Even After Death (BBC Dracula x OC Fanfic) MATURE READERS ONLY.

Prologue:

The ball had been quite lively with the sight of little kids running amuck, young couples throwing flirtatious banter, and the occasional drunken spill from the elder bunch of old generals and town's officials. Their own wives seemed to either be gossiping about the next match between the young couples to be set or drinking away themselves.

The night was still young, and the master of the house, Vlad himself, had yet to be seen. His wife was a dainty thing with pale blonde hair and almost dullish grey eyes. She had a young son on her hip and handmaiden close at hand.

Alcohol had been quite ineffective to her now that she had been changed. It was such a shame. She wanted to feel intoxicated like more than half of these mortals were.

"My lady," a young man approached her from seemingly out of nowhere but she knew that he had been waiting for the right time to approach her. She was familiar with him as he was one of the town's farmers.

"It has been a couple of seasons I have seen you last young Mr. Thomas, how has your family been," her eyes never left the spinning and dancing dancers that were following along to the music.

"My pa has fallen quite ill and mama said that it was only a matter of time till the lord calls him home. But I wished to thank you once again," she cut him off with a raise of her hand.

"Do not fret about it any longer and is he in pain," she questioned finally turned to the young man. She noticed his eyes were rimmed red and his fingernail beds were still slightly covered in dirt.

"Some days he is better and others," he cut off. She sighed, "I will come see him tomorrow around noon. Please have fresh water and cloth ready for when I get there. I will check over him and see if there is anything that I can do." The young man grasped her hand and whispered, "Thank you."

She nodded before watching him walk off.

She was a healer still even if she now dipped into black magic more than anything. She still had morals, and that was that.

The ballroom seemed to quiet down and the music softened as the lord of the household finally made his presence.

He was handsome in a rugged way. Dark hair, dark eyes, strong shoulders and arms. Certainly, still enjoying the life of a soldier.

His physical presence was also something else. She wasn't used to this urge to get closer and not just to feast on his soul or blood itself.

He sat upon the throne next to his wife and she could tell from this far away that his wife was displeased with him. She ignored him for the most part even when the young son of his seeked his attention.

Vlad picked up the young boy who was stumbling towards him and laughed at something that he must have said.

She watched as Vlad then turned to his staff and nodded for the music to begin playing at full volume once again and she decided that she had seen what she had wanted.

Just another warlord seeking glory and power. Another mortal who would eventually die as humans do.

She turned away from him and headed for the garden's doors, with one last look around at the festivities she paused with her hand on the door's handle.

Vlad had seemed to be watching her.

She merely nodded before turning and leaving the party and heading to the quietness of the garden.

She could finally breathe.

_________

Even before death, she liked to be alone. She liked listening to nature that had once surrounded her place in the woods. She regularly fed the deer and threw out bad vegetables/fruits for any herbivores that wondered close to her home.

She stopped at a bush of roses, they seemed to be blooming with the change of the seasons that would soon be summer.

Her hand picked one up and avoided the thorns.

"My own townspeople could not seem to tell me much about you other than that you have been traveling through Wallachia for a few moons now," a voice called from behind her.

"They do not need to know every little thing about a traveler. I buy their items full price and then some and should not be seen as a worry," she responded, turning to the owner of the voice.

Vlad Tepes.

"As the rightful lord of this town I do wish to know what has my townspeople slightly on edge, they say that you are traveling alone. That is not deemed as a good thing for a young woman such as yourself," he stepped closer to her so that they were out of view of the ballroom and its occupants.

The hedgerow was the entrance to the labyrinth that his own children and the servants would venture through day in and day out.

"My name is Melina Petrovna, I was born in Moldavia where I was orphaned as a young child. I am simply passing through with a few moons break here and there to learn about the culture and specific herbs and flowers," she finally turned completely to him and met eyes of the warlord that seemed to be whispered about everywhere that she has gone.

"Melina, what a unique name," he stepped even closer and suddenly she almost doubled over at the alluring smell coming from the man. She had never smelled anything like it. It was dark, husky, and almost smokey to an extent. She was reminded of fresh bark being lit on a flame.

"And you are Vlad Tepes the Third," she stated blankly as she could avoiding as much as his scent as possible.

"That I am, my dear."

There was a pause of silence.

She felt almost peaceful with this human standing beside her.

"I am going to tell you something that you may or may not believe because who would truly believe you," she finally decided.

She told him her past, telling her all the gory details of that night and the fact that she was no longer human. She has lived for 300 years and there will be many more to come.

He seemed to be taking it in and then she finally completed her story before saying, "And I wish that you do not die the same way that I did on that battlefield you warlords seem to love so much."

He was still quiet as she disappeared down the path into the labyrinth farther away from him and the party. He was in disbelief at what she had told him for one and for two, maybe he could find a way to become something such as her to win this war that has been raging his country.

When he finally processed everything she had said, she was gone.

Like a ghost.

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The Prologue is brought to you by The Farm Fresh Scramble, which I had for breakfast and usually I don't eat breakfast.. That's a win!