Chapter 5: Blood of the Sullied

"It has certainly been some time, Carmilla." Seras gestured to the cushioned chair across from the divan and made herself smile. "Sit with me, pray."

The pale vampiress of Styria did so, as demure as any human noble lady, with a smile that blatantly contradicted both the recalcitrant woman from the throne room and the murderess from the lonely castle of her homeland. "It is an honor to meet you again, Lady Draculina," said Carmilla, eyes down. "I thank you for condescending to speak with me."

"Oh, do drop the formalities, my dear." Seras waved her fingers lightly and reached for the decanter to pour blood into the second chalice. "Within this chamber, I am just Seras, and I condescend nothing. This is simply conversation and company, no?"

Carmilla looked up at her, her eyes almost pleasant and her smile almost that of an old friend.

"How are your domains?" asked Seras. "When you failed to arrive with the others, I began to fear Styria was too hostile for you to leave. Was the securing of your lands so trying?"

The elder vampiress accepted the chalice and brought it to her lips as she thought of an answer. Or recalled to mind the excuse she surely had prepared for her tardiness, moving castle or no. "Well, surely you know how mobs are with their torches and pitchforks," she spoke and brushed a lock of her white hair behind her shoulder. Pure white, Seras noted distractedly. Not like Integra's silver-white tresses or that of her children. "I would have been here sooner had I been quick enough to find the castle's last location before our master moved it. Fortunately, Godbrand has been keeping me apprised of its whereabouts."

She admits her spy? "Yes, I'd heard about that." Seras took a sip of blood herself and frowned. "And…why is Godbrand keeping you so well informed?"

"I suspect," Carmilla's tone was placid and humored. "It's because he still wants to sleep with me."

"And will you?"

"Goodness, my lady!" A coy laugh spilled from Carmilla's red lips and she effected a bashful wave of her hand. "Such impertinence!"

Seras smiled. "In my position, I find it more pragmatic to be impertinent. But indulge me, Carmilla. I am my master's eyes and ears, so I like to keep track of the allegiances and rivalries among his Generals."

This seemed to strike a chord of sorts in the Countess, for she answered, "I may…if all the other vampire males in the world were to drop dead. Half the females. Perhaps some of the animals."

"Well," Seras sipped at her blood. "I call that sensible of you. Coupling with Godbrand is rather like being stampeded to death by cattle in a riverbed. You walk away, if you can walk, rather amazed you're still alive."

Genuine laughter seemed to burst out of Carmilla at that remark. Or at the very least, a remarkably talented display of faking it. She even spilled some of the blood from her chalice as Seras had caught her in the middle of taking a drink. It was a light and airy little laugh, one that belonged more to a lovestruck maiden who had never seen the world at its ugliest. Not Carmilla. Never Carmilla. The disjointed manner of it even drew a small giggle out of Seras herself, and a mutual feeling of merriment seemed to pass between the two of them.

"Make that all the females then," Carmilla said once she'd composed herself.

"And still some of the animals?" Seras grinned knowingly.

"Many of the animals."

They broke out in subdued laughter again and brought their glasses together in silent camaraderie, a drop of blood slipping over the rim of Seras' and spilling onto her pale hand. She licked it up absently. "Was there something you wished to speak to me about, Carmilla? It must be important, the hour considering. It's nearly dawn."

"I," Carmilla began in a comically hesitant voice. "Merely wanted to pay my respects to a female vampire as great as yourself, Seras. You've been an inspiration to the women in this castle for years. Your deeds are legendary. Slaughtering the most feared Belmont barely a year after you were turned. Ruler of an empire within six or seven years of being turned. You're undaunted by sunlight, you've mastered a shadow form, and your fighting ability is renowned."

"Old stories," Seras said. "And hardly ones I take full credit for. My master played as much a role as I did in the death of Alexander Belmont. Neither was I alone in the empire matter. As for your other compliments, kind as they are, those attributes are the product of luck."

"You're too modest." Carmilla set down her glass. "They are grand feats and you have a right to be proud of them."

And I paid for that pride in blood and pain.

"We are of a like mind, my lady," the countess continued. "I hoped that two powerful vampire ladies such as ourselves might be friends as we carry out Lord Dracula's war."

What are you planning? What scheme have you that benefits from the support of Draculina? Discreetly, Seras cast a glance toward the wall behind their guest. Walter was standing there, half-hidden by shadows and ready to strike in a heartbeat if it was required of him. "Friends and sisters," she mused. "Of those, I have precious little among vampires. Comrades we may be, but I as a commander have sadly always been held apart from my peers." She saw Carmilla's eyes flash, and Seras fought to keep from narrowing her own. "Your friendship would be greatly welcome."

"I am gratified," said Carmilla as she took up her glass again.

I'll bet you are. Seras lifted her eyes and let her expression brighten. "But as we speak of comrades and sisters, tell me, how is Striga these days? It's been too long since we last spoke."

The question caught the countess off guard and blatant surprise spread across her face before she mastered herself and sipped at her chalice. "I confess I wasn't aware you and Striga knew each other. She is well."

