#how fast was jonathan's heart beating as he watched dracula pace around the room grabbing violently at whatever was in reach.

[vickyvicarious]

When, however, the conviction had come to me that I was helpless I sat down quietly—as quietly as I have ever done anything in my life—and began to think over what was best to be done.

I know it's late but I was thinking about this line again, and him specifically saying he sat down in his helpless misery as quietly as he'd ever done anything in his life broke my freakin' heart.

Something about the gentle despair of it all, the holding his feelings in tight tight tight, the image of him ceasing his frantic rush to just slow down. Stare at the latest lock. Turn around and slowly walk back into his room and once there shutting the door so gently it doesn't even click in the lock, then slowly just sliding down a wall and staring at the floor and even his breathing is so soft and silent... All this in my mind's eye knowing that Jonathan regularly understates things, so how bad must he have felt here! But he still sat there and put his mind to work and came up with a plan to figure out what he can do and... he's so CAREFUL, he knows he is in terrible danger and he is trying so so hard to make it out safe.

[anncanta]

Ouroboros

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Characters: Count Dracula, Agatha Van Helsing

Relationship: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Rating: Mature

@alma37 @hopipollahorror @khyruma @ravenathantum @flutteringphalanges

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Reflections of flame splashed across the walls in golden arabesques.

A naked man, covered in blood and slime, bent over to Agatha and stared at her.

‘One. It doesn't take much. One of them is enough for me to get inside,’ he said in an insinuating tone, holding up a long finger with a pointed nail.

‘You have it,’ Agatha said before she could grasp the meaning of her words.

Dracula raised an eyebrow.

‘I'll go with you if you leave them alone,’ she added, suppressing the panic that flared in her chest.

Squinting, Dracula tilted his head.

‘Leave them?’

Agatha nodded silently.

He stepped to the right, stopped, looking at the still-standing nuns with stakes in trembling hands.

‘So many possibilities... So many different tastes,’ he drawled slowly. ‘Why do you think you are worth all of them?’

Oh, she didn't think so. That's why she offered herself, Lord. Agatha thought feverishly.

‘All these women... have renounced earthly pleasures. They renounced desires, occupations, everything that makes up an ordinary life. What kind of memories will you get from them?’ Seeing the doubt on Dracula's face, she said quickly. ‘Stories of hard work, fasting, and prayer?’

Dracula ran a finger over his lips in thought.

‘The Mother Superior has a bad heart,’ Agatha continued, avoiding looking back. ‘Do you want to try aching pain and bitter herbal infusions?’

He was silent, and this gave Agatha confidence.

‘I saw a lot, learned a lot while traveling in my youth. I read many books and met different people. I know three languages, and... and in the end, if you eat me, you will learn something!’ She concluded angrily.

A completely boyish smile blossomed on Dracula's face.

Taking a step back to Agatha, he held out a blood-smeared hand.

Without giving herself time to be frightened and change her mind, Agatha put her hand in it. Very slowly, Dracula moved, dragging her along, until the gates of the monastery were behind her.

‘Agatha Van Helsing,’ Dracula said, looking into her eyes. ‘I'll make you last.’

With these words, he turned around and, still holding her hand in his, moved forward. After walking a few meters, he frowned and turned around.

‘You have a hungry vampire in your cell on the third floor. And with him is a wounded woman. If you want to save one of them, choose – whom and take care of it.’

***

It was cold in the castle.

Agatha did not remember when she was so cold. There were cold nights in the monastery; in especially harsh winters, the Mother Superior canceled evening services, because the floor and walls in the chapel were covered with frost. ‘The Lord will forgive me for such heresy,’ she said, ‘but He will not forgive me if, out of ostentatious obstinacy, I allow my neighbors to catch a cold and die.’ Many sisters condemned her. Agatha just smiled.

Finding herself in Dracula's castle, she reluctantly admitted to herself that she had never known anything about the cold before.

Agatha froze on the stairs, chattered her teeth in the room, shook in the corridors. She was chilly in the hall, shivering at the table in the main hall. And she considered it a blessing since there was a burning fireplace in the main hall.

The cold ate her food, making its way under the skin, forcing her to ruffle and walk from corner to corner. In motion, she slightly warmed up. Tired, she sat down to take a breath – and it all started all over again.

It seemed, Dracula did not notice her discomfort. Or rather, not that he noticed her. As far as Agatha could understand from their conversations (the conversations were a little distracting from the cold, so she tremendously appreciated them), he was preparing to move to England and was completely carried away by his daily affairs. When Agatha could not stand it and complained that because of the cold air in the room she could not sleep, he invited her to close the windows for the night, and the next evening he brought a sheepskin blanket. But the sheepskin stank so terribly that it overcame even the fear of dying of a cold.

