marlowemuses | Diplomacy and Romance

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Diplomacy and Romance

[original thread here!]

"Consider staying?" Lenore repeats, a little bit amused because it makes it sound like he wants her to stay and is worried she might not. That's a charming thought, and it makes her wonder if he's actually far more lonely than she would initially have guessed. "I'd rather stay, if I'm not a nuisance to you. I want safety and freedom, and you've offered me quite a bit of both. Besides, I like our conversations. You make me feel as though my musings are worth hearing."

His point of view on the vampiric influence makes her think. So he does suspect that there's some vampire involvement with the Ottomans. Perhaps that was obvious, now that she thinks about it. There's vampiric influence nearly everywhere, to some degree or another, and the Ottoman empire is only growing. They'd have to be particularly vigilant and effective crusaders to not have vampires within their borders by now, though it can be assumed that most of those vampires have the sense to keep quiet and out of the way of human nonsense, or to involve themselves just enough to redirect the humans out of their own business. If there are vampires actively supporting the expansion--which expansion is abutting the territories of older vampires, and drawing Dracula's attention--then they are likely to be young and foolish, to be so reckless.

Human rabble and reckless young vampires. Even if they come in sufficient numbers to sweep this far, Dracula can simply move his castle, as he said.

She still feels paranoid.

Setting her glass down, she hugs her knees to her chest, staring into the fire as she mulls it over.

"I feel like this is going to sound insane," she said at last, sighing. "But it is the dark secrecy at the core of the Ottoman Empire that unnerves me. Secretive human kingdoms have absolutely existed, but ..." She already feels like she isn't making sense, but she doesn't know how else to try and present this wild theory. "I'm a historian, and history repeats itself. The world has changed, but the world always changes, so I don't think the reasoning that 'the world isn't like that anymore' is adequate defense against history repeating.

"The old vampire empires of Egypt, Babylon, Persia--Egypt and Persia were already on the decline when the human king Alexander swept through. Military genius though he was, he would never have had a chance against either of them at their height. But all the vampiric empires of the world had been weakened after the fall of Nineveh. You know the story? This is ancient history, even for you. The Assyrian vampire-kings of Nineveh were too bloodthirsty, too cruel, too tyrannical. They thought they could control their empire by crushing each rebellion with horrifying viciousness, to teach a lesson to anyone else who thought to oppose them. But this created such immense resentment that when a rebellion finally brought them down, the empire effectively fell overnight. They razed Nineveh to the ground and pulled down its stones. It sent shockwaves through the world. Rebellions echoed in Persia and Egypt, and they lost province after province, leaving them like scattered pearls for Alexander to collect.

"As much as our kind enjoyed the Roman empire, at some points nearly living in the open because the opulence and insanity of the nobility hid our traits as 'eccentricities', the Roman vampires remembered the fall of Egypt and Persia only three centuries before, and the fall of Nineveh only six centuries before. We'd already learned that living quietly was safer for us, and as Christianity rose, we learned to be subtle and secretive.

"Now we're growing bolder. Vampires are openly ruling countries again." Like her own sisterhood and their Queendom. "Greed and ambition are inherent in our nature, just as much or perhaps more than the traits appear in humans. Surely there must be vampires who have begun to dream of empire again. I expect you know more than I about the blood-drinking Aztec empire, across the sea, and I've heard that vampire influence in the Ming dynasty is growing. In both cases, from what I know of both situations, vampires are infiltrating a human empire that already has a significant power base. That's what I'd do. I'd find a human empire with a taste for expansion and a sense of secrecy at the heart. This 'forbidden city' the Mings are building. The inner palace and the harem of the Ottomans. I have no evidence, but if I were a vampire who wanted an empire, I'd pick the Ottomans. I'd plant myself like a seed at their heart, driving their expansion outward, building religious fanaticism at their core, with a divine god-emperor role that I could step into once all else was ready.

"I don't think this needs to be the plan of a young and reckless vampire," Lenore said, sitting forward, tapping her fingertip against the arm of her chair as she spoke, driven by her thoughts. "In fact, it bothers me how this empire is rising so close to the ruins of Nineveh. How it's taking the shape of the ancient Persian empire. If one of the scions of Nineveh survived? They've had two thousand years to learn secrecy, to stew in resentment, to believe that it's their bloodright to reclaim their ancient empire."

Sitting back once the whole of the idea was shaped into words, Lenore ducked her chin again, feeling shy and foolish in the wake of it. "I know it's wild. I know I have not a shred of evidence. But the evidence we do have, it ... it sits poorly with me. Priest-emperors, an expanding empire, and a central palace that's so, so secretive."

"I do not consider your presence nor those of your serving staff to be a nuisance." It was the truth; he had no reason to lie to her on this subject. He, of course, had his secrets, but he made no particular effort to hide that he had grown to enjoy her company and their conversations. She didn't wax and wane with complaints but came at situations with a curious musing, which he had grown to find endearing.

