The Inquisition

Ethan said, “Last year, you made a lovely witch, Brit. I enjoyed dancing at the church thoroughly.” Both were on the second floor of the Shelter and gazing out of the window to the street below. A neko in an angel outfit passed along with a demon wearing scarcely more than a halo. Raising an eyebrow, Ethan audibly exhaled. “I wish to stay in tonight.’ His fingers reached for her and he nodded back to their resting place even though the night was still early. She seemed surprised, but said nothing and followed him inside to their resting place.

Sitting in his chair, Ethan pulled Brit onto his lap before picking up the book on his desk. “You asked for a story, I believe. A Halloween story.”

Brit perked with interest turning to the book. “Oh yes, please,” she lisped before adding with a whisper, “A scary story.” Attempting to twist to look at the book, she rearranged herself in Ethan’s lap ready to hear the story and hoped the book held pictures.

He grinned at her interest in Halloween knowing she knew little of its history. “A scary story,” Ethan repeated. “And you promised it would not cause night terrors.” Brit nodded affirmatively as he watched. “Hmm. Well, very well.” Opening the book, he gave her a sideways glance and said, “This of course is not a fairy tale, Brit.” Seeing her look of surprise, he added, “This story is very real.” When her eyes widened suitably, he said, “It is called The Inquisition. I borrowed this book from the library’s collection – using my new library card.”

Ethan paused to reflect that he truly had a new library card written in red glitter crayon no less. With a shake of his head, he continued, “I selected this book because of your obvious interest in witches because witches among other things were focuses of inquisitions.” Brit had him pause due to several questions. He responded patiently ensuring she understood the purpose and key players in an inquisition.

“Now sometimes,” Ethan explained, “an inquisitor would be called to identify a witch. Those who were thought to cavort and interact with the devil were rounded up and brought before this man of God.”

“How would people know who was a witch?” asked Brit.

Ethan placed his hand to his mouth pressing slightly to suppress the grin. When he was quite sure he could maintain his serious expression, he said, “Sometimes, one could determine it by their dress. Such as a pointy hat like you wore last year on this night.”

Brit blinked and said, “Maybe the girl just wore it for Halloween. Like I did!”

With a half shrug, Ethan said, “Well, Brit. They would always give a reason such as that, but they could have worn anything. Why would they select such a garment knowing how it made them look?”

Brit said, “Because…Halloween. It’s all for witches and ghosts and vampires and…scary things….not that you are scary. But you can be scary if you want.” She blinked a few times before shaking her head not wishing to remember him that way.

“I am a vampire, baby. So I dress as one for Halloween, but you,” he almost cooed dragging his finger down her neck, “You dressed as a witch. Hmm?”

Brit squirmed and said, “But, Ethan. I…I’m not a witch.”

Sighing deeply, he closed the book and seemed lost in thought. “All witches say that. I think every one I knew back then would have said it.” He looked at her with feigned concern. “No matter. There are other ways to see if one is a witch.”

Brit seemed relieved, “Good.” His fingers still stroked her skin and he said nothing but seemed to watch her oddly, “Um…how?”

“Oh, quite simple really,” he said low. His fingers caressed her hair, “Witches often had red hair.” He let the comment hang in the air and he held her gaze. Her heartbeat picked up slightly and he said softly, “And often….green eyes.”

Brit swallowed hard and said, “But….I’m not a witch. I’m just me.”

This time, he simply watched her. His fingers traced her lips before caressing her bite marks. “Some bewitched their beloveds. And caused them to act in ways they had not before.” She tilted her head in confusion. “I’d never married…before you.”

“Because you love me!” she exclaimed. He said nothing. She turned an opened the book. Several pictures of witches before and after redemption could be found. “I’m not a witch, Ethan.” She peeked at him over the book. Her hand shook slightly as she flipped pages.

“Witches were often nervous when questioned. They seemed afraid in an interrogation.”

Brit squeaked seeing an image. “Yah….LOOK at what they did to witches!”

Closing the book, Ethan took it from her. “They have no reason to fear less they were witches Brit.” His voice was eerily calm. His fingers pointedly went to her hair, eyes, and bite marks. Looking down, he adjusted her wedding ring.

She watched him silently noticing his fingernails had lengthened. “Do witches always hang or get burned when they were found?” Her voice seemed stressed and breathy. Her heart beat had quickened a bit more.

Ethan’s eyes flashed crimson just for a moment and the mist sealed the door. “No, Brit. Sometimes they were drowned as well.” Opening his desk drawer, he retrieved his rosary. “Have you something you need to confess?” His voice was still strangely quiet.

“I….I’m not a witch!” She squirmed watching his fingers adjust his rosary. She repeated her words with a hint of a pout as she felt helpless.

