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rookinthecrownest · 25 days ago

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Bedtime Stories for a Demon, Night 1: The Sleeping Princess (Lucanis x Rook Fanfic)

“Lucanis?”

Some assassin, he thinks bitterly, as Rook’s soft voice breaks him out of his reverie. She finds him sitting at the dining room table, staring at the fire with a cup of now cold coffee in his hands. He didn’t hear her come in.

Caterina would’ve given him at least ten lashes with her cane for letting someone sneak up on him like that.

His mind, lately, was a restless sea. Waves of him and Spite crash over each other, fighting to rise above the din. Fighting for control. And like the moon pushes and pulls the tides at night, Spite’s influence becomes harder to ignore in the waning hours of the evening. Sometimes it was hard to pay attention to anything but Spite rattling the bars of the prison that was Lucanis’ mind.

On most nights he finds himself alone in the pantry, or the dining room, with only a flickering fire and the demon in his head for company. Until a few moments ago that is.

“Rook” he manages a pleasant, tired smile while turning towards her. “You’re up late”

She shrugs and pulls up a chair beside him, now rimmed in the warm orange glow of the fire. “Thought you might want some company – you know, after the whole…” she gestures vaguely in his direction, and he doesn’t need any further elaboration.

He remembers feeling tired, so tired after their last mission. A bone-weariness that only came with the kind of world-ending threats they were becoming entirely too accustomed to handling. Three cups of his strongest brew hadn’t been enough to curb the knife’s edge of sleep deprivation. He remembers sitting upright in his cot and closing his eyes for just a moment. Then, he was in the basement hallway with the Vir’Evas Eluvian, surrounded by Harding, Rook - and the terrible realization that Spite had taken him for a walk.

Perhaps it was his brutal training at the hands of his grandmother, perhaps it was his own stubbornness, but he hated to make them worry. Especially Rook, who already carried the weight of the world on her small shoulders and the voice of an Elven god in her head. Dealing with a sleepwalking abomination was probably the last thing she needed to be worried about.

“I’m fine” he lies, and stares down at his coffee. His grip on the handle of his mug tightens. Rook’s bright green eyes flicker down to his hands, and he knows she doesn’t believe his words any more than he does. “As I said before – Spite is my burden to bear. Please, go get some sleep, Rook”

Her face falls just a little at that.

“Would if I could” she starts, “You won’t sleep, I can’t sleep – I figure we might as well be night owls together. But if I’m bothering you, I’ll go”

He doesn’t know her well enough yet to catch if she is lying about not being able to sleep – but he imagines she has plenty of her own worries big enough to keep her up at night.

When he doesn’t answer, Rook moves to get out of her chair.

Lucanis quickly waves her back down into her seat.

“No, no, no bother at all” He raises his cup to her in a cheer, “I’ll be glad for the company”

He swirls the cold coffee in his cup, before looking back up at Rook.

“Coffee? I’m going to make a fresh pot” he asks, rising from his place. Rook gives an appreciative nod, the corners of her eyes crinkling with another smile.

“I’d love some, thanks”

Rook is silent until his return from the kitchen, with a cup of freshly made coffee – real coffee, in each hand. None of that instant boiled bean water that Neve had a habit of making.

As he hands her the cup, he notices something in her lap that wasn’t there before. A small journal. Its bindings were tattered and frayed, the colour had faded from what he presumed was a bright crimson to a more muted shade of red, and the pages were yellowed with time.

“What is that?” he asks, taking his place in front of the fire once more.

Rook sets the steaming cup of coffee aside on the table, so she can begin flipping through its worn pages. A musty, acrid smell like old mothballs hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, he’s a boy in the Dellamorte estate’s library running wild between tall, marble bookshelves seeking mischief and knowledge in equal measure.

“My father’s old journal” Rook thumbs through the pages more carefully now, and her voice grows soft.

“He was a Bard in his youth. Toured all over Thedas with his troupe. As he went, he wrote down stories from across the continent” She leans her chin against her hand and smiles fondly at the little book in her hand. “Never imagined he’d be collecting bedtime stories for a future daughter”

There was a softness in her voice that he was not accustomed to hearing, tinged with the barest echo of grief. This is the first time in the few weeks they had known each other that Rook mentioned any kind of family. He notes her use of past tense and decides not to pry, much as he finds himself growing ever curious about his new companion.

Companions.

Rook looks down at the book again before meeting his eyes. They were almost pleading.

