Tag! (that's German for 'hi,' not the game) I hope everyone's week was nice, mine was, well… bleh. Your reviews were so, so helpful when I was feeling crappy, so an extra thank you to everyone! I got to babysit twice this week – an adorable little six-month-old named Jacob. He loves me. -happy sigh- I want to keep him. My muse decided to do something useful also, like help me write, so I'm feeling like my writing is coming along pretty good now. Next chapter is a crucial one, and I'm excited to write it.
I want to give a very, VERY special thank you to Anon E. Mouse for all the wonderful reviews and insightful and hilarious talks. In fact, you know what… I hereby dedicate this chapter and the next ('cause I like the next better) to you, AEM! I wish I could give you the second place Dracula takes Sophia in this chapter. It would be amazing. Heck, I wish I could give you Vladdykins, but I don't really -cough- own him. So this and the next chapter will have to suffice…
(NOTE: this chapter has some 'historical' stuff in it. I take creative license here, and if I, being the historical geek that I am, can get over it (write it?), I think you can survive. Remember this is fanfiction, and even the movie wasn't historically accurate (with MANY things). So, no flame me, k?)
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Dracula hadn't felt like he did now in years – a sly, scheming adolescent with nothing better to do (although being born a Prince, he always did have something better to do). He was going room to room in the east wing, looking for Sophia. It reminded him of a game of hide-and-seek, only whom he was seeking didn't know she was hiding at all. He cracked a door to a spare room and saw one of the maids cleaning.
"Pardon me," he interrupted. The woman immediately spun around but didn't get a curtsy in before he spoke again. "Have you seen the Lady Sophia about of late?"
The girl shook her head and answered, "No, m'lord."
Sighing with obvious disappointment, he left the stunned maid to her cleaning again and continued down the hall. This was getting frustrating. He had already asked a handful of maids and servants and every one of them said they hadn't seen her. Where could she be?
He peaked his head into yet another sitting room, to his relief he found Mary sitting on one of the couches – where she was, Sophia would be. And a quick glance around the room told him his theory was correct, for there Sophia was, well absorbed in a bookshelf before her. Quietly, he stepped into the room, catching Mary's attention. She opened her mouth to offer him respects, but he put a finger to his lips, effectively silencing her.
The young servant watched in curiosity and amusement as he stole softly into the room. He had a rarely seen devious sparkle in his eyes and a crooked smile across his face, not to mention watching him practically tiptoe into the room in heavy boots was comical. With barely a sound, he closed in on Sophia, who had not a clue he was there. He reached out gingerly and pressed two fingers into the small of her back, swiftly running them up her spine.
Sophia yelped and could have hit the ceiling in surprise but for her reflexes that spun her around. He just started laughing, the sound rolling from his throat.
"Oh, you scared me to death!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest and breathing heavy.
He regained his composure fast but still had the smuggest grin on his face. "I have been looking for you. You are quite the hard one to find," he said, chuckling. "I wanted to show you a few special rooms I think you will enjoy the use of… but under the conditions: no more formalities between us–"
"But…" Sophia started.
"No 'but's," he said, raising a hand. "I insist upon it."
"All right," Sophia grumbled in defeat.
"And you mustn't use a title with me anymore; you must call me by my name… Vladislaus."
Sophia's eyes widened. "Oh no, I couldn't do that… that would be… I don't know… I just…" She exhaled, blowing a strand of hair out of her face and recovered her train of thought. "I just wouldn't feel comfortable with that," she replied softly.
Now it was his turn to admit defeat; he had said he wouldn't force her into anything she didn't want to do… and it seemed this was one of them. Yet, he was disappointed. He had figured by letting her call him by his first name, it would have been less distant and more personal than a formal address.
"I will respect your wishes then…" he said, his smile turning even smugger, "but one day you willuse my first name."
"So be it," she said, tilting her head charmingly, a full smile coming to her dainty mouth, her honey-brown eyes glistening. She looked the picture of health since she woke up… and a stunning picture she was.
Dracula held out his arm for her to take, which she did straight away, and he led her out of the room. She gave a passing wave to Mary as they left, mouthing the words "see you later."
"So what exactly are these rooms?" she asked, as they strode down the halls. She could tell the eagerness in his step, because what was a slightly quicker pace for him was much quicker for her.
"You'll have to wait and see," was his simple reply.
"Are they in the east wing?" she asked, wondering if she had perchance already seen them.
"No," he answered, glancing over at her. She opened her mouth as if to say something but before she got any chance, he spoke up, "You like asking questions, don't you?"
She laughed aloud. "I guess so," she said. "Do you want me to stop?"
"Frankly, I don't care because it is a surprise and I am not going to tell you," he said, smirking down at her.