It was all Ethan could do to keep from giggling, but he said, “I never said you were a witch, Brit. But sometimes, witches will try to use sympathy to cloud the fact they were a witch.” She swallowed hard and blinked at him not knowing what to say. Her heart was racing. “Are you quite sure….you have not something you wish to say?” he asked again.

“No!” She gasped and took a big breath suddenly wanting to get fresh air.

Ethan said calmly, “Tempers. Witches were notorious for displaying a flash of temper.”

Brit slipped from his lap and started to say something and blinked. Then she started to say something again, and puffed her cheeks. Ethan reached for his rosary and let it dangle from his fingertips without taking his eyes off of her. “I’m not a witch,” she told him again.

Ethan arched his eyebrow and reached for the book. Opening it, he read silently for several moments while Brit stood there and squirmed. “It says here,” he said with his fingers tapping the page, “that witches have distinguishing marks up on their body. Since you seem so adamantly wishing to prove to me you are not a witch, we shall take a look.” With a motion, he said, “You will need to remove your clothing. After all, a proper witch would likely hide enchantments in them.”

Later, Ethan declared Brit innocent of witchcraft. She lisped sleepily, “I told you that I was not a witch.”

Chuckling, he replied, “Brit. I never thought you were a witch.”

Sitting up quickly, she gasped, “You made me think so! You…you…you scared me!”

Pulling her to him, he gave her a sweet kiss. “You asked me for a scary story. Your mind did the rest.”

Happy Halloween!

The Nature of Beasts

One evening in September, Blueray intervened with a tut-tut as Apollo reached to touch Brit’s bite marks in front of Ethan and, Ethan’s abrupt reaction and words caused her to smile cruelly. Her thoughts turned to the true nature of a beast when its treasure is touched. She had heard tales of it, but had never witnessed it for herself. Apollo seemed quite bewildered. Blueray warned, “Do you really want to die so easily?”
*****
Ethan watched Brit as she walked from the diner. Her three days away from him surely affected her negatively. His eyes narrowed as he observed. She didn’t seem as peppy as she usually was, he noted grimly and, before her absence, she would have all but ran up the steps. To Ethan, this confirmed what he already knew: While others could try to care for his beloved, only he really knew how to tend to her best. The thought briefly cheered him up and he watched her duck inside.

Ethan nodded briefly to the guests of the Shelter as he followed Brit in. When she slowed to greet those she had not seen in a few days, he felt his annoyance return. Patches of news were exchanged. All caused his mood to grow darker. He wanted to thoroughly check her over and her usual inattentiveness fueled his displeasure at this moment. “Brit, please,” he said as he gestured impatiently toward the stairs. A few steps later, Ethan found himself speaking to another, “I must speak with my wife. You will please excuse us.” By the time they reached the landing, Ethan muttered in a language he had all but forgotten, “Good lord. Herding cats would be easier.” As they reached the door, he said, “I wish you to remove those clothes when we settle.”

Remembering the pictures of medicinal cups that were applied to the skin, Brit stopped just outside of the door. Seeing others nearby, he wrapped an arm about her waist as he opened the door and easily deposited her inside the room. The door shut with a loud thud and he audibly exhaled. “Ethan,” she lisped softly. His mouth did not move but she heard his voice loudly within her head exclaim, “Do as I say!” She backed away slightly in surprise and bumped the desk.

Seeing her surprise, he looked down uncomfortably for a moment and rechecked his temper before looking up at her again. “Brit, remove your clothing.” His jaw muscle clenched as he added, “Please.” Watching him a moment, she nodded and fumbled with the lacings on the front of the dress. He could tell that she was not frightened, but she was bewildered at his mood. Her hands shook in confusion causing him to soften a bit more. Walking to her, he took her hands kissing the palm of each one and rubbing them with his thumb. Arranging them on her lap, his hand stroked her hair for a moment before he took her laces and started to pull. Ethan said softly, “Why…why did you leave the Shelter….our resting place?” His eyes watched attentively for an answer.

She watched him curiously. His voice sounded different. Thicker. Peering up at him, she replied sincerely, “My chest hurt, Ethan, and you were resting. And I remembered Joah could make people better.” He quietly loosened the bodice before staring at her palms again. This time, he removed the gloves to look more closely at her skin. His fingers tracing to her wrists turning them over in his hands as if viewing a precious coin to ensure it is the same coin as seen the day before. Watching him rub at a white fleck on her fingernail, she wondered whether he would answer.

