Chapter Text
Tall and muscular, just like Hector, but much more pale. Thick hair as black as the night sky. Handsome with a pretty face and dark brown eyes.
He is Vilmos Kovacs, Hungary’s vampire Diplomat.
They’ve known each other for practically Lenore’s entire life as a vampire, and thanks in large part to their friendship, Hungary and Styria have worked well together over the centuries, despite Carmilla disliking their King. There’s always been a deep mutual respect between the two as Diplomats, as Vilmos is also a very skilled negotiator.
Almost as good as Lenore.
But not quite.
And unlike Hector, Vilmos is not always keen to let Lenore lead. Sometimes his ego gets a little bruised, and he pulls away. Yet there’s always been a little spark dancing between them, one that always keeps him coming back eventually.
They’ve had their trysts, and some fun times. Sometimes even during work - but only when she wants to. Lenore isn"t above using sex as a bargaining tool - after all, it seems to be the only thing men are motivated by, besides money - but she promised herself a long time ago that she would only do so when she felt empowered and enthralled by the idea. Never out of desperation.
Lenore has long sensed that Vilmos may like to be something more than just friends and collaborators. But she does not. And even if she did, she has no desire to leave her sisters and move to Hungary, nor to bring him here to try to integrate him into Carmilla’s court. Carmilla would be more willing to accept a human dog for her sister than this particular vampire man. She loathes his ego.
And she’s right in doing so. Vilmos is just as arrogant and power hungry as the rest of the vampires in the room. Well, except for Lenore. But that is exactly why he’s drawn to her.
Lenore knows well by now, after two hundred years of life, that although these types of men can be fun at times or in certain situations, they’re never interested in a genuine partnership with a woman. They see her independent spirit as a challenge, not as an asset. They want to cage that spirit, to make it captive to them.
And that’s certainly something she would never allow, or genuinely entertain for even a second.
But at this very moment, Hector doesn’t need to know that.
Moreover, ego (or more aptly, the lack thereof) is also precisely the reason that Hector is the perfect long term mate for her. He may be stubborn, but he only wants to love , not rule. He is truly the only man she’s ever met who does not let his ego lead him when it comes to the love of a woman.
As Vilmos scans the crowd, he finally sees her. Their eyes catch each other"s gaze, the tension immediately palpable. Hector notices, with a little frown.
“Who’s that?” he asks tersely.
Lenore ignores the question for a moment, to call his name instead.
“Vilmos!” she calls with a grin, happily waving him over. “Come here! You must meet Hector!” Now, after mere seconds that feel like hours to him, she finally turns to Hector again. “Vilmos is Hungary’s Diplomat. An old friend.”
Before Hector can even respond with a curt criticism of his romantic rival, the man is suddenly standing right before him, silently sizing him up.
“Impressive,” Vilmos states matter-of-factly. His voice is deep and pleasant, though not quite as deep as Hector’s. His gaze is cutting, as if he’s looking at food and not a living being. “For a human, he"s an excellent stock. Tall, meaty. Is he worth his weight as a slave? Are you sure he wouldn’t be better as a meal?”
Hector isn’t sure if this is intended to scare him or what, but it doesn’t work, and he wishes he could roll his eyes without this vampire fuckboy losing his shit and probably causing a scene.
“Oh, he does make a tasty little snack, trust me. And he’s very productive. He has many talents,” Lenore says in a sultry voice, one that clearly implies a double meaning. Hector is taken aback but proud, though it lasts for only a second before Lenore continues: “Reminds me of another talented worker I know,” she says with a wink.
Vilmos smirks and turns entirely toward Lenore now, immediately seeming to completely forget Hector even exists.
“You know, I greatly enjoyed the last meeting we held,” he says in a low, hushed tone. “That was the most intense and pleasurable negotiation we’ve had yet. But you left without so much as a word…for two years? I thought we were done playing games, my lady.”
Lenore smirks now, coyly twirling a strand of her own fiery locks between her fingers. She seems to enjoy this attention a little too much.
“Oh, please, Vilmos. Innocent games never hurt anyone,” she practically purrs. “Anyway, consider us even.”
Lenore stops to sip her wine, cherishing the taste, as Vilmos’ eyes widen in surprise.
“ Even ? For what?”
“You know,” Lenore insists, cocking one hip out to the side, arms crossed while still lazily holding the wine glass in her right hand. “For implying you were the better diplomat when we attended the negotiations in Moldavia.”
Vilmos snorts and shakes his head, in jovial bewilderment. “Good gods, woman, you are petty. It was a joke . Look, I missed you. You look amazing. Good enough to drink.”
