Lord van Zieks, a friend of mine saw you take off your shirt one day at the beach and he said that you were shredded, that you had an 8 pack. I would like to find the truth out for myself, if you'd be so kind.
"Are you seriously asking me to undress myself in the middle of my office?! I won't entertain such a foolish notion, now begone!"
Not to mention, who was spying on him at the seaside? It was a most foul invasion of privacy (not least of all because the individual in question must have been spying into the beach hut where he was getting changed into his bathing suit...)
Walking through the streets of London is a garishly drabbed... someone. Her chartreuse eyes glow with an otherworldly light as her inhumanly long ears bounce with each step, denizens of the city parting before her. “Look at it, Sunshine!” She chirps to a ginger feline eagerly sticking her pink nose around, staring down strangers with jade eyes. “I’ve never even seen Gilneas before... It’s completely different from what I’ve imagined it!” She speaks with an accent that can only be described as an odd mix of Spanish and American. Bystanders whisper and look at her, unsure of what to make her, but the stranger doesn’t notice! In fact, she seems to be taking it in stride.
“The smell is Light-awful though... I think I would prefer the smell of wet dog.” She says to herself, and stops, peering down an alley. “Well, it sure does look familiar...” She steps down, walking with a bounce in her step. Her eyes are the only thing that glow in the dim of the alley, as she makes sure to step over broken bottles and puddles of what she hopes is just water. Thugs and other ne’er-do-wells creep closer to the stranger wearing gold, with an elegant silk bag.
“Oy, girlie...” A whisper from the shadows, and she stops in her stride.
“Hm?” Her head turns in the direction of the one who spoke. “Do... do you need some coin?”
“Depends on how much coin ye got...” They chuckle, and she tilts her head, tapping at her chin with her glove.
“Weeeeell... I think I can give you about... oh, ten gold? Or.. or is that too little? Or are there some other coins you use instead?”
“Golds fine, girlie...” They grin with broken and lost teeth that have long since been stained from booze. “In fact, why don’t ye give me all of it?”
“All... all of what?” Confusion crosses her features. “All of the gold in the world? Or—”
“Yer coin.” A glint in the alley, and before she knows it, a knife is being brandished her way, and when she looks back, she sees other criminals closing in on her.
The sensible thing to do in this situation is run, or if she were strong enough, she could fight them off. Instead, she gasps as if a light bulb went off over her head.
“Oooh! So this is why people don’t walk down weird alleys!”
Request was not messaged to me directly, rather I am fulfilling a request sent to @bailey-reaper.
Content Warnings:
pregnancy
missed periods
referenced drug use
I will be using my headcanon name (Rose) for convenience, if you have preference for a different name anon please let me know. Also, I got little to nothing when looking into what it was like to be on your period in the 1800s so I guessed.
Will be cross-posting to ziekerville on AO3!
It has been nearly three days, now. She has been checking her skirts for the spots of crimson she has grown accustomed to seeing. But no, nothing. Maybe she has simply miscalculated... but checking her diary informs her that no, each month comes like clockwork, and rarely, if ever, skips around.
Her teeth chew at her bottom lip, staring at the pages with her handwriting. What could this mean...? Surely, vampires were incapable of conceiving children, considering their nature... they had done away with using condoms a long time ago, mostly because they only had eyes for each other, and didn’t envision themselves taking a lover outside of their marriage. Given how difficult it was for her mother to conceive her, Rose assumed that it would be the same for her.
She casts a glance to the coffin where her husband sleeps, made out of polished redwood and gold lining the edges of it. Waking him up during the daytime wouldn’t kill him, their windows were carefully covered to prevent stray sunlight from sneaking in. But it would be awfully rude... yet there was no one else she wished to consult... except perhaps a seer. Wasn’t there an advert for one amongst their mail? She gets up, walking to the sitting room, with stacks of books and letters that her husband didn’t deem worth the trouble of sorting. They were mostly used as fuel for the fire in place of firewood, but given his position as a prosecutor, the letters were plenty and stacked quickly. Thumbing through them was easy, and it isn’t long until she sees the flyer in question:
NEED TO KNOW WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS? CONTACT HERLOCK SHOLMES AT 221B BAKER STREET FOR ALL DIVINATION SERVICES.
Well, beggars cannot be choosers... Rose gets up and heads to her room, opening her closet and picking out the dullest frock she has in her possession. But most importantly is a bonnet to carefully fashion her curls out of sight. Not many nobles had the color of her curls, and there were far too many rumors that the woman Klint van Zieks flaunted as his thrall was actually, in fact, his lover. if she were publicly seen visiting a seer... oh, the press would have a field day! Using an omnibus was out of the question, too much attention would be called to her. It would have to be the portal, then— a quick hop through the leylines to London. The van Zieks estate had many entrances hidden around, but Klint had one carefully put in the back of his wardrobe, for the evenings where he had slept in and had to get to the Old Bailey quickly. She fits in quite easily, and with a jolt in her stomach, she feels herself whisked away... then her shoes land on the pavement of the London streets.
A soft tingle hums in the back of her head, acting as a sort of string, pulling her along to her destination. She focuses on her steps, making sure to keep her head down, to try to keep the springing in her step from causing her curls to pop loose.
Finally, she is at the door, and before she can knock the door is whisked open. Before her is a blonde gentleman with wild curls and eyes.
“I have been expecting you, madam! Come in, quickly!” He takes her wrist and yanks her into the room, where she is lead to a comfortable sofa as he flits about the room, brimming with energy.
“Er... sir, are you—”
“Yes, the one! The only! Herlock Sholmes!” He moves as if he is upon a grand stage, and she blinks.