Ethan slid the bodice from her shoulders and untied the skirt to watch it fall. Ethan’s chest rose and fell as if he was exhaling again and he nodded that he understood. His eyes looked different. Darker. His fingers removed the bodice and skirt completely before he lifted her to the desk to remove her boots noting that one of the buckles was even on the wrong notch. His fingers examined her legs one at a time as he removed her stockings after popping each garter. Noting no changes, he placed a hand on each side of her hips and said coolly, “I could have tended to you when I woke.”

“But you were resting,” she explained. It was all most logical to her.

Caressing her skin through the chemise, he noted a spot of fabric that was wearing thin. It wasn’t there before! Ethan could smell the scent of the library under the heady eucalyptus scent that still clung to her skin despite her shower. The library smell was not unpleasant, but it was not the finely milled soap that he had created after spending several hours in the perfumery. Without a response, he picked her up and carried her to the shower. Turning on the water, he touched it to be sure it was warm before removing her chemise and pressing her under the water.

Watching her play in the water a bit lightened his mood. Ethan removed his shoes, socks and jacket before quickly rolling his pant legs and shirt sleeves. Not caring that the fabric got wet, he lathered up her hair in the familiar vanilla-laced shampoo that held a barely-there hint of musk. His hands soaped her up using the same scent. Each time, he would bring her near and inhale deeply until she seemed familiar with his eyes closed. As he dried her, he noticed every mark that had not been on her before and quizzed her over each and every one of them.

After Brit was dried, Ethan rubbed lotion into her skin. Noting her smooth texture, he wondered who had supplied her with personal necessities. She had necessities, he thought darkly. Here. Shaking off the grim thought, he carefully started to comb out her wet hair. “Did someone comb your hair out, Brit?” he asked suspiciously.

Brit said, “No. I did that myself.”

Neglectful, Ethan thought. It was just more proof that only he could properly care for her. He smirked at the thought. Ethan selected her dress and make up for the following evening, but kept her wrapped in a large bath sheet for now. A few final checks and he felt that she was as she had been before leaving even if she had a bit of the cold lingering.

Still a bit weary from her cold, she snuggled against him. After arranging her just so, he nuzzled her neck and bit gently. Her blood tasted differently. Perhaps it was the lingering cold or maybe it was her change in diet. No matter, Ethan thought. It will be normal soon. With that thought, he brought his wrist up and bit so the blood pooled. “You will drink now.” There was no ‘please’ or other nicety. His voice left no question whether it was offered as he pressed it against her lips and held it so until she drank sufficiently.

Ethan was nearly falling over from needing to rest when he finally pulled her to him and set the mist around the door to protect. Waking before he did as always, Brit pulled on what he wanted her to wear and tried to open the door finding it quite locked. She fumbled with the mechanism. After a few minutes, she knew that it would only open when his eyes did.

Good Intentions

Three nights before, Ethan woke and reached for Brit only to find a crumpled blanket. With an audible sigh, he rose, dressed, and went to find where she had gone. She was not in the showers, so he went toward the first floor coming to a halt when he saw that the first floor was submerged. The city had flooded so high that the water had breached the sandbags. Ethan shot back to the second floor asking the Shelter’s residents whether they had seen his wife. None had. A few questions brought him a bit of comfort at finding the flood had come in steadily but gradually. It was unlikely that Brit had got caught in fast waters and swept out to sea.

Regardless, he stormed up to the rooftop and flagged down a passerby on a float made of barrels. Masking his concern, he asked, “Could you go to the library to inquire whether my wife is there? Return either way. I shall make it worth your while.” Ethan paced the rooftop until the person returned. He found that his wife was at the library where she was being tended for a cold. His mouth set grimly as he paid the man for the information. Not only was Brit stranded across town, but she was unwell. Time passed slowly and Ethan’s mood grew darker despite his ability to get information regarding Brit. He had not been more than an arm’s reach from her upon waking in over a year. By the end of the third night, Ethan knew the streets would be passable when he woke the following evening. He laid caressing the space beside him when it was time to rest.

The following evening, Ethan travelled to the library. He took the steps two at a time and entered to find a crowd. Immediately seeing Brit, he merely looked at her without interfering with the conversation. Wrapping an arm around her, he kissed her cheek and turned to the group. His foot tapped on the ground slightly as he looked from one to the next as they spoke. Brit’s hair, he noted, had been washed in a shampoo that was unknown to him. His fingers caressed her locks and he examined the ends of her hair unhappily.

More conversation. Ethan grinned at Brit’s remark about way nice people. His expression darkened when he looked back to Blue and he spoke for the first time, “There are consequences for everything. Our actions always catch up with us. What you will decide to do will haunt you forever as well. I can only wish you luck and prudence in your choices.” He kept Brit close to him and caressed her arms. His fingers drug on her skin slightly from the soap she had used. It was not the finely milled soaps he had purchased. He wondered where she had bathed and whether anyone was near when she did so. Larissa inquired about the two of them and Ethan assured her that they were well enough. He added, “Brit has had a minor adventure with her health.” Looking down at her, he sad, “Which will be made sure not to trouble us again.”

