19Disclaimer: Well, I don't need one, technically - Sherlock Holmes is public domain by now.
AN: I am very sorry for the giant hiatus… I, well, essentially, was not getting anywhere with this story, and lately came to the conclusion to change a major part of the premise. Plus, unlike all my later stories (especially my Doctor Who rewrite), it isn't fleshed out at all and it's all more or less original, so… I was more than just a little stuck, at a sentence about garlic no less (lol).
This is not beta-read, as my beta seems to have disappeared, so I apologise if it all will be more modern in speech than it should be. (Anyone out there to beta, I'd appreciate it! I hate working alone.)
Moon 3: The Taste of Tragedy
I arrived at Baker Street with a rather troubled mind, for I was unsure if Holmes' usual distrust and coldness towards the fairer sex would be enough to upset or even insult her, as her butler had put it: "Doctor Watson, a last piece of advice. Never insult her. Her pride and will are not that of a woman, in the best sense. Many men are more humble than she is, and she has also a right to be like that, for it is the last which is left from her bloodline. Whoever insults or offends her will suffer at the blade that is her mind."
As I entered the living room with the bag Llewellyn's butler gave me for his master, Holmes was wandering in circles around the sofa our client was sitting on, a blanket covering her legs. "This makes absolutely no sense, Milady. Who would be brave or foolish enough to attack »The Great Raven«, not to mention a Ceaseless?"
Cardiff shook her head. "I have no idea, unfortunately. I only know three things: it was a man, a coward and a vampire. And also, I will never forget his scent…"
"Scent?" I asked, surprised, placing the bag beside her on the sofa. Afterwards I sat down in my favourite armchair, facing her.
She smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile, more like that of a beast of prey, speaking of danger. "Scent, aura, call it as you like, Doctor. A human's scent and sense of smell is not even half as strong as a vampire's, but it tells in both cases a lot of things. A high-ranked vampire is identified by an aura reeking of his personality and some flower, jasmine in my case since I am a Ceaseless. Decay is a scent only found on vampiric minions, ghouls if you will. And there is the smell of those who prey on innocent, which reeks of evil."
My friend stopped in his circles and turned to her, curious. "What was your attacker's scent, My Lady?"
The Peeress's smile faded in an instant and her face became grim. Disgust was reflected in her eyes. "I will never forget that scent. It stank of evil, greed, lust for power, hatred, corruption of the mind and roses."
"That is a lot to smell in someone's scent, Milady. Anything else?" he asked, with his back facing her now.
She closed her eyes, concentrating. "This is difficult in my current state of anaemia… but I remember something like… envy… But then again, who on earth would be envious of me?!" She was most certainly bewildered.
"Interesting. Both Envy and Hatred need personal information and connections. We may surely exclude that it was a stranger or a target of you as a Thief. But maybe we are the ones tricked and it was all a scheme of yours to get in here." He whirled around and fixated her, now openly showing his mistrust for her intelligence and her sex.
"I beg your pardon!" she hissed icily, eyes narrowed and glowing.
Returning her sharp voice, he said, "One has to question your motives once he knows what and who you are. I wonder why a woman of your cunning is getting attacked so easily on our doorstep."
"My cunning, all right… Be grateful Mr Holmes that I am a Shinso; otherwise you would be lunch by now. Why the good Lord should I risk my life only for getting entry into your rooms? You know all too well what I am capable of." I shuddered as her voice became as keen as a blade. Suddenly, I had the vision of the two fencing instead of arguing. And somehow Holmes was at a disadvantage.
In an attempt to parry the counter, he answered, "Actually, I don't know what you are truly capable of. You and your entire kind are an enigma to me. A myth long forgotten to the minds of men. To find any trustable fact is impossible."
Llewellyn arched both her eyebrows. "Impossible is nothing. Only hard to proof and explain. And I spoke of my abilities as Raven." Again, she used an intonation which reminded me of the freezing cold outside. Before I could interfere, however, she spoke again, this time in an overly polite and flat tone. "Or are you simply mistrusting me because I am a woman who is actually not one who will bend to your will, dear sir?" I knew all too well from my Army days that this was the way a noble displayed his contempt for someone, being so polite that it hurt.
