Spring Rituals

“Ethan, do you wish to dance?” lisped Brit. Shaking his head, Ethan pulled his wife closer to him and watched the spring festival from the corner of the platform. He had been quiet since he had risen. Brit had been looking forward to the day since Ethan’s seamstress, Destany Laval, had brought the lacy pink gown to the city. Ethan’s fingers traced the lacy patterns idly as he held her. Noticing that the other revelers wore clothing that was much different, Brit asked, “Do you not like my dress?”

It was true that Ethan had not commissioned the dress and the crafty seamstress knew she would sell it the moment Brit saw the pink confection made of cloth. With a hint of a grin, Ethan said, “You are lovely.” His finger caressed Brit’s cheek and he touched her chin as he examined her fuchsia-painted lips. Kissing her forehead, he said, “Do not worry so, Brit. I am simply wrapped in thoughts.”

Nodding to him, Brit snuggled against him silently much like she had the previous night. Ethan had not wished to go out. His arms wrapped around her and they watched out of the window. She saw people coming and going. Nikita popped into the Shelter where she had been practically running it and discussed a few business matters with Ethan. Nikita left seemingly annoyed after Ethan praised her clothing choice, but neglected to stay focused on business. Whether Nikita was concerned about business matters, rumors at hand, or Ethan’s continued lack of assistance, it was hard to say.

Ethan murmured that he was not annoyed with Nikita as he shifted to pull her against him again. Brit pursed her lips realizing he was linked to her thoughts and she had not realized it. She thought of Destany again, and he immediately stated that Destany was a crafty girl but she too was not the object of Ethan’s concern. Peeking up at him, her head rested on his shoulder as she tried to see within his thoughts. Ethan grinned again briefly and whispered “Behave” which caused Brit to giggle.

Settling against him, she returned to watching the people at the festival. Her thoughts drifted again to the night before. After Nikita left, Ethan walked Brit to the diner. With it being the third Thursday of Lent, Annika served Brit a large bowl of artichoke stew, a twist on a recipe that had been quite popular in Constantinople during strict fasts through Lent. “No meats, meat products, fish, or oils are allowed during strict fasts, Brit.” Brit poked at the thick sliced carrots floating among the artichoke and green as she suggested baked French fries. Waving off the suggestion, Ethan said, “This is more nourishing.”

Leaving the diner, they had walked by the library and saw Denny and Picket within. Brit started up the steps but Ethan pulled her back saying that it looked like a serious conversation and that he wished to return to the Shelter. Rumors had been circulating the streets, and Ethan continued to pick up bits and pieces of conversation. People’s emotions were running high. Experience told him that it was not a night to linger outside when Brit was with him.

After returning to the Shelter, Ethan snuggled Brit against him watching the street from the upstairs window yet again. The streets were oddly empty, but Ethan watched. In the strange quiet, they watched as Omega passed looking lost in her own thoughts. Brit looked to Ethan questioning, and he gave her a comforting hug after kissing her forehead. Grr followed Omega just a few feet back. Grr looked concerned, but was obviously there to protect his lady.

Ethan did not breathe, of course, but he seemed to sigh softly and pulled Brit into their resting place even though the night still had hours left before dawn. Once inside, he lit candles and pulled Brit to settle back against him brushing his lips over her hair still lost in his quiet contemplation. When the sun set, they rested with Brit cuddled against him.

The following evening, Brit had managed to wriggle free of Ethan’s embrace and had gone to shower. He was awake when she returned and she started to immediately chatter about the spring festival. Spring Festivals. How many had Ethan seen? Over the years, he saw many rituals and traditions and, while he painted the cosmetics carefully on her face, he told her of some of the more pleasant traditions.

Ethan brushed Brit’s hair as he recanted the story of the golden bull that is said to wake in the springtime. He told her of several goddesses who were associated with springtime, and recanted some stories for each. Goddesses such as Ostara, who was escorted by a rabbit and Hertha who was associated with rebirth and healing. “There was even a Celtic tradition for St. Bridget,” said Ethan. He smiled seeing her look of surprise, “A person would knock three times loudly and say ‘Bridget, Bridget, Bridget! Come to my house…come to my house tonight. Open the door for Bridget and let Bridget come in.’ Then the door would open and a fruit tree would be brought inside. And for the evening, the fruit tree would be treated with reverence and, on the next morning which was called ‘Bridget’s Fire’, the family would plant the tree.”

Brit giggled, “You made that up!”

Ethan gasped feigning insult. “I most certainly did not.” He gave her hair a playful tug and said, “Just for your insolence, you can wear your hair down tonight!”

Still giggling, Brit lisped, “You like my hair down best anyway.” He grinned and stood pulling her to her feet to help her dress for the festival that she was excited to attend. His smile faded as quick as it had come and he became somber again.

Brit looked up at Ethan sighing softly, “I wish to dance….maybe….” He pressed a finger to her lips and swayed with her. It was not a proper dance, but at least they were moving. Some of those at the festival repeated some of the behaviors of times gone by. The dancers grew freer with their dancing as the night wore on and the alcohol continued to pour. It was after an hour of quiet swaying, Brit glimpsed a dark thought from her husband.

His eyes darted to hers knowing she glimpsed his mood. Clinching his jaw, he looked at the sky, the party-goers, and then to his wife. “Tonight,” he said in a low voice, “Tonight.” Ethan voice sounded strained as he pulled her more tightly, “Tonight the day equals the night and the pendulum swings. And, days will be longer at this point on until fall. And I will have less time to enjoy my wife.”

Brit felt his unhappiness. “Ethan…”

Ethan shook his head unhappily and said, “Perhaps, like other creatures, we should change with the seasons. Go to where the night is favored.” Brit did not respond not quite knowing what to say. Ethan continued to muse, “Perhaps…I will have to explore why others are able to stay awake longer here.” Ethan turned her toward him and said, “I do not plan to be robbed of time with you. Not for a second summer, Brit.” Kissing her deeply, he felt her arms go around his neck and return the kiss in kind. Without another word, they returned to their resting place.

Once there, he dragged his fingers as if they were rose petals across her bare skin before drinking from her in soft, lingering sips.