More people came and went and the conversation continued. Ethan settled near the fire and pulled Brit to him placing two fingers on her throat for 30 seconds. He then brought his lips to her forehead. Brit held still for him and said, “I really do not think I need an onion poultice. Or cupping. Or even a remedy from this century.” The last was a quote from Omega as she held out the small bottle of antibiotic. Ethan took it looking over the label.

Looking at Brit sternly, Ethan said, “I do think that such a decision is for me to make and for you to comply with.” His gaze seemed rather absolute even as he continued to caress her side with his fingertips. Her clothing, he noticed, was clean and it smelled of eucalyptus. His abrupt words caused her to blink. She assured him that she was much better. At her words, he cocked a brow and his foot started to tap again rhythmically. “Much better is not well, is it?” With the same stern expression, he said calmly, “There will be no discussion about this Brit.” He stared at her as she crinkled her nose and struggled not to rub it. “If needed, I will treat your symptoms with ways that have proven themselves over centuries.”

Omega noted that Brit did seem much improved. Ethan nodded slightly at Omega and looked Brit over again. “So she tells me,” he said softly as he ran his finger up her side to her throat again. Pressing his lips together, his jaw muscle flexed beneath the skin. “Perhaps no poultice then.” With an added whisper, he said, “We shall see about the cupping though.”

“Cupping!” Omega exclaimed. “Surely you jest, Ethan.” Brit swallowed nervously and cuddled against him. She remembered seeing pictures of such practices and the marks it left behind.

Ethan returned the antibiotics to Omega. “These will not be required. And jest? Surely I am not. I do not often find myself in the role of the jester.” His fingertips moved back to Brit and stroked down her arm to her fingers entwining them with his own.

Omega smiled, “I will keep the tablets in case Brit’s illness takes a turn for the worse. Thankfully she seems to be recovering without additional measures – either modern or barbarically medieval.”

Narrowing his eyes for a moment, Ethan responded, “You surely mean ‘proven treatments that have been tested for more than three years on lab rats before being released to the market.” Placing an arm around Brit, he pulled her closer and ran his hand over her back and neck. His lips almost formed a pout as he stared at the patterns in the flames of the fire. “Antibiotics are…” His words trailed off before they even started. His fingers tapped lightly along the slope of her shoulder. “Brit, did you eat and drink properly tonight? Will Annika have anything to report to me?”

With the flood, Brit had not left the library in three days. She pointed out that Grr had made soups. Grr discussed what was in each healthy stew. Ethan nodded slightly to Grr and said, “I am sure you have made every effort to keep her well-fed. I do appreciate that.” Turning to Brit, Ethan seemed to almost be inspecting her as he said dryly, “So, you have not been eating what I have directed Annika to prepare for you specifically.” She tried to point out the flood, but was cut short with, “I believe we have a trip to the diner coming then.” Frowning, he took a firm hold of her hand and said, “We should go.”

Brit thanked all for helping her to get better and followed Ethan to the diner. Once there, he ordered food to be brought to her and asked that other supplies he had ordered to be sent to the Shelter less it spoil. While she ate, he examined her skin, which seemed slightly ashen and her fingernails – one which had a small white fleck in the pink just below the crescent moons. He grimaced as he touched the fingertips and noted they needed lotion. His mood felt dark as he thought of Omega’s near chiding of his decisions. “I will never do something that is not thought through with you, Brit. And you need to do what I tell you and trust me.” Tapping the table with his fingers, he grumbled, “I know what I am doing when it involves you, princess.”

As she ate, Ethan silently watched. His thoughts were troubled and he felt angry. Logic said that all was well and that he should be grateful that Brit had been well-cared for. Memory of waking three days without her played over in his mind. Petulantly, he reminded himself that he could have cared for her had she not have left! Noting she was playing with her food more than eating, he said abruptly, “I wish to return to the Shelter.” Signing a slip for Annika, he gestured Brit toward the door. Rather than walk with her, he followed a step behind.

October 14th

Brit looked out of the second floor window. It had stopped raining. Peering over the railing, she noted that the water had still submerged the first floor. Returning to her pillow, she laid across it and took a deep breath. Brit was breathing easier. Even though she continued to cough and sneeze a bit, her fever was gone. Omega had suggested that she rest, and Ethan had not been able to travel to the library to get her. Coloring had been suggested but Brit did not feel up to the strain of drawing and, therefore, she did something she never had done before: She looked at the pictures she had drawn before.

