First of all, saving Sarah was an absolute shitshow. They hadn't made it far from the castle before she turned on him, betrayed him - and then, minutes afterward, she bailed while he was unconscious. Alfred is sure, of course, that he knows where she has gone...and it's where he's going too, trudging weakly through the snow, hunger gnawing at his gut and the sunrise threatening the horizon.
It's with a cringe that he comes to the door the castle he had only just fleed...hesitating for a minute, two minutes, three before his knees threatening to give out spurs him on.
He knocks on the door to Castle Krolock, whimpering, barely able to close his mouth around his new fangs.
"...Oh, I hope they don't leave me out here...please, someone hear me...."
It had been sad to see Alfred go. What a lovely boy. What a lovely little rear end. Father has Sarah and Hebert feels jealous and lonely. He'd go turn one of the village boys if they weren't so homely. Or so full of garlic.
Alfred isn't sure if he is more relieved that it's Herbert or more afraid that it's him - mostly he's just glad when that door creaks open. He stumbles through it the moment he is invited, collapsing to the ground almost immediately. He's half-frozen, pale, and has plainly been crying for hours -
And more notably, he clutches at his abdomen as soon as he hits the ground, lips peeling back in a little wail to reveal the change that had taken place.
Blearily, he looks up at Herbert, and...well, there's nothing for it, is there?
"Help." His voice is quivering, barely above a whisper. "Please?"
Oh dear, oh the poor boy. The first few hours is so hard. It must have been Sarah, then. And left him alone in the snow, how cruel. Herbert sits on the floor with Alfred and pulls the poor boy into his lap, biting his own wrist and offering it up. "Here. Take this. It will help with the transformation."
There's almost no resistance as he's pulled into Herbert's lap, his body cold and like a ragdoll - and there's only a moment of anxiety before another roar in his gut drives him to lap up the blood offered, whining high-pitched in the back of his throat as he drinks.
Not only had Sarah left him there, the only blood he had actually tasted was his own.
Dimly, he realizes this is the first feeding of any kind that he's had...and it's being given willingly, kindly, giving him strength.
He calms, just a little bit.
There's...sympathy there, in Herbert's voice, isn't there?
His other hand strokes Alfred's hair while the poor boy drinks his fill. "I'll have to have a talk with Father about his new bride. So unkind to leave you out there like that! Though I suppose she is young, yet. Oh but you must let me take care of you, now that you're one of us."
The attention feels...nice, he thinks. Now that he's not getting it against his will, that is.
Of course, had it really been against his will even then?
Not thoughts to grapple with now. He stops drinking when the pain ebbs away, pulling back and wiping his mouth with the back of his shaking hand. His fingertips...hurt, the nails feeling raw and achy. Growing, maybe? Oh, if only he had studied harder!
Now he's just...staring up at Herbert, trembling both with the cold and with the lingering fear.
"It's...almost sunrise, if I...if I hadn't made it here...." The idea of Sarah being the Count's 'bride' stings, but...well, she clearly had rejected him, hadn't she?
"I have so much to teach you, after all." Herbert wipes away the blood from the corners of Alfred's mouth and sucks it off his thumb. "Father will be busy teaching Sarah. You won't mind having me as a teacher will you, Alfred? I'll show you everything I know."
He can't help but whimper a little bit under Herbert's touch - there's still the part of him, after all, that half expects a soft touch to turn into something more sinister. Vampires are monsters, aren't they?
Oh. Oh no.
Oh, then Alfred is a monster now too.
Instinctually, he curls up into a little ball in Herbert's lap, new tears welling up in his eyes.
"...I can't do it on my own. I can't do anything on my own! The Professor said so. I need...yes, I need your help. I need you."
The Professor sounds awful. Even if his books are an amusement amongst he and his father. Herbert would eat him, but he'd probably be very dry.
And then Alfred is crying in his lap and Herbert pulls him close, rubbing his back. "Fooey to the Professor, I say. You're a wonderful young man. You just need a little guidance, that's all."
"Oh I did, my darling. And I am. I fell for you the moment I saw you, and those delicate lashes of yours. I do love you, Alfred. Perhaps, some day, you'll love me too."
Okay, that's a lot, that's a lot very fast, but...well, the hug feels nice....
