Chapter 89
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 88
Now she’s just being precious. With a chuckle, Quincy puts a kiss on top of her hair and gets the most adorable flustered squeal back for it. Perfect, there’s his opening. “Not just me who liked that kiss earlier, hm?” One more squeal but also a tiny nod. “I don’t understand most any of this dhampir stuff yet, but I will just have to assume that I’m just too tasty to resist.” Hm, to go naughty or not, but if her emotions are as weirdly tinged towards horny as his, then maybe this is a dhampir thing, so let’s try that. “Although, Cycy, I’d appreciate it if you’d restrain yourself to the sucking me dry I’m more accustomed to. One mouthful at a time, please.”
That has her dissolve into incredulous squeaks, but he can see that she’s peeking through her fingers at him, so he gives her his best naughty grin. Only to realize that he has no idea how that looks with fangs or how he can get rid of those again. There has to be a way, she didn’t have them out earlier, either. So right on to the next naughty quip: “Another thing I’d appreciate from you is teaching me how not to be this fanged all the time. Most guys like it less toothy if you know what I’m saying.”
Now she’s smacking at his chest while protesting with more squeaks but oh yes, he heard that little snort, and even better, the smacking means she took her hand away from her face. That allows him to catch it with one of his and kiss it. “Cycy, my beautiful queen of the night, I was just sweet enough to take a bite out of so blame me if you must, but don’t blame yourself. Let’s be in this together. Dhampirs and queens together.”
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Did he just say ‘my’? Did he just nonchalantly declare her his? She searches his face, searches his eyes, his gorgeous lilac eyes, and that fanged smile. He’s so sure of himself. So sure of his place with her… apparently. So sure that she is his and… and, yes, please?
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Well, then, that struck a chord! Phew, could she devour him any more with that hopeful look? Now that’s a whole new level of need, and he’s such a sucker for feeling needed. Okay, breathe, Quincy, think, no, with the brain upstairs! Seriously, what is it with her? She’s a woman. Those don’t do anything for him, but here he is and if she keeps nudging up onto his lap any more, he wonders if he seriously is going to pitch a tent.
Maybe this really is a dhampir thing, and if so, probably only makes it easier on him, so fine. He wanted to seduce the actual noble, seems this is even less of a challenge than he thought before and might be surprisingly fun. Leaning in to kiss her, but only briefly, he’s courting her, not danger, Quincy smiles. “See? Not scared of you one bit. Alas, you may slay me yet with your dhampir wiles. You just might be the only attractive woman I have ever met. I believe you’ve enchanted me not much less than I obviously enchanted you. My beautiful queen makes it easy for me old sinner to understand why you just had to bite me. Won’t you wrap me into your ebony wings and swoop me away so we may enjoy the night together?”
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Darcy feels the blush rise even higher. He… he sounds so dramatic, so much like her romance novels, her stories of actual love, but nothing like… like Gregory even in the beginning, when he was still talking sweetly to her. When Gregory told he how amazing she was, when he showered her with gifts. No, Quincy is talking to her drac, isn’t he? He said it himself, only attractive woman, and Gregory brought him. That… that must mean it’s her drac, not her, he finds attractive, right? Please, please, she wants that so badly. And he claimed her. Said she was ‘his’!
Her drac jumps, finally feeling like it has a place to belong, and she leans up to kiss him hard. “Yes, yes, I will! I won’t hurt you, I promise. I’ll teach you to run with your drac.”
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“Of course you won’t hurt me, you’re my queen, not a monster… ooh, now that’s a pout. Liking to be called a monster, hm? Teaching me how to run with my drac? And wait, you loved the performance, but it had to be without people around. And you have a magical castle with no servants.” Quincy starts laughing, she is far too easy to figure out.
