17: Love & Grief Hold Hands

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Four Years Ago

"What are you doing?"

Lillian did not lift her head to acknowledge the presence of her sister who was standing nervously on the threshold of her chambers. The hour was late and if their rooms hadn't been adjoined, Millie would not have heard Lillian's restless movements that was indicative of her sibling's alertness. Instead, Lillian swung the fur-lined coat over her shoulders and fastened it closed at the base of her neck, tugging the hood over her brown hair and fixing the long braid to drape over her shoulder.

"Lillian," Millie said when it became obvious her sister held no intention of acknowledging her question. It was odd yet that her sister was firstly awake and secondly- her mood.

Blackness hung heavily over her beautiful brow, drawing her gracefully arched lines together in a scowl of harshness that was so unnatural on her normally aloofly composed sister's face. It made Millie uneasy- her intuition warning her that Lillian was in a foul mood.

When she knelt on the floor beside her bed and pulled from under the wooden frame her large, ornately carved crossbow, Millie almost bolted forward and grabbed it from her hands. She knew better, though. Lillian, being older, taller and stronger, would easily best her in a tussle and today was no exception with her darkening temperament.

"Tell me," Lillian said at last as she secured the weapon to her back by means of a leather harness strapped across her torso, "have you heard from your Peter, sister?"

At the name, Millie warmed giddily and she suppressed the smile that threatened to curl her lips, sure that whatever foulness was besieging her sibling would not welcome any silly notions of infatuation on her behalf. She felt herself besotted with the gentleman; the charming, handsome Peter Trafford who had proceeded to woo her the past season and, quite literally, sweep her off her feet. She was sure he was to propose, especially after the night prior, and a warm blush crept up her cheeks at the memory.

"Not since the day before," she said, admiration and cheerfulness injected into her tone. She couldn't help it- being with Peter made her feel like every part of her body came alive, every moment with him was new and titillating-

"He called here today," Lillian said flatly, turning away once more while her fingers worked ceaselessly at the buckles of her harness.

"Oh." Millie frowned thoughtfully and she came inside the chamber to place herself on the edge of her sister's bed. "But I was in residence-"

"He called upon me."

Millie did not say anything to that though her confusion was apparent on her countenance. Lillian had stopped fidgeting finally and turned to her sister, her eyes so very cold and hard as they caught and retained the flames of the oil lamps lit about the chamber.

"He proposed, Millie."

"He did?" There was a numbing cloud settling heavily on her mind, running parallel with the confusion, and she could not think for it. Why would Peter talk to her sister and not her father about marriage? Perhaps he knew of the closeness of their relationship and sought approval from Lillian first to ensure good standing between himself and his future sister-in-law. "Why did he speak to you and not father about our engagement-"

Her mouth hung open uselessly when Lillian's hands spanned the sides of her face, drawing her words to a brusque halt on the tip of her tongue and forcing their gazes to meet. She thought she saw contrition flash through Lillian's eyes but it was fleeting and the hardness so consuming and cold it was all Millie could find herself aware of. "Not for your hand, Millie. He wants mine- he wanted mine all along."

And just like that, Millie felt her heart shatter and her chest constrict with an ache unlike anything she had felt before, even as she shook her head at the betrayal her mind denied but her heart knew to be true. "He wouldn't," she whispered. "Tell me you are lying." But Millie knew that Lillian would never lie to her. They were closer than sisters, best friends, with only each other in a cruel and calculating society- both of them had formed relationships in the past with people they had deemed trustworthy and supportive only to be spurned by the unwholesome truth of their alliances as their characters were revealed. Both sisters knew that the only relationship grounded in faith and trust was the one in that very chamber.

"Do not cry," Lillian berated in a stony voice, though her thumb swiped across the apple of Millie's cheek in a deceptively tender gesture. "He does not deserve your tears, sister."

Her fingers were curling into fists in her skirts, her nails biting into the skin of her palms. "He cared naught for me, did he? The useless second sister-"

"Curb your tongue, now is not the time for harsh words," Lillian told her coolly. Then she straightened and smoothed the front of her cloak. "What you suspect is correct- but we are used to deceit and betrayal, this is no different. You need to steel your emotions, Millie. This will not be the last time someone disappoints you, that a dream is stolen from you. If you had not told me that just last night you invited him to your bed-"

Millie held up a hand abruptly, grimacing at the bile that rose to the back of her tongue. Memories that had filled her with warmth and pleasantness were now tainted, and along with the hurt of her betrayal came the utter rage at being made a fool of. "Stop, I cannot bear to think of my stupidity-"

"There is a tonic you can drink to prevent conception. If I have not returned by the morning, seek out Angela in the kitchens- she will assist you discreetly."

