Vol. 1. Chapter 6. Do we have a deal?

Clasping Cath closer, his fur a comforting buffer against the tension, I shot Altrouge a level gaze. "Just a friendly request—don't eat my mum," I stated, aiming for a mix of humor and seriousness. This elicited a curious arch of her eyebrow.

"And why not plead for your safety instead?" she teased, her amusement palpable.

"Well, you've all but marked me as non-human, so I guess I'm not exactly appetizing?" I retorted, trying to mask my unease with humor. Her laughter, light and musical, filled the air, though it did little to ease my growing anxiety.

"Ah, but you do have a rather tempting scent," she flirted back, causing me to grip Cath even tighter.

"Cougar," I muttered under my breath, though not quietly enough, it seemed. Her sharp hearing didn't miss a beat, her expression momentarily sharpening. "Excuse me?" she responded, feigning calm but clearly irked.

In a half-serious, half-joking defense, I lifted Cath higher, making him my makeshift shield. "You heard me," I said, more boldly than I felt.

For a moment, her smile wavered, her annoyance visible. But, unexpectedly, she burst into genuine laughter, holding her sides.

"It's been ages since anyone dared to poke fun at me so freely at their own peril," she admitted, finding genuine amusement in our exchange.

As I lowered Cath back to my lap, I couldn't help but be puzzled by her reaction. The genuine smile on her face as she composed herself suggested a lighter mood.

"Thank you for that. It's refreshing," she said, her tone warm. "And for the record, I'll overlook your silence on your magic core."

My face fell. "How did you—" I began, before facepalming.

Her smirk widened, a look of triumph evident. "Just a hunch, but your reaction was all the confirmation I needed," she declared, her smugness reaching new heights.

Feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration, I could feel my cheeks burn with shame. It seemed Altrouge sensed my discomfort and decided to steer the conversation back to safer waters.

"Let's return to our original discussion," she suggested, easing the atmosphere.

Grateful for the shift, I nodded, finding solace in petting Cath. "Yes, that sounds like a plan," I agreed, eager to move past my moment of stupidity.

"So, you were about to tell me more about how your condition affects you." She said with a straight face, making me fell a pang of annoyance.

Raising an eyebrow, I couldn't let her previous comment slide. "We're just going to gloss over the part where you're a significant threat to humanity, then?" My question prompted Altrouge to wave off the concern as if swatting away a bothersome fly.

"Let's not dwell on that. I'm far more curious about the effects of your draconic blood beyond mere physical strength," she redirected with an evident interest in her voice.

Leaning back, I sighed, the weight of her curiosity pressing down.

"Well, my mother and I are still trying to piece that puzzle together. Beyond what you've observed, my elemental affinity is, well, a mess." Cath, sensing my frustration, nudged closer, offering silent support as I continued.

"It's like a mishmash—primarily fire, wind, and ether, but I can manage some earth and water spells with enough effort and Od. Honestly, it's been a bit of a headache for both of us."

Her response was a hum, filled with a hint of amusement, probably at the expense of my predicament.

Then, unexpectedly, she offered, "What if I could offer you some assistance?" Her proposition caught me off guard, prompting a wary glance from me.

"That... might be helpful," I conceded, though my voice dripped with caution.

"But what's the catch?" I pressed. No magus would give out help for free, and I highly doubt some vampire princess would be more charitable.

Her lips curled into a half-smile, her suggestion coming as though it were the most natural request in the world.

"Well, since you're so generously offering, how about we agree on free room and board? Oh, and let's not forget a weekly supply of your blood while I'm here," she proposed, tilting her head innocently as if her request was anything but outrageous.

I sighed, shooting Altrouge an exasperated look, then massaged the bridge of my nose in frustration.

"Look, the decision to host guests isn't mine to make. That's my mother's call. And honestly, I doubt she'd be thrilled with the idea of you moving in," I said, trying to convey the absurdity of her request with a look usually reserved for explaining the obvious to the utterly clueless.