“Queen of the night. That is a monster. Dhampirs come from vampires. Those are seen as monsters. You want your magical castle to be in the enchanted forest, at the top of the cliffs, perched away from observing eyes.” Taking her hand again, he puts another kiss on it, then swings down from the sofa to kneel in front of her, taken by the sense of power he had earlier returning. A monster to fight the grey world with, or maybe even for, him. “I pledge affection to my queen, to the free drac that I shall learn to run along with. May I please join you in the night? Teach me how to be a formidable monster and we shall conquer and overcome all those chains we both have been bound with by humans and the grey world they built.”
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An insurmountable urge to protect Quincy flares up in Darcy’s heart. She can feel her drac howling so very loudly. It wants to wrap itself around him and never let him go. Her mask… her mask is gone, and she didn’t even realize that it has been for however long it’s been since Quincy and her started talking. Really started talking.
They must have been talking drac to drac, and she knows she could never be anything but true with another drac. She doesn’t really have dark wings to wrap around him, at least not while she’s in her human disguise, so she does the closest she can to show him that there is nothing between their dracs, and lets her human throat howl for him with all the emotion her drac has to give.
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Arthur returned to find John in the study, and after a grunt of “You alright?” from John and Arthur nodding a “Yeah,” they settled in back to work in companionable silence. With the door open, in case they’re needed. So, when Darcy’s howl rings out, Arthur is out of his chair and dashing for the music room in moments, and John right behind him. Well, at the start, Arthur outpaces him down the corridor. He only gives the most perfunctory of knocks before yanking the door open to stick his head inside. “Everything okay?”
What he sees is Darcy beaming even while she’s howling, and Quincy is laughing and seems to be trying to sing along, so Arthur lets out a breath and relaxes a bit against the doorway. “Oh, happy howling. So everything is okay? …Um, sorry to interrupt?” He gives them a sheepish look.
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Darcy’s howl is teetering off into a giggle, then a squeal when Quincy gets off his knee and swoops her up into his arms.
He is astounded that he can lift her up, but then again, she’s tiny. “My queen of the night should not get her royal feet dirty where mere mortals tread.”
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Giggling and kicking, Darcy smacks at Quincy, then leans up to kiss his cheek, right when John crashes through the door and freezes at what he’s seeing. He hates his brain for automatically analysing the interaction, noticing the way Darcy is administering that cheek kiss, nothing like what he’s seen her do with Arthur. His heart was pounding from running up the stairs, now it’s pounding from fear because his girl is looking at another man like he wants her to look at him.
And he knows he can do absolutely nothing about it. He’s tried for weeks, months! No, he’s not needed here, and he doesn’t want to see anything more, or anybody to see why his eyes are stinging. Fuck that molly for having a drac!
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“It’s happy howling,” Arthur assures John as he barges past him, but isn’t sure whether he hears- he doesn’t look too happy or relieved? Arthur thinks? And also, Quincy is really… very dramatic. Queen of the night? Not getting her royal feet dirty? What?
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“Yeah, I can tell.” It’s only a grumble as John turns and stalks off.
Darcy looks after him, not sure what’s wrong, did she do something wrong? It must be her, doesn’t it?
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Looking between John and Darcy, Quincy sighs. “That one needs an appreciation circle. Jealous of me to the roof and back.”
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Arthur joins the looking-between-people part, except his includes Quincy. John? Jealous of Quincy? Why, he wonders. He thought John and Darcy were okay again… This is all way too complicated for him, he decides. Which is when his stomach decides to inform him that they skipped lunch with all this excitement. (Well, not Darcy, he supposes, bites back an inappropriate snicker.) “Uh, okay, I’ll just… leave you to it,” he excuses himself awkwardly.
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“Arthur-dear!” Darcy scolds immediately. “I’ve told you several times before that you need to remember to eat. I’m sorry! Oh… and Quincy, mon sang du coeur, you didn’t have any either with the long train ride.”
“Maybe I should just eat you,” Quincy answers with a grin that shows fangs before he giggles. “Can I even chew with these things?”
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“…There was excitement and stuff happening…” Arthur defends himself, sheepishly, looks between them again. “So, um… early tea time?”