“I thought... maybe you’d like to hear one. You know, to help pass the time?”

He thinks of refusing, of telling her she needs to rest, that there is little sense in them both being sleep deprived because of Spite. There is something in her eyes that stops him from turning her down. An emotion he cannot quite name but feels akin to longing. Not quite sadness, not quite nostalgia – somewhere in between.

He quickly comes to the realization that this may be as much for her, as it is for him. Lucanis remembers the comfort that reading old stories brought him. He can picture, in striking detail, the book on Wyvern physiology he stole from the Dellamorte library as a child. He knows the contents of each page by heart, because he can still hear Illario's grumbling about wanting him to shut up about Wyverns echoing through his distant memories. He would read it by candlelight until late in the evening, ready to extinguish the flame and hide the book under his pillow at a moment’s notice if Caterina came by.

He decides that if he can help her by simply listening to a story, he will. Rook spends most of her free time trying to fix everyone else’s problems. Always flitting to and from each room in the Lighthouse like a hummingbird, fretting over the team. The Crows were already indebted to her efforts against the Antaam, and she made it a point to help him with both Spite and tracking down Zara. With all that in consideration, he feels it would be a rather poor show to refuse. That and another feeling he didn’t have a name for, keeps him from rejecting her company tonight.

“Alright” He sighs and takes a sip of his coffee before leaning back in his chair. “Let’s hear it”

Lucanis ignores the skipped beat in his chest as she beams widely.

She claps her hands together and straightens in her chair. “Wonderful!”

“So, what tale will you tell tonight?”

“Have you ever heard the old Tevene story about the Sleeping Princess?” she asks excitedly, crossing her legs in her chair like an impatient child about to be served dessert. She’s practically oscillating with excitement in her seat.

Lucanis smiles at that.

“No, I can’t say I have”

“It’s one of my favourites” she gushes, picking up the journal again and flipping to the correct page. Ringlets of rich brown hair sweep over her shoulder as she does so, and he decides to focus on his coffee instead, before he’s caught staring.

“Aha” her brow furrows as she quickly scans the contents of the journal. “Alright, here we go”

Rook sets the journal aside once more and takes a quick sip of her coffee. He doesn’t miss the way she savours the brew. He knew she enjoyed coffee from their meeting at Café Pietra with Illario, but it was nice to know she appreciated his coffee as much as theirs.

He raises an eyebrow when Rook starts cracking her knuckles – and her neck, then readies her hands in the same pose he’s seen her use for magic.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see” she grins conspiratorially.

“If you’re about to throw a fireball at me – “

“Relax, relax” Rook shakes her head, and whispers “Magic has more uses than fighting”

He can feel Spite stirring in the dark recess of his mind and does his best to ignore it.

Rook’s delicate hands begin glowing with blue light, and to his astonishment, a moment later she conjures a fully realized image of a castle, floating in the space between them. He can see the spires, turrets, and even the wrought-iron gates in clear, astonishing detail. Lucanis leans forward to inspect the castle as it rotates in mid-air, giving him views of every side. Even the masonry and statues have an immaculate degree of realism. It was almost as if she had taken a real castle and shrunk it down.

“How …?” He is not usually one to be rendered speechless, but it was not every day he is exposed to new types of magic - and when he was, historically, that hasn't always been a good thing for him. Spite rumbling under his skin reminds him of that.

“I learned to do it back in my Circle days. It was my thesis work – the use of the Fade to create projections of objects from one’s minds” her pride in her castle falls when she continues to explain, “The senior enchanters thought it a waste of effort and I barely passed my final year – they couldn’t see a use for it past getting their children to sleep. I suppose if magic can’t be used to some terrible, destructive end, it gets relegated to a novice’s thesis statement to be buried in the Circle’s archives and never touched again”

“It’s incredible Rook” he breathes. The words leave his mouth before he can stop them. He’s not sure if it’s the warmth of the fire, or something else, but he swears a faint tinge of red creeps from her neck up to her ears.

He desperately wants to reach out and touch the castle, but keeps his hands firmly on his coffee cup, worried he may ruin her concentration.

Rook’s eyes crinkle with her smile, wide and genuine. He’s never seen her smile like that, and it feels utterly disarming.

He brings his coffee cup to his lips again, about to take a sip.

“Thank you, Lucanis” Her voice is sweeter than the coffee on his lips.

“You’re welcome” is all he manages to choke out, leaning away from the castle to give himself some distance to regain control of his faculties.

