AN: Well, here's another chapter from yours truly. This one may seem a little boring but it talks about Dominic's past and so forth. I would have updated a little earlier, except I had a little bit of writer's block but it's finally done. Although I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up since I'm away on holiday, but hopefully I can get started on it while I'm gone. Enjoy!
Chapter Four
Comfort
Le Havre, France
November 6th, 1741
When Chérie awoke the next night after her first semi-peaceful slumber, she found herself utterly alone in Dominic's coffin, the darkness blanketing her in eerie calmness. She lay there solemnly for a few minutes with her confused thoughts before she made any kind of move to open the encasement's lid.
The lid opened with a slight creak to the hinges, and when she removed herself bodily from the coffin, Dominic was still nowhere to be seen. Instead, she was greeted with the cool, dim moonlight, scattered on the floor by the wavering curtains. The windows were open, which explained the sudden gust of chilly wind breezing through the dormant room, and she rushed to close them, the cold seeping into her skin and causing her to shiver.
A sudden knock on the door interrupted the silence, and she balked at the sound of it, the sudden fear of Thomás returning keeping her frozen to the spot, but when a woman's cheery, yet brusque, voice called through the door, she hastened to answer it.
The warm light from the hallway spilled into the room and the woman's round, cheery face was aglow with enthusiasm as Chérie greeted her with the door slightly ajar. Her smile managed to warm Chérie's heart a mere smidgen and she grew amused at the small woman's antics as she looked about the dreary room.
"How can you stand such darkness? It's bad enough that you are a creature of the night, but that doesn't mean you have to suffer the darkness the whole time," she said brusquely, as she moved about the room at a brisk pace to light the abandoned candles lying scattered about the room. The room was soon alight with the warm glow, and the woman stood proudly in the middle of the room, hands on her hips as she turned to face Chérie.
"You know of our kind?" Chérie asked of the woman in surprise, as she began to attempt to push the coffin under the bed on her own unsuccessfully. She only accomplished the task when Chérie took it upon herself to help her.
The woman scoffed in a joking manner, and sent Chérie a warm smile, while her eyes twinkled in mirth. "Of course I know of your kind, dearie. Who do you think is the one who offers vampires shelter for the day? Why does it look like I am not repulsed by the coffins?" she hinted, and watched as realization dawned on Chérie's face.
"You are the innkeeper?"
The woman nodded her round head. "Long ago, when I first opened this place, I was threatened by a vampire. I begged and pleaded for my life, and I eventually struck a deal with him. I had offered to house him or any of his kind, with all of the appropriate accommodations, for as long as they liked. They agreed, and slowly my inn became very renowned amongst the vampires and they come almost every night seeking shelter from the sun."
"But what about mortals? Do they stay here as well?"
"Of course; if I didn't allow it, many would become suspicious of my actions and jump to conclusions. I just make sure I don't have my kind amongst your kind when they sleep."
They grew silent after that, until the woman grabbed Chérie's hand in a forceful tug and propelled her out of the room. "Come, mademoiselle. Monsieur Addison requested of me to tell you that he has fulfilled his promise."
Chérie looked bewildered at this and followed the woman towards another room. "What promise?"
The innkeeper halted before a closed door and turned mirthful eyes towards the young woman. "Why your wardrobe, of course; last night he had disappeared to find fabric for you, and I had called for my seamstress as soon as he had returned. You are to be fitted and your dresses should be completed in two days time or less," she explained quickly, as she pushed Chérie through the door, the bright lights of the sconces blinding her temporarily as she stepped into the room.
The room she had stepped in appeared to be only for the use of a seamstress; a table adorned with sewing tools stood before the undraped window, bolts of fine cloth lined the side of one of the walls, and a mirror and stool stood in a corner, obviously for the uses of fitting someone. On a table close by to the door, lay several bolts of fine, expensive cloth, more valuable than Chérie had ever possessed in her whole life. Dominic must have gone to great lengths to purchase such fine material, and she promised herself to thank him afterwards.
As she stood admiring the rich fabric, the door burst open once more in an explosion of sound and a small, rather thin but wiry, woman stood in its wake, a measuring tape draped over her neck and pins sticking precariously into the fabric of her dress. The woman eyed Chérie's form with a critical eye and walked about her slender frame a few times in contemplation.
