Roses in Snow

Brit closed her coloring book. Tips of crayons scattered around her. “Another broke?” asked Ethan. She nodded with a soft sigh. He gazed at her from his desk. Her body trembled and she stretched trying to shake off the feeling. Closing his ledger, he stood to hold out his hand to her. Pulling her up, he gave her a warm embrace and said, “You need to slow the world down, princess. It will be easier once you do.” He started to describe how she should visualize before she moved. She focused on him as he talked, but a glance within her thoughts showed him that she was not able to truly comprehend. Perhaps when some of the vitae wore off, he told himself. She would have to experiment with her newly found abilities. It was difficult to watch Brit struggle, but Ethan kissed her forehead and went back to his books watching her.

Ethan was proud that Brit was acquiring some of his attributes. He grinned at the memory of her broadcasting a comment to the room and how she struggled with moving very quickly. In time, he told himself, it would become natural for her. Brit settled back and picked up a new crayon. Her fingers moved too quickly on the page and pressed too hard. Within moments, the crayon snapped off the tip. Brit sighed staring at the page where she was trying to draw roses and cherries in snow.

Thinking to the night before, she remembered the warmth of the rooftop amidst the wind-blown snow. Ethan had given her warning about instincts. “When we both need guidance, we shall follow our instincts.” With his fingers caressing her bite marks, he added, “Though, instincts can be treacherous things.” More kisses followed until he said, “Mine. And I will not be left waiting.”

Ethan’s touches pushed the pain of Larissa’s loss from her thoughts albeit briefly. He could see within her thoughts as the newly awakened emotions of anger and grief drained away in his diversion. Brit’s eyes widened at his demeanor and words. Swaying to and fro when he pulled her close to him, she settled against him. “I do confess…that….” Her voice trailed off as she stepped closer pressing her body against his. Her fingers caressed his cheek as she finished her sentence by giving a slow and sensual kiss not wishing him to wait.

Ethan whirled her playfully fast and pressed her against the stone support for the billboard adjusting her body against his. “Confess to me, Brit,” he whispered softly before biting and nibbling along her neck. Moving his lips from her neck to her ear, he pressed her as he whispered again, “Confess to me.” Biting more, he flicked his tongue over her neckline. Snow flurried around them and his fingers shook the flakes free from her hair. Brit struggled to form the words that she wanted him to know. Closing her eyes, she felts his tongue on her neck. Her pulse beneath the skin was strong and vibrant.

Ethan continued to nibble and tease her neck with his fangs, never breaking the skin but leaving many bite marks to blush her skin. He yearned to hear her words spoken even though he could see it in her thoughts. Brit’s thoughts were never linear. He glimpsed it all. Her grief over Larissa’s death and her anger over the words she had heard. Dryl saying, “Dead,” and Nareth confirming that she was gone before the laughter started. Brit was offended and hurt over their behavior toward someone who was very dear to her. Her fingers clung to him as she rubbed her cheek against his hair. Her arms and legs wrapped so tightly around him that there was nothing between them anymore. “Confess to me,” he coaxed again. His voice was seducing her away from her high energy heart ache. “I know you will not fight me,” he said softly into her ear.

The wind was cold, and his body was as cold as the night. It mattered not as she could feel him warming where she was pressed against him. “Don’t fight me,” he repeated placing his lips on her neck. Brit blinked in bewilderment knowing she would never push him away. Opening his mouth wide, he sank his fangs into her skin breaking muscle and vein alike holding her tight as her blood filled his mouth. Before drinking, he pulled back with bloodied lips. Looking directly at her, his eyes were dark affected by her taste and his voice growled softly, “This is what I am, Brit, or at least part of me. I never hid it from you and I will always be part beast. But I will only be yours. Always. And you will never be alone because I will not allow it.”