Rook clears her throat, “I ahh, guess I should get on with the story, hmm?”

Lucanis nods and takes another sip of coffee, feeling the warmth spread through him but he is not entirely certain it’s from the coffee alone.

“I would say you’re burning moonlight, but given where we are …”

He smiles when Rook chuckles at his terrible attempt at humour, and he appreciates it even if it is forced on her end, but it feels genuine enough. Everything about Rook was genuine.

Her focus returns to the castle in front of them.

“Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a small kingdom”

She waves her hands in a fluid motion and the solitary castle morphs into a bird’s eye view of that same castle perched on top of a hill, overlooking a small village.

“And in that kingdom, there lived a King and a Queen, much beloved by their people.”

The castle and village disappear. They are now replaced with two figures sitting on matching thrones upon a simple dais. In the thrones sit a man and a woman, each with a crown decorating their foreheads.

“The King and Queen longed desperately for a child of their own and had tried for many years to make it so. ‘Would that we had a child!’, the King cried, and yet, their child remained a dream.”

As she said those words, the mouth of the king moved in tandem.

He can’t imagine the amount of concentration it must be taking to accomplish telling a story, maintaining an illusion, and making an illusion talk. He continues to sit there in awe, with only his training keeping his jaw from hanging on the floor.

The corner of her lips pull down into a slight frown.

“The Queen would not accept the words of her physician, who told her bearing a child was not possible for her, for there was a sickness in her womb that would prevent it”

The image morphed into the Queen hunched over on the floor, on all fours, sobbing. It looks so real he is convinced he could hear her agonized cries.

Now, the Queen has traded her crown for a traveller's cloak. She floats aimlessly in the air between them, the cloak billowing on an invisible wind.

“The Queen, unbeknownst to the King, set off to seek the knowledge of a Spirit from the Fade. When she eventually finds one,” Rook pauses and waves her left hand to bring forth the image of an amorphous spirit in front of the Queen. “She wastes no time asking the Spirit if it could help her conceive a child”

The spirit continues to float above the figure of the queen, who is now on her knees looking up at it, hands clasped as if in prayer.

“The Spirit asks if she is prepared to do anything to have a child. The Queen fervently answers that she would give up anything – do anything for an heir.” The figure of the Queen bows down to the Spirit in deference. “Satisfied, the Spirit gives her knowledge of a ritual that could provide her with a child. It would take several mages and the sacrifice of an innocent, but that was the only way to cure the sickness from her womb and carry a child. ‘Do this, and your child will grow in grace and beauty. Hair spun in gold, lips as red as the rose. She will walk with spring time wherever she goes. Her song will put nightingales and larks to shame’”

Blood magic. Figures this story comes from Tevinter.

“But be warned” The Spirit holds up a hand, “Should the Princess ever prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and draw blood, she will die”

The figure of the Queen hurriedly nods, before disappearing into nothing.

“The Queen quickly returns to the kingdom and enlists the help of her council of Magi”

The figure of the Queen returns to its original appearance. She is now surrounded by seven cloaked figures, each carrying a stave in their hands. The form of a young woman is chained, on her knees, in the middle of them all.

“They had their sacrifice, and the knowledge on how to perform the ritual” Her voice is quiet, almost strained.

The figures appear to be chanting now. The faint blue glow of the form of the young woman slowly turns red, with some concentration on Rook’s part. A moment later, the form is swallowed by red light and disappears. Veins of red climb like vines and weave their way into the figure of the Queen, settling on her stomach, before fading from sight.

Rook’s frown deepens and her brows draw closely together. The figures of the King and Queen morph into an embrace. And quickly after, they are sitting on their thrones, side-by-side, with the Queen’s belly swollen with child.

“The King had no idea about the ritual. He was ecstatic, of course, at the prospect of finally having a child” Rook said. “And so he didn’t question it when the Queen asked that every spinning wheel in the kingdom be burned to ensure her safety”

The pair disappear, and now, a large pile of spinning wheels, burning with blue flames, takes their place.

It disappears soon after, and the image of a baby is conjured in its place. She is sleeping soundly in an intricately carved wooden cot.

“The Princess, who they called Rosaea, was perfect. And just as the Spirit had said, she would indeed grow in grace and beauty” The form of the baby changes to that of a young woman, with long, flowing hair and a beautiful face. “She was loved by all her people, for she had a kind heart. She lived happily with her parents and was adorned of gifts from her people, the nobility, and suitors alike. But things would not stay that way for long.”

