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Rondo /ˈränˌdō/ a musical form with a recurring leading theme, often found in the final movement of a sonata or concerto.
It was meant to be an easy mission.
Granger knew the foothills of Lantis Mountain like the back of his hand. He was familiar with the names of the communities that were said to be under demon attack and understood how to deal with them.
This would be a quick mission.
And yet, here he was, standing on the ashes of what once was. The air was thick with the stench of burning, blood, and ruin. The night was incredibly calm; there wasn't a single breath to be heard, let alone a scream or howl.
He was too late.
However, before remorse clawed at his chest, Granger heard a weeping sound. It was muted, but Granger could hear it as clearly as the Monastery's bell. Granger hurried to the farthest part of the wreckage, where he saw a youngster coiled among the remains that were once his house, his back pressed against the wall as if attempting to shrink himself and hide from the horrors that were rapidly reaching him. His shaking small hands held a familiar black leather coat like a solid shield, half of his face buried in the fur collar.
The boy's shoulders rose as he inhaled. Only then did Granger grasp what the youngster was doing.
He inhaled into the fur as if attempting to smell his father's lingering scent.
He was looking for solace in that piece of clothing.
Granger approached the youngster cautiously, hoping not to scare him away. However, as he took his first step, he saw a demon emerge from the kid's back, its sword raised and ready to claim the child as its next victim.
"Granger!"
He couldn't care who yelled his name. Granger was far too busy raising his revolver, cocking the safety, and jumping forward in an attempt to save the youngster. He moved so quickly that everything around him vanished into a blur.
However, as he regained his concentration, the boy vanished.
And so do the ruins that surround him.
Granger blinked once, twice, and then realized he was in his own quarters. The window was wide open, illuminating the room with dazzling light and allowing warm wind to blow in, which felt too uncomfortable on Granger's sweat-soaked skin.
It took him two more heartbeats to realize his gun was pointed at nothing.
After another two heartbeats, I realized it was likely another nightmare.
The bard exhaled, attempting to keep his breaths brief. He relaxed his stance, and the strain settled on his shoulders and back. He then sat on the side of his filthy bed, dripping in sweat, and returned the gun to the bedside table where he had placed it the night before.
As Granger counted his hammering heart, which sounded more like a clap of wings than a heartbeat, his recollections from the night before slowly returned.
The mission was certainly successful. It took him less than two hours to end the demon invasion. He killed all the demons on sight. He did not allow any of them to escape.
It was only a nightmare.
A replay of the day when he lost everything when he was rescued and declared the sole survivor of the war between the Imperial Army and the Abyssal Demons. An image that had been haunting him in his sleep for nearly two decades came to him in many variations, but it always led him back to the image of his younger self embracing his father's coat.
The vision keeps returning to him, like a perpetual rondo.
Granger had come to expect the nightmare because it happened so frequently. He always went to bed ready to confront another nightmare. However, knowing about it did not alleviate the unpleasant experience. Even if Granger knew that the vision in front of him was nothing more than a nightmare, it would find another way to instill fear in his heart.
Granger realized he couldn't get away from it.
Though, he decided not to dwell on it. Granger forced himself to get up and wash the perspiration and tears off his face with running water. The cold water felt pleasant on his skin; it wiped away the residual terror in his head, revealing the memories of yesterday's mission.
The mission was successful. Although he arrived a bit late, he quickly got the situation under control, not allowing a single demon to escape their attacks. Most villagers survived with minimum damage, and there were no casualties.
Though a few villagers were getting injured rather badly.
His thoughts kept returning to the blond boy, who was holding a smaller kid in a protective grip with one hand and pointing a kitchen knife at the demon that crept up to him with the other. The child was shaking and afraid, but his eyes were filled with defiance. He was trembling, but he put on a strong face, and Granger couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he arrived late.
What would happen if no one came to his rescue at all?
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a clicking door. Granger hesitated, his heart skipping a beat, when he realized he was not expecting anyone. Nobody from the Demon Hunter faction knows where he lives, and the only person who knows was sent on a mission to the Forbidden Forest. Granger did not expect him to come home until at least a week from now.
The bard took the spare handgun from the lowest cabinet in his little kitchen and stalked towards the door, his finger resting on the trigger.
When Granger arrived at the front room, the door was barged open, and he raised his gun in defense.
The individual who came from behind the door lifted his brow in surprise when he saw Granger's handgun pointing at him. His blue eyes widened, and he raised his hands to drop his blade.
"Hey, hey, calm down; it's me!" He exclaimed, panic in his voice.
Granger did not know he was holding his breath until he recognized that the person who emerged from the door was none other than Alucard. The only person in the world who knows Granger’s living quarters is the one the Demon Hunter faction did not provide.
“You could have knocked,” Granger hissed, lowering his gun. “Why the fuck you’re here, Alu? You’re not supposed to be back until a week from now. And for fuck’s sake, stop trying to bust my door open.”
“It’s jammed. I told you it needs to be oiled up,” Alucard said. “And the mission was canceled. Captain Tigreal decided that Harith would be a more suitable escort for King Estes back to the Forest. So I was released from duty.”
Granger bit his tongue. He could have snarled at Alucard for not being careful with his property and chastised him for not sending a notification before his early arrival. Granger despised surprises, and Alucard is aware of this. And yet here he was, marching in unnoticed.
“ You come home early. I thought you were not supposed to be back until tomorrow,” Alucard added.
Ganger did not answer. He turned his back, returned to the kitchen, placed the gun back in its place, and grabbed the jar where he put his tea, ignoring the coming footsteps behind him.
“Granger…”
“Let it go, Alucard,” he cut, short and sharp, not giving Alucard any room to protest.
