Chapter 102
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 101
It’s not exactly a comfortable dinner, what with Gregory saying he’s not hungry and instead pacing around the kitchen until Quincy snaps at him to sit down. Arthur thinks maybe the house is trying to cheer him up, because it gives him a bowl of thick, warm stew, but good food isn’t quite enough to take his mind off of the fact that they’re waiting for not just any vampire, but the one Art and Dr Seward had a bad encounter with already, while Darcy is with another one who’s apparently insane, of all things.
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This has to be the longest dinner of his life, and Quincy’s not even eating much. This lack of appetite is going to come in handy back on the streets, because that has to be where he ends up again, right? There’s no way he can still go on tour with Basarab. If that ever even was real, if that guy didn’t just lie about the entire troupe and travel. His father… He still doesn’t want to believe it. Quincy is glad when he can stop shoving the piece of carrot all over the plate because Arthur finally is done with his meal, too.
And of course, first he had to hiss to get Cobb to sit down, now he has to take his hand and drag him for him to come along again.
At least when they get back into the library, Quincy has something to chuckle about. Looks like his mother noticed Blondie getting flustered by her, too, and is milking it for all it’s worth. Come to think of it, she always was the smartest, most sensible, and opportunity-aware person he knew, but he’s not sure she would have toyed like this with any guy while Harker was around.
Did he… well, maybe he is his mother’s son more than he thought before, or rather, still is, now that he knows that Harker isn’t actually his father, and that is just about the only thing he likes about this whole fiasco.
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And there John thought the time just standing over Mrs Harker was bad and made him fidget. Fuck that, it gets worse when Arthur, Gregory, and Molly are done with dinner. Although, he has to hand it to Quincy, he’s trying to be agreeable again, he’s trying to distract them all with some small talk. But who does he think he’s fooling? John can read the frantically pacing drac underneath there. Then again, maybe he’s the only one. Arthur can’t read people for shit and Gregory, eh, nobody home upstairs there. So fine, he plays along and does some drac herding.
Still, he is just about ready to whoop when the doorbell chimes. Anything has to be better than that tight atmosphere of just twiddling their thumbs. And going by that smile on Mrs Harker, (he is pretty sure that dimple indicates a real smile,) she is convinced that’s her husband. She’s up before anybody else, too, so here is to being on bodyguard duty. He kind of likes this hovering at her shoulder and her giving him a short thanks for it. It makes him feel validated and he fucking needs that, with all his worries about Darcy, of course, going to pick a vampire rake over him.
Fuck… when Mrs Harker opens the door, John finds his brain, unbidden, giving him the thought that he has absolutely no chance, the man’s built like a bull and with a moustache to murder for! Only then does he catch up that this would be the other one. But then again, shouldn’t his brother look similar? He’s so fucked… Pushing his flaring jealousy and worry aside, he finally focuses on the important part: Darcy’s unmoving form in one of the man’s arms. He barrels forward, nearly shoves at Mrs Harker, but he just has to get to his girl.
Thank fuck, she’s breathing! And dressed, too, still the same clothes from earlier, not even any blood on them. Maybe he was worrying too much about what she’d get up to with the guy?
The vampire in front of him gives him an approving look at his reaction and eagerness to see to Darcy, in either case, delivers her into his arms with a reassurance that his wife is physically unharmed.
That’s not the hint of a blush, that’s fire on John’s cheeks, and if he didn’t suddenly have both hands full of unconscious Darcy, he’d have an irresistible urge to rub his neck and stick a hand in his pocket and what the fuck does he answer to that? But… didn’t his girl say she would marry him if she could? Didn’t she declare him official affair only this morning? So rather than looking away or correcting it outright, he focuses on what’s important, his girl.
This close up, she seems more asleep than unconscious and that’s his sphere of expertise, even while he, as carefully as he can, starts carrying her… uh, to where? “You said physically unharmed. Can she wake up? Should she wake up?”
After a short discussion between Mrs Harker, or should that actually be Mrs Basarab?, and her husband, the man advises that given her earlier behaviour, it may be wise to keep her sedated until they have a better plan. He apologizes but his mindcraft is nowhere as strong as his brother’s, she would need to be close to him for him to be able to keep her safely asleep.
John shakes his head, no, he got his girl, he’ll bring her to her room and keep her safe in her dreams.
