Chapter Text
Lisa sat in the kitchen, a mug of tea getting cold in front of her as she paged through a journal Vlad had given six days ago– the day after he had heard the second heartbeat. Her notes were meticulous: each page was dated, and began with a list of symptoms she had experienced that day. These lists were largely the same- fatigue, nausea (especially in the mornings though she hadn’t vomited yet), elevated blood pressure, disturbed sleep cycle. Below that, she’s taken careful notes from the giant stack of books she’s kept out– and from her conversations with Vlad.
In this way, she’s learned a fair amount about pregnancy and about vampires, though her child– a Dhampyre– and this pregnancy remained frustratingly mysterious. She knew that carrying this child would be riskier than carrying a full human– that there was even a risk of her being unable to conceive again afterward. That didn’t really bother her. In fact, infertility would make matters less complicated in the future, if anything. And if anyone could support her through this pregnancy, it was Vlad, who had always been kind to her but had been particularly attentive for the past several days.
She scrubbed her face, dully, adding ‘brain fog’ to today’s symptom list and flipped back to the first page, remembering Vlad's exact words as she looked at her notes. Dhampyre have different minds than humans– minds made to hold centuries of memories down to minute details most humans can’t be aware of. Our child would love like a human. But they would know loss like a Vampire– maybe even harsher than a Vampire does. They would know, eventually, that all they love will pass out of the world long before they do.
Lisa’s brow furrowed as she recalled her answer– that humans lose too. They lose people to sickness, war, accidents, and change itself. Children who were loved would grow into resilient adults who took loss in stride, mourn and move forward. The sickness that had ravaged Lupu had taken many people from her, and yet she had come here, kept herself productive with her studies, and opened her heart to Vlad.
And they would have you forever, at least. Wouldn’t they? Vlad had agreed, though she had sensed his doubt. She knew– even now, even after a short time– that her eventual, inevitable death would shake Vlad to his core. Maybe she could leave him part of her, their child, to mourn with him, to help guide him.
And the last thing to consider, even more conjecture than pregnancy and genetics, was legacy. Vlad had explained that his power to command other vampires was due to the particular way he had become one. Though he wouldn’t give Lisa any more information than that. So, his status of King of Vampires wouldn’t pass to their child in the event of his death, though while he was alive their progeny would enjoy absolute safety from other vampires.
And what of Wallachia? Lisa had asked.
Vlad had shrugged: I am merely a vassal for the Ottomans, the Holy Roman Empire… whatever little human war machine controls this miserable slab of land. I collect taxes and terrify the gentry into compliance. If our child wants that inheritance, he’s welcome to it.
Lisa had challenged him, angrier than she should have been: If it were a girl?
Again Vlad had shrugged: She then. Whatever sex. Though a woman would have a harder time convincing the great houses to go along with her, he had warned.
Lisa stretched her shoulders and shook out her wrists. She had woken late- it had been past noon when she had made tea, and now the chilly grey light streaming into the windows already had a wasting quality. How long had she been here, thinking? She glanced down at her notebook, still blank below her symptom list, though in a few hours Vlad will be awake. Today was the day she had told him she would decide by. Maybe a walk would help.
The kitchen gardens were already producing the earliest cold-hardy vegetables- Lisa walked past beds of carrots, beets, and radishes, into the skeletal, still-barren orchard. Except it wasn’t barren- it was just asleep, waking even, despite the still-freezing weather. There were tiny, tight buds on the trees, indicating leaves soon to come. Lisa remembered the garden from the previous fall and tried to imagine it in spring- since there were crocuses poking out of the remaining snow, would there also be daffodils? She spied a gangly, overgrown hedge plant as she wandered further into the trees, wondering if it would be golden honeysuckle or forsythia.
She couldn’t know when, but at some point she started muttering to herself, recalling the Latin names of the plants around her– prunus domestica, prunus avium, punica granatum . Her hand idled near her stomach as she stepped over a fallen branch here, a clump of roots there. This would be a beautiful place for a child to play– plenty of trees to climb, bugs to catch, plants to learn about. She imagined taking a flower- maybe from the magnolia tree- and sliding it between glass plates to look at under the microscope, Vlad bending to explain the intricate inner workings of the device– mirrors and angles and such.