"Is this what I am to work with?" she finally stated, after a heady pause, and Chérie shot her a wry glare as the woman finished her endless circling, like a hulking vulture hovering over it's prey.
"Oui, Madame. The gentleman has requested of you to make the most fashionable dresses in Paris, since this fine lady's wardrobe is bare and scantily even there. He says for you to make as many as you can with the fabric he has provided, of course, and hopes that you may be done in two days time," the innkeeper explained. Turning to Chérie, she gestured towards the abrupt woman. "Mademoiselle, may I introduce you to my personal friend, Florence Bourgeois. She is one of the most professional seamstresses I have ever met, and I know you will be satisfied in her production."
With a slight nod, the innkeeper vacated the room, leaving Chérie under the scrutinizing glare of the seamstress, known as Madame Bourgeois. The wiry woman released a heaving sigh and motioned towards the small stool. "Madame, if you will so kindly step onto the stool here, sil vous plait. I will try to do this as fast as possible; your companion's request is very tedious and burdensome," she stated, removing her long snake-like measuring tape from her neck. Chérie complied with the woman's instructions and stepped up dutifully onto the wooden stool.
As the woman commenced with her work, Chérie was left to stand there in absolute silence, surrendering to her endless thoughts as the seconds ticked away into nothingness.
When Chérie was released from Madame Bourgeois' room, she found herself wandering the docks, situated close to the inn. The cold, glistening water of the Atlantic lapped at the slippery legs of the wharf, crashing against the water-worn rocks lining the shore. She welcomed the tumultuous sound as opposed to her troublesome mind, the thunderous roar of the waves filling her ears; a calming balm to her aching soul.
In an unladylike manner, Chérie sat herself down on the edge of the dock, her legs dangling over the rough edge. The spray of the ocean wet the tips of her shoes and dampened the hem of her skirt and underclothes, but none of that mattered as she lowered her upper torso to lie flush along the dock. From her horizontal position, the slight twinkle of the stars filled her vision, and she traced the path of a lone meteor, making a silent oath as it flew past in the veiled sky.
It didn't take her very long to realize she wasn't alone; thanks to Dominic's very long explanation of vampire lore, she had come to acknowledge her heightened senses quite rapidly and didn't bother to get up before calling out.
"It would be far more appropriate to announce your presence instead of spying on me," she called out wistfully, tilting her head upwards to stare in Kurt's glittering green orbs.
"I wasn't sure whether to bother you or to keep a close eye," he countered, but he joined her in watching the stars, lying parallel to her on the wooden structure.
"It's beautiful isn't it?" she whispered tentatively, as another shooting star whizzed across the darkened canopy.
"What is?"
"The sky, you silly goose." She let out a giggle at Kurt's ignorance. Raising her hand towards the heavens, she located a collection of stars. "See, there's Cassiopeia." Her hand moved in another direction towards another constellation. "And there's Orion. And if you look over there" – her hand moved once again – "you can see Ursa Major. The Big Dipper's part of that constellation, see?"
Kurt nodded his head and was slightly astonished at her knowledge of the stars. "How do you know so much about the stars?" he asked her, as he traced the outline of each constellation she had pointed out to him.
Chérie shifted uncomfortably as her eyes saddened in what seemed to be remembrance. "My father was a sailor before he met my mother. When I was old enough to remember, he showed me the different constellations that he learned of during his travels," she replied in response, forcing herself to keep her unbidden tears at bay at the memory of her family.
The subject was instantly dropped and they lay there in revered silence, the crashing of the waves against the rocky shore the only sound in the night air. Tilting her head to the side, Chérie worried her lower lip as she forced herself to ask the question that had bothered her since the night before.
"Kurt, why is Dominic so possessive of me?" she whispered, her voice full of anxiety as Kurt turned his head to meet hers.
"Why do you ask exactly?"
Bringing herself to an upright position, she looked out on the large expanse of water. "When he had pushed Thomás away from me the night before, he told Thomás that he was never to touch what was his. What did he mean by that?"
Before answering her question, Kurt copied her actions as he pushed himself up from his prone position. "I guess he also failed to mention this when he explained to you about our kind," he muttered, contemplating a way on how to phrase this matter correctly to her. "When a vampire sires someone, such as he turns a mortal into a vampire, the sire, I guess, feels a kind of possessive nature towards the one he or she turns. In their eyes, the person they turned is their own, since they solely picked them out without an aid. It's like a child with a toy; they refuse to share the possession that they have with anyone else."
