Story [Dracula Untold] The Unity Of This (Vlad/Mirena)

Title: The Unity Of This
Author: Dantana Skywalker
Timeframe: post-Dracula Untold
Characters: Vlad Dracula, Mina Murray
Genre: romance, angst
Summary: After the death of her fiancé, Mina Murray takes a teaching position at a university in Romania. It's there that she meets a handsome stranger named Vlad, and her life completely changes. He has secrets, but is he dangerous?
Notes: To quote River Song, spoilers!



-----------------------------------------------

--Chapter One--

If she'd turned left instead of right, Mina Murray's life might never have changed.

Evening was falling as she strolled down one of the streets of Bucharest, headed home from work a different direction than usual. She had a lot on her mind and wanted to mull through it. Her year's time here was almost at an end, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to return home to London, or take the offer of an extended position at the company.

With a sigh, she wandered amongst the flower vendors, admiring the wide variety of colours and scents. She stopped at one cart that had pink and red peonies. Feeling drawn to them, she pick up a small bunch of pink ones to take home.

"Pretty flowers," the woman selling the flowers said, in Romanian. "For a pretty lady."

"Oh, thank you!"

Mina hesitated over some mums, thinking they’d fill out a bouquet nicely, when the woman shook her head.

“No, mums are bad luck,” the seller said. “You do not want those.”

“Really? Mum are bad luck? That’s funny, I’ve never heard of that.” Mina's reply in the same tongue was halting. Deciding it didn’t matter, she smiled and handed over the requisite number of leu for the peonies.

The vendor fell silent suddenly, eyes flicking to Mina's left. She was suddenly aware of a presence there, and turned, but there was no one there.

"Beautiful."

She turned to her right and looked up at the speaker, as he continued, in English. "The flowers," he said. "My lady."

"My lady," she repeated, with amusement. He was handsome, she saw, high cheekbones and a strong jaw dusted with dark hair. "Where are *you* from?"

"A long ways from here," he told her. There was an unnerving intensity in his dark hazel eyes.

He smiled, a little quirk of the mouth, and hesitated, as if wanting to speak.

Mina spoke before he could. "Well, good night!" she blurted, rattled by the feeling in her stomach that wanted to stay. She wasn't the type to talk to strangers, especially ones odd enough to call her "my lady".

As she hurried away, the peonies clutched in her hands, she heard from behind her, "Why think separately of this life and the next, when one is born from the last?"

She stopped, and a chill rushed over her, an overwhelming and intense sense of homesickness and longing stealing her breath. She turned, feeling shaky.

"That's my favourite poem," she told him, somewhat incredulous.

"It speaks to you of yearning," he said, as he closed the space between them. "Of one soul pleading for another."

She stared up at him, blue eyes huge, and said, "I'm Mina."

He took her hand in his gloved one, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Vlad."

Mina smiled, charmed by the gesture. "How did you know I'm English?"

Vlad returned the smile, bigger this time. "Your Romanian is terrible."

She laughed.

He gestured with a gloved hand towards the sidewalk ahead of them. "May I take you to dinner, Mina?"

She hesitated, thought of how lonely she'd been since Jon died. "You may," she replied impishly. "As long as you help me with my Romanian."

“If that’s all, certainly.”

She laughed. “I should introduce myself properly. I’m Mina Murray.”

“Vlad Nicolae,” he said. “Have you been in Romania long, Mina?”

“I’m finishing up a year’s teaching at the university,” she said. “I’ve been offered a permanent position, but I’m trying to decide if I want to take it, or head back to Britain.”

“I’m sure Romania would feel your loss,” Vlad said. He stopped at a recessed door, one without markings. It was just one of a number of old buildings scattered throughout the city.

At her curious look, he told her, “A local secret. I know the owner.”

They went inside, and Mina saw it was a small, cozy restaurant, converted from an old family home. They were warmly greeted, their coats taken, and quickly shown to a table. Vlad was a gentleman and helped Mina into a seat at the table.

“There’s no menu here,” Vlad told her, as he sat down. “The cook is . . . eccentric. Diners eat what he feels like serving.”

“Do we at least get to choose our wine?” she asked, delighted by the novelty.

“We do,” he told her. To the server, he spoke in quick Romanian. To Mina, he said, “I’ve asked for a red of a decent year. I’m afraid I don’t drink wine much.”

“Neither do I,” she confessed. “I mostly confine myself to a glass after a difficult day at work.”

He gave a slight nod. “I can understand that. You said you teach at the university? What subject?”

“Gothic literature,” she said. “You know, Stoker, Shelley, the classics of British horror.”

“Shelley is a favourite of mine,” he told her, “though I’m not much a fan of most of Stoker’s works. I did, however, visit a few places where he lived and worked when I was in Dublin a few years ago.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t travelled much,” Mina confessed. “Romania is my first time living outside of London, though I’ve been to Paris, and Berlin. I was born in London, and until recently, just hadn’t seen a need to leave it.”