The image of the princess disappears. The scene shifts to the King, Queen, and the Princess together at the gates of the Kingdom.

“Urgent business with another Kingdom called the King and Queen away, and so the Princess was left to wander the castle by herself”

Rook waves a hand and the Princess walks alone, before coming to the form of an old woman hunched over a spinning wheel.

The princesses mouth moves in tandem with Rook’s words.

“You there, madam” The princess says, pointing to the wheel. “What is it that you are doing?’ She asks, for she had never seen a spinning wheel before”

The figure of the old woman turns towards the princess and beckons her closer, “I am spinning, dear girl’, it answers” The figure of the princess moves closer to the spinning wheel. She leans over it, and asks, “What is that thing that twists around so briskly?”

No sooner had she said the words and taken the spindle into her hand, there is a flash of red light, and the figure of the princess is on the floor. Not dead, but sleeping, for he can see the rise and fall of her chest.

The old woman first morphs into the spirit from before, the one that spoke with the Queen, and then it changes again into a twisted creature - all horns, claws, and jagged edges. One he was all too familiar with. A demon.

“The Spirit the Queen had spoken with was no Spirit at all, it was a Terror demon in disguise.” Rook explains, waving her hand through the illusion of the girl and the demon towering over her, erasing it from existence.

It is at this moment that Lucanis realizes he’s forgotten to breathe. He draws a deep breath, and leans forward, resting his forearms on his legs. His coffee sits abandoned on the table, as does Rook’s. Spite is practically vibrating behind his eyes.

“Well, go on” he gestures at her.

Rook grins, evidently satisfied with her work. “Impatient, are we?”

Lucanis smirks, “Spite wants to know how it ends”

“And you’re not the least bit curious?” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, looking at him doubtfully.

He distracts himself with a sip of coffee, miraculously still somewhat warm. “I might be”

Rook chuckles and shakes her head, mirroring him by bringing her own coffee to her lips. She licks her lips and sighs, and he tries to look anywhere but her mouth. For a moment, he finds himself preoccupied with his own shoes.

“Sorry, I was feeling a bit parched there. On with the story” She rings out her hands and brings them back into position. That familiar blue glow envelops them again. He feels its safe to meet her gaze again.

“The Terror Demon’s ritual didn’t just affect the Princess, it affected the whole Kingdom. One by one, everyone fell into a deep slumber, just like the princess”

He watches intently as the castle courtyard morphs into view between them. Figures of soldiers and servants alike start falling asleep in place, dropping like wilting flowers. The courtyard disappears and returns to another view of the entire kingdom. Large, twisted brambles begin enveloping it,He eererere forming an impenetrable wall of thorns encasing everything in sight.

“The King and Queen returned to find their Kingdom gone. They tried rallying support from other kingdoms, but none could breach the Demon’s brambles”

Figures of soldiers and magi alike lobbing magic and arrows and spears at the wall sprang to life. Each volley as useless as the last. She pauses as the image fades, and nothing takes its place.

“And?” Lucanis asks leaning onto his forearms even more.

“And I’m getting there” Rook laughs, flourishing her fingers like she’s conducting an invisible orchestra.

“The Demon’s spell kept the kingdom in a state of eternal slumber. It fed on their fears and nightmares in the Fade while they slept. On the outside, a hundred years had passed, and the King and Queen were long dead. But everyone inside the Kingdom still remained as they were when they were put to sleep”

Two elaborate tombs flickered to life, before fading a moment later.

“Another hundred years passes before a wandering adventurer, pure of heart and mind, and possessing the soul of a true hero, would come to the ruins of the Kingdom, still surrounded by the wall of thorns”

She conjures the image of a handsome-faced young man, in simple chain mail, riding atop a horse.

“But this adventurer was special, you see” Rook whispered and leaned in closer.

Smells like lavender and rosewater, Spite chimes.

“For he had a Spirit of Valor on his side. And the Spirit would see the Terror Demon banished back to the Fade forever”

The figure draws his sword, glowing a bright golden yellow, and pierces the wall of thorns with ease. He continues to cut through the wall and makes his way to the castle.

“There was a great battle between the Demon and the Hero, but the Hero prevails with the help of the Spirit of Valor”

The demon is pierced by the golden sword, and cries out a soundless scream, before disappearing. Now, the entire view of the kingdom is back. The brambles recede like a tide, and one by one, little figures of soldiers and servants begin waking up.