Chérie shivered at Kurt's explanation and scowled. "I don't belong to anyone; I'm not a possession to own," she muttered, drawing her legs up to fold neatly underneath her chin. The action brought little warmth to her.
"I know that, and Dominic knows that as well. But sometimes, when a vampire turns someone, the compulsion to turn someone is coupled with attraction towards the person, or the vampire just wants them. I believe in Dominic's case, his reason for turning you was partially due to attraction, alongside the want to save you from your fate," he explained slowly, before adding, "and I would think his behaviour was more out of protectiveness than possessiveness. Dominic is one of the most moral vampires I have ever known."
Chérie accepted this statement as opposed to his previous explanation, but in any normal circumstances, she would have blushed at this addition.
"Thank you for explaining things to me; it makes me feel a lot better." She offered him a shy smile, which he gratefully returned. Finally another worry was erased from her mind.
"It's no problem at all. And I assure you, Thomás won't try anything else while Dominic is around. In fact, he has been missing since last night and hasn't turned up as of yet. But I wouldn't worry; no one tries the same thing twice with Dominic. He's good at instilling fear in people," he replied to her as he offered her a hand up from the dock.
Accepting his hand willingly, she walked along with him back towards the inn, where the exuding aroma of food lingered in the foyer and the warmth of the fire beckoned to them.
In the duration of two days, Madame Bourgeois remained true to her word. By November the 8th, when Chérie had awoken from her daytime slumber, she was summoned by the innkeeper to receive the gifts from the seamstress' labours, and was quite amazed at the woman's handiwork.
The woman had procured five elaborate dresses, complete with matching underclothes, with the amount of fabric that Dominic had purchased and they consisted of styles still fashionable in Paris.
As on request from Chérie, the gowns were not wide in diameter at the hem; she did not see the necessity of having skirts as wide as doorways, so she had requested them to be sized to the shape of her hoops, which weren't as bell-like as most were. The necklines were quite low, lining the edge of her shoulders, where the sleeves billowed out, coming to an end at the elbow, where the material draped downwards to her waist. The bodices revealed a little more cleavage than Chérie had hoped, and they tapered down to reveal, a slender, narrow waist, with the skirts starting to flare outward. Each were adorned with elaborate, although casual, designs, which must have taken painstaking hours for the woman to do, and Chérie wasn't surprised when Madame Bourgeois said that she had to request for help.
After examining each and trying them on, with the ever-tightening of her blasted corset, she assisted the maid in bringing the gowns to her room for packing, minus the one she was currently wearing, when she was stopped by Dominic. He had been standing nearby, waiting for her to surface from the room, and when she was finally released, he could almost feel his breath escaping him at the sight of her. Her hair was undone; her brown, wavy hair had cascaded down her back, with a few strands framing her elegant face, giving her a mysterious air. If he had thought her stunning the night he found her, she was even more breathtaking with her new wardrobe.
They stood in each other's presence for a few awkward minutes before he gave her a curt nod. "I see the seamstress has done her job well. You look," he paused, searching for the correct word, "breathtaking."
Normally, she would have flushed a brilliant shade of red, but instead she gave him a coy smile and whispered a thank you before returning to her room with her things.
En Route, Bay of Biscay
November 9th, 1741
A day later, Chérie found herself, along with her other companions, in the belly of a merchant's ship, nestled safely inside of her coffin. Their destination was made clear by Dominic the night before: they were heading towards Spain in search of his sister, who was supposed to be residing in Aviles, a small Spanish port which thrived with trade and merchants.
A few days earlier, Dominic had bartered a safe ride inside of a wine merchant's ship; Chérie did not know how much Dominic had to pay the man in order to silence him of what they would bring onboard with them. It was the only means to get to Spain at that time. Due to the stormy weather as of late, people were reluctant to travel, and so passages to other countries for commoners had been halted and it left the small group very little to choose from for transportation. The merchant had finally agreed after Dominic had threatened to kill him and accepted the hefty bag of francs from the young man as payment.
As promised, the merchant did not say a single word about the uncanny loading of four, elongated crates on the ship, laden with four slumbering vampires, as the crew readied the ship that day. On orders by the merchant, the four were restricted to the hull of the ship for the three day trip and were supplied with two barrels of blood; where it came from was not mentioned to Chérie and she didn't wish to know its origins.
