Jonathan Harker (Bram Stoker's original novel) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hotpaprika) wrote2022-05-16 08:07 pm
hotpaprika) wrote2022-05-16 08:07 pmPSL/Call me Out Post
God save this sweet little guy
hotpaprika) wrote2022-05-16 08:07 pm
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It's been about six months since Alfred had been turned. At first it had been terrifying, it had been painful, and the idea of returning to the castle had been...alarming, to say the least, even as wild as he had felt. But the Krolocks had welcomed him with open arms, had gleefully taken him into their fold, taught him how to survive, what to do, how to cope with the steady awakening of powers.
It's been...nice, to feel like he belongs somewhere. And he has wanted to find ways to repay them. When they mentioned needing to go away for a while, to attend to some affairs elsewhere in the world, he had offered to stay with Koukol at the castle, to work on cleaning up a bit. Herbert had taken some convincing, but ultimately, Alfred being a fledgling made his travel a concern.
Now, standing at the door, brows knit together, he is questioning whether that was a good idea at all.
He fusses with his own bowtie, regarding the stranger for a long moment with great uncertainty. What should he do? He can't just leave this man out in the storm, after all. But what if -
The wind whistles, blowing sleet into his face, making his decision.
"Ja - of - of course," he stammers, German accent thick and tilting his soft, gentle voice at the edges. "Please, it's - it's terrible out there."
Keeping his smile tight-lipped, for better or for worse, he steps aside to allow the stranger in.
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"Oh, thank you dearly sir. I promise I won't be a burden to you," He steps in, clutching his suitcase as he takes in the place, any questions about the man completely overtaken by the beauty and history.
"My Lord, what a magnificent castle you have here!" he looks almost like a kid in a candy store looking around. "Might I ask who the owner of the castle is?"
He seemed to have completely forgotten about the fact that he's soaking wet, even as he pulls out an (also damp) handkerchief to turn away and sneeze into with a brief "pardon".
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Well, this - this man seems nice, at least. Very pleasant, very polite. Once the door is shut, he turns to get a closer look at him without the bluster of the weather impeding him. The poor thing is drenched, freezing, lucky to not have been attacked by the wolves in the forest outside.
Not...so very far removed from how he was, six months ago. But also much less afraid.
"A-ah - w-well, this is - Castle Von Krolock. The Count, and his son. I am watching it for them while they are...away, on some personal affairs." Frowning at the display with the wet handkerchief, he pulls one from his own pocket, clean and eggshell white with little embroidered roses on it. He holds it out with a little smile.
"I am...Alfred. Alfred Schreiber. How did you - even get here?"
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Maybe he was being presumptuous thinking that he had a wife, but he was an attractive gentleman, it seemed reasonable that he would have caught the eye of someone nice. Regardless he seems reluctant to actually use it.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Alfred. I'm Jonathan Harker. It's quite a long story, but I'm here on a business trip. My carriage was late and I was worried that my client ran into some trouble and set out," He chuckles lightly, looking behind him "I suppose now I know why it was late,"
He suddenly picks up on the name of this place, and brightens.
"Oh, I've read about Castle Von Krolock in my studies! What luck that I ran into such a place," Whatever Jonathan heard about, clearly its negative reputation hasn't reached him yet.
"But I digress. Is there perhaps a place to dry off? I'm afraid I'll ruin such a magnificent castle if I don't dry off my clothes,"
He looks at himself, frowning. Drying is definitely an understatement, his shoes and pants were absolutely caked in mud from the storm. It was going to be an absolute pain to get this out.
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Alfred reddens a little bit - it's still a bit of a sore topic, the perception of his hobbies and interests as feminine. This stranger doesn't really know him, of course, and so that first impression makes him anxious, a noticeable wince in his expression and set in his jaw.
Still, introductions are made, and the conversation moves on.
"The pleasure is mine, Mister Harker," he murmurs with a little bow of the head. "You are...lucky, to have found yourself here. These woods are dangerous enough at night, even without the storm-" He stops short at the reaction Jonathan has to learning where he is. That...is unexpected.
"I - of course, yes. Right this way, you can use one of the guest rooms." Without thinking about it, he starts off down the hallway...in the dark. He gets about ten feet down a pitch-black hall before he Realizes with a little yelp, a nervous lap, a quick fumbling for a candlestick.
"Ah - s-sorry, I - I am used to the low light."
