Twilight Is Not Good For Maidens

by Thyme In Her Eyes – ariadne@btopenworld.com

Author's Note: Well, I saw the film "Bram Stoker's Dracula" again last night, and (yet again) it inspired me to write a Vlad/Mina fanfic. I know that some people out there must be sick and tired of this, seeing as that's all I seem to write in the Dracula fandom. Well, it can't be helped. I love these two characters together so much and the film was so beautiful and moving, I can't help but be inspired by it. Also, I hope this encourages other people to write Vlad/Mina – such a lovely pairing! Write, people, write! This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter in this genre, so please be kind. Now, on to the finer details: it's set halfway through the film (though the prologue is set at a later point), when the Count first arrives in England and it spans the development of their relationship, from their first chance encounter to how they came to meet each other in secret. Now, a disclaimer stating that Bram Stoker owns Dracula and Mina whilst Francis Ford Coppola owns the versions of them presented in the film (lucky sod). Also, the title was taken from a line in Christina Rossetti's poem "Goblin Market". Anyway, on with the story – enjoy and please do review and give me any feedback!

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TWILIGHT IS NOT GOOD FOR MAIDENS

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Prologue: London, 17 September, 1897

Mina Harker walked forwards, her eyes were veiled with shadows. Night was falling swiftly, silently and evening fog settled stealthily, almost as if watching her.

She approached the crypt with caution. With uncharacteristically hesitant steps she skirted across the undergrowth towards it, her heart weighed down by bleak, sombre thoughts, as dark as her mourning-dress. A part of her did not want to venture anywhere near it, anywhere near the dead, and yet another fragment of her needed to see it, needed to visit. Long ago, she had trusted her instincts, but now they were at war against one another and discerning which thoughts were heroic and which were monstrous was a laborious task.

Dew, silence and evening mist laced the area around her. A lazy night breeze caught a stray stand of her black hair, before she adjusted it, attempting to look more proper. She glanced around her, her dark eyes as wide as innocence.

Lucy's tomb loomed up ahead of her. Having newly arrived back from Transylvania after her rushed marriage after hearing news of Lucy's terrible and unfair passing from the world she loved so well, Mina's first prerogative was to visit her beloved friend's grave. Afterwards, she, Jonathan and their companions would discuss means of combating the Lucy that would rise from the grave and the unspeakable force that had robbed Lucy of her precious life. Mina planned to devote herself to this cause, to use all the powers of her intellect into aiding her friends as much as she could, for the sake of Lucy, Jonathan and her country. Whatever demon or fiend that had murdered her dear friend and had trapped Jonathan in that nightmarish castle, she knew that such evil could not be allowed to flourish. Such determination, however tainted with sorrow, made her feel brave.

Again, the force of the knowledge that Lucy was truly dead struck her viciously. In her heart, she was stilled shocked, shaken to the core. She could not believe it. She couldn't imagine Lucy – warm, funny, brave, radiant Lucy! – as dead. Throughout Lucy's illness, Mina had always believed, despite having no illusions of how bleak and hopeless it seemed, that somehow Lucy would survive and recover. To think of Lucy, who had been so full of life and so loved life, as being dead seemed impossible. Her best friend, her childhood companion, the one who built castles in the sky with her, keeper of all her girlish secrets – gone.

She felt grim thoughts gather within her heart. She had believed once – perhaps in arrogance, she reminded herself – that she was stronger than this. And yet, all she felt was weariness.

Jonathan was waiting for her. He smiled at her, his shy, self-doubting smile, and it warmed her. For the hundredth time, she was grateful to God for keeping him safe. Her lips curved upwards in a false smile, restrained by her sadness, her secrets. She wished that her smiles could be a little more sincere, a little more affectionate, a little more ready, a little more from the heart.

He had endured so much, and was so ill. He deserved better, she was sure. All she had to do was look at the sad streaks of grey threaded through his once-lovely brown hair, look at how pale and sallow his skin had become, look at all the troubles contained in his eyes and her heart would lurch with remorse. He had so far remained stalwart in the face of such consuming blackness – she had to be a pillar of strength for him, if ever he needed her. She simply wanted to be useful, helpful to her loved ones.

She resolved to herself to make more of an effort to support Jonathan through such dark days, but she felt the darkness closing in over her more and more – and there was no-one to support her, or that even saw that she needed help. A shadow had passed over her heart and remained there, shielding it from all brightness. She had felt a light go out in her life and now felt lost and confused, knowing there was no way to turn back.