Dipping her back until the stone supported both of them, Ethan drank heavily from her. His throat muscles working as he swallowed her blood turning it into vitae in his system. Brit’s mind raced to keep up. Telling him she would never fight him. She told him that she loved him. All of him. She could feel the snow pelt her exposed throat as he drank. Ethan enjoyed the feel of her chilled skin against his lips and the heat that lay beneath. “Do not fight me,” his thoughts pressed again and he drank another deep sip. Shifting to one side, his left hand slid lower pulling her tighter against him. With his arms around her and his fangs in her throat, Ethan seemed a predator keeping its prey near him. Brit’s thoughts started to drift as in a dream. Dizzy sensations from his drinking and embrace caused her to want her husband closer.

As if reading her thoughts, Ethan shook his head slightly. Biting his lips several times, he cause his vitae to pool before cupping her face with one hand. “I want your kisses,” he said, “And I want you to drink mine.” His tone all but ordered it as he claimed her lips pouring his vitae into her mouth. Brit kissed him and sucked his lower lip with soft pops as she released it. With each drink, her body received a slight surged reaction as the vitae hit her system. She mumbled ‘yes’ once to him and drank his kisses. Her bite marks pooled blood that slowly dripped down her neck. The color was rich red, crimson and dark, reminding Ethan of roses or cherries in the snow. Brit glimpsed his thought. Sensing her blood dripping, Ethan immediately moved to her bites and sucked the cooling blood greedily from her skin. He nibbled and licked ensuring none was left before returning to her mouth again. Reopening his lip, he demanded, “Drink more.”

Brit swallowed drink after drink of the heady vitae. Her body pushed away unsure she could drink any more. Ethan pulled her back tightly and repeated in a low whisper, “Don’t fight me. Drink more.” Her lips trembled from the powerful vitae coursing through her body. Ethan kissed her softly and dripped more vitae into her mouth as she breathlessly leaned against the post that supported both of them. Dutifully, she swallowed and he kissed again refilling her mouth albeit more slowly. Again, she swallowed. Her body trembling hard as it processed. “More,” he whispered. Her mossy green eyes blinked slowly as he filled her mouth again. One drop after another dripped from his lips until the wound healed. His fingers touched her chin holding her mouth closed with a fingertip until she swallowed.

Picking up another crayon, Brit pulled it twice across the page before it snapped. She sighed. Ethan saw her body still racked with trembles. She would acclimate, he thought to himself. Besides, the benefits she would gain were too precious not to ensure they were within her grasp. “The tremors should pass, Brit. You will learn to control the gifts I give you.” Standing, he walked to offer her a hand. “Perhaps color later.” She took his hand and he pulled her up to him settling back on the desk. After carefully looking her over, he kissed her forehead, her cheek and then her lips. Inside, he glimpsed the focus again on Larissa. She needed time to mourn, he thought. With a hint of a smile, the fact that his wife finally realized that not all were “way nice” showed she was growing in a way he deemed positive. “You will always be mine,” Ethan said softly. He motioned her to follow him to the Haven thinking that perhaps dancing could help her body process, and assist her mind to sooth over the loss of her friend.

The Second Lesson

Truth be told, Brit was growing tired. The fencing lesson had lasted far too long and she was starting to feel most weary. “Again,” Ethan directed. Touching his chest where his heart was located, he said, “Try to touch here, Brit.” Brit struggled to tag him but he moved too fast. He could read her thoughts. She wanted to stop, but continued only because Ethan had swatted her playfully with the broad side of his blade when she quit without his ending the lesson the last time. She could still hear his admonishment, “Next time, the lesson is over only when I say it is, Brit.” Seeing her memories, Ethan lowered his sword and motioned her to him. “You are developing speed in your parries, Brit. However, you lack conviction when you lunge. Enough for today, I think.”

Brit’s sweat was tinged pink upon close examination. She was tired. They returned to their resting place to obtain a few items and made their way south in the city to the public bath. Snow fell as they traipsed through the street. Once in the bath, Brit laid out fresh clothing before quickly removing her fencing garb and stripped down to a tanktop and shorts. Ethan followed suit down to his briefs. Both slipped in the warm water and Ethan rinsed the sweat from Brit’s skin with water by cupping his hand before pulling her back against him. Once she settled against him, Ethan reached for a sponge to drag over her skin as he went over the finer points of the fencing lesson.

