Dec 18, 2022
Indulgent Father
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Indulgent Father
“I’m so sorry, my lady,” said the maid. “Please forgive him.”
Integra almost didn’t hear her, distracted by the distressed look on the boy’s face. He was looking past her, standing on his toes, and made a small whimper of protest when the nursemaid caught him deftly by the arm. “What is wrong,” Integra asked.
The young woman looked uncertain, as though the answer was inconvenient or uncomfortable, but she answered, “He’s looking for his mother and father, Lady Integra. Ever since they left.”
“Ah.” Integra nodded in understanding. Leonel and his wife had been gone these past three nights on a visit to her parents in Targoviște. Integra remembered their goodbyes in the forecourt: her son embracing his father, her daughter-in-law talking urgently with the nursemaid about some last-minute instructions the woman had no doubt heard at least thrice before. Finally, the little chit had knelt to embrace her children, smothering them in kisses and extracting promises of good behavior from Leona, the eldest. Still, in spite of this great show, it seemed Trevor and his sister, Marguerite, were too young to comprehend that their parents were leaving. Leona was five and had solemnly understood when the matter was explained to her. Her father had even taken it upon himself to explain to her how a calendar worked and how to count down the days until their return. And there would be letters, of course, detailing their arrival, their activities, and most importantly if there were any unforeseen delays to their return home. The younger two were less understanding. Marguerite burst into tears when she saw her foster mother was leaving them, and Trevor followed suit until the pair were unconsolable. It was a grating noise, and Integra had fought to keep a straight face so as not to out herself as a heartless monster.
It wasn’t that she hated children, despite what everyone in the Argeș region gossiped, it was just Integra had little interest in children and even less in the making of children. Had she wished it, she could have chosen a life without the responsibilities of motherhood. Like her daughter-in-law, she too had been born in Targoviște to one of the great families. She enjoyed a substantial inheritance from her late father, which her uncle had attempted to usurp but had failed on account of the influential Belmonts supporting her rights as heiress. However, she herself had chosen to be this family’s matriarch and since her lord husband had been the last of his line, she had felt it her responsibility to continue it for his sake in spite of her…apathy.
“Come along, Trevor,” the nursemaid said, gently tugging the child’s arm. “Let’s go back now.”
The child, still looking for his parents, reluctantly began to follow.
“Wait.”
The maid stopped, casting a nervous look back at her. “Yes, ma’am?”
Wincing as her joints creaked and popped, Integra made herself kneel and hold out her arms. “Here, Trevor. Come to Grandmother.”
Her voice, even by her own reckoning, sounded awkward and impartial, so she did not blame her grandson when the boy shrank away, pressing himself into the maid’s skirt until it practically swallowed him.
“Oh, dear.” The maid knelt and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Go on, love. ’Tis only your grandmama and she wants to see you.”
The reminder, or introduction as it were, seemed to offer little comfort. After some coaxing, the maid finally managed to extricate him from her skirts and put him forward. Integra made herself smile, although crouching like this for so long was painful. She hated growing old, hated admitting she was old. The little one crept forward in small steps, and when he was within reach, Integra slowly, and somewhat awkwardly, closed her arms around him. He was warm, as all small children were. She half-expected him to burst into tears, but he remained quiet and eventually he slid his small arms around her neck.
Integra smiled in satisfaction. “Now then,” she said as she managed to stand without injuring herself or the child. “Let’s say you and I go for a walk in the garden.”
“Can you remember when you brought me to the Retezat Mountains, Seras?”
“I can.”
“Can you remember how we chased the red and roe deer in our wolf forms and when we rolled in the rhododendrons and heather?”
“I can.”
“And how we climbed Vârful Peleaga and hunted with the owls at night.” Her brother tightened his arm around her shoulders. “I’m going to take you back there someday. We’ll run among the spruce and fir trees again, and hunt with the owls and wolves. We’ll live in the caverns along the rivers or we can build a home. And nothing will ever hurt us again.”
“Let’s see what’s at the very bottom of your despair.”
The Nightmare
Chin up, little Belmont, or no one will ever take you seriously.
Place your bets. Who’s getting annihilated?
https://archiveofourown.org/works/33339904/chapters/82798084
https://www.deviantart.com/themysticvixen/art/Blood-Feud-901637816
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 11/11 Fandom: 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series, Hellsing Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Lisa (Castlevania), Dracula (Castlevania), Seras Victoria Additional Tags: Family, Humor, Blood and Violence, Crude, Crossover Summary:
Seras doesn't know what to make of Lisa. Hellsing AU. Netflix Castlevania.