If they were still humans, he might even describe it as her coming alive during some of their particularly curious theoretical or realistic debates. Very few dared to even try to keep up with him on such matters, but she gave as good as she received.

He set his glass down when she tucked into the chair and turned down the path of 'this might sound insane', knowing that she was about to regale him with a theory of hers. He provided her his full attention as he considered what she was saying, corner of his lips twitching when she asked if he had heard the story before. He had stopped being personally offended by the idea that there was historical knowledge he didn't have that she might. Now he found it curious and amusing.

"We are the makers of our own destruction when we are too bold," he remarked after considering her words carefully. "Some forget that humanity and even lesser vampires are meager on their own, but once they grow in number, even the most ancient and cruel of us will find their end." They had plenty of historical evidence that tyranny would create uprisings, and even the best strangle-holds allowed some grains of sand to slip from between one's fingers. A united mass was truly a force to be reckoned with.

But war was an uncertainty, even for vampire-kind. It was in everyone's nature to take more than they needed, and ancient vampires were dangerous when they roused themselves to action given their ancient knowledge, skill and their potential connection to Chaos and the demonic realm. Uncertainty would remain. One wrong turn, one bold group of skilled warriors, losing track of time engrossed in a task, or even malcontent within one's own ranks.

"Your concerns are valid, Lenore. Eventually ambitions will outgrow the caution of remaining to the shadows." He gestured a hand towards her in animated conversation. "However, we remain limited by the sun where humans are not. Only on a full solar eclipse can we move freely during the day, but those hardly last long enough to make the risk worthwhile." He did consider the possibility as he stroked his goatee. "Do you believe there is a real threat of an ancient vampire that could blot out the sun?"

He had seen little evidence of ancient vampires, but it had been many years since he had walked around so boldly as to potentially provoke one either. They were best to let such sleeping dragons lie unless they revealed themselves. He wasn't King of the Vampires without certain assurances of his own abilities, but those who were truly ancient would gather the kind of power needed to overtake an empire. Secret societies aside, ancient vampires were not recorded to be agreeable to working well with others either their own kind or humanity.

"I also don't find the movements of the Ottoman Empire as it expands to be any more threatening than Alexander the Great, the Romans or even the Greeks. They move with a purposeful greed to covet the lands and people. Yes, their mechanizations have a definite air of secrecy...." He folded his hands together and rested his chin upon them as he stared in the fire, playing out her scenario in his head and what he assumed it might look like with vampires at the helm. "However, I don't discount your theory entirely. It requires evidence, and there is only few avenues available to gather such evidence."

Use spies to investigate or do so personally.

"Would you consider this unease within you so deep as you would expend resources to look into such matters?" He turned his head to regard her. She was a Queen of her own right; how would she act without requiring the approval of her fellow Sister-Queens?

"Nn ... no," Lenore says, tipping her head in thought and changing her conclusion halfway through the word. "I don't think there's an ancient vampire with that power, but ... we know there are other realms. Other powers. Creatures beyond our comprehension. And we can hold control over an empire and over humans even without any of those things. Kings very rarely get killed in their sleep, even though they are as helpless as any other being in unconsciousness. The power structure that protects them is strong enough to withstand that weakness. Only fools think that a political coup is as simple as killing a king. We, in Styria, have built and held our queendom just fine despite the tyranny of the sun."

His other question, however, is more complicated, and she has to fall silent again while she processes through it, sipping at her wine. She needs to offer an answer that encompasses both what she would do, as Queen of Styria, and what she is advising him to do, as Lord over the many vampire courts under his sway. She takes her own position first, as it's easier. Imagining herself in his place is more difficult, and a part of her instinctively balks at it, but she pushes through that, imagining all the pieces and the various possibilities.

"For us, in Styria, assuming the worst outcome--their forces sweep westward, strongly enough to make you relocate, strongly enough that it seems likely they will reach our borders--then I would take the same action regardless of whether I find they are vampire or human. When they threaten Styria, specifically, I would initiate diplomacy to ensure our safety and relative autonomy."

The Ottomans are not her problem, and unlikely to become her problem or Styria's problem anytime soon. They're not relevant to her any more than they're relevant to Cho or Godbrand, as long as another vampire force stands between them and the potential threat.

"If I were you ... mm. The question is more interesting. Let us again assume that they encroach and conquer far enough, as you said before, to make you relocate. If they are human, that's not necessarily an issue. Any vampire realm whose forces they touch may choose how to fight or flee or negotiate as they please. But if the forces are controlled by a vampire--" Her hands flutter as she thinks, hand lifting, curling into a fist, uncurling, pressing against her lips. When she has her thoughts back in line, her hands fall back into her lap. "What you have done, in creating your court, is ... I don't know how you'd describe it, but you are effectively the treaty-maker. By keeping us all from falling to petty squabbling, you protect against the chance of knowledge and artifacts being lost in the conflict." She knows he knows this. She's describing his own court in the simplest possible terms. But an important aspect of debate is to start from the accepted facts. "So if you are removed from the center of the board and relocated to the corner." Actually, that's a good metaphor. She rises and brings over the chess board from the far side of the room, and the table that it's on. She'll put it back where it belongs in a minute, but for now she brings it over to him and remains standing as she arranges the pieces, removing all the white pieces except the king. She puts him as the black king in the center of the board, pushing other pieces into a random scattering on their respective sides of the board. It doesn't need to reflect a real chess game's moves. It's a metaphor.

