Chapter Text
Eggsy watched the grey sky with more than a little apprehension from the back seat of the cab. He knew London weather, he knew Welsh weather, he knew Scottish and Irish weather, and most recently he had grown accustomed to anticipating Austrian weather. What he had never managed to gauge properly was the Romanian sky. By England’s reckoning, a sky like that was just another lovely day. By Austrian reckoning, they should be half buried in snow by now. Romanian skies were fickle, he never knew when they’d decide to let the people have a day off or drown them in slush. His thoughts were interrupted as Merlin, his mentor and (at the moment) bane of his existence, drawled out drowsily “How long before we make it to the castle?” from the front seat.
The cab driver mumbled unintelligibly, or at least it was all Greek to Eggsy, but apparently Merlin was as knowledgeable in Unintelligible-ese as he was in a dozen other languages. “Well, step on it then.” He responded, sounding surly as only Merlin could. The driver side-eyed Merlin for a moment, and Eggsy wondered for a moment if antagonizing their driver while they were on a deserted road in the middle of nowhere was a good idea. “The blizzard will hit soon, and we will be stranded in the cab. No, I will take you to the nearest inn, in the village just outside the castle. We will continue to our destination after it has abated.” They were apparently having a competition on who could be surlier, if their grunted arguments and general glaring were an indication.
They were in the middle of their debate when the snow hit like a curtain being dropped straight from the sky. Finally, Merlin conceded the cab driver’s point and nodded in surrender. He still grumbled under his breath of course, but he was impatient and cold. He had reason to be upset at the setback.
“It’s alright, Merlin. We’re so close now. You’ll have plenty of time to explore the castle when we get there. And think about it, tomorrow is Christmas Eve. It’ll be like a present.” Eggsy said, trying to placate his mentor.
“I’ve waited so long, Eggsy…I suppose another night or two will be fine.” Merlin murmured back, making Eggsy smile. Merlin was brusque by nature, but he was hardly unreasonable.
Eggsy could still recall when he had first met Merlin. The man had been on the hunt for more than 10 years at that point, all on his lonesome. They had met in Germany when Eggsy was helping out a friend as a teaching aid in Anthropology. He had been to one or two of ‘Crazy Prof Merlin’s lectures on the historical documentation of vampirism through the ages, focusing on Eastern Europe. He had been there when they had let Merlin go, just a year or two away from tenure, with nothing but a box of his belongings and bruised pride. He had been there when Merlin accidentally dropped that box on the pavement and all the students had just walked around him, or stopped and stared. He helped Merlin collect his strewn belongings and invited himself to dinner and drinks with the man, and the rest was history.
They had spent the rest of the night discussing Merlin’s research and with his notes so conveniently located in that box, Merlin had pulled out all his evidence and convinced Eggsy of the historical existence of vampires. “Way I sees it, Merlin, you have no excuse to stay cooped in an office as is. You’ve convinced me, you have the money to travel and now you have more than enough time. Let’s find that vampire of yours.” It had been a few years since then, and they had thus narrowed down the hunt to Transylvania, to an unnamed castle in the heart of the countryside which was reputed to have been retained by Vlad the Impaler, or perhaps even be his final prison when the Hungarian forces had captured him. Merlin had always been adamant on his theory of Vlad III being the first vampire, though there was never any solid evidence on the matter, as well as his theory on there being another vampire, nearly as old, by the name of Krolock. In that theory, at least, he had some documentation of the creature all throughout Europe.
So here they were, chasing Merlin’s theory in remote Transylvania, the birthplace of the legend and presumably the resting place of the last vampire. Eggsy could feel the tingle of anticipation on his skin; soon they fruits of Merlin’s labor would show and they would know whether he had been chasing the truth or a myth for over a decade. If they didn’t die first of frostbite, of course, as it seemed the cab’s heater had decided to heave it’s last tepid breath and expire. The haggard look Merlin shot their cab driver seemed to amuse the burly man, who just huffed out a chuckle. “It’s alright, we have arrived just in time.” And indeed they were now entering what looked like a village, though the sleet was coming down quite heavily now. They were drawing near to a run-down house and for a moment, Eggsy hoped he was wrong, that this wasn’t their destination…alas, the cab driver pulled up to the front door and hopped out of the car to get their luggage.
“…Well, it looks…very rustic.” Eggsy’s feeble attempt was met with a wet snort from Merlin.
“It’s dilapidated and ancient, Eggsy. I have half a mind to have it inspected. It doesn’t even look structurally sound, let alone inhabitable. If we survive the night without getting frostbite and pneumonia, the tetanus will surely take us.”
“Don’t touch anything rusty, then.”
“I can see the rust in the air from here, and there is a blizzard between me and the building. Rats would flee this house on fear of death. I have half a mind to attempt constructing an igloo or a snow hut and braving the storm, if I didn’t think I’d end up housing every rodent refugee escaping this inn.”