Curiously, when the image fades back to the figure of the princess, she still lies sleeping.

“Why didn’t the princess wake up?” Lucanis asks, his brows drawing together in confusion.

“The Nightmare Demon’s hold on the Princess is stronger than any of the other inhabitants of the Kingdom” Rook explains, shifting in her seat. "It was banished back to the Fade, but not defeated in its entirety. Terror is one of the strongest emotions there is, after all"

The princess and the hero fade from view, and this time, nothing takes their place.

“There has to be more than that” He throws his hands up and shakes his head, before taking another sip of coffee. He nearly spits it out. It’s gone cold. Again. Yet for all his love of caffeinated beverages, the thought of getting up to make another cup doesn’t even cross his mind.

She laughs again, her green eyes twinkling with mirth, “I’m getting there.” She repeats.

“You’re doing this on purpose” He points to her, frowning.

“I have to build suspense somehow!”

Rook raises her hands again, and the figures of the princess and the hero return to view.

“The Hero couldn’t help but be struck by the Princesses’ beauty. He could do nothing else but admire her sleeping form. And he was overcome with the desire to kiss her, for he knew it was love at first sight. He had no way of knowing if it would work – maybe it was his own heart, or maybe it was the Spirit of Valor whispering in his ear, but needed to know if a kiss could wake her from her slumber”

The figure of the prince moves closer to the princess, and hunches over her sleeping form. It leans in and presses a gentle, chaste kiss to her lips.

Both the princess and the hero were soon engulfed in a warm, golden glow. The figure of the princess wakes, and the hero takes her into his arms.

“The princess wakes to find herself in the arms of her rescuer. She and the Hero fall in love. They re-establish the kingdom and ruled together as King and Queen, living happily ever after”

And with a final flick of her wrist, the embracing figures vanish into the ether.

“The End” She says, with a satisfied smirk and a small bow at the waists.

Lucanis leans back in his seat, unable to stop himself from smiling. “That’s it? Everything is fixed with a kiss?”

Rook shrugs innocently, “Aren’t most things?”

He has no time to process that, or the way she’s looking at him while she says it.

“Besides, it wasn’t just a kiss. It was true love’s kiss. Love can be a powerful form of magic in its own right. Just as powerful as Terror - if not more so”

Lucanis frowns. He wishes he could believe that.

“In stories, perhaps” he mutters, swirling the cold coffee around in its cup.

Rook yawns and runs a hand through her wild curls.

“Perhaps” She stands and takes the journal in her hands. She offers him another sweet smile before turning to leave, “Never hurts to believe, though”

As she makes for the dining hall door, Lucanis stands from his chair.

“Rook?” He calls out after her.

She stops and turns, “Yeah?”

“Thank you … for this” he gestures to the fireplace. “For tonight.”

Rook nods, “You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked my story”

“Would you come again tomorrow night?” He asks, entirely too quickly. Convinced he sounds like a lovesick puppy, he wants to kick himself in the shin. Thankfully, he has Spite to do that to his head.

Rooks brows lift in surprise, like she wasn’t expecting him to ask. They quickly settle into a kind expression, one he finds he wants to burn into his memory until its all he can see.

“Yeah, of course” She gives him a small wave, “I’ll see you tomorrow night”

Lucanis returns the wave and returns to the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee.

Meanwhile, Rook leaves the dining hall barely able to keep herself upright.

Being inside the Fade made it much easier for her to draw on her magic, but she’s never used that level of detail and sustained it for so long to tell a story.

Sleep would come easier that night for her from the mana depletion alone.

But Lucanis would stay awake replaying her story in his head over and over again. He would think of how the warm glow of the fireplace cast streaks of orange and gold into her wild curls. How her eyes practically sparkle and the softness of her voice when she tells a story.

But in all the loops of Rook and her story that play in his mind, it escapes his notice that a possessed man is the hero of her tale.

#lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #rookanis #rook mercar #my rook #oc: madeleina mercar #datv #datv spoilers #sheesh guys this took for fucking ever #sleeping beauty was a hard one to adapt #but it won the poll so I had figure it out #be nice its my first fanfiction #dragon age #dragon age veilguard #fanfiction #fanfic #and sorry for any errors 1. english is my second language and 2. i was too lazy to properly proofread this #fic: bedtime stories for a demon

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canadiannationalfox · 2 months ago

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Murder Drones Fanfic - Bedtime Story - A Jessa Fanfic

It was sadly one of those nights again, where Tessa was chained up in her room. She had been caught sneaking out to the cemetery when she should've been with her tutor writing essays.