In no time, the conversation left fencing and moved to the shared bath. With the moon lighting up the sky behind the clouds, and the snow fluttering to the ground, the bath looked like something resembling a set of a Ridley Scott movie. Brit chattered about the pleasures of hot water, when Ethan replied, “I like the idea of being in hot water with you.” Dipping the sponge again, he squeezed the warm water to flow over her neck, bite marks, and down her back while moving her ponytail aside to kiss her sweetly.

Brit’s relaxed body went rigid for a moment and she sat forward. Blinking, her eyes widened and she suddenly giggled. “That’s a joke, isn’t it? Being in hot water means being in mischief…er…trouble…and so you are saying hot water like a bath and maybe hot water like trouble even if I’m not really trouble.” Brit continued to ramble to process out the joke before giggling again. Letting her know that it was a joke, Ethan grinned pulling her back against him again. His fingers massaged her sides and arms. Brit continued to marvel about the words. She lisped, “I know a different joke.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Yes? Well, why do you not tell me about it then.”

Tapping her toes together happily, Brit said, “Okay. There was a skeleton once up on a time. And he goes to a bar. Like a bar like the Haven. And the bartender says, ‘So what will you have?’ And the skeleton says, ‘I’ll have a beer and a mop!’ And that is my joke!” Brit collapses into giggles and says, “I’ve never seen a skeleton walk or talk, but if it did, you know it would need a mop to drink beer! Or to drink anything. Even water! Because anything wet would go right through him!” Brit gestured animatedly and giggled more, which caused Ethan to grin with pure amusement. In her mind, she visualized the joke and continued to giggle. Ethan marveled at his wife’s growth to grasp and tell jokes, which was a recent ability.

Lathering up the sponge, Ethan washed Brit’s body. Handing her the sponge, he told her that she needed to wash her feet as he could not reach them. “All clean here though,” he said low before leaning and kissing the back of her neck. She leaned against his kiss before lifting her foot and tapping the top of his head with the top of her foot. Ethan blinked at her agility and was sure he could not do the same. Brit turned to wash his body in return and his vampire ego quickly forgot Brit’s flexibility as she spoiled him. “I do enjoy your touches always, Brit,” he whispered. “But these types of touches are definitely special.”

Brit washed him thoroughly. “I like touching you with these types of touches, Ethan,” she said before giving him a playful glance as she kissed the freshly washed chest to see whether it was soap-slippery. Both fell silent for a time. Only the sound of the water rippling as the sponge was dipped and squeezed was heard. After a while, Ethan looked to Brit as he heard her mind speak a single word, “Share.” Unable to deny her, Ethan drank from her in slow sips before breaking the skin on his lips to let her drink during kisses. He pulled her closer and heard her mind reach to him again with a single word. “Share.”

Tracing her lips with his fingernail, Ethan said softly, “You are my wife. The only one I love and treasure. You will learn that sometimes you can take what is rightfully yours without asking. Without words even.” His fingernails caressed her neck and stroked down her back. “Demand it like I do. You will learn that, just like in fencing, you have to take an aggressive stance from time to time.” His fingertips pressed her to him encouragingly as he whispered, “I am yours just as much as you are mine, Brit.” Just as in the fencing lesson, his body and words guided.

The Fencing Lesson

((Taken from RP))

Coming downstairs with a most satisfied grin, Ethan brushed against Brit. Though he seemed in a hurry, he stopped at the door and turned holding his hand out toward her. “Brit, come to me.” When she arrived, he buttoned her coat up and gave her three kisses. “We are going to a walk to the beach. Those of whom we do not speak are coming to make a delivery.” Anticipating her next question, he chuckled, “They will bring several things, princess. Cookies, some supplies, a few things for me and…well, you shall see.” Her eyes grew wide at the mystery. Looping her arm in his, they left for the beach.