Unanticipated Events

Brit sat with the dictionary while slowly flipping the pages. “Unexpected,” she lisped. “Unexpected means not anticipated; as in unexpected guests or unexpected news.” After reading over the words several times, she closed the book. The Shelter was filled with guests. A small group was frantically searching for a paper they had left on the table. Brit asked, “What is it?” After much shuffling, they told her that it was simply a chart. As words slowly formed, Brit realized it was the table she had given to Apollo. The group grew silent when she told them that she had given it to him since his name was on it. After a moment of silence, the group quickly said good-byes and scattered before Apollo happened by.

Brit wondered where Ethan had gone because he was not there when she woke. After a shower, she dressed and walked to the foyer of the Shelter. Some residents arrived and left, each greeting her. Outside, Lord Winter and Winterkitty, the snow creatures she and others had made, had been toppled, trampled, and might have been shot. “Not unexpected,” she lisped and noticed that the snow still was mostly intact. If she wanted, she thought, she could make them again without much trouble.

While making the snow creatures, many had helped. It started with Apollo, and then Lorne and Beau had joined. They were discussing a poem of a king who had died. Whether he was once great or whether he merely thought he was, in the end, the king was simply dust commanding sand. In the middle of the discussion, Brianna had fallen to the ground with bloody hands. “Unexpected,” lisped Brit softly as she applied her new words. Others had come and gone: Quiet, someone she did not know named Mei, a young vampire who seemed not to know she was a vampire, Jason, and several others. Then Ethan had come, but he did not help her make snow creatures. She giggled thinking of him and lisped, “Not unexpected.” While most playful, Ethan rarely engaged in group silliness.

During the day, she had seen many in passing. Some, such as Nerissa, she used to see often. Others, such as Redd and Tonks, she had just met. Brit mused on why she passed by Nerissa and had spent much time talking to the new library helpers. She had also seen Denny and Omega where Omega was playing music. Spinning, she thought it was called, but they had not stopped to visit with them. Was it expected or unexpected not to linger as one used to with old friends or was that something reserved for new ones.

Picking up her mug of cocoa, she tapped her nails on it while lost in thought. She sometimes missed the days of talking with those whom have been so close to her. “Denny, Omega, Grr, Joah, Larissa.” So many she thought. “Poncho. Merma. Tony. Ellie. Mel.” She took more than an hour saying each name slowly less she forget anyone. “Stacy. Jon. Choi.” Some she saw often and some she rarely saw these days. “Pieter. Blueray. Nikita.” The names she said went on and on. Was it expected or unexpected for so many to come and go as if weaving through one’s life?

Pars’s disappearance on the docks that day was unexpected, she thought. Pars had watched over her from birth. He had always been near. Before he disappeared, she had never been alone. Taking another sip of her cocoa, she realized that she had become accustom to people leaving. Each walked in to her life and stayed a while before leaving as quietly as Pars had disappeared from the docks. Such occurrences had become expected to many, but never to Brit.

Nikita’s reappearance was not a surprise to Brit. When Ethan greeted her, Brit had felt her presence. Calm and familiar. Ethan simply told Nikita that she had been missed. Nodding, Brit agreed and had asked, “Where did you go?” Nikita replied with a single word: Scotland. Looking to Ethan, Brit felt that the response must have been expected. Regardless, it was good to have her home.

Brit turned on the radio and listened to Omega’s voice over the airwaves. She could picture Denny standing near his love. Another sip of cocoa and she smiled as Omega dedicated “Come What May” to her and Ethan. Brit nibbled dunked marshmallows as she listened and thought it was sweet of Omega to have played it. Omega’s voice and Denny near her was expected. The song was not and Brit found that an unexpected pleasure.

Thinking more on Denny, Brit sighed softly. In the week before, he had paid an unexpected visit to the Shelter. While there, he acted oddly and said some horrible things to Ethan. In the end, he said to Ethan that their marriage was cursed and that they would be divorced. Later, Ethan had assured her that too much drink lead to such words. Drunk or no, Ethan had told Denny he was no longer welcome in the Shelter; and Denny had not been in the library when Brit was there. She missed him, but he had unexpectedly been scarcely near for months.

Looking up, Brit watched more people come in. One sat for soup and Brit tried to remember whether the person had registered at the Shelter. When she started to inquire, the lady left making Brit realize she had just slipped in for the soup. Shrugging, Brit felt good that the woman had something to warm her belly on such a frigid day. Brit waved at the little demon that she and Ethan had found freezing in the street before her thoughts returned to wondering where Ethan had gone. Stifling a yawn, she thought of the unexpected turmoil during the day while they slept.

It could not have been more than 30 minutes past dawn. Brit was wound around Ethan who lay dormant beneath her. Her eyes opened to the sound of growling. Low and menacing. Raising her head, she blinked through the darkness of the room, but sensed no one was near. “Ethan,” she lisped. Giving him a shake, she repeated, “Ethan?” She really did not expect him to respond without more effort on her part. Thinking that perhaps it was a dream, she settled again on top of him and started to sleep again. Her eyes had closed for sleep and she heard it again.

Lifting her head once more, she rubbed her eyes to try to wake so that she could focus. Again, the growling was heard. Louder. Her eyes widened and she wriggled free of Ethan to find a window. Listening at the door, she could tell that again, none were near. Brit’s feet pattered softly on the cold floor as she opened the door to go to the windows of the hallway. Looking down, she saw her undisturbed snow creatures standing guard. More growling and an angry male voice could be heard. Leaning toward the glass, Brit saw a neko male and a human lady standing at the door. A huge lycan was growling.

Brit tapped on the glass, but no one heard her. It was then that she saw the lycan lunge at the male crashing him backwards. Brit ran down stairs to the front door opening it. No one seemed to notice her. Turning she shouted, “Turmoil!” No sound answered and she turned back to the door. The male neko was obviously shaken, and Brit understood the lycan when he told the neko boy that he was to perish. Brit regrouped and lisped, “You can easily kill him….but….I would be grateful…and would tell Wotan so….if you allowed him to live.” The lycan seemed surprised by her request.

Reflecting on the lycan’s reaction of pausing, Brit realized her actions were not expected. The lycan, she guessed, probably knew he could think on what happened and knew he could kill the kitty boy another time if he chose to do it. Brit puffed her cheeks and hoped he would just forget about the kitty. The lycan left and so Brit took the couple inside. She paused seeing Lorne at the door. He seemed to ensure all was well, and then left. Looking above him, she wondered momentarily whether Brianna was tottering from the rooftop again.

