The library was as silent as a tomb. In Castle Dracula though, the irony was largely lost. Night fell. The sound of heels clicking as someone walked into the library in search not for a book- but for someone. Ah, there she was. Snapping his fingers, the candles in the gold caladbara lit up at once, illuminating Count Draculas face and a resting young womans face, half hidden in a sea of pages. Dracula sighed. Really. For most ladies her age, they would be giggling, gossiping and speaking frivolous topics-not her. True, she did rant and rave (whats new) on certain nights (he swore she had a bit of a werewolf in her) but seriously-what woman read Edgar Allan Poe and Shakespeare for hours on end?!
"An odd one,"
he had concluded. And he would have it no other way. She was not jealous, like Aleera. Nor hateful, like Marishka. But the two damnable things he wanted her to change so badly was her tom-boyishness. Really, would it kill her to wear a dress? And about her virago-like rage...it would scare even the dead. ( A/N:LOL. My mother is also of the same mind about my rage and my fixation of lacy tops and pants. Its not my fault I can't find any Victorian stuff, isn't it? ) That aside, she was quite the interesting companion. He need not worry when she would throw herself at him -nor consider using a crowbar to get her off his arm. She had her limits-even for a wild child. He gently tapped her head to wake her.
"What time is it?"
"7pm. Time for fencing and archery."
The words acted like a charm. She leapt off the chair with a whoop of joy and sped towards the door and-
SLAM!!!
Dracula winced. That HAD to hurt.
88888888888888888888
Cassandra had to rest for a good 25 minutes before starting fencing and archery. You see, in her haste and excitement to start, her half-sleepy eyes failed to notice the library door was CLOSED. (This actually happened to me a few years back when Nature called at 2am. Forgetting that the bathroom door was closed, I WALKED straight into it!) Hence, her face and the door made intimate contact. Dracula was glad his brides were out feeding. Had they witnessed that, their cruel, vindictive little tongues would ignite the flames of her anger and-(cue:Major cat- fight)
God forbid.
After she had sufficiently rested, she selected her sword: a sleek, deadly katana. They say that looking into a katana's blade will tell you the color of your soul. Dracula barely batted an eyebrow when he saw the blade of his English sword black. As for Cassandra, hers was-gray, at least to HER eyes. She laughed.
"What's so amusing?"
"Some say I'm a devil incarnate. Others say I am an angel. What do you say?"
Dracula held back a laugh. If only she knew who she was talking to.
"I'd say-you're an angel with a devil wing."
She raised her eyebrows.
"A bit of both?"( A/n: I just HAD to add that!)
She murmured. Unsheathing her sword, she faced off with Dracula. As usual, he wore black and she wore a suit. Interesting. (Yes, I know, I ripped off one of Capt. Jack Sparrow's lines didn't I?)
On cue, both charged.
Dracula's POV:
Cassandra really surpassed herself in this area. All her frustrations are released into such skill. My, how she parries, spins, dodges-should she be one of us, oh the endless possibilities...
Thanks in part to weekly doses of my own blood given to her, she was a lot stronger than usual. (A/n: She is NOT a vampire yet since one needs to be NEAR DEATH before partaking their blood) For a woman, she certainly fights well( Is that sexism I smell?). Alas, she is distracted easily. I bat the sword out of her hands. She rolls to one side and grabs an Aztec hatchet while I throw my sword to one side and challenge her to come closer She gives a battle cry and charges-and I calmly grab the hatchet and swing her aside –a scream and a splash behind me confirms I have a bad aim. It is further confirmed when I see her glaring up at me from a pond, looking like a ruffled garden ornament. Determined to show her chivlary is not dead, I give her my hand.
"Let me give you a hand-
"No, Let ME!"
With that, she unceremoniously yanks me into the pond with her! (The Parent Trap was one of the rare Disney films that didn't give me diabetes-and I so love the fencing scene!) Had that been anyone else, their death (nice and slow) would be assured. Strangely though, for the first time in centuries, I join in her laughter.
"An odd one,"
he had concluded. And he would have it no other way. She was not jealous, like Aleera. Nor hateful, like Marishka. But the two damnable things he wanted her to change so badly was her tom-boyishness. Really, would it kill her to wear a dress? And about her virago-like rage...it would scare even the dead. ( A/N:LOL. My mother is also of the same mind about my rage and my fixation of lacy tops and pants. Its not my fault I can't find any Victorian stuff, isn't it? ) That aside, she was quite the interesting companion. He need not worry when she would throw herself at him -nor consider using a crowbar to get her off his arm. She had her limits-even for a wild child. He gently tapped her head to wake her.
"What time is it?"
"7pm. Time for fencing and archery."
The words acted like a charm. She leapt off the chair with a whoop of joy and sped towards the door and-
SLAM!!!
Dracula winced. That HAD to hurt.
88888888888888888888
Cassandra had to rest for a good 25 minutes before starting fencing and archery. You see, in her haste and excitement to start, her half-sleepy eyes failed to notice the library door was CLOSED. (This actually happened to me a few years back when Nature called at 2am. Forgetting that the bathroom door was closed, I WALKED straight into it!) Hence, her face and the door made intimate contact. Dracula was glad his brides were out feeding. Had they witnessed that, their cruel, vindictive little tongues would ignite the flames of her anger and-(cue:Major cat- fight)
God forbid.
After she had sufficiently rested, she selected her sword: a sleek, deadly katana. They say that looking into a katana's blade will tell you the color of your soul. Dracula barely batted an eyebrow when he saw the blade of his English sword black. As for Cassandra, hers was-gray, at least to HER eyes. She laughed.
"What's so amusing?"
"Some say I'm a devil incarnate. Others say I am an angel. What do you say?"
Dracula held back a laugh. If only she knew who she was talking to.
"I'd say-you're an angel with a devil wing."
She raised her eyebrows.
"A bit of both?"( A/n: I just HAD to add that!)
She murmured. Unsheathing her sword, she faced off with Dracula. As usual, he wore black and she wore a suit. Interesting. (Yes, I know, I ripped off one of Capt. Jack Sparrow's lines didn't I?)
On cue, both charged.
Dracula's POV:
Cassandra really surpassed herself in this area. All her frustrations are released into such skill. My, how she parries, spins, dodges-should she be one of us, oh the endless possibilities...
Thanks in part to weekly doses of my own blood given to her, she was a lot stronger than usual. (A/n: She is NOT a vampire yet since one needs to be NEAR DEATH before partaking their blood) For a woman, she certainly fights well( Is that sexism I smell?). Alas, she is distracted easily. I bat the sword out of her hands. She rolls to one side and grabs an Aztec hatchet while I throw my sword to one side and challenge her to come closer She gives a battle cry and charges-and I calmly grab the hatchet and swing her aside –a scream and a splash behind me confirms I have a bad aim. It is further confirmed when I see her glaring up at me from a pond, looking like a ruffled garden ornament. Determined to show her chivlary is not dead, I give her my hand.
"Let me give you a hand-
"No, Let ME!"
With that, she unceremoniously yanks me into the pond with her! (The Parent Trap was one of the rare Disney films that didn't give me diabetes-and I so love the fencing scene!) Had that been anyone else, their death (nice and slow) would be assured. Strangely though, for the first time in centuries, I join in her laughter.