[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
[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?