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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
- 28
- 29
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Chapter 29
Courage

Author's Note: There might be historical inaccuracies in this chapter, and I apologize.

Dear reader, can you imagine the horror and betrayal that burst into Lydia's heart at that moment?

She started shaking and stuttering out words that made no sense. She wanted to scream out at him.

Vlad's slender old fingers gripped her hand, and she looked up at Vlad. His mouth was tight. His eyes were still. Lydia leaned into him.

“Dear little Mihnea cel Rău,” Brunhilde said as she looked down at Mihai, “Defend yourself.”

That name ... Lydia thought it sounded familiar, but she was too upset to care.

Mihai looked so thin right then, and so delicate.

He looked up at the queen. “Chains dipped in your blood,” he said with a sad and resigned tone, “one of the few things we cannot break. It seems that our servitude is also one of those things.”

The audience was silent, attentive, yearning for more of his words.

“We benefit in many ways,” continued Mihai. His fingers flexed behind him. “You see to it that we have identities no matter what country we live in. You give us excellent advice on how to invest our wealth. You protect us when we are in danger. Yet, there is a cost.”

Brunhilde put a hand on her hip, drumming her fingers. “Get on with it,” she commanded.

“I did not choose this life,” Mihai said. His voice had a bit more strain in it. “I did not choose to have you assault me, sink your fangs into my throat, smother me with your blood!”

Lydia couldn't stop herself from softly saying, “Wow.”

“I did not choose this life, secretly watching my so-called widow die, watching my sons die, killing under your command, stealing children away from their homes simply because you tell me to.”

Damn … Lydia decided that she really really really didn't want to be a vampire.

“I wanted to shoot Prudence because I wanted to save her from this fate I have, this fate that more than half of us were forced to take.”

Silence.

Brunhilde straightened her body and looked out to the audience with a blank face. “The girl was unharmed. The girl was not shot. She is hidden away for now … safe. Now … Babies … tell me, what should be done with him?”

More silence.

Lydia stood up, hoping to say something. Brunhilde snapped at her, “You're not my baby. Sit down.” So, she sat back down. Lydia expected Vlad to say something, but he didn't.

And then, a middle aged looking female vampire, dressed in a Ghagra Choli, stood up. She asked, “Is the girl upset with him?”

Brunhilde told the woman, “Prudence doesn't know he was the one who tried to shoot her. It was night, and she was taken away.”

The middle aged vampire said, “Then, Mihai should tell her what he did, and why he did it. That should be his punishment.”

Mihai fell to his knees and then let his face hit the floor.

Vlad whispered something to her. Lydia had been so enthralled with the hearing that she was caught by surprise. She jumped a little in her seat and gasped.

“Nu există nici o schimbare. Ea este în continuare susținut.” There is no change. She is still claimed.

Mihai had stood up to the one person he seemed to be afraid of, trying to save someone he cared for. That failed, and so he tried to murder that someone he cared for, to save her from a miserable fate. That failed too.

And now he had to tell her that he nearly shot her in the head.

Lydia thought she'd rather see more violence than be in Mihai's head.

The two men that had escorted Mihai picked him up off of the floor and dragged him out of the building. He looked like an old patient in a retirement home who had given up on life.

Lydia put her face into Vlad's chest and sobbed. It didn't matter that Vlad's hands were thin and wrinkled and a bit hairy. They still felt nice when they rubbed her back.

“You are all dismissed,” Brunhilde told them as she walked off.

***

Vlad seemed desperate to make things more cheerful. He took Lydia to the mansion after the hearing was over. He offered her sweets. He showed her fashion catalogs and promised to buy her anything she circled. She didn't circle anything. Vlad tried finding the most adorable and perky music on the Internet he could find. So, he played some cute Japanese pop on his computer.

Lydia simply sighed, looked into the old man's eyes, and bit her lower lip, trembling.

The old man turned off the music and went to a luxury jewelry website. His fingers were frantic while his face was stern. He pointed at some Chopard earrings, but Lydia shrugged. He showed her a Gucci ring, but Lydia wasn't interested. He even tried showing her Hello Kitty jewelry, which made Lydia raise an eyebrow, and smirk a little, but she merely patted Vlad's shoulder and told him, “I don't think this is working.”