The Elliott heiress sighed as she flopped back first onto her bed. "At this point, I may as well go to bed, I won't be let out until dawn."

J, who was also chained up because she had been with Tessa, rolled her LED eyes slightly, "Tessa, you're an insomniac, you will struggle to fall asleep for an hour." She sat side saddle on Tessa's old rocking horse and stated, "We need to pass the time until you're tired," she crossed her arms in annoyance as she said, "I WOULD brush your hair, but the chains won't let us get near your vanity desk."

The ebony haired girl pulled her knees closer to her chest, she huffed sorrowfully and fidgeted with one of the bows on her plaits. "Hah, just like a fairytale, huh? A girl, locked away... waiting for the dawn..." she sighed sorrowfully.

The pigtailed drone got an idea, she smiled as she offered somewhat cheerfully, "I mean, I know you're a bit old for it, but, I could tell you a bed time story."

Tessa sat up, looking over to J, a small smile appeared where once a frown was. She suggested eagerly, "Could you tell one from memory? Instead of from a book, Jaybird?"

The pigtailed drone slightly puffed her chest out proudly as she insisted, "Definitely, but... maybe we could stick to one I know. I'm not as good at writing as you're getting to be," She hopped off the rocking horse and came and sat by Tessa. "Maybe you'd want to hear Rapunzel retold? Maybe Little Red Ridinghood, or Alice in Wonder-?" the maid drone was stopped by the bubbly eager voice of her favourite human girl.

"DRACULA!" the 14 year old girl exclaimed, her greyish hued eyes sparkling with enthusiam

"Here we go again with the vampire stuff," J thought to herself, smiling at how cute Tessa was being. She lightly pinched the girl's cheek, "You know Dracula doesn't have a happy ending, you're just being weird."

Tessa pouted playfully, "Well then make it a happy story! I wanna hear about vampires!"

J side hugged Tessa and laughed, "Alright, alright, but only because I like you so much," she ruffled Tessa's hair and teased, "You and your vampires!" She asked quickly before she began to spin the tale, "Would you like to be in this story too?"

"YES! Entirely! It would be so fun!" Tessa giggled excitedly, she hugged J back and pleaded, "Please, Jaybird?"

The pretty little maid began happily, "Once upon a time, on a stormy night, a little lady named Tessa was lost in the forest. She had been running to get out of a horrendous down pour, and there was no where to seek refuge, all except the large gothic castle in the heart of the forest."

Tessa stopped her drone and asked, "Oh, oh! Can you be the vampire?"

"Tessaaaaa, Dracula's a boy vampire," J groaned in some annoyance.

Tessa looked sadly at J and pleaded in her precious little Aussie voice, "What if Dracula was a lady this time?" she leaned on J's shoulder and responded, "Plus you're so pretty... you'd make a nice vampire..."

-----------------------------------------

A woman with golden eyes answered the knocks at the castle's door, her long silver hair hung around her like a cloak accenting her red and black velvet evening dress. "What is it that you want?" the Countess ordered sharply as she looked down upon the cloaked girl.

"P-please your majesty, I need to seek refuge," the girl pleaded, she was drenched like a drowned cat.

The countess looked upon the pitiful soul and responded sternly, "You may stay the night..."

The girl clad in a black cloak took off the hood of her cloak once she was through the doorway, slighting wringing the rain water from her braids.

The alabaster skinned woman asked in bemusement, "Were you raised in a barn, dear girl?"

"N-no madame," the shorter woman responded, ceasing her daftness, "I was sent by the aristocrats to find the deceased in the woods," she curtsied gently, "I'm the daughter of the undertaker."

The Countess waved off the comment, taking up a candelabra before she beckoned, "Follow me, dear girl."

The two walked through the entrance hallway, headed past a corridor of stained glass windows and paintings, made their way up part of the grand staircase, and then down another hall.

The girl winced in pain as she remembered the bruise on her wrist. She rubbed where she was injured, stopping her venture with the lady of the castle.

The woman turned around, wondering where the second set of footsteps had stopped at. She approached the girl, holding out her hand before coarsely demanding, "Show me your injury."

The girl hesitated the commands, asking instead, "Does it get lonely here?" her grey eyes twinkling in the candle light.