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“To the tea room! Or whatever you use in this fancy place,” Quincy declares and that has Darcy giggle again as she gets carried past Arthur, reaches to grab his hand and drag him along.
“That sounds lovely! Arthur can have both our cake. Or do you like sweets? I don’t like sweets, that’s not what a wolf eats!”
Quincy looks at her while he ponders for a moment. “Not the biggest fan, no, terrible for the waistline.”
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It’s very odd to be dragged along by Darcy’s hand while she’s being carried by Quincy- who has really long legs, so Arthur has to scurry a little to keep up. “…We usually use the dining room,” he informs him. “Or the kitchen, if we can’t be bothered to be fancy…” He tilts his head curiously- now they have a second source of dhampir information! “So, are you saying you don’t like the taste of sweet things, or that you like them but don’t eat them?”
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Noticing the way Arthur has to hasten along, Quincy shortens his stride to make it easier on him. “Luckily for me, I don’t like them much, so it’s easy not to eat them. If we’re talking guilty pleasures, that would be cocoa with a bit of chilli, but it’s not as if I could really afford that.”
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“I’m sure the house could make you some!” Arthur offers. “I don’t think we’ve found anything yet that it can’t make?” He looks at Darcy for confirmation. “Hm, and so maybe not liking sweet-tasting things really is a dhampir trait… Sometimes, you are very strange,” he quips in an attempt at a joke.
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Without missing a beat, Quincy pitches his voice into a full sermon tone and mock-defends Darcy. “Mere mortals cannot understand the machinations of the Divine. A queen follows Her own rules, She is the alpha and omega and Her will be done.” Winking at Darcy bursting into giggles again, Quincy thinks he rather has this all figured out. She’s easy. If he can make sure to also stay on his patron’s good side, then he has the household by the short hairs. Just as he likes it. As an additional bonus, the magical castle can make him cocoa? Darcy did nod at Arthur there. Now that is the lap of luxury and that might be worth all this supernatural stuff.
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Quincy’s recitation makes Arthur snicker along with Darcy’s giggles. “Uh, sure… Wait, is she royal or divine now? Aren’t those two different things?”
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“True royalty is a God-given right. At least that’s what they’ve been telling us commoners for as long as they’ve tried to keep us down.” With a huff, Quincy shakes his head. Arthur should know that, it’s not as if he doesn’t scream commoner with every pore. “Good that Darcy is a different kind of royalty. Drac anointed.”
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“I mean, yeah, so they say– but do people really still believe that? It’s 1899- it’s the 20th century in just a few weeks!” Arthur points out, glances at Darcy. “But I guess being drac anointed could make you a… forest god?” He tilts his head, that sounds pretty fitting.
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What the hell?! Now it’s Quincy squeaking and without thinking, throwing with both arms because eep, wolf, sudden wolf!
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Darcy lands on her paws, blinks at the completely startled and befuddled look on Quincy’s face while still wagging her tail. She loves being called a forest god, but the look on Quincy and the way he tries to get the hairs off of himself is just too funny, so she starts laughing without changing back, her drac bouncing around her in delight.
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Arthur snorts and then bursts out laughing at Quincy’s squeak and look of utter shock. “Darcy! You startled him!” To Quincy, he adds: “Shapeshifting powers, remember?” He’s sure he mentioned animal forms…
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After dancing around Arthur, daring to bump her head into his hand and still wagging her tail, she changes back and helps Quincy pull more hairs off himself. “Sorry, sang du coeur, sorry. My drac just really liked what Arthur said and we are dhampirs. This is normal for me… for you. Um, I’m sure you’ll be a very, uh… nice smelling wolf?”
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Arthur gives Darcy a bright smile at hearing she liked what he said. He does make a mental note that Quincy values his image, though. And no, he supposes startled wolf-throwing isn’t part of most people’s desired image. The thought makes him bite back another snicker.
