River Princess | By : BloodValkyrie Category: 1 through F > Beetlejuice Views: 4287 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Beetlejuice and I don't own Bram Stoker's Dracula. I am making no profit. |
Chapter 17
Amazingly Immature
Author's Note: I apologize for any and all typos, grammar errors, repeated sentences, etc. Also, please note I don't understand Romanian, and so I use Google Translate and other misc. sources.
Even someone with a goody goody attitude like Lydia's had to admit that sometimes school is duller than an overly abused butter-knife.
Lydia knew her education was important. Just because she didn't live in a fancy apartment near a fancy university (like Claire did, even though she could have kept living with her parents, since the university was nearby) didn't mean Lydia's classes weren't valid and required.
Yet, just because the lecture the kind looking professor was relevant and good, that didn't mean Lydia wasn't preoccupied with thoughts of Vlad. He hadn't asked her out in public yet. That was a bad sign. No matter how many lavish gifts a man gave you, if he didn't want to see you in public, that was bad. Lydia wanted to ask him to take her somewhere, at least a walk in the park, but she was a little afraid that she'd get a negative response. Because of this oddity, she hadn't told Prudence or Bertha about Vlad's affections, or the gifts, or the limousine, or the shopping trip, and certainly not the scene with the gangsters and guns and limb removal …
She didn't think her friends would believe her.
Her parents weren't exactly introducing Vlad to their friends as if he was a future son-in-law.
Lydia slid her booted feet closer to herself under the table she quietly sat at. She tried to take notes. Soon she found that instead of taking educational notes, she was writing down her thoughts in Romanian mixed with English. Basically she was writing things like, “Won't even take me to Mcdonalds. Courtship my ass. This isn't even dating. Why won't you even fuck me, Bitch?!”
Noticing a silence, she looked up; the professor was standing before her, looking down at her notes. The English words were pretty vulgar, so even if he didn't know Romanian, the English was embarrassing enough.”
With an embarrassed yet cheesy smile, Lydia looked up at him and blushed. Ripping the paper into chunks, she said quietly, “Weird personal problems ...”
Some students stared at her. Some giggled. Some didn't seem to care. The professor shrugged and walked on.
***
“I do hope you can forgive my son. He is very protective of women, particularly the women he believes are gentle and sweet.”
Vlad Dalca put on the best comforting tone he could pluck out as he spoke to the young heiress Claire Brewster, sitting beside her on a park bench, admiring the sun set.
“More like pathetic,” that woman said as she let out a rather harsh laugh. Vlad wondered if this unpleasant jolt he felt was what Lydia felt when he laughed. He made a mental note to ask her if his laughter was harsh. “She's probably out on some nasty street downtown,” Claire continued, “She won't get much, though. Who wants a pasty leather bag?”
While Vlad kept a very placid face, inside his mind he was imagining choking this woman and throwing her against a wall, maybe kidnapping her and selling her into sexual slavery. He didn't need the money, so he'd just give it to Lydia. Well, perhaps selling her wouldn't be wise, or even morally correct. Still, he wanted to choke her. Maybe he'd have the opportunity one day.
This woman had been telling all her friends such ridiculous things about Lydia. It didn't matter that nobody of importance took Claire seriously. The fact that she dared to be so rude bothered Vlad. She even dared to insult his son. Now, Mihai was more than just a grown man. He was a grown man who once threatened to rape another man who called him a faggot, while Mihai was wearing a frilly and lacy gown. (Mihai didn't rape him, and wouldn't have, but he did beat the man with a stiletto shoe) Mihai wasn't vulnerable. Lydia was different. Lydia was vulnerable. Simply being a woman made her more vulnerable, because she lived in a woman's world. While men could be violent, women ruined lives just by using deceit. That thought was a general statement, and not set in stone, but it applied here.
So, with a warmth that was very false, Vlad decided to play the woman. He took Claire's hand in his and kissed it, and he looked into her very pretty blue eyes. “Have I told you that you are a fairy tale princess? I adore fairy tales.”
Well, he did adore fairy tales. That part was true.
“Ești o cățea subțire. Mananca ceva,” he told her with a smirk. It was a very true statement, in his opinion.
“What does that mean?” Claire asked, her breath fluttering and her smile growing.
“I simply told you how attractive and beautiful you are.”
It really meant, “You are a thin bitch. Eat something.”
***
Vlad invited the Deetzes to a private dinner, and told Mihai to attend. Like an angry Bridezilla, Vlad made sure that every detail in the moderate little dining area was perfect. The balcony nearby hung over a lovely garden lit by environmentally friendly lanterns, and Vlad had yelled at the servant responsible at one point because one lantern wouldn't light. Once it worked correctly, Vlad gave the servant a tip. Mihai was adjusting his white lacy jacket when he came in, carrying a container of cookies.
