[Do the woods frighten her? That would be understandable, especially considering tonight. The way she tenses makes it clear, but he would indeed protect her.
But he listens, arching a brow, turning the words over and over in his head. Gold with topaz for her brother, a necklace for her. Play with her jewelry.]
Rather well off for peasants, aren't you?
[Perhaps earlier in the day, he'd have been livid about being lied to. That he'd have ushered her out immediately, sent her away and never looked back.
But he would not be quick to throw away also what she'd done for him. The relief in her eyes, her kindness, her comfort, even her embrace.]
[He's promised her before that he wouldn't be angry with her, and he wasn't after she eventually told the whole of the truth. Really, that's all she's done again. Never lied outright, but only omitted things. Kept silent. Changed the subject.]
You did, a number of times, and I never corrected you. I suppose I certainly looked like one, showing up in rags as I did. And I deferred to you as any guest seeking favors ought to, of a host. And I called you sir when I made myself your servant, as a servant ought to.
[She glances at him from beneath half-lowered eyelashes, offering a wobbly smile.]
But if we were headed back to my castle instead of yours, I suppose I might outrank you, truthfully. So — yes, we're rather well off for peasants. But we're just about right, for a royal family.
I suppose that's true. You'd never really told me otherwise, and I made my own assumptions. And perhaps your old clothes were suitable for someone attempting to hide from another person. A clever one, aren't you?
[Alucard pauses, pushing some branches aside to let them through as they get closer to the castle.]
Oh, don't. You won't let me call you milord, you can't possibly think I'll put up with being "my lady"ed.
[Now she does sidestep a little, just enough to make it a seeming accident when she nudges her elbow against him. Certainly a completely unintentional bump. Not deliberate in the slightest.]
It's called Daventry. On the banks of the Southern Sea? With the Great Mountains to the north. If — if that helps.
[There's skepticism in her tone, it's true, but it doesn't seem to be directed at Alucard's assertion that he's the son of Dracula. If anything, it's more of sideways agreement that the Dracula of Kolyma is very, very decidedly not his father.]
I'm afraid I don't know much about it. Just the story I was told, it was all before I was born. And I don't know how long he might've been there before my father met him. But I remember he said...there were ghosts guarding his castle, and a ferryman to take him across the sickly moat, and poison brambles all about the path? And Dracula himself wore a black cloak...oh! And a ruby ring! Big enough to have initials engraved in it, "C-D".
[She casts him a sheepish look.]
I...suppose that doesn't sound like your father at all?
[Alucard says it wryly, but he doesn't scold Rosella for believing such stories. He's heard several ridiculous tales about Dracula, and so many of them have been far from the truth. This one is at least has some basis, just for the wrong reasons.]
This does remind me something that Dracula used to complain about, actually.
[Which is good timing; they finally make it through the woods and into the clearing with both the castle and the sealed Belmont Hold.
Ghosts guarding the castle. Alucard pauses, glancing at the skeletal remains of his betrayers, but instead focuses on the castle itself.]
There was a vampire in my father's court, eager for power but too cowardly and weak to do anything for himself, at least in comparison to others. It is said, actually, that he found a way into another realm to establish himself: Kolyma. It would be there that no one else could challenge him, the lone vampire that could rule over humans without much to fear. And why not use the famed Dracula's name to boast himself?
That wasn't his name, of course. And Father was furious about it to the point it was almost comical.
[As they finally break free of the woods, Rosella visibly relaxes, letting her shoulders drop with a soft sigh at the familiar — albeit slightly terrifying, still — sight of the great twisted castle in the clearing. And there is the pit she's not supposed to go into, and there are the...skeleton bones...
Ah, yes. Home sweet home.
Well, it's still worlds better than a date with the blue meanie, regardless.]
Really! He had no luck in these circumstances, so he had to scurry off to try his hand in different ones somewhere else? Rather bold of him, I must say.
[Although. If that Dracula was a weak and cowardly vampire...hm. How awe-inspiring, then, must a proper vampire be?]
Still, he's long gone now, so. I hope you're not too cross about it.
[Unexpectedly charmed by the small gesture, she flashes Alucard an almost shy smile before stepping through into the castle, where it immediately becomes apparent that she really hadn't spent her hours alone frivolously or in vain.
The floor has been swept out, mopped on the stone and vigorously brushed on the carpets; the dust and cobwebs have been knocked down and away from the forest of light bulbs. She even stacked the stone rubble into neat little piles, as though she couldn't quite work out what to do with it, but was determined to make it look tidy anyway. The smell of water and clean soap lingers faintly in the air, where it'd once been stagnant and stuffy.
Just inside the doors, Rosella pauses, turning back to face the entrance so that she can capture Alucard's expression when he first catches sight of her handiwork.]