Turning the pages, she noticed the picture she had colored a few days after Ethan had become her beloved. Her brow furrowed as she noticed there was no picture of the night on the rooftop. Looking again to the window, she blinked rhythmically. She focused and realized that a year had passed. Sitting in the quiet of the library, she counted. It was too confusing. She went to get a calendar and stared at it. Her fingers touched the date of October 14th. A year had passed!

Brit crawled to the library window and stared up at the rooftop across the street at the spot she first saw Ethan. They had not become beloveds right away. Months passed. For a time, he had gone into torpor. Forty days and nights passed. Day in and out, she had watched over him and cared for him as he lay dormant. She ensured he was clean of dust and debris, and she read to him daily. Days passed. She brushed his hair and took the liberty of really observing him. She even moved his lips so she could view his fangs. Prior to Ethan, fangs terrified her.

When it was time for him to wake, she was excited to see him moving again even though she felt a small sense of loss. It was the first time Brit ever felt a purpose. She felt that he needed her. Prior to torpor, he had given her clear instructions to pull the dagger and leave. Brit pulled the dagger, but could not leave. Ethan turned his back on her and said tersely, “Brit, you are not safe here.” She knew then that he needed her. Rather than leaving, she offered her wrist. Others arrived on the rooftop, but she was attached to him as he drank from her wrist. At that moment, Brit felt that he needed her and they were rarely apart again.

A few nights later, on October 14th, they were both at the spot where Brit first saw Ethan. She peeked back up at it as if to see him standing there. An odd being said, “Hello, dead one. Are you luring or preying?” Ethan responded and the subject of lies was brought up by the being. Ethan said that he could determine whether someone had lied easily. This was curious as Brit had just learned of lies. She asked him to demonstrate by asking what he could see in her mind.

Ethan seemed startled, but removed his glasses to comply with her request. He looked at her eyes. She found herself unable to look away thinking his eyes were as beautiful as the rest of him. Brit remembered feeling almost linked in the gaze. Her cheeks flushed pink remembering his whisper, “Quite unique. Especially for a human girl.” He turned and mechanically took his hand, and he did not pull back when she clasped it. The nearness was comforting and she stepped closer to brush back his hair.

At some point, the strange being faded away. Brit enjoyed being with him. When Brit neared him, his hand seemed to shake a bit. Brit could no longer feel the presence within as she could moments ago. As she came closer, Ethan’s eyes were less radiant and he held her hand a bit tighter. With a tilt of his head, he seemed to be staring at something rare in front of him. His eyes seemed more focused on what was in front of him rather that what laid beyond her eyes.

Stepping closer, Brit idly touched his hair as if he were still in torpor. Ethan did not move for several minutes nor did he say a word. His hand reached out and lightly touched his hair. He pulled her to him slowly. Ethan ran his hand through her hair once. Twice. His face seemed to show a hint of conflict as if Ethan was having second thoughts about what he was feeling; and then, Ethan leaned a bit forward as if wanting to close most f the gap between them.

Brit felt his hand grow warmer and she watched as he moved closer. Unbeknownst to her, she also leaned a bit closer in return. Ethan ran a finger down her cheek before outlining her lips before touching her face. Moving his fingers away from her lips, he gently stroked her face after pulling back. Then he closed his eyes and leaned in again barely touching her lips with his. Brit’s eyes did not close and she stood statue straight as she felt his lips touch hers. It was so light that she was unsure whether it had really happened.

Ethan pulled back a moment gauging her reaction and then leaned forward again to softly place a second kiss on her lips, and he swore that his heart was beating in his chest. Brit’s hand clung to his and her eyes closed on the second kiss remaining so after he broke the kiss. She blinked slowly a few more times before closing her eyes and mimicking his motion as she returned his most gentle kiss. Ethan felt his senses heighten and he pulled her closer to him to feel her lips on his again. This time, the kiss was bolder. And like before, it was returned.

Later, they continued to watch the city from the rooftop. The shouts and screams meant nothing to either of them. It was true that she had experienced nothing of love or lovers, but she whispered, “I think I always knew you would be my lover.”

Ethan grinned playfully and held her really close for a moment. The shouts and screams from the city below did not distract either of them. “I’m very lucky indeed,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her.

It was at that moment that Brit realized that, with his nearness, her mind was peacefully at rest. Usually, Brit struggled with thousands of sensations but, with him near, Brit found none of the usual distractions. She liked the feeling of him close to her. Wanting to offer him something, she whispered, “I’ll describe sunrise for you every day if you want.”

His arms tightened around her. “That might well be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” he said. Brit remembered it all as she waited for him to come to the library for her. She hoped the rain would stop so he could remember the past year with her on the rooftop.