"Hmph," she snorted, rather unladylike.
"Trust me… it is worth it," he told her, smirking knowingly.
With that said Sophia became silent. She looked at passing things in the halls they were going through, always finding something interesting, whether it be a tapestry, a painting, or some form of a sculpture but she was battling an inward struggle of purposely not looking at him. Part of her really wanted to study him, to soak in every aspect of his features and mannerisms, yet she wouldn't dare because she was scared of being caught and how embarrassing such a thing would be.
"How much further is it?" she asked, pushing her other thoughts aside.
"Not far," he answered. "Do you know where we are?"
"No."
"The north wing… my side of the castle," he told her, glancing her way for her reaction – she didn't appear daunted. That was good.
A couple more halls and a few more minutes then he stopped.
"Here we are," he said and turned to Sophia. "Do you trust me?"
"Uh… yes," was her hesitant answer.
"Then don't be alarmed," he said, taking his place by her side. Lifting his right hand, he covered her eyes and then put his left hand on her lower back, and led her carefully into the room. "Don't you dare try and peek," he warned her in a playful tone.
"I won't," she assured him. Her heart was racing wildly, in anticipation and the notion that she was blindly putting her trust in him… but mostly it was because he was so close to her, with one rough hand brushing the sensitive skin of her face and his other pressed to her lower back. She could swear she felt his body heat, carrying that aura of his that swirled around her giving her a sensory overload.
"Open your eyes," he breathed into her ear, removing his hand.
Her eyelids lifted, unveiling the room to her. She gasped in awe.
She stood in the middle of the most wondrous room she had ever seen. In fact, it didn't even look like a room at all. There were plants, flowers, vines, and small trees everywhere. It must have been on one of the outer edges of the castle because two walls were almost completely made up of windows, going from near the floor to the ceiling, allowing lots of natural light to stream in. The floor was of colored stone, fitting together perfectly, to make up a narrow path around the huge room.
"What is it?" Sophia asked breathlessly.
"A greenhouse," he said, watching with swelling pride that he had guessed right on what she would love. "I'm taking that you haven't seen one…"
"No," she said, moving over to climbing vines on a small trellis and curling them around her finger with delicacy and loving care. She turned back to him, grinning broadly. "It's wonderful."
He leaned back against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "I am glad you think so… because it is yours."
Sophia's eyes widened. "Mine? As in everything in here?" she asked in disbelief.
"Yes, everything… and anything else you would like. I'm sure anything else you pick would make it more wonderful."
"Oh, is it possible to make it any more beautiful than it is?" she asked rhetorically, turning circles to take everything in.
"I'm very sure you could find something. Go take a look around," he said, and watched her with rapt interest as she moved further into the room discovering all of foliage and flora. He knew she was of a gentle disposition but he had never seen her quite like this. The smile that was curved on her lips, he had never seen before – it was of an inner joy. The color in her face was soft and glowing and her eyes glittered like pure gold. She walked though the flowers, touching their petals every now and then, before stopping at a pink rosebush. Tenderly, she cupped a rose in her hand, bending her head down to take in the sweet, pungent fragrance. Her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled and he secretly found himself wishing – again – that he could wrap his arms around her and seal her lips in a fervent kiss.
"Roses are my favorite," Sophia said, startling him out of his reverie but she hadn't even looked away from the flower.
"They are most women's," he stated matter-of-factly.
"But unlike most women I don't care for the way they look, I think there are other flowers more pretty, and although the smell is amazing, it's not why they are my favorite. Do you want to know why they are?"
Because they symbolize love or maturity into womanhood, was his well-read guess but he just said, "Tell me."
Sophia closed her eyes as if in a long past memory. "My mother had a small bottle of perfume she's always kept safe in a drawer; it was the most expensive thing she owned. She would only wear it on special occasions, but sometimes she would take it out and let me take a smell of it… it was made of rose oil."
Dracula couldn't tell if she had pain written on her face or was just recollecting. When she opened her eyes though, he knew it was pain. She still missed her family.
"Would you care for me to show you the last thing?" he asked, hoping to take away her despair before it turned to tears.
"Sure," she said, nodding.
They left the indoor greenhouse, going down the halls once again. The room wasn't far down from where they were since it was already in the north wing.
"Ready?" said Dracula, placing his hand on the doorknob. Sophia nodded and he opened the door, allowing her to enter first.
Once inside, Sophia stood in awe in the room that was just as amazing as the other… only different. It was a huge study or library. On her left and right, straight in front of her, were two rows of tall, completely filled bookshelves. They looked about ten feet in height but were nothing compared to the high vaulted ceiling above, which could have easily been fifteen or more feet up. She went to one of the shelves and ran her fingers over the books' spines – new and worn, dark and light, titled and plain.