She didn't want Jonathan to see that part of her, the part of her that suffered. She was sometimes certain that he could see through her mask of the good, supportive and dutiful wife, and that he could see the part of her soul she had exposed to only one man. To think that he saw that felt like a violation. Worse yet, sometimes she was sure that he knew her secret, that wile she was supposed to be dreadfully worried about Jonathan, she had in fact been feasting on new emotions awakened in her by someone else.

Of course, she dismissed the idea as ridiculous – she knew that Jonathan would never know what had taken place while he was away. It didn't even matter, she reassured herself – It is all over between my prince and I now; we shall never again see one another. And of course, it was not as if anything had happened. All they shared was conversation, all she enjoyed of him was his company. And that was what he was: a companion. Nothing more. She was certain that she could never feel anything romantic for a man other than Jonathan, after all, she was not that kind of woman. She had been drawn to him by some similarity in their characters, some hidden affinity, for she had felt his loneliness mirror her own, the quiet loneliness she had always felt in her soul, as long as she could remember.

Secretly, she still thought of him. He was always in her mind. She tried to think nothing of it. He had been a dear friend and a comfort to her, but her heart had always been with Jonathan and always would be. That was how it had to be.

But why did she feel such guilt when she thought of their time together? Why did her heart still ache, knowing that she would never see him again? Why did she still feel sorrow's sting when she thought about how her abandonment must have hurt him? Why was he always in her thoughts?

She could not understand. She searched, fumbling through her sharp mind for her true self, but could not find it. She felt torn. She did not think it within her nature, within the heart of good, sweet Mina, for such conflict to dwell. She had thought marriage to be a sure remedy for such an illness of the mind, such confusion of the senses.

She was most perplexed and confused by her own feelings, the world seemed to be spinning without her, moving far too quickly for her to keep up with, leaving her behind, lost in a thick sea of thoughts, feelings and memories. She was never so lost, never so astray and she longed to be herself once more – to be a sensible, or at the very least, a consistent woman. But she was changed. She felt a part of her that she never even knew existed awaken and stir.

Her face looked older than its twenty years, etched with shadows, reflecting the dark thoughts in her heart. She approached Jonathan and gave him a sweet, sad smile, one that reflected the conflict in her heart and her grief over Lucy. Nonetheless, she made a gallant effort to appear hopeful, to push grief for Lucy and her conflict over Prince Vlad out of her mind.

Jonathan said nothing, clearly lost in his own thoughts. Mina ventured nothing aloud, but guessed at his thoughts all the same. He only displayed such haunted looks when he thought of the horrors he had endured and escaped. Mina supposed that he was thinking about the triad of demonic women, the three devils that had entrapped and tormented him whilst he was imprisoned in the cursed castle. Mina also guessed that he was thinking about Lucy – about bright, dear, irrepressible Lucy becoming like those evil monsters. His face, normally so stoic, was clouded by a vague, confused look of disgust, horror and dread.

Jonathan's fears woke her from her reverie. How could she be sunk in misery when she suffered nothing the way he had? And of course, she was alive and breathing, unlike poor, dear Lucy, she reminded herself. It was enough to shake her out of her, petty, grim thoughts.

How unlike me to be melancholy, she thought to herself. True, though she had always carried a secret sadness in her heart, she was not one to easily let despair get the better of her. But she felt so lost, so alone, so cold.

She was at his side now, gazing upon the crypt in which Lucy's body lay. Timidly, carefully, she offered a hand to Jonathan, which he accepted. Mina gazed at the crypt, thinking of her lost friend and wished that she could cry. The weight of a thousand tiny grievances finally caught up with her and thinking of Lucy, of Jonathan, of her life as it was, and especially thinking of her sweet Prince, everything seemed too much to bear. She was familiar with this kind of grief, but it still disarmed her. She felt tears press, and abruptly, roughly brushed them away from her eyes.

Jonathan looked at her, as if he expected her to say something.

Mina spoke, her voice slightly husky and strained. "May God be with her."

"She will hear your prayers." Said Jonathan, though the words sounded wooden. Though he tried his best, he clearly had no idea what to say, or how to comfort Mina in her grief. Sometimes there were no words for such things, no lessons in which one can learn how to cope with such events.