"...I...I'm a...man, though?"
Alfred had been educated in many things by the Professor over his time with him. Sexuality was...not one of those things, and he had grown up in a fairly sheltered home.
It's clear from his confused expression that some of his resistance from before may stem less from disgust and more from...simply not knowing one's options.
"Oh you darling boy." He doesn't mean to laugh, but Alfred is just so sweet. This poor, sheltered little lamb.
Herbert strokes his cheek with the backs of his fingers and nods, quite seriously. "I have always favoured men over women. It's just the way that I am."
He shudders a little at that stroke - but maybe not...in a bad way, exactly?
"You can...do that? I mean, that's - that's normal? Is it a vampire thing, or...?"
Well, he's confused and probably questioning his sexuality but at least he's stopped crying now, and he seems at least strong enough to move himself around a little.
"No, I was like this before I was a vampire. I've always liked men more than women." He sits back a little, to let Alfred stand and explore, if he'd like.
The frost and snow on his clothes has melted by now, leaving them wet - but he needs to stretch, and so he does stand, visibly shaking as he does so. His mind is elsewhere, though, his expression shifting around before settling on...a very telling, very sad look of a hope he's afraid to feel.
He turns back towards Herbert, hugging himself around the elbows, standing there knock-kneed as he asks in just the tiniest voice:
A sigh of relief escapes Alfred that he didn't realize he was holding as he gets his answer - and when he is kissed, this time he doesn't flinch.
In fact, he smiles, just a little tiny bit.
"...I think you're the first person to ever...say that to me? That there's nothing wrong. With me. Or how I am. I'm not...used to it? And with how we met, I'm - I - uh-"
He goes tongue-tied again, tripping over the fangs he realizes he has no idea how to retract.
Herbert will help him with his fangs. And everything else. He pushes Alfred's wet hair back from his face and kisses his forehead firmly. "I came on too strong, didn't I? I apologize. I was just so taken with you, I couldn't resist. I needed you, that moment. But now, well. We have all the time in the world don't we?"
That's...so polite and genteel, honestly, that Alfred is almost taken aback. This is...not how he had been told vampires are meant to be. Maybe the Professor was...wrong?
"...I'm sorry, too," he fumbles, lisping a little bit. "About the...book. That I shoved in your mouth. Really hard."
That...probably hurt, now that he has fangs himself and can reflect on it.
"I...guess we do. I...I don't really know...where to start. With all of this."
"I forgive you for the book that you shoved in my mouth really hard. I got excited." Oh, his little lisp is adorable. "The fangs will take some getting used to. And you'll crave blood. All the time. But it's quite difficult to separate one of the villagers from the rest of the pack long enough to get them up here, so we don't get fresh blood very often."
"Plenty of animals in the woods. It isn't the most ideal, but we get by." He sighs, very put upon, but then oh -- Alfred winces and Herbert tuts, reaching out to stroke his cheek.
"Poor thing. Once you've had them for a little while, you won't even notice them. Even when they're out."
"Oh - like hunting? That's... that's not so bad, I...I guess."
The thought actually makes Alfred cringe though - he can barely stomach killing a spider, let alone anything else.
"They're just so long," the neophyte whimpers, bringing his own hands up to examine the fangs by touch - until the words click, and he makes a noise of realization.
"Wait - out? You can...you can bring them in, right? Yours didn't seem so long when I first saw you."
Knock Knock
First of all, saving Sarah was an absolute shitshow. They hadn't made it far from the castle before she turned on him, betrayed him - and then, minutes afterward, she bailed while he was unconscious. Alfred is sure, of course, that he knows where she has gone...and it's where he's going too, trudging weakly through the snow, hunger gnawing at his gut and the sunrise threatening the horizon.
It's with a cringe that he comes to the door the castle he had only just fleed...hesitating for a minute, two minutes, three before his knees threatening to give out spurs him on.
He knocks on the door to Castle Krolock, whimpering, barely able to close his mouth around his new fangs.
"...Oh, I hope they don't leave me out here...please, someone hear me...."
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But then there's a knock at the door and to his utter delight, there stands Alfred. "Mon chéri! You've come back to me? Oh come in, quick, out of the cold."