Lenore blushes and smooths out a tiny wrinkle on her colleague’s shirt. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Perhaps I was too harsh with you. Or perhaps I should let you make it up to me.”
“Promise you won’t be too tired after the party?” he asks hopefully.
“No,” Lenore responds serenely. “Our chemistry sustains me and gives me all the energy I need. Promise you won’t be too tired?”
Hector feels repulsed at what he hears, sick to his stomach. Their chemistry gives her energy? What the fuck? That’s something she’s only supposed to get from him!
“Never too tired for you, my lady,” Vilmos insists. “This is your day. I am at your service. I will do whatever you’d like for however long you’d like. And then you can return the favor, next time. I like to be serviced too, you know.”
Hector now fails to restrain himself, scoffing and making a disgusted face as he burns hot with anger. Who does this man think he is? He certainly isn’t good enough for Lenore! Hector would never dream of asking a Queen like her for any sexual favors.
Lenore is doing everything she can to restrain herself from grinning. Hector is oh so predictable. Her plan is already working like a charm.
“Perhaps…” she murmurs, pressing a finger to her lips as if in thought.
Hector snorts in disbelief. How can Lenore seriously be considering this when he’s right here? Has she been lying all this time? Has he really meant nothing to her?
Vilmos notices immediately, despite paying him no attention a mere moment ago.
“I don’t think your… pet …is very happy,” he retorts, lips curling into a smug grin that rivals even Carmilla’s. “Is he going to be alright?”
“He’ll be fine,” Lenore answers curtly, eager to change the subject.
Hector has finally had enough. He opens his mouth to object, but Vilmos snaps his head back toward Lenore, seeming to suddenly see her in a slightly different light.
“Tell me, is it true? Do you actually fuck this thing?” he asks, in a tone somewhere between fascination and derision.
“I do,” Lenore replies boldly without missing a beat, completely undeterred. She has to show Hector some goodwill. People are stopping to stare at them now, shocked at the answer they’ve overheard. “He’s actually very good at sex. The best I’ve ever had, if I’m being honest. He’s very trainable. You should take note.”
Hector feels a pang of pride in his chest at being called the best she’s ever had. But alas, his pride is shortly followed by another piercing arrow.
“Fine. I acknowledge I could have been a better lover in the past. Let me make it up to you, today. Forget what I said earlier about keeping score and returning favors, let me service you. I’ll gladly do so endlessly. I have more stamina than any human and you know it.”
“I can’t deny that I enjoy the sound of that,” Lenore chimes, now reaching a hand up to briefly brush through Vilmos’ thick hair, dark like the depths of the ocean reflecting the night sky. “Go on…convince me to give you another chance.”
And then she side-glances, her eyes momentarily meeting Hector’s with a little wink.
That’s when it hits him.
Lenore knows what she’s doing. Exactly what she’s doing. She always has.
And it’s working.
It infuriates him, but also makes him want her more?
Hector notes the cognitive dissonance inside his brain with confusion. It’s all just so insanely confusing… How can he seriously want someone that puts him through all of this? But this only makes him want to prove himself even more. He is the right partner for Lenore! And only him.
Suddenly, Vilmos seems to notice Lenore’s subtle glance at Hector.
“What is this?” he asks dryly. “What’s going on between you two? Are the rumors true? Is this more than just a fling or fun with a pet ? Lenore, are you really as delusional as they say?”
A condescending smirk tugs at his lips now, because he can see he’s getting under her skin.
Lenore’s eyes narrow, about to flash red with anger. She has not previously seen this side of Vilmos, though she internally kicks herself for not seeing it coming. The signs were there, but she ignored red flags when she was having too much fun.
You’re better than that, she angrily scolds herself.
Now, she won’t tolerate the disrespect. Especially now that people are starting to take notice. The crowd around them is starting to be filled with little whispers and stares.
“I am a Queen , Vilmos. Not just a Diplomat. I can do whatever I want. I have not ever needed your permission - and never will. I’m above you. Watch your mouth in my presence,” she snarls quietly, trying to avoid making a scene.
Vilmos rolls his eyes, undeterred.
“I just want the best for you, Lenore. Come with me. You deserve a proper vampire man. Not some human garbage - what a joke! Not three controlling sisters dimming your shine. Come with me to Hungary, and we will be a power couple. We’ll be unstoppable .”