A dark, abysmal pause filled the air, tainting it. Mina looked down at the ground, her heart still bleeding with mourning. She missed Lucy terribly and felt a heavy, corroding sense of guilt. She had left Lucy, believing it to be the right thing, and that very night, Lucy had died, and died a most horrific, ghastly death. She felt as though the best, brightest part of her had been torn from her, without warning or compassion. She longed for Vlad. She felt that she should not have such a privilege, after all, she had made her choices, but she could not draw her thoughts away from him. Back to her prince they always crept. For a fleeting, beautiful moment, all her frail, false defences failed her and she imagined what it would be like, just to be held in his arms, warm and safe once more. Her mind floated back to happier times as she remembered their conversations, his words to her, and those precious moments when it seemed as though he fully saw all that she was and understood her, even more than she understood herself. When she thought of her prince, she felt happy. She did not feel so alone. She suddenly, fiercely wished that she had revealed such true feelings to him. A secretive whisper of knowledge told her that he would have cherished such words.

She spoke again, her voice untethered and lonely, lost and searching. "I feel like a stranger. All that I know could be gone in an instant."

Her own honesty surprised her. For the first time since her wedding, she had spoken her heart truly. And, she realised with a great sense of fear and unease, in truth her heart was troubled. She was afraid that she had made a mistake.

"Mina..." Jonathan said, confused and imploring awkwardly. "Listen: you are young, you are strong. You will not feel this way forever. We have our whole lives before us."

He reached up for her face, touching it gently, shyly, and yet with far too much confidence, attempting to console her with a caress. She pulled away, weakly shifting her face away from him.

"How do you know that?" She asked suddenly, her eyes wide and vulnerable. She blinked back tears.

He had no answer and so the two fell into silence once. He thought of words of comfort, of how Lucy was supping with the righteous as they wept on earth without her. He did not guess that her sorrow ran deeper than her grief. He did see that she was distant, but could not see that she was changed. In his mind, she was the same serious, sweet, pious, intelligent girl he had left several months ago. Of course, she was still serious, she was still sweet, she was still pious, and she was still intelligent. But he could not see that she had changed, too.

He spoke haltingly. "What would you have me do?"

She only wanted to be left alone, to think. She shook her head and clasped her hands together over her heart. "Leave me to my solitude."

"Mina...why? Why are you so distant? Mina, we must find peace again."

"I know, I know. Forgive me Jonathan, I am weary – that's all that troubles me."

"Are you well?"

She looked at him, and gave him the look she gave him months ago, when he first told her that he would be travelling abroad. She gave him a brave, restrained smile.

"Of course." She answered.

He could not feel her slipping away from him. He did not realise that this was his last chance to win her heart, to keep her love. His last chance to retain first place in Mina's heart was slipping through his hands, completely unnoticed by him.

Mina softly spoke a prayer. It did not console her very much. In fact, it only distanced her. She felt suddenly sad, she felt all alone with only her prayers to comfort her. It slowly dawned on her that she felt as if, somehow, time was running out for her, that it was moving away without her. She wanted to say more, she wanted to speak up, to say something. But she was quite unable. She didn't know what to say, or where to begin. Sometimes she felt as though if she kept silent, she would simply die, other times she couldn't think of a word to say. He seemed so far away! She was saddened, knowing this to be a bad beginning for newlyweds, if they were already having difficulties communicating.

She seemed so far away herself, as though a veil of mist had shrouded her, separating her from everyone else of this world. She had dreams; dreams of ancient memories, of another world, of another life, of another love, of another her. Sometimes those inescapable memories – memories that couldn't possibly be hers! – seemed for clear and more precise than the real world. The feeling of belonging somewhere else, with someone else, was overwhelming. A whole new part of her soul was stirring inside her and she couldn't stop it – she couldn't stop remembering. Thoughts, feelings, emotions, words – they made no sense, but they were hers. Somewhere, Vlad belonged in the eternal flow of these memories, but where, she did not know. All she knew was that she remembered him...she remembered his face...there was something so familiar, almost intimately so about their connection. She couldn't shake it off, she still felt as if she knew his face.

She was constantly searching for her true self, but she only felt more lost, cast adrift. She yearned for her prince, for whenever he was there, the onslaught of strange, powerful memories, such dreamy newness of spirit, didn't frighten or confuse her. All her psyche tossed and spun around her, but he was always her one point of safety, security and stillness. Though the waves of the past thrashed and roared around them, with him, she felt calm, safe, warm and alive. She had been revived in his shadows. Instead, it felt natural. She felt as though she had found where she belonged. She closed her eyes languidly for a moment and breathed in the sweetness of the recollection.