Altrouge clutched her chest dramatically, feigning offense. "Would you really turn away a friend, leaving her to fend for herself in the cold, cruel world?" she lamented.

I couldn't help but give her a flat, skeptical stare. "Given that you're supposedly vampire royalty, I'm pretty sure you've got a castle or two to call home. So, 'fending for yourself' shouldn't be too hard," I retorted, unimpressed by her theatrics.

She pouted, crossing her arms in mock indignation. "Humph. And here I thought we were starting to bond."

"You pummeled me into the ground less than five minutes ago," I reminded her, earning an eye roll and a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Let's not dwell on the details. I was merely trying to get to know you better," she said, brushing off the incident before her expression turned sly. "However, I believe I have the perfect plan to persuade your mother."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. "Oh? Do share."

Altrouge examined her nails with feigned interest. "Simple. I'll inform her of my growing boredom and suggest that aiding in your development might alleviate my boredom."

I stared at her, incredulous. "You really think telling her, 'I'm bored, so let me stick around your child for entertainment,' is going to work?" I asked, my tone dripping with skepticism.

Unperturbed by my doubt, Altrouge continued, her voice casual yet chilling. "Well, when an Apostle Ancestor gets bored, it typically results in... unfortunate incidents. Rivers of blood, missing cities—that sort of thing."

Her nonchalant mention of potential massacres sent a shiver down my spine. If keeping her amused could prevent such catastrophes, then perhaps entertaining her whims was the lesser of two evils.

With a heavy sigh, I resigned myself to the situation.

"Alright, let's lay down some ground rules," I conceded, dropping my hand to count them off. "Firstly," I began, holding up a finger, "no killing or hurting anyone while you're in Britain." Altrouge's pout was almost comical.

"And what if I find myself peckish, or Cath needs his exercise?" she inquired, prompting a wary glance from me to Cath, who was contentedly purring in my lap.

"Cath's a concern?" I echoed, puzzled. Her sweet smile did nothing to ease the sudden tension.

"Well, you see, he's not just any pet. He's ranked number one on the Ancestor list, known as 'Primate Murder' or 'The Beast of Gaia.' His favorite pastimes include dining on humans and getting ear scratches."

Message received. I immediately set to scratching behind his ears, rewarded with his delighted "Kyuu..."

My nerves tingled with the realization of the company I kept. Altrouge was a terrifying creature, but Cath, this seemingly innocent creature, somehow posed an even greater threat.

"I suppose we can negotiate some terms," I found myself saying, earning a self-satisfied smirk from Altrouge.

"I thought you'd come around," she gloated.

Ignoring her smugness, I pressed on. "If Cath requires 'exercise,' perhaps a trip to France could be arranged. They could use some... population management," I suggested, half-joking yet half-serious, given the gravity of their natures.

Her eyes widened slightly at my proposition. "...You're comfortable with us massacring a bunch of humans?" she asked, disbelief lacing her voice.

No, the idea was far from comfortable, but facing two apex predators, concessions seemed necessary. "Labeling the French as 'human' might be generous. A few disappearing? I see no issue," I replied, a small joke to mask my discomfort.

She seemed to mull over my words, then nodded thoughtfully. "Interesting... So, the English disdain for the French is more than just a stereotype," she mused, a hint of amusement in her tone.

At her comment, and raised a second finger for emphasis. "Secondly, let's keep the chaos to a minimum while in Britain. The last thing I need is word getting out that the Pendragons are harboring you two," I said, aiming for a tone that mixed seriousness with a hint of humor.

"Acceptable," she concurred with a nod, her agreement quick and without fuss.

"Third," I continued, holding up another finger, "you're to keep any secrets you stumble upon within these walls—mine or my family's—strictly confidential." Her eyebrow arched in surprise.

"Not trying to bar me from uncovering your family's mysteries?" she asked, a mix of amusement and curiosity in her voice.

"I know better than to think I could stop someone like you from digging around. I'm banking on your discretion instead," I admitted, earning a nod of understanding from her.

