Note: I was deeply dissatisfied with how Penny Dreadful ended so this is my take on the series finale. Vanessa/Catriona because they are perfect for each other. I apologise for eventual mistakes. Reviews are always appreciated :).
Hurried footsteps echoed on the cobblestones as passersby with snow-peppered black coats hurried in the streets without throwing so much as a glance to their surroundings, their eyes fixed on the street before them dimly illuminated by lampposts, or on their ticking pocket watches. Their faces were stained red with the cold, their noses running discretely as the frozen December air aggressed them, condensing their breath in puffs of smoky vapor.
A horse carriage trotted past, the animals' hooves hammering on the stone and breaking the otherwise perfect silence of the night, then faded into the distance until everything was quiet again. Catriona Hartdegen couldn't help but despise the automatism of the people around her, the mechanical absentmindedness with which they went about their business like oversized puppets. There was no clarity in their actions, no awareness nor discipline.
She strolled leisurely down the road, her hands deep in her coat's pockets to shield them form the bitter cold and eyes alert, picking up the smallest details around her with experienced precision. The snow fell quietly forming a blurred curtain around her but she enjoyed it, uncaring of the frozen flakes that found their escape down her collar.
She reached a large candid building and stood looking at the stark, metal door staring down at her. She knocked.
The door was opened to reveal with teasing slowness a bearded face, adorned with poignant eyes and the sternness of a man having known the deepest of pains. Sir Malcom Murray's lips curled in a smile when he recognized her, and stood to a side to welcome her into his home.
"Miss Hartdegen. We were waiting for you, do come in"
he said warmly in his deep, measured tone.
"Sir Malcom."
She greeted him in reply, stepping into the grand house and facing the impressive, elegant central staircase, upon whose wall hung the preserved head of a lion, a trophy of a hunting trip, no doubt, from Sir Malcom's days in Africa.
"Miss Hartdegen. I'm glad you could make it."
A sultry, glass-cut voice rang out at the top of the stairs and echoed softly in the hall as light footsteps collided with the wooden stairs, revealing the otherworldly beauty of Vanessa Ives. Ocean-blue eyes set on Catriona's warm hazelnut ones and burned deep with a multitude of unspoken words.
"It would be rude to miss such a reunion Miss Ives."
A distance was kept between the two women and Catriona's trained eyes couldn't help but take in the sophisticated elegance of the woman's dress, with its midnight blue taint, delicate lace patterns and the generous expense of pale, unblemished cleavage it left exposed. Vanessa smiled, ruby red lips sharp against perfect white teeth, then gestured towards the living room.
"Please do take a seat and join us. Mr. Chandler, Sir Malcom and Doctor Frankenstein were discussing their latest adventures I believe."
She added with the hint of an amused chuckle playing on her lips, tugging at their corners.
"Ha yes, the famous travels to Africa no doubt, or am I mistaken gentleman?"
"I believe you are quite correct Miss Hartdegen."
"I presume you wished to spend time away form the creatures of the night after the recent events, did you not? Speaking of which, may I enquire as to how your wound is progressing Sir Malcom?"
for a moment, the men seemed speechless, then the patriarch smiled.
"I believe it is healing nicely, thanks to your prompt intervention I must say."
The woman smiled with evident satisfaction and casted a furtive glance at Vanessa, who leaned against the doorframe with an amused glint shining in her pale orbs. Before long, they sat at the dinner table, initiating the meal. Dinner was surprisingly joyful, characterized by full hearted chuckles on behalf of even the dear Doctor Frankenstein, who was normally rather serious in his mannerisms and dark in his humor. They discussed topics that beheld no depth chatting about the latest news of Sir Malcom's trip to Africa, not that Catriona cared, in fact she held strong opinions in regards to the exploration of the Black continent but she deemed it unpleasant on her behalf to let them be known to Sir Malcom. As she ran her gaze along the table she couldn't help but think that they truly were a company of misfits, an unlikely patchwork of unusual lives brought together by some twisted desire of fate. There was Sir Malcom, with his cruelty and selfishness masked by his joviality and his care for Vanessa; a man who had lost his wife and children at hos own hands and still mourned the loss yet carried on with life. At his right stood Ethan Chandler, pragmatic and mysterious with the faintest hint of arrogance; a renegade exiled from his homeland, tormented by his crimes and his underlying affection for Vanessa Ives. Next to him sat Victor Frankenstein, a drug addict skilled with scalpels she failed to understand; an enigmatic young man that demonstrated surprising naivety and an even more dramatic clumsiness. In front of Catriona at Dr. Seward, a stern serious woman perpetually analyzing every aspect of her comrades' psychology; a killer ready to put her life at risk for a greater good. And then there was Vanessa Ives. The most inexplicable of enigmas, an iron will encased in a fragile body of formidable beauty; a sharp intellect and unwavering faith tormented by entities far beyond death itself. Catriona was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
The company split hours later, when dinner was long finished and drinks had brightened their eyes. Victor Frankenstein retuned to his home, Dr. Seward to her study and Catriona was preparing to bid the remaining trio farewell when Vanessa Ives spoke out in her composed, clipped voice.