"The Ottomans advance, you retreat." She moves him to the far corner, behind the other black pieces, and moves the white king to the center. Then she touches the three black pieces nearest to the white king. "They can deal with a human force, as we said. But if the ottomans are backed by a vampire force, then when they get here, these vampire rulers have a different choice. They can still fight, flee, or negotiate. Or." She removes a black bishop near the white king, and replaces it with a white bishop. Then she does the same with the nearby pair of black knights. "They can change sides, choosing to follow the rising vampire lord who has made Dracula retreat." She removes a few more black pieces, knocking them over first to simulate death or defeat, and then replaces several more with white. "Your network collapses, and that's the greater threat to us all. Given that threat, then yes, I would take action now. Spies or diplomacy, I would want to know what the secret is at the heart of their empire. Because if they continue to conquer and succeed as they have done so far, then by the time they reach the center of the board and force you to move, then it is too late."

She sits back down, doubting whether she's overstepped. "Was that what you were asking, or did I take the question too far?"

"You speak of the ancient primordial entities of our world then?" There were many ancient powers that inhabited this world and fed upon its energies. They were waging their own silent war, unseen but manipulating energies to their own benefits. Death had once been like an old friend, but he had stayed his hand from the futility of outright slaughter of humanity once he had learned his abilities. He had made the necessary deals to gain power, to be powerful, and he did still repay Them for their services.

He was, of course, currently ignoring God and Satan and their powers upon this world. They moved in different more tangible ways when it came to humanity, and their influence was not to be ignored. He had already cultivated means of having a night creature army, and souls would always be the cost of that business proposition. He had no qualms about such a cost, of course. The process itself was rather fascinating after all.

He nodded his head at her assessment of Styria, and he agreed with her. "Diplomacy would be your strongest card to play. If it came to a military challenge, your army would benefit from the harshness of your winters and your difficult terrain." And it would depend on the size of the army by that point. A long war would do no one in Styria particular benefits, even if he acknowledged that Morana and Striga had the ability to outlast most human armies.

The corner of his lips twitched in a little smile when she rose for the chess board, watching her tactical movements of the political landscape. He had already made considerations on what moving his castle would mean for those of his court, though it was far reaching beyond the borders of just Europe. His reach was still wide and often within the shadows; he had cultivated spies and the good will of information being passed to him over generations as a farmer tends his fields so the greatest benefit came from each crop.

"It seems to me that your assessment of the situation is that, should the Ottoman army come, I should remain for their armies to crash against my castle and sweep across my lands. By standing firm, the reach of my court remains what it is." He picked up his glass of wine and took his first sip from it; he had already decided as the Ottomans formed what he would do should they expand towards Wallachia's borders and beyond. "It is good then that I am already taking action, but the Empire will come regardless. Their hunger for expansion will come at great personal cost to them."

He set down his glass to regard her. "You answered my question exactly as I expected you to. I do hope your Sisterdom appreciates your insights as much as I do."

Lenore's eyes widen with alarm at the mental image he paints, of being surrounded and overrun by the Ottomans, and she sits up, almost objecting, but she contains her worries as he finishes. Her cheeks flush at the end, both from her concern that things might come to that, and the Ottoman Empire might reach his castle, and from the compliment he gives her.

"I most earnestly hope that we can hobble their advance long before they reach Wallachia, my lord." Her brow furrows with worry, trying to imagine troop movements and advancements, what she knows of all of that. It's of little use. She's a diplomat, not a military tactician. She doesn't have a sense of the size of their army in actual numbers, or even what those numbers would mean. Striga can extrapolate enormous significance out of a few statistics about an army, but to Lenore they're just men, cannons, horses. She has absolutely no idea what the potential reach of the Ottoman army is. "They'll reach here, regardless?" Her finger points down at the floor, eyes flicking side to side as she recalculates.

"I confess, I have no aptitude for military strategy. My interest and skill lies in influencing the people who serve as lynchpins--whether that's the common people or the commander of an army. I ... I would send either a diplomatic envoy or a spy. Both. I know that probably you already have. It's ... I feel that we need to glimpse whatever's at the heart of the secrecy of their Empire. Either to reassure ourselves that it's nothing but human ambition, or to know for certain the nature of our enemies."

He inclined his head slightly and offered a small unconcerned shrug of his shoulders. "We will not. There is not enough land between their hunger and this castle, and the human royalty will put up a fight, but it would eventually require a retreat. We will see how bold they are," he remarked. He had listened to many accounts of how the Ottoman's moved their people, diplomats and military.