[Ethan, this morning’s sunrise was a deep pink along the horizon blanketed above by dark purple clouds. As you raise your eyes to the sky above, there was a vibrant tangerine that faded into a creamy orange color melding into light blue. Traveling to the west, the sky had a darker shade of blue. I hope I always describe sunrises to you. Happy 1st anniversary.]

Home Remedies

((Taken from RP))
Brit woke disoriented and drenched. Outside, the rain continued to pour down hard and the streets were silent. There was fire. Turning her head quickly, she blinked and then recognized the warm hearth of the library fireplace. Trying to piece together events of the evening before, she clawed her wet hair matted to her face. Sitting up, she pushed back Denny’s cape that she had swaddled around her. The library was quiet. Grr looked up from where he worked nearby. She heard Joah’s voice mingled with Faye Li’s somewhere near along with Omega’s. Comforting, but where was Ethan?

Blinking slowly, she watched the flames jump and remembered being in the Shelter with her beloved. He was talking to someone. “I suppose it is all a big circle in the city,” he had said. There was something about the factory. It was not about the guests who had to work off a theft of fuel from there. She closed her eyes and tried to remember. There was a girl with a mechanical smile who made healthy soups. Apollo was mentioning cookies. Brit felt very cold while they spoke and Ethan had cuddled her to him. Then it happened: A tickle of her nose that caused her to sneeze.

Brit could not remember what people were talking about. She recalled that she was shivering as she accepted the hanky Ethan had given her to assist with her dripping nose. His hand slid to her head. Apollo and the girl with the mechanical smile were continuing to discuss soups. Something about shellfish. Something about ways to make them safe to eat. Ethan had blinked and said, “Okay. This is exactly why I said not to forget your raincoat or umbrella, Brit.” He quickly wrapped up his conversations and directed Brit upstairs. Ethan’s jaw clenched and she was quite certain that he was cross with her.

As they were leaving, Apollo mentioned a nurse who was suited for other purposes than nursing. Closing her eyes tightly, Brit remembered feeling very tired as she made it to their resting place and Ethan checking her over. He counted her heartbeats and placed his lips to her forehead. “My head hurts,” she told him. “My nose feels tickly.” His eyes turned dark as he listened while he continued to methodically check her vital signs. “I’m cold,” she whispered.

Turning her away from him, he said sternly, “You will drink now.” His expression made it obvious that he expected nothing more than compliance. Raising his left sleeve, he flexed his fist before bringing his wrist to his mouth and biting down. Hugging her from behind, he held his opened wrist to her mouth and noted that she was stuffy and had a bit of trouble swallowing. His strict expression flashed to worry and he held her a bit tighter. The night was getting late. He had her drink deeply and pulled her to him as he drifted off after feeling that she seemed stronger.

Flames crackled in the fireplace. Brit remembered leaving the Shelter. It was too early for Ethan to wake. Congested. She found her chest hurt when she took breaths. The coughing had started and sneezing grew worse. Feeling weak, she vaguely remembered dodging large puddles to make her way to the library. Joah. She remembered that she had come to find Joah. When she entered, she was greeted by Grr and Joah. Faye Li was there and Omega arrived right after Brit did. Brit remembered some conversation between sneezes. She wanted to be sure that those at the library prepared for the rising waters just in case there was another flood. The small talk made her forget why she had arrived.

“Do you have a cold, Brit?” It was Joah’s voice. She was unsure what it meant, but she felt freezing. Brit had never had so much as a sniffle before. The sneezing and coughing was bewildering. She explained that Ethan told her that she had been in the rain too much and Grr indicated that Ethan was old enough to know.

Omega walked to Brit and gently placed her hand on Brit’s forehead only to find it hot and clammy. Omega sighed, “You’re ill.” With concern, Omega quizzed Brit. “Does it hurt to breathe? How long have you been coughing?” Omega nodded as Brit answered. “Such infections are not as serious as they once were, but best to be on the safe side, yes? You must drink a lot of water and juice, Brit.” Brit explained that she had also drank of Ethan’s vitae and Omega responded, “Ethan’s vitae will make you feel better and you must also feed yourself in more traditional ways.”

After inquiring whether Ethan would mind if they helped, all sprung to action. Grr made a warm soup of items from his pack. Brit vaguely recalled packets of items along with a blue enameled mug and a long, intact celery stalk. He poured in water from his canteen. Omega conversed to herself as she diagnosed a classic flu and stated through pursed lips, “Broad spectrum antibiotics.” Grr chopped celery with his KA-BAR knife and added it to the mug. “I do not think you are seriously ill, Brit, but these things can become serious quickly. You must rest. No running around. You must sit, and read, or colour.” Reflecting on gentler times, she said, “Perhaps some embroidery.”