Once inside, the kitty boy seemed angry. Just as Brit knew she was not like others, he knew that the lycan could have easily killed him. The way he looked at the lady, Brit knew that she was the kitty’s beloved. Tilting her head, Brit knew that he was also wondering who would care for his lady should he perish. Both the kitty and human girl were cold, and Brit found them jackets from the Shelter’s lost and found. Watching them calm, Brit felt herself relax even as she could hear the howling in the distance as the lycan told its story to the others in the wee hours of morning. Brit felt tired, but ensured that the couple had food and knew where they could rest. Walking to the door of the Shelter again, Brit saw another resident return home and then she returned to the resting place.

Finishing her cocoa, she sighed softly. A most unexpected turn of events. “You left our resting place?” came Ethan’s soft voice as he brushed snow from his shoulders. She was pleased to see him. Rising, she kissed his lips before hugging warmly. Ethan returned a trio of kisses and looked her over as he always did upon greeting. His ability to see within her mind was not unexpected. It felt warm and she welcomed when it occurred. Her ability to hear his thoughts that followed, however, was new. It was unexpected. The growl from within him, however, was expected. Another kiss was obviously needed and she could feel his eyes follow her as she rinsed her cup. “Baby,” he said softly.

Brit could hear his thoughts that formed, and so she hugged him and kissed him again lingeringly. “I cannot allow someone to perish at our door without saying something, Ethan…” Her eyes met his and he could hear her thoughts explain that he would not allow such happenings either. Blinking, Ethan was unsure whether it was her nature or his blood that prompted some of her actions. Kissing her forehead, he wrapped her close to him and rocked both of them in a warm embrace while he pondered the events that he had seen within her mind.

Narcotic

The moment Ethan’s eyelids parted, he searched for Brit in the darkness. His vision quickly became flawless again and he hinted a smile finding her nestled by his side. Inching closer to close the gap the daytime sleep had put between them, he laid his right arm on her upper arm gently brushing back the strands of hair that veiled her doll-like face. He studied her to ensure that all was as it was prior to their rest. Satisfied, Ethan beamed for a moment while touching her face. His thoughts were clear: “Nobody can take better care of you than me. Nobody.” Withdrawing his hand, he touched her chest feeling her breathe evenly in her sleep. Her chest rose and fell evenly as she slept as he lay there unblinking and marveling at he wonder of His creation that he was blessed with.

Two weeks ago, Ethan had taken Brit to the church and watched as she performed her nightly prayers. Many were milling about the streets. He could feel the question before she asked it. “Ethan,” she lisped softly. “Our door is locked lately. It did not use to be so,” she said.

His footsteps sounded firm on the street as he escorted her home. They passed someone who frequented the church steps but rarely entered. “Yes, baby,” Ethan replied. “I thought it prudent to lock the door so no one could enter our resting place while we sleep.” Glancing down, he nodded once and kept a firm hold on her hand. “I do want to keep you safe, of course. And comforted,” he added in a lower voice.

Brit needed to run to keep up with him. She countered, “But…Ethan.” He seemed to be speeding up. She ran along beside him and continued, “It was locked to others before and not to me. But now. Now, it is locked to me.” Ethan was almost to the steps and she ran again to catch him. Clasping his arm, she whined, “I cannot go get cookies!”

At her words, he turned abruptly and looked at her intently holding up a single finger to her lips. “There is nothing that you need that I cannot provide, Brit. Nothing.” His jaw clenched slightly, “Anything you can get while away from me, you can get the same or better with me.” Ethan’s voice dropped to a whisper as he caressed her cheek, “There is no need for you to be away from me.” Turning, he walked toward the steps again to their resting place. Opening the door, he let her walk in ahead of him. Following, he said softly, “And I want you close. So close. Everything else is secondary.” The door closed and did not re-open again for her.

So you face it with a smile

There is no need to cry

For a trifle's more than this

After two weeks, Ethan was far from running out of stories. On the contrary, he found that he loved reminiscing and knew that Brit was interested in from where he had come. Ethan enjoyed Arles in 1888. The artist community that thrived during that year brought enlightened, lively conversation among witty, clever, and talented people who wore bright colors. Ethan smudged the deep blue kohl around Brit’s mossy green eyes and stood back appraising his work. “Van Gogh,” he told her, “used to drink absinthe in the Hôtel Restaurant Carrel in the Rue de la Cavaleirie when he was not crying over some love lost to a prostitute.” He went on to describe how odd it felt to him to view the old Roman Arena and remember when such were used, or to touch the medieval gate and remember it new.

Brit loved when Ethan talked of times gone by. She could not imagine her husband frequenting parties of artists and writers. Similarly, she could not imagine Ethan in many times of his life. Among the more perplexing were his descriptions of the fall of Constantinople and the Crusades. Also confusing was his role in seeking those who acted against God: The power of the demonic influences was lost on her. Brit loved his descriptions of when he first heard a truly modern pipe organ or saw a man-made object fly.

Ethan noticed that Brit seemed more focused on the changes of culture and inventions than politics and war. Getting a bit of midnight blue to darken her outer eye corners, Ethan dabbed carefully noticing the enhancement to the whites of her eyes. So perfect, but fragile, he thought. Brit was such a precious gift, but her fragility caused Ethan more concern with each passing day. As his brush stroked on color, Brit looked up at him and he paused as if caught in a spell. The brush slowed. She was his to love and to protect. Brit was his wife, he thought. Ethan’s lips parted and he blinked feeling God would wish what he was thinking. The brush touched her eyes gently and Ethan knew that Brit would never age another day; and God would approve else he would never have brought her to him.

Will you still recall my name

And the month it all began

Will you release me with a kiss

To be sure, there was much to consider. He finished painting her face and turned it left and right slowly. Perfection was important when one was meant to never change again. Ethan’s fingers ran through her hair and he examined the ends to ensure they were perfectly trimmed. Moving her hair to behind her shoulders, his fingers ran over her neck. To heal the bite mark or not? In turning her, their reason for being was no longer important, but his vanity admitted to enjoying them on her throat. Unable to resist, he bent his head to feel them with his lips. His fangs lengthened and he could feel her pulse throb beneath her skin. No more sicknesses, Ethan thought. No more worries, he reassured himself feeling his fangs rub her bites.