Despite the grumbling, Eggsy could only grin at Merlin’s words. A silent and content Merlin was a sign of the apocalypse, and having him grousing about everything showed that all was right in the world. “See you inside, Merlin.” he sighed good-naturedly, receiving a put-upon grunt in response, before getting out and grabbing the last bag from the trunk, Merlin not too far behind. He was almost glad that the heater had died when it had, giving him time to adjust to the chilling cold before he stepped out into the biting wind. The cold was so bone deep, that the warmth of the inn when the door opened nearly made him collapse.
The inn looked much roomier and clean on the inside (Merlin merely given a nonchalant, sweeping gaze over the place at this discovery, though his brows had gone from Bert to Ernie instantly). The ‘lobby’ of the inn was essentially a living room with a desk directly in front of the door, a staircase on one side of the room and on the far end of which was a fireplace with soft and worn looking couches surrounding. It looked so inviting and warm, that Eggsy found himself moving away from Merlin (who was discussing their accommodation with the innkeeper as well as tomorrow’s transportation plans with the cab driver) and towards the hearth like a metaphorical moth to the literal flame.
He was close enough to feel the need to take off his thick winter coat and scarf when he noticed that someone was already enjoying the heat; a petite blonde girl (woman?) was sitting, tucked between pillows, on the largest couch with a thick book in her hands. As he approached, she startled out of her reading and looked up at him in surprise. He couldn’t really blame her. How many tourists showed up in this area of Romania in the dead of winter?
“Mind if I have a seat?”
“Oh, of course, please, sit. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise we had guests.”
Her accent was lilting in a thin Romanian accent, unlike the brogue of their cab driver and everyone else they had met in the countryside so far. Eggsy always found the accent strangely charming, when he could make heads or tails of what was being said, of course.
“Just me and my friend Merlin, Hardly worth ignoring a good book for. I’m Eggsy, by the way.”
“Roxanne, but you can call me Roxy. What brings you to Transylvania? I’m guessing you came from Britain, considering your accent? Seems a rather long way from home, to spend Christmas seeing nothing but snow.”
“Maybe I’m here for the winter discounts and cheap lodging.”
“Hah, let me tell that to my father. He’ll laugh along and charge you double.”
“Please don’t, we don’t have that much on us, and the blizzard doesn’t look quite as welcoming as this fireplace.”
She gave him a knowing smile, as though she had noticed his deflection off the topic of why he and Merlin were there to begin with. She seemed intelligent enough to have sussed him out instantly, but he could tell she was also gracious enough not to pry.
“So…you and your father live here alone?”
She nodded, though it seemed she didn’t quite want to continue on that train of conversation, when Merlin walked over, yanking his scarf off in a rush and shuddering.
“Bloody snow, it gets in absolutely everything. Short of being zip-locked in a man-sized plastic bag, I’ll never not get snow in my shoes.” Merlin paused his rant and turned to look at Roxy.
“Hello there. Pardon me, I didn’t see you. The names’ Merlin.”
“Roxy.”
“Pleasure to meet you. I was long overdue to see something pleasant after the day I’ve had. Snow, disappointment, and more snow.” He growled. Eggsy rolled his eyes at Merlin’s capability to be simultaneously ornery and flattering. Roxy seemed to find it amusing, though, and laughed. “Well then, I do believe your days can only get better from here, or I pray they do.”
“Ah, intercession from an angel herself. Tomorrow is going to be a good day. For tonight, though, I am retiring. Don’t stay up too late, Eggsy, we’re leaving as soon as the snow lets up. It was wonderful meeting you, Roxy.” And with a flurry, he was gone.
“He seems a pleasant man.”
“You should see him when there isn’t a fire nearby.” Eggsy grumbled. Roxy just laughed and swatted Eggsy’s arm. They talked a while about the book Roxy was reading (a Murakami compilation), about living with her father, about her studies abroad to Russia where she studied medicine, about life in Transylvania. Eggsy, in turn, talked about his sister and his parents, about how this would be the third Christmas in a row he wouldn’t be home due to studies and work. He had gotten used to it, but he knew this would be the last one away or his father would just to hunt him down and post him back to his mother ‘without putting any holes in the box’. The scary part was, he took his father’s word on that promise, 100%.
Before long, the two were trading numbers and emails, with promises of keeping in touch. That is, until Roxy’s father (his name was Percival, Eggsy believed he had heard) approached them. He spoke softly to his daughter in Romanian, his face looking tired and more than a little sad. Roxy’s mood instantly took a turn for the somber. “I’m sorry, Eggsy, but I need to retire as well. I’ll talk to you another time?”
“Of course. Talk to you some other time.” Eggsy placated, not wanting her to feel bad considering how nervous she suddenly appeared. As Percival and Roxy went off, he heard three words in Romanian that he had managed to grasp, which were ‘sunset’, ‘bags’ and ‘travelling’. He wondered if Roxy was going to go off somewhere, if her father was talking about packing bags. Perhaps she had to go back to Russia for classes?