"Miss Hartdegen, would it be terribly improper for me to ask you to stay? I have important matters I wish to discuss for you. You may use the guest room if you wish…"
Catriona looked at the woman whose clear gaze betrayed no emotion nor clue as to the theme of their discussions to be.
"It would be improper. Lucky for you, I am not one to care for appropriateness."
She smiled.
"Very well. Follow me if you please. Gentlemen, would you be so kind as to take care of the dishes?"
Catriona followed Vanessa upstairs, in her minimalistic room adorned with nothing but a bed, a cross and a writing desk. She was gestured to sit on a chair and obeyed.
"I am sure you have seen the sings yourself Catriona. Dracula has made his return, lurking in the darkness no doubt, but back nonetheless."
There was pain in her voice as the dreadful words brought back sharp memories, flinging them at her very soul and causing an unbearable agony and Catriona reached out for a cold, pale hand, taking it into her own and pressing soft lips against the smooth skin before replying.
"But this time you are prepared. You know his strategies Vanessa, every trick, every ruse… and you are no longer alone. You have Sir Malcom and Mr. Chandler; you have Dr. Seward…you have me."
The last words were spoken softly against Vanessa's hand as another kiss came to brush it, but the brunette's eyes betrayed a deep anguish.
"And if I were to surrender once more? If darkness was to return?"
"Darkness will not return. We will cheat Dracula together you and I"
The determination in her tone left little room for objections and her eyes burned with a protective gleam. She hadn't ripped away Vanessa Ives from Dracula's hands only to have her yanked away again, no… Vanessa was hers to keep, hers to protect for the men in the household had failed in their intent the first time. She stood up and cupped Vanessa's face in her hands, brushing her thumbs against perfectly structured cheekbones only to then trail them down to a beautifully chiseled jawline. She looked at the brunette woman for a moment, gauging out the raw emotions she displayed, then pressed her own lips to soft red ones that tasted of sweet wine. It was nothing more than a chaste peck but when they pulled apart both knew it sealed a silent promise.
"When he comes for you Vanessa, we will be ready to meet him. We will cheat him every chance we get and bring him to his downfall."
She whispered pressing her forehead against Vanessa.
"You will not leave me?"
"I will not leave you."
They were separated by heavy footsteps echoing in the corridor. Their proximity to Vanessa's room indicated they belonged to Ethan Chandler and Catriona composed herself.
"I do believe I have to go"
she stated, Vanessa nodded softly.
"Yes, you are quite right Miss Hartdegen. But please, it is late, do stay the night."
She added, opening the door and finding Ethan preparing to enter his room. Catriona stepped out into the corridor.
"With pleasure Miss Ives."
"I will lead you there, please follow me"
she led the way to the guest room, opening the door for Catriona to enter. It was a richly decorate room with a comfortable-looking bed.
"Thank you Miss Ives."
"Don't hesitate to call me if you need something. Good night"
"Good night"
"Vanessa... are you all right?
Ethan Chandler's voice held a distinct note of worry and his dark eyes looked at her with concern as his hands came to hold her shoulders softly. He had intercepted her as she came back to her room.
"Yes Mr. Chandler, I am quite all right."