"Perhaps when they do come to my front door, you shall negotiate on my behalf," he remarked casually. He would be very interested to see how Lenore performed diplomatically with an army in front and behind her; he theorized that she could make ground no matter the situation. If he was wrong, he would simply crush the army waiting on his doorstep and scatter their bodies throughout the land to blame the Wallachia royalty and provide them fame. Hell, he might just do it anyway to prove the futility of conquest he resided.

"Military strategy is about knowing your armies strengths and weaknesses, when to employ each, a strong knowledge of terrain, a willingness to make necessary sacrifices without expending the over half the value of your forces and creativity." He set his glass down and turned his head to regard her, admiring her willingness to learn. "Learning the heart of any empire requires conversation with those within. Usually that necessitates travel to be closer to the source of your discomfort."

Lenore nods her agreement that she would certainly negotiate on his behalf if their enemies reached his threshold, though she still hoped that it could all be prevented before it reached that point.

"Yes," she agreed at the end, a little bit hesitant because she wasn't sure what he had in mind. Though she wasn't yet sure what she had in mind for the whole situation, either. "If you want me to go as your diplomat or your spy, I will. I don't much want to--I mean, I'm terrified of the dangers, if any of my most wild imaginings are even a little bit true--but I will. If I go openly as a diplomat, it would mean not getting past whatever facade they put up, but I could perhaps assess more than that through observation, and it would be good to know what they're openly willing to discuss. If I go in secret, as a spy, I could get quite a bit closer to their secrets, but it makes the situation vastly more dangerous for me."

She had some ideas, but she also instinctively wanted to retreat to cover. She'd been in very unpleasant and desperate diplomatic situations before, but that had always been through necessity, trying to forge the safest path through a dangerous situation. She didn't personally need to deal with this situation. She could decline to do more than advise and remove herself back to Styria. It wasn't her neck on the line, unless she chose to help. Though she did like the prospect of increasing her value to Dracula, she wasn't sure if the risk was worth it.

Vlad had already considered the realities of their future situation, and while it pained him to think that he may have to leave the comforts of his castle, a part of him thrilled with the memories of the old days. Back then, he had done many actions solely on his own to consolidate the necessary powers in order to be an insurmountable target for his enemies. He had worked decades and centuries gathering ties, negotiating and killing those that affronted him.

Then, when he had had it all and could have toppled entire nations - and those of the vampire circles knew it - he had simply withdrew to pursue other interests. He left the threat of what he was capable of be enough to keep a tether on. But those exploits had been alone, and being alone did not bother him. However, he didn't deny the warmth of pleasant intellectual company either.

If Lenore understood the personal risks of both travel and being amid a country of potential expansionism hostilities, so did he. He saw no benefit to sacrificing her, not when she had proved her loyalty and wit time and time again.

"And would it put you at ease should I decide to travel with you?" This was all hypothetical, of course. He needed more information before he felt it worthwhile to walk into the Ottoman Empire, but if it came to him, he had everything he needed right here in this castle. "I would not put you in a position where you would be in danger. It benefits neither of us for you to be frightened. As long as you continue to reside in my home and assist me with such issues, you will have my protection."

"It would," Lenore said, immediately soothed at the thought of it. She feels entirely safe in his presence. Nothing can harm her and he won't allow her to suffer any indignity. "Of course it would. I trust you. And I struggle to imagine anything that could get past you." Her cheeks flush again, blood rising to the surface, her skin still rosy and warm compared to her sisters. Quick to show her emotions. Even though she knows how to shift her displays of emotion to make others interpret them in one way or another, she can't help the way they well up.

She turns her attention to resetting the chess board, placing the pieces back where they belong. She feels a little bit foolish, knowing that she's so young compared to him, and she's not sure how much help she can be--or has been--aside from spouting wild theoreticals. Like a nervous little bat, fluttering its wings and hopping around, all energy and emotion. He's promised that she'll be safe with him, and she can't imagine anything that would present a true challenge to that promise. Even in the very worst case scenario, with armies at his gate and a god-like being leading them, she imagines that they'd disappear quietly somewhere safe, to one of the distant corners of the world.

But it still makes her blush to confess that she trusts him and that she feels safe in his presence. She wants to be able to stay here, in his presence, because she craves safety above almost all other things.

It was a trait of the young to muster a blush on their skin. It was a reminder that significant age and experience spanned between them, but her words, concepts and thoughts were beyond her current years. It was a rather enlightening mixture, and it kept him on his toes as well, which was an admitted rarity these days. It was easy to think he had seen most that there was to see.

"It is a rare thing for something to slip passed my guard these days, but..." he turned his red eyes on her delicate hands as she reset the chess board. He swirled his wine as if he might even drink it all tonight. "There are some that have accomplished such a feat. You just might be one of them," he admitted softly. "But an enemy, that is unlikely so you will be protected while under my roof."

He gestured with a hand at the board as it was set up, not particularly interested in a game tonight but willing to entertain it if it meant stealing an hour or so more of her time. "Do you fancy a game, or shall we enjoy our wine in peace?"

