-insert same disclaimer as always here regarding borrowed characters–

"Uncle," Ileana chastised firmly, hands planted on her hips, "if you don't feel well enough to travel, you clearly aren't well enough to work."

Victor glanced up from his desk, the look of a guilty child on his face, and he cleared his throat, "Chick pea, I merely don't think it is wise to travel with a congested nose and a painful throat. I could infect others... What if I infected the royalty we'd be mingling with?"

Her eyes narrowed, though the young woman had somehow suspected this of him. Although he had been outwardly pleased for the invite to attend Dracula's "little" gathering at the time it was given, something in her gut told her that Victor wouldn't be pried away from his work for long. That morning, he had suddenly come down with a terrible cold. All the symptoms were visible, so she knew he wasn't faking by any stretch, but she silently wondered if he had purposely made himself sick in order to get out of leaving the castle. Dracula, as far as she was concerned, was unaware of her uncle's disinclination to join them in Budapest for the festivities, and she had a feeling that it would be her job to tell him so when the carriage arrived that night to fetch her.

Now, should he completely back out of this little gathering, then Ileana was quite aware of the fact that she would be traveling with Dracula alone to some foreign country. It made her stomach knot in that painfully excited way, and she wondered whether or not it would be appropriate. Naturally they wouldn't share a room, but now that they would no longer have Victor as their buffer, who knows what would happen?! Perhaps he would carry on with courting her, but now he would be able to do it without Igor or her uncle lurking in the background. Perhaps it would be nice to have some space from those two to simply spend time with a man who clearly enjoyed flattering her and doting on her with gifts and whatnot.

"All right, away from your desk," she ordered sharply, stepping around all the cluttered piles of papers and books. Ileana grasped his arm, pointedly ignoring all sorts of protests that he managed to squeak out, and hauled him to his feet. Thankfully he was sick enough to move without enduring much struggling, and Ileana found him easy to escort from his office. She gave him a light nudge toward the staircase which would lead up to his room, albeit directly above his office, and she informed him that he was to remain in bed for the rest of the night. Should he want something, she was sure Igor would be obliged to fetch it for him. Once he was well enough again, she claimed that there would be no issue in having him go back to working like a maniac, as usual. He was reluctant, argumentative and stubborn beyond belief, but that was to be expected. The Creation had taken over most of his life these days, and she knew that it was like an addiction. He just couldn't get enough of it, yet he couldn't take a step out of his body to see his own behaviour. She prayed, as he sombrely marched up the stairs to his room after some arguing, that he would stay up there and get a good night's rest for once.

Her mind, however, was not completely focused on her uncle, nor would it be for a moment longer. Dracula's carriage was bound to arrive sometime soon, and her luggage was waiting down by the main door. It wasn't much. The dress that Dracula had purchased for her from Paris was tenderly folded up in a small bag of its own, to ensure that nothing else damaged it or tampered with it. The other bag was simply filled with some necessities. There was a nice pair of small heels, black, along with a garment to sleep in and two of her regular plain dresses to wear around when they weren't... well, being entertained by royalty. The thought made her giddier than she thought it would have, and she could barely contain her massive grin whenever she thought about it. This event wasn't something Ileana would ever think she would become accustomed to, but maybe this was going to be the start of something different. Something that did not always have to involve a hypothesis and variables, preferably...

Igor was somewhere in the castle, no doubt locked away in his room in the lower quarters, and Ileana barely spared a thought of saying goodbye to him. A sound of thunderous hooves echoed in the courtyard, and Ileana hastily rushed to a nearby window, nibbling on her lip as she spotted Dracula seated out front with the driver, tugging at the thick leather reins to get the horses to come to a stop. Touching the glass delicately, she watched him only for a moment before rushing to the main entrance, snatching a hanging summer cloak along the way and gently wrapping it around her shoulders. The skirts of her beige dress barely touched the ground as she moved, nor did the soles of her brown flats give off any indication that she was even there. She had learned, it seemed, to move with silence around the castle. Victor said it was a bad thing, but she couldn't help but argue the contrary. Better for sneaking up on Igor, you see.