When she could sleep no more, and her stomach churned from the rocking of the ship, Chérie stumbled from her bed and stumbled clumsily as the ship careened sharply to the left. She had almost knocked over a crate of bottled Chardonnay if Dominic had not caught her elbow in a tight vice. As she looked about, she could see the other two coffins were empty; Kurt and Thomás had probably slinked off a little while ago in search of something to do, which left Dominic to await Chérie's awakening.
A distant tinkling of glass filled her ears and she turned her head sharply to the right; even with her keen and sharp eyesight, she could barely make out the form of Thomás' towering figure as he swiped a bottle of wine from an open crate.
"Is he supposed to be doing that?" she whispered, as she watched as his shadowy figure lurked about in the darkness. She was glad that he maintained a fair distance from her; she had never forgiven him for his actions the first night in Le Havre, and it brought some comfort that he was nowhere close to her.
"Of course he isn't. Thomás was never meant to follow rules; he takes pleasure in being a lawbreaker and takes what he wants," he answered her softly, which brought him to remember that night as well. If it hadn't been for the presence of Chérie, Dominic knew he would have slaughtered Thomás without a second thought. But he didn't want her to witness those actions and so he had settled to threatening him. And so far, that threat had been taken into consideration on Thomás' part.
Taking a single match from his pocket, he struck it against the side of a crate and lit a solitary candle, the small stick of wax emitting a soft glow which only illuminated the two of them. The flame sputtered a few times before it strengthened into a steady stream of light.
Chérie watched the flickering for a few minutes before she found the courage to speak. "I never apologized to you for our disagreement a few days ago."
Dominic turned his head to look at her and raised an almost invisible eyebrow. "There's no need. You were right to accuse and to question, and I'm to blame for where you are now. In truth, I never meant to turn you."
His admission caused her head to turn and she stared at him, completely baffled. "You never meant to? Why?"
He shrugged at this, his head bowed. "My true intent was to try and get you to safety, but when I saw the wound it would have been too late. I did what I thought was the best thing, though I guess it was more out of selfish reasons than any other."
"How so?"
"I took you away from everything that you knew. Your home, your family …thinking that I did the right thing, and I never stopped to think of the consequences."
He had seemed sincere in his actions, or as sincere as a vampire could get, but she still felt a twinge of pain and anger towards him. His voice broke the heady silence once more, this time pitched in a form of a question. "Do you miss them?"
"My family?" she asked back in short, and after his terse nod, she complied in turn. "Yes, of course I do. All I have of them now are the memories. And they won't know what has happened to me; all they'll know is that my friends are now dead, and they'll assume I was taken."
"At least they are safe and sound; they will mourn for you, yes, but they will move on and live to their fullest, unlike some," he replied in a murmur and Chérie almost had to strain her ears to hear him. Knowing that something was troubling him, she looked up at him sympathetically and placed a gentle hand on his arm.
"What happened, Dominic?"
Dominic's head turned slowly to face her, and he seemed reluctant to indulge her in his well-kept secrets, but the concern etched in her eyes made him want to let down his high walls for one brief moment.
"It happened sometime before I was turned, at least 105 years ago. We live on a plantation in New Orleans, but back in 1639, it was merely a common farm. I was maybe fifteen at the time and my sister was only five. We weren't as wealthy then; it took many years before we got a good crop and things finally brightened up. But gradually, people started wanting our land, but my father wouldn't give it up, despite how much money we had earned. We could have easily found a new home, but my father built that house with his very own hands when he and my mother came from France. So every time somebody came with an offer, my father would always turn it down.
"It seemed all right at first, but they eventually became more violent with my father's steady refusal. One night he drove into town and he never showed up for three days. We soon received news that my father was killed in a skirmish after he refused to sell his property once again. My mother was a very dependent woman, especially on Father, and when she heard that he was dead, she lost the remains of her sanity then. She became delusional and she used to sit on the front porch every night, saying that he would come home, but of course he never did. When we told her that he wasn't coming back, she used to strike us until she was guilt-ridden from her actions.
