February wound down with more cold and a few more snowfalls, but there was definitely a change in the air in early March. People were beginning to make solid plans for Spring Break while they crammed for mid-terms. Christian and Sebastian made a point of having dinner together at least once a week, and spent their Friday nights and Saturdays with one another. Valletta had permanently taken Audrey under her wing, and it seemed that unlikely friendship was blossoming. Zoe's temper toward Rei mellowed with Audrey having other preoccupations, and they were again attached at the hip. Lilly had not yet given Christian the go-ahead to return to the library, and had left town in something of a rush. This would have been troubling if she had not sent Christian a note saying that it had nothing to do with him, but some difficulties with her living arrangements. She also assured him that she had not forgotten her promise, but she needed to do some preparation first.
It was a warmer afternoon in those early days of March when Christian finally got back to Red House. He had just finished a grueling history exam, and had the rest of the evening clear. Sebastian was struggling with a lengthy French assignment, Rei and Lazzaro had plans, and Emmerich and Samir were nowhere to be found. He picked his way through melting slush and mud to make his way down the street with a minimum of puddle-hopping. His strength was still far from what it once had been, and he had a feeling it had everything with the strengthening bond he had with his soul's fragment. If he did visit in dreams, he had no memory of it, but he had vague impressions of cold or hunger or weariness. His wrists were also beginning to have a chafed look about them, to the point that he had taken to wearing wristwarmers just to avoid questions. This solution could not last, though, as the warming weather made winter clothing less necessary.
Sean was not behind the counter when Christian did get to the cafe, but Rebekkah was. Chattering gleefully, she led Christian through the kitchen and into the hallway. He went upstairs to Sean's apartment and tapped on the door. There was the sound of furniture being shoved around, and a great deal of swearing, and then the door popped open. Sean stood panting in the opening, sweaty, hair in disarray, and filthy, both with dirt and paint. His relief when he saw Christian was palpable, and he stepped aside to let him enter. The living room, which always had an air of highly organized clutter, looked as though several tornadoes had blown through. Sean waited for Christian to get out of his coat, then pounced.
"You have to help me." He dragged Christian to the smaller of the two bedrooms. It was completely empty, and its walls were a patchwork of different colors. "What sort of colors do small boys like?"
"I beg your pardon?" Christian was completely taken aback. Sean kept stepping from one side to the other, gauging the colors and how they looked from a variety of angles. "I like purples, but I hardly count as a small boy."
"What?! Oh, no, of course you don't." Sean stretched with his hands on the small of his back, grimacing when there was a small but firm pop. "No. It's Lilly. To be precise, it's her son. He's about five or six, and I
want his room to be ready for him."
"Slow down, cowboy." Christian stepped in front of him. "You skipped something there. Why does Lilly's son need a room?"
"Stupid!" Sean slapped his own forehead in disgust. "I meant to call you or send a note. With the state of things here, Lilly is inclined to move back to Arcadia, with her son. I've offered them a place to stay, and she has graciously accepted." Christian gaped, and Sean cleared his throat. "Well, what? She's an exceptional woman, and she's been single for several years."
"That's your only motive? Hoping that she'll accidentally fall into bed with you?" Christian asked, incredulous. Sean suddenly found a bit of blue paint on the back of his hand to be the most fascinating thing in the world. "Oh my lord, you already did? You've known each other for a few weeks, and now your setting up house?"
"She, er...well, she's an exceptional woman." He was beginning to bristle. "We may have used a bit of magic to skip some of the more awkward getting-to-know-you nonsense after the first few days. Look, you don't get to judge!" He dropped his arms to his sides, dejected. "I've been alone for a long time, and she's looking at a very long obligation to her Patron, and what are the odds either one of us is going to find someone else who is going to be around in five hundred years? It's just a bonus that we also happen to like one another enough that the differences don't matter as much."
"You two have eternity, and you're shacking up after a month? It just strikes me as a rush job." Christian shook his head. "As you pointed out, who am I to judge? I guess I'm happy for you. I don't know Lilly enough to be really delighted yet. Are you up for sudden fatherhood?"
"I don't know. I've never been the domestic sort. I spent all my time exiled or chasing after Mengde. I was hoping you'd be some kind of help with this whole boy's room thing. What do you and your brother like? Is blue a good color, or something else?" Sean began to pace, staring at the wall and its paint smears. "Lilly says he's a very bright little fellow. Maybe he'd like a mural or maps or something with planets and stars."
"I think that maybe he'd like to decorate his own room," Christian offered. "That gray is a nice neutral color, and he'll be able to use a lot of colors with it."
