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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 List
- 21
- 22
- 23
Chapter 22
A Truth

Author's Note: I apologize the the uselessly long description of a costume. I love what is called, “costume porn.” I will make a note in bold so you may skip it if you like.

Lydia received an invitation in the mail. It was for a flashy party at Mihai's mansion. There was a theme, “Historical Costume.” Guests were expected to dress like someone from another time period, nobody in particular, just anyone real or imagined. Her parents received similar invitations.

Lydia also received a few packages containing everything needed for three different costumes, along with a handwritten note from Vlad Dalca.

Dragi Lydia,

Știu că ești încă supărat pe mine, dar sper să pot găsi iertare. Dacă nu doriți ca aceste costume, voi înțelege. Cu toate acestea, trebuie să vă rog să vină la acest partid ca un oaspete. De asemenea, trebuie să te avertizez că prietenii tăi vor fi îmbrăcat ca un oiran și un aristocrat englez din secolul al 18-lea. Deci, am ales diferite tipuri de costume, în scopul de a sugera că ar trebui să arate diferit de la ei.

Dearest Lydia,

I know you are still angry with me, but I hope I can find your forgiveness. If you don't want these costumes, I will understand. However, I must beg you to come to this party as a guest. Also, I must warn you that your friends will be dressed as an oiran and an English aristocrat of the 18th century. So, I chose different types of costumes, in order to suggest that you should look different from them.

(Note to the reader, a long description of a red 1885 inspired bustle gown is about to come. It is very detailed. Feel free to skip over it until you see the next bolded words, if you choose)

It wasn't the most beautiful note in the world, but it was acceptable and sweet. So, she took the packages to her room, and examined the contents. Each costume had all required accessories, even shoes, and each costume looked expensive.

The first costume was based on the early 1880s in Western fashion, not Wild West, the Western part of the world. It was a beautiful evening dress, and among other accessories, it came with a corset, a reasonable and modern corset that Lydia's completely normal waist could handle wearing. Lydia knew she could never achieve the fashionable 1880s hourglass look, because that was damn unhealthy. Not everyone of the time would tight-lace to look so delicate, but many did.

The second costume was based on ancient Greek fashion. Lydia didn't really like it. It was made of very lovely pale fabric, and came with beautiful jewelry, but Lydia made a mental note to sell the stuff on the Internet. The costume was good, but she just didn't want to wear it.

The third costume was her favorite. It was a bit similar to the first one, because they were close in time periods. It was an 1885 costume, an evening gown that included a bustle, to provide a large shelf-like shape to the backside.

So, when the time came, Lydia dressed herself in the 1885 costume. The bodice of the gown had a neckline that was wide and just low enough to be proper for a young woman in 1885 at a ball, and decorated with white lace edging and a ruby adorned black bowknot in the center. The sleeves were so short that her shoulders were almost bare. The bodice and overskirt of the gown were a deep blood red, and the ruffled skirt that was exposed underneath was a pure white and adorned with black bowknots, which had little rubies in the center of the knots.

Lydia didn't think it was normal to put rubies on the actual dress in 1885, except maybe for court dress, but she was no expert. The draped red fabric on the bustle supported back of the gown and fell gracefully down. Lydia had seen 1885 fashion plates with evening gowns that had long trains, but she had also seen some that did not. She didn't know how to handle a long train, so she was thankful. At the “shelf” of the back of the gown, closer to her spine, there were two sections with more jeweled black bowknots, which were probably not historically accurate, but they were interesting.

Her stocking clad feet were put in delicate black shoes with little square heels. She slipped her arms into white gloves that went a bit past the elbows. There was jewelry in the package, so she put the gems on. Two bracelets were put on her wrists, rubies and black onyx stones. A black pearl necklace was placed around her throat, with a lovely star shaped pendant made of diamonds and rubies. Lydia had once read that brighter gemstones were popular during this period, but she knew she shouldn't complain. She slipped on a lovely ruby ring on one hand and an equally pretty diamond ring on the other. Then she arranged her hair in an coiffure with a tight bun on top and a braid looped around it, her bangs curled. She thought it looked vaguely late Victorian.

When she searched for anything else meant for the costume she found a well made red and black hand fan with a long black tassel. Lydia had no idea how to properly use a hand fan. She just knew how to open and close one with curiosity.

She also found, to her very hidden delight, a tiara of silver and diamonds with a ruby at the center, a smaller onyx stone below. Why a tiara was there, Lydia didn't really know, but it was beautiful, so she pinned it to her hair to keep it on.

(Note to the reader, the long description of the gown is finished)

“Does this mean you're not mad at him anymore?” Charles asked his daughter as she met him in the living room. He was dressed like like a 19^th century cowboy, complete with a wide brimmed circular hat and scarf around the neck. Two of Brunhilde's “friends” were sitting quietly in a corner of the room, reading, and doing their best to be ignored. It was at the point where sometimes Lydia forgot that Brunhilde's hired friends hung out in her house.