On the way, they saw a neko who had been a resident at the Shelter. Both were happy that she had not perished. Discovering that she had found a safe permanent home, they continued to the beach. Even in the cloak of night, assorted beings were engaged in drinking, making out, sparring, and simple social networking. Ethan looked over the scene and narrowed his eyes at the many drawn weapons. Turning to Brit, he touched the guns at his side and gestured, “You see, baby, this is why you need weapons at the ready. You never know when you will walk into a scene like this one.” Nodding toward the skiff docked on the end of the pavilion, he grumbled, “Let us continue.”

Nearing the edge of the pavilion floating in the water, Ethan grabbed Brit who was standing on the edge and jumped across to the skiff with one powerful leap. Brit squealed in delight at sailing through the air and collapsed into giggles as they landed. “Do it again, please!” she exclaimed. Her giggles caused a few astonished looks from those piloting the skiff.

Ethan nodded a greeting to each as he whispered, “Maybe, if you are a very good girl, later.” Brit’s giggles quieted as she too gave a nod to each one, but did not wish to interrupt Ethan’s meeting with them. Most of the crew were cloaked. As usual, one stood in front keeping most of his exterior from being seen less for his long, sharp fingernails. The being’s hand extended in a greeting and was shaken by Ethan. “You are dependable as always, old friend,” Ethan said. “Your services are much appreciated.” Quiet conversation continued as Brit dangled over the side hoping to perhaps see a fish even though she knew none ever swam so close to the city.

After Ethan’s conversation ended, the crew handed over two boxes. Ethan gave an envelope to the man in the front, which was as usual. Receiving an envelop in return was not expected, and Ethan gave a troubled look as it was placed into his hand. Tucking it quickly away, Ethan walked to the edge looking to where Brit peered over the side of the boat. To all present, she started with a barrage of questions and comments as she stopped searching for fish. "How far do you go before fish are around? Have you ever seen a fish as big as the boat? In the library, I saw a picture of an octopus...it was swallowing the boat!" Brit’s eyes grew wide with the telling of the picture. Seeing all simply watching her, she went silent. Puffing her cheeks slightly, she looked to the shore and to Ethan wondering when it would be time to get off the boat oblivious to the raised eyebrow that Ethan was given.

Ethan turned toward the crew looking to each one with narrowed eyes. “Did you not hear the lady’s questions?” Picking Brit up, he asked, “How far out before you see fish? How big was the biggest one that you have seen?” Brit did not notice that his eyes continued to grow darker as he asked. Again, to her delight, he leaped across to the floating pavilion and held her waiting for their answers.

The sailor nearest to them turned and answered dutifully, “It takes about two hours of a journey south until fish are seen again. Whales are not uncommon off of these shores; and the biggest was bigger than our boat. No octopus of that size has ever been sighted though.” The sailor turned as if in a trance. Brit listened attentively to the answer and politely thanked the sailor. Turning to Ethan, she grinned to him for the brief jump through the air before looking to the boxes, wondering what was inside, and musing why he did not simply have items brought over on the ferry. Ethan’s thoughts answered that some things could not be easily transported and he did not trust just anyone with other items such as foods that she would consume. Picking up the boxes, Ethan motioned her to follow him back to the Shelter.

Once there, Ethan moved the bigger of the two crates to a place where he had others. Opening it, he carefully checked the contents while she dangled over his shoulder to see. He grinned at her curiosity. “Ethan,” she asked. “Have you….have we other homes?” Her mind wondered from where the items came. “Places maybe where you once lived?” Brit wondered why she had never thought to ask him before.

After checking the contents of the box, Ethan turned pulling her close for a lingering kiss. The kiss deepened for a moment before he remembered that it was his duty to keep her curiosity sated. Breaking the kiss, he replied, “There are several places where I have resided, Brit. Places in Europe where I hold the deeds. Some of them have secured storage facilities or they are accessible to a certain group of few and selected individuals of my kind.” He watched her carefully ensuring she understood. Seeing his duty fulfilled, he pulled her close again brushing his fingers lightly over her skin.