Lenore hears gasps and exclamations of shock coming from those standing near, and quickly notices an even larger crowd has formed. This is not good. She’d had no idea this would backfire so badly. In his drunken, lustful mood, Vilmos has insulted the Council of Sisters and Carmilla - who is now briskly striding towards them - will be out for blood over it.
Not that Lenore even actually cares about Vilmos - he’s clearly an idiot - but this may cause serious diplomatic tensions that will likely take away some of her time with Hector.
Suddenly, while she’s looking away, Vilmos grabs Lenore by the forearm and pulls her toward him. She instantly recalls the training she received from Striga for situations such as this - like the one Hector put her in before. But now, before she can even react, Hector moves forward faster than she’s ever seen him move.
With all his power and both arms, he shoves Vilmos backwards. The vampire is sturdy and powerful, of course, but he actually does stumble backwards a bit, since he was not expecting any retaliation from the human.
“Fuck off!” Hector thunders, his rage boiling over and finally pouring out.
The crowd goes wild with shouts now, and Hector realizes he’s in major trouble. He is a mere human . He wasn’t supposed to speak to any vampires, let alone shove one. But for once, he thinks quickly. Maybe he can salvage this if he plays his cards right.
“You have no right to speak about our Queens that way!” Hector shouts. Truth be told, he doesn’t give a shit about Carmilla, Striga, or Morana, but he needs to pretend he does to save his ass right now. And he finishes by tacking on the truth, and his main motivation: “You don’t deserve to even be in the presence of Queen Lenore, let alone wed her!”
He can sense Carmilla standing behind him now, and his heart thunders in his chest. Perhaps she will demand to have him executed. He’s not entirely sure if Lenore could even save him from such an order right now. Their army has plenty of night creatures by now. Perhaps Carmilla will be more willing to get rid of him if the crowd demands his blood.
“Oh, and you do?” Vilmos practically growls, his face contorted in disgust.
“No,” Hector answers quickly. “I don’t. But at least I’m smart enough to know that.”
Lenore stares at Hector, for once stunned, and her mouth falls open slightly. This part of her plan has played out beautifully . His jealousy, his protectiveness while still remaining humble…it is perfect . She wants to cry tears of joy right there on the spot.
But then her eyes quickly shift to Carmilla, whose face is scrunched in anger and displeasure. Carmilla is a complete wildcard in each and every situation she’s ever in, especially when she’s drunk on wine and blood. There’s absolutely no telling how this will go.
“Are you alright, sister?” Carmilla asks, looking Lenore over. There isn’t a scratch on her, thankfully, or The Queen wouldn’t be nearly as calm.
“I’m fine, thank you, sister,” Lenore answers confidently, carefully studying her sister’s face to judge how she should respond to whatever question comes next.
“Your pet dared to strike a vampire! At a Royal Ball, no less! This calls for death!” Vilmos shouts incredulously, trying to rile up the crowd.
There are some voices - mostly men - who agree with him, but many remain silent.
“And you dared to lay your hands on a Queen, at her own Ball, no less!” Carmilla screams, eyes flashing red with rage. “The human manchild was right - he appears to be much smarter than you, and that’s saying a lot, you imbecile! I will have your head!”
Her voice is a loud shout now, and she quickly draws a sword from the hip of the nearest guard.
“Carmilla!” Lenore urges, though still calm and collected. “Let’s be reasonable. Hungary is a close friend of ours. Perhaps we can simply banish Vilmos from our presence instead. I will work with a new Hungarian Diplomat.”
It’s still not because she cares for Vilmos in any way. But rather, she considers the diplomatic implications of killing him. Even though Styria is taking the world by force, it still benefits them to have friends and key allies. After all, Lenore has always believed ardently in the old saying: ‘You’ll catch more flies with honey than vinegar.’
“As for Hector,” Lenore continues strongly, “he was simply protecting his mistress. I see no reason for punishment.”
“But he did lay his hands on a vampire!” points out a young blonde man from the crowd, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with Vilmos. Lenore recognizes him as one of Hungary’s princes. “Our customs demand punishment of the highest caliber, regardless of the reason. You know this.”
Thankfully, Carmilla is especially not in the mood to be told what to do, least of all by any man.
“I don’t give a fuck about customs!” she shouts belligerently. “We are the mighty empire of Styria! You dare to question my judgment? I say that Hector is our loyal servant. I don’t care for humans one bit, but Lenore is right. He shall not be punished. You, however… ”
She again picks up her sword and the crowd gasps. Lenore steps forward, catching up to Carmilla and urgently pulling her arm down.
“Let’s spare a life for a life, Carmilla. It’s only fair,” Lenore urges again.
