Dracula (Mina) FIC
Title: Take the Weight
Author: Lint
Part: 1/1
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Mina Murray, Lucy Westenra
Category: Future Fic
Archiving: LJ, Fanfic.net, or ask.
Disclaimer: All respected copyrights belong to their rightful owners.
Summary: It's a startling contradiction. This thing she's become. Not dead, but not yet alive.
/\/\/\
The body drops at her feet.
A wet, heavy thump, that doesn't echo off the brick lined walls.
She looks upon the hands that caused it, having never seen such a shade of red, still warm and sticky against her skin. The urge to lap up the small remnant is almost overwhelming, the hunger never quite sated.
Lucy stands a few feet away, looking pleased as a lioness would with her cub. It was she, after all, who orchestrated this little exercise. She who steps forward, taking Mina's wrists in her hands, and pressing a kiss against the gore. She licks her bottom lip with hardly subtle satisfaction, causing Mina to shudder though not from pleasure, as Lucy would no doubt prefer.
Not from revulsion, nor fear either. Rather, it's the new warmth spreading throughout her insides, overtaking the cold in such a shift she can't help but react.
“You've done so well,” Lucy says with pride. “Far better than I with my first.”
Though Mina doesn't ask, her eyes must indicate for Lucy to carry on, as she does in oddly striking detail about the abhorrent state of which she'd left the poor undertaker. Details Mina would prefer to be ignorant of, despite her inquisitive nature being curious enough to hear.
It's a startling contradiction.
This thing she's become.
Not dead, but not yet alive.
The condition brought upon by someone claiming to love her, and the guidance of a friend who'd done nothing but betray in the final days of her own life.
Lucy lets her go, crouching down to grab hold of the man's ankle.
“Come along then,” she commands with an errant sense of cheer. “The night is still young and we must dispose of this and make the best of it. I hear there's a new social club not adverse to the presence of women. It might make for some interesting game.”
Mina leans down as well, grabbing an arm at the elbow, so he's not dragged along the cobblestones like so much refuse.
She nods her agreement to the proposal, and takes no pleasure in Lucy's accompanying smile.
/\
They do not sleep in coffins.
The notion seems ridiculous, despite Lucy telling her of Grayson's preference for them. Rather, they retreat into the basement of one of his properties, not yet seized by royal tax collectors. It's lavishly decorated of course, Lucy's talent for such things only enhanced by their shared affliction.
No light source can penetrate through the blackened walls, their new found enemy the sun, held conveniently at bay. They are safe as long as they are not discovered. Something, Lucy assures, there are fail safes put in place to prevent.
Mina sits on the corner of her bed, opposite the room of her companion. Despite the prickling loneliness, and Lucy's unspoken desire for it, they do not share a mattress as they once would have. Her hands are clean now, scrubbed and folded in her lap, as she watches Lucy remove her hat in the dim candlelight.
She doesn't blink, when Lucy catches her, nor does she acknowledge how it causes a flush in otherwise pale cheeks. Her eyes do avert elsewhere, when the blonde begins to shed her dress, and Mina quickly rises to do the same.
Minutes later, there is but a single candle illuminating the room, the flickering of which makes for interesting shadows to dance upon the walls. Lucy is suddenly at her side, a cautious hand brushing Mina's arm, waiting for the inevitable dismissal of her desires.
She does nothing when Lucy presses a kiss to her forehead, only says 'goodnight' in an even tone.
“Good night,” Lucy replies, fading into the black.
/\/\/\
A month passes and she begins to wonder if this is all there is.
They jump from party, to club, to event. Endlessly circling like sharks. Seduce, feed, dispose. The repetitive nature of which Mina tires from so easily. Lucy is in control. She says what they'll wear, where they'll go, who they'll take and Mina is always amenable because she simply doesn't care that much.
She was going to be a physician. Perhaps not the first woman to ever hold the position, but definitely the first in London, and bigger still all of England. Never once did she imagine her life to be a string of gluttonous debauchery.
Lucy has the rapt attention of a man with leering eyes and a walrus mustache, precisely the opposite of what she truly wants, but perhaps that's entirely the point. Once a man eater in the figurative, she oozes charm to the nth degree, spelling doom for those who fall under her spell with all literal connotations of the phrase.
Mina finishes her drink, quietly counts to ten, and slips away unseen out the back door.
-
The headstone is newly placed.
She can smell the disturbed earth, feel the sharp edges of freshly cut stone, as she traces the letters of his name. Jonathan had his faults, but loving her was never one of them, and unbeknownst to either of them it would be the reason for his death.
Alexander Grayson, for all his wit and bravado, was nothing more than a monster chasing a ghost.