Brit’s head tilted at the touch of his fangs. One hand went behind her head and another gathered around her and pulled her securely against him. Breaking the skin, the small crimson drops welled and he tasted her sweetness. How would her blood change, he wondered? His fangs teased open her bite marks allowing the blood to trickle into his mouth. Sweet, like candy. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the flavor and closeness. He had all night. No need to hurry, he said to himself. Brit’s arms went around him and her fingernails caressed his back. Fingernails, he remembered. Healing the wounds, he pulled away to examine them. Smiling up at her, he leaned and carefully licked the wounds healing her bite marks completely.

Have I tried to draw the veil

If I have - how could I fail?

Did I fear the consequence

... dazed by careless words

Cozy in my mind

Using the cosmetic file, Ethan ensured that her fingers and toes matched and were filed to pristine perfection. Beauticians, he mused, should be the most learned theologians as they had so much time to muse. As he filed, he thought of changes she would have to learn. Feeding. His chylder learned quickly enough, he thought, which was good as she had become such a wanderer. What if the same happened to Brit? Could she survive and feed? To be sure, she had no issue drinking from him but who was to say she could partake blood from others. His eyes flashed crimson at the thought, but he had to come to terms with the concept that drinking from other sources may mean survival.

Also, if he had to leave town for a while, who could care for her? She would be a fledgling. A chylder as well as his wife. So loved. Would an enemy target her? Ethan was not so naïve to not know that answer. Plus, in his world, he really should ensure there was approval to insure she would be protected without him. At one time, Nikita could have been a reliable back-up, but she had not been seen in months. Pieter would tend to Brit, if needed, but Ethan was unsure he wanted to risk the exposure to what Brit would see in the Pit. As for Omega, there was also risk of unwanted exposure. Ethan took a deep breath and let his mind refocus. Perhaps turning her was not the best plan. Yet.

Chorus: I don't mind

I think so

I will let you go

Now you shaped that liquid wax

Fit it out with crater cracks

Sweet devotion- my delight

As the pendulum swung the other way, Ethan pulled her to him again. He loved to drink from her and had grown to anticipate the taste of her blood. Metallic after she ate mushrooms. Salty after seafood. Sweet after cookies and such. But it was more refined than the obvious. Her moods and biological responses also flavored her blood. Again, he wondered whether Brit’s blood would change so if she were like him. Ethan’s mind wondered as he kissed her hand again before gathering her hair and starting to brush it. He made a mental note to order strawberries coated in a rich layer of pure dark chocolate.

Another kiss of her hand, Ethan slid a white chemise over her head and remembered his earlier thought: Brit would not age another day. There were two ways to achieve such things. Perching on the side of the desk, he rolled up his sleeve. Brit watched how his hair framed his face. Seeing her glance, Ethan gave a playful wink and brought his wrist to his mouth breaking the skin. Shifting, he pulled her to where she sat between his legs and held his wrist to her mouth. “Drink.” Her mouth felt warm against his wrist as she drank from him. He felt her body respond to his blood down to the strengthened heartbeat. Pulling her head back to the edge of his shoulder, he watched the pulse under her skin and felt her drink wondering whether she found his taste as intoxicating as he found hers.

Oh, you're such a pretty one

And the naked thrills of flesh and skin

Would tease me through the night

Ethan kept his wrist to her mouth. He knew she did not require so much, but wanted to share of himself with his wife. Brit was his wife. His eyes darkened at the recent interference of so many friends. Deep within, Ethan knew Brit’s friends meant well. Those such as Joah. Kissing Brit’s temple, he noticed that she had stopped drinking. How dare Joah tell him that he was wrong in his choices regarding his wife! Ethan licked his wounds and continued to think. If Joah were not bad enough, Omega also started to question his choices regarding Brit. Flexing his wrist, he struggled to keep his talons in check. Rage welled up within and, with a sudden animalistic growl, he quickly transitioned Brit to laying back on the desk and hovered his fangs over her throat. Again the thought to change her. Make her more like him. Give her a life-long connection.

Ethan’s body trembled causing Brit to look over to him in confusion. She could not see his face or his red-glowing eyes. He longed to drink deep of her. To feel her crumple and revive her while he held her. His. She would be completely his then. His fingers shook as he drew her near and scratched her throat with the sharp tips. He could hear her heart dare him to drink. The angry energy of being questioned caused him to growl as he quickly pushed her to the desk. Brit’s look of surprise gave him a brief pause. Rather than seeming alarmed, she relaxed back looking up to him and her sense of calm soothed him. Rather than finding brick to destroy, his talons stroked down her body ripping and moving the fabric aside. A slight screech of metal on glass could be heard as he leaned over her and kissed her tummy. Soft caresses yielded a tranquil feeling as he sought, selected and sank his fangs into her skin and drank.

"Now i hate to leave you bare

If you need me I'll be there

Don't you ever let me down"

..dazed by careless words

Cozy in my mind

He felt her body respond and enjoyed the way the taste of her blood changed as he drank. It was a struggle to drink slowly. It was a greater struggle to stop. Ethan’s talons retracted and his eyes became normal again but still he drank miniscule sips. Each sip, he knew he would care for God’s creation. With each caress, he knew he would protect his wife. Brit’s fingers entwined in his hair as she felt her fingers and toes grow colder. Still he drank until her heartbeat quickened. Even then, he kept his fangs embedded in her without pulling more blood.

Brit’s breathing was the only sound in the room. Ethan removed his fangs once he felt himself again. Music played close by. He knew that she would never let him down, but he also knew that she would never be parted from him. Ethan’s body ground against Brit’s as he kissed her lips. Giving her a soft caress, he bit her neck again returning her bite marks.

Chorus: : I don't mind

I think so

I will let you go

No, Ethan thought. He would never let her go. Picking her up, he laid her back on the coverlet of their resting place. It had been two weeks, but Ethan had no desire to leave the room. He had all that he needed in the room and could requisition anything Brit needed to be delivered.

And I touched your face

Narcotic mind from lazed Mary-Jane

Brit felt Ethan's fingers again on her face. He had arranged for Annika to bring her food, but she was content subsisting on his vitae. “You will eat properly tomorrow, Brit,” Ethan whispered. Not tonight, he thought.

And I called your name

Like an addicted to cocaine calls for the stuff he'd rather blame

It had been two weeks. And Ethan noticed that Brit did not seem to care whether they stayed in. He wondered if she could endure watching a sunrise on a DVD one frame at a time.

