Chapter Text
The idea of walking into the village had no threat to it. Heisenberg’s reign over the lycans ensured this. Betraying his word meant their ill fate. And many knew this. So as you slowly closed the gates of the factory, you let your guard down.
You walked on dead grass and stone before reaching the snowy lands of the village. The gates of shut in homes howled as cold winds traveled. Spare papers and torn clothing brushed the heels of your boots, crunching and melting into the snow. The shawl barely protected your skin from the harsh cold. Being in Heisenberg’s factory had conditioned you to grow comfortable within the heat. How fitting for the most hot headed lord to be encased in a hot concrete fortress. Your small exhale of amusement had caused vapor to form in the air. It grew colder.
As you were about to look at the map of the village, you heard creaking wood nearby. A wagon bearing gifts from foreign lands had settled atop the hill of ice. A sense of relief occurred, the idea of not bringing anything home not being to your liking. You carefully climbed icy steps and pushed the metal gate. Broken chains fell as the gate came to a stop. The noise had brought the attention of the trader, big and happy. “Ahhh! The inventor’s love, how may I be of service to you?” His hand came in your direction. A handshake was shared, his other hand clasping yours on top. You had never noticed how warm he was, physically at least.
“Hello Duke. I hope business has been treating you well.” Your smile made the man chuckle.
“Thank you, but it has been slow. The lycans in the north have been scaring off my customers. Something has gotten into them.” He reached back into his caravan, pulling out a bottle of cinnamon, carefully wrapped with small twine. Heisenberg had always presented himself as very hardheaded and cold blooded but it was a common ritual for you to hide cinnamon in his work station after a hard week. It was strong enough to make itself known against the stench of oil and death. The scent had a calming effect on him, he’s begun to associate it with you.
“Here’s your order. I’ve also collected any scraps I’ve found along my rounds. It’s a lighter collection this time, so don’t worry about those feet growing tired.” An exchange of lei had finalized the interaction. As you began to walk off with your bag of scraps, the Duke spoke up, “Oh, I forgot to mention, I’d stray away from the river. The moroacia have gotten more agitated this season…” You thanked him for the advice as you walked down the stone staircase.
It wasn’t unheard of for the moroacia to have made their way out of Castle Dimitrescu but it wasn’t common either. The castle gates were always shut but every now and then, a fleeing maid may push their way out. Their survival was never assured, even after escaping the castle. Unlike you, they didn’t have protection from the lycans. Speaking of, you spot one snarling from behind the statue in the middle of the village. However he is not snarling at you.
“See something?” You jokingly ask the Lycan, not really expecting any reply other than more snarls and huffs. You go to pass him, however the large gates of House Dimitrescu were wide open. The path into the “vampire’s” den wasn’t empty, the Moroacia roaming and clawing their way out. Your breath hitched and you froze. Your stare was still, watching the moroacia’s back, hoping they didn’t turn around. Then a roar. The lycan from behind you made you jump, catching your attention, as well as the moroacias.
The moroacias hissed and charged towards you and the Lycan roared once more, calling for their brethren. You wondered if Heisenberg had informed them to keep you away from harm. As more lycans surrounded you from behind, the moroacias had circled you. You fumbled for your spare revolver, but the bag of scraps had made it difficult to quickly draw it.
The cold metal fit loosely in your hands as a lycan rushed in trying to make distance between you and the moroacias. The revolver slipped from your hands, falling along the path to the castle. The chaos was unintelligible as monsters of both kinds ripped into one another, fighting over your fate. You took the chance to run for the gun and spun around, attempting to aim at the undead without hitting your only defense.
Shots fired in front of the castle. The moroacia fell to the ground, allowing the lycans to finish them off. One went down. Then two. Three. Four- Before you could pull the trigger on the fifth approaching creature, a hand had dug its way out of the snow, grasping your ankle and biting into your calf. You cried out as teeth broke the skin, your blood began to pool into your leather boots. Five. The creature below you had a bullet through its skull as you kicked off the rotting corpse. You watched as they grew in numbers faster than you could shoot. The lycans were now further as you stumbled down the castle path trying to gain distance. The bite was deep and your muscles screamed. You shakily aimed your gun as you tried to walk backwards. You fall onto the hard snow, your leg unable to support you. Six. As the moroacia turned to rubble on the floor, another crushed its ashes under its heel as it marched foward. Seven.