"Where are you going?" Millie demanded suddenly, rising to her feet. Lillian backed away and made for the open door of her chamber.

"You should not concern yourself, I will return-"

"Lillian!" Millie grasped her hand as she made to bolt from the chamber, holding her firm.

"Millie, desist!" She turned to her almost viciously, yanking her arm free. "I am going to pay Lord Trafford a visit. By God, your stupidity could send this family's name through the dirt and back. Alliances within parliament could be jeopardised- you know that father's appeals are tenuous and reliant on his good standings with prominent families- families who would turn their backs on us in an instant if anyone were to discover that bastard found his way between your legs!"

Millie recoiled, each word stinging her almost as viciously as the betrayal of her lover. "It is late, surely-"

"He may need convincing to keep his mouth shut," Lillian bit out. "After my subsequent rejection today, he will be aware that his ties to the Ravensfield sisters have been severed. I will not doubt for one moment that he is the vindictive sort and will tell whoever is willing to listen of his conquest. I will return shortly, but if I am not back by morning for whatever reason- you must not let anyone know I have paid him a visit."

Though she was reluctant to release her hold on her sister, Millie knew that she would. Lillian was older, conditioned to become the next duchess of Ravensfield, and as such she had matured into adopting a cold and calculating veneer when tackling problems of any nature. For a long time yet their carefree childhood had been buried in the past, and more often than not Millie bowed to Lillian's dictates.

So she released her and her sibling turned away from her without a word, her jaw set in a formidably stubborn line as she traipsed silently away.

Millie's last view of her sister was of her receding back as she disappeared into the shadows down the hall, the cloak billowing behind her.

She did not return to Ravensfield that morning.

She did not return to Ravensfield at all.

» ⌘ «

"Damn it all, Kaede!" Blayne hissed, and she felt his arms sweep about her and pull her against his solid chest.

"Me?" the other man protested indignantly. "Caëlhon formulated this theory, not I!"

"Has she not been through enough?" he snapped, his voice a low rumble through his chest against her cheek, and Millie inhaled deeply to calm her tattered and fraying emotions.

The twins' revelation had invoked a deep-set panic. Just the thought of losing Blayne, the man who had become so intrinsically linked to her in the course of four short days, made her heart squeeze so painfully she thought she would suffocate for it. Loss seemed to follow her closely, hollow shadows of memory lingering just behind her shoulder, and Millie was not sure she could withstand more of it. Brutal tears stung her eyes as fresh memories of Lillian and her father swamped her mind, both their losses always accompanied by the same feelings of guilt and fury.

If something were to happen to Blayne, she would not survive it. And it was so logically simple that she could be sure Theo would endeavour to end her husband's life- her faeborn husband- where minimal investigation and persecution would follow, not the sort of attention that would be given to him were he human.

You cannot leave me, she told him fiercely, trembling with the onslaught of that thought. She clutched at his shirt, her fingers twisting into the fabric as if anchoring herself to him- something firm and hot and tangible. Just the feel of him was enough to begin to soothe her fraying turmoil and his large hand cupped the back of her head, stroking her hair tenderly, soothingly.

For as long as I live, I do not intend to, he sent back. "Rogane, wine."

Moments passed before Blayne had coaxed her to partake of the sweet liquid by pressing the lip of an earthenware cup to her lips. I can feel the wildness of your heart and pulse, he told her silently. You are trembling. The wine will help calm you.

She did not protest. By now she knew the palpable reactions her body was capable of when her emotional turmoil became too much to endure or fend off. Before Blayne entered her life, her anguish was locked away until bits seeped through tenuous cracks- and those she could manage, small moments of despair that caused a brief onslaught of bitter tears- but as more time passed after her father's demise, the harder it became.

And she had been naïve to believe that marrying him would solve the problem of Theo. Why would he simply leave her and Ravensfield alone once she had acquired a husband and secured her inheritance? Considering all he was willing to do in order to claim it, Millie would need to reconsider her assessment of Theo's capabilities.

If he intended to harm Blayne, then she would ensure every front was covered. She would plan, prepare, anticipate- as long as she lived, nothing would befall the beastkeeper she had married.

Her eyes found his luminous gaze while she took another sip of the wine, her skin warming almost instantly with its consumption. The locks of his long hair hung thickly over his shoulders, one side of has face delineated with fine lines of amber luminescence as it caught the light from the fire. The fingers at the back of her head dipped through the strands of hair at the base of her skull, stroking the skin of her neck soothingly, drawing her attention to the gesture as if a weight had been placed on that spot.