“I was born in Sighișoara. That’s in Mureș County, to the north of here,” Vlad said. “It’s a small town, very old, but I’ve spent most of my life here and there. I lived for a time in Budapest, I had an . . . internship in Istanbul.”

She arched a blonde brow. “Istanbul? That must have been interesting. What was the internship for?”

“Religious studies. It didn’t agree with me, though, so I returned to Romania as soon as I could.”

“Mm.”

Their server reappeared, with a tray loaded with dishes. They were placed family-style in the middle of the table. Mina saw it was a typical fare of potatoes, sausages, cabbage rolls served with sour cream, and a bean and meat soup.

“What is it that you do, Vlad?” she asked. “You haven’t said.”

“I dabble,” he told her. “After my studies, I came into some family money, and I’ve done what I can to expand the family ventures. I own a vineyard just outside Târgoviște. Ironic, I know, as I don’t sample much of my own product.”

“Well, if it’s a family tradition, it can’t just be dropped, I suppose.”

“Easily,” Vlad said, “as I have no family left.”

She frowned, full lips turning down. “I haven’t any, either, unless you count my best friend Lucy. She’s practically a sister, but . . . I’m an orphan, I’m afraid. I never knew my parents. Lucy’s family fostered me.”

Vlad leaned his forearms on the table, folding his ungloved hands before him. His long fingers were bare of any jewelry, though she noticed a leather cord just barely visible at the gap of his black shirt.

“That’s unfortunate,” he told her softly. “Family is, I think, the most important thing. I lost my parents and my brother when I was young, but I knew them.”

Mina smiled. “That’s good. I suppose I can’t really miss what I never knew, so I don’t mind all that much.”

They ate in silence for a while, Vlad mostly picking at small bits of food. Mina noticed, but didn’t comment. It was possible the cook’s choices weren’t his favourite, but it wasn’t her place to say anything.

“What made you choose Romania?” he asked over dessert. “Of all places you could have taught, why in Bucharest?”

Mina picked up her wine glass and swirled the deep red contents a little, staring at the liquid for a while before answering. “It was Lucy’s idea, really. She thought a change of scenery might help me.”

His hazel eyes turned soft with concern, which she didn’t see. “Help you?”

She looked up then, and her eyes were just a little wet. “My fiance, Jonathan, uh . . . He died about eighteen months ago, shortly before we were supposed to get married.”

Vlad’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

She shook her head. “It’s alright. Um. When the teacher exchange program opened up, Lucy--she’s a music teacher back in London, at Clare College--she suggested that I do it. Get away for a while. She was right. It’s been good for me. I almost don’t want to go home.”

“Not to belittle your loss, I’m very sorry for that,” Vlad began, then paused. “Perhaps you were meant to come to Romania.”

She took a big gulp of her wine. “Maybe.” Mina cleared her throat. “Sorry. Maybe I was.”

“No need to apologise.” Vlad smiled gently. “I, too . . . lost my wife.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! God, what a pair we are!” Mina pushed her wine glass away. “Do you . . . mind if I ask how?”

“Not at all. It’s been long enough that . . . it’s not as difficult. I’m afraid she was murdered. A man came into our home, and . . .” Vlad stopped.

Mina reached across the table and put her hand over his. “That must have been terrible for you. Were you married long?”

“Ten years. Nearly eleven. We married young.” He gave himself a shake. “Anyway. She would be happy I’m not being a recluse.”

That got a smile out of her. “Yes. I think Jonathan wouldn’t want me to wallow, either.”

Seeing that she was finished, Vlad rose and offered her a hand. “Can I walk you home?” he asked.

“Don’t we need to . . . settle the bill?”

His smile was wry. “As I said, I dabble. I know the owner because the owner is me.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling silly. “Um. Yes, I suppose you can.”

Vlad helped her into her coat. It was spring, but there was still a chill in the air. Mina didn’t live far, just a few blocks, and they walked in companionable silence for most of the way.

At her door, he again took her hand. He slipped a business card into it, then kissed her knuckles once more.

“I’d like to see you again, Mina Murray. If you’ll let me.”

Mina ducked her head a little, smiling. “I’d like that.”

“You have my number. Call me when you’re free.”

“I will. Thank you for a lovely evening, Vlad.”

“You are most welcome.”

She turned to unlock the door. “I should be free on Friday.”

“I’ll look forward to your call. Good night, Mina.”

When she turned to say good night, he was gone.

 

--Chapter Two--

The next few days flew by, and yet to Mina, they also seemed to drag. For the first time in what seemed like years, she had something to look forward to, and she couldn't keep her mind off Vlad.

She was in the middle of administering a test to her second-level students when there was a knock at the classroom door, and a courier entered, holding a gigantic bouquet of white roses. It was at least two dozen, and he struggled to navigate the doorway with them.