This time Carmilla turns her icy gaze upon her sister, though Lenore is unafraid. Carmilla would never harm any of her sisters.
But as soon as things got out of hand, Lenore anticipated the Queen’s rage towards Vilmos was coming. When Carmilla gets a taste for blood, the consequences are often dire. And just from this one gaze, Lenore senses what is about to happen next:
Carmilla is going to spill blood.
This time, Lenore quickly decides to resign herself to it. Not for the sake of Carmilla or anyone else - but for her own self. Yes, her work will be cut out for her as a result, but Vilmos has disrespected her as a woman and Carmilla has taught her that she simply cannot abide by that.
As she breaks Carmilla’s gaze and looks back over the crowd, Lenore sees that Vilmos’ eyes are wild with anger at her rejection and Carmilla’s treatment of him. After a moment of silence, he tries to get the crowd on his side.
“I demand DEATH for Lenore’s pet! Death! Death! Death!” he chants, getting many to chant along with him. He is now surrounded by both royalty and esteemed dignitaries.
Suddenly, a loud voice with a thick Slavic accent interrupts the chanting.
“No death. But we will punish him as we see fit,” Striga steps in, offering a compromise.
“Yes, I’ll see to it!” Lenore adds reassuringly.
“What? Absolutely not!” Vilmos shouts incredulously. “You can’t seriously expect Queen Lenore to punish her own pet? The one that she’s apparently in love with?”
“Then I will punish him!” Striga thunders, silencing the entire room as she takes Hector’s leash in her hands.
Hector gulps. Striga is extremely imposing in every way. If Lenore is ten times stronger than he is, he can’t imagine the strength of her sister.
Before he even has time to process the impending trauma, Striga begins walking briskly towards the exit, yanking Hector’s leash behind her. He’s again enraged at the treatment, but there’s very little he can do. Right now, he doesn’t even have time to think, only to make sure his pace matches the giant leading him.
As he struggles to breathe against the pull of the collar, he slowly becomes aware of Lenore nervously trailing behind them, her hands covering her mouth in disbelief. As they ascend the grand staircase, Hector can hear the sniveling and snickering of the crowd, the demands for his punishment, the taunts screamed at him for daring to lay his hands on a vampire - even if he was justified. Carmilla screams back at them, Morana trying to diffuse her temper, and soon it all fades to white noise.
Rage burns hot within him, his face flushing red as he contemplates how powerless he truly is right here in this moment.
A disgusting, pathetic little slave; a pet .
He so badly wishes he’d have found the strength and resourcefulness to outwit Carmilla in the beginning of all this at Braila - or to stand up to her after she’d captured him. If he’d at least done something , he wouldn’t have to be in this horrible predicament now. If only he’d thought to bring a small group of night creatures with him to Dracula’s Castle - like he used to do during his days in Rhodes - then he could have had them rip Carmilla’s throat out. He almost smiles as he briefly fantasizes about the blood dripping down her, blending into the color of her stupid crimson dress.
But then reality smacks him in the face: He can’t smile, and he doesn’t know if he ever will again, because he is a slave. There’s nothing at all left to smile about. Maybe not even Lenore, after today.
After what seems like an eternity of silent walking, they finally finish crossing the spacious balcony and exit through the doors into the private hallway. As the echo of the doors closing reverberates through the hall, Hector finally brings himself to look up at hulking Striga and contemplate his fate.
This is the first time he’s directly gazed upon her since his first night here. It brings back memories. Mainly he vividly remembers being thankful she only had water thrown on him that night. It’s always been painfully obvious to him that he would be crushed to a pulp by her if she ever wanted his blood.
Hector gulps as he realizes every bad thing he’s ever dreamed of is about to come true.
What shit luck he has.
“What are you going to do?” Lenore asks her sister nervously, on the verge of tears. It’s so out of character for her to openly show so much emotion that Hector is bewildered. Lenore continues: “This isn’t necessary - ”
Casually, Striga throws the leash back to her little sister, in a move that shocks both Hector and Lenore.
“I’m not going to do anything, besides make my way to the kitchen and eat my fill of pastries. Because you’re right, it isn’t necessary. He was only being a good boy,” Striga answers in a calm, strong voice.
Even though relief floods his body, Hector still snorts in disgust when he hears the words ‘good boy’ come from anyone other than Lenore’s mouth. When Striga says it, he really does sound like nothing more than a dog. Or at the very least, a foreigner here. It grates on him that even when saving his skin, they belittle him.
