“Will you please have a seat?” For the third time, Alucard had caught you leading stray horses back into their stables. You were eight months pregnant and just as much of a busybody as you were when the four of you — that is, Trevor, himself, you, and Sypha — were out fighting night creatures and making plans to dismember Dracula’s court.

Those were the days. He thought back on them a lot, especially after Trevor and Sypha had left for adventure so many months ago and you had kept him company back at the castle. He found, in that time, that you kept him together. Kept him whole, kept him from feeling like he was rotting from the inside out. Alucard had found that things were more bearable with you around, as mortal and finite as your life was, as upset as it made him sometimes. As time passed, the village he’d dreamt of was built on the grounds of his castle and the grounds of the Belmont Hold right before his eyes, with you right there beside him to witness it. He did what he thought was impossible: he fell in love, and even better, he was married within the next few months.

Present day, he was now tasked with making sure you didn’t strain or work yourself, and the baby, to death. Sypha was good at keeping you still, not to mentioned experienced, as she was nine months pregnant herself, but Alucard would always find you in places that weren’t even remotely related to relaxation.

“The horses will live without being fed apples every five minutes, my love,” he watched you happily pet the snout of a strong black steed. “Honestly, where is Sypha when I need her? To think I can’t keep watch over my own wife.”