Dracula was just pushing the heavy gated door open when Ileana rounded the corner, slowing to something of a brisk walk when his eyes darted up to see her. Her curly hair was slung up in a ponytail, though she still absently tucked loose bits of it behind her ears in an effort to look aloof when he glanced at her. It was simply a reaction.

"I'm terribly sorry," Ileana started as she walked up toward him, "but Victor seems to have fallen-"

She was cut off when he grasped her hand and brought it to his lips, his head cocked to the side as he listened, "Yes?"

Taken back by his new greeting, she cleared her throat and retracted her hand from his cold one when she felt him loosening his grip, "... ill. He woke up this morning terribly under the weather, and I'm afraid he won't be coming to Budapest."

She wouldn't call the expression on his face one of delight, but he certainly didn't seem all that upset by any stretch. There was something of cold amusement in his eyes, and he released a sigh, "Does that mean you'll be staying behind to nurse him?"

She blinked, "Nurse him? ... Oh, Heavens no! He's a grown man who simply needs a good sleep and he should be fine... Hardly something I need to be around for."

The man grinned at her, and then leaned down to hoist up her bags, swinging them easily over his broad shoulder. He said nothing on the issue, and left it to her imagination to wonder whether or not he was actually pleased with the developments that were unfolding.

She followed him quickly outside, a warm gust of the summer air rushing over her as he secured her baggage in the back trunk of the carriage, and she beamed as he held the door open for her, as any gentleman should. However, she was a touch put off when he shut the door behind her, leaving her by herself in the carriage, and seemed to take the driver's company over hers. The carriage jolted forward suddenly, sending her stumbling back into the plush seat, and she frowned. Why wouldn't he join her in here? It wasn't like they had to be sitting on top of each other, but it would have been nice if they had at least shared each other's company and conversation. A thought struck her, and she pondered whether or not he would simply wait for a while, making sure the driver was not bored off his rocker, and would then come down to join her for the remainder of the journey. It only made sense, did it not?

Hmm. Apparently not. Ileana found herself alone for pretty much the entire ride, and after a while she could no longer fight off sleep, and when she awoke, it was to the sound of city life. Sitting up, she ran a hand through the pieces of hair that had fallen loose, and finally spotted her companion seated across from her. He was holding back the small red curtain, no doubt watching the people as they passed. She could hear the loud hooves of their Romanian horses thundering away on cobblestone roads, which were uneven at best. Sighing loudly, Ileana dragged herself into a sitting position, which still didn't manage to drag Dracula away from his blank stare out the window. Glaring, she did a quick check to make sure she didn't look completely terrible – no drool stains or anything – and turned her attention to him, "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Long enough."

What was that supposed to mean? Frowning at him, she turned her own attention toward the window and pushed her curtain aside. It was drizzling outside. The sky was a rather dark shade of grey, and any of the people that were out in the streets were rushing about to get from one covered area to the next. There were quite a few vendors out still, shouting their goods as the carriage passed, and Ileana felt a cold chill sweep over her as a rumble of thunder echoed faintly in the distance. What a way to start a day of celebration. Honestly, it was like Dracula simply attracted bad weather. It matched her somewhat foul mood, and she leaned back in her chair, annoyed with his distance and annoyed that she was sure she had just spent the whole night alone while Dracula sat up top and conversed with the driver. Had she done something wrong? A quick glance at him made her doubt herself. Honestly, the last time they had been talking, he was smiling and carrying her bags! And now? Now he wasn't even looking at her.

"Have I done something wrong?" she inquired, figuring that she may as well get to the point before this whole thing got underway. She wasn't about to spend a whole two days with someone and not understand why they were cross at her. If it was for some ludicrous reason that couldn't be resolved, then she figured she may as well just go home and sit with Victor.

Dracula's eyes flickered across to her, and he arched an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

"Have I done something to offend you?" she restated pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest, "I mean... I feel as though you won't even look at me, and you spent the entire ride up with the driver while I sat down here alone."