An apparition bearing her likeness, her soul even, moments shared with him where she felt entirely like someone else and never feared what may become of her. Looking down at the slab of granite, she wonders how things may be different had she once ever felt such a twinge. Just once second guessed the motive. For all her cleverness, it was still so easy to be blinded by such captivating attentions.
The thoughts are fleeting, and moot, with Jonathan buried here and Alexander damned to hell by the fire that consumed him. But in the moment she aches with the finality of it all and sighs, as the single pained tear, falls down her cheek.
Lucy finds her there, however much time later, kneeling in the grass.
Approaching cautiously, she dares a hand on Mina's shoulder, allowed because she is still not ready to move. Fingers are cold, telltale of having not fed, and the brunette knows Mr. Walrus was left to his own devices the second her disappearance was noted.
“I thought-” Lucy says softy, letting the words hang in the air.
That she'd run off. That she'd left her all alone.
Mina rises to her feet, turns to see Lucy's expectant face, and offers and outstretched hand.
For a moment she thinks there may be tears of relief, but Lucy composes herself quickly, and twines their fingers together.
/\/\/\
The Order is decimated, but not entirely gone.
They are young, brash, and fail to grasp anything of true consequence until Mina is staring down the length of Lady Jayne's blades. What little history they share, contention over Grayson's affection and her encouragement of Lucy's betrayals, seems to goad the woman into sheer delight at the position.
She does not attack immediately, knowing her skill can overmatch Mina's strength, and only stares as if to see what all the fuss was about.
“Lucy did carry on about your cleverness,” Jayne says, turning the blade just so. “But anyone with half a mind would have left this city the second opportunity arose.”
Mina does not ask what is says about her, staying behind after everything she'd known burned to ash, especially considering her likely excommunication for failing to identify the beast in front of her due to her own selfish desires.
Jayne's heart beats steadily, Mina can hear it through the woman's chest, as if this is no different than any other encounter with one of her kind. The tip of the blade pushes against her abdomen, and even the slightest movement from either will surely pierce the skin.
For a moment, Mina wonders if it's possible for a vampire to bleed out, or would she be able to move about normally when run through.
“Mina!” Lucy shouts, suddenly appearing at the scene.
A cold, easy smile pulls at Jayne's lips, never removing her eyes from the adversary.
“Is that you lovely Lucy?” she replies. “The distress in your voice leads one to believe you've reunited. How quaint.”
“Let her alone,” Lucy pleads moving closer.
Jayne shifts slightly, the blade cutting into Mina's midsection, a pained gasp escaping.
“Now, now,” she warns. “One more step and we're likely to have a mess on our hands.”
“What is it that you want?”
“What she's always wanted,” Mina answers, flattening her hand against the blade and pulling it free. “To be like us.”
That smile comes back into play, the Lady not denying, but neither letting the blade down nor relaxing her stance. Lucy's eyes catch Mina's, words needless, the both of them proceeding on the same page.
“Is that so?” Lucy asks.
“Yes,” Mina answers again. “It would certainly explain how someone of her training could be so blind as to Grayson's true nature.”
Jayne still says nothing, turning her head just so, to keep the two of them in her field of vision.
“Darling,” Lucy says smoothly. “All you need do is ask.”
Mina smiles, pushing the blade downward with the back of her hand, which Jayne cautiously allows.
“I owe to you after all,” Lucy goes on. “Why, without your tutelage, this never would have come to be.”
Mina grabs for the Lady's arms, just as Lucy rushes her back, both actions in the blink of an eye. Jayne manages a single cry before the two tear at her throat.
/\/\/\
They do share a bed that night.
After unceremoniously tossing Lady Jayne's body into the Thames.
After Lucy offers to tend to the wound that, of course, has already healed.
Her sigh of relief is slow, tumbling down into a shudder.
“She was going to,” she starts quietly. “I thought she might actually...”
It's then that she realizes just how little their know of their condition. Neither are aware, aside from sunlight and beheading, of what it may take to actually perish in this form. Though her instincts tell her study and research will provide the answers, it's hard to think coming across information that couldn't be dismissed as old wives tales, would be easy.
Lucy doesn't retreat back to her bed, and Mina doesn't ask her to, falling back into the pillows as comfortably as they always had before. Lucy buries herself into the crook of Mina's neck, clinging as if she'll somehow disappear.
“I'm alright,” Mina assures.
It's not forgiveness she grants tonight. As stagnant and dull as Mina finds this existence, going through it on her own is an idea that has never crossed her mind. Though they were no longer friends in life, drowned in lies and subterfuge, this kinship by affliction is one she cannot do without.
The old life is gone.
She'll never be a doctor. Never marry. Never truly live again.
And remaining with Lucy cannot give her any of these things, but Mina knows with nary a doubt, were it possible she would.