"At least you're sensible," she quipped, her tone light but approving.

Ignoring her slight, I laid out the terms clearly. "Here's the deal: abide by these rules and secure my mother's blessing, and you're welcome to stay. You'll assist with my training, and in return, you'll receive weekly access to 250ml of my blood, alongside free room, board, and the occasional jaunt to France for... 'leg stretching.' How's that sound?" I proposed, extending my hand to seal the deal.

She pondered for a moment, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I'll agree, on the condition that the blood donation increases with your age. 250ml is sufficient for now, but I'll expect more as you grow," she specified, her terms clear and fair in her eyes.

"Understandable. We can adjust the amount based on what I can safely give," I concurred, relieved she was amenable to negotiation. Her hand clasped mine, sealing our arrangement.

Suddenly, I felt an inexplicable pressure envelop me, fleeting yet undeniable. Withdrawing my hand, I eyed her warily. "What was that feeling just now?" I inquired, a mix of curiosity and caution coloring my tone.

Altrouge's amusement was palpable as she explained, "I'm also known as the 'Master of Blood and Contract.' It's only natural I have my ways of solidifying a pact," she revealed, her smile revealing a hint of her predatory nature.

With a heavy sigh, I shot Altrouge a look tinged with irritation. "A heads-up about your 'binding contract' capabilities would have been nice before we shook on it. What else is in your arsenal of surprises? Any other god-tier abilities I should be wary of?" I inquired, my tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Well, my repertoire includes a reality marble, the ability to reverse time on myself for healing, and mystic eyes," she listed, her voice dripping with pride.

I met her boast with a bland stare. "Fascinating. Now, about that help you promised—shall we start?" Her excitement seemed to deflate slightly at my nonchalant dismissal of her powers, her pout quickly turning into a resigned huff.

"First, I need to observe your abilities more closely before I can offer any tailored guidance on mastering your element," she conceded casually, then brightened with a mischievous grin. "But, that can wait. How about a tour of my new abode first?"

Her suggestion made my eyebrow twitch in annoyance. "I was under the impression you'd be assisting me straight away," I remarked, earning a patronizing smile in return.

"Oh?" she feigned surprise, placing a finger thoughtfully on her chin. "I don't believe I specified a start date for my assistance," she countered with a smug air.

Glancing down at Cath, who dozed contently in my lap, I muttered, "Feels like I'm being scammed..."

Altrouge overheard, and made her way to me before resting a hand on my shoulder with a mock-reassuring smile.

"Perhaps 'exploited' is the term you're looking for?" she suggested, causing me to narrow my eyes at her dubious comfort.

"Stand up," she commanded, a trace of impatience in her voice.

I shot her a flat look. "Considering I currently serve as a pillow for the most dangerous creature on the planet, I'd rather not stand up and accidentally wake him," I reasoned, only for Altrouge to scoff lightly.

Without hesitation, she scooped Cath up by the scruff, eliciting a grumble of protest from him, and perched him atop my head.

"There, problem solved. Just keep steady, and you won't disturb his sleep," she instructed, leaving me to balance precariously.

Rising carefully, I did my best to maintain equilibrium, keen on not upsetting Cath. Altrouge's laughter filled the air as she tugged me along, eager to explore.

"Onward! Your wine cellar awaits my inspection," she declared, pulling me toward the manor with a sense of urgency.

As we moved, a sinking feeling told me her stay might just become an extremely costly 'inspection'.

~~Fate/False Order~~

Rosalind's day had morphed from a routine visit to the Clock Tower into an exhaustive saga that lasted an unexpected four hours. Initially, she had anticipated a quick meeting, a simple in-and-out affair. However, it quickly devolved into a frenzied effort to draft emergency plans due to unforeseen complications.

Her frustration was compounded by several magi who, rather than comply with her directives to assist, chose instead to seclude themselves within their workshops, hoping to simply wait out the crisis.

