Twilight Is Not Good For Maidens
Author's Note: I return, new chapter in hand! I know that I ought to be revising for my exams, but the temptation was just too much...I was so hungry to write more! Anyway, now we're heading deep into the original part of the story. For anyone who still doesn't quite understand what I aim to do, I'll explain right here. The film makes it quite clear that during Dracula's stay in London, he and Mina have been meeting secretly after their first 'chance' meeting. After all, Vlad arrives in London at the start of July and Mina leaves for Romania around late August/early September. So what I'm doing is filling in that time, writing about all the meetings that could've been... Now, I've also changed a few events concerning Lucy's illness – in the film, Dr. Seward instantly concludes that Lucy's illness is unknown to all medical theory, he sends for Van Helsing immediately, who in turn arrives immediately and figures it all out very quickly. The film, understandably, had to rush things through, I've just slowed them down to a better pace. Everything concerning Lucy and Van Helsing's arrival will happen as it did in the film, but I've just decided to develop things a little before we get to those various points. Also, I've taken the liberty of explaining the absence of Lucy's parents in the film. I hope that helped solve any confusion. Anyway, again my warmest thanks go out to all my reviewers, new and old. I hope you like this chapter! Also, special thanks to Jeannie Lindley for her fantastic ideas (you have to e-mail me sometime!), I've had a few similar ideas myself and your thoughts have been helpful.
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TWILIGHT IS NOT GOOD FOR MAIDENS
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Chapter 4: The Invitation
Midnight. London, July 7, 1897
The full moon was a ghostly galleon, almost entirely covered by the mouldy darkness of thick night-clouds. It shone down tapered light, faintly bleaching cobblestones and chimneytops with its bleak light. The lamplights provided the rest. London was asleep, its night-creatures stirring, squirming and swarming over cold streets. Yet one creature of the night had rule over them all.
Vlad Draculea departed the Hillingham estate with deep satisfaction coursing through him, as well as deep concern. His thoughts stayed with Mina throughout. The depths of his passion and tenderness did not seem to be able to co-exist with one another; the instinct of one was the direct opposite of the instinct of the other. Departing from the carriage, he strolled through darkness of London's night, gliding with ghostly, menacing ease and power like a shadow. After a day spent in the stark, harsh sunlight, stepping into the darkness once more was like a balm. It was like finally stepping into his own skin, like slipping into his own element, his black realm of power. As he strode, blackness and evil seemed to gather around him, drawn to his mighty presence. Wordlessly, as he passed through misted streets, his presence whispered the silent secrets of death's deep.
He passed across a street. Indistinguished hazy ghosts gathered throughout the city in the form of memories and the pain of those who wandered the uneasy streets at night. The proud roads of London seemed little more than a ribbon of moonlight, edged roughly with darkness and the shadows of sinful strangers. The earth was so old, yet still so green. Now, it was covered in hard roads, buildings, and metals. And still, beneath that cold crust, deep in its heart, it nursed fire unfelt and unseen by the people that dwelt upon it. Somehow, the London fog carried the ancient earth's keening, its lament of its age and unknown depths, and brought its harrowed cry to Vlad's ears. This was the music of the night; the music of alone, the music of darkness, the music of sorrow. He felt bloodlust rise within him. It was also the music of hunger. And fog-bound streets of London's night offered an array of sinister and innocent characters from which he could quench his thirst. Even his love and loneliness could not erase that need to feast on the life of others, to take God's rule over life and death into his own hands, as he did every night of his life. There was no guilt in these killings – some merciful and quick, some brutal and ghastly – only the satisfaction of hunger released, desire fulfilled and violence sated.
Yet with Mina, there was guilt, joined in comradeship with bitter conflict. He had fought the urge to sire her as a vampire against her will and that action, that one act of love, had given birth to a thousand more doubts. Uncertainty as to whether or not he deserved her love raged against the knowledge that she was his destiny, as he was hers. They belonged together. Now, at last, after centuries of waiting and solitude, the depths of his love for her had been rewarded with something other than loneliness and pain.
He felt such regrets. He should not have fought in the great battle, centuries past. He should have remained at her side and allowed God's kingdom to fall – Elisabeta was more important to him than any of that. And yet, his religious devotion, his love of Christ, his pure duty to an unjust God had blinded him, and for that he had been punished and lost his beloved princess. He would have died, if only to save her, to bring her soul from the torments of Hell into the light of salvation once more. He would have done anything to save her soul or paid any price to raise her from the dead. Instead, he had willingly damned himself, to be in Hell at her side. And now, death still had not found him, but instead worn him down...and she had returned.