At the present moment, she did not feel as though she belonged. It did not feel at all natural. All she felt was incomplete. She felt lost and defeated, drowning in conflict and confusion, empty at the core. The shadows that clustered around her now, did not breathe dark life into her, but instead snatched at her light, like dogs fighting over a scrap of meat. When before, stillness had brought peace, it now brought heaviness, weariness and despair. It was the kind of stillness that tempted ladies to look into the chill midnight depths of waters, and find solace there.

When she was with Vlad, she realised, her memories were substantial, breathing and radiating – they had warmed her. Now, they were just memories and they were all she could hold on to.

"Mina?" Jonathan's voice quietly penetrated the darkness of her reverie.

She looked at him, her eyes brimming with loss and affection. She recalled the night of their wedding, the night Lucy had died. She remembered how that night she had watched him as he lay sleeping, his body gripped by exhaustion and illness, but not by dreams. She remembered how she didn't feel overcome by love and happiness on what should have been the happiest night of her life, she only felt stranded. She had been so lost in all of someone else. But she had made her choice, the choice she always knew she would make. She had fled from one who possessed her soul and flung herself into a new life, the life she had always expected to have. She heard Jonathan speak good words about Lucy and she smiled to hear them, but Jonathan, whom she had always believed she loved, seemed like a stranger. She felt like the only person on earth, completely alone.

A bitter tear slid down her cheek. She made no move to brush it away, only struggling from breaking down and fully weeping.

"Oh, Mina..." Jonathan said gently.

She looked up at him. He was a good man, she knew. She longed for him to repair whatever defect existed in her soul. She yearned to be able to love him with the ignorance of her younger days.

"Oh Jonathan, I'm sorry..." she whispered.

She took his hand in her own and squeezed it tightly. He looked down on her with adoring, besotted eyes, unable to translate or comprehend the emotions that flowed out of his wife's eyes. Her hands were cold, he realised. Her skin was so cold. It must have been the night air chilling her, he thought as she saw her tremble. She looked so cold and as though a she longed for was to be warmed. She smiled at him, grateful for his company, his love, despite how empty and guilty such love made her feel. She tried and strained, wanting to will herself into return that feeling as fully as she once had.

"Would you like to left alone for a moment? To say your goodbyes?" He asked stiffly.

Perhaps she needed to 'speak' to Lucy one more time, then she would be her old self once more. He did not like to leave her alone – he knew that she was independent enough to take care of herself, but he was uneasy about doing such a thing with night approaching so quickly. He shuddered. It would be irresponsible of him to leave her where evil could find her.

"We do not have long," she answered numbly, "we are to meet Van Helsing soon. Nightfall is nearing, Jonathan. But thank you."

Together they walked, arm in arm, as husband and wife are meant to walk, but whilst Jonathan felt perfectly content, Mina could not have felt further away from him. Streets and roads that she was so familiar with felt like a dark and foreign land, turning her around in the night, making her lose her way.

For the first time, she thought about the choice she had made. Her hands had been tied, she reasoned, when she had made the decision to marry Jonathan. What other option was there? It was the only choice to make. She loved Jonathan. She was engaged to Jonathan. She had given him her word, her pledge. They had exchanged promises. She had a duty to remain true to him. She was not the kind of girl to capriciously fall in love with another the moment her partner was out of sight. Everyone knew about their engagement. Her reputation would be in tatters if she deserted her fiancé.

Even as the words passed through her mind, she instantly knew that they were small, petty excuses and dismissed them as unworthy. But they were all that had passed through her mind when she made the decision to go to Romania to wed Jonathan and – with a heavy heart – forget all about her prince.

Ever since she had made her choice, she had done everything in her power not to think about it, not to revisit it or reconsider, as it was pointless. But for the first time, she realised that she needed to think about it. She needed to know what she wanted, even if it was too late, even if the answer she discovered broke her heart.

Aching with loss, she realised that the path she had chosen had left her cold and still, clinging not to her husband, but to the memory of another who haunted her thoughts and lingered in her dreams.

Darkness fell, claiming the earth completely and while it unnerved her husband, it brought an absent kind of solace to Mina. Shadows were abound. They tempted her soul with sweet hope of salvation. For a moment, Mina would have willingly let them blind her, if only doing so would lead her back to her prince, to happiness, to peace. She thought, as she anguishingly reconsidered her choice, of those happy days with her sweet Vlad, who had so warmed, cherished and nourished her flawed heart. She thought of the brief passion, the dark memories that had burned inside her flesh and soul. Gently, the remembrance soothed her.

Back, her mind flew. Back across the twisted, uneven path of memory...towards her prince...

She was no longer alone.