Again I wanted to end this, I couldn't stand it. Holmes, who was, despite his mistrust towards women in general, always gentle and civil to them, was openly attacking a female verbally. And his opponent was not one who would simply give up for peace's sake but fight back. I got up and wanted to shout that it was enough, but then, my friend grimaced a little. "Touché, My Lady. I mistrust women altogether, for I know what they can make of a man, to what lengths a man will go for the sake of a woman."
With gritted teeth, showing her fangs openly, she answered, "I know what misery and mistreatment men can and will cause to so many women in this world or make them do for them, but I never lost faith in men. I do not mistrust a male because he is male. Even Schiller had more faith in human beings than you, and he was the one, who said »Jedoch der schrecklichste der Schrecken/ Das ist der Mensch in seinem Wahn! / Weh' denen, die dem Ewigblinden/ Des Lichtes Himmelsfackel leihn! Sie strahlt ihm nicht, sie kann nur zünden/ Und äschert Städt' und Länder ein«. I am surprised how you are able to survive in a world in which emotion rules supreme." She crossed her arms.
"Women!" hissed he. "I am curious which woman had ever hurt you so much that you mistrust the entire sex," smirked she.
That was too much. "Enough!" yelled I, not even caring about the consequences anymore as I stepped between them, directly in the line of fire. "You two, would you just be so kind to stop this nonsense! Holmes, for God's sake, stop insulting her! And you, my Lady, I know that his behaviour upsets you, but you should know better than losing your composure to some petty accusations and wasting your currently very little energy reserves on him."
I will never forget Holmes' face on that day. I usually prefer to keep my temper for myself, but this… duel… was too much. Holmes was facing an equal in terms of intellect but superior on the fields of emotions, and the stubborn quarrel he willingly engaged with the Lady in was like fighting each other while falling down into an abyss. I couldn't stand it, so I intervened and gained an intrigued face by the Lady and a bewildered expression of my friend. But with my blood boiling and my body shaking with anger, I didn't care an ounce about it; he went too far. "This absolutely, consequently, leads to nothing!"
Holmes was still taken aback. "Watson…"
Heavily sighing, however, Llewellyn got up with an unsteady footing and tapped back into the room she was currently occupying. With a quiet click, the door closed behind her.
Still trembling, I turned back to Holmes. "What the Good Lord was that… provocation for?!"
Silence was all that answered. My ever so stoic, self-controlled companion had lost his composure. After a couple of long minutes, he answered, "I don't know…"
He sat down. Clearly, he was absolutely lost, and I wondered how many times she had been able to get past his defences today. "Just what is wrong with you? You never get so agitated by a woman, usually. And don't say it's because she's a Vampire."
Holmes closed his eyes in an attempt to hide his confusion, but his pressed lips and clenched fists betrayed his inner turmoil. "Really? What do we know about her, Watson? She's a beast of prey among humans." His voice grew impatient, irritated with every word. "Under normal circumstances we would never meet her and learn her secret!"
"Holmes–"
"Enough." The storm of emotions disappeared as he picked up his cocaine bottle and syringe to indulge another round of the strong narcotic. "I believe you have a patient to attend to, my friend."
I cursed, frustrated. Having one of that kind of person around all day was already stressing, but two? When would I run out of energy actually? Such were my thoughts as I made my way towards the guest room.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Inside, Lady Llewellyn sat in bed, leaning against the wall. She was breathing rather heavily. "Are you alright, Your Ladyship?"
"No… and I must apologize for my earlier behaviour, Doctor, but… he makes my blood boil – or rather, what is left of it." She inclined her head. "Think nothing of it, Dr Watson."
"Is there anything else I can do for you, Your Ladyship?" I asked.
She turned her gaze towards the window and the faint light of the winter day. "Actually, Doctor, yes, there is something as long as it is not too much trouble… I need a towel, two albino rabbits and a razor."
"What?!" I gasped faintly in surprise.
She smiled at me sweetly. "Did I not mention earlier that I would need something to restore my strength a bit, Doctor? I certainly do not want to rely on your blood, dear sir."
I had to admire her. Her concern for me surpassed her thirst for blood, for the essence of her… existence and power, and secretly, I wondered if even one of the stories you hear as a child about vampires was true at all. So dryly, I replied, "I take it you need them alive, Milady."
