Imagine Book 2

A Tavern Encounter- Gabriel Van Helsing (Van Helsing Film)

Fem Y/N

𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈

The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the tavern's weathered wooden tables, matching Van Helsing's dark mood. His leather duster was still damp from the chase through the forest, and his hat sat askew on the table beside an ever-emptying bottle of whiskey. The monster hunter's usually sharp eyes were clouded with self-recrimination and alcohol.

"Another," he growled at the bartender, who hesitated before pouring another measure into the glass. The night's failure weighed heavily on him – the werewolf had been within his grasp, mere inches from his silver-loaded crossbow, before vanishing into the darkness. Now another innocent life could be lost because of his inadequacy.

The tavern's door creaked open, letting in a gust of cold mountain air. Y/N stepped inside, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the usual crowd of travellers and locals, before landing on the brooding figure at the bar. Something about his demeanour called to her – a familiar pain she recognized all too well.

She approached carefully, sliding onto the stool beside him. "This seat taken?" she asked softly, though she had already made herself comfortable.

Van Helsing barely glanced at her. "There are plenty of other seats in this establishment, miss."

"True," Y/N replied, ordering a drink of her own. "But none quite as interesting as this one." She studied his profile in the dim light – the strong jaw tightened with tension, the slight tremor in the hand that gripped his glass. "You look like a man carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders."

He let out a bitter laugh. "The world? No. Just the lives I failed to save tonight." He took another drink, wincing at the burn.

"Failed to save... or haven't saved yet?" Y/N asked carefully. She had heard whispers of the monster hunter, tales of his exploits echoing through the village. "There's a difference, you know."

Van Helsing turned to her then, really looking at her for the first time. Her eyes held no judgment, only genuine concern and something else – understanding. "Tonight, I let a monster slip through my fingers. Tomorrow, it could kill again. That blood will be on my hands."

"And how many will die if you drink yourself into a stupor and are too unsteady to hunt tomorrow?" She placed her hand gently on his arm. "You're in no condition to travel tonight."

"I don't have much choice in the matter. The inn is full, and I–"

"Then you'll stay with me," Y/N interrupted, her voice firm but kind. "I have a spare room, and you look like you could use a proper meal and some rest."

Van Helsing started to protest, but Y/N was already standing, gathering his hat and coat. "I don't need your charity, miss."

"It's not charity," she said with a small smile. "Consider it an investment in tomorrow's hunt. Come on, monster hunter. Let me help you help others."

Something in her words, or perhaps her unwavering gaze, broke through his stubborn resistance. He stood, swaying slightly, and she quickly steadied him with a hand on his arm.

The walk to her cottage was quiet, broken only by the sound of their boots on the cobblestones and the distant howl of what they both hoped was merely a normal wolf. Y/N's home was modest but welcoming, with herbs drying from the rafters and a fire already banked in the hearth.

"Sit," she commanded, pointing to a comfortable chair while she stoked the fire back to life. "When was the last time you ate?"

Van Helsing had to think about it, which was answer enough. Y/N shook her head and moved to the kitchen, soon returning with bread, cheese, and a bowl of still-warm stew she had made earlier.