Brit asked, “Maybe…maybe….one day we could visit other places and you could show me where you used to reside?” Ethan’s arms wrapped tighter around her lower waist pulling her to paste against him. Her fingers traced along his sides and looped behind his neck where she touched his unbound hair. Ethan hinted a smile at her growing curiosity about his past. The night before, she had whispered, “I am always curious of you.” Her curiosity without reason warmed him.

“We can do that, baby.” Wrapping his arms around her, he nodded again as if deciding something for both of them. “We should start in a Greece.” His voice sounded distant for a moment as he added, “It would be not far from the place where I was born either.” Ethan’s had rubbed the small of her back gently and he added, “We can do that in the near future. He leaned in for another sensual kiss before letting her breathe once more. There is something that has been troubling me though. Seeing her eyes widen that he might be troubled, he said, “Just recent events. The reasons the two of us have spent so much time in the Shelter, Brit.” His voice trailed off seeming to search for words or a proper way to put it. Ethan all but burst out with, “I am of the opinion that giving you a weapon of proper proportions and style befitting a lady and my beloved would be of interest. And, of course, I would teach you to use it.” He looked down and peeked up almost like a schoolboy admitting to his parents that he broke their prized vase.

Brit’s expression was pure astonishment. “A weapon? Like a REAL weapon?” Her mossy green eyes were huge. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she asked, “But…Ethan…what… What if I hurt someone with it? You know…like…hurt…them.” Blinking more, she processed. “Ladies…use weapons?” she asked curiously.

Tilting his head at her last question, he said, “Well, darling. I would think that most of the women you know in this city outside of the library carry them, use them, and quite often harm others with them.”

Brit processed while continuing to dangle from around his neck. One thought flittered to be replaced by another. “Ethan, you never think of most ladies as um ladies.” Since she was now more in tune with his thoughts, she had been rather surprised at his thoughts at times. Some were rather shocking! “Like….Marie Antoinette,” she lisped. Ethan blinked before coughing politely and he wiped his mind of the thought that formed regarding that particular lady. Brit caught the glimpse of the thought and her eyes widened!

Ethan raised an eyebrow and grinned thinking she was obviously getting a better education in seeing what was not said than she would have ever gotten from any book. He replied, “Well, baby. It depends mostly on their manners and ways of behaving. That has nothing to do with the choice of carrying weapons. In fact, at one time, such were combined with their outfits. Like a proper accessory.” He smoothed a tendril of her hair caressing her cheek gently before continuing, “In a large portion of history, it was quite proper, and very ladylike, for young ladies to be educated in the art of fencing. Just as it was for them to be educated in music and making conversation with guests. It kept their bodies trained and their senses alert. Really…much like when we played tag.”

Ethan could see her process and hear her concerns. He reassured her, “Brit, should the need arise and you need to defend yourself, you could buy just enough time for me to arrive or for you to come to me with a few subtle moves. Not actually hurting someone you see. But keeping them distanced from you.” Her recent encounter with the lycan crossed his mind. “Just to buy you time, if needed," he said reassuringly.

It was much for her to process. Brit had always thought of the games they played, like Tag, as simply a fun game of chase. She never thought it would have other purposes. Kissing her on the forehead, he opened a second box and ran his hand along the object inside. Brit lisped, “So…learn like Tag…for exercise?” She nodded slowly to show she understood.

Ethan pulled a long, case from the box. He wiped the packing materials from it and said, “I was thinking of a blade by the way. Small enough to be an epee, which is a fencing blade. Just…well…one of my personal collection.” Ethan opened the case.

“Like a knife?” Brit asked while trying to see inside.

Ethan unsheathed the sword. “Well, not quite a knife.” Brit could see the bright shine of the blade in the amber light of the Shelter hallway. “It is quite elegant, I think, and if used correctly.” The blade obviously held memories for Ethan as he turned the sword looking it over as if seeing an old friend he had not expected to return. “I have had this blade in my possession since the 17th century, Brit.” Ethan continued to carefully examine it while he spoke, “I requested it to be sharpened before having it brought to us.”