The silver-haired lady huffed in annoyance, commanding with her eyes and demanding with her voice, "Show me your injuries."

As if she had felt she had no choice, the freckled girl showed her wrist to the elegant woman. "I... had a small accident," she admitted politely, not wanting to mention more, feeling the stronger woman take a hold of her wrist firmly and yet gently.

The bruise was far worse than any the woman had seen for quite sometime. "I see... well, Miss...." she began but stopped.

The shorter lass curtsied before the reclusive woman and greeted politely, "I am Tessa of Elliott, and what is your name?"

"Countess Jacquelline Dracula, you may call me Lady Jacquelline for short," she stated coldly, looking away from the girl, "Miss Tessa, I will get you some poppy seed tea to assist in relieving your pain,"

"Th-thank you, Lady Jacquelline," the ebony haired lass responded as Jacquelline let go of her wrist. She pried again, this time, making her voice a lot softer, "I'm still wondering if you are lonely ever, it doesn't seem like there's anyone else here."

"Miss Elliott, I am not lonely," the woman growled, "Now follow me to your sleeping quarters."

The ebony haired girl sat at a cathedral style window, the curtains open letting in the moonlight now that the storm had cleared. Sitting in a spare dress that the Countess had given her. It was a pale teal dress with corset ribbons of black, she faced the window, using some charcoals she had found on some paper. A knocking at the door stopped the girl's sketching while stargazing.

"Your tea, Miss Elliott," the Countess coldly greeted as she set down the tea cup and was about to leave.

"Please wait," Tessa replied, turning around to see the one who gave her refuge, "You can stay here..."

The Countess was annoyed and yet, she wanted to stay for some reason. She sat in a chair across from the girl whom she saw as annoying, she crossed her arms and scolded, "Whatever is it now, young lady?"

The girl rubbed one of her still-damp braids shyly with one hand and handed a piece of paper to the silver-haired woman. "I... I made this for you,"

Jacquelline's scowl softened. "This... this is pretty good," the elegant woman remarked as she accepted the piece of artwork, admiring the handiwork.

"You're the only person I've drawn who was alive,"

The Countess responded not able to lie, "There's always a first for everything," her smile widening a little. She picked back up the cup of tea and handed it to the woman and asked inquisitively, "You're already a young woman, why haven't you found yourself a fellow?"

Miss Tessa was taken aback as she accepted the cup of tea and heard the softened question. "I am to be wed, however, I do not wish to be... all the suitors are horrendous." She sipped from the tea and smiled at the flavour, the added cream and sugar making the tea just perfect. "I ran away, I don't even want children,"

Jacquelline knew this feeling all too well, she remembered a time when she was forced to love, and how tragically it had changed her life. She only had the castle for that reason. She responded gently, "I understand, romance isn't always the best option," she placed her hand upon the young woman's back.

Miss Tessa finally drew in the scent of lavenders and copper off of the woman, feeling almost intoxicated by the aroma, and feeling a sense of want, but she flinched at the cold hands of the Countess.

"You're probably cold, darling girl," Jacquelline coaxed playfully, hoping to get a clearer look at the girl and her neck, she sighed, knowing she'd have to get more hands-on.

Tessa jumped in slight surprise as she felt the ribbons at the end of her braids become untied, and a gentle feeling of someone wringing water out of her waves. "O-Oh, you don't have to do that, i-it's alright," she reassured with a slight stammer as she set down her tea.

"Dear, you're going to catch pneumonia, I'm doing you a favour." She held a section out of the way, seeing the girl's neck, dotted with freckles. She held herself back from taking a bite.

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"Awwww, why didn't she bite yet, Jaybird?"

J winked to her favourite human, teasing happily, "Don't you want the story to be longer?"

"Okay, okay... so you... err... Jackie didn't bite yet, so then what happened?" Tessa teased happily before letting J resume the story.

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Miss Tessa slept peacefully, the moonlight shining on her, unaware of the woman who stood as tall as an obelisk in the corner of the room.

"I should bite her, I should drink her succulent blood," Jacquelline reasoned with herself, baring her fangs, however, she was feeling empathy for the girl. She walked over to the sleeping girl and sat by her side. She played with a ribbon on Miss Elliott's dress, sighing softly. "She's so adorable when she sleeps," the vampire woman assessed lovingly. She got up and closed the blinds, the sun would be rising in a couple hours and if she was still in the room it would hurt her.