Lenore blinked in surprise at the statement that she'd slipped past his guard. Her fingers paused, a pawn hovering above the chessboard as her whole mind ground to a halt for a moment and then restarted in a new gear.

She'd slipped past his guard--or 'might' have, he'd buffered the statement with a caveat. What did that imply? He trusted her? Or something more nuanced?

She desperately wanted to learn more, to find out what that meant and make space for herself inside his guard. He felt as unreachable as the stars, lofty and cool, and most of the time she couldn't read any emotion off of him other than 'polite interest'. Who was he, beyond the walls that he put up to keep other people at a distance?

So much of her skills and experience had made her a master at worming her way within emotional defenses, especially with men, and thereby gaining influence and power. She was such an expert that in this case, apparently, she'd done so without meaning to. But she didn't want to manipulate him in that way. And she absolutely didn't want him to suspect that she was manipulating him in that way.

She wanted to step inside his defenses. His comment was the tiniest bit almost like an offer for her to do so. An invitation, even if he hadn't meant to offer it. But she wasn't sure how to seize that opportunity without being ... the Lenore who had been the mistress of vampire kings, who had spent every day making subtle nudgings and coercions in order to keep herself valuable enough to be kept alive, charming enough to be treated with kindness.

There was no safer place than by his side, within his protection, and she valued his company. But she wasn't sure how to keep that place without him eventually suspecting her of being the manipulative courtesan that she had almost always been. A woman who gained and kept power through her sexuality. If two hundred years of habit kicked in and she slipped into that persona, she imagined he'd be ... displeased, to say the least. That made it dangerous to try and move herself closer to his side, to step within his defenses. And even if she tried to be forthright about the possibility--hey, so I might occasionally fall back on seductress habits--that wouldn't preclude him seeing her as manipulative and false if it happened. How would she manage to survive that?

She lowered the pawn into its rightful place on the board, and then returned her hands to her lap, blinking a few times as she came back from the long tangent of her thoughts and down to the crux of the matter. She wanted. She feared.

"What--" She began, eyes lifting back to him, wary and almost shy as she tried to shape her question. "Who are you, past your guard? I know that you're a scientist, a philosopher, driven by knowledge in nearly every capacity, but I haven't been able to read any emotions from you other than the occasional hint of amusement or irritation. What will I find, if I slip past your guard?"

Ah, it had been some time since he had caught her off guard, and he allowed himself a momentary victory to the surprise on her face. Had she not realized that his normal reclusiveness was much worse when she wasn't around? He had sought out moments of conversation knowing that she would bring a perspective that he may not have considered in some time or at all.

The questions paraded across her expression even as she finished setting up the board, but then he noted that she seemed to refrain from too much more. He was curious about what she was thinking about and if it was more than the implication of temptation. He knew her well enough to know what she craved after all.

He wondered if she had considered his own abilities to manipulate a situation for his own gain. The sister queens could be problematic, and securing one of them - their 'weak' link - allowed an easy win into their coalition. He had no interest in such things, but Lenore was smart and capable. She might have a dangerous past but so did he, long ago that it may be.

He raised an eyebrow at her careful question, not surprised by it but intrigued that she decided to set upon that path. He half expected her to take time to consider, to ponder the possibilities. He bought himself a few seconds of ponderance by setting down his wine glass next to the chess board and turned in his seat so that he was half facing her.

"Does the endless possibilities of what could be behind polite interest excite you?" He could show her many things beyond what he already had, but the crux of it was how much of themselves were they potentially willing to give into vulnerability? "As for who I am, that is a layered question. Perhaps you'll find a monster. Perhaps you'll find a gentleman. Perhaps nothing more than a man. Or all those and more. Just, as I expect, is the same as you."

That, she felt certain, was flirtation. It calmed her, setting her back into territory that she could deal with more easily--she'd grown comfortable with their philosophical conversations, discussing facets of possibilities, and this shift toward flirtation felt like more of the same, but without the same cordial distance they'd had before.

She felt reassured, too, that he accepted and invited the complexity of her. All people were complicated, often self-contradictory, and yet it was easy to diminish people into just one or two of their traits. To men, she'd been the madonna or the whore, usually both. To her sisters, she was the foolish little girl, the manipulative actress, or the competent-enough secondary administrator of castle affairs when Morana was away. She didn't often get to be a philosopher or a playful prankster. She felt all the more unseen whenever she was melancholy. It didn't fit into how people saw her, no matter how often she was melancholy.

Rising to her feet, she stepped around the chessboard and crossed to him, sitting down lightly across his lap. "All of those and more," she echoed, as confirmation. "You certainly are a gentleman, at least to me. And I do not doubt that you are and have been a monster." Most people, she was certain, had the capacity to be monsters--or to be kind. She thought that at least Dracula would be a more tasteful monster than the ones she'd known before.

Draping a gentle arm over his shoulder, she met his eyes. She still felt afraid, but she still wanted.