The smile widened into a faint grin before it died altogether. "An old rule of vampirism is never to feed upon the dead. It's sacrilegious. Besides, feeding upon the dead makes one no better than a fiend."
"I see… if the question is allowed, how do you feel about… garlic?" I knew it was a bit ridiculous, but I simply needed to know.
She blinked, once, twice. Then, out of nowhere, she threw her head back and laughed heartily. Finally she answered, "Actually, I have a certain inclination towards garlic in oil as sauce with grilled fish. The whole garlic thing is true superstition, Doctor. Especially when you talk to a Shinso woman."
"Oh. And why?"
"First, I have told you before that a vampire's sense of smell is quite keen; just imagine how easy you are to find if you reek of garlic! And second, most stories you hear about vampires are about minions: vampires without a living soul, less than a shadow or a ghoul… but this is really not the time for these things." She made a pained grimace. "I really do not want to sound like a lowlife minion, but I am really drained, and it does not feel pleasant."
"Very well then." Thinking about it, it occurred to me that it would maybe better to send Holmes to fetch the vampiric breakfast of the Shinso; leaving these two alone was not a good idea by now. "I'm sure that Mr Holmes would do you the favour to get these ones. He needs some fresh air anyway."
"I can imagine." I turned to the door. "Anything else, Your Ladyship?"
"Yes. I'd like to have that box of chocolates my butler gave you, and could you please ask that sweet Housekeeper of yours to help me dress?"
"Of course." I smiled and returned to the living room where Holmes was lying in his typical comatose, cocaine-hazed fashion on the sofa. Again. Sighing, I rang for Mrs Hudson and asked her to help our guest with getting dressed and bring her the chocolate. Afterwards, I picked up the Times, sat down in my armchair opposite of Holmes and waited for his awakening. "Honestly, my friend, I wonder how long you will keep up this self-destructive behaviour, even in the face of the maybe ultimate case of your life…" Sighing, I opened the newspaper at the pages for everyday politics.
After I finally lost interest into the quarrels of Her Majesty's government, Holmes stirred and groaned. "Ah, back to the land of the living at last, my friend?" I quipped.
He massaged his skull to fight the upcoming headache and depression, coming down from his high. "Very funny," he grumbled as he realized the joking reference to our client.
"Well, I figured you could need some fresh air and more information about our guest than the usual records… would you have the kindness to run an errant for me? I have a patient to watch."
"What is it?"
"Buy two healthy and well-sized Albino rabbits. Still alive."
"Why would you need that, Watson?"
"Earlier, she requested something to replenish her strength a bit but she didn't want to rely on our blood and suggested the rabbits."
Putting away the cocaine, he sighed but nodded. "Fine, I will go, but keep your revolver on you at all times Watson."
"I will, although I doubt that will help." I went to my desk and pulled out the weapon, loaded it and placed it into the pocket of my jacket. Afterwards, I returned to the living room. "Satisfied?"
Holmes stood up and nodded. "Be wary of her, my dear Watson. Very wary." Then, he went to his room, dressed, and was out of the house in record time.
I shook my head at his antics. He really needed a better stimulus in such times than the various narcotics he took in – I had given up smoking regularly a year ago, considering its toll on the body, but Holmes made a point in using everything the market had for stimulation from A to Z, just for not being bored or idle. But then again, he mistrusted women. Knowing though that he would take his sweet time to gather what was needed; I headed back to our guest's room, where a rather disturbing sight met my eyes. Writhing in pain, and covered with cold sweat, Llewellyn was fighting the impulse to lose consciousness. As I stepped closer to help, she yelled, "Stay away!" Her voice was hoarse, weak and strained from the effort.
"Milady, I just want to help," I answered, just like I would tell a sick child. Obviously, she was as addicted to her self-control as good Holmes was; most likely a result of being brought up as an heiress, a woman in a man's place.
"It is not I you should be concerned about doctor, but your own safety. I really don't want to bite you in a reflex… currently, you smell…" she grimaced, fighting something like a blush.
"What do I smell like, Milady Vampire?" I was actually curious what a Shinso, a True Ancestor could smell and thus would think of me.