When day came the ebony haired lass awoke to a sweet scent. She arose from bed, and was about to go to the window to let in the daylight, when she turned to see the Countess was already there, standing with a mahogany carved tray in her hands.

"I brought you breakfast," she hesitantly greeted, she wanted to keep up the cold demeanour, not wanting to let the young lady know she was softening to her presence.

Miss Tessa stopped herself, looked over to the offering, and sat back down on the bed. Pasca loaf with cherries and strawberries and more poppy seed tea. She accepted a piece of the sweet bread before taking a bite, but as soon as she did, she decided to eat it as quickly as possible.

"Easy there, easy there," Jacquelline instructed in worry, "You'll give yourself a stomach ache!"

The ebony haired girl looked up like a startled doe. "I... I haven't been fed this well in weeks... I'm ever so sorry, your majesty, I forgot..."

Jacquelline sat beside Tessa, she soothed caringly, "No, it's not about manners, dear... Are you alright. I'm starting to think your family was treating you worse than a donkey."

Tessa's grey eyes filled with tears, she hid her face with her hair, she was ashamed. The silver haired vampire leaned close to hold the lovely living girl, studying her a little closer. "Goodness, let's get you taken care of then." She waited for Tessa to look away bashfully to make more bread appear on her plate.

Tessa looked down in surprise. "Oh... more for me?"

Jacquelline soothed gently, tucking some hair behind the woman's ear, "Yes, more for you, I can't have my guest starving."

"But... shouldn't I go?"

The vampiric woman used her hypnotic stare to insist gently, "You will stay as long as you'd like, you don't have to go anywhere.."

The ebony haired lady leaned into Jacquelline's touch, she felt safer than she had for years and years.

"After breakfast I'll draw you a bath, we'll get you all cleaned up, and then I can show you around, alright?"

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"Jaybiiiiiird, you shouldn't have mentioned food, I'm so hungry now," Tessa groaned as her stomach grumbled.

J was about to say something when suddenly someone unlocked the room. "Da da dan na! N is here!" he trilled happily as he brought Tessa a bowl of cherries, kiwis and strawberries. "Way to steal my thunder, Bozo..." J stated.

"Thank you, N, but... can you go?" Tessa said in an apologetic tone, "J's telling me a story."

N nodded and headed out of the room, closing the door but not locking it. Tessa started snacking on the fruit as J resumed the story

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Jacquelline Dracula once again had a chance to bite the neck of Miss Tessa. She sat on the bed once more, sitting behind the darling girl with the dark hair, brushing out the neglect knots with gentleness and love. "Comfortable?" she asked as she coaxed the brush through some tangles carefully.

"I don't think anyone's ever had so much care for me,"

The vampire leaned closer, she was inches from Tessa's neck, she could bite her right then and there, and yet, she didn't want to. She instead kissed the back of the girl's neck, softly whispering, "Well, it's a shame, a pretty lady like you should be treated right."

The freckly young lady jumped slightly at the feeling of the kiss. "D-do you think I deserve better?" she asked, her heart racing.

The Countess Dracula soothed lovingly, "Of course. If you'd want, you could stay with me.. Forever." Her hand tracing Tessa's neck gently.

Tessa started to cry, her chest rising and falling with every sob. "They need me back, Countess, I.... I'm expected back at the church this morning..."

Jacquelline held her prized darling closer, the vampire running her sharp fangs across the side of the girl's neck before she asked, "All I have to do is give you one little neck kiss.... And you will be free."

The adorable ebony haired woman realized what this was. The proof was all there, she was in a castle with only one lone woman, whose beauty was unsurpassable and knew herbal medicine and avoided the sun.

--------------------------------

Tessa giggled excitedly as she added to the story, "You're a vampire!"

J did a silly Dracula impression, "I am! And I'm going to suck your blood, Miss Tessa!" The Maid Drone with the silky silver pigtails pounced, pretended to bite Tessa's shoulder, she didn't bite, but she made sounds like a growly dog.

Tessa squirmed and giggled happily. "Oh no! I'll live forever now!" she teased, which made the usually very stoic maid drone start laughing too. The two hugged and said in unison once they controlled their laughter, "And they both lived happily ever after."

Tessa stretched and yawned. "Thank you for the story, Jaybird..." she sleepily whispered as she got under the blankets. "Sleep well, Tessa, have lots of wonderful dreams of being a little vampire with me." She cuddled up to her favourite human and the two fell asleep.

The End

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