“Prudence nu știe, nu?” Vlad asked him. Prudence doesn't know, no?
Mihai nodded. “Bertha, de asemenea.” Bertha also.
“Oameni mai puțin pentru a explica,” Vlad said. Less people to explain to.
***
When the Deetz family arrived, the first thing Vlad did was go to Lydia and kiss her hand, and then place his fingers on her jaw and throat, looking into her eyes. She had lovely brown irises. That's the way irises are. Rarely are they ever dull. Even Claire had lovely irises, and she was a horrible person. Still, since this was Lydia, her eyes were special to Vlad.
As they ate, Vlad took every opportunity to speak to Lydia, and to admire everything about her appearance and voice and overall demeanor. She seemed sad, maybe even frustrated, but she was trying to hide it. Vlad imagined he knew why was upset.
She looked delightful. Her hair had that insane messy look, sticking out and making her almost look like she had been electrocuted, almost but not really. She didn't wear any makeup except for a small bit of powder, just a little bit that he could see under her eyes and over a tiny blemish she had. Lydia wore a charming black cotton dress, knee-length and with a white print of a ribcage on the front. Her black stockings seemed elegant for some reason. She had remarkably fabulous shoes. Vlad was certain that he bought them. They were corseted black and red platform boots, knee-high, with ribbons and buckles. They had somewhat thinner heels, and that was rather cute.
At one point Vlad asked the servants to leave, and then announced, “I have an explanation, my dear family.”
Delia gripped Charles' hand because the poor man looked like he might go pale.
“I would like to play a game,” said Vlad.
Charles blurted out, “Are we going to be stuck in torture devices?!”
Mihai tried not to laugh at him, but he shoved a napkin into his mouth and laughed anyway. Lydia gave Mihai a “stop laughing right now” look, and that made Mihai sigh and stop.
Vlad wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn't. Instead, he told them, “I do hope you have noticed that I have not been a fair suitor to dearest Lydia.”
“Could you please talk like a normal person?” Lydia said to him, her eyes narrowing. “You've been a freak. Try saying that.”
Vlad wanted to roll his eyes again, but again he didn't.
“Are you all aware that Miss Claire Brewster has been saying hurtful things about Lydia?”
Like an annoyed and possibly stereotypically homosexual student, Mihai raised his hand with a flourish and a sassy facial expression. “Me!” he said.
“Coborâți brațul tău,” Vlad immediately told Mihai. Lower your arm.
Mihai lowered his arm and grinned.
Vlad rolled his eyes that time. “I will spend time with Claire, and that requires my affections for Lydia to be kept secret, for now.”
“I don't get it,” Delia said quite honestly.
Lydia looked like she wanted to lunge at Vlad. Her fingers were gripping the table, and her jaw was tight. She was staring at her plate, grumbling.
“I don't want any interference. I plan on making a point to Claire,” Vlad insisted as he laced his fingers together on the table.
Mihai said, “He's going to publicly humiliate her.”
“Uhm,” Charles said, tapping his food with a spoon, “Why?”
“Doesn't matter,” countered Mihai, grinning.
Lydia shook her head and muttered, “I don't fucking get it.”
“I want you all to know, I do not plan on hurting Lydia,” Vlad said.
“Well, you are,” Lydia snapped at him, looking up to narrow her eyes at him.
Vlad tried his most winning smile, and he reached out to take her hand. Lydia slapped it, and he recoiled.
“I'm gonna give back everything you ever gave me or bought for me,” she said, getting out of her seat and stomping out of the room. “I'm gonna wait in the car!”
Mihai took a sip of his drink and then said, “You're going to have a lot of boxes.”
***
“You have a lot of boxes,” Brunhilde told Vlad as she stared at the stacks of things in the mansion's main foyer the next night. She was standing beside Vlad, happily chewing on a man's foot.
“You have a foot,” Vlad responded, a somewhat pouty look on his face.
Brunhilde shrugged and chirped, “Another idiot gangster. He's missing a foot now, wherever he is.” She turned to give Vlad a very kind and loving smile. “So, are you going to explain to me why you're deceiving that rich bitch with the sapphire eyes?”
“I want to play a game,” Vlad said calmly.
“I'm sorry, I didn't know you were a high school bitch with the soul of a demon.” Brunhilde tapped his shoulder with her foot snack. Vlad put his palm to his face.
***
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