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"So, let me get this straight…" Dracula leaned back in his leather recliner, his fingernails tracing the rim of his glass, which still contained traces of the excellent science major Renfield had sourced. "Our people are incredibly hierarchical, yet everyone's position in society is dependent upon their age? But that's ridiculous." Dracula couldn't contain his scoff of disbelief.

Position based on inherited power was one thing, at least people in power had a vested interest in educating their offspring properly, if only to ensure that didn't lose everything in the next generation. As a nobleman of some learning and skill, Dracula knew that being in charge was not something that was suited to everyone. There were several members in his own family history, where power had resided in the hands of the current Prince for too long. Their aging minds made feeble, and their bodies too weak for war.

"So, the decisions are made solely, by a bunch of people whose deciding characteristic for leadership, is that they survived the longest, and they are the oldest of their bloodline! Agatha you cannot think that is sensible?"

Biting her lip, when inside she shared some of the same feelings, Agatha still did her best to redirect the conversation.

"Not all the decisions." Agatha clarified. "If there is a unanimous Elder agreement then they can pass laws without consultation of the Grand council, otherwise it only takes two Elders to table a discussion before the Grand council."

"And this Grand Council is made up of whom?"

"Chosen representatives from each clan, two seats each to prevent a significant power block developing, but in reality, the council is so tied up in existing alliance agreements that it is easy to predict how most discussions will go based on who introduces the proposal."

"And anyone can take their clans seat?"

"Well they have to have the approval of their Elder and be over 150 years old."

"Age again!" Dracula snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. Swinging his feet down from the chair and heaving his body out of it, Dracula padded over to the decanter, tipping the remaining few millimetres of blood into his glass.

"Top up?" He offered, pointing to Agatha's own neglected decanter, the award-winning Cuban dancer, he had ordered Renfield to procure especially.

"Count Dracula I am here to help acclimatise you, not socialise." Agatha huffed. She had agreed to one drink, and one drink she had had.

"Oh Agatha, please excuse the phrasing, but live a little won't you." Dracula teased, pouring her fresh glass despite her objections. "Now why these set limits, why 150 years old? I can't imagine you, are going to suddenly gain more wisdom, in the next 27 years than you do right now?"

Freezing at the innocent, and yet decidedly awkward question, Dracula had naively blundered into; Agatha took a deep sip from her drink instead. Watching as the Count wandered back to his recliner, this time toeing off his shoes, and propping his sock clad feet on the footrest. It was an intimate and relaxed gesture, and one Agatha had never expected to see.

The Dracula she remembered, was always so very precise with his appearance, and yet here he was letting his guard down in front of her…That he had very large, shapely feet had nothing whatsoever to do with it.

"Agatha…" Dracula prompted, swallowing his own smile, as his deliberate move to lower his guard had its desired effect; leading Dracula to wonder if maybe he should take his waistcoat off next?

"Sorry…what?"

"Why 150 years, was it chosen randomly or was there some specific reason?" Dracula prompted again.

"Oh, well 150 years marks the end of 'childhood' in vampire terms. When a vampire gains full citizenship rights, their conscription service ends, and they can choose their preferred career, or life direction…" Agatha fudged slightly, squirming a little under Dracula's gaze.

"You are avoiding telling me something, and it must be something important, why 150 years?"

"Why 16 or 18 years for mortals?" Agatha spat back, finishing her drink in one gulp and standing up to pace the room, which despite its grandeur suddenly felt far too small.

"Well for mortals its obvious, there are certain physical changes…" Dracula began only to stop, his quick mind quickly coming to a conclusion, yet it was too fantastical. "Nooo…you aren't serious…"

Relieved beyond measure that it was physically impossible for her to blush, Agatha merely nodded.

"But that's preposterous, I distinctly recall fucking my way through at least my first century." Dracula jested. "I certainly didn't need to wait for…what's the word they use for it now…yes puberty."

Wishing beyond anything Mycroft had been the one to deliver this new, Agatha could imagine him telling Dracula all about the vampire birds and bees with an almost clinical delivery. Perhaps by channelling Mycroft, Agatha might get through this without the urge to die again.

"It is not a question of capability, it is a question of fertility." Agatha clarified, knowing now that she had a captive audience, as she heard Dracula slide once more from his chair and pad towards her on his socked feet.

"Agatha, I trust you would not make japes about something as serious as that." Dracula's voice and gaze were deadly serious, as he turned her to face him. "Are you saying it is possible for vampires to reproduce…"

"Physically as well as orally, yes." Agatha conceded with a nod, and now that the most embarrassing bit was over, and Dracula was taking this seriously, it was easier for her to carry on.

"In truth Vampires are not just hierarchically split by age, they are split by origin as well. There is a distinct belief in the superiority of the born vampire over the turned. Of course, in numbers there are far more turned than born, it is not as straight forward as it is for mortals. Birth rates are low, very low. There is a disproportion of males to females, by the time a vampire reaches 150 years old the ratio is almost 3:1."

Letting that fact settle, Dracula felt a weight he had been carrying all those years, finally melt away. That was why all his experiments had failed, his brides were too young, none had survived more than 20 years in his care, he had never had a chance. Well that wasn't entirely true…one had survived…

"That must make you quite the catch. Should I get down on one knee now, or would you like to test drive me first?" Dracula added unable to resist; watching as Agatha's composed expression quickly turned murderous.

"You are unbearable." Agatha growled, moving to grab her coat. She had come here to fill Dracula in, she had done that, well enough of the basics, she did not come here to talk about her own love life, or listen to disgusting propositions from him.

"What I am just making an observation. I'm not expecting you to have waited for me all these years, I won't go asking for the gory details…of course if you wanted to share." Dracula teased trailing Agatha as she made for the door, reaching it before her, and leaning his weight against it. "Agatha now don't be missish, we are all grown ups here."

"One of us might be." Agatha retorted, crossing her arms as she stared him down. "The other is old enough and should know better but…"

Holding up his hands in surrender, Dracula conceded defeat. "I was only teasing, honestly."

"Well don't. It's not funny." Agatha growled. "It was bad enough before, but at least I had my work and I could stay out of people's way. I was an orphan until you came back, clanless, my future was completely in my own hands. I want to join the scholars, not become some breeding machine."

"Why does my coming back change anything?" Dracula questioned, smothering his disappointment under a charming smile.

"Because you're my Elder, I have to defer to you, you can make alliances with other clans and use me as the collateral." Agatha spat back, the fear that had been gnawing away at her ever since Dracula had returned was there, all laid out for him to mock.

Now they came to it. His smile gentling, as a genuine one took its place, Dracula reached up touch her face, disappointed when Agatha flinched and pulled away.

"Agatha Van Helsing, I give you my word, I will never sell you to anyone, not for political gain, not for anything. This I promise on my house, on my honour." Dracula vowed, and he meant it, every word.

Relief beyond measure flooded Agatha, she felt tears prick at her eyes, and yet the doubt still lingered. "You mean it?"

"I mean it. I would never do that to you."

"And you'll support me in joining the scholars?" Agatha added, unable to believe quite what she was hearing, it was almost too good to be believed, but there was no lie in Dracula's face.

"If that is still what you want when you are of age, then yes."

And he would. Dracula had no intention of trading Agatha for political favours, he would rather have her friendship than nothing else. Of course, that still gave him 27 years in which to change her mind, and he would change her mind, even if he had to do everything in his power; this was not a game he could afford to lose.

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