It's only a start, I know, but — I've still two more days. I'm sure I can do even better than this, in that time.
[Somehow, in the midst of everything that has occurred, he'd almost completely forgotten that Rosella was set to clean the castle. And it shows, truly; even just the entrance has never looked so good, the rugs so plush, and everything so clear of dust. Even the bricks have been set aside in a pile.
Alucard is silent for a moment, startled, then remembers -- oh yes, that had been part of the agreement. How hard she has worked and shown it, and how hard she had worked to keep him alive, sacrificing her own belongings to accomplish that.
He swallows, then shakes his head.]
No... no, you've done fine, Rosella. I've no doubt you will accomplish what you must.
For now, perhaps we should try to refresh ourselves. Tea, perhaps. And I will try to find what I can of Daventry in my father's books. I'd... like to discuss it with you, if that's all right.
...I'd like that. It's been such a night already, I wouldn't mind something...more quiet.
[She steps toward him, like she's about to take his arm again, but then hesitates before shifting her aims in favor of lightly touching her fingers to his sleeve for a moment, instead.]
Where shall we speak? In the kitchen, or in the rooms you gave me? I...know there are only a few places you wish me to go, so I'll follow wherever you like.
Very well. I'll go clean up some, and fix the tea. I can bring it to the library when it's ready.
[Her fingers lightly trace the embroidery along the very edge of his sleeve, the contact almost imperceptible — but there, and fond, and equal parts absentminded and entranced.]
Go softly on that shoulder of yours. I know you said you're able to heal such things on your own, but...still, don't overtax yourself. You were in a bad way, out there in the forest. Give yourself time to recuperate.
[It feels like — something bigger than it is, somehow, the way their fingers brush. To touch, not with any practical purpose in mind, but simply for the sake of the contact shared. It feels like a secret they'll both conceal in haste in a moment when it's over. It's gentle, so light and so fleeting, and impossible to categorize as relief or gratitude or concern.
Sometimes it feels as though Alucard keeps a wall around himself, too high to climb and too thick to break down. This feels like she's finally found a chink in the stone, only enough to reach a fingertip through, and discovered a slender-fingered hand reaching back.
Abruptly, a rosy color rises in her cheeks, and the edge of her lip catches behind her teeth as she slowly brings her hand back to her side with a nod.]
I...I will, thank you.
[As she draws away from him, she takes her first few steps backwards, like she doesn't want to look away from him for just a few more seconds still. Then, once she's a respectable distance, she finally turns and heads off to her designated rooms, navigating the castle with much more ease now than she'd had earlier, now that she's spent all day puttering around in it.
It only takes her one failed try before she manages to get the bath worked out again, and runs the water as hot as she can stand before sinking gratefully down into it and letting the dirt and the tension of their night's adventure in the forest begin to ease out of her knotted muscles and tense limbs.
If Alucard hadn't been close enough to hear her scream —
The chill of that thought goes straight to her bones, and she sinks down almost to her nose in the hot bathwater, huddling until the shivers pass. She wasn't taken. Alucard isn't dying. And they're both back safe in the castle now, and she has to believe that even a wizard would have a difficult time reaching her inside.
When the bathwater finally begins to turn lukewarm, she gets out and dutifully drains the tub, leaving her hair tied up in the messy bun she'd pulled it into to keep it dry while she bathed, and dries off before dressing again. Odd how she doesn't feel quite so resplendent in the lovely gown as she did the first time she'd tried it on, and yet this time it feels more hers, because of it.
One trek down to the kitchens to boil water for tea later, she's off to find Alucard, heading directly for the library this time without disorientation or uncertainty.]
[It's almost hard to watch her go, but Alucard knows it's for the best. He'll keep his wits about him in case she needs him, keep his senses ready.
He has a mind to dress himself in something fresher and new; no blood stains or indication he'd ever been in danger. An effort is made to try to brush his hair, and he succeeds about halfway through before he gets frustrated and gives up for now. Another day, and he will be more presentable.
He remember when he'd cared about that last.
To the library he goes, gathering what he can about Dracula's journals and books.
Daventry is something he cannot forget.
He sits, but this time he is ready for company. Another chair awaits Rosella, and a table as well. The fireplace is lit, and the lights are on, more inviting than the last time they'd been.]
[What a difference such little changes can make — a lit fireplace, the warm glow of lights in their bulbs, a chair facing for company instead of turned away for a dejected lordling to sulk in.
He looks better, freshened up. It's easier to feel good about his health when his clothes aren't damp with blood serving as a reminder of the terrible things that had happened to them.
