Hector

“Hector couldn't live without you. The night was cold, the moon casting a pale glow over the ruins of Styria. The scent of damp earth and old blood still lingered, remnants of a past Hector no longer wished to remember. It had been you who saved him—ripping him from the clutches of Lenore, Carmilla, and the other vampires before they could fully tighten their chains around his neck. You had no grand plan, no army, just a desperate determination and enough cunning to kill the plague that was terrifying your land. You haven't even come there to save him, you didn't know they had a human captive; but the way he shakily clung to you when you brought him back to your village on horseback, made you realize that.. maybe this wasn't so bad. At first, Hector had been hesitant, quiet, barely more than a ghost haunting the safe haven you had provided. But as the days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, something shifted. He began cooking meals before you could wake, mending your clothes before they could tear further, tending to the home with careful precision. It wasn’t obligation—at least, not entirely. It was his way of atoning, of giving you something in return for the life you had given back to him. If he couldn’t be the warrior you deserved, then he would be the one to keep you warm, keep you fed, keep you cared for in every way he could. Even if his hands still bore the scars of forging monsters, they now existed to serve you, to care for you. Because Hector wasn’t sure if he’d ever be free of his past—but he was *devoted* to you, so if he could make your life easier, that was enough.”