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Drabble: The Little Things
Category: Stories
// Just some random headcanon drabble//
Hours of pouring rain had turned the road into a muddy slide, clinging to his horse’s hoofs, wearing out the already tired animal even more. Both of them, man and beast, at that point were drenched to the bone and done with the day. The darkening twilight of an early, quickly advancing dusk didn´t help neither to increase mood or motivation.
Even though exhaustion, darkness and cold didn´t concern the Dhampir by nature too much, this was not holding true for his faithful 4-legged companion. And despite all hardiness by now also Alcuard did long for a dry and warm spot and maybe a good stiff or at least tasty drink.
“Come on, just a little bit further – if my memory saves me right there should be a tavern not too far ahead.”, whether the murmured encouragement was meant for the heavily breathing steed or his own increasingly gloomy thoughts remained open for debate.
His memory did serve him right – of course it did. Being a Dhampir also meant to never forget, nothing, ever – a blessing and a curse. To him mostly a curse lately.
Another approximately 20minutes later a dim light started to appear in the distance, in the beginning appearing and vanishing between gust of winds and rain it grew stronger with each step of the horse until the steady, dirty yellowish gleam emitting from a lantern and leaded windows revealed a narrow, crooked building along the way.
Nothing fancy, nothing breathtaking at all, instead another epitome of the gloom and melancholy which held these lands in their grip ever since Alucard could remember.
After having handed over his trusty steed to the care of a gaunt yet astonishingly friendly stable-boy Alucard stepped over the threshold to the guest room through a doorway so narrow that the tall Human-Vampire-Hybrid had to duck his head.
Inside, for a moment, his hand lingered mid-air before he chose not to pull back the soaked hood which long lost its purpose to shield him from rain and elements. Here now, however, it instantly gained another objective, despite as uncomfortable the cold and wet piece of cloth clinging to his wet heir felt. A brief glance around told him that the better option probably was to keep it on, this way hiding the mass of long golden locks, and even more important provided cover in form of lingering shadows to obscure his noble, pale features and bright, golden eyes. Especially latter often enough source of stares and whispers, in an establishment like this though most certainly reason for even more animosities.
The long, simple greyish-black coat also served well to hide his trademark sword and rather worn yet upper-class attire; thus, further preventing unwanted attention towards his person.
His quick assessment of the place concluded that an ominous, cloaked stranger would draw less attention here than glowing eyes, wet yet well-groomed hair and obvious noble lineage. The reaction of the few present guests confirmed this deduction as all he got were some fleeting glances which swiftly returned to their original source of attention, mostly the bottom of a mug or glass.
Long strides carried him over to the counter where a stocky, slightly greasy looking man with receding hairline and a belly clearly in open rivalry with the present beer barrels in terms of circumference size greeted him with a curd nod and a noise possible meant to pass as welcoming grunt.
“Sh*te night, ain´t it? Someth´n to warm yr belly and clear yr throat, master?” the inquiry was delivered by a voice seemingly treated with a daily dose of rusty nails and sharp liquids, if one thought about it, a rather fitting addition to the rest of the Inn-keeps appearance.
Alucard nodded his agreement to the former yet declined the offered food, and when he spoke, taking care that his fangs remained hidden behind his lips all the time, his dark, velvet voice stood in stark contrast to the host´s gravely rasp.
“Something to wash down the toils of the road would be welcome – some of your better and stronger beverages, if you wouldn’t mind.” And with that a pure coin of silver was slid across the worn wood.
For a moment it seemed as if the reflection of dim light of the tallow lamps fixed to the narrow ceiling jumped over into the in-keeps greyish pale eyes, “Oi, ´cours´ master – the house´s finest.”
A clay mug appeared from under the counter together with a huge bottle announcing “Ogg´s Scrumble”. The cork came loose with a reluctant pop as if something was trying to hold it down from inside and upon opening the sweet smell of fermented apples and jolly brain-death followed.
Having lowered his expectations to stale beer or sour wine this discovery came as pleasant surprise to Alucard.
“If you do not mind, I take the bottle – that and a room for the night, good Sir. – will these suffice?” – that said two more silver coins were pushed across the counter.
“Oh... Oi, and how they´ll, master – that´s bleed´n generous…”
“You are welcome, just make sure that I remain undisturbed, will you?”
“Sure, master…”
With that Alucard took mug and bottle and made his way over to one empty table which was located the furthest from the other guests in a rather dark corner with good view towards door and guestroom. A few decades of hunting but also frequently being the hunted – the world´s vampires still were not too happy about the murder of one of their oldest and highest ranking Elder – left him wary even when trying to wind down and get some rest.
With a slight growly sight the hybrid got down, stretched is long legs underneath the table and helped himself to a first long sip of the golden and surprisingly tasty liquid.
- The little things, cherish the little things – it was exactly what he did just now. After three days on the road, spent in stormy and rainy weather, their only shelter the one or other ramshackle barn to wait out the worst downpours, this smoky, gritty place frequented by dodgy looking figures indeed currently for him held a lot of those little things to cherish. 
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