Your revolver clicked as the seventh moroacia fell into two. The sound of slicing blades were heard behind you as the adrenaline pumped through your heart. The moroacia stopped, and parted from the stone path. The lycans growled and howled, running back behind the castle gates, watching you and prowling. You looked behind you, coming face to face with a warm white dress. Your gaze followed up, a gloved hand clenched and another at guard, bladed fingers ready to strike.
A soft scowl looked down at you, pale and elegant. Glit eyes pierced yours, goosebumps growing where the cold couldn’t reach. Her pearls seemed to glow in the snow. Accents of gold connected each piece. A gold and copper crest sat upon her chest, accompanied by three pristine black roses. Black curls and a black hat framed her face. Among all the monotone colors, her red lips stood out. They frowned at you. Your face grew warm. Embarrassed by your own staring. Against her white skin, your face was surely red.
“Lady Dimitrescu… My lord, may you spare me. I will be gone and away from your castle. I am in debt to you and I’m afraid I cannot repay you. I have nothing of-“ you rambled as you glanced back at the uneasy lycans. They continued to snarl at the woman before you, waiting. Your sentence was cut off.
“I’m afraid you do.” She leaned down, towering over you and casted a shadow larger than yourself. The vapor of her breath brushed your face as firm hands grasped you. You were lifted into her body and the lycans grew agitated. Their growls grew more ferocious but she kept the charging beasts at bay as she simply drew her nails into a weapon. You never noticed the furrow in her brow and the scrunch of her nose until you were just a foot away from her face.
“Don’t worry, lll be back,” You tried to assure the lycans as castle doors began to separate you from the pack. Dimitrescu carried you through archways and doors before coming to a fireplace. You stared in awe of the architecture, each piece of wood seemed like an art piece. The grand stairs and chandelier kept your focus as you were softly placed on one of the couches.
“Cassandra!” The lords voice boomed through the castle, practically shaking the vase of flowers in front of you. Flies buzzed and swarmed through your hair and by your ears. You shut your eyes and bowed your head. The sound of long sniffs made the hairs stand up on your back. Cassandra giggled to herself as she formed before her mother.
“Mmm. She smells sweet. Fresh.” You looked up to see a girl, her hair as black as the blood on her mouth. A grin scrunched her eyes and her nose.
“No my dear, she is a guest. Tell the maids to prepare some tea and come to aid…” her voice was so smooth and firm that you barely noticed she was asking for your name. So you gave it to her. She repeated it with a smile on her face. You wish you could hear her speak your name once more. Cassandra looked back at you, her smile faded as she mumbled “yes mother.” If the lord didn’t know her daughters so well, she would’ve missed the slight swarm of flies gathering atop the stairs.
“Thank you my lady.” She looked down at you once again. Your hands were clasped together, visibly cold from walking the village roads. She ignored the twitch in her eye as she looked down at your foot. It was bleeding onto the carpet beneath you, but she couldn’t find herself to be angry. Her stomach twisted in something she hadn’t felt since she saw her daughters being experimented on for the first time. She felt guilt. Guilt that she let it happen. But if it weren’t for the moroacia latching onto you, she wouldn’t have known you arrived at her castle.
“So, are you my brothers plaything that I’ve been hearing about.” You turned your head at the question, which was more of a statement. “Word travels fast when you have nosey daughters.” A slight buzz was heard from a distance.
Your body seized up. You knew the two lords hated each other out of any of them.
The only thing you could think of was the reaction Heisenberg will have once he finds out you’re in the “super sized bitch”’s castle. “If you mean his partner, I’d say yes. But he does not own me as I don’t own him.” It was partially a lie, he was very protective of you. “May I ask how you were able to guess so quickly? What gave it away and made me different than the other village folk?”
She leaned to sit on the chair adjacent to your seat. “You have soot behind your ears and underneath your nails. You also smell of oil and rust.” Your face flushed again. How long had you been without properly seeing yourself in the mirror. Sure you took care of yourself but used grimy water and polished metal as a substitute for a proper mirror.
Your nervous laughter didn’t go unnoticed as Dimitrescu further examined you. The clothes you wore were filthy to say the least and not suited for the weather in the village. It was… unacceptable.