"What are they about?" she asked the Prince who had been quietly observing.
"Histories, military conquests and battle strategies, philosophy, religion, the arts, sciences, astronomy, medicine, trade routes, cartography, and just about anything that is worthy to put on paper is here," he told her, pressing his fingers together in a steeple form and pacing the room with leisure, while proudly admiring his very own vast library.
"Oh," Sophia uttered, then gave it a moment's thought prior to speaking again, "Is that all?"
Dracula stopped short in his strides, the arrogant smirk dying on his lips, and his hands nearly falling to his sides. "What do you mean?" he asked. Surely, she didn't think that his library was… lacking.
"None of that sounds interesting to read about to me," she said, making a face. "There aren't any… stories?"
He chuckled slightly at her charming simplicity but was also glad that she wasn't criticizing his well-prized collection of books.
"What?" she asked, flushing because she thought he was laughing at her.
"I don't think you will find many 'stories' as in lighthearted and carefree tales among these books, my dear," he said with amusement, not even realizing the doting names he was using on her. "You might find some pagan mythology to your liking though. It appears in history both the Greek and the Romans thoroughly enjoyed their amorous tales of lovers' passions, betrayals, and killings… I never cared for the like."
"What do you like reading?" Sophia questioned.
"I usually read what is most beneficial – military stratagem and histories of other countries," he answered, a thoughtful crease across his brow and a fixed look in his eye, "but if I'm reading for interests, I much prefer philosophy or studying the arts."
It was true…but many people didn't see or even care to see that side of him. The side that was deeper than battles, wars, punishment and ruling. The side that had a taste for music, art, poetry and the works of Aristotle, Plato, Socrates and other famous philosophers. He enjoyed the calming he got from the arts and the level of stretching that philosophy gave his brain. Yet, those weren't the things that brought glory and honor. It all boiled down to balance. Finding the measure between his happiness and what people expected.
"How many of these have you read?" Sophia asked, as she moved down the black, weaved rug that ran between the two rows of bookshelves.
"Almost all," said Dracula proudly, following a little ways behind her.
She reached the end of the rug and the end of the shelves, leaving her standing before a rectangular table that was horizontal to her position. Close behind it was an enormous fireplace; the marble mantel surrounding it was carved intricately and at both top corners, there were dragons – the family emblem, once more. Above the mantel was a painting, a portrait to be in fact.
The man in it was Vlad II or Vlad Dracul.
Sophia stepped around the table and craned her neck to see the larger-than-life oil painting.
"My father," Dracula noted dryly, clasping his hands behind his back and gazing up at it.
Slowly, Sophia turned back and looked at him, then at the portrait, then back him. This caught Dracula's attention.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"You don't really look like him," Sophia commented, her scrutinizing gaze still going back and forth.
"Many people say I don't. They could never find much resemblance to my father in me, more of my mother, but little of my father… something they had fretted over when I was a child," he said, his lip curling in disgust at recollecting the memories and his eyes flashed with anger. "There were always those rumors that I was illegitimate, none of which are true of course. My mother would have never done such a thing and that my father knew."
"I don't think it matters that much," Sophia said, deciding to refrain from saying that she thought he was ten times more handsome than his father.
"It does to some," he said, closing his eyes and shaking the thoughts out of his head; he needed to explain why they were here. "Sophia, do have any idea why I showed you to this library today?"
She shook her head, her light brown waves brushing her cheeks.
"I had originally planned to get you a tutor in reading and writing for once a week, but decided that it might be more beneficial to us—you, if I was your tutor," he said, awaiting her response.
"You?" Sophia said, blinking.
"Yes," he replied. "Would you prefer it differently?"
"I suppose not," she spoke, wondering what it would be like with him as her teacher.
"Very well," he said.
Sophia watched him with curiosity as he strode over to one of the shelves and picked up a stack of books, then brought them back to the table and dropped them on it with a loud 'thud.' He then pulled out a chair and motioned her to sit.
"Let us begin," he said.
He didn't mean for them to start at that very moment… did he?
The azure in his eyes seemed to dance and a much too eager smile formed on his mouth.
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Well, Sophia, I actually think he does. xP He's trying so hard to redeem himself – "Your favorite thing is outside, right? Oh, good. Here's a garden… at my end of the castle. But that's not important. Heh. -ahem-" No, really, he is trying.
lotr5016: You are most welcome. Did you get my email? I hope so. Feel free to email me, I don't mind at all. Maybe we can get all fangirly and talk about how droolworthy Dracula is together. xD
My muse commands that you review. You wouldn't want to make the muse angry.