The night called to him. He stopped, standing stock still outside a grand house, a London dwelling one that bespoke of wealth and aristocracy. This was a house that a good estate agent and English dead had provided for him. Of course, his true dwelling was the ruins of Carfax Abbey, this grand human home at Regency Square was only a formality, in case he should be in need of mentioning a home at any point. Vlad had already conjured up a use in his mind for such a house.
He nodded, satisfied, before a graceful gloved hand slipped into the pocket of his grey coat and plucked out a small photograph. Mina. Gazing upon the picture he had stolen from Jonathan Harker before leaving his motherland, a slight smile touched his lips. His blue eyes looked deep into the face of the lady in the photo, his piercing eyes softened and filled with a quiet questioning. The dark depths of his eyes flickered in memory and pain and narrowed slightly in a mix between contemplation and fascination. He allowed his free hand to touch the image of her face, as if wishing that he could reach into the small photo and touch the lady herself.
At last...she had returned to him. That was all that mattered in the end. After centuries of loss, of believing her gone forever and shorn of her immortal soul, she was alive and near him. He knew he had to be careful and treat the situation with great delicacy. Her ancient soul shone through, but her memories were lost, faded and submerged, only briefly surfacing now and then before retreating. He could not rush such things, else the onslaught of memories might damage her mind. There could be no conflict on this matter – he would win her love again, and as her love returned, so would her memories, with gentleness and patience.
And yet, could he make her one of his own kind? Could he mar her light and make her a bloodthirsty creature like himself? Could he ask her to share his bed of cold earth? Could he damn her soul?
There is blood between us, my love... he thought, as silent, aching conflicts wrenched and thrashed within him like waves on a storming sea. Too much blood...
Yet, if only he had her with him, he would regret nothing. He would never do anything that would lead her to sorrow, instead to be vampires would bring them freedom. They would live forever and their love would be immortal. He would never gain lose her, and she would never again lose him. Yes, he believed that this was fortune's way of compensating for an eternity of suffering. She was his destiny. For the first time since the end of his days of torrid, bloody vengeance, his curse seemed a blessing, for it could unite them in eternal love, forever.
Yet, this was no time to consider such fine dreams. What he required was tenderness in coaxing her memories to the surface, to win her love as she was now, without her former identity. Above all, he had to bring her happiness, to bring light into her life and heart as he had once, so many lives ago.
Stepping away from that house, and the humanity within him it represented, he stepped into the slick shadows grazing the corners of London streets and vanished, at one with the darkness. It was time to feed. The moon shone on, forever casting its purity down upon the night-clogged city, unaware of the darkness that dwelt down there. That night, blood was spilled.
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Early morning. Hillingham Estate, July 8, 1897
Mina Murray awoke early and aware, after years of such a habit. The shadows of night had fled and morning was shining strong. Mina stirred, eager to be a part of the waking world and to abandon the night. Her sleep was never easy or quick in taking her mind, but that night it had been disturbed by a strange dream. In her dream, she was caught in a realm of darkness and cold – she was alone but not so much afraid as sorrowful. She recalled feeling a piercing intensity of melancholy as she wandered through the darkness, calling out to someone, seeking a far-away soul as the river seeks the sea, her own soul's feelings running much deeper than any river. She had been walking across a chill river, her feet not even wet, wandering along it, listening to its moans. Then – falling. She had felt herself falling through air and water, sinking into a loss beyond fear. And then she had awoken, her legs bound in twisted bedsheets.
She tried to shake off the feeling, sensing clouds and dust gather over her mind. Such strange dreams and the experience of such intense feelings during these dreams weren't unusual to her. For as long as she could remember, her sleeping mind told sad tales of belonging, loss, water and...blue eyes. Of course, she could make no sense of it, as it was all made up of symbolic images and feelings, but it was almost as if her mind was trying to tell her something. She never let herself give up on these strange dreams, or forget them. Of course, as she grew older, they had visited her with less frequency but when they did find her, it was with almost frightening intensity. They were unfathomable.
Curiously, she felt her thoughts drift to Prince Vlad. Unconsciously, she smiled slightly. Her thoughts flew over the events of the previous day, what it all meant...she had never before met someone whose passion spoke to her so deeply. She knew it was unlikely, but she hoped to someday see him again and longed to unravel some of his mystery and understand the distant pain she had seen.
The morning spoke to her and she felt it enrich her and the memory of her strange prince made her feel awake and alive to the fingertips. Mina threw back the sheets, pushed herself out of bed, smoothing her tangled black hair and put on a thick purple dressing-gown and warm slippers, stepping to her window, opening it slightly and looking out. As she gazed out, looking beyond the vast Hillingham gardens to the sight of brilliant sunshine kissing the tips of chimneytops with tender ardour, she was filled with exultant calm. She was not usually one for staring hopelessly out of windows, but it was a beautiful day, the sky tinted with the mellow shades of clouds.