"There will be no more talk of this tonight," Blayne said with quiet authority. Whether he meant his words for her, or the others, Millie wasn't sure. "The new moon has passed- it is a cause for celebration, for renewing our strengths and recalling our successes. It is a time for celebrating new beginnings and moving forward into the next cycle." Gently, he released her and pressed the cup of wine into her hands, but kept her close to his side by draping his arm about her waist and his tail intimately about her leg closest to his. He turned to his companions gathered uncertainly about the fire and there was a grin on Blayne's face- a swarthy, good-natured, boyishly proud grin that almost alleviated most of her fears. Almost. "I am married, lads. This beautiful, tempestuous woman is mine, and therefore one of us. We should make her feel like she is."

She had more riches and wealth than she knew what to do with, she owned more than one property or expanse of land across the country, and others, and every need and desire in her young life had always been met. Yet Blayne's words made her feel more coveted and rarer than anything she had ever owned.

"Blayne is right," Rogane said, drawing her thoughts away from her husband. An easy smile curled his lips and he swept a hand over the area before them. "There is indeed much to celebrate. Sit, and while we prepare some food I am sure Kaede and Caëlhon will entertain you for hours yet of our exploits in the wilderness." He moved between the twins, simultaneously slapping them upside the head as he did so. "Won't you, boys?"

Both brothers rubbed the back of their heads and threw the other man a reproachful look. "I don't see why we are getting the blame," Caëlhon grumbled.

"No one is blaming anyone," Rogane said flippantly, gesturing towards the cottage. "There are vegetables that need peeling and meat that needs preparing however."

"Hope you like your steak burnt," Kaede grumbled petulantly as he began to head inside with Caëlhon.

"Don't worry," Rogane told Millie with a wink. "They are merely sore that they don't have a pretty bride to warm their beds this evening."

"Aye, is that so?" Kaede tossed back over his shoulder. "At least we have opportunities. The tide won't even take you out, Rog."

Caëlhon barked with laughter at his brother's quip and Rogane swore at their backs, though there was a good-natured smile on his face when he turned back to Blayne. "See? Normality restored."

They made good on their word and 'normality' was indeed restored for the rest of the evening, though what sort of normalcy played out before her had never been witnessed by Millie in her short life before.

The men shared stories, reminiscing of times past and amusing anecdotes they had learnt through the years- like never approach a chodotid from behind unless you wish to be covered in hallucinogenic fungal spores, or not to step on a deceptively leaf-like creature called a halcoon during wet weather unless you wish any exposed skin to break out in warts- while they prepared the food and shared their drink. The stars shone brightly from the heavens and the pixies danced and glowed and chirruped happily about the flames of the fire.

There was laughter, so much of it, and the husky, boyish sounds must have echoed far and wide through the boughs of the trees surrounding them. The men seemed to take pleasure in riling each other up, especially the twins, and as the night wore on, Millie slowly began to piece bits of information to form a unified picture of the beastkeepers, or how they came to be at least.

Just like she had heard the rumours of a faeborn male who resided in the woods alone, so far removed and isolated from human settlements that it was considered impossible to locate him even if one had a guide, who was responsible for defeating all manners of terrifying creatures and keeping cities and villages safe from their presence- so too did Rogane, Kaëde and Caëlhon.

The other Draëllians only desired to be unified to their own kind and considering that there were so few of them that had been ripped from their world to this one, it was understandable that they longed to find their own. It was only when they found Blayne that they began to utilize their rare and specific ability- the tempering of the wildest natures, the profound adherence even the most wicked beast had to their will.

When the hour grew late, the combination of a full stomach and a lot of wine played heavily to her weariness and she felt herself listing against Blayne's shoulder, the sounds of soft laughter and convivial voices lulling her into a comfortable doze. She was hardly aware that her eyes had drifted shut entirely until he lifted her into his lap and tucked her against his chest where the deep rumble of his voice and laugh seemed to consume her solely.

Do not take me to bed, she told him when she felt him shift, I wish to remain here with you.

As you wish. His lips brushed against the top of her head and Millie allowed herself to fall into a deep sleep nestled in his arms.

» ⌘ «

A silence settled over the remaining company gathered as Blayne lifted his head, the woman in his arms breathing heavily and deeply against him as she slept. He could tell by the lightness of her thoughts, the gentle intrusion against his mind that was peaceful and calm- a mild static of awareness that she was constantly and intrinsically linked to him.

He caught Rogane's eye across the flames. "Don't-"

But it was Kaede who spoke- hot-headed and impetuous to a fault yet. "You endanger us all."