And suddenly she could see it– what was obfuscated by her data. A child with her inquisitiveness, her energy for seeing and understanding the world, and with Vlad’s capacity for careful, slow consideration. A child who could learn history and participate in the present; who could learn to heal and care like a human and who could protect others with the strength of a vampire.
Lisa sat on a low branch in the trunk of a pomegranate tree, basking in the sudden and overwhelming knowledge that she wanted this child. This life. “You’ll be born during the pomegranate harvest,” she murmured, “Next spring I’ll show you…well, everything.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
She was still there a while later, when dusk had settled into the gardens, creating deep purple shadows in the tall grass. Lisa felt as if she could sense the sun dipping under the horizon and wondered if it was pattern recognition or supernatural pregnancy. Either way, as she made her way back to the kitchen entrance, she was unsurprised to find Vlad stepping out into the garden.
Lisa approached as the dying grey light of late winter gave way to the relief of night. Vlad thought she looked like spring, like Persephone herself. He almost said so as she reached him, taking his hand to step over the low stone wall separating the orchard from the garden beds, but he thought the intensity of the metaphor might spook her. She had been a little on edge since he had discovered their child was growing in her.
“I imagine this place is beautiful in the spring,” she said. Her steady tone reassured him, though he wouldn’t prefer to talk about the gardens right now. She said she would tell him tonight.
“It’s beautiful most of the year- you just had bad timing, my love.” He tried his best not to sound disinterested, but she could tell his mind was elsewhere.
She sighed, bemused that he couldn’t see it– that talking about the garden was the same as talking about their child. She chose mercy and took a more direct approach. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. You’ve helped me understand as much as anyone could about gestating and raising a Dhampyr. But there’s one piece of data I’m still missing.”
“I’ll give you any information I can,” his eyes widened, waiting.
“Why do you want to have a child?”
Vlad turned his gaze to the sky– the clouds were clearing, the stars winking into view. He considered what he was willing to share then spoke, quiet and slow.
“Three hundred and eighty years ago I was a man. I had a wife, whom I loved dearly. Elizabetha. And a… friend… I was very loyal to. Leon. We went to war– they called it the Prince’s Crusade after the Peoples Crusade was crushed by the Seljuk Turks. The predecessors of the Ottomans,” he added, glancing at Lisa.
“We found a horde of Night Creatures in the Levant and learned that the Seljuk had been holding back the armies of hell for centuries. After we slaughtered them all. After the horde escaped North with the goal of spreading throughout Europe. Leon felt responsible. He was a true believer– he thought we were going to war for God, you see. I always knew it was for land, power. For me personally, it was an opportunity to climb the ranks, make a name for myself. And I was interested in the Night Creatures– even then, I thought understanding them would give me a better understanding of the world. Of God, maybe.”
Vlad paused as if waiting for Lisa to comment.
“I don’t know what’s worse, honestly. Your Leon sounds foolhardy. He should have known what wars are for. But–”
“But at least he believed he was acting on God’s will, and for the good of others,” Vlad finished for her. “Yes. His belief kept him uncorrupted. My cynicism darkened my heart. The final tipping point came when I discovered Elizabetha was ill- I begged to take leave, to go see her. I thought I could heal her with my alchemical knowledge. But I wasn’t allowed to go. And, if I’m honest, I was more interested in the hunt than I was in attending my wife’s bedside.”
“When she died, I blamed God, the Church, the Night Creatures. Anyone but myself, though I could have gone to her– abandoned my post and my social climbing and… my regiment.”
“I was ill for a long time- existing in a fog of hate and regret. I betrayed Leon and became… this,” he turned to Lisa, bent to kiss her hand. His voice shook with feeling.
“In all this time, you're the first person who's made me want to care for someone again. I want you, and our child, because they will be yours. I want to love you both, the way I should have loved her.”
Lisa was moved that Vlad had revealed his past to her, and though she was dimly aware of the danger lurking in his past, she felt safe in his home, in his arms. Besides, nearly three hundred years must have changed him. She pressed into him, inviting his cold kiss, opening for him before pulling away.
“I’ll give you myself, Vlad, and our child. You better not let me die doing it though,” she added sardonically.
Then, his strong arms around her hips, he lifted Lisa, a look of pure joy on his face. She leaned down to kiss him, hands tangling in his hair, pulling him tight against her.