Thankfully, Alucard chose not to be stubborn today. He held his words, and Granger thought that it would be the end of their conversation. That Granger's tendency to avoid people finally gets the best of Alucard. After always approaching Granger head-on, he decided to back off this time, finally giving up to…
His thoughts were interrupted as Granger felt a pair of strong arms wrapping around him, followed by a press of a forehead to Granger’s exposed shoulder. Alucard’s breath was warm on Granger’s sweat-slicked skin, and even though it was midday in the middle of summer and the heat was a degree hotter than Ganger tolerated, the bard did not feel bothered at all.
On the contrary, he felt comfortable in Alucard’s arms.
“I’m here, beloved,” Alucard said. His voice was not louder than a whisper, but it reverberated on Granger’s spine, sending a surge of ease to his tangled thoughts.
Granger relents.
He wanted to tell Alucard anything. But, despite his mind being preoccupied with so many things at once, words continued to elude him. Granger, for the love of it, couldn't say anything. But how could he, when everything that was going on, everything he wanted to tell Alucard, had already happened? Alucard had heard half of it, and the parts Granger did not say, he had witnessed firsthand; he was jolted awake when Granger awoke abruptly from his slumber, pointing his rifle at the wall. He had watched Granger wake up in the middle of the night with tears he had no idea he had shed, and he had soothed him back to sleep whenever he awoke from the same old nightmare.
Alucard had been present most of the time. So, what use are words now? How did he respond to Alucard? How else can he tell Alucard? He could not, for the life of him, find the words to explain his fear and terror without sounding pathetic, like a broken record of a rondo that everyone despised.
And so he did not speak any words, simply reaching for Alucard’s fingers and entwined them with his own. Though, to his relief, Alucard did not press him for words like he usually would. The blond simply kissed the side of his cheeks and rubbed his nose on Granger’s sweat-soaked hair. His embrace was firmer but still soft. He did not give sweet nothings as he usually does. Instead, he breathes softly, as if instructing Granger to do the same.
Granger was only aware of his short breaths until he heard Alucard's smooth breath. It wasn't until he noticed the regular beats of Alucard's heart on his back that he understood his own heart was still beating like demons were just chasing him.
He clasped Alucard's palm tighter while regulating his breath, listening to how their breaths and heartbeats gradually blended in the same harmony.
When Granger opened his eyes, he saw that a blur momentarily halted them, and his eyelids were damp, no doubt from tears.
He gripped Alucard’s fingers even tighter now, and such a simple gesture reminded him of the boy he rescued yesterday.
“I’m here, beloved,” Alucard whispered again in a calm but assuring tone as if trying to keep Granger with him. It is as if he knows that if he did not hold Granger now, with his arms and words, Granger would be lost in the quicksand, which is his own thoughts. “Don’t worry.”
I’m here. You’re safe. Don’t worry.
Those words were spoken in a gentle hush, in the order Granger had heard hundreds of times before, yet they did not feel monotonous. They did not lose their effectiveness or feel like the words lost their meanings.
They feel as soothing as the first time he heard it.
Perhaps monotony was not necessarily the outcome of repeats. It could, on occasion, lead to reassurance instead.
So Granger tried.
“A boy nearly lost his life.” Granger finally found the courage to speak, his mind in the right order to find the words to say. “He’s blond. Like you. And he was cornered, like I did.”
Granger could feel Alucard’s fingers tightening on his. “So it triggered the nightmare?”
“Hmm,” Granger hummed in agreement. “Had I come a moment later, he would have lost his life. He and his brother both. Had I not…”
“But you did,” Alucard cut his words; his other hand rubbed circles on Granger’s skin, soothing him. “You saved him. I’ve heard about your mission. No casualties. You saved him. He and his brother could live another day because of you.”
Granger shrugged Alucard’s hands, letting go of his embrace to see his face. A part of him secretly mourned the loss of the warmth, but he also needed to see Alucard. He wanted to see the man’s face, the blue of his eyes filled with tenderness, the smile so gentle that it somehow took the edge of the midsummer sun.
The face that felt just as much of a home as his assuring embrace.
“I thought it would get easier the more time we do this,” he said. “Alucard, how come we’ve done this so many times over the years, and yet we’re not growing numb to the horror?”
How it could still affect us was implied. But Granger was already losing the burst of inspiration that Alucard had somehow drawn out of him with his persistence. He exhaled, his words once again stuck in his throat.
Alucard tilted Granger’s chin with one finger so their eyes could meet again. “I think maybe it’s just proved that despite every horror you witnessed, you did not lose your heart,” he said, placing his free hand on Granger’s chest above his heart. “And beloved, while I know it must be heavy to endure, please know I’m here to ease your pain. Maybe not immediately; maybe it would take some time, but I will always come to you, and if I can't, you can always seek for me, and I will always welcome you,” Alucard paused again to bring Granger’s hand to his lips. “I promise I’ll do anything, anything to help you soothe the pain.”
It was not the first time Granger heard those words, too. Alucard had said it repeatedly throughout their three-and-a-half-year relationship. Again, his words retained their significance and never felt empty. Even though it was said in the same gentle voice, Granger did not grow weary about it.
If anything, those words made him feel even more safe.
He interlaced their fingers once more before pulling Alucard into a kiss. He still felt broken and helpless, and he knew that at night, the nightmare would wait in the darkness, ready to ambush him even when he was on his guard. Perhaps the horror would never go away; he would be cursed for the rest of his life for being jolted up by such a terrible horror.
But he would persevere, just as before. He'd brave it night after night, knowing he wouldn't be alone.
Alucard would be there, whispering his favorite Rondo.