Chapter 7 – Tears
Home.
Lucy could not help but breathe a sigh of relief as she walked through the stone archway of the castle foyer.
"I—I need to wash up." She managed shakily, bidding the tears collecting in her eyes not to fall as she struggled to banish the events the occurred in the village from her mind.
"Of course." The count replied graciously as the young woman started up the stairs to the washroom.
Lucy made it to the small room before collapsing onto the hard stone floor, her slight form shaking with pent-up sobs. She had always been taught to be conservative with her emotions, especially around others. She did not want to have either Dracula or her Uncle Victor to see her in such a state. She sat, huddled on the cold floor, her arms wrapped around herself. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she sought to keep her sobs quiet. She knew sound carried far through the stone halls, even past closed doors. She did not want to disturb the men downstairs or have them know she was having such difficulties at the moment. They had been through enough already. She would get over the terrifying afternoon, she just needed some time.
That was what she told herself, anyway. She stood suddenly, still sobbing, the images of that incident still replaying over and over in her mind. She grabbed the soap from the wash basin and immediately began scrubbing her skin wherever it had come into contact with the man's attire. She cried as she scrubbed her check viciously with the harsh soap. The people had frightened her so much, and now she could neither erase their sight, sound, nor smell from her person. Dirt and sweat and fear; not fear of the monsters, but fear of the count. Clammy, cowardly fear.
"Get it off!" She wailed quietly, still aware of the men downstairs. Her fingers fumbled with the laces of her heavy dress as she tried to pry it off of her body. Her small limbs weren't obeying her properly, trembling as she was. Her fingers shook and she shivered from the cold as she returned to the wash bin, her dress lying in a heap on the floor.
Even before Lucy had left the room, Dracula knew she had not returned to her normal self. His suspicions were confirmed when his sensitive ears picked up her choking sobs coming from the washroom. They were too quiet for Victor to hear, but he was still uncharacteristically silent as he perused his notes. Remembering that it was part of the human process, the count put aside the sobs he heard to work on his research with Victor.
He glanced up sharply a moment later when he heard splashes alongside Lucy's sporadic weeping, but continued his work. The normally observant Victor did not remark on Dracula's strange behavior for once. It had been a trying day for all parties involved, but the girl would be fine; she was perfectly safe now. Not that he cared for her wellbeing in any case, this research was much more important than the human. Even so, he could no longer help but become concerned when he could no longer hear her strong heart beating wildly, her sobs suddenly silenced.
He suddenly jumped to his feet, faster than he should have in front of the human scientist. "Excuse me." He said abruptly and calmly made his way out of the laboratory. Once he was out of Victor's eyesight, he hurried through the halls and up the stairs to Lucy's washroom. He frowned heavily as he heard her heartbeat declining. He knew well enough the sounds of a waning heart that he could tell she was not dying, but something had happened. Restraining himself, he politely knocked on the washroom door; but when he received no answer he quickly opened the door and rushed inside.
If he had still been human, his heart would have stopped at the scene before him. The young woman lay on the floor in nothing but her petticoat and undergarments. She was soaking wet and her still lips were darkening from chill. He glared at the wash basin and, sticking a finger in, realized it had not been warm when she had used it, in fact, it had been nearly freezing. He quickly knelt by her side and taking off his coat, wrapped the thick cloth around her, trying to touch her as little as possible. Contact with his icy skin would merely make the problem worse.
He gently lifted her into his arms for the second time that afternoon and carried her to the dining room, where he knew there was a fire lit. He set her still body by the fire and waited for it to warm her.
"Stupid girl." He muttered angrily; the crisis over, he now had leave to relax, which meant letting his emotions loose again. He knew she could not hear him, unconscious as she was. "How could you do this to yourself?! I kept you safe and all you manage to do is hurt yourself again!" He heard her heart rate returning to normal, but subconsciously ignored it. "You should be glad I was there to save you!" Dracula was pacing now, ranting to the air more than anything else. "I may not be so readily available next time. Your uncle will not save you, girl."
Dracula turned to see her staring at him with wide eyes, newly formed tears ready to trickle down her cheeks. Closing his eyes, he let out a sigh and ran one hand through his ebony hair. He knelt down next to Lucy and tried to soften his face. She shrunk back slightly, clutching his coat to her body.
"I am sorry I am such a burden." She choked. "I—I will go back home."
"No." The count said immediately; she jumped at his harshness and he tried to calm his voice. "No." he said again, softly, this time. "I was afraid for your safety." he lied quietly, or he thought he did. In the back of his mind there was something that said it was the truth. "From both earlier this afternoon and when you decided to take a cold bath in the winter. Neither of them being particularly healthy choices, Miss Moorland."
She nodded slowly then said, "I'm sorry you had to see me like this." She hung her head, refusing to meet his gaze.
Dracula was taken aback slightly; she surprised him at every turn. She did not wallow in her own self-pity, nor did she seem to crave his attention through her circumstances. She refrained from whining and complaining, even in light of the trials the day had presented. She was not weak in spirit as most women he had known throughout his life. This one, while delicate, was neither demanding nor particularly irritating. In fact, she seemed to enjoy his company when he was not inadvertently scaring her. "It is no trouble, Miss Moorland."