Author: Lint
Part: 1/1
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Mina Murray, Lucy Westenra
Category: Future Fic
Archiving: LJ, Fanfic.net, or ask.
Disclaimer: All respected copyrights belong to their rightful owners.
Summary: It's a startling contradiction. This thing she's become. Not dead, but not yet alive.
/\/\/\
The body drops at her feet.
A wet, heavy thump, that doesn't echo off the brick lined walls.
She looks upon the hands that caused it, having never seen such a shade of red, still warm and sticky against her skin. The urge to lap up the small remnant is almost overwhelming, the hunger never quite sated.
Lucy stands a few feet away, looking pleased as a lioness would with her cub. It was she, after all, who orchestrated this little exercise. She who steps forward, taking Mina's wrists in her hands, and pressing a kiss against the gore. She licks her bottom lip with hardly subtle satisfaction, causing Mina to shudder though not from pleasure, as Lucy would no doubt prefer.
Not from revulsion, nor fear either. Rather, it's the new warmth spreading throughout her insides, overtaking the cold in such a shift she can't help but react.
“You've done so well,” Lucy says with pride. “Far better than I with my first.”
Though Mina doesn't ask, her eyes must indicate for Lucy to carry on, as she does in oddly striking detail about the abhorrent state of which she'd left the poor undertaker. Details Mina would prefer to be ignorant of, despite her inquisitive nature being curious enough to hear.
It's a startling contradiction.
This thing she's become.
Not dead, but not yet alive.
The condition brought upon by someone claiming to love her, and the guidance of a friend who'd done nothing but betray in the final days of her own life.
Lucy lets her go, crouching down to grab hold of the man's ankle.
“Come along then,” she commands with an errant sense of cheer. “The night is still young and we must dispose of this and make the best of it. I hear there's a new social club not adverse to the presence of women. It might make for some interesting game.”
Mina leans down as well, grabbing an arm at the elbow, so he's not dragged along the cobblestones like so much refuse.
She nods her agreement to the proposal, and takes no pleasure in Lucy's accompanying smile.
/\
They do not sleep in coffins.
The notion seems ridiculous, despite Lucy telling her of Grayson's preference for them. Rather, they retreat into the basement of one of his properties, not yet seized by royal tax collectors. It's lavishly decorated of course, Lucy's talent for such things only enhanced by their shared affliction.
No light source can penetrate through the blackened walls, their new found enemy the sun, held conveniently at bay. They are safe as long as they are not discovered. Something, Lucy assures, there are fail safes put in place to prevent.
Mina sits on the corner of her bed, opposite the room of her companion. Despite the prickling loneliness, and Lucy's unspoken desire for it, they do not share a mattress as they once would have. Her hands are clean now, scrubbed and folded in her lap, as she watches Lucy remove her hat in the dim candlelight.
She doesn't blink, when Lucy catches her, nor does she acknowledge how it causes a flush in otherwise pale cheeks. Her eyes do avert elsewhere, when the blonde begins to shed her dress, and Mina quickly rises to do the same.
Minutes later, there is but a single candle illuminating the room, the flickering of which makes for interesting shadows to dance upon the walls. Lucy is suddenly at her side, a cautious hand brushing Mina's arm, waiting for the inevitable dismissal of her desires.
She does nothing when Lucy presses a kiss to her forehead, only says 'goodnight' in an even tone.
“Good night,” Lucy replies, fading into the black.
/\/\/\
A month passes and she begins to wonder if this is all there is.
They jump from party, to club, to event. Endlessly circling like sharks. Seduce, feed, dispose. The repetitive nature of which Mina tires from so easily. Lucy is in control. She says what they'll wear, where they'll go, who they'll take and Mina is always amenable because she simply doesn't care that much.
She was going to be a physician. Perhaps not the first woman to ever hold the position, but definitely the first in London, and bigger still all of England. Never once did she imagine her life to be a string of gluttonous debauchery.
Lucy has the rapt attention of a man with leering eyes and a walrus mustache, precisely the opposite of what she truly wants, but perhaps that's entirely the point. Once a man eater in the figurative, she oozes charm to the nth degree, spelling doom for those who fall under her spell with all literal connotations of the phrase.
Mina finishes her drink, quietly counts to ten, and slips away unseen out the back door.
-
The headstone is newly placed.
She can smell the disturbed earth, feel the sharp edges of freshly cut stone, as she traces the letters of his name. Jonathan had his faults, but loving her was never one of them, and unbeknownst to either of them it would be the reason for his death.
Alexander Grayson, for all his wit and bravado, was nothing more than a monster chasing a ghost.