Her eyes narrowed as he released a little chuckle, and he cocked his head to the side, "Did you miss me while I was up there?"

Slightly taken back, she continued to fidget in her seat, somewhat unnerved by the way he had this uncanny ability to see right through her. Trying to shake off her nerves, she brought her eyes to his, "I thought it rude to simply shut me up, to be honest."

The man placed a hand on his chest, as though feigning a mockery of a hurt expression, and he leaned forward, "Terribly sorry, my dear Ileana. I'll keep that in mind for the future."

What was wrong with him? Was there something in Hungarian air that changed his mannerisms completely? As though sensing she found his current behaviour disdainful, he released a rather lengthy sigh and slouched back in his chair, "I don't want to be here, Ileana. You'll have to excuse my sarcasm... It isn't meant for you."

"Oh."

"My family and I, over here, don't quite see eye to eye, I'm afraid," he continued, pushing the curtain closed at his right and resting his hands in his lap. "I decided to come here because it was polite to do so, but I'm not all that pleased to find myself in their company again."

"I'm sorry," was all she could say, and she suddenly had the overwhelming urge to comfort him in his sulking mood. All forms of her prior irritation eased away with her new understanding, and she felt somewhat privileged to have a private look into his life. He smiled weakly, "Don't be. I brought you along so I could have at least one friendly face in the crowd."

Her cheeks tinted a rather embarrassing shade of red, and feeling very important, she couldn't help but beam at him. It made her feel ten times better to know that he was going to look to her as someone he could trust and depend on in a situation that clearly made him feel uncomfortable. It was flattering, really, and once again her uncle's voice rang shrilly in her head that the man was infatuated with her, and was most certainly going to continue courting her until he got what he wanted. Not that that sounded terrible or anything.

"Will anyone come out to greet us?" she inquired curiously, noting that they had left the main city streets and were following a wooded pathway now. He shrugged, "There are hundreds of people coming to this event, and I'm only a distant relative... I doubt they'll bother. We will be given a private cottage on their property, and that's that, I think."

"Oh."

Cottage. A shared little house? How many rooms would there be? Surely they wouldn't be sharing anything. How inappropriate! Sensing her thoughts once more, it seemed, the Count smirked and relaxed into his bench, "It's quite large. Suitable for more than two people, so we will both have quite a lot of space."

"Seems reasonable."

Oh, well at least that was sorted. Her eyes traveled in and among the plotted trees and over the gardens, and she knew that this was going to be a place to marvel at. Once this dreadful rain stopped, hopefully the sun would shine brightly and illuminate the glorious flowers and colours that this place had to offer. The castle was so dark and dreary by comparison, and this suddenly sparked a desire within her soul to get out of that place more often. Perhaps she could ask Dracula to take her places whenever he was around. After all, he wouldn't let her go into town alone, but maybe if he was an escort, or something, she wouldn't have to feel like a prisoner in her own home as often anymore.

When the carriage came to an abrupt halt, Ileana had to place a hand at the side to keep herself from stumbling forward and out of her seat. Silly things always stopped for fast, and for some reason she was forever on the wrong side of the carriage to handle the inertia that went along with it. Dracula rose quickly and made his way out of the carriage, head ducked to avoid hitting it on the roof, and she soon found herself staring at his awaiting hand. With a sigh, one that was difficult to decipher as contentment or annoyance, Ileana leaned forward and took it, inhaling sharply at the iciness that should have been expected by now, and gracelessly hauled herself out of the carriage. Before her stood what could have been considered a regular home, complete with a blooming garden and two stories. There were faint candles lit in all the windows, no doubt to illuminate their way on such a gloomy day, and Ileana had a feeling the Count exaggerated just a touch on the notion that this was a cottage. This was a rather large house, and it was strange that it should only be for the two of them.

"Come along, Ileana, let's get out of the rain."