And I touched your face

Narcotic mind from lazed Mary-Jane

If someone had asked, Brit would have been surprised how much time had passed. Cold, tired, and content is all she felt and so she rested.

And I called your name

My cocaine

While she rested, Ethan thought again of those who meant so well and knew that none could care for his wife as he could.

Chorus: : I don't mind

I think so

I will let you go

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jsj-37UrxeM

A Handful of Pebbles

((Taken from RP))

Sitting by the water, Ethan picked up a handful of pebbles offering half to Brit along with a sweet kiss. He settled her back against him listening to her babble about the Shelter while he had gone to rest. “The kitty brother and sister are sweet. Though, they were so frightened of Gwyn last night and still asked if I needed protection.”

Cocking a brow, Ethan asked, “What do you mean frightened of Gwyn? Did anything happen that made Gwyn look like a threat to you?” His next pebble flew quite a distance before hitting water indicating that his mood hand ceased to be relaxed. “You do mean Gwyn from the Coven, correct?”

Brit nodded and started to explain. “Last night, Merma, Poncho and Gwyn were having milk and cookies. And suddenly Gwyn seemed sad.” She mused for a moment and added, “She was sad after seeing a picture of Nikita and Pieter. Then…the kitties came…and Poncho and Merma left…and Gwyn went outside.” Brit stopped often trying to get the events exactly right. Ethan stroked her arm and listened patiently. Nodding, she continued, “Gwyn conjured a storm I think…and the kitties were scared. Mya and Son. I think it was just Gwyn having a hissy fit over the picture, but I do not know why.”

Blinking, Ethan recreated the scene in his mind. “But she has never seemed to act vengeful toward you. She just seemed to grow angry or upset about that picture?” Brit nodded and Ethan said, “Most curious.” Ethan looked to the toxic water for a while and seemed to relax. “Okay, Brit. I will not need to speak with her then. I do hope you were not upset that the kitties grew frightened.”

“Kitties seem to scare easily,” Brit lisped. She dropped a pebble watching the rings spread from where it dropped in to the water. “Ethan, I think something happened to Gwyn. And I think she is a little like Nikita in her magic.” Snuggling against him, she said, “I am out of cookies. And the rain spotted my nightgown.”

Ethan started to respond about the kitties, Gwyn, and Nikita’s magic. He blinked yet again and threw another pebble further than normal. Looking puzzled, Ethan asked, “Why would your nightgown get rain spots on it? Did it rain in our resting place?”

Brit explained that the rain was blowing through the door of the shelter and Ethan remembered seeing the splatters on her white slippers. He blinked again as he dropped more pebbles and pulled her closer protectively. “You were outside of our resting place in your nightgown? Downstairs…at the entrance, even?” She nodded and he felt his jaw muscle flex slightly before kissing her forehead. His voice was calm when he continued, “Baby, I do not think it is proper for a lady to be up and about in her nightgown. Nightgowns are reserved for our resting place and for the viewing pleasure of your husband alone.”

Brit dropped a few pebbles into the water as she thought of what he had said. “But….Ethan, my nightgown covers me like a blanket almost.” She mused about the length and continued, “It has more layers than my dresses and covers my legs and wrists.” She did not understand the differences. “Merma liked the bows you put in my hair.”

Ethan nodded, but clarified, “Brit, I know that it covers more, but it is a nightgown. It is not intended by its maker to be worn in public or on streets. By using it differently than its true purpose, its role as an item was not respected.” He took a few of her pebbles back and dropped them in the water silently. After a moment of silence, he said, “And I do not want you in nightgowns in the midst of others. It is not about how revealing or not it is.”

Brit puffed her cheeks and cuddled against him. Her voice was a soft whine, “But what if I want some cookies after you rest?” She tossed a pebble in the water after his and watched the ring. Finally, she asked, “What is its purpose?”

Ethan replied calmly, “The nightgown is to wrap my love up in a package that I would consider attractive to unwrap her from. So, if you get hungry or thirsty at night just make your way to the kitchen quickly. And return quickly. But do try to remain undetected.” Peeking down to her, he grinned picturing her tiptoeing in her white slippers.

Stammering, Brit asked, “In my nightgown?” More pebbles dropped in the water. She mentally made her plan to raid the refrigerator. She would move down the hall quickly and continue down the steps. Once there, she planned to grab the milk and cookies and run back.

Nodding normally, Ethan gestured, “In your nightgown, perhaps throw a little jacket or something over your shoulders. Just so you do not catch a cold in the middle of the night.” He pressed her body against his side and kissed her cheek. “Just like a good girl,” he said low. “My good girl,” he clarified.

Brit repeated back to him, “So, I wear my nightgown but hide from people. And wear a jacket over it if I go get anything when wearing it?”

Ethan replied, “Well, not quite hiding, but just remember that it is something you should not wear when you know that you will most likely encounter someone.” Watching his wife, he paused searching for an example, “Brit, the nightgown is pretty, but I would not have you wear it when we go out to dinner with my friends in Vienna, for example. As I said, it is for my personal viewing pleasure. Just as I am the only one who is allowed to peel it from you skin.”

Turning to him, she giggled as she pressed her palms against the ground to kiss him. She rubbed her nose against his and said, “You are the only one who can take my clothes off.” Kissing lightly, she added, “I remember..” With a bit of processing, she mused, “Nightgowns are a little bit like underwears and not for anyone but you to see.”

Nodding several times, Ethan gave Brit a soft kiss on the lips whispering, “Exactly.” His palm ran down her cheek to her neckline and a bit lower to the side of her body. “I am glad that you understand now.” Picking up another pebble, he dropped it in the water near to them. She dropped one beside it. They watched the circles entwined as they spread until the circles reached the shore.

The Wedding

((Taken from Rp))

After escorting her into the church, Ethan and Brit lit a candle at the door together. Brit’s shaking hand was steadied with his. She focused intently on lighting the candle while Ethan stole quick looks at her. Many had come to join them and both wondered how so many knew so quickly. Hild, Gweneth, Omega, Nikita, Larissa, Lorne, Pieter, Kishi, Kytara, Merma, Poncho, Katinka, Nicholette, Sinco, Carlos, Arcann, Komali, Xelion, Pix, Tony, Spirit, Kaya, Tanika, Choi, and Jon were there to bear witness. Brit clasped Ethan’s arm tighter not use to having so many watch her and she struggled against the distraction of so many near. Even so, she wished Ellie, Vlad, and Denny could have been there.