Smiling softly, Rosella heads inside with her tray, moving to the table and setting it down while she starts to unpack the cups and saucers she'd put together.]
I see you've amassed a whole stack of books. Does that mean you've found something?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
But he listens, arching a brow, turning the words over and over in his head. Gold with topaz for her brother, a necklace for her. Play with her jewelry.]
Rather well off for peasants, aren't you?
[Perhaps earlier in the day, he'd have been livid about being lied to. That he'd have ushered her out immediately, sent her away and never looked back.
But he would not be quick to throw away also what she'd done for him. The relief in her eyes, her kindness, her comfort, even her embrace.]
I'm not angry. Just curious, truthfully.
no subject
[He's promised her before that he wouldn't be angry with her, and he wasn't after she eventually told the whole of the truth. Really, that's all she's done again. Never lied outright, but only omitted things. Kept silent. Changed the subject.]
You did, a number of times, and I never corrected you. I suppose I certainly looked like one, showing up in rags as I did. And I deferred to you as any guest seeking favors ought to, of a host. And I called you sir when I made myself your servant, as a servant ought to.
[She glances at him from beneath half-lowered eyelashes, offering a wobbly smile.]
But if we were headed back to my castle instead of yours, I suppose I might outrank you, truthfully. So — yes, we're rather well off for peasants. But we're just about right, for a royal family.
no subject
[Alucard pauses, pushing some branches aside to let them through as they get closer to the castle.]
To what country need you to return to, my lady?
no subject
[Now she does sidestep a little, just enough to make it a seeming accident when she nudges her elbow against him. Certainly a completely unintentional bump. Not deliberate in the slightest.]
It's called Daventry. On the banks of the Southern Sea? With the Great Mountains to the north. If — if that helps.
no subject
[Though he does look a bit sheepish at being called out so hard. HMMM.]
Daventry. [Alucard looks thoughtful, his brows furrowing.] Daventry... I swear I must have heard of that place before.
Give me time to check the libraries. Perhaps it is a realm I must be reminded of.
no subject
[Prepare yourself, Mike McVampire, your long con is about to get blown wide open.]
That's where Dracula made his home, and you seemed to know of him, so...
no subject
The mention of Dracula makes him sputter before he barks out laughing. He has to stop for a moment, and the sudden amusement turns bitter.]
Oh yes. I know Dracula. I am his son.
Though I could certainly say he'd never made Kolyma his home. Wallachia was his realm, though he could travel wherever he wished.
no subject
[There's skepticism in her tone, it's true, but it doesn't seem to be directed at Alucard's assertion that he's the son of Dracula. If anything, it's more of sideways agreement that the Dracula of Kolyma is very, very decidedly not his father.]
I'm afraid I don't know much about it. Just the story I was told, it was all before I was born. And I don't know how long he might've been there before my father met him. But I remember he said...there were ghosts guarding his castle, and a ferryman to take him across the sickly moat, and poison brambles all about the path? And Dracula himself wore a black cloak...oh! And a ruby ring! Big enough to have initials engraved in it, "C-D".
[She casts him a sheepish look.]
I...suppose that doesn't sound like your father at all?
no subject
[Alucard says it wryly, but he doesn't scold Rosella for believing such stories. He's heard several ridiculous tales about Dracula, and so many of them have been far from the truth. This one is at least has some basis, just for the wrong reasons.]
This does remind me something that Dracula used to complain about, actually.
[Which is good timing; they finally make it through the woods and into the clearing with both the castle and the sealed Belmont Hold.
Ghosts guarding the castle. Alucard pauses, glancing at the skeletal remains of his betrayers, but instead focuses on the castle itself.]
There was a vampire in my father's court, eager for power but too cowardly and weak to do anything for himself, at least in comparison to others. It is said, actually, that he found a way into another realm to establish himself: Kolyma. It would be there that no one else could challenge him, the lone vampire that could rule over humans without much to fear. And why not use the famed Dracula's name to boast himself?
That wasn't his name, of course. And Father was furious about it to the point it was almost comical.
no subject
Ah, yes. Home sweet home.
Well, it's still worlds better than a date with the blue meanie, regardless.]
Really! He had no luck in these circumstances, so he had to scurry off to try his hand in different ones somewhere else? Rather bold of him, I must say.
[Although. If that Dracula was a weak and cowardly vampire...hm. How awe-inspiring, then, must a proper vampire be?]
Still, he's long gone now, so. I hope you're not too cross about it.
no subject
[He pauses, then holds the very giant door open for Rosella. Less as a cruel captor, more as a gentleman, despite their current state of affairs.]
And I am not very close with other vampires.