She answered softly. There was love in his eyes too and for the first time in the years she had known him, she wished the love he demonstrated would subside. She had loved him in the past, she truly had, but his betrayal burned and Catriona had come to fill the gaping hole he had torn into her soul. She had been there for her when he hadn't. Not that she blamed the Lupus Dei. She understood and she cared for him deeply still, but her feelings no longer ran as deep as love.
"Vanessa…"
he breathed out almost reproachfully. He knew how to read her, tell the truth from the lies and when his fingers came to brush a lock of hair away form her face she knew he was trying to make up for everything he had missed out on in the past.
"Mr. Chandler, please."
She took a step back, hugging herself and leaving the man dumbstruck, looking at her without understanding where he could have gone wrong. She sighed, knowing all too well the conversation she had to pursue but hoping it could have come later.
"Mr. Chandler, the destiny of every individual is ever changing. Tarot cards can predict one's role as you well know, but can be interpreted in multiple ways."
She looked ta him hoping he would understand and saw him swallow as the realization of where the conversation was going hit him.
"Our lives have been intertwined Mr. Chandler and I won't deny I have loved you. You are an exceptionally kind man and there are few like you on this earth. But things change."
She paused, looking at him with a mixture of pain and tenderness.
"Vanessa…I made it my purpose to protect you. I am not going back on my word now."
"That I know."
He remained quiet for a moment, then nodded softly.
"May I ask why Miss Ives? Why this change?"
she smiled sadly.
"I am afraid Mr. Chandler, I cannot let you know that and I do ask you not to enquire further. Good night."
She left with her heart heavy and tears pricking her eyes, for she did care about Ethan Chandler deeply and leaving what had been her dream for years was a painful task. She sought the safety of her own room, closing the door behind her to prepare herself for bed before kneeling on the wooden floor facing the cross that had been hung back on the wall. She joined her hands and closed her eyes, murmuring her Latin prayers softly but with the same certainty she had in the past, before her faith wavered, before she succumbed to the dark and casted the world into the shadows. Her relationship with the almighty was a complex one, when she had needed him the most he had failed to answer her; someone else had, a force much darker and dangerous that would torment her for the better part of her life. And yet she still believed in God, believed in his justice and love even when she felt unworthy of it. Then she went to bed, abandoning herself to a dreamless sleep.
Something warm and slick slid down her neck and ventured down her collarbone, sliding down the hard ridge of her sternum between her breasts and further down to her side, ending its trail on immaculate bed sheets. Cold, pale hands trailed along her jaw and a warm breath hung close to her face. It wasn't until the sharp pinprick of pointed teeth met her skin that Vanessa was cast awake. She stood up and toppled whoever, or whatever had been there, making it land on the floor with a dull thud. A rabbit lied next to her, its eyes pale, neck torn out with a gush of warm, sticky blood oozing out of the wound. Vanessa fought back the urge to vomit and turned to the creature who had been there without seeing it. She scanned the room without noticing anything. The window hung open and the cold December wind howled softly in the room, causing the curtains to flow in the air like lost ghostly shapes. Whatever it was, it had gone away. A shiver of fear ran down her back as she flung herself out her bed and down the corridor. She acted on instinct ignoring Ethan Chandler and Sir Malcom's rooms and heading towards the guest's room, knocking softly but not waiting for an answer. She suddenly felt foolish standing on the doorstep in her bloodstained nightgown but it was too late to go back.
Catriona sat up in bed as soon as she heard the knocks and her heart skipped beat when she saw Vanessa looking like a ghastly vision with the blood staining her clothes and skin and the wide-eyed gaze of someone mad with terror.
"What happened?"
"He came."
Catriona frowned, then approached carefully, brushing Vanessa's hair to a side to bare the small puncture marks on her pale neck. The teeth hadn't had time to sink in fully but had left concentric wounds nonetheless.
"Our friend the Dragon himself? That is unlike him. No, it must have been one of his semi-human familiars. He is a tactician above all and isn't likely to engage in a frontal assault."
She poured some wine on a cloth and pressed it against the wound, hearing Vanessa's sharp hiss of pain when the alcohol cam in contact with the lesion.
"Renfield?"
"Most likely. He is the chosen one after all and is bound to have privileges over other familiars."
She finished cleaning the wound and pulled back to look at the woman standing before her.
"May I stay here tonight?"
her voice was unsure, similar to a shy child's.