Almost as if his pride had been injured, Vlad rolled his gray eyes, flipped his braided hair, and went to a website that sold gothic shoes.

“Those are lovely, Vlad, but I'll only feel better for a little bit, and then I'll get depressed again.” She pulled on his braid just hard enough to get his attention. “Why don't you tell me a story. You're old, and old people have great stories.”

Vlad took her to the kitchen, made some hot chocolate for them both, and sat down with her.

“If you want a story, I will tell you one.”

Lydia almost smiled at him.

“Pe vremuri,” Vlad began, (that phrase meant in the days of old), “Fiul meu a fost un copil adorabil.” My son was an adorable child. “Într-o zi cu zăpadă, fiul meu a aruncat o dată un bulgăre de zăpadă, la fața perfectă mamei sale.” On a snowy day, my son once threw a snowball at his mother's perfect face.

“Era o femeie tânără și blând. Ea a râs și a spus fiului nostru că pentru că fața lui era chipul ei, atunci ea ar trebui să pună zăpadă pe ea prea.” She was a young and gentle woman. She laughed and told our son that because his face was her face then she should put snow on it too.

Lydia understood what that meant. That meant that Mihai had a face just like his mother's.

“Deci, mama sa a luat un pumn de zăpadă. Foarte ușor, ea a lovit nasul cu zăpadă.” So, his mother took a handful of snow. Very gently, she tapped his nose with the snow. “Fiul meu a zâmbit, și a decis să împingă fața în zăpadă în mâna mamei sale.” My son smiled, and he decided to push his face into the snow in his mother's hand.

Nodding, Lydia said, “Well that's just cute.” She took a quick sip of her hot chocolate. “Was Mihai's mother really nice?”

“Ea merita sa aiba fiecare arc imperiul ei.,” Vlad told her as he stared out at nothing in particular. She deserved to have every empire bow to her.

How sweet! Lydia tilted her head. “Did you marry her?”

“Yes.”

“Mihai wasn't a bastard, nice.” Lydia stroked the rim of her cup with a fingertip. “Well … nowadays we wouldn't care, but back then people did.”

Vlad lowered his head slightly. “I had mistresses.”

Lydia shrugged. “You're a man. It was the 15^th century. I assume you had a decent amount of wealth?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have an arranged marriage?”

Vlad slid his cup aside with the side of his hand. “My parents were dead. Nobody arranged my marriages for me.” He seemed a little sadder as he spoke. “I married my first wife because I thought she was beautiful, and she was humble and kind. She died. I married my second wife for political reasons.”

Whoever he had been in his past, he was someone involved with politics. Lydia thought that sounded like him. Her grip tightened about her cup. “Hey, do you have any mistresses now?”

“You.”

Very softly, she laughed at that. “Well, are you legally married to anyone right now?”

“Not yet.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

***

Beetlejuice was munching on bugs that night, playing Soltaire in his kitchen, when he heard someone enter his home without his permission.

“Hi, B.”

Brunhilde walked in with a proud gait, as if she owned the place. She stood a few feet away from Beetlejuice and said, “Yo!”

Not changing his bored expression, he said, “Bitch, don't you know how to knock?”

“Yeah, I do.” She looked at his cards. “You're losing.”

“I know. Whaddya want?”

“Has Lydia Deetz been giving you updates on me?”

“Duh. Yeah.”

A corner of her lips quirked. “She's accepted that you won't do anything?”

“She's not getting hurt, so it's not my place.” He tore one card in half and tossed it over his shoulder. Then he tore another, and then another. “It spoke to me, by the way.”

Brunhilde's jaw seemed to loosen a bit, and her sapphire colored eyes widened. “You know for sure?”

“You know for sure when It speaks to you.”

“What did It say?”

Beetlejuice tore up another card. “Nothing I need to repeat. I think It was just trying to make me feel better.”

“Huh … well … okay.” She clapped her hands together and laced the fingers. “I know better than to question It.”