It had been a very long time indeed since he can considered a courtship of any kind. It was easy to fill the void of loneliness and absent love with all of his studies, his interests and the reminders of his dead wife that had put him on this path in the first place. Vampires were capable of love no matter what any of them would claim otherwise; it was easier to lean into the monstrous nature but vampirism only enhanced ones base urges.

With their long-lived bodies, courtships could take a very long time, but often they were far too eager to indulge in the thrills of an old life. Most jumped in with both feet to feed their egos and their primal urges. Once the ball was set in motion, vampires tended to lean right in. He was not above that either, though he had learned over the years to be cautious with his reasoning to why he did so.

He moved his arms out of the way as she came over to his chair, guessing correctly on what she might do. As she slid into his lap, he curled an arm loosely around her middle to stabilize her perch and then reached out with his other arm to curl around her knees in order to draw her legs up and also keep her dress hem politely over her ankles so she could rest her feet on the arm of his chair if she wished.

"And I will be a monster again, just as I will be a gentleman," he said simply. They were all many things, and to deny that was to disillusion oneself. There was a rare thrill to be close to someone like this and not be about to make an example of them; he and Lenore had had moments of being physically close as they leaned over an experiment and he explained the finer details of it. This was completely different. "I have no interest stopping you from being who you are, Lenore. The parts you hide or don't feel you can show others are what I find fascinating about you most."

Her enthusiasm for dissecting situations. Her word vomit on histories and other cultures was endearing. She was cautious of him - smart - but it didn't stop her from engaging.

"The question is: what are you hoping to find beyond my guard?"

As he drew her close, Lenore nestled comfortably into the embrace, resting her other hand on his chest and enjoying being held like this. It felt like a surprise that this was really happening. He desired her romantically, and probably physically as well. Having things that way around was new for her. Usually her sexuality was far more appealing to men than her romantic nature.

She considered the question, head tipping slightly to one side and eyes gazing unfocused into space as she thought through it. Did she have any particular hopes? Nothing that she was heretofore invested in. She hadn't speculated on the topic, because it seemed unlikely to be relevant. So she took a few moments to speculate now.

Perhaps he was uninterested in sex, and desired only the romance and companionship she could offer. Their current relationship would change very little, continuing with deeper trust and closer physical proximity, but mostly still just an exchange of words.

Perhaps he was voraciously sexual, with centuries of pent-up desire, favoring an array of kinks that humans could barely imagine. But she thought that she could trust him, even then, and that she would be a collaborator in such things rather than an object.

Her mind caught there, and she was surprised to find that it took effort to consider the question beyond the topic of sexual desire.

Perhaps he would be maudlin, lost in the sorrows of the past and the things he loved that were now centuries gone. Perhaps he would be playful, with a love of pranks and wicked jests.

She already knew him to be observant, thoughtful, respectful of her space, her body, her identity. Those things would not change. Would he be attentive and doting, showering her with little gifts, or distracted and distant, keeping their romance carefully compartmentalized away from other matters?

That. Her heart snagged there. The other possibilities she could give or take, accepting whatever she found. But she didn't think she could bear being kept at arm's length by a lover who had so many more important things to distract his mind. Still, to ask for such a thing seemed absurdly bold. All the words that came to mind made her feel grasping--I want to be the most important thing in your life. I want you to ache for me if we're apart.

Start smaller. The way she'd first thought of it: attentive and doting.

"Affection," she said at last, returning his gaze to his. "Warmth--as in a tendency toward romantic gestures, even just small ones. I think ... I would be disappointed if I found that the man beyond your guard was cool, aloof, or forgetful. Anything else that comes to my mind, I think I will be content with whatever I learn of your nature. But I suppose I do hope that you are ... sweet."

Her cheeks flushed and her eyes dropped away as she finished this little speech. If his nature was contrary to her hope, she would feel foolish--and maybe a little selfish.

Who would dare snuggling into his broad chest and make themselves so comfortable? He expected anyone that might be on that list were long dead, and his brief flings were a good century or more old. They were incapable of producing their own body heat unless they made an active sacrifice to do so, but the weight of her body against his own was oddly welcome.

As he thought, she didn't push either, didn't take a risk to see what it was that he could offer now that he had let her in his physical space like this. She was as polite as he expected her to be, and he appreciated that; his tolerance for blatant hunger and frantic expressions of lust were admittedly low. This slow coming together was something he enjoyed. It showed him a respect that he always hoped to show her in return. She was not flesh to satisfy but an intellect to engage with on multiple levels.

He did not urge her with any gesture or noise for an answer. That she took her time to consider earned more of his respect. Lenore was a romantic at heart; he knew that. She had explicitly told him that her sisters didn't take her seriously on such topics, but he found the innocent want to be cared for to be valid. Was she taking her time to formulate an answer that expressed some of those vulnerabilities again?