Well, that’s one question out of the way. She opens her mouth to speak once more—
“Your monthly cycle has skipped a few days, has it not?”
“Ye—”
“Well, fear not, madame! The only sickness you shall have to fear comes only in the mornings. Ginger will help you greatly, and you should take care to avoid dogs. They will not take kindly to your companion.” His energy as he paces the room makes her antsy too, and she presses a hand to her knee to keep her leg from bouncing.
“Y-yes, I know that dogs do not take kindly to va—” She pinches her thigh through the fabric. “...er, my husband. They are allergic to him.”
“No, no, not that companion!” He huffs, gesturing wildly. “The one with you, right now! You haven’t met her yet, though. If you wish to meet her, then when it is time, call for a midwife, your husband, and do not go into the light!” All the breath and bravado is knocked out of him, as he stumbles onto the sofa next to her and promptly falls asleep, snoring. She can only stare at him, stunned.
What was that nonsense he just spewed? Some sort of prophecy? Ramblings of a fool who drank too much laudanum?
Well, whatever it was... she might as well pay him for his time. She pulls open her coin purse, and pulls out a few guinea, opting to put them on his forehead, and leaves, going back to the van Zieks estate on foot.
--
As soon as she approaches the front door to their estate, it is flown open, and she finds herself being scooped up by a set of familiar arms.
“You had me worried sick, my love!” He scolds her, squeezing her tight enough to knock the breath out of her. “I open the coffin, and my dear wife is nowhere nearby, and I began to fear that perhaps someone had kidnapped he—”
She lets out a wheeze, trying to signal that she needs to breathe, and thankfully, he understands. He adjusts her in his arms, carrying her over the threshold into their estate, gliding into the sitting room. There, they both settle upon the sofa as she takes in deep breaths.
“So... my love, where did you disappear to?”
“I... I went to see a seer.” Rose relaxes, letting herself fall back against the cushions.
“Whatever for?”
“Well, my monthly cycle hadn’t arrived for a few days now... and I got concerned. I thought that perhaps something had happened, and when I went in... he just babbled a lot of nonsense. Something about keeping dogs away from my companion, and when I said ‘yes, my husband’ he told me ‘no, not that one’.”
“Ah, he must have meant Barok.”
“Well, he used ‘she’... I doubt that he was referring to Barok.”
The tone in the room shifts, filled with trepidation. She looks to Klint, who is staring at her face, studying her.
“What... did he say, exactly?” He inquires, slowly, as if he is savoring the syllables.
“Erm... I’ll do my best.... ‘the only sickness you should fear comes in the morning, avoid dogs, they won’t like your companion... not your husband, the one with you right now, if you want to meet her, call a mid...’“ Her mind clicks. Midwife, morning sickness, companion... “Oh my lord. I’m with child.... I’m... I’m... I’m going to be a mother.” Her lips curl into a grin, eyes stinging with tears as she covers her mouth with her trembling hands. All her composure is drained out of her as she sobs, pressing her face to her husband’s chest, slipping her hands down to hold his hands.
“I’m going to be a father, Rose, oh, my love... I didn’t think such a thing could happen. I was already content with sharing my life with you, but... this... this is...”
“Wonderful.”
“I was going to say ‘frightening’—”
“No! It is a wonderful thing! I’ve always known I wanted to be the mother of your children, and this... this is everything I have ever wanted.” Ideally, she wanted several children, at least three. Would they be a handful? Of course, but Klint being at her side would make it all worth it. He would be the perfect father.
“But... you’re a human, and I am a vampire... what will that child face? Will they be able to walk in the sun? What if they—”
Rose quiets his concerns with a kiss. They could discuss the gravity of this turn of events later, but right now, she was on top of the world, mind whirring with what the future holds for all three of them.
Do you resent your brother at all for what he did to you and to others?
"Resent is not the correct word for how I feel... I was ... saddened to learn how my brother suffered in silence. It hurts to know that he felt unable to confide in me. I know his reasons for doing so were because he did not want to drag those he cared about into his darkness–– but one thing I've come to learn is that facing one's inner darkness alone is unwise; for it will eat away at you until you are but a shadow of your former self. Above all... I wish with all my heart that Klint had not suffered in silence to the extent that he took such drastic and desperate actions. The impacts of his actions are far-reaching and have affected a great many innocent people... I wish that was not my brother's legacy, for it does not reflect the man he was for such a large part of his life. A good man, who believed in justice and wanted to make a positive difference."
Never in all my life has one sentence made me laugh more – just the image of him in some 80′s / 90's rave is killing me (even though I know full well that’s not the type of club he was at, it’s still hilarious)
Barok van Zieks shall be away from the Prosecutor's Office until further notice –– that being until this affliction passes or he passes due to not feeding properly...
". . ." Barok's breeches were specifically tailored to his measurements, so a sudden change was easily felt. Yet the nature of the change was perplexing. He didn't have words to describe the wriggling sensation at the base of his spine, and it was only once he'd had a chance to check in the Prosecutor's Office lavatories that he finally realised that he'd somehow managed to acquire a tail in addition to his ears.
Lord Van Zieks, did your mother never tell you bats can get tangled in your hair? You will regret not evicting the animals one of these days, when you find yourself running to a barber with a bat stuck in that luscious mane.
"My mother died when I was an infant, so no, she did not have any pearls of wisdom to give me. As for my hair: it is hardly of such a length that a bat would become tangled in it. Besides–– they seem content to roost during my working hours, so thus far I've not been troubled by their presence."