She turned away and slipped out of the room. Normally, she preferred to wait until she looked a little more modest before emerging, but today the pretense seemed a little silly. The only people to see her where Lucy and a few servants.
She fulfilled her morning ritual by doing what she did first of all every day – check for any letters from Jonathan. Nothing. There was only a letter from Lucy's parents, who were currently holidaying in France and a letter to Lucy from Arthur Holmwood. There wasn't a single word from Jonathan, or even any words of Jonathan, not from his firm, his family, anyone. Worry washed over her. Something was wrong; she knew it. What was happening to him? It was too terrible for words.
She pushed the thoughts out of her mind as she walked up to Lucy's chamber, trying to look cheerful for the sake of her ailing friend. As she walked in, she noticed that Lucy was asleep and placed the two letter on Lucy's dressing-table.
Mina decided to take this moment to take a proper look at her friend. She appeared to have regained a lot of colour but her skin was still a touch sallow and greyed, and her normally vibrantly red hair looked thin and flat. Mina narrowed her eyes. Lucy looked all but recovered, but there was something out of place about her...almost as if a shadow had passed over her, as if something was missing. Something seemed slightly changed about her. Mina deliberated about whether or not to wake her friend (after all, perhaps Lucy needed her sleep) but then decided in its favour and lightly touched Lucy's shoulder and moved her a little.
"Lucy..." she said, gently but firmly. "You have some letters. Lucy...Lucy? Lucy can you hear me? It is time to wake up."
With a hazed groan, Lucy's eyelids fluttered lazily before opening, taking a while to focus. The moment her eyes opened, it was clear that today Lucy was much more like her old self. Her easy, friendly smile and glittering blue eyes revealed a young woman in love with life and determined to enjoy every last drop of it. Mina noticed however, that her friend's eyes were slightly red-rimmed.
Then Lucy let herself wake properly and noticed that Mina was there, hovering over her, looking concerned. She gave a warm, tired smile.
"Good morning, Mina..." she said with a yawn.
Mina smiled in return. "Good morning, Lucy."
"What time is it?" she asked, her voice strained but retaining its rich, musical lilt.
"Only just past seven, Lucy."
"Oh Mina! You woke me far too soon!" Lucy cried out tiredly, burying her head under a pillow.
"Lucy!" Mina laughed.
"I think that was very wicked of you, Mina. It was unbelievably awful, you know. A future bride needs her beauty sleep and I need to return to the most wonderful dream I was having about my wedding-night..."
"Lucy!" said Mina, slightly shocked.
"You're impossible." Said Lucy teasingly but playfully.
"Thank goodness!"
Mina scoffed slightly, but with a fond smile. Of all Lucy's friends, she had known Lucy the longest and most likely understood her the best. They had been friends since childhood and had fast remained close companions since – Lucy was able to tolerate Mina's traditionalism better than any other whilst Mina was able to tolerate Lucy's unconventionality better than any other. Lucy was a wonderful friend and a lively influence and her innate honesty and open nature created the deepest admiration in Mina. True, she was a young lady with something of a bawdy tongue, but Mina, unlike even ladies less prim than herself, could appreciate it as another facet of Lucy's lust for life. Mina also knew that behind even the most scandalous flirtation and innuendo, Lucy was a pure and virtuous girl. Of course, men always flocked around her and Lucy – always the greatest believer in passion – welcomed them and from an early age, had had dozens of sweethearts. But she had never acted in a way to disgrace herself and Lucy had always ardently believed that the great love of her life would be the man she chose to marry – and she'd had no shortage of choice.
"Why can't a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble?" Mina fondly remembered Lucy asking her that once, when she was still having great difficulty deciding which one of her three suitors she loved best.
"So, what have you been up to whilst I've been convalescing?" Lucy asked.
Mina considered telling her about her meeting with the strange prince and all the wonderful, marvellous, unbelievable that had taken place in the wake of their meeting, but she couldn't. Somehow, there was something too intimate about it to share. There was something about it so secret, so private, so hers. To talk about it would steal its magic. To talk about him would be to share him. She knew that she had no good reason not to tell Lucy, after all they were best friends and told each other everything, but somehow this was special. It was special because it was hers alone. It belonged to her and was a part of her. She didn't want to reveal it to anyone.
"How are you feeling?" Mina countered, diverting Lucy's interest.
"Flawless! The rest has done me a world of good, Mina – I'm so grateful to have you, my wise friend, always telling me when I'm pushing myself too hard. I would have been lost without your good advice!"