And her eventual answer didn't displease him. That she felt she could be honest meant that they had built a trust. He had considered that she could be manipulating him, but he expected that she had already considered that. "There will be times when I am consumed by my interests, but it would be entirely unintentional. It has been well over a century since I considered entertaining a courtship," he remarked truthfully. That's what this was, wasn't it? A courtship.

He made a noise in his throat at her last word, amused and not unkindly. He moved his hand from cupping her ankles lightly to taking one of her hand so he could bring the back of it to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss. "There is no one living who would call me sweet. Perhaps you shall have that opportunity."

He looked at her over the curve of her own wrist. "Will you accept a courtship, Lenore?" He was asking to respect her right to choose as a women if this was what she wanted, but also to remind them both of the risk it would be. Politically and emotionally.

Her cheeks stayed flushed as he kissed her hand, pleasure coursing through her. It was so flattering to be considered in this way, to be valued for her wit and personality above her other traits, and to be the center of attention for someone so powerful.

She was obligated to consider the implications, and her debts and vows to her sworn sisters. She would still be available to them as needed, especially with Dracula's ability to transport her, and this alliance would only further increase their influence and their safety. Carmilla would tease her about seducing Dracula, and assume that she'd done it for the power and luxury. Morana would think that Lenore's head had been turned by the romance of it, a fairy-tale princess wanting a handsome and charismatic king. Striga would assume that Lenore wanted the safety. Each version made her feel ... small. But no matter her decision, they would only see a small version of her, a little sister, easily dismissed.

Nodding, her fingers curled inwards, gripping his hand in a little display of both nerves and yearning rather than simply allowing her hand to be held. "Yes," she whispered, feeling reckless and impulsive despite also having absolute confidence in her decision.

Vlad also was obligated to consider the implications of possible favourtism among those who were in his court. It would be the first or the last vampire union, but there could be ramifications for other vampire lords and ladies to feel threatened or intrigued or disgusted. He cared little for the gossip of it, aware it would keep tongues wagging long into the nights and even some days.

He found his need to consider the sister queens. They were not a coalition to trifle with for most, and he had no doubt that Carmilla would attempt to take advantage of the increase of status that his favour brought. Morana and Striga would be far more tactical, likely expecting that this matter would be short-lived; they would likely keep to themselves given the rumours of their own romantic attachments to each other.

His clawed fingers closed around her fingers in a return gesture. He continued to watch from as he added a second kiss to the back of her hand. "Then it seems we are in agreement on such a matter. Do you wish secrecy or would it suit you to allow others to know either as they come by the information or witness us together?" Her answer would change how he treated her during court gatherings of course, and it also meant he may or may not need to silence maidservants.

She considers briefly, always taking his questions seriously and often finding them unexpected, things that no one has ever asked her about. But in this case she's certain of her answer quickly. "I'd prefer to be able to live honestly," she states. Though she assumes that he prefers the same, she does feel nervous at the thought of him wanting to be more secretive about this new complication, which some will interpret as a weakness. Many of the others may not know about her past before Carmilla, since none of the vampire lords whose courts she was in previously are still alive. But those who do know might suspect that she's looking to take a similar position now, as mistress to a vampire lord, with all the more power.

She doesn't doubt that this will draw negative attention to her and make her a target, but she feels confident that she can deal with that. Dracula will prevent any physical harm to her, and she can absolutely deal with courtly politics.

He nodded his head, accepting the answer without protest. He had no reason for such secrets himself, but she was the negotiator in many political situations and it was unclear how her association with him might alter outcomes. "Very well, we have no reason to hide such a courtship, and so we will not. It will give others something to gossip about for some time anyway. It's been some time since I stirred gossip circles that I'm aware of." And he frankly did not care for the opinions of most; it was just important to respect him or fear him.

Thankfully, there were very few that would openly move again him or anyone under his protection. He offered a small squeeze of her hand and lightly stroked her back with his other hand. "I shall arrange for a special meal to treat you with, shall I?"

"I'd like that," Lenore confirms, though she does wonder whether he means a meal of food or of blood. She doesn't question it, trusting that whatever he provides will be pleasing for her.

Leaning in, she presses a soft kiss to his cheek, sweet and chaste. As much as she desires him, she doesn't want to rush into anything. The prospect of being courted sounds lovely, and she wonders what it will entail. "Shall I start calling you Vlad now, instead of 'my lord'?" There's a slightly teasing note to the question, and she thinks that she perfectly well might still call him 'my lord' from time to time just to be playful.

He nodded his head, and he already had a meal in mind that they could share that both would surely enjoy. It would have to remain a surprise for now, of course. Strategizing - even for meals - could bring him pleasure when he decided it was worth the consideration, and given the tilt of their relationship, he considered it a worthwhile endeavor. Courtship was meant to be a romantic affair after all; they had no reason to use it for strengthening alliances like humans of course.

He wasn't surprised by the kiss to his cheek, but he had to admit that he was unexpectedly pleasant. He could be charming and charismatic after all, and he also recognized that Lenore could rival him potentially in that. Her affection filled a tiny bit of the old repressed loneliness. The corner of his lips pulled in a smile at her question. "You may call me as you like. Vlad, Dracula, my lord... as it suits you," he replied truthfully. "In this courtship and whatever else may come, we are equals."