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Quincy feels decidedly like a child with how he is lurking around the corner, but everything in him is screaming to flee, to get away, because Divine, no, it’s really Basarab at the door. And worse than that is that little discussion he can’t even hear from here. He’s not blind or stupid. And he realises he’s never seen his mother in love before, but they couldn’t be more obvious if they tried!
They supposedly haven’t been interacting for years but it’s so… so natural. The way Basarab inclines his head to listen with his entire being to every word his mother says, the tilt of his mother’s body towards and into the presence of the man. They are standing there in their own little bubble of complete sync, of a caring familiarity and mutual respect that cuts Quincy to the heart.
He wanted that. He said he won’t give up until he sees it himself… Well, it’s more than obvious. That man is heart and soul his mother’s. And he feels like dying inside.
Hope dies last, they say, but what do you do when hope is dead? If it’s the last thing to die, there’s nothing left, and that’s exactly how he feels right now. Hollow.
And that’s far too similar to the complete lack of emotional reaction he had to Harker’s death, far too similar to the grey world he tries to fight against. But right now he’s not sure if he has a flame to hold up against it. No… no! He can’t do this! He can’t!
And then Blondie veers off. No, he can’t take Cycy away, too!
She… she… made him feel something earlier, made him shake head to toe and it bloody sucked, but everything is better than that hollow feeling, so he dashes out from behind the corner, ignores his mother trying to pull him in to properly introduce him to his father, worse, ignores the hopeful look on Basarab’s face, and runs as fast as he can towards Cycy’s room.
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Arthur sees Quincy take off, hears his footsteps speeding along the corridor and up the stairs, and is at the door himself in a flash to see what’s wrong, what set him off. But as he pokes his head out, all he sees is everyone else still in the corridor, John with Darcy in his arms walking towards the stairs, Mrs Harker and, yes, Mr Basarab by the door, and as best as he can tell, they’re all looking after Quincy with some puzzlement.
Seeing Darcy, and the fact that Mr Basarab looks kind of just the same as the last time he saw him- a bit intimidating but not angry or cold or anything- Arthur dares to make his way out into the hall and towards them. “Is, um… is she alright?”
“Mr Lancaster.” Mr Basarab inclines his head in greeting, although his eyes linger for a moment in the direction Quincy took off, before he focuses back on Arthur. “The young lady is physically unharmed. As to her mind, I am afraid that my brother has enthralled her. I was not fast enough to prevent it. My deepest apologies.”
This is so weird, meeting Mr Basarab again when Arthur knows he’s a vampire and he knows Arthur knows he’s a vampire, and Arthur isn’t sure how he’s supposed to act in this situation, so he only nods back in greeting. Also because it’d be polite to invite him in, but he’s a vampire, and Arthur isn’t sure about inviting a vampire in. Sure, Mrs Harker trusts him, and implied heavily that she wouldn’t if he meant any harm to Lucy, and presumably her son, but does she care about him and John and Darcy? He can’t tell, he doesn’t know.
So instead, he asks: “Enthralled?” That doesn’t sound good… “What does that mean?”
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Noticing the hesitation, Vlad bows a bit deeper. “May I suggest that we discuss this not in the open door? I’m afraid I have an old invitation to this home, but I applaud your precaution as to not inviting me in.” Truth be told, Vlad feels strange about being back at Rossmore Castle. His memories of the place are far from positive, but he can deal with that later, once his family is safe. His family, which appears to include a granddaughter he never knew about.
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Arthur blushes a little, but apparently Mr Basarab isn’t offended, so he nods and makes a questioning sort of gesture towards the library door, looks at Mrs Harker to see if she has any other ideas.
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Mina’s idea about that is to put herself on Vlad’s arm and to walk back towards the library. Vlad can only do his best not to beam from ear to ear, but he’s making sure to not let that show as he walks her over to what he would definitely deem the most comfortable room for him, not that he has been in the library upon his last visit.
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Arthur settles himself back in his seat, a bit warily, after Mrs Harker (…is she going to change her name? he wonders,) walks Mr Basarab to the sofa across the coffee table and takes a seat with him.
This is very strange. Arthur thought a powerful vampire should somehow… be more instinctively terrifying to be in the same room with. And it’s not that he’s not aware that Mr Basarab is dangerous, or that he isn’t intimidating. But it’s… well, it’s not any worse than it was when Arthur didn’t know he was a vampire. He still seems like… just a man. He really doesn’t get why vampire hunters are so… superstitious about vampires.