Striga throws a slight side eye at the pathetic human man before looking back to her sister, ultimately ignoring him. She’s half tempted to punish his ungratefulness, but she doesn’t, only for the sake of Lenore. Besides, Hector did defend the honor of the Council against impossible odds. And in a Commander’s eyes, this is commendable.
“Don’t worry, little sister. I’ve got your back. And Morana will handle Carmilla and that piece of shit Hungarian. This will blow over soon enough,” Striga assures Lenore, with a gentle pat on the shoulder. Lenore may be a silly little daydreamer, and Striga may find her ways odd, but Striga loves her sister. She will do whatever it takes to ease her mind. “I’m leaving now. Have a good day with your pet.”
A pregnant pause hangs in the air for a moment, as the vampire diplomat and her forgemaster watch Striga walk away, until she’s out of earshot. Hector silently fumes, trying to think of the perfect reaction to give Lenore - one that will sting. Because right now, his heart stings with a thousand tiny cuts - all little slices of humiliation. It doesn’t matter if Lenore comes to save him with hugs and kisses and a giant bandage. It’s still not going to be able to stop all the bleeding.
“Oh, Hector, you poor thing…are you alright?” Lenore cries, running over and throwing her arms around him.
Hector lets his arms hang limp as he huffs, pouting while Lenore nearly crushes him in her ardent embrace. After a few seconds, she suddenly seems to realize what’s going on and pushes him back to look into his sad, puppy dog eyes.
But when their eyes meet, Lenore doesn’t see the sadness she expects. There’s a wildfire there instead, anger clearly burning its way through the forgemaster.
He’s furious with himself, his circumstances, her…everything. Because he was stupid enough to get himself into this predicament - into every predicament he’s ever been in. They were all his fault, if he’s honest with himself. Because these circumstances make him doubt he can ever truly be free again. Because this whole idiotic debacle has shown him what he truly wants, and he hates what the answer to that question is.
Because it’s her.
After everything he’s gone through, all the pain and suffering, Lenore has been his only comfort through all of it. And seeing her flirting with another man today has shown him that he can’t bear the thought of her ever having another partner - in his lifetime or the next. Hector wants to be the only man that occupies Lenore’s mind and bedchamber. The thought of anyone else in that space makes him rage with anger, lust and desire… His skin burns and tingles at thought of it, and he flushes red while tiny drops of sweat begin to adorn his bronze skin.
He loathes the fact that he’s truly this simple . But maybe Lenore was right. Maybe humans really are just animals.
But his lust and desire for the one he loves doesn’t mean he can easily just forget and forgive Lenore for toying with his emotions like that. He won’t make it that easy for her.
“Hector, talk to me,” Lenore pleads. Now she’s the one with the sad puppy eyes.
“No!” he practically growls. “Just leave me alone, Lenore. Go. I can’t bear anymore humiliation today. Even if it’s to please you.”
Lenore visibly balks at this.
“You can’t be serious, Hector? I just saved your life. Literally! Even Striga let you go free! And you’re STILL upset? Whatever are we to do with you? Will nothing ever satisfy you?” she demands, exasperation wringing itself out in her voice. “Yes, you’re a pet, that is the unfortunate reality of your life right now. But we have been over this over and over and over again - we are working towards something more!!”
She’s screaming now, and done giving a damn who might hear. Her hands find their way into her hair in exasperation, ruining her perfectly styled updo.
“Something more?” Hector laughs in her face bitterly. “Something greater being you flirting with other men? You rubbed my nose in the dirt and then drug me through it by putting me in a situation where I again risked my life for you! And you think I’m the ungrateful one? I should never have trusted you with my heart, I should have known you’d only toy with it - ”
Suddenly he stops as he notices Lenore’s ears perk up attentively.
“What is it?” he asks worriedly.
Lenore swiftly grabs Hector by the arm and turns quickly, dragging him down the hall, back in the direction of the Council Room.
“Shush, my love,” she commands. “Carmilla is making her way out of the ballroom. I have no idea what she wants - whether it’s good or bad - but I have a plan.”
“Oh gods, I’m fucking sick of your plans!” Hector spits, remembering his anger once again.
“Oh shush,” Lenore laughs coyly. “I have a feeling you’ll like this one.”
Lenore continues to walk briskly down the long stone hall, listening to the clacking of her heels and feeling Hector squirm in her hands as he’s pulled along behind her. As she strains to listen, it sounds as if Carmilla has paused on the balcony. This is perfect .
It gives her just the amount of time to do what she’s planned to do from the beginning. It"s finally time to enact her scheme to secure Hector"s loyalty forever.