She groaned. "Like a state banquet. You are definitely a good person, Doctor Watson. So please, for both our sakes…"
"That will never do, milady. You are suffering a fever and painful spasms induced by it."
"Always the doctor, until the bitter end…" Her breathing was heavy. "Fine. I am in your hands." Suddenly, she fell backwards, surrendering herself to the darkness.
As soon as it seemed secure, I checked her over. She was indeed burning up, so I rang for Mrs Hudson and let her bring some towels and cold water; soothing the ache and the heat. She had to be completely drained… of what, I still didn't know though. "Hurry up Holmes…"
Even unconscious, the young lady was not at ease. Her face was creased in stress, and she kept fidgeting. All I could do seemed not enough, but on the other side, I surely didn't want to end up as lunch, so I kept up my wary ministrations for what seemed to be hours.
Steps on the staircase woke me from an involuntary nap. I yawned and stretched as I recognized the shuffling footsteps and the careless treatment of a without a doubt very fine pair of shoes. Making sure that she still was asleep, and the fever had died, I pulled the door open. "Holmes, you are too loud for comfort," I complained.
"Do you know how difficult it is to find something which is normally used only by illusion artists?" he grumbled back, putting down a cage with the required rabbits onto the couch table.
Typical for my friend, especially around a woman again. And I had the feeling that the next confrontation was just a few minutes away. "Get me a few clean towels and a shaving knife, will you." I picked up the cage. "I am in the guest room."
Holmes muttered under his breath and disappeared into the general direction of the bathroom.
WwWwWwWwWwWwWwWwWwWwWwWwWwWwWwW
"Milady. Please wake–"
Llewellyn woke with a start, eyes glowing briefly and an air of general confusion around her. "What, where? Oh, it is you, Doctor…"
I put the cage onto the nightstand. "Lunch is ready, Milady."
Just then, Holmes appeared with the shaving kit, placing it just beside the vampire's prey.
The smile she displayed was somewhat implacable to me, but I am certain that my good friend and flat-mate figured it out. "Thank you gentlemen." With an effort to stay independent, she slid backwards and leaned against the headboard.
Holmes shrugged. "Milady."
Llewellyn took out one of the rabbits, and now I saw why she requested a razor – biting into fur was not exactly appetizing indeed. Shaving the neck of the animal, its white hairs fell onto the towel, then… a short moment of struggle, and then nothing, only the sound of her drinking blood. The rabbit was dead, and I was certain that now even a Jewish would eat it; it was bloodless, if the paled skin around the neck was any indicator. Repeating the process quickly, she afterwards wrapped the carcasses into the towel, which confirmed my suspicion about the blood amount of the poor animals: no drop had been wasted. Llewellyn breathed audibly, trying to rein in her thirst. "Thank you again gentlemen, I am much better." She put the dead animals back to the nightstand, towel and all.
"Looks like we'll have rabbit for dinner Holmes," I joked, a bit uneasily.
"Indeed… Just for interest Milady Vampire… what is your usual prey?" Holmes, who had watched the strange scene with scientific interest, was utterly curious, and I admit that this interested me too, in a terrifying way. After all, her "usual prey", as Holmes called it… were most likely fellow human beings.
Blinking slowly, she answered just as slowly, "Murders, Blackmailers, Rapists, and above all, suicidal people. One would not want them to go to Gehenna for taking their own lives. The others… if you or Scotland Yard won't get them, I will without fail. But at my rank, the need to feed is greatly diminished, just about once every two months or so to maintain sanity and power."
"Interesting…"
"My maker had been so powerful she needed to kill only once a month, prior to her passing into eternity." Llewellyn shook her head. "It is possible to feed without killing the human but… who would do this willingly?"
"What do you refer to, Milady?" Holmes asked, intrigued.
"To feed a vampire, basically being a slave, or a member of the vampire's court." She turned her eyes to the side. "In ancient times, some vampires shared their homes with humans who donated, provided a reliable blood source in exchange for the protection of the vampire. But this was rare even then. Nowadays such offerings are considered displays of friendship, trust and even affection." She sighed. "I wish I could hunt. Weather is ideal…"
"Oh?" I wish I had less restraint that very moment, as Holmes had set out another provocation. But I shouldn't have worried.