And also… why is he the only one here? Where did Gregory go? And when? Arthur takes a breath and sits up a bit straighter- If he’s the one who has to handle this conversation and get the answers they need, well, then he’ll do it! “So, um, what was this ‘enthrallment’?”
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Only after he has settled Mina into a chair does Vlad take one himself, steeples his fingers with a sigh and begins to explain. “A more permanent form of mindcraft. Apologies, you likely think of it as mind control. It involves having exchanged blood in unequal amounts thrice. It is a perversion of a way two vampires open up their hearts and minds to each other. The young lady will feel emotionally tied to my brother, believe herself in love even.”
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Arthur shudders. “I read about something like that…” The idea still freaks him out. Being forced to care for someone you wouldn’t normally, someone who doesn’t have your best interests at heart, being forced to ignore any warning signs… Being made to feel like you’re in love, even? He can’t imagine anything much worse, and only a few things as bad- it’s such a deep violation.
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“My brother…” Vlad falters, looks down, and tries to sort his words. He knows only too well that he likely will make it worse, no matter what he says, that is what he always does where it concerns his brother.
Nevertheless, he has to try. “He has a feud with me. I am afraid it is my fault that the young lady has gotten involved. Please let me assist in any way I can to undo what damage can be undone. By the time I found where he had taken her, he had fled already.”
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Mina puts her hand on his arm, she can read, and even feel deep in their connection, how troubled her husband is about this. Being so close to him again, she is reminded of why she was willing to wait for him, why she plotted with him in the past. There really is no comparison to how much stronger he makes her emotions bloom. But it means she feels his emotions stronger, too, and wants to shield them. His emotions are precious and they are hers. “I am certain you tried your best, and given how worried you clearly are about his powers, I doubt a direct confrontation would have been in Darcy’s best interest. More importantly, what can we do to break his hold on her?”
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Arthur bites back a groan, because: Getting stuck in a feud between two powerful vampires is exactly where he didn’t want to be. But yes, more important is what they can do about it, so he gets his notebook ready and waits for the answer.
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Taking several long moments to search his memory, Vlad finally shakes his head. “I’m sorry, the only knowledge of enthrallment I possess are our laws. None of which even apply to the young lady. I will have to return to the Midnight Court and research. Which well might be part of my brother’s plan, having me seen doing that. The timing is horrible.”
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That makes Arthur frown. “Uh… why?” Also, Midnight Court? Didn’t the hunter books have some mentions of rumours about some vampire court? Were they actually right about that?
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“Because we are only weeks away from the biggest political event in fifty years.” Putting his steepled fingers to his brow instead, Vlad exhales. Of course his brother would try to interfere with the election. Vlad isn’t known to mainly be an absentee Principe for no reason. He had counted on it, prioritised his son’s safety over politics.
Politics he is so tired of.
He had little interest in being voted Principe in 1850, he has even less interest in being elected a third time. His eagerness for it centuries ago leaves an ashen taste in his mouth. He only grabbed for power again in 1800 to end a war. There is no war now. Only the endless squabbling of immortals who amuse themselves with infighting and gossip because they know there will be another war should they bring their power machinations to the rest of the world too aggressively again.
He is so very tired of it all. He just wanted his family back, at least his son, where he could not have his wife yet. But not even with the ruse he could accomplish that one little thing. No, again, his bad luck threw it over… bad luck or bad karma or God punishing him for the many sins of his life. He can take his pick of which explanation he finds less comforting any day.
For right now though, he may be playing right into his brother’s scheming, but he still has to help his grandchild. “Me being seen looking into such a problematic topic might well play into whichever rumours my political enemies are trying to use against me. But we have little choice. He called her once and she followed. How many encounters has she had before today?”
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There’s really not much Arthur likes less than politics. “Um, one for sure, and another one we, or, well, I, I guess, was suspicious of- he took her memories away, so she couldn’t really tell us if anything happened. But you said something about it needing three times of the blood sharing for an enthrallment…?” Arthur asks,
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With a heavy sigh, Vlad nods. This is worse than he feared. “Three times, but it sounds to me as if what she did tonight was before he finished the enthrallment. She acted like that before he fully bound her. In your estimation, how safe would it be to let her wake up now that the enthrallment is fully settled into her mind? It pains me, but I am not convinced we can leave the decision to her. It seemed that her husband was willing and able to hold her mind safe.”