This obstinacy forced Rosalind, alongside a few enforcers, to physically remove them from their hideouts as a demonstration of authority, further eating into her valuable time.

The situation escalated during their final intervention when they stumbled upon a magus conducting experiments on a restrained dead apostle.

This discovery necessitated an extended stay for Rosalind, as she had to oversee the immediate execution of both the magus and the dead apostle.

The drive back home offered a brief respite, yet the pace felt agonizingly slow. Rosalind's mind was consumed with worry over Alistair, whom she had left alone for a total of six hours — significantly longer than the two and a half hours she had initially planned.

Alistair's maturity and independence, likely a byproduct of his origin of 'Understanding,' usually gave her peace of mind regarding his ability to care for himself.

Yet, the maternal instinct in her couldn't shake off the unease at the thought of him being unattended for so long, especially considering the myriad of mishaps that could befall an unsupervised child practicing magecraft or interacting with Biscuit.

Her anxiety was further fueled by the alarming news of not just two but possibly four Dead Apostle Ancestors lurking within England, coupled with the worry for her son's safety back at home.

"Are we finally back?" Rosalind inquired, her tone laced with a mix of hope and exhaustion. The driver's eyebrow twitched in visible annoyance at the question.

"Perhaps a glance outside might save us both from your incessant brooding," she suggested, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

With a slight grunt of acknowledgment, Rosalind reluctantly shifted her gaze towards the window, only to find the familiar sight of their driveway unfolding before her eyes.

She clicked her tongue in annoyance, turning towards Amelia with a look of mild irritation. "A simple 'yes' would have sufficed," she remarked, her patience evidently thinning.

Amelia caught her eye in the rearview mirror, her expression one of restrained frustration. "And perhaps a smidgen of patience from your end, would have spared me from you sounding like a child with all the 'Are we there yet?' comments," she retorted, her patience clearly worn thin by the journey.

Rosalind's attempt at defense was swift. "The last few hours have tested my limits," she argued, trying her hardest to deflect any blame.

Amelia, unimpressed, shot back just as quickly. "Lest you forget, I've been at your side through every moment of it. My patience is equally frayed," she pointed out, in a firm tone.

Faced with Amelia's irrefutable logic, Rosalind conceded silently, the remainder of their journey home passing in a mutual, understanding silence as they each contemplated the exhausting day that lay behind them.

As soon as the car came to a stop in front of the grand manor, Rosalind's impatience got the better of her.

Without waiting for Amelia's assistance, she swiftly exited the vehicle and hastened into the manor, her voice echoing through the spacious foyer, "Alistair, I'm back!" She paused momentarily, hoping for an echo of footsteps or a reply, but silence greeted her.

With a sigh tinged with concern, she ventured deeper into the manor.

Rosalind's search was thorough yet fruitless. She peered into the living room, scanned the library, glanced through the music room, and even popped her head into the kitchen.

Her workshop and Alistair's room revealed nothing but the quiet hum of the manor's life. A quick detour to the stables also proved unproductive. With each empty room, a sense of unease began to claw at her, the silence of the manor weighing heavily on her heart.

Compelled by a mother's intuition, Rosalind decided to check the game room last.

It was a space she had outfitted with several arcade games, hoping to entice Alistair with the allure of popular entertainment among youngsters, yet he had never shown much interest in the games.

As she approached, the muffled sound of voices from within sparked a mixture of relief and irritation. It seemed Amelia had indeed located Alistair before her and had neglected to inform her.

With a frown creasing her brow, Rosalind prepared to confront them, her mind racing with the conversations they might be having without her.

The moment Rosalind swung the game room door open, her usual cheerful greeting was abruptly cut short. "I'm back, Alistair, sorry for the wa–" She stopped mid-sentence, her voice catching in her throat as her eyes landed on an unexpected scene.

Her son, Alistair, stood beside a girl clad in a frilly dress adorned with red roses, her long black hair cascading down her back as she was engrossed in a 'Super Mario' arcade game.