Ethan walked down the aisle with Brit on his arm. Continuing to steal glances at her, he whispered, “You are stunning.” It never occurred to Brit how many set aside their differences to be there for their wedding. She smiled to their friends as she passed them as she walked to the front of the church where Stacy stood. Ethan gave Stacy two rings, which she held in her right hand and said, “It is the right hand of God that blesses, to the right that Christ ascended, and to the right that those who inherit life eternal will ascend. Blessed are these metal symbols, given by me unto you to prove among any observers true faith, concord, love, and that in marriage the weakness of one will be compensated by the strength of the other. There is perfection within a union of imperfections.” Brit’s hand tightened on Ethan’s as she listened.

Stacy’s right hand seemed to gleam brightly as she prayed, “Welcome these witnesses forgiving them of their transgression this day of blessed unity. Two souls bonded in unwavering union protected here until come judgment. Amen.” Ethan took Brit’s hand entwining her fingers and gave her a comforting squeeze. Stacy continued, “Welcome witnesses. Ye are truly blessed to witness a holy union granted in the gift of free will. God’s gift to mankind.” Stacy pulled from her pocket a small coloring book and opened it to take a small piece of paper. Looking from the paper to the audience, she said, “This book given as a gift to me possesses an excerpt from which I will read. This excerpt will have special meaning unto these two as they take their steps into union.”

Brit listened carefully to each word along with Ethan. Reading from the book, Stacy’s voice filled the church. “’What is Real?’ asked the Rabbit one day, when lying side by side near the nursery fender before Nana came to tidy the room. ‘Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?’ ‘Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It is a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long long time, not just to play with but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.’ ‘Does it hurt?’ asked the Rabbit. ‘Sometimes,’ said the Skin Horse for he was always truthful. ‘When you are real, you don’t mind being hurt. It doesn’t happen all at once. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get all loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.’” Outside, gunfire blazed, but neither Ethan or Brit heard anything except for the unusual reading from the Velveteen Rabbit.

Stacy placed the tattered book and the paper back into her pocket. Looking from Ethan to Brit, she smiled before looking up at the audience. “Dearly beloved. We are gathered here in the sight of God to join together this Man and this Woman in Holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate instituted by God in Paradise, and into which holy estate these two person present come now to be joined. Therefore if any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together by God’s Law, or the Laws of the Realm, let him speak now, or else hereafter forever hold their piece.” The crowd grew quieter as eyes shifted about. One scratched her ear while another narrowed his eyes. Merma chuckled thinking that someone would have to be suicidal to object.

Ethan took Brit’s hands in his and looked directly to her. He mouthed, “You are beautiful” causing her to beam up at him. Stacy refocused on the couple, “I require and charge you both as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed that if either of you know any impediment why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, that ye confess it. For ye be well assured that so many as be coupled together otherwise than God’s word doth allow are not joined together by God; neither is their Matrimony lawful.” Both Ethan and Brit smiled at each other and then to Stacy feeling completely at peace with what they are doing.

Stacy smiled at the couple, then asked, “Ethan, wilt thou have this Woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour and keep her in sickness and in health; and forsake all others, keep thee only unto her until judgment and divine wrath cometh upon this Earth?” Looking directly into Brit’s eyes, he responded to Stacy with a simple and meaningful “I do” as another smile hinted on his lips. Pausing, Stacy asked Brit, “Ms. Brit, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him until judgment and wrath up this Earth cometh?” Processing each word, she smiled up to Ethan and lisped, “I will” as she gave his hands a tight squeeze.

Stacy directed Ethan take Brit’s hand and repeat after her. His voice was clear as he said, “I Ethan take thee, Brit, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse. For richer or for poorer, for fairer or fouler, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until judgment cometh, according to God’s holy ordinance, and there unto I plight thee my troth.” Several noted that Ethan did not blink once. With a nod, Stacy had Brit repeat after her. Brit lisped repeating each word slowly and ensuring that she said each and every one, “I Brit take thee Ethan to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to be bonny and buxom at bed and at board, to love and to cherish until judgment cometh, according to God’s holy ordinance and thereunto I plight thee my troth.” Ethan actually blinked at part of the plight and squeezed Brit’s hands slightly.

Bowing her head, Stacy said, “Let us pray. Bless these rings, O merciful Lord, that those who wear them, that give and receive them, may be ever faithful to one another, remain in your peace, and live and grow old together in your love, under their own vine and fig tree, and seeing their children’s children. Amen.” Ethan quirked slightly at the last part of the prayer. Stacy gave each one of the rings to give to the other. Ethan placed his ring onto Brit’s finger repeating after Stacy, “With this ring, I thee wed; and with my body, I thee honor; and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” With the last word, he slowly slid the ring onto Brit’s finger before looking up to her with the triumphant expression of a 10-year old after his first kiss. Brit then repeated the same vow as she slid a ring onto Ethan’s finger. She could not resist bouncing slightly as it settled in place and her smile mirrored his happiness.

Both knelt as Stacy placed her hands on their foreheads and said, “Let us pray.. O Eternal God, Creator and Preserver of all mankind, Giver of all spiritual grace, the Author of everlasting life; Send thy blessing upon these thy servants, this man and this woman, whom we bless in thy Name; + that, as Isaac and Rebecca lived faithfully together, so these persons may surely perform and keep the vow and covenant betwixt them made, whereof this Ring given and received is a token and pledge, and may ever hereafter remain in perfect love and peace together, and live according to thy laws; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Those whom God hath joined together let no existence put asunder. Amen." Removing her hands, both stood. Opening her arms in a wide embrace, Stacy addressed the audience. “For as much as Ethan and Brit have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce therefore that they be Man and Wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

A chorus of Amens could be heard from the crowd, including a few who had not ever said it before. Facing one another again, Stacy said, “May God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit bless, preserve and keep you; the Lord mercifully with his favor look upon you; and so fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace, that ye may so life together in this life, that in the world to come ye may have life everlasting.” Someone whispered, “Blessed be. Amen.” With a warm smile, Stacy said, “Let now this union be witnessed by all present as now. Ethan, you may kiss your bride, and go forth from this house forever your union in grace.” Ethan did not need to be prompted twice and very slowly pulled Brit to him placing her hand where his heart was located. Then he pulled her even closer lifting her up for one single sweet kiss. Their lips barely touched before it turned into a more lingering kiss.