"She was my right hand and a dear friend during my time in the north. I miss her company greatly."

"She did not defect to your service after you returned to Wallachia?"

"I offered her a place in my household, but in the end, she wished to walk an independent path, free of servitude. We parted on amiable terms." Tilting her head, she added. "I hear she and Morana are a mated pair now."

"Yes."

"Then I am glad of it." To think either of them still had enough love in their cold, dead hearts to harbor affection for another. The Striga Seras remembered was callous and foul of temper, qualities on which survival in the north depended. How many times had it saved their lives when they crouched together in a shield wall with their spears at the ready, or when they stormed distant shores, or when they defended their walled fortresses against enemy clans? Seras finished her blood and set the chalice upside down on the tray. "Love is a precious commodity, no?"

"Indeed," Carmilla said. "One that is certainly to be carefully guarded."

There was something in her voice that set Seras on edge. A glance to the corner showed her Walter was the same, although his gaze was trained impassively on the wall.

"And now that we are friends and sisters," said the Countess. "There should be no secrets between us, don't you think?"

In spite of her unease, Seras quirked the corner of her mouth in a smile. "Was there something you wished to know?"

"Yes. No doubt you know of a third lady in my court who knows you."

Damn. Memories of auburn hair and painted lips curled in a coquettish simper flashed behind her eyes. Of a powdered face smudged with rouge in a paltry imitation of human life. Even as the rage seeped from the space between her lungs and bled out through her ribcage and under her skin like mercury, Seras kept her voice steely and dark, her fangs all too visible behind her thin lips. "You must mean Lenore."

The satisfaction in Carmilla's eyes, as it had been in the throne room, was sickening. So…it's not my goodwill Carmilla seeks. This was a challenge.

"How fares the little minx?" Seras asked. "Do tell. I have not heard from her since she fled my court at Poenari."

"When you expelled her, you mean?" Her voice was sweet as poison. "She did tell me a very interesting story in that regard."

"Is that right?" Seras tapped her long nails against the arm of the divan. "Expelled implies I let her go willingly. Although, I would very much like to see her returned. We did leave our undertakings woefully unfinished."

"I'm afraid I've grown a little too fond of the cheeky tart to let that happen."

Seras made a disinterested sound in her throat.

"I wonder, though," said Carmilla. "Was her offense against you really so serious as to warrant so brutal a punishment?"

It was the same tone she'd used to provoke Dracula in the war hall, and Seras straightened upon hearing it again, shadows around her tensing like flexed muscles. "For a self-proclaimed ally to our cause, Carmilla, you certainly have a tongue for making enemies. What good does my anger serve you, 'sister?' What good does mine master's anger serve you for that matter? After all, you went and denounced the very grounds for his war in front of everyone."

"Why none at all, my lady!" God, she was maddeningly nonplussed. "It's a question they have all been asking themselves for weeks. I merely thought I might offer our lord an opportunity to address it."

"And why should the Generals question why the Lady Lisa Țepeș was never turned?" Seras asked sharply. "They all know the answer." And they are either branding you a fool for provoking the Dragon or are admiring you for it.

Carmilla fell silent, her jaw tightening ever so slightly Seras noted with a triumphant grin of her own.

"We have lived for centuries, my dear. It's the same tragic tale of love we've all heard before, is it not?" Seras leaned forward to prop her chin in one hand and gaze into the fire. "A lovely maiden, or comely young man if you will, comes to the door of the beast and there is a pretty and tragic romance that follows. Call them pets if you must, but everyone in that hall, whether they admit it or not, has once loved a human who was not afraid of their mortality and in fact rather preferred it to our…endless existence."

Except you, Carmilla. Seras flicked her red eyes to the vampiress in her chamber. You love nothing.

Whatever Carmilla hoped to accomplish with this visit, Seras gathered she had conceded temporary defeat when the Blood Countess shortly thereafter took leave of her, pleading weariness from her long journey. Whether this was true or just an excuse to escape her presence, Seras could not say, but she herself was weary and not at all sorry to have Walter show her company out. However, as Carmilla's heels clicked against the stone floor, an inspiration of morbid curiosity struck her and she called out, "Lenore's skin."

The Countess stopped.

"Did it grow back properly?"

-0-0-0-

Author's Notes: Echoes of Carmilla and Dracula's conversation in season 2, little bits of insight into the long, undead life of Seras and the sinister hijinks she's gotten up to during it. Hundred plus years, the lady has a history. Surprise Happy New Year update. Was not expecting to finish this tonight.

A note on Walter's change in rank for anyone who's curious.: In the medieval era, it was the castle steward who was in charge of all household staff, not the butler. The butler at the time was actually a much less influential role among the servants; his job was maintaining the buttery, which held the castle's ale, wine, and beer. So Walter's role in Seras' household is a steward.

To the guest reviewer of chapter 4, I'm not 100% sure where the Horde is at in the show. I'm basing this off the guys Isaac was arguing with in Genoa in season three. They were yelling about how they'd heard about what was going on in Wallachia. Not concrete evidence from canon, but that's what I took from it.

I own neither of these series.