"Naturally. Although I would recommend changing into clean clothing, if memory serves me well there are few things more unpleasant than the feeling of dried blood, not to mention it could bring the creature back."
She obeyed, retrieving a clean item of clothing from the storage cabinet in the room.
There was an uneasy silence as Catriona lied her in bed, not unlike a mother would a sick child, then joined her under the quilt. The steady rhythm of Vanessa's breathing filled the silent room and Catriona brushed her gaze over the soft curve of the woman's shoulder, the dip of her hipbone, the dark mass of black hair resting on the pillow like spilled ink on parchment. There was a soft, nearly invisible shaking to Vanessa's fragile frame that Catriona noticed without hesitation and compelled the red head woman to place a reassuring hand on the daywalker's back to feel the heat seeping through the nightgown and a hard, rough patch blemishing the otherwise smooth plane of muscle and bone. Her eyebrows furrowed in the dark at the discovery and with uttermost care, she traced the outline of the mark, acquiring the well defined shape it had with curiosity and disgust blending in her mind. She felt Vanessa tense, as if her instinct pushed her to flee the contact but she forced it upon herself to stay still, and heard her breath hitch as it did when fearful.
"Vanessa? What happened to you?"
she asked softly.
"It is a long story."
"I have time."
Vanessa swallowed and turned around to face Catriona, whose intelligent eyes were now looking at her filled with comprehension and most exceptionally…love.
"I knew a woman once. Joan Clayton was her name, who took me under her wing when I had nowhere else to go. She taught me the ways of the daywalkers and a number of other skills useful not only to us able to communicate with the demimonde, but to every man walking this earth. The cut-wife of Ballentree Moor was what they called her in the village, women would visit her to have their babies cut from them and she helped them all, at a price naturally but helped them nonetheless. But others brooded over her talents, accused her of being a witch and when the time came…."
A tear slid down her cheek and was brushed away by Catriona's thumb, that lingered on her cheekbone, stroking soft skin in an attempt to comfort her.
"When the time was right they came for her. For us. They tied her to the tree in front of the hut and covered her in oil, then burned her. She did nothing to stop them and when her body was a torch, they heated a metal cross on it."
The rets of the story failed to come out. It hurt to narrate and tore open old wounds but Catriona, who was now pulling her impossibly close, needed to know the truth. Deserved to know the truth.
"They branded me. And made me watch as she burned, until there was nothing left at all."
She was crying now, long sobs tearing through her chest as she hid her face against Catriona's shoulder and relished in the warm touch traveling on her back to soothe her.
"I'm sorry Vanessa. For everything. For asking you to tell me."
Vanessa didn't answer. Long fingers clung to Catriona, keeping her close as if she were scared the thanatologist could leave her. Harsh sobs tore the silence of the room as warm tears came to drench the red haired woman's nightgown. She felt the compelling need to hold Vanessa and never let her go. She felt so small, so fragile into her arms… no creature so frail should be weighted down by a destiny as tortured as the one Vanessa had to endure, surely God must know that. God…What God? What God would allow Vanessa to suffer so thoroughly? She who had maintained her faith through unbearable pain and evil-induced illnesses, she who had repudiated and defeated the Devil himself to reach her God's light.
Catriona placed a tender, heartbroken kiss on Vanessa's hair, allowing herself to liger against the soft silk of her hair and indulge in the intoxicating perfume they emanated whilst running a delicate hand along her back, stroking the branded cross lovingly as if wishing to chase the pain it had caused away.
"I won't let you suffer again Vanessa. They won't harm you. I won't allow it."
She whispered as the sobs lost momentum and quietened down. Vanessa remained quiet, her chest heaving with dying sobs and eyes still shining with freshly shed tears. After the crying ceased they remained still, fitting in each other's embrace like pieces of a puzzle and for a moment Catriona thought her friend had fallen asleep, then a whisper so quiet she wouldn't have heard it if she hadn't been so close to the woman, indicated otherwise.
"Catriona? I think…I think I may have fallen in love with you."
It was a delicate confession, almost shy in its admission.
"You must think me foolish."
Added the daywalker. Catriona smiled against the woman's neck and pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear.
"We both are foolish Vanessa. I believe I love you too, my dear Miss Ives."
It was Vanessa's turn to smile.