~ An Agonizing Farewell ~
Several hours after their return from House Verenthal, the Lord of the Keep and his chylde were relaxing on a settee facing the fireplace. Each had a snifter of blood-brandy which they savored as they discussed the night’s events. Since no one else was in the great hall, they spoke openly.
“So, my chylde, I think the evening went well. I did not notice at any time that Lord or Lady Verenthal were taken aback by our relationship or our display of such. There were at least two occasions where I kissed your cheek, you took my hand at one point, yet neither said a word or expressed any displeasure in their mannerisms.”
“I was thinking the same, my heart. For me, the deciding moment was when they had their sons come into the parlor and recite for us. Surely, if they had anything against our love, they never would have brought the twins near us.”
“Ah yes, the poets. What was it … Andronicus and …”
“Antonius.”
“Yes, Antonius. I found their sharing of lines and phrases intriguing. It felt like the one was reading the other’s mind. Quite entertaining. Even more so learning they had written the piece they recited. Inspiring, coming from lads still in their early teen years. Even if they had been clumsy and inane, they were a welcome break in the endless recounting of Verenthal wealth and influence.”
Gerik giggled. “Yes, I was rapidly becoming bored with Lord Verenthal’s endless boasting. Even his wife appeared frustrated with him near the end. I will say, for me to have been raised in such an environment and yet find the whole issue tiresome and dull is a bit surprising.”
“You enjoyed it then, during your early years?”
“No, though I certainly endured it with greater ease. Or mayhaps I simply blocked it out. I know there were times I would catch myself dreaming of far off places and simpler times. Yet I must confess I was impressed with the Verenthal dining parlor. The marble floor with the split and matching veins of color – and polished to the point of appearing to glow. A rather awesome sight even though I fear a spilled drink or any liquid on that floor would have spelled disaster on so highly polished a surface.” Gerik stood. “May I refresh your brandy, Sire?”
“Yes, thank you. I would agree on the room. Actually all of the rooms we saw were grand and quite noble in appearance. Without being overly dramatic or ostentatious.”
Gerik finished preparing their drinks and headed back across the room. “I would imagine the Lady of the house had a hand in that. She doesn’t seem the pretentious type. Odd, that she spends so much time with Mother who is completely the opposite. Your brandy, good sir.”
Stefano took the snifter and chuckled. “Such gallant service. It causes me to believe we spent a mite too much time in the presence of nobility such as what we have experienced this night.”
“I do wish they had spoken more of Mother and Father. Even if my parents shun us, my heart, they are still my parents.”
“I understand, beloved. Your heart has always been true and faithful with me. I would expect nothing less towards the people who gave you life.”
Gerik yawned behind his hand. “Forgive me. I suppose I am more tired than I had thought.”
“It was a long evening. But I believe a fruitful one. If we are correct in their acceptance of us, should they still hold friendship with your parents, mayhaps they will speak well of us. Possibly to reconsider their stand regarding our love.”
“I suppose.” Gerik stood again, finishing his drink. “I am ready to retire. The sun comes soon and I can use a good day’s sleep.”
“You go on ahead, my love. I wish to have a bit more brandy, plus I must quiet my own mind.”
“You still worry over your sire.”
“Yes. When Viktor told us after we arrived home that he had not had any contact with Vargon, it stressed me to the core. I need to sort through my feelings on the matter afore I will be prepared for sleep.”
“I could stay with you.”
“And I would love you for it. But you have already voiced your exhaustion. Please, do not worry for me. I will not delay in joining you. As you said, morning will arrive soon.” Stefano stood and kissed Gerik gently. “Rest well.”
“Thank you, love. Try not to worry over it; Lord Vargon is a proud man, but a loving one. He shall come around.” With that Gerik headed up to their room.
Stefano looked around the great hall and sighed. So much had happened over the recent nights, his mind was still awash with emotion and confusion. He carried their glasses to the bar, then walked towards the front door. Mayhaps a stroll and pipe. I must thank Lord Stonce again for his suggestion on tobac. And his gift of this pipe.
After packing and lighting his pipe, Stefano walked from the Keep, strolling slowly toward the stables just so he had a direction. He was almost to the stable doors when he heard it. Or felt it. A presence. He shivered as the voice sounded within his mind.
I need speak with you.
Stefano emptied his pipe, grinding any embers into the dirt with his heel. He slipped the pipe into a pocket in his overcoat as the voice hit him again.
I need speak with you.
Stefano answered in kind. Where are you? Let us speak where I can see you.
It is not wise. If Alpha Draxis should learn of it…
He is no more.
So then, I was right about his absence. Come south, I wait in the grove of Teakwood trees.
Stefano took off to the south, his steps quick. After only a few steps he broke into a run, his gaze locked on the distant grove. His mind whirled with the reality of the moment. As he reached the trees he slowed, finally stopping after entering the grove itself.
“Stefano.”
He turned around slowly, unsure what he would see. A few feet from him, dressed in tattered trousers and a ripped shirt, stood Nikolos, in mortal form. When he took a step forward, Nikolos held up his hand.
“Wait. The things I need speak must be said before we touch or I shall lose my nerve.”
“It is you, then.”
“It is, brother of my heart.”
“I have longed for this time. More so once I knew you still lived. What happened then, dear one? You just … vanished.”
“It was a pit-trap. Well hidden. I had not but just fallen into it when I was grabbed. I think they were waiting at the bottom. I remember being seized and then everything was gone. When I came to, I was in their gathering place. The rest … the rest is not worth speaking. Nor is it truly required.”
“The past can remain the past. What matters now is we have found each other.”
“The past paints the future, Stefano. We are enemies of blood. And although I am sure, for a time, we could hold back the impulses of our nature, it would overcome us soon enough. And I, for one, cannot fathom seeing you as anything less than I do now. A love lost then found, only to be released again.”
“You are right of course, Nikolos. But the thought of saying farewell is a pain I do not wish to bear.”
“Nor I, my dear one. And mayhaps we can speak through missives and, if close enough, in our hearts as we have tonight. For whether or not a heart beats, it still speaks.”
“And feels loss. Nikolos, my Nikolos. I must hold you once more.”
The two stepped closer, then embraced in a burst of unbridled passion. Their lips crushed together as hungry tongues fenced wildly. Then all too soon, the wolven stepped back.
“I would that I could stay, but keeping this form is difficult. Even more when my emotions are so frayed.”
“May the Fates h..hold you close and protect you from harm, dearest of my heart.”
“And you, my first and only love.” Nikolos leaned in to give a gentle, lingering kiss before stepping back. His voice was raspy and broken when he spoke. “Farewell, Stefano.” He turned and leapt into the shadows then was gone.
Stefano stood silent in the darkness until he could no longer hear or sense his dearest friend. Tears slipped from his dark eyes and he wept in the solit
ude of the grove until he gradually regained some composure. A shudder ran through him as he whispered into the night air.
“Farewell, Nikolos.”