"You seemed so ill after the night of the storm..." Mina said.
"Oh...I've simply been exhausted with excitement about being married, nothing more..."
Lucy's features seemed to cloud and darken, twisted by some evil memory or thought. A kind of excited, erratic terror burned in her eyes and she looked drawn and distant, seeming to pale slightly.
Mina touched her friend's shoulder. "Lucy? What's wrong?"
Lucy snapped her eyes back to Mina, their old light flooding back into them. "Oh, Mina, I'm sorry. I must have been off with the fairies for a moment."
"Are you quite alright?"
"Of course I am! Never better, in fact. You know, I'm utterly refreshed. You're so dramatic."
"Are you certain?" Mina asked.
"Without a doubt. I was only daydreaming. And what a horrid daydream it was!"
But Lucy did not feel healthy. If anything, that one flicker into a world of storms, night, blood and horror left her even more exhausted than before. She was desperately impatient and longed to be out of bed and busy. She would be married soon, and would have all the time in the world to be busy in bed with her darling Arthur! At that moment, Lucy would have given anything to be able to swat away her mysterious malady like a troublesome fly, but it had left a deep imprint on her. An imprint she dared not bring to light. Her memory was so confused – where did the true events of that night end and where did the nightmare begin?
Mina spoke. "Do you want to get out of bed yet?"
Lucy thought for a moment, a battle between a subtle weakness and fiery determination flicking across her fair face. "Yes, yes I would like to be up and about, Mina. I have so much to do, remember? I have to meet with Arthur soon and arrange our wedding! It will be the most lavish, wonderful, beautiful wedding you could ever imagine, Mina – everything will be a tremendous success! And of course Arthur and I will be perfect..."
Mina smiled, despite herself. "Lucy, you're shameless! Have you no humility?"
Deep down, although she battled against letting it show, Lucy's talk of weddings shook Mina. It reawakened all her concerns about Jonathan and his safety. She was sure that there was a reasonable explanation – the most likely scenario was that Jonathan's letters had simply been waylaid on their journey because of all the recent storms. And yet, deep down she was afraid for him.
Lucy frowned childishly. "How chiding you are! Why on earth should I be humble? It's all so utterly, devastatingly romantic. After all, I am marrying Lord Arthur Holmwood, who loves me desperately, and I'm about to be a very happily-married Lady! I'm over the moon, Mina and I love him to pieces! Why should I be anything but shameless about my joy, hm?"
Lucy smiled teasingly, trying to coax a laugh out of Mina, then her eyes opened in horrified shock. "Oh! Oh no! I'm so sorry! How beastly of me! I forgot all about your poor Jonathan! You will forgive me, won't you? I didn't mean to be cruel."
Mina shook her head. "I know. It isn't your fault."
"I feel awful, Mina. I oughtn't have said all those things."
"Don't be silly, Lucy. You have every right to be happy. You don't have to worry over me, I...I can cope with my concerns."
Lucy gave a wan smile. "You're awfully brave."
"I am so very worried..."
"I know, Mina, I know." Lucy said comfortingly.
Mina stood up and nodded at Lucy, giving her friend a weak smile. "I must go. I shouldn't spend half the day in my nightdress – neither should you. I'll meet you when you break your fast. We'll both be feeling much better by then..."
"Are you terribly angry with me?" Lucy asked.
"You know that I'm not." Mina said kindly before taking her leave, feeling sadness wash over her.
As she walked through the grand corridor of Lucy's exquisite home, like a lonely ghost, absorbed in a confused kind of melancholy, Mina was stopped by Sarah Ellis; a maid with a broad face and a thin smile. The maid held a letter in her hand.
"A letter come for you, ma'am." She said quickly, offering the letter.
"Thank you, Ellis." Mina said, almost hesitantly accepting the letter.
As she held it within her small hands, she looked at it almost in a sense of awe. Her first thought had been of Jonathan, the moment she touched the letter, she seemed to suddenly know that it had not come from him. Somehow, she simply knew. She looked at the envelope with an almost innocent curiosity. Who could it be from and why? As she examined the handwriting on the envelope, she knew that it wasn't a hand she recognised. Her mind swam vividly with possibilities – and then, a tiny, wild hope housed itself in her. Cautiously, she opened the letter. It had the appearance of an official invitation. For a moment, she thought that Ellis had made a mistake and that the invitation was in fact for Lucy, not her. Or, if Mina were invited to something, Lucy would naturally be invited also. But then Mina read on, shock and imagination lighting her dark eyes at the words she saw.
Humbly requesting the presence of Miss Mina Murray, Tuesday next, as a guest at an introductory party, Regency Square.
Until we meet again.
- Prince Vlad.