Joah stepped back biting her lip and opened a book. Grr continued to mix the concoction in the mug and placed it into the flames to heat. Omega had offered Brit some antibiotic tablets telling her to discuss them with Ethan before taking them. Brit looked at the tablets thinking they seemed like magic beans. Joah was silent. Omega said, “Joah, look outside. I need you healthy for what is coming. If it becomes necessary, we will do what needs to be done. For now, let us look to mundane solutions.”

All were quiet for a time simply watching Grr work. Omega told Grr, “I will need a list of ingredients for that brew you are making. Ethan will want to know. As do I.” Grr nodded and stirred the liquid. The celery and other items started to swirl in the steaming soup. “I hardly think Ethan will object over a coup of soup, but best to keep him fully informed, don’t you think, Brit?”

Grr said, “Oh. Sure. Is he resting?”

After a coughing fit, Brit rubbed her nose and worried that Ethan would be unhappy with her for being sick. To Grr, she nodded “He will be okay with it. He said fluids, food, and um…onion poultices if I were not better when he woke.”

Omega smiled, “Yes. All good ideas.” Grr listed miso paste, shitaki mushroom, dried seaweed, sesame seeds and small dried prawns along with some fresh celery. Omega added, “Perhaps Ethan will allow one or two cures from this century too.” To Grr, she commended, “A good soup.”

Brit curled up with Denny’s cape in front of the fire and sipped the soup when Grr gave it to her. She enjoyed the salty taste, but realized that salt was all that she could taste. Omega, Faye Li, Joah, and Grr discussed terms for the Japanese people through the ages and all agreed that Celestials was a pleasing term.

Onion poultices as medicinal techniques were discussed. Brit wrinkled her stuffed nose at the mere sound of it and thought that her fine milled soap would never take a scent of such a thing away. Joah suggested, “Or some use eucalyptus.” A vivid picture of a eucalyptus poultice formed in her mind.

Omega agreed that a eucalyptus and menthol after admitting that onion poultices were not so pleasant, which was why they had fallen out of favor. Joah was asked to prepare the former with supplies on hand upstairs. Brit nibbled the soup appreciatively between coughing and sneezes. Omega reassured her, “If you are a good girl and drink lots of soup and juices, and if you rest, you will feel better soon.”

Joah and Faye Li went to the lab to create an inhalant to help sooth Brit’s breathing. Brit inquired whether it would have garlic and explained that Ethan found garlic repulsive. She also indicated that he was grouchy over her sneezes. “Grouchy, is he?” said Omega. Dryly, she smiled and said, “Yes. Well. Your delightful husband will have to learn there are some occasional issues with a mortal wife.” Upstairs, Joah and Faye Li conversed quietly while mixing the ingredients for the inhalant. Brit sipped the rest of the soup and was comforted by Grr as she shivered from time to time before the fire. Brit vaguely recalled Omega saying, “Hello, Jason. Have you come to try to kill someone today or are you just here to chat about the weather?”

Brit blinked slowly as she tried to remember the events. Jason and Omega talked. Grr discussed his soup as Brit shivered by the flames. Brit remembers a scent of peppermint, eucalyptus, and other scents filling the room. She thinks she may have dozed off only waking to Joah’s gentle touch. Using a t-shirt, Joah covered it in the heady scent of the oils mixed to help break up the congestion after testing it on Grr. His exclamation of “It works! It works! Dammit, get it away! For the love of a scent!”

Deciding against the t-shirt, Joah found a piece of flannel. Brit told Joah softly, “Sniffles…and…my ears itch…and my throat feels scratchy.” Joah also noted that Brit’s fever was up. Grr reassured Brit that getting well will take some time. He ensured she was dry and comfortable in front of the flames. Even Jason showed a hint of concern.

Joah placed some of the mixture on the flannel after heating it. Then she knelt by Brit. “Do you mind if I pin this just inside of your dress, Brit? It will help you breathe.” Brit held still while Joah tucked the flannel inside poultice to skin and pinned each side to Brit’s chemise. As her hand touched the flannel, it seemed to heat up again. The strong scent drifted up to Brit’s nose. Joah ensured Brit’s dress was properly arranged.

Brit could not smell the strong scent. She felt exhausted. Joah leaned over and touched her lips to Brit’s forehead lingering a moment with her eyes closed. “The lady was right. You do have an infection.” Brit did not fully comprehend anything other than she felt terrible. Joah explained that Brit would get better, and said that Ethan’s vitae was a natural antibiotic for her of sorts. Brit did not realize that she had started to breath through her nose again. Nor did she realize that, with Joah’s soft check to her forehead, her fever dropped dramatically. And at some point in the night, her fever broke soaking her.