Her chin ducked again, shy with pleasure at being asked to be his equal in this courtship. It felt like so much being offered to her. More than she felt she was worth, even though she had spent so much of her life ensuring that she was valued more highly than any other jewel that a vampire warlord or king might own. She'd still, in those courts, always been a thing to be owned. Now, she had a place at the side of the most powerful of any of the vampire lords she'd known, and he wanted her to be his equal.

But her chin didn't stay down for long. She wanted to focus on the pleasure of his company, rather than her own nerves.

"I like the sound of that," she murmured softly. Tucking close, she pillowed her head on his shoulder. Even though there was no warmth to him, the comfort of being held like this soothed a deep instinctual need inside of her. "Will you tell me about some of the science you've been working on while I've been away?" She wanted no more talk of politics and diplomacy for the night. She wanted to simply be in his presence, whether to read or to talk of anything at all. His experiments were a reliable topic to get him to talk, filling the time so that she wouldn't feel that she had lingered too long in his lap.

He relaxed into his large chair when she settled in against him, and he was pleased when she rested her head to his shoulder. One hand moved from her leg to cup her dainty feet, stroking the top with a thumb as he enjoyed her company. His arm tightened around her shoulders to hold her close against him where they were cuddling. He could sit with her in silence or in conversation for many hours.

He made a soft noise at her request, tipping his head back against the chair as he considered the numerous theories he had in the works that he was trying to validate with evidence. He had shown her a few experiments, and she had been politely interested in what he worked on and how he set up his projects.

"I'm currently continuing my work with fungi and their medical implications. Drying out their fruiting bodies and boiling or breathing the fumes is the most current curative methods, but I suspect that there are other methods that can extract their properties." He dropped his head so that his chin rested on the top of her head. "Distill? Mix with certain herbs? I haven't found the correct combination for afflictions."

He then took a moment to launch in the details of each of his current experiments, laying each out and walking through how he had come up with the theory and which elements were successes or which were not the providing evidence to his theory. All the while, he stroked the top of her feet with his thumb.

She loved hearing him talk, on this or any other topic. It was true, however, that his experiments held her attention less than the other subjects they discussed. Comfortable as she was in his lap, with his arms safe around her and his hand gently caressing at her foot, she let her eyes close as she focused on the pleasure of his grasp and his voice.

Inevitable, then, that after a few minutes her mind drifted away, sinking into a slumber. Her hand slipped from where she'd left it resting against his chest, falling into her lap like a cherry blossom drifting down from a tree.

He continued to explain to the most minute detail the current experience, including the pH of the water, the microelements as he was aware of them and the application of heat or humidity over all. He was aware of her relaxing against him further, and he knew the moment that she fell asleep against his shoulder. That she was tucked against his body and all the danger that he could be and fell asleep was telling.

For a few minutes, he simply kept talking, but his red eyes dropped to study her sleeping face. His fingers continued to stroke her foot through the fabric of her dress, and he let his head lean back against his chair for a moment of consideration. How long had it been since someone slept on or near him? Longer than he cared to admit.

Slowly, his voice trailed off to silence, only the crackling of the fire providing background noise. After watching her sleep for some minutes, he made the decision and leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering against that soft pale skin for half a minute before he gathered her up carefully in his arms and rose from his chair to take her to her bed chambers.

Lenore gave a soft sound as she was picked up, shifting a little in his arms. She was dimly aware of what was happening, but felt safe and trusting enough that her mind found no reason to try and wake up properly. She felt so cozy and safe, content in the knowledge that he would care for her. He was sweet, in his own way, and she was increasingly getting to see that, which was a lovely treat.

Nestling her cheek against his shoulder, Lenore made another sleepy noise and curled her fingers around the front of his shirt.

While standing, he waited for her to settle into his arms or potentially wake. When she remained peacefully asleep and even nestled her face to his shoulder, he tightened his grip on her as he turned to ease from the room. He abandoned games, wine and the hearth to travel through the castle depths to the guest quarters where he had intended Lenore and her waiting staff to have plenty of room and privacy for their own business.

Of course, making the journey with her in his arms, it did seem a rather long distance to travel. He didn't consider it terribly though as it allowed him to continue to hold her, monopolizing time he might otherwise lose on a hand off with the maid servants. In fact, he made a concerted effort in the corridors to avoid them.

He arrived to her bed chambers. It would be considered rude to admit himself to a lady's chambers without invitation first. Yet, he shouldered in knowing he could be breaking her confidence and trust, all so he could be the one to set her gently upon her bedding. He did so slowly in an attempt to not disturb her sleep, even going so far as to use his index finger to move some of her red hair back to be behind her pointed ear.

"Sleep well, my dear," he whispered softly.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Diplomacy and Romance

just me going off on wild historical tangents

/claps enthusiastically

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