His voice brought her straight from her thoughts, and she nodded, ducking her head a little to avoid the delicate droplets that splattered down. He brought an arm up and held it over her shoulder, the length of his cape keeping the water from getting through to her clothes. He didn't touch her, but she could literally feel the energy from his hand as it hovered over her shoulder, his arm across her back. She glanced up occasionally as they darted across the cobblestone walkway, their feet splashing in random puddles here and there, and she couldn't help but notice there was something... distant in his expression. Now that she thought about it, he regularly looked distant, and it ... bothered her. She could never quite understand why he appeared that way, but here it was, and she knew that there was nothing she could do about it. Her older female relatives always said that men were in a world completely of their own. Women should try to help with that world, but they were to never invade it and try to take over. Instead, watch from a distance, and that was exactly what Ileana planned to do.

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There was quiver of excitement that ran through Velkan as he stood in the safety of the forest, watching the castle before him without a hint of trepidation. The Head Bat had flown the coop this fine day – this fine cloudy day, granted – and had left the place virtually defenceless. All that they needed to do was storm the keep, take the prisoners back – specifically ensure that Ileana was safe – and then kill the rebel who had decided that it was perfectly logical to work with Dracula. For pay, he had no doubt. Honestly, money was slowly starting to drive the world these days!

He wasn't particularly sure what drove him to ensure that Ileana was safe out of everything. There was this... internal desire to make sure that she was out of harm's way. It almost seemed... cruel that she, as young as she was, had to suffer the fate of her uncle and work for the beast. All of the men were positive that none of them knew exactly who or what Dracula was, and there was little hope that he would ever casually slip it into conversation. The man simply made his blood boil, and he wouldn't be able to rest until he had brought justice to the family members that had died over the past four years in an effort to kill him. He was nothing but a stain on this land, a mark of a demon, and Velkan thought of nothing but being the one to finally send him back to where he belonged.

A silence had settled over the forest long before the men had sunk into it, hidden beneath the sea of green and nestled in amongst the pine. It wasn't as though they were necessarily hiding from anyone in particular, but it seemed wise to have some sort of... strategy. Yes, it was confirmed that Dracula's personal carriage – which seemed ridiculous in itself, seeing as the man could fly – was seen crossing the border early in the morning hours, with him atop it. That meant he was officially out of the country, and by doing so probably wouldn't suspect an attack on his latest pet project, whatever that might be.

His father stood nearby, running a rag over a sword. You could never be too careful when it came to operations such as these, and while they all knew that they outnumbered the occupants of the castle, it was better to be safe than sorry. All the men were armed, but they were lacking their usual vampire hunting tools. Dracula, it was safe to say, was out of the country, and the rest of the people inside were mortals. Once the situation was explained to them, and they understood that Velkan and his family were doing nothing but helping them escape this villain, they would be eternally grateful. If they were smart, they'd run far, far away, too.

A silent signal from his father sent the first couple of men out of the forest, creeping with stealth and agility, such so that Velkan felt a wave of pride swell in his heart. These were his people, and he couldn't have asked for a better sort. Another signal and another group of men started from the far left, then the right, and then it was finally time for Velkan and his father to head down toward the castle. It wasn't an aggressive storming, more like a silent coup. The men were efficient and steady as they started their assault on the gate. Tools clanged against it, while some started to climb the walls in an attempt to get in faster.

Then, for a very short moment, the sky turned a darker shade of grey. Frowning, Velkan paused in his gate smashing actions to glance upward, noting that the clouds had gotten heavier. Perhaps... Perhaps it was going to rain again today. However, the clouds didn't seem to look all that heavy, as they rolled in in such grand numbers that they appeared to be empty, but numerous. A few others took note of the sudden change in light, as it was usually a signal of an approaching vampire, but it was only Dracula who could control the weather. His brides usually only came out at night...

Or so they all thought. A sudden screech filled the air, and Velkan followed it, horrified. He knew exactly what Hellstorm was coming when that sound could be heard, and he glanced at his father. What were they going to do?! None of them were prepared to battle vampires... Not so far from their weaponries in the village! With a determined look on his face, one that mirrored his mentor and father, he turned away from the gate, catching three figures flying in at an alarming pace. There was no time to run, no time to scatter... They'd be here in a matter of seconds.