Lydia shrugged and looked away from her father. “No, I'm still pretty pissed, but I think I need to talk to him anyway.”

“You look great, Honey,” he told her with a supportive smile.

Delia came in, dressed like a historically accurate saloon girl. Her bold dress had a much lower neckline than Lydia's, and even Lydia thought she looked sexy. “Well, are we ready to go?”

***

The mansion was brightly lit and even glittering this evening. The main foyer was full of people of all shapes. Lydia all sorts of costumes, including European Medieval kings and queens, Victorian governesses and street thieves, Chinese aristocrats, even people who dressed like ancient Middle Eastern people, and Romans, and Greeks, and there was even a woman who dressed like an ancient Cretan, with nipple pasties for modern modesty.

There was music, dancing, and people watching Internet videos on a large TV in a corner, sitting in various chairs and sofas.

Lydia was immediately approached by a young man dressed as a samurai and asked to dance. Hoping Vlad would notice and maybe get jealous, she agreed. Dancing in a modern way while wearing a bustle dress was slightly more difficult than she thought. She wasn't accustomed to the extra weight and restriction on her waist, but she did her best. Once she was done, she excused herself and found her parents sitting at the TV with other guests. Some random man on the TV screen was performing a stupid stunt.

She sat down beside her parents and took some refreshments from a nearby table. She found that most people in this area were people she knew.

Prudence was there, dressed in a wide gold 18^th century gown, taking up the a lot of space on a sofa. She had more lace and bows than most people in the room, and she looked adorable. Prudence wasn't wearing glasses, so Lydia assumed she had contact lenses. Her reddish hair was looking rather tall and powdered, with feathers bouncing about. “How have you been, Lydia?” she asked, smiling.

Lydia made a loud exhale, but smiled back. “Haven't seen you in a while, except for school. I'm fine, but you look like a cupcake I'd eat.”

Bertha was there, and she laughed. She was dressed like an oiran, a sort of courtesan from Japan. She had on a convincing black wig with multiple hair sticks and bright ornaments. Her robe looked like it had multiple layers, and her obi sash was correctly tied in the front. Lydia thought she looked pregnant. “I haven't seen you in a while, either. Where have you been?”

“Home,” replied Lydia, tilting her head a little.

Claire was there, and she didn't speak to Lydia, but she did give Lydia some of the nastiest looks. Claire was dressed as an 1855 girl at a ball, or at least that's sort of what she looked like. The neckline was a little bit too low, and the pink and white zebra pattern was damn confusing. Her hairstyle was more 1950s than 1850s, but Lydia didn't think it was fair to judge. The skirt was wide enough for the 1850s; Claire took up the most space. She even had a tall sparkly tiara.

Mihai was there, and he was beside Prudence, in a chair, and he was holding her manicured hand. His costume was that of an 18^th century male aristocrat, heeled shoes and embroidered jacket with a powdered wig. He turned to look at his father, who was sitting the closest to the television and had the remote control and keyboard. “Lydia looks like a perfect little princess,” Mihai told him. “Charles must have excellent genes.”

With a smile that felt too warm, Vlad looked at Lydia's face and said, “Such a delight.” He was dressed like a Viking, but not a very flashy one, complete with a plain cloak and his hair in a simple side braid.

Charles made an amused sound with his throat. “No Sir, her mother had the good genes.” He was a little more relaxed than he usually would be around Vlad, and Lydia didn't know if it was a good sign or not.

Suddenly Mihai said, “I sent my father an email with a funny video.” He looked back to his father and asked, “Did you check your email? Perhaps everyone here would like to see it.”

Vlad nodded his head. “I do not mind showing everyone this email. I have nothing to hide there.”

Her stomach suddenly feeling shaky, Lydia sensed that something bad was going to happen. The men's voices … something about them.

Vlad closed the window on the screen and went to his email account, the one that he apparently didn't mind showing to all these people. Lydia heard Bertha say, “I bet it's a video of Mihai in a dress, falling flat on his face.”

“Probably,” agreed Prudence, kissing Mihai on the cheek. Mihai nuzzled her ear.

“Mihai, I see your email, but what's this?” Vlad said in a tone that was too innocent for Lydia's tastes.

“Not mine,” Mihai said as he started twirling a purposely stray lock of Prudence's hair.

Claire spoke up. “Is that my email?”

Vlad nodded to her. “Yes. You must have forgotten that you sent this to me. Do you remember what it is?”

She shook her head, her blue eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Open it,” Mihai said. “It's probably something cute.”

So, Vlad opened the attachment.

Nobody in that area of the room spoke at first. Some came over there to stand and watch in amazement.