The sword was bright and shiny. Details on the pommel included an intricate silver skull. “In the 17th century,” she repeated. “Before Marie Antoinette…like…when Charles the second was king of England.” Ethan smiled seeing that she was beginning to develop a sense of when events occurred. He nodded. “It was yours,” Brit said smiling warmly. Then her smile faded and her eyes grew huge with wonderment, “You did not perish anyone with it, did you?”

Ethan shifted his weight uncomfortably for a moment before giving her a sweet kiss of encouragement. “I do not recall ending anyone’s existence with it, Brit. I do recall using it as a training weapon and in gentleman sports.” With a shrug, he said, “Fencing definitely was considered a noble way of resolving conflict, but often ended at first blood. That means whoever drew blood first from the other wins. Not a fight to the death.” Ethan skipped over that a dagger or other blade was often used for coup de grace moments.

He watched her admire the sword and could sense that she found it beautiful. Ethan’s chest fell as if he exhaled happy that she seemed taken with his gift. “I’m glad that you find it pleasing.” She smiled nodding up at him. “Fencing is a specific way of sword fighting. There are rules of engagement, quite proper, and usually betrayed someone’s noble upbringing. You see, anyone could learn to fence if they had a master to teach them, but noble families always….” Ethan’s eyes grew slightly dark for a hint of a moment. “Noble families always ensured one was available to teach their own.”

Ethan’s hand reached for hers, and he turned her as if in a dance with his free hand so that she faced away, and he guided her back against him. Kissing her hair, he raised her hand and wrapped her fingers around the grip ensuring her hold was proper. Brit gingerly touched the blade with her free hand. It’s razor sharpness caused her to pull away fast, but then she brought her finger to the flat surface and slowly traced down the length of the blade. He repeated that he would teach her all she needed to know. Ethan watched her turn the sword so that the light would catch it causing her to pause as the shine mesmerized her. Perhaps, he thought, she would lose some distractibility by its use and could react faster when needed.

“It’s beautiful. Ethan, thank you.” She kissed him while holding the sword so that the tip was pointed down. Ethan’s arms wrapped so one rested on her tummy and the other on her forearm that held the blade. He could not help but muse that these lessons could bring far more pleasure than any payment from teaching noble brats. When she finished looking over the blade, he readjusted her hand on the grip ensuring that she held the sword perfectly.

Brushing her hair to the side, he said, “At the very least, we shall arrange your hair in a pony tail so that it does not hinder you.” His fingers left her tummy to brush back her tresses. “Mayhaps with some ribbons in it, as well.” He also made a mental note to engage Destany in proper fencing attire for her. Not like the sterile modern day garments, but such as what might be worn in days when fencing was commonly seen. His hand returned to her tummy, and the hand on her sword arm extended to her wrist. Slowly, he adjusted her posture noting that her graceful stand was a natural start. He brought her sword hand slowly to her chin. “First, you would present arms to your opponent in an official match by bringing the hilt to your chin…like this.” He moved his head from side to side ensuring again that the posture was perfect. Grinning, he pressed lips to her ear and said low, “Très bon.” Realizing she would not know what he had said, he moved his lips to her ear and whispered, “Very good.”

Brit allowed him to position her. Her body was relaxed and her mind attentive. His mind briefly remembered others he had helped learn this art. Ethan sensed that she feared the weapon, and gave her a reassuring squeeze. Her flesh tingled where he held her, and from his whispered words of encouragement. She moved her feet as he instructed and her stance resembled a ballerina more than a fencing opponent. It was graceful with one foot angled to the other. Brit pressed his body and she moistened her lips. The sword was not heavy to her and she could not help but notice how it shimmered as it moved.