With this something needs to be done, wandering half asleep at night along the corridor, thought Agatha. She herself did not know where she was going, but it was unbearable to stay in her room. It would be better if he killed her right away, she mused wearily. Anything is better than such torment.

The question of why Dracula still did not touch her worried her most of all – after the cold. When they got to the castle, Agatha waited for a hideous scene, perhaps right in the lobby or in the main hall, and honestly prepared herself to die with dignity.

After closing the large wooden door behind them, Dracula pointed to Agatha in the direction of the stairs, briefly explained how to get to the guest room, and turned around and left. And she remained – confused, tired and frightened – more than she was ready to admit to herself.

Agatha quickened her pace as she passed the grim portrait on the right wall.

Dracula was not distinguished by restraint and self-control. She could be convinced of this in the monastery. It seemed a miracle that he had not eaten her on the first evening, but it could be attributed to his own tiredness and satiety with the impressions of the cruel game. But couldn't he later...

She turned a corner and, rounding an antique cupboard, moved on until she stopped in front of a large black barrier. Agatha almost swore – wandering half asleep, it seems, she came to the bedroom of Dracula himself.

‘Do you go out at night, Sister Agatha?’

She looked up.

‘What do you want me to do? I still can't sleep. In my room…’

Dracula gave her a thoughtful look and pushed open the massive door.

‘You can sleep with me,’ he shrugged. ‘I have a blanket too.’

‘Sheepskin?’ Agatha asked resignedly.

‘A wool blanket,’ Dracula replied. He entered the room, leaving the door ajar.

Agatha stood on the threshold for a while and hesitantly stepped inside.

The room was spacious with a high ceiling. The fireplace was off, but a thick woolen blanket covered the large bed with a massive canopy. A door ajar in the far corner led into another room – perhaps a parlor or a library.

‘Aren't you sleeping in a stone sarcophagus?’ Agatha asked, looking at Dracula, who was sitting on the bed.

‘Only when I get tired of society,’ he smiled. ‘No,’ he continued in response to the look of impatient displeasure on her face. ‘I don't need the sarcophagus for sleep. This is an ancient tomb with a substrate from the Transylvanian soil. I sleep in it when I want to heal my wounds. The day before Jonathan found me there, I ran into peasants in the woods.’

‘I hope they beat you properly,’ Agatha said sincerely, going up to one of the chairs by the fireplace and sinking into it. And she shuddered – the leather upholstery was cold as ice. Only pride prevented Agatha from jumping up immediately.

Dracula, watching her from his seat, said nothing. He kicked off his shoes, climbed into bed, and threw back the covers to his right.

‘Well, are you going?’

The chair creaked under Agatha, who was leaning back.

‘Are you seriously offering me?..

‘I offer you a blanket,’ interrupted Dracula. ‘The only warm wool blanket in this room,’ he reminded indifferently. ‘I am ready to share with you a cozy bed,’ Dracula paused. ‘Or did you expect me to give it up to you and sleep in an armchair?’

Agatha, who had expected exactly that, remained silent with dignity.

‘If you don’t want to, stay where you are,’ Dracula shrugged his shoulders and pulled the blanket higher. ‘You will get warm from the candle on the table. Good night, Sister Agatha.’ He turned away and closed the bed curtain.

Agatha sat in confusion for a while. Her first impulse was to immediately get up and leave. But that would have strengthened Dracula's confidence in the victory of his irrepressible ego, so she just straightened angrily and lifted her nose.

It didn't last long, however.

How did anyone manage to survive in this castle, she thought irritably, getting out of the chair and stretching her arms and legs, numb from sitting in the same position and cold. Not surprisingly, the only inhabitant here is a vampire.

She cautiously walked forward as quietly as she could, approached the curtain of the bed, and pushed it back.

Dracula looked peacefully asleep and did not seem to hear her maneuvers.

For a moment Agatha gazed suspiciously at the impassive beautiful face, and then, having made up her mind and as if diving into the water, threw back the blanket and ducked under it.

The warmth that seized her almost immediately stunned Agatha. She had not felt the usual, physical warmth for so long. She missed it for so long and so desperately. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to completely immerse herself in it.

At first, the man's hands dropped on her shoulders do not distract her at all. Agatha lies there, enjoying the warmth and comfort, the long-awaited opportunity to let go of the tension, and the soft embrace of someone seems like a casual dream. Until...

‘Why are you warm?’ Agatha asks, opening her eyes.

She lies straight without moving. Escape still will not work.