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The look Quincy’s giving her for her words makes Darcy think she didn’t get the words right. She wants him to be comfortable with being a dhampir. It took her so long. She had to struggle to realise that it’s all much better like this, so she wants to protect Quincy, wants to protect him so badly. There’s a hot feeling right at the centre of her chest that she’s never had before, and she doesn’t know what it is, but she can’t look at him without being hopeful, so she tries again. For once, she’s not scared to get it wrong. For him, she can dare. “You’ll be a strong wolf. Teeth around the grey world. Around the chains of humanity.”
That seems better, he still looks a bit sceptical but there’s a smile tugging on his lips before he flicks her against the nose. “Don’t do that again. You startled me and that’s not good for my image.”
“I won’t. I’ll make it up to you.” Darcy beams, then, with ease, sweeps Quincy up. Only for him to flick her even harder, with a hiss.
“Ask first!”
She sets him down, confused and starting to feel unsure. He did it with her. She thought it was fine. She doesn’t want to be bad.
“You’re not bad, Cycy. Just… what did I just say about image? Hey, chin up, I just don’t like to be taken care of. And what’s that look for now?”
She’s still blinking at him, then looks at Arthur to make sure. “Did I… did I say out loud that I don’t want to be bad?”
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Arthur shakes his head decidedly, gives Quincy a speculative look. “…Mind-reading?” He did just do that vampire research… “Oooh, do you think dhampirs are like vampires, they come in knights and minstrels?” he asks Darcy.
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She’s read about them, yes, and daydreamed about it, too, but her mother is a voivode, she does both. Darcy wasn’t really sure what to expect, but now she’s bouncing. “I do knight things!” Clapping her hands, she turns wolf, then bat, and rat, before looking at Quincy (who is being a real meanie, having taken a step back when she was a rat). “I never looked like that at the thought of looking like my drac! Do you think he’s a minstrel? I can’t do any minstrel things.”
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“Can we discuss this over lunch?” Quincy asks, because oh Divine, nerds, he can see that those two are about to run off on a potentially boring discussion, well, boring if they weren’t talking about what powers he might have.
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“…Yeah, okay, let’s get to the dining room and have some food before we get into it,” Arthur agrees, because Darcy’s enthusiasm is infectious and he doesn’t want to wait, but also he’s hungry… Well, if they’re being no longer all proper and stuff… He offers Darcy a grin. “Race you?”
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Maybe she shouldn’t. She probably shouldn’t. And she’s never done this before. But she’s read about it… and she really wants to. So, after stepping from foot to foot for a moment, she (carefully) slaps Arthur’s shoulder with a loud “Tag, you’re it!” and dashes off.
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Arthur startles in surprise, he didn’t expect that, but… but he’s seen other kids play it and have fun with it and he never got to join them, so he throws Quincy a grin and dashes off after Darcy to try and catch her before she reaches the dining room.
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Are they kidding him? Really? Tag? And where did that weird whisper at the very back of his head just come from? Did it really just go “Chase!”? Maybe that’s this drac thing he’s supposed to have? He refuses to be this level of undignified, or sweating when he doesn’t even get some sex out of it, so no, thank you very much, he’ll walk after these children, ugh.
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Arthur doesn’t manage to quite catch Darcy before she reaches their goal- it’s hard to run full-out in the corridors because he has to get around the corners and down the stairs and all. And also, Darcy is about as fast as him. Still, he’s laughing when he hurtles through the door, just slows down in time to avoid the chairs and catches the table to get rid of the last of his momentum. “That was fun!”
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Darcy doesn’t have Arthur’s grace and just lets herself tumble right over a chair, brings it down with her as she crashes to a stop, laughing loudly. She ends up wiggling her butt because she just really, really wants to wag her tail. Ever since London, she just felt better about her drac, closer to it, and it’s been stronger, bolder, and now she has Quincy. Another drac. She could kiss the sky! “So much fun! I think we lost our minstrel though. I mean, uh, minstrels probably aren’t so good with running. Only two paws, that’s hard.”