However, what truly sent a shiver down Rosalind's spine was the sight of a small, fluffy white creature, resembling a wolf cub, perched regally atop her son's head.

Hearing his mother's voice, Alistair pivoted to greet her, the dark-haired girl beside him still fixated on her game.

"About time you came home, mo–" His words were abruptly cut off by a deep, menacing growl emanating from the creature on his head.

Its eyes, initially a soft amethyst purple, flashed a threatening feral red, directed squarely at Rosalind. Rooted to the spot, she felt an overwhelming sense of dread envelop her.

Locked in the gaze of what she recognized as the beast of Gaia, Rosalind was paralyzed, the creature's hostility palpable in the air.

In a swift response, Alistair reached up, firmly yanked the creature's tail, eliciting a surprised "Ku!" from it. The action seemed to break the spell; the creature's eyes softened back to purple, and its aura of aggression dissipated.

Whimpering at the rebuke, the creature's tail coiled protectively around itself. "No attacking anyone in my home, least of all my mother," Alistair reprimanded with unexpected authority, addressing the infamous Primate Murder.

The creature, now subdued, responded by gently batting at Alistair's forehead with its paw.

Rosalind stood there, utterly flabbergasted.

The scene before her defied all logic. Yanking on the tail of Primate Murder, a creature known for its lethal hostility, should have ended disastrously. Yet, there her son was, handling the beast as if it were a mildly irritated house pet.

"Alistair… could you possibly explain what's going on here?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly, aware of the precariousness of the moment.

Alistair responded with a tight smile, sensing his mother's unease.

"Ah, yes, let's start with introductions," he said, reaching up to gently lift the Beast of Gaia from his head, holding it out as one might present a cherished pet.

"This is Cath Palug," he announced, giving the creature a gentle jiggle. "Fou!" Cath vocalized in response, squirming slightly in midair as if disapproving of the sudden handling.

Noticing Cath's irritation, Alistair carefully placed it back on his head, only to receive a playful smack across his face with its tail.

Unfazed by the tail obstructing his view, Alistair pressed on. "And that girl completely absorbed in the arcade game is Altrouge Brunestud," he continued, nodding towards the girl who remained fixated on 'Super Mario,' her concentration unbroken.

Altrouge let out an exasperated sigh at her introduction. "Couldn't you have found a more dignified way to introduce me?" she quipped, eyes still glued to the screen.

Alistair's reply was dripping with sarcasm. "Perhaps I would have, if you'd bothered to pause and greet my mother properly," he retorted, prompting a dismissive scoff from Altrouge.

"As you can clearly see, I'm in the midst of a critical mission. I have a princess to rescue," she declared, her tone brimming with mock seriousness.

Alistair simply shrugged, turning back to his mother, whose eyes remained locked on the creature comfortably perched atop her son's head, not daring to remove her gaze from something so dangerous.

"So, Cath here," he gestured towards the creature that seemed more like a myth than reality, "managed to track me down from who knows where. And Altrouge," he nodded towards the girl who hadn't spared a glance away from the arcade screen, "just tagged along because, apparently, Cath finding something interesting that doesn't involve his usual... hobbies is a rare event." A cheerful "Kyu!" from Cath punctuated his explanation.

Alistair glossed over the alarming ease with which these terrifying entities infiltrated their home, a point that made Rosalind mentally add 'upgrade security systems' to her ever-growing list of things to do.

"They just popped in after I finished with the horses. We had a bit of a chat, and before I knew it, I was hosting a casual get-together with some of the most dangerous entities known to our world," Alistair recounted, his tone a mixture of bemusement and mild annoyance.

He then turned to Rosalind, his expression growing more serious.

"Mum, I think we need to bump up the 'Identifying Potentially Lethal Beings 101' section of our Moonlit World curriculum. I was embarrassingly clueless about just who I was dealing with here," he admitted, his voice tinged with irritation.

Altrouge, without missing a beat from her game, chuckled at his expense. "Honestly, your ignorance made things much smoother. Consider it a blessing in disguise," she quipped, her attention still riveted on rescuing the digital princess.