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Granted, if Mina were here he probably wouldn't be in this situation to begin with.
"Yes, I figured it would be a risk walking in the night like this, but I was worried for my client, and wanted to see if he ran into any trouble," he frowns, thoughtful "I certainly hope he is alright. I was looking forward to meeting him,"
Plus it would make his whole trip here a moot point, but he was more worried about the man's safety. Pointless trips didn't mean half as much in his eyes.
When Alfred walks down a darkened hallway, Jonathan stops. He isn't suspicious or worried, but he didn't trust his own abilities to navigate in the dark like this. He's just about to speak up when Alfred notices his error. He laughs in amusement and goes to catch up with him in the light.
"It's all alright, my friend. You didn't expect to have guests over today, so I can't blame you for falling into habits," A part of him wonders if perhaps the owners of the house were strict on uses of candles, but thought it would be rude to ask.
As they walk through the hallway, Jonathan is suddenly hit with how exhausted he's been from this whole ordeal. He doesn't have the faintest idea of how long he's been out there, but the adrenaline keeping him going was starting to fade and he was starting to feel weary and tired and hungry. He didn't want to be rude and impose, so he decides to keep these feelings to himself now. But even in the candlelight it was starting to show on his face, and in how he struggles a little to keep up with Alfred's pace.
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The conversation is light, pleasant - hiding the fact that inside, Alfred is panicking a little bit. What has he DONE, exactly? He's let a stranger into a home that isn't even his, he risks exposing vampirism to a human, and - oh, what if he has to -
No, no, he would never. He COULD never.
Casting the occasional glance back at Jonathan, he slows his pace subtly, sympathetic to how he must be feeling. It's not exactly a short walk, up to the castle gate. Let alone in this weather.
"The guest room has a bath, if you like, and there is a robe in there - I'll get a fire burning in the hearth while you get out of your wet things." After a bit more walking, he approaches a door, pushing it open to reveal a room that can really only be described as Ominous. He cringes a little.
"...The...owners of the house are a bit...ah...intense...with their...decoration."
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He perks up noticably at the mention of a bath. Gosh, after being trapped out in the cold weather all night, a bath sounded wonderful right about now.
Oh, thank you! I fear that water had gotten into my suitcase, so the robe would be lovely, as well as a warm bath,"
He steps into the room, and there is a vague feeling of uncertainty that comes over him. The ominous nature of the place is not lost in him, but he quickly shrugs it off as he places his suitcase on a nearby chair. It was still shelter with a gracious host, and it felt rude to complain about the aesthetics.
"I'm sure I can make myself home here. Your hospitality is more than enough," He smiles genuinely at Alfred, before faltering a little at getting some hunger pangs "I think I'll draw myself a bath now, but I was curious if we could perhaps share a meal, if it's not too late,"
He frowns a little looking outside. The storm was intense outside so it was hard to gauge the time of day, but he was almost positive it was well past dinnertime. Maybe it was rude to ask for food so late, but he hadn't eaten since lunch and the idea of waiting until morning to eat felt dreadful.
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But now isn't the time to dwell. He bustles over to the hearth, dropping to his knees to get right to building up a fire in the hearth for light and warmth. He's certainly no pampered noble, from the practiced, work-worn way he handles the firewood, getting soot from the previous fire all over his hands.
At the question, he blinks, looking up to the other man with concern. Oh, of course he's hungry. So is Alfred, but...ah. Hm.
"I have - already eaten, but I would be happy to make you something," he finally offers, tone making it clear it's no imposition. "I'll join you at the table for some - some wine, though. We don't get many visitors up here, and...conversation sounds nice."
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"That would be lovely. You don't have to get me much; just some simple bread and cheese would be more than enough for right now,"
He lingers a tiny bit too long watching Alfred before setting off for his bath. The bath itself was, frankly, extremely nice. It was a much nicer bathtub than anything he's ever used before, and the warm water immediately washed away his aches and chills from the night he just had. If this was how nobles lived, Jonathan absolutely envied them to be treated to such nice baths like this.
It was hard for him to get out but the prospect of food and chatting with the nice man that took him in eventually won him over as he eventually gets out. He felt sleepy but overall refreshed, with a flushed tint on his cheeks. Jonathan quickly slips on his robe before setting out to the bedroom again, looking for Alfred.
"Thank you so much for allowing me to use the bath, Mr. Schreiber. I don't think I've ever had a bath quite like that,"