Claire's cheeks looked darker, and her hands were shaking. “Stop the fucking video!!!!”

“The screen is frozen,” Vlad countered, but Lydia knew he was lying. Claire shot up, her skirt making a swishy and crinkly sound. She tried to take the remote away from Vlad, put he gently put his hand on her shoulder and shoved her down at his feet, holding the remote upwards. “Claire, I was not aware that you liked your gardener so well. There is no shame in this, but I am concerned because you never told me about him … or the shorter man.”

Okay, now he was being obvious.

People were starting to whisper to each other. Mihai laughed, and that started more laughter among the guests. Prudence covered her eyes. Bertha was beginning to laugh too, and so were Lydia's parents.

Noticeable tears were dripping from Claire's eyes, and that was when the furry animal came in.

Lydia screamed and jumped out of her seat. She really did not want to see that. She ran away, went up the stairs, and sped down a hallway to the last room down said hallway. It was a small but chic guest room.

Meanwhile, Vlad looked down at Claire with the best imitation of a certain smiling cat. She stared up at him, seeming to understand that Vlad knew exactly how that video got in his email. He said, just loud enough for the heiress to hear, “The concept of someone like me, someone with excellent tastes, ever being interested in your affections is fairly ridiculous. Now I know to never touch you again.” He winked at her. “And, please, realize that you are not allowed to say hateful things about Lydia.”

He stopped the video, stood up, picked something up from where Lydia had sat, and left Claire to the other guests, who laughed at her and called her all sorts of things. Claire starting sobbing quite loudly, and she fled the building, knocking over a vase with her skirt in the process. The pretty vase broke into pieces; it might have been made of glass or porcelain.

Back in the guest room, Lydia was trying to get the images out of her head, and then she remembered what Vlad had once said. “I plan on making a point to Claire.”

Damn.

Claire wasn't a murderous gangster. She was just some dumb rich bitch, a dumb rich bitch with a thing for bestiality, but still … to show that to everyone …

At least he didn't but it on the Internet … she thought.

Lydia's eyes widened in both sympathy and fear. If he put that shit on the Internet … Lydia might kill herself if something like that had happened to herself.

The door opened, not even a knock warned her. Vlad came in and cleared his throat. She looked up at him, biting her lip He closed the door behind him, and Lydia noticed that he turned the little lock on the doorknob.

She couldn't help it. She had to ask. “Did you record that shit?”

He shook his head and put his hands behind his back. “I found the video in her computer.” He looked damn pleased with himself. “She was unconscious when I found it, far too much beer. I also made her think I slept with her.”

“Whhhhhhy?” Lydia said, elongating the word in her speech, quirking her head a little.

His smile widened, and Lydia could almost swear that his teeth looked longer. “I had to play the part, Dragă.” That last word was a term of endearment.

Lydia's corset was pressing on her, as it should have, but since it was combined with her sudden emotional sickness she thought she was either going to vomit or faint.

“She wept, Lydia,” Vlad informed her as he stepped closer and halted a few inches away from her dress' hem. “She wept, and it was beautiful.” There was a tingling air about his voice, similar to the times when Vlad had told Lydia how beautiful he thought she was. Yet, this was a different sort of excitement, and Lydia was genuinely afraid. She refused to look at his face, and focused on his knee instead. “I wanted her to shatter like porcelain, gently held in my hand, and then without any kindness, hurled into concrete. I do believe I succeeded.”

Very slowly, Lydia's head moved side to side, as if saying no carefully. Her lips were a little bit parted, and her dark eyes were shimmering. “What would you do if I pissed you off?”

Vlad crouched down to look into her terrified eyes, his own eyes so firm yet loving that Lydia thought she would cry from the intensity. She was trembling.

His fingers jerked up before her face, fully opening her hand fan with a quick click of a sound. Her body jerked a bit, and she yelped.

“I would lock you away,” he said very quietly. “I would lock you away, and every day I would come to you and remind you of something extremely dear to both our hearts.”

“Something?” She gripped the bed cover with her hopelessly shaking hands. “What's the something?”

His fingers pulled the fan closer to his face, hiding his eyes. Then, slowly, very slowly, he closed the fan.

She got the feeling he was using a code.

What she didn't know what that he was using a code, in a funny way, since he was a man. Long ago, women would use props to flirt. When a woman hid her eyes behind an open fan, it usually meant, “I love you.” When a woman closed an open fan slowly, it usually meant, “I promise to marry you.”

Vlad put her hand fan into her loose fingers, and used his own finger to tighten hers. He didn't stop looking at her face.

“I want to be seen in public with you, Lydia. I want to begin the courtship.” Vlad leaned in and pressed his lips to the corner of Lydia's mouth. She didn't know what to say to him, and she didn't know if she could say anything.

***
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River Princess