Brit continued to lie on the pillow in front of the fire. Just a few more moments, she thought…then she would go shower and find Ethan. It was a good plan. Her eyes blinked and she slept again waking nearer to when Ethan would wake.

Bite Me Here

As the sun sank beneath the horizon, Ethan’s eyes opened. It mattered not that he lived in a place where others like him could walk boldly in the daylight hours. Old habits die hard and Ethan could never shake the feeling that the smog and darkness could simply clear with a strong blow from the sea and he would be reduced to dust after 1500 years. Even during bleak times, it was a sobering thought. Brit was snuggled against him and both of them were practically swaddled with multiple blankets. When he shifted, she whimpered a protest at the breaking the warm seal around them which allowed some of the night’s coolness to touch her skin. At the sound, Ethan froze for a moment to ensure he was not rousing her from her slumber.

While lying as still as a corpse next to her, Ethan’s thoughts raced replaying the previous evening over in his head. He was curious. Inching down her side, he pressed against her soft, healed flesh feeling the indentations beneath her skin. His eyes widened as he remembered her soft whisper, “Bite me here.” Her fingers had directed his hand to her taunt upper tummy. Naturally, he complied. Brit never made such requests. His fingers pressed again and the memory flooded his mind. Her skin had been damp from the rain and slightly sweaty from trudging through the streets. He had bitten her neck as he shielded her from others on the street and the rain that continued to pour from the sky.

After so many years, Ethan prided himself on having a clear mind but on this evening he could not recall the sequence of events that led them to the hidden room. His wife at one point told him, “Drink me slow.” As he pieced the memory together, he grinned slightly as his fingers continued to trail along the bites. That was said as he drank, or started to drink, while in the street. Licking his lips in the memory, they had moved to the taxi to continue, but she indicated that she was seeking more. “Bite me here.” Was it a telepathic thought or were the words said. He could not remember and her sleeping mind did not respond when he gave it his own silent nudge. Brit only yielded another whimper of protest when more cold air slipped beneath the blankets.

Within the hidden room, he built a fire in the fireplace and waited to be sure that the chimney still could produce a draw to let smoke exit the room. Peeling off wet clothing, the fire warmed skin as it dried garments. “Bite me here,” she said again. He wondered whether it was the first bite to the tummy or the second onto the hip. His fingers traced down her sleeping form until he pressed the area also healed where more indentations had made. The caress made her writhe slightly as she mumbled something still deep in sleep. Ethan had never bitten anyone in either location before and neither yielded much blood. The first spot was unusual. He sipped and felt that he should have heard the sound one made when drinking the dregs of a delicious milkshake. The sweetness of the blood was almost a tease. The second yielded a small, thin vein. The blood was so deoxygenated. He could almost feel the cells crying for air. It reminded him of being human and craving water when there was only honey.

Brit had asked him to drink her slow when still outside. The beast within caused his muscles to bunch and shake as he struggled to comply with the request. Feeling the fire warm his back, Ethan wanted to grab tightly and drink deeply. His fingers had dug deeply into her skin as he forced himself to continue to take sips. Another sound of protest was heard from beneath the blankets and Ethan realized that his fingers were again pressing into her flesh. He had not breathed in years and felt a desire to pull in air to stave the intoxicating feelings. Again he froze in place and once again, she snuggled against him continuing to sleep.

Down her body to her thigh, his fingers wandered. Ethan remembered Brit’s lisped whisper as she said, “Bite me here.” His lips parted slightly and his fangs lengthened at the memory of drinking from her there. The feeling of her skin on his cheek as he kissed her softly until he got to the point where her finger lingered and sunk into her flesh was almost burned into his memory like a branding iron had placed it there. The popping feeling of the artery that filled his mouth with blood caused him to blink as he remembered every moment that he drank the oxygen-rich blood from her thigh. There was no drinking slowly and he found that he could not help but drink deeply until he felt her fingers cool on his cheek. He had to stop. The struggle to break something so desired to save someone so treasured was etched into his memory as well.

Ethan had pulled his fangs from her thigh and could feel the beast scream from within. He grappled her and pulled her roughly to him. Breathless was the only feeling that he could think to describe the moment. He held her protectively and focused on his love for her. It was an odd feeling to protect someone loved from oneself. He stared ahead at the wall behind the flames in the fireplace while pulling his wrist to his lips. Opening a vein, he held it to her lips knowing she needed to heal. Even still, he could not help tasting miniscule droplets from her wrist as she sipped from his. Greed, he thought, the greatest deadly sin. He felt confident that he would never succumb to the beast when his beloved was involved. Kissing her hair, Ethan held Brit until she woke.

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.