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And more notably, he clutches at his abdomen as soon as he hits the ground, lips peeling back in a little wail to reveal the change that had taken place.
Blearily, he looks up at Herbert, and...well, there's nothing for it, is there?
"Help." His voice is quivering, barely above a whisper. "Please?"
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Not only had Sarah left him there, the only blood he had actually tasted was his own.
Dimly, he realizes this is the first feeding of any kind that he's had...and it's being given willingly, kindly, giving him strength.
He calms, just a little bit.
There's...sympathy there, in Herbert's voice, isn't there?
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Of course, had it really been against his will even then?
Not thoughts to grapple with now. He stops drinking when the pain ebbs away, pulling back and wiping his mouth with the back of his shaking hand. His fingertips...hurt, the nails feeling raw and achy. Growing, maybe? Oh, if only he had studied harder!
Now he's just...staring up at Herbert, trembling both with the cold and with the lingering fear.
"It's...almost sunrise, if I...if I hadn't made it here...." The idea of Sarah being the Count's 'bride' stings, but...well, she clearly had rejected him, hadn't she?
"You would...you really want to...to help me?"
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Oh. Oh no.
Oh, then Alfred is a monster now too.
Instinctually, he curls up into a little ball in Herbert's lap, new tears welling up in his eyes.
"...I can't do it on my own. I can't do anything on my own! The Professor said so. I need...yes, I need your help. I need you."
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And then Alfred is crying in his lap and Herbert pulls him close, rubbing his back. "Fooey to the Professor, I say. You're a wonderful young man. You just need a little guidance, that's all."
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"...You...you really think I'm...."
Hesitation again. He fumbles over his own words.
"I - the - the things you said before, and now this, and I - you really think - I mean, that's to say, did you really mean-"
Oh, hopeless.
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Okay, that's a lot, that's a lot very fast, but...well, the hug feels nice....
"...I...I'm a...man, though?"
Alfred had been educated in many things by the Professor over his time with him. Sexuality was...not one of those things, and he had grown up in a fairly sheltered home.
It's clear from his confused expression that some of his resistance from before may stem less from disgust and more from...simply not knowing one's options.
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Herbert strokes his cheek with the backs of his fingers and nods, quite seriously. "I have always favoured men over women. It's just the way that I am."
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"You can...do that? I mean, that's - that's normal? Is it a vampire thing, or...?"
Well, he's confused and probably questioning his sexuality but at least he's stopped crying now, and he seems at least strong enough to move himself around a little.
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The frost and snow on his clothes has melted by now, leaving them wet - but he needs to stretch, and so he does stand, visibly shaking as he does so. His mind is elsewhere, though, his expression shifting around before settling on...a very telling, very sad look of a hope he's afraid to feel.
He turns back towards Herbert, hugging himself around the elbows, standing there knock-kneed as he asks in just the tiniest voice:
"...So there's nothing...wrong...with me?"
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Wrong with you, honestly," he mutters to himself, stroking Alfred's hair and rubbing his back soothingly.
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In fact, he smiles, just a little tiny bit.
"...I think you're the first person to ever...say that to me? That there's nothing wrong. With me. Or how I am. I'm not...used to it? And with how we met, I'm - I - uh-"
He goes tongue-tied again, tripping over the fangs he realizes he has no idea how to retract.
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"...I'm sorry, too," he fumbles, lisping a little bit. "About the...book. That I shoved in your mouth. Really hard."
That...probably hurt, now that he has fangs himself and can reflect on it.
"I...guess we do. I...I don't really know...where to start. With all of this."
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Setting his awkwardness aside for the moment, he listens to the explanation, nodding along with his brow furrowed in attempted focus.
"But...what do yo- what do we do most of the time, then? If - ow!"
A shiver makes his teeth chatter, and then he winces; biting your tongue is bad enough with human teeth.
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"Poor thing. Once you've had them for a little while, you won't even notice them. Even when they're out."
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The thought actually makes Alfred cringe though - he can barely stomach killing a spider, let alone anything else.
"They're just so long," the neophyte whimpers, bringing his own hands up to examine the fangs by touch - until the words click, and he makes a noise of realization.
"Wait - out? You can...you can bring them in, right? Yours didn't seem so long when I first saw you."
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