"Oh good. I do have that on hand. We painted the walls in the restrooms that color, and there was plenty left." Sean popped paint can lids until he found the one he wanted. "Are you busy? Would you mind helping me paint?"
"Not one bit. Now, you can tell me what you and Lilly could possibly have in common."
It turned out that they did have quite a few mutual interests beyond the occult and supernatural. The angry teenage girl with a mohawk had grown up into a severe woman with limited patience and a wealth of knowledge on a variety of arcane subjects, but primarily in demonology. She also had a substantial store of research on the hints and clues left throughout art, music, and literature over the centuries about what lay outside the world of light and sanity. Sean was eager to peruse her library, of course. They both enjoyed a wide variety of music, though she was still partial to her punk rock and Sean had a marked preference for speed metal at the moment. Sean seemed already to have given her his full loyalty, even after such a brief affair. Her first serious relationship had been pitfall-ridden, a fling with a somewhat older assistant in the Classics department that had turned into a miserable marriage that had produced two children and a deep-seated antipathy toward all potential permanent pairings. Her pregnancies had driven him to seek the comfort of other beds, and she had moved out shortly after their second son was born. He had not tried to find her or reconcile, and she was estranged from her firstborn. Sean spoke of this with some anger--he placed a high value on fidelity, and had no tolerance for those who would willing abandon their families, and it was clear that his feelings about Lilly's behavior were mixed. Christian listened patiently. He had a gut feeling that Sean was glad to finally have someone that he could talk to openly, who would be able to hear several lifetimes' worth of confessions and confidences without getting overwhelmed with the impossibility of his immortality.
It didn't take too long to paint the small bedroom, even with two coats and a break for a couple of beers. Christian washed up in the bathroom, noting the presence of decidedly more feminine shampoos and soaps on the shelf. It was hard to think of Sean as anything other than a perpetual bachelor, and he commented along those lines when he came out into the living room. Sean snorted from where he was stretched out on the sofa.
"I'll admit, I'm entrenched as a single man. I think I'm ready to try something new, and if that's with Lilly, then so be it." Sean pulled his hair into a somewhat neater knot. "She's entrenched as a single mother, after all. We're both putting ourselves at a disadvantage in this."
"You're not a reckless fool at this point," Christian said. "How do you like your odds in this?"
"The auguries are quite favorable. The astrology is positive, and every other oracle I've checked points in auspicious directions for us."
"I wouldn't have thought that you'd buy into all that stuff. Sebastian gives me grief for reading my horoscope every morning."
"Right, but you're a Taurus, right? You're going to cover your bases, even if that means taking a shot in the dark with a petty astrologer making broad guesses. I've been alive too long not to take the stars quite seriously." Sean got up and stretched. "I suppose you're ready to head back to campus."
"Do you want help moving furniture?" Christian looked around at the living room. It still looked a mess. Sean waved him off.
"I need to set some wards, double-check my feng-shui, make sure that the energy flows are stable and clean. Go and have a pleasant night."
It was the lurid daylight that made his eyes water. He became aware of himself waiting by the window, staring down into the courtyard below. His hands were curled lightly against the sharp edges of the stone, the slightest motion threatening to scrape skin and draw blood. His shoulder felt raw, as though he might have bumped into the wall. Far below, on the bulwark of the castle, the Queen in Black walked, her veils billowing and fluttering in the relentless wind. She kept her pace slow and even, to match the much shorter strides of the woman beside her. Small, hawkish, her robes danced with flames, or the memories and dreams of flames. Small smoldering footprints were left in her wake, the thin trails of smoke whisked away on the shifting winds. She seemed agonizingly familiar, even at that distance. Ah yes. The Witch. He moved uneasily, not noticing the bright blood welling up from fresh abrasions on his hands. He wondered if she was negotiating his freedom. She paused and glanced up at the tower, her eyes locking onto his even at that distance. He broke the eye contact after an agonizing minute, his head spinning in pain.
Miserable, he sat back down on his mat. He wondered if he could draw power at all. He knew the shackles kept him from doing any serious magicks, but perhaps even a slight draw was possible. It felt like there was a spider-silk thin flow from some distant source. Clearing his mind, emptying himself of all thought and feeling, he let that thin thread find its way in and through, trying to keep his emotions tempered as he felt power prickling through his fingertips, leaving a faint trace of soft pale purple in the air as he moved his hand. Eager, greedy for the strength that was filling him, he tried to draw more.
The runes on the shackles blazed white, burning him, and he lost the flow. Stupid. Stupid and greedy and foolish, he told himself.
But his heart soared. He was not completely powerless in this strange lonely place.
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