Ethan admired her graceful form and found no need for adjustment. His fingers traced down her body as if to check her alignment and stance. Kissing her neck, he whispered, “A natural talent.” His body moved hers slowly into an ‘en garde’ stance, before moving her back to present and into en garde again ensuring she could follow the motion. His words were low and soft as he guided her from one position to the other, “Fencing, opposed to other forms of melee combat is very much based on benefits of grace in one’s movements: An element of which you possess in abundance.” Her eyes blinked as she moved with the grace of a dancer from upright to a guarded stance. Ethan could not help but think that her hours of dancing in the studio were paying off. She held still for him to inspect her posture. Seeing him nod approval, she laid her head upon his shoulder and looked up kissing him sensually by resting her free hand on his cheek. Returning to proper form, her back was straight with a slight arch that would have clearly demonstrated her lithe form had she not been dressed in her trenchcoat.

Ethan repeated the action, making sure to move slightly more swift with each repetition. As she did when resting her hands on his to play the pipe organ in the church, her mind linked and she followed his movement. His arm guided hers to extend in time with her leg moving forward to balance her body. Ethan murmured, “Extend,” and the tip of the sword touched an imaginary foe as Ethan’s voice instructed softly, “And…touch.” He held the position feeling her body pressed against his. He tightened his hold on her and whispered, “Then, back again” as he pulled her to the starting stance of en garde.

Both stood still for a few moments and were keenly aware of the nearness of the other. Once Brit had processed the sequence, she slowly repeated taking the initiative. He resisted pressing his cheek against her less he mar her fluidity of motion. Watching their image in the window, he followed her motion allowing his body to check her form. In the window’s reflection, they moved together as if she were attached to him in 100 different points. Brit paused at each position allowing for small corrections and waited for his nod to move to the next step. Holding the touch, she felt him press her closer to him. “It’s like dancing.” He nodded running his hand over her side under the guise of checking her stance.

Moving again against her, Ethan motioned for her to continue. “It is indeed like dancing,” he said moving with her as she moved through the basic positions. “Present. En garde, lunge, thrust, touch, and back to engarde.” His voice whispered softly as they cycled through again. Another cycle in silence. “Deadly dancing sometimes, but still requiring grace and elegance, which you possess.” His hands continued to touch her lightly as they moved through the sequence. At each point, Ethan was keenly aware of Brit’s body and corrected even the slightest of errors in her form. “It will also keep you fit,” his voice continued to softly instruct. “In time, it will keep you safe. I hope…you will not be disturbed by it, Brit.”

Lowering the sword, she turned slightly and tilted her head. “It’s a wonderful gift, Ethan. Thank you.” Her smile was warm and her care in the way she held the sword showed she understood it was a precious gift. He kissed her. Closing her eyes, she processed all he had taught and said. “Ethan,” she whispered with a hint of apprehension. “I never wish to perish anyone.”

Returning the kiss, he said, “You are most welcome. I do enjoy giving you things from my past. For there is history in them. They are not merely objects.” Caressing her face before cupping her cheek, he tilted her lips up and caught her gaze. “You are my one and only, and I want you protected. I understand you would not willingly try to take a life, but as I said…” Seeing her eyes widen, he stopped to watch her. With a reassuring smile, Ethan kissed Brit again. “But as I said, this is mostly for exercise.” She nodded and he grinned kissing softly. “You did well on your first hint of a lesson, my love.”

“No one perishes from exercise,” she said more for herself than for him. Ethan remembered a countess who perished in a fencing lesson due to a corset, indulgence of alcohol and sweets, and intense summer heat. Brushing the thought away, he said, “Quite so. And, if the need for you to run arises…such as if someone were blocking your path, I am sure that we shall find a way to teach you just where to swing this blade so to give them a little ache….surely not perishing them.” He kissed her again with his eyes flashing for a moment thinking of such a situation. “Do not worry, Brit. I am not trying to turn you into a body guard. You have me for that.”

Brit nodded understanding that she would not perish another with her new gift. Turning, she took both of his hands pulling him along to the resting place where she could place the sword in the chest with her more treasured belongings. He stroked her hair while she arranged for the sword to be organized as if it was always meant to be there. Standing, she pressed close and kissed him with all of the love she felt within. Ethan returned it knowing that should she need to get away, the culprit would pray for coup de grace in the end.

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.