At hearing Mina chuckle, he turns his attention to her, then suppresses showing any of the emotional reaction he has at being informed that he jumped to the wrong conclusion there, instead he merely corrects himself. “Her lover.”
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Arthur’s just not going to comment on any of that; it’s none of his business. He’d rather think about practical things, bites his lips. “I… I’m not sure,” he admits. “I don’t know how long John can keep that up. But also…” He stares at the coffee table, unseeing, for a moment. “But also, Darcy wouldn’t hurt any of us, not on purpose, not of her own free will. So if she did that when she wasn’t even fully enthralled…”
He’s never really considered Darcy’s abilities from the side of an opponent before. “Um. She’s fast and strong and really good at shapeshifting, if she decides to attack again… I don’t know how we’d stop her without either us or her getting really hurt…”
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This is really not the right moment to feel a swelling of pride about his grandchild’s knightly prowess, but Vlad feels it anyway. Outwardly, he nods at Arthur. “Time is of the essence then. I shall return to the Court.” Vlad finds Mina’s hand on his and there is another emotion stirring, he still remembers how it has been all these years ago, he still remembers how they are bound together, his emotions open to her, so he is not surprised that she knows that he is troubled.
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“You will, after I have dragged our son back down here. He always has a tendency to flee when he feels powerless. He deserves and needs an explanation as to why his life has led him here.” Squeezing Vlad’s hand, she gets up and inquires with Arthur where the closest access to the roof is.
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The roof? The only one Arthur knows is the one that leads to the top of the tower where he burnt the costume (He remembers Darcy being there with him, encouraging him so much- does she remember that now? Does it mean anything different with her being enthralled to the vampire?), so he tells Mrs Harker about that, but also offers that the house can probably show her the way?
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Despite the wrinkled nose, Mina accepts the suggestion. While she has played in this house long before Arthur ever set foot in it, she feels it has shifted, something about it seems possessed and no longer welcoming. It is no longer Lucy’s, and with that, it is no longer hers. The way the house guides her has her shiver and hold her head high, but to her own surprise, it is not the roof but the master bedroom she is being led to.
For a moment, she remembers Lucy’s grossed-out laughter when, after her father’s death, her mother traded rooms with her and they sat on the bed, wondering if she was made there. The bed is no longer the same and maybe that’s for the best, but the tableau she sees makes her hope for the future.
John, such a lovely young man, reminding her terribly of her husband, is sitting at the head of the bed with Darcy’s sleeping form curled into him. He looks so concentrated with his hands on her temples, too concentrated clearly to mind her own son sitting barely an arm’s length away, both his hands tight around one of Darcy’s.
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Quincy is the only one who startles up when his mother opens the cracked door further. He wishes he didn’t. What he just learned from John is enough to occupy him, (nevermind the power John revealed, the aberration trick he can do.) Quincy has more than enough to digest even just about what to do with Cycy and Cobb. He really doesn’t need anything more.
Especially not from his mother, who stole his hope! He wants to be angry at her, but he can’t. She’s his mother, the only person he ever really trusted. He wants to feel at least betrayed, but all he feels is given up. He wants to throw himself at the problems with Cycy and Cobb. Despite what Darcy did to him, he feels more in control there. He feels like he understands her better.
Does he even know his mother? She lied to him! But her smile at him is genuine, he knows that dimple. And he thinks John is only partially aware of what’s going on around him, it took Quincy talking directly at him for him to react, so he dares to let go of Cycy’s hand and step off the bed. He still doesn’t run to his mother, that would be too embarrassing, but he walks over, shoves her out of the room, but then hugs her tight. It’s okay to be hugged by her if he does it first!
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“Hush, child. Let us explain. He is so worried about you not liking him anymore. You like men with big emotions that you have to coax out of them, don’t you?” Mina soothes. She knows that way he’s clinging to her. So unwilling to admit that he needs to be held, so unwilling to admit that he doesn’t know what to do, so eager to run because he doesn’t feel like he can change anything. That’s her son.
The son she could never have made with Jonathan. He wasn’t man enough to produce a son like this, no, that took Vlad, and she’s so very proud of him. But he needs some support right now, so she uses that she’s long conditioned him to get a feeling of reward from kissing his forehead, and additionally allows him pretend he’s leading her downstairs again by putting herself on his arm.
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Sitting alone with Mr Basarab in Mrs Harker’s absence is very awkward, Arthur finds.
Really very awkward. He has no idea what to talk about.