[Or anyone.]
no subject
The floor has been swept out, mopped on the stone and vigorously brushed on the carpets; the dust and cobwebs have been knocked down and away from the forest of light bulbs. She even stacked the stone rubble into neat little piles, as though she couldn't quite work out what to do with it, but was determined to make it look tidy anyway. The smell of water and clean soap lingers faintly in the air, where it'd once been stagnant and stuffy.
Just inside the doors, Rosella pauses, turning back to face the entrance so that she can capture Alucard's expression when he first catches sight of her handiwork.]
It's only a start, I know, but — I've still two more days. I'm sure I can do even better than this, in that time.
no subject
Alucard is silent for a moment, startled, then remembers -- oh yes, that had been part of the agreement. How hard she has worked and shown it, and how hard she had worked to keep him alive, sacrificing her own belongings to accomplish that.
He swallows, then shakes his head.]
No... no, you've done fine, Rosella. I've no doubt you will accomplish what you must.
For now, perhaps we should try to refresh ourselves. Tea, perhaps. And I will try to find what I can of Daventry in my father's books. I'd... like to discuss it with you, if that's all right.
no subject
[She steps toward him, like she's about to take his arm again, but then hesitates before shifting her aims in favor of lightly touching her fingers to his sleeve for a moment, instead.]
Where shall we speak? In the kitchen, or in the rooms you gave me? I...know there are only a few places you wish me to go, so I'll follow wherever you like.
no subject
No. That's terrible. But he doesn't pull away; he wants to let her know she's safe.]
The library has a table and chairs. It'll give me space to research, if you are amendable to that.
no subject
[Her fingers lightly trace the embroidery along the very edge of his sleeve, the contact almost imperceptible — but there, and fond, and equal parts absentminded and entranced.]
Go softly on that shoulder of yours. I know you said you're able to heal such things on your own, but...still, don't overtax yourself. You were in a bad way, out there in the forest. Give yourself time to recuperate.
no subject
I will be fine. ...But if it eases your mind, I will be careful with myself.
Take your time to join me, Rosella. It's been quite a night for the both of us.
no subject
Sometimes it feels as though Alucard keeps a wall around himself, too high to climb and too thick to break down. This feels like she's finally found a chink in the stone, only enough to reach a fingertip through, and discovered a slender-fingered hand reaching back.
Abruptly, a rosy color rises in her cheeks, and the edge of her lip catches behind her teeth as she slowly brings her hand back to her side with a nod.]
I...I will, thank you.
[As she draws away from him, she takes her first few steps backwards, like she doesn't want to look away from him for just a few more seconds still. Then, once she's a respectable distance, she finally turns and heads off to her designated rooms, navigating the castle with much more ease now than she'd had earlier, now that she's spent all day puttering around in it.
It only takes her one failed try before she manages to get the bath worked out again, and runs the water as hot as she can stand before sinking gratefully down into it and letting the dirt and the tension of their night's adventure in the forest begin to ease out of her knotted muscles and tense limbs.
If Alucard hadn't been close enough to hear her scream —
The chill of that thought goes straight to her bones, and she sinks down almost to her nose in the hot bathwater, huddling until the shivers pass. She wasn't taken. Alucard isn't dying. And they're both back safe in the castle now, and she has to believe that even a wizard would have a difficult time reaching her inside.
When the bathwater finally begins to turn lukewarm, she gets out and dutifully drains the tub, leaving her hair tied up in the messy bun she'd pulled it into to keep it dry while she bathed, and dries off before dressing again. Odd how she doesn't feel quite so resplendent in the lovely gown as she did the first time she'd tried it on, and yet this time it feels more hers, because of it.
One trek down to the kitchens to boil water for tea later, she's off to find Alucard, heading directly for the library this time without disorientation or uncertainty.]
no subject
He has a mind to dress himself in something fresher and new; no blood stains or indication he'd ever been in danger. An effort is made to try to brush his hair, and he succeeds about halfway through before he gets frustrated and gives up for now. Another day, and he will be more presentable.
He remember when he'd cared about that last.
To the library he goes, gathering what he can about Dracula's journals and books.
Daventry is something he cannot forget.
He sits, but this time he is ready for company. Another chair awaits Rosella, and a table as well. The fireplace is lit, and the lights are on, more inviting than the last time they'd been.]
no subject
[What a difference such little changes can make — a lit fireplace, the warm glow of lights in their bulbs, a chair facing for company instead of turned away for a dejected lordling to sulk in.
He looks better, freshened up. It's easier to feel good about his health when his clothes aren't damp with blood serving as a reminder of the terrible things that had happened to them.
Smiling softly, Rosella heads inside with her tray, moving to the table and setting it down while she starts to unpack the cups and saucers she'd put together.]
I see you've amassed a whole stack of books. Does that mean you've found something?