Alistair shook his head, clearly exasperated but pressing on. "Right, so, Altrouge and I have struck a sort of... preliminary agreement. It's pending your approval, of course. Then there was the wine theft—"

"Sampling," Altrouge interjected, her eyes never leaving the screen.

"Yes, 'sampling,'" Alistair corrected himself with an eye roll. "She 'sampled' her way through thirteen bottles of what she describes as 'decent vintages'. Emptied every last one of them."

Altrouge's only response was a contented hum, apparently very pleased with her 'sampling' session.

"And then I dragged her here, where she commandeered the arcade. Hasn't moved since," Alistair concluded, gesturing towards Altrouge, who acknowledged the mention with a noncommittal hum.

Rosalind, processing this whirlwind of a narrative, could only blink slowly, her mind racing to catch up with the surreal reality her son had nonchalantly laid before her.

"You were talking about some sort of agreement... Care to share more?" Rosalind pressed, her gaze shifting to Altrouge, the ancient vampire lounging with an air of detached interest.

"Altrouge, seems like it's your cue," he casually tossed the conversational ball into Altrouge's court, eliciting a muted growl from the Dead Apostle Ancestor.

"Hang on, let me wrap up this level," Altrouge responded, her focus still half on her video game, which made Alistair roll his eyes. "You've been on that level for the last thirty minutes. Maybe try hitting pause—"

"I'm not stuck; I'm simply thoroughly examining the mechanics of this level," she cut in, a hint of defensiveness in her tone, while Alistair couldn't help but crack a wry grin.

"Seems like the only thing you're thoroughly examining are the various ways to die in this game," he quipped, the comment made Altrouge momentarily stiffen, before she swiftly decide to ignore the jab, her attention returning to her game. Alistair turned back to his mother with a reassuring smile.

"Anyway, the important part is that she's promised not to harm anyone here. So I'll take Cath and leave you two to discuss the terms of the deal Altrouge and I have struck up." At the mention of a 'deal,' Rosalind's expression clouded over with worry.

"Alistair… have you actually struck a deal with her…" Her voice carried a weight of concern, prompting a sigh from her son.

"Honestly, I didn't know the full extent of it until after we shook on it. You can still back out without any consequence, but I'd urge you to weigh your options carefully before deciding to void our arrangement," Alistair advised, his tone serious yet calm. Rosalind let out a tense breath.

"Alright, then. Leave the room with… Cath… I think I'd feel more at ease discussing this without its presence," she managed to say, her voice steadying.

Alistair nodded understandingly. "We'll be in the living room," he said, then shot a glance at Altrouge. "And be on your best behavior, or I'm pulling the plug on your game," he half-threatened, half-teased, earning a low chuckle from the vampire.

"Fear not, I shall be the epitome of decorum," Altrouge replied, a playful edge to her voice. With a nod from Alistair, he headed towards the door, exiting the room but not before flashing a thumbs up to his mother.

As soon as the door closed behind Alistair and his fluffy companion, Altrouge put the game on pause and pivoted to face Rosalind, her demeanor shifting dramatically.

The playful, somewhat petulant girl vanished, replaced by the centuries-old Master of Blood and Contracts.

"Now, Lady Pendragon, we have a deal to finalize."

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A/N

Welcome back, my reader Overlords, please add this to your library and give me some comments, stones and Reviews, as it would be much appreciated.

Now that the mandatory begging is done, time to ask the hard hitting questions.

Did Altrouge make a good first impression? I know that beating someone black and blue on their first encounter might sound bad, but I know that Shonen protagonists do it all the time, so it's probably socially acceptable.

Any suggestions on what you wish to see for the next chapter? After all, I do read what you guys comment.

Btw, I have made a Discord server for the fic, come on and chat with me! https://discord.gg/wWRhZrbx

Now that's all! Time to write another chapter, so go and enjoy yourselves while I slave away. Bu-by!