After the kiss, Stacy said, “As these two conclude, there is a request f a ceremony of common cup. Let all witness to look upon.” Ethan picked up the chalice and took his necklace to use the point to cut his wrist slightly dropping blood into the goblet. He then guided Brit’s fingers to do the same with her wrist. Guiding the cup to her lips, words are heard, “My blood, your blood, our blood…unites as one.” She sipped from the cup while watching him the entire time. He drank the rest and whispered, “Mine” before putting the chalice down and walked her back down the aisle and out of the church. Pausing a moment, an invitation was given to all to celebrate their union with music and drink.

Believe in Yourself

Pride is the mother of all sins. It’s the thin line between righteousness and self-righteous, the excessive belief in one’s own abilities that interferes with the individual’s recognition of the greatness of God. It’s been called the sin from which all others arise. Pride is also known as Vanity. The punishment for Pride in Hell will be that the offender will be broken on the wheel. So knowing this, explain why that, even today, some well-meaning teacher is saying, “Believe in yourself.” So much for learning from history.

{The following is from a roleplay involving many. I pulled heavily from the logs. Thanks to those of you who participated.}

Brit did not remember how long she sat in the room with her hand on Ethan. She was lost. Selene and Steve heard her silence and came. Brit’s numbness continued and told them, “No one has energy for so much rage.” Steve told her that there was much work to be done, and that she would have to journey with him and be brave. Time passed. Intruders where two went and one, Brid, stayed. Lorne was there, and Selene and Steve were back. More came. First Merma, then Nikita, and then Gweneth. Others came to the door but were kept from entering by Kishi. Despite personal differences, all were there to support. To assist. Taking Steve’s offered hand, Brit saw the line from Ethan beyond the walls. Like a mother bundling her child in a sweater, Nikita had her hold her necklace before following the line with Steve.

As they reached into Ethan’s mind, they encountered an elaborate labyrinth leading up to a central location. The edges seemed to reach in to the sky in a post-apocalyptic setting. Devils were flying about as angels dived down from the heavens. One central gate made of skulls lead to the start of the labyrinth. Steven told Brit to call to Ethan. She called out, but there was no response. He encouraged her to follow. Far in a distance, she could hear the mingled voices of those left in the room behind. The gate started to grow, but they passed through it. Brit later would not remember how, but she remembered clearly how Steve kept cursed when they both saw the path behind them crumble to lava.

Beyond the gate, there were three entrances. One guarded by an angel. One by a devil and one by a small shape with its back turned to them. More songs in the back calming even though terrifying sounds seemed to mingle within them. Nikita whispered for Brit to choose and Steve touched the doors. Brit touched the small figure gently. The angel and devil did not move, but the small shape turned. It was a blind, little girl dressed in tatters of a court gown. Wind started to blow as she asked, “What do you want?” A tiara laid nearby. Brit whispered, “Ethan. I want him to come home. Where is he?” The girl smirked and turned away from Brit and Steve saying, “He’s not talking to me. Again. That self-righteous bastard. He will rot in this abyss forever like I had to.” Then she asked them, “Want to see?” Both nodded to the girl who pointed down the path. Brit and Steve started in the direction she indicated after Brit wiped the tiara clean and placed it on the girl’s head.

Once they crossed into the labyrinth, the wind stopped. Steve and Brit found themselves in the middle of a battle. Warriors with scimitars and horned figures were commanding troops. Those fighting were slaughtering without thought of mercy. Steve recognized the area to be Constantinople with its wall around the city. On the other side of the city wall, a pillar of light can be seen. And part of the wall seemed to be missing though no one but Steve and Brit noticed. Steve cautioned Brit to not attract attention. She covered her ears and closed her eyes feeling herself falter slightly. Steve grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the wall. Singing increased and they found themselves in the city with the wall solid behind them. The shouts and cries from the battle raging seemed to grow louder too.

Cries of defeat can be heard throughout the city. Chaos and gloom surround the beautiful walls. Some are shouting that they cannot save or protect the helpless anymore. That everything is lost and no one is safe. General panic runs through the city and directly in front of Steve and Brit a warrior dressed in elite armor crosses himself three times and whispers, “I failed.” With that, the paladin falls on his own sword condemning himself for eternity as punishment for his shortcomings. Brit was terrified they were too late, but Steve noticed the light behind the fallen warrior. He told her, “Hurry. Soon we will be in big trouble.” Both rushed toward the pillar. Songs, sad, sweet and beautiful, could be heard louder.

It was then that they saw him. Ethan, looking younger than she remembered and not at all pale, was hovering in the pillar of light dressed like a priest of the city. The sounds of battle grew distant and the chanting of a chorus of religious songs seemed to come out of the Hagia Sophia. Brit touched the pillar which was only light. She clasped his hands and whispered, “Ethan….come home.” His eyes opened and he hovered a bit lower. His physical form opened his eyes as he did when looking to Brit. “Princess.” He looked to Steve for a moment before returning his attention to her. “I failed you.”

She held his hands tightly. “No,” she whispered. Blinking slowly, she started to process thoughts again remembering Nikita’s words. “Only if you give up, Ethan.” Her lip started to tremble as she struggled to find the words to explain to him. “Only if you do not come home. Beloveds do not hurt each other. It will only hurt if you do not come home. You promised.” He did not respond.

The paladin appeared to one side without his helmet. It was Ethan a few years older. Much like he looked prior to her burning. Then the vision of him as he had been on his quest for revenge covered in rage and hate. Ethan replied serenely, “But he fell. And you were left unprotected. He should not have left you that way.”

Brit looked at the paladin Ethan and the blood-thirsting Ethan. Then back to the version that spoke. Her hands never let go of his. “Ethan.” Her voice was soft. “You only failed yourself. It mattered not to me. I do not remember and you can only fail me now. You promised! You said beloveds do not hurt each other.” She continued to watch him ignoring the warrior or the blood-thirster. She could not sense Steve though she knew he was there.

Lorne focused calming energies in the room, and Selene watched over all. Steve spoke in a soft voice, “Ethan. Remember your job is not done. You made a promise and the preacher brought your beloved so that you can see what its worth. So come, you lost soul, and take the place you should never have left.” He looked to Brit adding, “The one right beside her.”