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“…We only had two paws right now,” Arthur points out, but nods. “Yeah, if that’s how it works and if he is a minstrel, I don’t think the physical stuff like running and being strong is his thing.” He goes to poke his head out the door and can hear Quincy’s steps coming down the stairs, so he returns to the table, hops onto his usual chair. “But yes, um… maybe we should do that more often?” he suggests, now feels shy. “Hannibal likes playing catch, too. And, well, we did that training session that turned more into playing, too… and Dr Seward said playing was okay, so…”
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Having put the chair upright again and climbed into it, Darcy walks two fingers over the table and pouts. “No… no, that wasn’t two paws. I have my drac. It’s right here. See, paws.” She sticks her hands out and wags them like she was running on them. “It feels the same. I don’t know why but… but for the last few days, it’s just been feeling so close. It’s always close, I mean.” Hugging herself, she hushes her drac, murmurs to it that no, of course they are close. (Yes, out loud, too.)
“But freer maybe? Like after the visions. I just knew it’s there, really there. Maybe it’s because I can see Quincy’s now? Papa would know, he always does. Or he could come up with ways to find out. I miss him. And he said playing is good, he always played with me, so, um, thank you for playing tag with me.”
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“You’re welcome,” Arthur says, “um, thanks for playing tag with me, too? I never got to play tag before… And, uh… I guess it’s good that your drac is freer? Maybe it has to do with Quincy, yeah… Or maybe it’s just that you’re learning more about it? Getting to know it better? Like… having more practise with it?” he suggests. Her observation that running on two feet is like running on four paws because her drac is there doesn’t make much sense to him, but he decides that’s probably just a dhampir thing.
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Giggling, she smiles at him. “You run fast, no wonder they never let you play! But yes, I’m getting lots of drac practice. John is so good about that. I haven’t even flown into a tree in a bit now!” Tilting her head, she raises her voice and lets Quincy know which way they are.
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Quincy joins the other two a moment after Darcy’s call, and makes a point out of being elegant when sitting down, right next to Darcy, because obviously that’s his spot.
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It had never occurred to Arthur that the reason the other kids didn’t want to play with him might be because he’d be… too good at the game? And he doesn’t really think that was it, anyway, but still. There’s something nice about the thought. He laughs at Darcy’s observation that she hasn’t flown into any trees lately, nods his welcome at Quincy, and then asks the house for some soup and sandwiches for himself to start out with. He does like cake, but what with missing lunch, he feels like something more substantial first. And, well, Dr Seward did do that talk about a proper diet.
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Quincy observes what Arthur just did, then pretends there’s an invisible waiter and puts in a detailed order for a complex salad. He’s not really treated himself like this in a while, and it’s winter, the salads you can get right now are watery at best, so he didn’t even bother when Cobb took him out. But this looks good! “So, what was that about… minstrels and knights, if I heard it right?”
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Arthur nods as he chews his bite and swallows. “Yes. More powerful vampires come in… two flavours, sort of?” He pulls out his notebook to consult and make sure he’s getting it right. “Knights: More ‘bestial’ powers,” he makes sure to include the proper air quotes, because always these judgy vampire books… “like strength, speed, shapeshifting. Minstrels: more social powers like charm, mind-control, manipulation.”
He gives a vague wave of his hand. “I’m not sure what they mean with ‘manipulation’, that could be them being judgy again. But if you really read Darcy’s mind, then that sounds like a minstrel power. …That would mean no shapeshifting for you, after all, though,” he adds as he realizes that. “I’m sorry?” he offers.
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“Oh thank the Divine, I don’t need to be a fleabag!” Quincy exhales in relief, waves Darcy’s pout away. “You be whatever fits best for my queen of the night, goddess of the woods, monster of my dreams. I’ll be one of those minstrels, charm and being social is much more my forte.” He spins his fork around his fingers for full effect then winks to appease Darcy.