***

Prudence was locked away in a bedroom. She didn't know what the building looked like. All she knew was wherever she was had a beautiful view of forests from the single locked window that was over a desk. There wasn't a computer on the desk, just books and magazines for her to look at. The bed was big enough, very comfortable, and had silk sheets. A bathroom was connected to the room. It was a large bathroom that had many luxurious items.

Someone always came to ask her what she wanted to eat, three times a day. No matter what Prudence said, they'd never say anything, except to ask her what she wanted to eat. And so, Prudence would give up and tell them something she wanted to eat, and eventually they would return with a perfect platter of food. Someone else also always came once a day to check out a small refrigerator in a corner of the bedroom. The refrigerator contained more food, and that someone else would always refill the fridge, and empty the trash can near the fridge.

That someone wouldn't answer Prudence's questions either.

Nobody would tell her what the fuck was going on.

In the closet, there were a few clothes, but mostly she wore a soft white bathrobe and slippers. Late one night, she was wearing the bathrobe, reading a magazine and adjusting her glasses, when someone was let into the room.

And it was Mihai.

Mihai's face was partly hidden by his long dark hair. He was wearing a simple white men's blouse and tight jeans with gothic black buckle boots. He closed the door behind him. A clicking sound was heard, and Prudence knew that someone on the other side locked the door.

Prudence shot up from her seat at the desk, hoping to go to him, but Mihai didn't open his arms. He just flipped a switch to let in more light from the ceiling. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and lowered his head.

Prudence sat down beside him and hugged him. She asked him typical questions. “What's going on? Why was I kidnapped? How are my parents? How did you find me?”

Mihai didn't raise his head, but he took her little hand in his and said quietly, “I don't want to waste time. So, let me speak.”

She didn't understand his tone, but she complied and hushed.

“This situation you are in, it's complicated.” He squeezed her hand. “Sometimes, women and children are kidnapped to be sex slaves, even in America.”

Prudence made a squeaky nervous sound. He squeezed her hand again.

“Sweetheart … you haven't been kidnapped for that. You've been kidnapped for something else.” Prudence tried to move his hair out of his eyes, but he pulled his head away. He didn't seem to want her to touch him. “It happened to me a long time ago. I had a wife, and two sons, and I was taken away.”

“But you're so young. I don't get it.”

He shook his head. “Prudence, I'm not young, not compared to you, not compared to your mother, your grandmother, your great grandmother.”

Her eyebrow quirked. “Mihai, are you high?”

“Oh no.” He squeezed her hand even tighter. “I'm very old.”

After he said that, something happened that Prudence couldn't believe. His skin faded from a healthy peachy pale tone to something gray. Spots formed on his hands. His flesh felt dryer in her hand. His body lost a little fat, and his face loosened and became gaunt. His hair faded from rich black to snowy white, all at once.

Prudence recoiled and ran to the other side of the room.

Mihai's voice sounded amazingly dark and rough. “Prudence … I tried to kill you.” He put his pale thin fingers to his face and bent over even more. “I tried to kill you! I put a gun to your innocent little rose of a face!”

This wasn't happening … this wasn't happening. Prudence pushed her back to a wall. Her eyes felt like they would pop out of her head.

“I wanted to save you, so you wouldn't live like I live,” he said as he started to sob. “I'm supposed to be dead, Prudence! I'm supposed to be dead! History says I'm dead!”

“Get the fuck out!” Prudence threw a book at him. She missed.

Mihai stood up, but his head was still down. “You … futu-i.” That word meant fuck. “Prudence … vampires are real.”

“Huh?”

“Prudence, vampires are real.” He was speaking quickly, like verbally ripping off a band-aid. “I'm a vampire. The Queen of Vampires has chosen you. You're going to be forced to be a vampire.”

Awkward silence …

She gawked at him.

She just saw him change from young to old, and she still couldn't believe him.

He didn't any anything more. He just went to the door and knocked on it. Someone let him out, and the door was shut and locked again.

Prudence slid down to her knees and wept. She took off her glasses and looked at them like they could maybe tell her something.

***
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River Princess