"Late autumn, and winter in general, is the season for suicide and murder," she answered laconically.
While I gaped at the idea, Holmes simply arched an eyebrow. "It is."
Mrs Hudson chose that very moment to announce lunch.
Food Food Food Food Food Food Food Food Food Food Food Food
Lunch had been a strange affair, as Llewellyn and I had chatted about politics, the world and generally everything else, while Holmes, usually never short a comment, had seemed more interested in the endeavour of forcing himself to eat. After lunch, the three of us sat down in the living room, the lady idly plundering the chocolates her butler had added to her luggage. Searching the meagre information we had on the Guild, Holmes sat at his crowded desk.
As the air in the room was not quite comfortable to breathe, I ventured to open a window. Immediately, a sharp late autumn gust pushed it wide open, causing a glowing ember to be blown up, right into the direction of Lady Llewellyn. Her reaction was immediate, as she nearly toppled over at trying to get out of the way of the airborne flame. Hastily, I rushed back and helped her back onto the chesterfield. "Are you alright, milady?"
"Keep that away from me!" She shuddered, her arms wrapped around her lanky frame.
Holmes had reacted quickly, and used yesterday's edition of The Sun to beat out the flame that now had singed the carpet. "Fire?"
"Only weakness of a Ceaseless Pureblood apart from exsanguination and silver compounds. Young Shinso, such as I, are also vulnerable to decapitation. And if you haven't awakened in full, you can drown too," she explained, shaking her head as if to clear it. "We are born of darkness and ice and mist, so fire, which bites more than the sun's glare, is our death."
Abandoning his search, Holmes sat down in his armchair, faced our supernatural client and studied her. "But even with that in mind, your reaction was rather extreme, milady."
I nodded slowly. "Fearing fire is instinct to humans, and given what you just said, even more to a vampire, but… could it be that your current physical state makes you susceptible to succumbing to mere instinct far more easily?"
Llewellyn tore her gaze away from us, embarrassed. "Rem acu tetigistis, kind sirs. I have never felt so weak in my second life before," she complained.
Holmes bit his lip deep in thought; after a while then, he made a decision. Standing in front of her, he rolled up his sleeve, offering his right forearm, hand in a fist. "Gathering on this, it would take weeks for you to recover if you rely on livestock. Take it."
To say she was shocked would have been understatement in all its glory. Finally, she asked an absolutely unexpected question. "Have you ever killed someone in cold blood, for revenge or personal gain? To wrongfully right a wrong with another wrong? Before I bite into something that could taint my aura with the stench of touching an innocent. Even if willingly, as a gift… I'd rather not risk this."
Obviously remembering, Holmes closed his eyes. Things which were before our partnership most likely. "There had been a time… when I took the law into my own hands, Milady. There had been a time once… when I could have become a thief. So yes, there is blood on my hands."
After a period of consideration, fixating the offered arm, she nodded curtly. "Very well. But I suggest you rather sit down."
"Certainly." Holmes pulled up a chair in front of her and held out his offering again.
With slightly shaking hands she took the arm and whispered, "Forgive me, Lord, for I am about to sin." Then, she lifted his wrist to her lips and bit down… But not even taking more than a single swallow, her eyes opened and she tossed my friend's arm back to him in horror. "How? Why? Why are you doing this to yourself?" Shrinking in on herself, her hands clenched her temples in terror. "Why are you so intent on destroying yourself?"
The puzzlement on my friend's face was genuine, not quite understanding why she had suddenly flinched back from his offer; however, I had an inkling of what horrified her like that: my friend's habits.
In a horrendous display of callousness, Holmes retorted sharply, "So? It is my life, and I will do with it as I please."
"You have no idea!"
"And you do?" scoffed he, turning away. "Mrs. Hudson!" yelled he, leaving the room.
Just then, the air in the room seemed to freeze in a sudden chill. "More than you will ever know, foolish mortal. More than you will ever know," she whispered after him.
AN: Translation of the German quote of Schiller: Yet the most horrible of horrors/ Is man in his deluded state. Woe's them, who heaven's torch of lighting/ Unto the ever-blind doth lend! / It lights him not, 'tis but igniting, /And towns and lands to ash doth rend.