Children of the Night

That much hair had never been piled on Draculaura's head before. Her uncut locks had been swept up into fluffy curls, bound and pinned at the back of her head. They draped like weights against her neck and made slight, uncomfortable chills run down her spine that she couldn't wiggle away from, thanks to her corset.

"I don't want to go anymore," she muttered to her father.

Dracula was nearly at the entryway, but backtracked to take his daughter's arm. "Everything will be fine. There are plenty of other children your age."

Like a fairy tale, the child of a thousand comprehended the world around her with the same innocent nativity that a mortal of an age far younger than her. It was with that innocence that she clung to her father's arm long past their introduction, until he pried her loose at the edge of the grand hall and kissed her perfectly crafted widow's peak bangs. "I will be here. Everything is fine, just remember, the other children are just as scared as you."

Laughter from the far side of the hall disproved his theory. Her cousin Gory, a full two hundred years older, sat fanning herself with the other ladies-in-training. Her eyes lifted to her father and she nodded. An older man with silver-laced hair and a warm smile led over a child about her size with glasses much rounder and thicker than her cousin's. Laura's eyes widened.

"Vladimir," the man spoke to her father, clasping him on the back enthusiastically.

"Andrei," he replied, returning the gesture much the same. The other man looked at her and lowered himself to extend a hand to her, "You never told me you had such a lovely younger sister."

Laura's face flushed, and she giggled as she took his hand, "I'm his daughter, silly."

"Ah, a daughter; I've heard much about you, Draculaura." He gestured to the girl, and she stepped forward timidly. Her eyes didn't rise like Laura's to meet the other girl, but she twiddled her fingers like she held interest in them. "This is my daughter," Andrei told her, "Elissabat."

Behind the thick, circular glasses, the other girl's eyes finally rose. They froze like a small animal at night, and Laura brightened to her instantly. "Hello."

"Hello," she replied, much less enthusiastically.

"Perhaps you girls will be as good of friends as your fathers," Dracula murmured. Andrei straightened, and they observed for a moment before joining the others in the crowd.

Elissabat made no attempt to converse, let alone move. There were wires strung across her mouth, and Laura peered at them curiously. She was like a statue, save for her fingers. They wrapped around each other in patterns she couldn't decipher. Finally, she hopped up on the bench along the wall, "Why aren't you with your Mom? Is she a Countess?"

"My mother is dead," Elissabat murmured. "She…was not a very strong vampire. She died in childbirth with me."

Draculaura paused, unsure of whether she should pass along the information or not, but when it seemed like attention was deviated from them enough by the people standing near them, she replied, "My mother was a human servant of my father. She died from consumption, which Daddy tells me means tuberculosis, not being eaten."

"I'm sorry," Elissabat murmured.

"I'm sorry too. Do you miss her even though you don't know her?"

"I know her," she replied, "but no, not really. I'm used to her being gone."

At a loss for words, Laura simply sat. The other child was not very amicable, was she? She rather liked Count Andrei, but his daughter lacked imagination and social skills. She swung her feet and contemplated an easy, gentle way to let Elissabat know she was going to get some of the food from the kitchen and find something else to do, when understanding crashed in like the wave of black that formed it. Elissabat shrunk nearer to her, an odd gesture at first until she saw the plainly dressed vampire heading for them. He was a bit grayer than his brother, though it was obvious they were siblings. Her shoulders straightened and her little mouth spread into a smile; certainly someone who looked so much like their sibling had to be a great deal like them too, his irate, stalking gait aside.

Laura gave a wave, "Good 'morrow, sir! I've just made acquaintance with your brother!"

The man seemed intent upon weaving through the crowd without noticing them, but when she spoke, his eyes locked upon her suddenly. They were a fearsome, vibrant red that caused her stomach to flip uncomfortably.

"You know where my brother is?" he asked. The way he spoke his Romanian almost tinged with Russian troubled her for an unspeakable reason.

"No, sir," she replied, "I know he went to meet the other dignitaries with my father, though. There's…talk of a queen this time. Not a king."

He scoffed as he took another step away, but paused when he noticed Elissabat at her side, frozen in terror. For once, her thumb-twiddling ceased in favor of simply kneading the other girl's skirt. His eyes rolled and head shifted slightly. Disapproval? He walked away before she could inquire to either of their strange behavior.
Suddenly, almost undisturbed, Elissabat smacked her knee and walked away from her. Laura's eyes widened and she took off after the other little girl, catching her by the bow on the bustle of her skirt, "Wait! What was that for?"

"Leave me alone," Elissabat snapped.

"Why? I was just trying to do you a kindness!"

She stopped abruptly, causing the slighter youth to step into her back. Andrei's brother had joined them, and they spoke in a close circle. Her father's brows knit, and Andrei scowled deeply. Whatever he said disturbed them, but he said it with conviction.

"There is something not right with my uncle," Elissabat said quietly. "He has not been the same since the talk of war broke. You have to understand, he's not to be involved with the council in any way. He's dangerous."

Andrei cut him off, yelling sharply to quiet him before dragging him aside to continue their discussion away from prying ears. Dracula scanned the crowd and, spying them, nodded to his daughter once before following.

"Dangerous?" she murmured.

"Don't ask," Elissabat replied. Much like the rest of the socialites, they watched the place their fathers had gone for a moment before a door was moved and they were both overcome with a familiar, empowering scent. Elissabat perked up and Draculaura tightened her hold on her bow.

"Do you smell that?"

"I do."

"Do you like-?"

"How can't I?!"

She turned, exposing the metal wires fastened to her teeth, and clasped Draculaura's hand in her own. "Come on! That chocolate isn't going to eat itself!"

a/n- I'm sorry this is short and crappy. I made an attempt, but the muse never came back for it.