An apparition bearing her likeness, her soul even, moments shared with him where she felt entirely like someone else and never feared what may become of her. Looking down at the slab of granite, she wonders how things may be different had she once ever felt such a twinge. Just once second guessed the motive. For all her cleverness, it was still so easy to be blinded by such captivating attentions.
The thoughts are fleeting, and moot, with Jonathan buried here and Alexander damned to hell by the fire that consumed him. But in the moment she aches with the finality of it all and sighs, as the single pained tear, falls down her cheek.
Lucy finds her there, however much time later, kneeling in the grass.
Approaching cautiously, she dares a hand on Mina's shoulder, allowed because she is still not ready to move. Fingers are cold, telltale of having not fed, and the brunette knows Mr. Walrus was left to his own devices the second her disappearance was noted.
“I thought-” Lucy says softy, letting the words hang in the air.
That she'd run off. That she'd left her all alone.
Mina rises to her feet, turns to see Lucy's expectant face, and offers and outstretched hand.
For a moment she thinks there may be tears of relief, but Lucy composes herself quickly, and twines their fingers together.
/\/\/\
The Order is decimated, but not entirely gone.
They are young, brash, and fail to grasp anything of true consequence until Mina is staring down the length of Lady Jayne's blades. What little history they share, contention over Grayson's affection and her encouragement of Lucy's betrayals, seems to goad the woman into sheer delight at the position.
She does not attack immediately, knowing her skill can overmatch Mina's strength, and only stares as if to see what all the fuss was about.
“Lucy did carry on about your cleverness,” Jayne says, turning the blade just so. “But anyone with half a mind would have left this city the second opportunity arose.”
Mina does not ask what is says about her, staying behind after everything she'd known burned to ash, especially considering her likely excommunication for failing to identify the beast in front of her due to her own selfish desires.
Jayne's heart beats steadily, Mina can hear it through the woman's chest, as if this is no different than any other encounter with one of her kind. The tip of the blade pushes against her abdomen, and even the slightest movement from either will surely pierce the skin.
For a moment, Mina wonders if it's possible for a vampire to bleed out, or would she be able to move about normally when run through.
“Mina!” Lucy shouts, suddenly appearing at the scene.
A cold, easy smile pulls at Jayne's lips, never removing her eyes from the adversary.
“Is that you lovely Lucy?” she replies. “The distress in your voice leads one to believe you've reunited. How quaint.”
“Let her alone,” Lucy pleads moving closer.
Jayne shifts slightly, the blade cutting into Mina's midsection, a pained gasp escaping.
“Now, now,” she warns. “One more step and we're likely to have a mess on our hands.”
“What is it that you want?”
“What she's always wanted,” Mina answers, flattening her hand against the blade and pulling it free. “To be like us.”
That smile comes back into play, the Lady not denying, but neither letting the blade down nor relaxing her stance. Lucy's eyes catch Mina's, words needless, the both of them proceeding on the same page.
“Is that so?” Lucy asks.
“Yes,” Mina answers again. “It would certainly explain how someone of her training could be so blind as to Grayson's true nature.”
Jayne still says nothing, turning her head just so, to keep the two of them in her field of vision.
“Darling,” Lucy says smoothly. “All you need do is ask.”
Mina smiles, pushing the blade downward with the back of her hand, which Jayne cautiously allows.
“I owe to you after all,” Lucy goes on. “Why, without your tutelage, this never would have come to be.”
Mina grabs for the Lady's arms, just as Lucy rushes her back, both actions in the blink of an eye. Jayne manages a single cry before the two tear at her throat.
/\/\/\
They do share a bed that night.
After unceremoniously tossing Lady Jayne's body into the Thames.
After Lucy offers to tend to the wound that, of course, has already healed.
Her sigh of relief is slow, tumbling down into a shudder.
“She was going to,” she starts quietly. “I thought she might actually...”
It's then that she realizes just how little their know of their condition. Neither are aware, aside from sunlight and beheading, of what it may take to actually perish in this form. Though her instincts tell her study and research will provide the answers, it's hard to think coming across information that couldn't be dismissed as old wives tales, would be easy.
Lucy doesn't retreat back to her bed, and Mina doesn't ask her to, falling back into the pillows as comfortably as they always had before. Lucy buries herself into the crook of Mina's neck, clinging as if she'll somehow disappear.
“I'm alright,” Mina assures.
It's not forgiveness she grants tonight. As stagnant and dull as Mina finds this existence, going through it on her own is an idea that has never crossed her mind. Though they were no longer friends in life, drowned in lies and subterfuge, this kinship by affliction is one she cannot do without.
The old life is gone.
She'll never be a doctor. Never marry. Never truly live again.
And remaining with Lucy cannot give her any of these things, but Mina knows with nary a doubt, were it possible she would.