‘What's so strange about that?’ Dracula's voice with a quiet breath – fleeting, unnecessary – slides down her cheek.

‘The books say that vampires…’

‘You read too much,’ he grins. ‘I am the same... in general, a living organism, like any other. Like a human being. Agatha, think,’ Dracula added impatiently, grabbing her with his left hand tighter, ‘I need food.’

‘Everything that eats gives off heat,’ Agatha murmured thoughtfully.

Dracula grunted approvingly. Again, his breath bit her lightly – now at the top of her neck.

‘If you're going to eat now…’ she began hoarsely.

‘Now I'm going to sleep,’ Dracula interrupted her. He moved, pulling her closer to him, literally surrounding her.

He was warm and large. Dangerous and predatory, Agatha reminded herself. The fear that accompanied her all this time in the castle again doused her with an icy wave – and retreated.

‘Why?’ Agatha asked Dracula, not knowing what.

‘Because I'm a vile, unpredictable monster,’ Dracula purred. ‘Sleep, Agatha,’ he said and buried his nose in her neck.

Asleep, she realized, dumbfounded.

For a couple of minutes Agatha lay, listening to the silence and rare breathing of Dracula, until, warming up and finally exhausted, she also fell asleep.

***

Agatha woke up contented and refreshed. Stretching slowly, she got up and turned on the other side. And then she froze in fright. She sat down sharply and looked around.

She was in her room, lying in bed. Turning her head, Agatha frowned. She clearly remembered that she had fallen asleep in the Count's bedroom. Did she dream about it, or what?

No, she was not dreaming, thought Agatha, absentmindedly running her hand over the wool blanket in which she had wrapped herself so greedily the day before. Again she glanced across the room and stared at the fireplace.

The fireplace was lit and the wood crackled softly in it.

Agatha rubbed her face wearily with her hands. What a stupid game? Climbing out of bed, she went to the fireplace. A uniform heat emanated from the scarlet flame.

Everything that had happened to her over these weeks collapsed on Agatha at once, and she realized that she could not go on.

...

‘Why are you torturing me?’

Standing with his back to the entrance to the great hall, Dracula turned around.

‘Good morning, Agatha,’ he said politely.

Agatha ignored the greeting.

‘Why haven't you eaten me yet?’ standing in the doorway, she asked.

Dracula looked at her attentively and silently.

‘I did not expect nobility from you. But how dare you torture me?’

‘Agatha, are you frozen over again? I must admit, when I brought you here, I didn’t take into account…’

She must have looked so miserable that he did not go on.

‘Come here.’

Now they were separated by a little less than a step. Looking up, Agatha said quietly:

‘You'd better tore me to pieces. It would be better if you grabbed my throat there, at the monastery. But to live day after day in this cold…’

‘In your room…’

Shaking her head, Agatha wiped away a tear with her hand.

‘Living day after day, waiting to be bitten... It's too much even for me. Too much even for you.’

There was a silence.

‘It's easy to sacrifice yourself in a passionate impulse,’ Agatha said wearily. ‘While you are at your peak, and fear does not torment but intoxicates. But when the fog clears and you stay... However,’ she smiled sadly and bitterly. ‘You promised to make me last.’

He looked at her for a while, squinting.

‘What did Jonathan tell you?’

Agatha grimaced.

‘That you came to him at night... He fell asleep, he dreamed of Mina... And then it turned out that it was you.’ Agatha hesitated. ‘You were then…’

‘I was old then.’

‘I do not think that something would have changed if you were young.’

Dracula laughed.

‘Who knows.’

He brushed aside the hair from her left shoulder and asked:

‘What exactly scares you?’

‘Why do you need this?’

‘As far as I could figure out, there are two types of visions of victims – what a person desperately wants, and what he or she is afraid of.’

‘Jonathan missed his fiancée,’ Agatha said.

‘And his feelings brought to life a fantasy of a night of love. If you see what you want,’ Dracula smiled, ‘the image of myself with an aspen stake in my chest awaits me. I'll get over it. But I don't want to be part of your nightmares.’

‘Does it spoil the taste?’

Instead of answering, he ran his finger along her nose, from nasal bridge to the tip.

‘Curiosity killed the cat,’ he said cheerfully and bent down to her neck.

Her vision was clouded with fog, Agatha felt cold, then hot, then everything began to spin...

Opening her eyes, she found that she was lying on a huge bed, naked, and Dracula, completely naked, hung over her.

For a couple of long moments, Agatha just silently looked into his eyes.

‘Sorry, I didn’t understand,’ Dracula said. ‘Is it a wish or a nightmare?’