The Stirrings of a Cold Heart

London - 1792

The radiant glow of the moonlight cast its light across the streets of London and its denizens of the night. Prostitutes roamed the dark corners plying their trade while drunks staggered down the cobblestone towards their next pub or home to sleep it off. Down one dark alleyway sat a little girl with deep red, wavy locks that hung loose and wild around her shoulders. The dress she wore was brown with an off white apron tied around her waist. It was an old dress, faded, a bit ragged, and a trifle small, but the girl didn't seem to care. Her bright amethyst eyes sparkled with starlight and just a touch of mischief. In her hands she held an old baby blanket that she wrapped around her shoulders, pretending that it was a beautiful velvet cloak. In her imagination she was Queen of the Fae sitting at a fancy dining table sipping tea from a golden cup. She tied strings around her fingers, wrists and neck and imagined they were costly jewels. In her pretend world she was loved by all of her subjects, wise and fair with her royal decrees or was rescued in the nick of time from the mouth of a dragon by a handsome, brave and valiant knight.

This late hour was the only time she could be a child. During the day she worked beside her mother washing clothes for people in order to earn a living. Her shoulders were sore from hauling enough water to fill the wash tub and her hands were dry and cracked with sores from the hot water, starch and lye soap. At first it wasn't so much work, but her mother had taken ill recently and the responsibility had fallen to her. Now the only time she had to play was late at night when everything was done. In her imaginary world there was no work, no sickness and no debts to pay. Each night she snuck out of her window and played quietly in the alley behind it.

Tonight the moon was full and bright in the clear night sky. The little girl had decided to pretend that she was hosting a grand ball with all the nobility. She imagined she wore a gown of fine crimson velvet with a gold crown on her head. She put out her hand as though she were being led out to the middle of the room for a dance and she might have tried to dance too, but her reveries were broken by the sound of a terrified scream. She turned to the direction the cry came from and saw a woman running toward her. The woman's hazel eyes were wide with terror and her face was white as a sheet as she grabbed the child. Her hands were clammy and she was shaking with fear.

" Run into your home girl and lock the doors, before the vampire gets you! " Then as quickly as she appeared the woman ran off into the night. Aidan stood there a moment confused and a bit curious. She wondered if what the woman said was true, were there really vampires in London? Curiosity got the better of her and decided to venture to the end of the alley and see if she could see where the woman had gone. She had only taken one step when another scream pierced the silence. Aidan stood frozen in fear for a moment before summoning her courage and continuing her walk to the end of the alley.

She reached the main street and peered up one cobblestone road then down the other way but found no trace of the woman. She looked across the street at the continuing alley but could see nothing but dark shadows. The gas street lamps were not strong enough to pierce into the inky blackness of the narrow alleys. A shudder went through the child at the sight and she crossed herself.

"God, grant her rest." she whispered. She turned around to go back home and found close behind her a man that seemed impossibly tall next to her diminutive size. Surprised she gasped and fell back against the building, the baby blanket around her shoulders falling to the ground. His hair was dark brown and thick with eyes of blue gray. She could tell that he was someone of wealth by his waist coat of black silk with silver trim and gentleman's boots, but his manner was cold and sinister. Aidan looked into his eyes and could see something sad and long buried beneath his stern countenance.

"You don't look like a vampire." She said rather forwardly

"What?" The man replied rather surprised at her boldness.

"Vampire's should look like corpses, shouldn't they?"

"You know what I am?"

"A woman warned me that there was a vampire." The girl pointed in the direction that the scream had come from. "Are you going to kill me too?" She asked a little hesitantly.

"I'm not going to harm you, child." He answered. Aidan was instantly taken by his voice. It sounded like a soft whisper, yet was loud enough to be heard as though it was a natural speaking voice. "What is your name, little one?"

"Aidan Cathal." She answered.

"Little fire," He said to himself.

"Yes," she answered, puzzled that he knew that. "My mother told me that's what my name means in her native Gaelic. You're not from Ireland, are you?"

"No, I just happen to know a lot of languages from my travels."

"Do you have a name?" She pressed, her childish mind excited by this strange encounter.

"Not exactly." His name was forgotten in the dust of time and he had long since buried any traces of the man he had been in his mortal life. It seemed strange now to hear someone even ask. "Once I had a name, like all men, but now I am simply called ' Le Coeur Noir '." For the first time that he could remember, he felt ashamed saying that title before such an innocent, especially since it had been so well earned. French for 'the black heart', it became his moniker after stories of his cruelty and depravity had lifted him to near mythical status.

"What does it mean?" The child continued, wide-eyed.

"It's not important."

"Are you really old?"

"Aren't you a little young to know anything about such things?"

"My mother has told me Irish stories. One was about a vampire called Leanan-Sidhe. She's beautiful and has the ability to inspire people, but the gift only lasts for a short time because in return she steals their souls and leaves them empty inside or dead before their time. Is she real like you?" She looked up at him, hopeful that the stories were true.

"Leanan-Sidhe is not real. She is only a myth that has been passed on for centuries." His answer disappointed her a little, but did not stave off her childish curiosity.