"I took care of my mother and sister as best I could, but things were never the same after that. Nine years after my father's death, things began to take a nasty turn for all of us. I was twenty-four at the time and Angelica only fourteen and we had gone to church early on a Sunday morning. My mother didn't come; people began to shy away from her because of her strange behaviour so she stopped coming into town with us. I think it was around that time that my mother realized our father was never coming back, so by the time we came home, we found her in the barn, swinging by the neck from a beam."
Chérie's eyes widened in horror at this and tears began to sting her eyes as Dominic's eyes darkened, the memory reliving itself inside of his mind. The hand that rested on his arm squeezed gently in comfort, and he didn't move to shrug it away. It had been years since he had revealed his past to anyone, and somehow, it had been a relief to tell it to her.
Clearing his throat he continued on with his tale. "After that incident, the whole town started to shun us. The priest said my mother's suicide was the work of Satan and his word had spread quite rapidly throughout the town. People refused to offer me work in the town when the farm started to suffer, and we were left with nothing else but to sell some of our possessions just to put food on the table.
"One night, this group of men; vampires, though I didn't know at the time; came to our farm. They pillaged and burned the place, and then finally proceeded in turning us into one of them." He convened on to explain how they had no choice but to stay with this group of men, but when they both had adapted, Angelica catching on almost instantly the moment she was turned, they separated themselves from the group and wandered the country wherever they pleased.
When the 1700s rolled around, the two had travelled the entire east coast before Dominic had decided to restore their old home. He had wanted to settle down with a place to call his own and so he had a large home constructed on the old property. After they had left Louisiana, several people had moved onto the property, but when Dominic and Angelica returned, the simple owners were easily disposed of.
After their lavish house was built in 1735, Dominic had decided to travel to Europe, back to the place where his family had originated. He was curious to understand the reason for his parents' departure from France, but when he arrived there, after leaving Angelica in Spain, he was discouraged to find he had not many living relatives remaining. He had searched the rest of the country for the next six years, without much luck and so he had decided to head back home, along with a friend he had brought along from the Americas and another he had met back in Aviles.
After his lengthy anecdote had ended, the silence that encompassed them was unbearable. His sad tale filled her with sorrow, and she felt guilty for going on so about her own family. She withdrew her hand from his arm and wiped away the few tears that had escaped. "I'm sorry to hear about your parents. You must think of me as such a … a cry-baby for my anguish about my family, when you have had it so much worse than I."
He shook his head gently, quietly admonishing her for her tears. "What I have done to you is inexcusable. Your family remains, alive and healthy, and you will most likely not see them again, and to live without one's family can be damaging."
She didn't bother protesting as unbidden tears trailed down her pale cheeks, leaving paths of sticky dampness. "You're right; what you did is inexcusable! Never will my mother or father hold me in their arms as I cry over something insignificant. I won't be able to endure my brother or sister's teasing anymore.
"Harmony will meet a wonderful gentleman and marry one day, and yet I won't be able to help her fit her into her wedding gown or watch as my brother journeys off to the many places he boasts about going to. My parents will pass on, and then my siblings soon after them, and I will remain as I am, a young, naïve nineteen year old girl for eternity!"
Her voice cracked as she stared at him with glistening eyes, and he made a bold move as to wipe the tears away with a calloused thumb, the action soothing and gentle. His hand trailed down her tear-stained cheek, tracing the line of her jaw and her quivering mouth.
Her voice warbled once more as she caught his hand, holding it gently in her lap with both hands. "And yet, I can't make myself hate you, no matter how hard I try. I've thought of all the things you've put me through, and tried to make myself hate you, but I simply cannot. All I see of you is the fact that you are my saviour."
With that last sentiment, she burst into hysterical tears, her heart-wrenching sobs causing her small frame to shake and tremble with their ferocity. Without hesitation, Dominic pulled her small body into his arms, cradling her gently in his lap.
Chérie took his willing comfort gratefully and clutched feverishly to his shirt, the fabric soft beneath her nimble fingers. His soothing, whispering voice spoke of nonsense in her ears, but it brought a calming comfort to her soul.
As he rocked her gently back and forth in his arms, she slowly succumbed to fatigue and fell asleep in his strong embrace, and as she was pulled into slumber's grasp, Dominic placed a whispering kiss atop her bowed head.
"Rest now, ma cher," his low voice whispered, and it seemingly went unnoticed to the slumbering woman in his arms, but an unconscious smile crept along her weary face as he to drifted off to merry sleep.