Ethan watched for a long moment. Songs, chants, and battle sounds mingled. After looking to the paladin and then to his blood-raged self, he closed his eyes whispering. His arms stretched to his sides. She found herself pulled against him because she would not release his hands. The other two figures disappeared. Keeping Brit near, he offered a hand to Steve.

Brit and Steve found themselves in the room surrounded by all who were helping. Ethan’s hair turned black again and his skin started to turn pale again. Working quickly, Nikita cut Brit’s wrist and she dribbled blood again on his lips. The orbs, not meant to pull anyone from torpor, were placed near so Ethan could see them, and the dagger was moved from his chest. Gweneth held her vial containing her Sire’s blood and readied to open her own vein if necessary. Selene tended to Steve and the chorus of Merma, Lorne, and Brid grew louder. Meanwhile, Kishi continued to keep others out of the room.

As the blood trickled into Ethan, his eyelids moved rapidly and fangs appeared in his mouth. A feral growl could be heard coming from his chest. Nikita quickly pushed Brit behind her and placed herself between Ethan and Brit. Lorne pulled Brit on back toward him and Merma, while Nikita ensured Ethan would find the vials. He drained them quickly but then sinks his fangs into Nikita’s throat. Merma moved between Ethan and Brit as the room watched Ethan drink from Nikita. Steve whispered to Ethan to encourage him to calm his inner beast. Ethan seemed to grow more sentient as he looked round the room. Nikita’s eyes looked to Ethan’s. A flash of purple that seemed to glow. “Convince me, Ethan. Convince me you can be near her without danger or you will not be allowed to move off that wall. I made a promise.”

Regaining composure, Ethan gave each person a nod of acknowledgement. To Nikita, he replied, “I was gone and now I’m back.” Pausing, he stood tilting his head to the side as he often does. “I’m her beloved…beloveds do not hurt each other, Nikita.” And with that, Nikita let him near again. The songs ended….and appreciation was given to all…with humble thanks and shelving pride for that moment.

A Pint of Blood

Brit wasn’t exactly sure what happened, but she saw the end result. Ethan laying in a tank of blood motionless and aged to such an extreme that she might not have recognized him less for the clothing. Her mind could not process, but instincts screamed that she needed him out of the blood he was in. The blood smelled stale and old to her. It took time to figure out how to open the tank and a bit longer to drain it. She poured the blood off of the fire escape and watched it sink into the sand below, but Ethan was still covered in dank maroon liquid. She worked silently to remove his boots and, using his dagger, she cut the bloody clothing from him. The blood covered her hands. On the tank lid, she wrote “bi*l*vd” and then rinsed both him and the tank down with cool, clean water.

As she dried both the corpse-like aged body and the tank, she sensed a presence almost familiar to her. Her eyes widened as she looked to the tank, but it was not him. Turning, she saw Gweneth, Ethan’s chylder. Turning back to him, she said, “Ethan, Gweneth is here to see you.” Watching the body in the tank, she nodded and lisped, “Ethan is not feeling so well, Gweneth. He apologizes for not standing.” Brit’s hand touched his hair as the withered figure continued to age. Gweneth said nothing for a long while and simply stared at the figure within. Her Sire was dying. Brit babbled trying to explain, but nothing made sense, and Gweneth was overcome with feelings she could only describe as sorrow as she helped Brit cover the body with a clean sheet. Gweneth whispered, “Brit, I’m here now, with you. You are not alone.”

Silence hung over the room. Both looking down at the figure and time passed. Slowly, the body continued its journey toward dust. Brit’s voice sounded like a broken child, “What do we do? It is not like before?” Her mind remembered Ethan when he went in to torpor the previous summer. He was beautiful then looking much like a museum relic lying dormant in the hiding place she had found. “Brit,” Gweneth said, “Ethan needs blood. Good blood. He will need some of yours and mine. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Ethan’s dagger was still in her hand, but Brit did not trust herself to use it. So she used the point on the charm of her necklace to pierce her skin and dribbled drops of blood on Ethan’s lips. The droplets splattered like crimson tears and were absorbed. Twisting the point, she kept her blood flowing though slowly until a soft clot formed. Then Gweneth used a fingernail allowing a slow steady stream to dribble onto his lips and again, the blood was absorbed.

Another presence could be felt. Seeing Nikita, Brit explained Ethan was aging and confessed she knew not what to do. Nikita’s anger was masked by the cold stare and monotone voice. “Giving up, huh,” she said to Ethan. No response. Nikita watched as Brit and Gweneth drizzled blood and watched as it was absorbed. “I know what he needs. Bridgette, focus on me. I can save your beloved, but he may hate me. You have to decide.” Caressing Ethan’s hair, she tried to focus again. No thoughts. Brit was numb, but replied, “If he gives up, it is his choice. Ethan said that he would find me again in my next life.” She paused and continued, “He has to decide whether to stay with us…with me…or go.”

More came and some had to go. Gweneth had to rest. Lorne and Merma came. Voices around. Offering suggestions. Offering comfort. But Brit was numb and exhausted, and started to feel overwhelmed. Her necklace started to glow as she heard voices. All well-meaning. Then, a bright light and she found herself on the floor of their resting spot, with Ethan still in front of her. She looked about not understanding. Carefully she watched him. His body did not seem to age anymore at that moment. Laying a blush furry rug down, she moves him gently by rolling him one way, and then the other so he is on the rug. She replaces the sheet around him. He looked so old and frail. Sitting near his head, she combed his hair like she did when he was in torpor before. Looking at the necklace, she carefully pierced her wrist and again dripped blood splatters onto his lips. Tiny drops. So very small. Hours passed and she dribbled tiny bits of blood and watched it absorb only to open a new spot when soft clots would prevent from more blood to fall.

Another drop. Another dribble and all she could wonder was whether he would uphold his promise to her. “If you go,” she lisped, “then I wish to go with you. I do not wish to be here without you.” There were no tears for she hurt too much for tears to fall. “I do not remember being burned Ethan. It matters not and is not real to me, but I shall never forget the pain I feel right now…and you promised that Beloveds never hurt each other.” It was the last thing she said. No sleep. She dribbled blood on his lisp wordlessly for the rest of the night. Twelve hours later, she saw more wrinkles. More evidence he was aging toward dust. It was only then, she kissed his lips as used both hands and sank his dagger into his heart just as he had done when he needed to sleep.