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Oh, Christ.

Victor had the worst headache. He was quite sure he had a fever, his throat was aching, his glands were swollen, and he was pretty sure he was hallucinating. That, or Igor had suddenly decided to turn into a mildly attractive woman for a few hours the previous night. Naturally, Victor ignored all advice by his niece and had set to work right after she left. He had no worries about sending her off with the Count, simply because he could tell how much the man adored her. After all, why would he waste all that money on a woman he wasn't interested in making his wife?

After all, Victor had tried courting women in the past. It was a lot of effort, and after some time of being rejected, having gifts returned and whatnot simply because he couldn't dedicate enough time or attention to them... Well, he gave up trying. But the Count was different with his Ileana, wasn't he? He was thoughtful, polite, and he was just the sort of person that his brother would have wanted Ileana to marry! It was like Victor was still doing good deeds for him, despite the fact he was beyond the grave now.

His current state was a result of staying up to work last night. He knew, at the time, that he should have gone to sleep. It's a known fact that the body works to heal itself when the individual is asleep, and should he have taken the eight or so hours of sleep that he could have had instead of working, perhaps his condition wouldn't have been so bad now. It was a shame, since he could barely focus on anything he was doing anyway. ... Hell, he couldn't even remember what he had been doing! He did, however, recall that Igor looked like a woman at some point, and was constantly telling him that he was sweating, and perhaps his fever was spiking. So, at around four in the morning, stupidly, Victor called it a day and crawled into bed, only to awake at noon the next day feeling terrible. Sure, he ended up sleeping, but it wasn't a comfortable sleep. His body went from hot to cold, he vomited once – out the window, fortunately – and he was in a constant state of pain in the throat region.

Christ.

And now, he was pretty sure he was hallucinating again. Oratory hallucinations, he assumed scientifically, because he was hearing something that sounded like a war going on outside his window. Naturally, the area in which he now called home was usually silent during the daylight hours, even in the misty fog that usually entrapped the village, but today something sounded different. There were men yelling and some ... excruciatingly high-pitched shrieks that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Were they slaughtering goats or something outside? This had to be a hallucination, as nothing seemed to make sense.

Rolling over in his small bed, his eyes flickered open wearily toward the circular window that overlooked a lot of the courtyard and surrounding moat. Groaning, the scientist ran a hand through his hair, then lazily sat up, wincing at the immediate pain in his throat when he swallowed. Why on Earth did people get sick? Naturally he knew the logical answer for this, but in his current state, he simply seemed unable to properly give a reason to his pain. Instead, he decided to check whether he was truly having oratory hallucinations or not, and should there be nothing outside, he'd crawl right back into bed and sleep the day away. Perhaps Ileana was on to something when she insisted he get a lot of sleep.

Groaning loudly, despite the pain it caused, Victor struggled to his feet and began a rather solemn march over toward the window. It was difficult, seeing as his physical body wouldn't really cooperate with his mind, but somehow he was managing to do it. Somehow. Placing both hands on either side of the window, he slumped forward, his tired eyes examining the scene before him. ... This had to be a hallucination. His stomach did something of a violent twist when he spotted three winged creatures, ones that mildly looked like women with red, blonde and black hair, soared high over a group of scattering villagers. They dipped down every so often, picking a man up and doing terrible, terrible things to him. Crying out suddenly, he watched as one snapped a neck and tossed a man in the moat. Forcing himself to look away, he stumbled backward and into his dresser. Stunned, he hastily crawled back into bed and prayed that it would all simply... stop. The sounds, the cries, the images in his head... What were those things?! Was all of this even real?! Terrified, his body was overtaken by a sudden chill, and he nestled deeper under the covers, hoping to retain some sort of control over his mind. However, before he could even think a coherent thought about what was going on, he felt himself drifting back to sleep. At that point, something told him that should his slip to the world of dreams come so easily, then clearly none of this was real...