"Mind your words, Kaede."

"There is talk- the forest always watches, always knows," Kaede went on determinedly. "You covet her above all else. Your regard for her is blatant."

"Kaede!" Rogane growled.

Blayne glanced down at his bride, but she rested undisturbed yet, before glaring at the other man. "Have you any idea who she is? What power she wields?"

"She could wield our destruction and she is scarcely aware of it."

Caël placed a reassuring hand on his brother shoulder, his face impassive and calm against the backdrop of shadows behind him. "Desist, brother," he told him softly. "Have you forgotten the mark? They are chosen- this path, whatever may happen- we are compelled to walk beside them. An ordinance from Draë."

"Whatever you may choose to feel, Millie is an innocent in all of this," Blayne said softly. "We have been marked- whatever my fate and my personal feelings for the human, I cannot deny that significance. Our fates are tied and I am bound to her. When the courts deem our marriage valid, I will return with her to London to claim what is rightfully hers. Beyond that, I have little knowledge why our god has chosen to play this hand, but your concern should not be directed at her or what she is. I have seen her, I know her..."

"She is still human, Blayne," Caël pointed out with a timid smile. "You can not blame Kaede his caution, especially after her reaction to what her cousin may do to you. There are only four Draëllians that we know of in this world."

"With this union, perhaps more in the near future." Rogane gave Blayne a wink. "Why dwell on the cons of the situation? Perhaps our god is impatient to see more of our kind in this world-"

"Human and draë," Kaede snorted, a muffled laugh escaping him at that. "The child better have Draëllian abilities... otherwise it will be a useless human with a tail."

"Let us face one hurdle before we bring young into this world," Blayne added.

"The human is remarkably beautiful," Caël commented, his gaze intent on Millie's face that was pressed against his chest. She was snuffling gently- a soundless snore of content- and felt soft and warm in Blayne's arms, continuing her slumber undisturbed while posing as the topic of their conversation. The few days in his care had shown vast improvements to her pallor- her skin flushed with warmth from spending the last two days outdoors and well-fed. He had never witnessed a man put away as much food as Millie had that evening. "Perhaps she has sisters-"

"Dead, as far as I am aware," Blayne murmured, hoping not to stir her awake at this line of conversation. "There is grief and loss when Millie thinks of her sister. I do not believe you need to stray close to the same lineage as my bride if a human mate is what you seek."

The dryness of his tone at his last sentiment, injected to dissipate the levity of the former, made all three men chuckle.

"Perhaps we will wait to discover how events unfold for you before we venture into the same waters, brother," Rogane told him archly.

"You will find me embracing the currents," he returned and carefully rolled to his feet with Millie in his arms. "If you will excuse me-"

"It is not yet dawn!" Kaede sputtered incredulously, brandishing his flagon of wine about in his astonishment. "You mean to retire with your bride, leaving us to our own devices?"

"Are you implying we are incapable of functioning without our fearless leader?" Rogane remarked wryly.

"I assure you, I am hardly fearless," Blayne muttered.

"I mean, he is clearly favouring his bride over us," Kaede said, feigning hurt as he held his palm over his bare chest for effect. "Where are we to sleep? What are we to do?"

"Wouldn't you favour a pretty bride over us?" Caël chuckled heartily.

"Do whatever you wish and sleep in the dirt- you have before," Blayne told them. "My wife needs warmth and comfort, which is my concern. You are free to do as you wish considering my endeavours the night prior."

And with that, Blayne left his companions about the fire.

The hearth was lit with dying coals when he began to lower Millie into their pallet, a chill that could penetrate and cling to human bones prevalent and heavy within the confines of the cottage, and she began to stir restlessly, her arms sliding up his shoulders as he placed her into the furs.

Please stay with me.

He hadn't intended anything else but her words brought an unconscious smile to his face. Before he climbed into the pallet behind her, he coaxed her from the coat she wore and the boots on her feet, and stripped the shirt from his shoulders. Then he curled his body around hers, noting the faint shiver that traversed through her and the soft words of contentment filtering through her unprotected mind as she nuzzled into the muscle of his shoulder.

And he knew that there was very little he wouldn't do for her, that even while she slept, he kept awake and alert until he could be certain that all was well before he allowed himself rest, that this human woman had tumbled into his life and changed everything he knew and torn it asunder, splitting the fabric of his existence as if he were the silk and she the blade.

He knew they would have to sew the pieces back together, and the thread would alter the material they were both familiar and comfortable in knowing.

But, as his arms tightened slightly about her and the warmth from her body, her essence, suffused with him, Blayne knew that he was already altered.

Unchangeably so.