She quickly rose to her feet, causing you to jump. “Bella! Daniela!” She called for her other two daughters and another swarm of flies danced their way down the carpet steps. The redhead and blonde stood beside their mother, Bella watching you and Daniela swaying on her heels. “Tell Cassandra to bring the tea to my dressing room and tell the maids to start the bath, only halfway with warm water. Quickly now.” The buzzing began once again and faded as quickly as it started. “I assume your leg hasn’t healed since the last I picked you up.” You exhaled through your nose as you smiled. You made a move to stand but the lord grabbed you the same as before.
You traveled through more doorways and elegant halls. The detail on the smallest door handle was impressive to say the least. You wondered how long it took to have such a place completed. You two came to a corridor of doors. The mutant woman brought you into a bathroom. The water was run just as she wanted and medical supplies were set on the wardrobe beside it. “Would you like some help getting into the bath or would you like a maid of mine to assist you.”
“No thank you, I’ve managed to hop on one leg to get to point A to point B. I’ll be ok.” She looked hesitant to leave you however it was your choice and she respected it.
“I will leave you a new set of clothes in my dressing room. Once you’re finished, I’ll send a maid to fix up your leg and bring you to my room.” You thanked her once more, bowing your head as she stood up. Before she left, she noticed a necklace dangling from your neck, an iron chain with a steel bolt interconnected.
And just like she said, a maid came to your care, wrapping your leg with gauze and linen. Your reflection within the mirror stopped you. You were covered in scars from your neck down. Scratches, burns, bites and cuts alike. Your eyes had dark circles and your hands were rough. After one last glance, you walked into the dressing room and saw her white marble vanity. On top of it was various perfumes and a hairbrush. The maid in the corner, waiting for you to dress, visibly tensed as she watched you pick up a perfume and bring it to your nose. It smelled of rose. You set it down and looked at the sofa beneath the window. A purple victorian gown lay folded with a pair of white flats.
After adorning the dress, you noticed the gown exposed your shoulders and collar bone. The sleeves started in the middle of your arms with a poof and continued into a lace sleeve. You wondered if the purple material was silk. One last thing sat on the cushions underneath the dress, a necklace of silver with a ruby hanging from it.
You traveled once more through the halls, following a brunette maid. A satchel was provided, holding your old clothes and the items you had brought into the castle, although, the scraps you had bought were no where to be found.
You found yourself within the lord’s chambers. The maid returning to her duties leaves you alone. You take in the sheer size of her bed alone. The thought of indulging yourself and laying among the many pillows and blankets is too tempting. You notice a desk beside it and on it is a chalice. You pick it up and recognize its silver, details carved into its sides. A smear of red lipstick is left behind. The sound of a door opening makes you realize just how close the cup was to your lips. You softly place the cup back in its place as the lady of the castle enters.
“Thank you for the dress my lord. I can’t imagine how much this costs…” you thank her and begin to softly sway in the dress as you fiddle with it. She softly smiles to herself. When you entered her castle, she could only imagine how Heisenberg saw you. A girl of resilience and beauty. However unlike Heisenberg, she didn’t see you as this machine that needed to be understood but as a porcelain doll that needed to be preserved. Protected. She felt her own throat grow parched as she straighten out her form and clasped her hands.
“My dear, I have a proposal for you.” Your eyes shot up to her, following as she sat in her desk chair beside you. She was huge compared to you and her sitting was taller than you standing up straight by just a hair. You listened to her as she grasped your hand. “How would you feel if you stayed in castle Dimitrescu.” It seemed like all of her questions were practically demands.
“My lady, I-“
“Alcina.”
“Alcina…” the way it rolled off your tongue sent shivers through the both of you. The heat of her bedroom fireplace seemed to only burn brighter. Hotter. “Alcina… What about Heisenberg? What will he do when-“
“Forget about Heisenberg.” The way she spat his name made it sound almost evil. “That man doesn’t know how to treat a woman, a lady of such…” she looked down at your new necklace, and drifted back up to your eyes, “rarity.” Then she looked at your lips.
“But what about the lycans… they’ll miss me.” Your own thoughts get foggy and your breath grows thick. You try to think of another excuse but all you can think of is how her eyebrows wrinkled in concentration and need. How her skin looked so warm. How her hair curled against her skin. How red her lips were. How much her rose perfume is overpowering the scent of your cinnamon satchel.
“Let them.” Her gloved fingers graze the back of your ears and beneath your jaw. Your mouth is agape and your eyelids heavy. Your lips brush against one another, and in that moment, you both know what your answer is.