Eggsy didn’t have much time to mull over it, before he heard a knock on the front door of the inn. He expected someone to come in immediately, but apparently the door had been locked, because three more loud knocks echoed through the room. One glance at the window had Eggsy rushing to the door. It had just gone dark outside, but the blizzard was still coming down hard all around the inn and he could hear the rough winds outside; he didn’t even want to think about what the person outside the door must be enduring.
He made quick work of the latch on the door and flung it open, to find a shocking sight in front of him. A bespectacled man, with windswept brown hair and a thick winter coat and gloves was standing on the threshold, the raging storm buffeting him from all sides but doing nothing to affect his tall posture and regal face, and for a moment all Eggsy could think was “Merry Christmas, indeed.”
He must have been thinking it for a while, though, since the man cleared his throat and said evenly (or as evenly as one could when trying to speak over a blizzard) “Might you perhaps invite me in? It’s…rather choppy out here.”
And in a millisecond, Eggsy felt like the shittiest human on planet Earth. He had just let the man stand in a blizzard while he got an eyeful. “You get nothing, Eggsy. No Christmas for you. You get coal.” He chastised himself as he stepped aside and ushered the man in. “Much obliged.” The man said politely, a charming smile on his face as if Eggsy hadn’t just subjected him to the freezing weather and Jesus, how could an accent that had seemed ‘rather pleasant’ when it came from Roxy’s mouth not two minutes ago become something so blatantly arousing in Eggsy’s mind? Even the cold wind stinging his face as he closed the door couldn’t stop his face from warming. Who knew he had a thing for accents? Well, apparently he did now. “You think you’d know these things about yourself, Eggsy, you’re already 25 years old.”
“Are you alright?” the man asked, looking a little concerned as Eggsy stood there like an idiot, hand on the latch to lock the door but apparently unable to do so. He tried to reign in his embarrassment, come up with some sort of excuse that wouldn’t come out as a stammer, but the man had already taken a hold of his elbow and was hurrying him closer to the fire. “I’m sorry, you must have just gotten out of the snow yourself, and I’ve taken you away from the fire. Sit, please. Are you feeling cold? I’m sure they keep blankets somewhere around here.” He asked quickly, forcing Eggsy back into a warm and pillowed seat.
“Yeah? Uh no, no. I’m fine. Now. I’m fine now. I’m sorry, it’s been a long day, and I’m a little…out of it.” Eggsy tried to explain away. “Had a long journey.”
“I can relate. This place is rather hard to reach. I’m technically neighbors with this village, and yet my house is a good 2 miles away.”
“Did your car break down in the blizzard?”
“Hmm? Oh no, I walked here.”
“You walked? In this weather? For 2 miles?! I should be asking if you’re cold. I’ve just ben stuck in the back of a cab!” Eggsy gushed in shock, looking the man up and down for signs of pneumonia, trauma, something. All he saw was a ridiculously put together man, so serenely unaffected it was almost ethereal even as he shrugged his thick winter coat off his shoulder, revealing a bespoke suit underneath. For all it’s thickness, the winter coat was not meant for such heavy snowfall, let alone the rest of the man’s outfit. For crying out loud, he was wearing oxfords! “It’s quite alright, I’m a native here and I’m quite used to it. A little snow won’t harm me.” The man explained, hanging his coat on the coat rack near to the fire. “I’m afraid we’ve skipped introductions, in the flurry of the moment. My name is Harry.”
“That…doesn’t seem very Romanian.”
“Well no, my name is Horatiu, but I find Harry more appropriate for modern times…and far more informal. I found myself adopting the name when on my travels. Might I ask what your name might be?”
“I’m Eggsy. Well, I’m Gary, but everyone calls me Eggsy.”
Eggsy swallowed harshly as Harry sat on the couch opposite from him, where Roxy had been sitting just a few minutes before. He had no idea what to make of this man, who seemed to have no fear of death in a blizzard and acted like royalty while sitting in an overstuffed sofa in a run-down inn.
“Uh so…I’ve never seen a man brave a blizzard in a tailored suit and oxfords before. Not that it isn’t impressive, because it is, it’s just…very insane. Not that you’re insane, of course, I don’t think you are…” The man just laughed at the insinuation, though Eggsy contemplated pleading exhaustion and crawling up to the room he would share with Merlin before he completely humiliated himself. Harry had no right to be so disarmingly charming, really, with his rich brown eyes that seemed to reflect the firelight till the appeared to glow that seemed to short circuit Eggsy’s brain.
“I’m used to the cold. I was born and raised in these lands, so I hardly notice it anymore. Sometimes I walk till I lose track of time, not knowing where my destination is till my feet have taken me there. Tell me, Eggsy…how have your feet taken you so far from home?”
Eggsy wondered if he should evade the question in the same manner he had with Roxy, by diverting the topic and Harry’s attention elsewhere. For some reason he could not understand, for the first time in a long time since he began travelling with Merlin, he felt his self-imposed reservations slip away. And so he let it.
“I had finished my Anthropological studies in Germany, in University of Königsberg, and had taken a job as a teaching assistant soon after. And then I met Merlin.”