"Delivery for Ms. Murray," he said, in somewhat broken English.

Mina hurried to take the bouquet from him. "Thank you," she said in Romanian.

He nodded his head and left. Trying to ignore the giggling students, Mina took the bouquet to her desk. The entire classroom filled with the scent of roses.

The card attached read, in a tight but graceful hand, "My dear Mina- Thank you for brightening my evening. I apologise for the tardiness of the roses, but I couldn't decide which flower suited you more. Perhaps next time, I'll send pink." It was signed with a V.

The giggling of the teenagers increased, and she found she was blushing. She scolded the students lightly and resisted the urge to do something stupid, like hug the card. One dinner with the man, and she was acting like the silly teenager she'd never been.

How had he known she loved white roses? Lucky guess, probably.

During her lunch break between classes, she gave into curiosity and looked him up online. Vlad Nicolae did, indeed, own a vineyard. There wasn't much information out there. She was tempted to search for information on his murdered wife--why that bothered her so much, she wasn't sure--but managed to resist. Besides, she didn't know the woman's name, or where Vlad had been living at the time. From the sound of it, he'd travelled a lot and it could have been anywhere.

Instead, she picked up her mobile. She'd programmed Vlad's number in, but had yet to call him. Sheer nerves had kept her from it. He made her palms sweat and her heart race, and that made her feel guilty, because Jonathan had never instilled that in her. Jon Harper had been one of her best friends growing up, and like had developed into love. But it hadn't been passion. There hadn't been a fire there.

With Vlad, there were sparks from the moment she'd met him.

Careful, a voice in the back of her head warned. Move too fast and you could get burned.

To hell with that. She'd moved slow as sludge with Jon, and look where that had gotten her.

To Vlad, she texted, THANK YOU FOR THE ROSES. THEY'RE BEAUTIFUL. M.

Less than a minute went by before he responded. THEY ARE, BUT YOU FAR SURPASS THEM. V.

FLATTERER. M.

ONLY WHEN NOT THE TRUTH. ARE YOU FREE FRIDAY EVENING? V.

I AM. I HAVE A LATE CLASS BUT SHOULD BE FREE AFTER EIGHT. M.

I CAN MEET YOU ON CAMPUS. V.

She smiled stupidly. She was going to have to call Lucy and spill because she couldn't keep this to herself. Mina replied with where he could meet her.

GOTTA GO. CLASS IN 15. SEE YOU TOMORROW. M.

'TIL THEN. V.

----------

On Friday, she took extra care with her appearance. A pretty knee-length skirt of dark blue, a soft matching blouse, and her better jacket, paired with blue pearl earrings and her best heels, completed her outfit. She spent a good fifteen minutes lamenting about the short cut of her hair. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, hacking it off after Jon's death, but now she wished it was long enough to do something with. Ah, well.

Mina was usually a smart dresser, but her students noticed the extra makeup, and that, combined with the flowers she'd received the day before, they teased her about having a romance. They were largely using it as a chance to stretch their English, since many of them took the class in order to fulfil a secondary language requirement.

Her late class ended just shy of eight o'clock, and Mina had to keep herself from flying out the door ahead of the students, she was that anxious to meet up with Vlad.

"I'm an idiot with a crush," she told herself as she locked her office. "But why not? He's attractive, he's apparently got money, and he likes me. And I'm talking to myself."

She hurried out of the building, which wasn't easy in her heels. The campus was dark, and though there were students still milling about, the area where she was was largely deserted.

As she passed between her building and the next, in what was effectively an alley, someone stepped out of the shadows and grabbed her purse.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "Let go!"

"Give me!" he demanded and tugged harder on the strap.

Her cry of outrage turned into a strangled scream when he pulled out a small pistol.

----------


Vlad Dracula was a self-sufficient man. He'd had to be, first as a prisoner of the Turks, then as voivode of Wallachia. He had led armies, won wars.

Learning to live an immortal existence without Mirena had been the hardest thing he had done in all of his nearly six hundred years. At least he'd been able to watch over his son from a distance, take out threats to the boy, and later man, before they could endanger Ingeras.

But he'd lost Mirena.

Over the years, the heartache had lessened, but it had never quite let go.

And then he'd run into Mina Murray.

She looked so like his Mirena, it stole his breath. She wasn't her, obviously. His wife had been gone centuries. But still, the memory of her remained bright and clear even after all this time. That was part of his curse. He remembered her face, his son's face, just as clearly as if he'd seen them yesterday.

He knew Mina wasn't Mirena. But he ached to be with her because of the reminder. That she herself was a delight was a bonus, and he hoped to get to know her much better.

As he strode across campus, musing on these things, he heard a scream. He'd heard that cry before, the day he'd lost Mirena.

He'd lost his wife. He'd be damned all over again if he lost Mina, too.

Vlad began to run.