Ethan had taken Brit to dinner and conversed while she ate. He marveled over the dress she had selected for the evening. Though far more revealing than he would have selected, Ethan had to admit that the dress was not without charm. Upon entering the room, he was reminded of Byron’s poem. During dinner, Ethan whispered the poem to her and feigned eating. He had taken her to the mainland to escape the turmoil caused by the priests that had returned to the city. His voice recited, “She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and light meet in her aspect and her eyes.”
“That’s pretty,” Brit lisped. “Ethan, maybe we could try a restaurant that has things served in paper. Sometimes, it is fast to get things in paper, and then we can go dance sooner.” Noticing his frown, she ventured further, “I mean….I am the only one who eats…and we both dance.” They sat silently for a moment. Seeing his fingers tap on his wine glass that had not lost even a drop of wine, she ate a glazed carrot.
“Do you not enjoy our dinner conversations, Brit?” he asked raising one eyebrow. She puffed her cheeks and he could see her thoughts. Patting her hand, he said, “It is kind of you to think of me, but I rather enjoy our evening chats.” She smiled seeing that he understood. Picking up her hand, he kissed it before giving it a soft pat and motioning for her to take another bite. The wine touched his lips, but he did not drink. Instead, he continued, “Thus mellow’d to that tender light which heaven to gaudy day denies.” Brit listened to the words that he softly recited, and told him that she liked his poems and the pictures they painted.
Ethan stopped after the first stanza of Byron’s poem and watched her as she finished dinner. Though he made all indications that he was listening intently to what she said, Ethan had another agenda this night. Of late, he had taken to using their mental connection, which had grown stronger through the regular feedings, to experience things he had long forgotten. Earlier, though she had dressed, he could feel her body’s hunger. The gnawing feeling in her abdomen that grew more prominent. It was unlike his desire for blood, but had similar components. Tonight, he decided, he would feel her drift to sleep. The only trouble was that his wife had far more energy than most, and so he decided that dancing would help her fall asleep earlier, so he could observe her mental and physical changes.
After dinner, he led her to a quiet place pulling her to him. Wrapping his arms around her, he danced closely to music that played somewhere near. His mind linked with hers and watched. Now that she had eaten, she was enjoying the physical motion of dancing. Did he enjoy the physical movement as she does when he was human? He was unsure and truthfully did not recall. Pulling her close again, he turned her and let her slide away from him. When her fingertips were all that was touching him, he kissed her hand and pulled her against him again. Keeping her near him, he whispered to her, “One shade more, one ray less, Had half inpair’d the nameless grace which waves in every raven tress or softly lightens o’er her face. Where thoughts serenely sweet express how pure, how dear their dwelling place.”
Brit processed the words blinking rhythmically. He could see that she knew the poem was about a woman. Brit’s mind continued to process. He saw that she envisioned a lady in a sparkly black dress with black hair. She missed some of the contrasts so beloved by the Romantic era authors and their fascination with twilight to night in the murky darkness of mysticism. She only saw someone in love who thought his lover was perfect. Ethan smiled stroking Brit’s hair and feeling such sentiments could exist. He enjoyed her humanity and watched her thoughts picture the lady walking outside across where they were dancing with her black hair swaying in time to the music. Ethan desired to feel more of her human experiences.
Brushing his lips over her cheek and eyelid, he whispered, “And on that cheek, and o’er that brow so soft, so calm, yet eloquent, the smiles that win, the tints that glow, but tell of days in goodness spent.” In keeping with his plans, Ethan kept up a decent pace to the dancing and discussed the way the lady might have walked. Brit was becoming better at making connections though she struggled with inference. Finally, he received for what he had been waiting. Brit yawned. “Aw, I’ve worn you out,” he said. Though she started to protest, he shook his head and said, “It is time we retire, I think…yes, I know it is still early, but yawning? No, you need rest.”
It did not take long for her to ready for bed. Ethan waited when she joined him. She could feel him within her mind. “I feel you near,” she said and he chuckled. Without saying a word, she knew that he wanted to feel her thoughts. Relaxing against him, she stretched and felt her eyes wanting to close. It was this that he wished to watch: Brit falling asleep.
As she started to drift, he saw images. Places they had been, things they had done together. She also had images of others for whom she cared. Nothing in her thoughts was harmful or hurtful. No negative thoughts flicked through her mind. He could feel her starting to fall asleep. It was a different feeling to him. Different from his going dormant when he rested. Ethan frowned realizing he did not recall that particular feeling when he was human. Her heart rate was slowing and her muscles relaxed. Ethan could feel it all.
Suddenly, Brit had a few small convulsions. Fleeting and barely perceptible. Her heart beat and breathing rate continued to decrease. Ethan wondered if they were letting her brain know by electrical pulses. He could feel Brit fall deeper into sleep sinking deeper in her mind and, like the images before, loving, innocent images formed basic dreams that she started to become more complex. Ethan pulled her to him, and she did not stir. He watched one image after another.
Brit’s dream was her dancing in the green dress she wore that night. It glowed slightly in the night and she watched him as she danced. Her mind focused on him. The way he felt when he touched her and when she touched him. Ethan smiled slightly feeling a bit odd at how absorbed she was. All thought surrounded him and the love she felt. He marveled how she saw him. Even though he had shared so much with her of his past, she obviously did not comprehend her husband as anything other than perfect.
Shaking his head slightly in bewilderment, Ethan watched one dream after another. Never anything unkind or untowardly. Brit obviously believed goodness in all beings. Ethan remembered the first time Brit invited him into her mind. She never closed her mind to him since that night. He continued to marvel at her guiless nature. But also knew that she had nothing to hide nor did she realize that hiding from people was something others did. Ethan’s arms tightened around Brit protectively. His lips brushed over her hair and he whispered, “A mind at peace with all below, a heart whose love is innocent!” As he too started to feel himself pulled into his daytime rest, Ethan wondered how Byron knew of his wife.
Lord Byron obviously has seen his wife in Ethan's visions of the future... even if he had not seen her himself. come to me muse...
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