"I—I was so frightened. I thought—thought th—they would have killed me. O—or worse." She wailed suddenly, tears falling from her eyes.
"I know." He replied gently, unsure of how to proceed. She was genuinely seeking comfort in his presence, something he had not experienced in decades, if not centuries. A small smile graced his lips as he steadied her slender form; Lucy still trembled slightly as she sat up. He had a momentary urge to hold her in his arms, but dissuaded himself from such behavior. She seemed to want to hide herself from him, immediately looking away and into the fire that would have been cheery had the girl not been in her current state. He found himself wondering if there was something other than this afternoon's events that had sparked such a radical change in her demeanor, but he did not want to ask. He may not have been human any longer, but he would still act a gentleman.
Lucy continued to weep, acutely aware of the count's presence next to her. She tried and failed to calm herself several times, but was unable to completely quell her sobs. She refused to look at the count, knowing that her face was red and her eyes were pink and swollen from her tears. She knew he would be able to tell that her nose was running if she spoke, so she remained silent, still shaking with repressed sobs as she stared into the flames.
She felt his hand on her back; it almost seemed unsteady as if he was unsure whether or not he ought to have it placed there at all. She brought a hand up to her face to wipe some tears away from her wet cheeks, but was stopped by the count's hand gently grabbing her wrist.
"Lucy." he said softly.
She turned to face him, surprised that he used her given name.
He let go of her wrist to reach into a shirt pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, never taking his intense blue eyes off of hers. He brought it up to her distraught features and dabbed it softly on her cheeks.
"I—I'm—"
"Stop apologizing." Dracula interrupted, harsher than he intended to. "Why do you hide from me?" he continued softly, still slowly wiping the tears off her face. "I am not going to think less of you because you have been hurt."
Lucy gave a very slight and timid nod. She wanted to tell him why it had affected her so greatly, but she was afraid to. She was not entirely sure what she was afraid of, but there was an irrational fear that he would reject her in some way if she told him her very real fears. She did not want him to think differently of her; to think that she was silly and scared, and would always be so. She opened her mouth slightly, trying to find some way to explain her reaction, but thought better of it and quickly shut it again.
"Please, do not be afraid to speak your mind, Miss Moorland."
"I—" Lucy inhaled deeply, her lungs shuddering at the sensation. "My father—"
Dracula remained very still; admittedly curious about this girl's past.
"He was— or is— a doctor in—" She choked slightly. "In the Pacific Colonies. He—he went missing several months ago. Some of the villages there are not known for their tolerance. He— put himself in a lot of danger just by going. I can't help but wonder if—" Tears began streaming down her cheeks as she spoke. "If there was a mob like the one today who took him a—away from me."
"I—I also heard stories; stories I knew I was not bidden to hear. The women— the native women in those colonies… They are treated like slaves; worse than slaves, like animals. I—I heard they take the women and—and—" She trailed off, unable to say what they did to the women, but the count nodded in understanding.
Dracula knew enough about humanity to know what levels they would stoop to. He may be a monster in many eyes, but forcing himself on a woman was one thing even found disgusting. Seduction he did very well, but to behave like a worthless, unthinking beast; that was inconceivable for him.
"I c—couldn't help but think about those women today when—when that man grabbed me."
The count let out a breath and nodded at her slowly. "I would not have let them hurt you."
Lucy bit the inside of her lip, not knowing what to say. She knew that he would not let any harm come to her. Her breath caught in her chest as he wiped away her tears, not with the cloth she had expected, but with his bare thumb.
"I will keep you safe here, Lucy." he promised. "It was my fault you were put in such a terrifying situation this afternoon. It will not happen again."
"Thank you." she replied quietly.
"Will you be alright now?" he inquired, slightly hesitant to leave her alone again.
Lucy nodded and gave him a shy smile. "Yes." She sniffed. "I will be fine."
Dracula helped the girl to her feet.
"Your coat." She said, indicating the cloth that was wrapped around her form. "I can—"
"Do not trouble yourself, Miss Moorland. You can return it to me when you are back to normal. I shan't require the use of it."
She nodded again and, suddenly conscious that she did not have the bulky fabric on that she would otherwise, pulled his coat tighter around her frame. She smiled at the count one last time before retreating up the stairs to put on a new, clean dress and wash the salt off her face with hot water. As she left Dracula's presence she could not help but think about all the stories she had read in the past. He had lent her his coat, and he had not seemed to mind when she had gotten upset. Her aunt had told her that men hate it when a woman appears weak and afraid, but neither he, nor the heroes in her stories seemed to care at all. In fact, he appeared to care a great deal about her well-being, even taking it so far as to promise to protect her while she was here with her uncle.
Little did she know that the being she needed the most defense from, would be the one providing it.
A/N: No excuses. I lost a ton of steam on this story during the holidays. (Honestly, I lost a great deal of steam on everything.) I hope the return of a new quarter will rectify this and allow me to feel free to spend my free time doing things that I enjoy (Like writing, and reading, etc =P )