"Can you really fly and live forever?"

"Yes I can fly and I can live forever. In fact, I have walked this earth for many centuries now.

"Did you know Jesus?" Her eyes were large and hopeful at the idea. In her childhood innocence it never occurred to her that a vampire would not be able to so much as touch the footprints left in the dirt by the Son of God.

"I'm afraid we did not travel in the same circles." A look of disappointment crossed her features again and he decided he must tell her something that would entertain her. "I have had the honor of meeting many kings and queens from all over the world, for instance . . . Catherine De Medici, King Ferdinand of Spain, and Lucrezia Borgia."

"Which queen was the most beautiful?"

"The most beautiful, that is a very difficult question." He knew that what is considered beautiful depended on how one defined it. What made a person physically attractive had changed many times over the centuries. For some people what it was their acts that made them handsome. Though he had seen many women with striking and lovely faces and manners, he could think of one person whose beauty would please this child. "I think the one who was the fairest was not a queen at all. She was the simple wife of a Greek actor in Delphi."

"What did she look like?" Aidan asked, fascinated. "She had hair of spun gold, eyes of bright blue and a soft, gentle smile. She was called Athanasia"

"Athanasia," She whispered. "That's a pretty name for a fairy queen."

"What fairy queen?"

"It's a game I play in the alley behind my house."

"A child your age should be at home asleep, not playing alone in the alleys of London at this hour."

"I have to be able to hold court or else I can't rule my kingdom properly." She responded matter-of-factly. "I like to pretend that I am a powerful queen. I host great balls and have many handsome suitors. I wear gowns of silver and gold velvet with all my fancy jewels." She proudly showed him the strings she wore as her jewelry. "Thread, string and twine are plentiful around the house so I use it to pretend with. Every good queen should have a few pieces of jewelry. I also like to pretend that I have lots of knights who protect me from danger. Would you like to be a knight?"

"You would make me a knight?" For the first time since she met him he gave a half smile at her.

"Of course I would, you wouldn't hurt me." She smiled back at him. "Please kneel." He got down on one knee just as she asked then bowed his head. With her hand she tapped his right shoulder then his left. "I dub thee, Knight of the Realm and protector of my kingdom. You may rise." As he rose, he noticed her yawning hard.

"Would you allow your knight to walk you home?" He asked, extending his hand. She knew it was time, but she hated for this to come to an end.

"Do I have to go home?" She asked.

"Yes."

She took his hand and led him down the alley to her small home. As they walked, he noticed burns, some with blisters, all over her small fingers, no doubt from ironing. The window was still open and gripping the wooden frame with his right hand, the vampire stuck his head through and looked about. He saw a few sticks of furniture, no toys, stacks of laundry and an empty trundle bed next to a larger bed. There among the blankets he could see the prone form of a woman sleeping. She was sweating from high fever and her graying red hair was damp. Her face was pale with dark circles under the eyes. The vampire already knew what was to happen soon. He had spent enough time around the sick and dying to recognize its look and scent. She wasn't gone yet, but he knew the time was close at hand. In spite of his cold heart he felt sorry for the little girl. She would find herself in a workhouse trying to pay off her mother's debts. If she was lucky then when she grew up she would marry a man who was poor or become a laundress like her mother, perhaps both.

Unthinkingly his hand slid along the worn window frame causing his thumb to accidentally be pierced by an errant nail that stuck out. Such a wound would heal quickly enough and he scarcely even noticed it as he turned away from the ramshackle room and its air of impending death. Gently he brushed aside a few stray red curls from the child's forehead causing his own blood to mark her pale skin. For a brief moment he heard the beat of her heart and the girls grumbling thoughts regarding bedtime before the mark vanished like magic into her skin and the night returned to its natural ambient sounds. Instantly he realized that he had imprinted on the child and silently chided himself for his blunder. Perhaps it wasn't as problematic as he thought. Yes they were connected, but she was human so the cord between them was tenuous at best and nothing that should trouble him.

"Child, listen to me." He said, looking down into her innocent face. "Spend what time you have with your mother. Talk to her, care for her and love her even if she doesn't respond. Time is very fleeting and you shouldn't waste it." He could see that she understood what he was trying to say. "Take this as a tribute from your loyal knight." From his pocket he took out a silver pocket watch with an oyster shell cameo depicting Persephone holding her pomegranate. He then looked deep into her eyes and made her forget their meeting. Silently he watched as she climbed through the window and went to her mother. He saw her dampen a cloth in a bowl of water and dab her mother's forehead. The vampire turned to leave, but stopped when he heard something. It was Aidan singing an old lullaby to her mother. For someone her age that had no training it was truly a wonder.

He walked back to the end of the alley where he had first seen her. She knew what he was and what he could do, but she was never afraid of him and he marveled at that. Anyone else would have wisely run, but she took his hand and knighted him. There was something about her he didn't understand, and he wondered if he would ever see her again. On the ground he saw the baby blanket she had been wearing as a shawl and picked it up. There was something he could do to help her. He knew a woman who could take her in and teach her. He folded the blanket and put it in his pocket. Well, knights always carry a ladies favor , he thought to himself.