Topic: In The Still Of The Night

Rachel Bristol

Date: 2013-11-19 02:33 EST
Night fell on Avalon as it did over the rest of the world. Darkness crept in, yet the things that used darkness for cover were kept at bay by the power of the Lady. Peaceful and calm, it was a place where serenity could enter your being and soothe your worries as you slept. One by one, the inhabitants of the towerhouse went to their beds - the wedded couple to one room, the innocent sister to another - while in a third, a man once angelic slept, restoring his strength after the long day and night that had brought him to this point. Night moved on past the mid-point, and the Isle grew quiet, until no sound was heard but that of distant tolling bells striking each hour at the Abbey that dominated the valley below.

Rachel had quickly grown exhausted once again during her short time out of bed, though Rhys and Natalya between them had made certain that she ate enough to see her through until morning. They had even given in to her insistence that some of the food be left by Zachariel as he slept, so that when he woke, he could eat. Her brother had tucked her back between the covers, made sure she was sleeping peacefully, before retreating to his own room with his wife. The moonlight shone in through the window, illuminating her gentle face at peace, the shimmer of golden flax hair spread across the pillow, the soft sheen of her pale skin in the natural light. Her slumber was undisturbed, more peaceful than she had experienced in her life, but for one name that fell from her lips as she passed through her dreams. "Zachariel ..."

The man who had once been an angel didn't so much as flinch when Rhys crept in to leave a sandwich and glass of milk on the table near his bed. It was only the soft rhythmic sound of his breathing that proved the angel was still alive. Rhys settled the blankets around him, like one might a child, and crept from the room to retreat to the room he shared with Natalya for the night. If either Zachariel or Rachel needed anything, they were just down the hall, close enough to hear them call, far enough away to offer a semblance of privacy. The house grew quiet as those who inhabited its walls fell into slumber, until the wee hours of the night when the man who had been the angel Zachariel at last started to waken.

During his years as an angel, he had often watched Rachel sleeping. Since her creation he had watched her through each lifetime, during every aspect of her life, until death claimed her and she was born again, into a new life. He'd watched over her every step of the way through every lifetime until, twenty-five years ago, she had disappeared without a trace. He had seen her live and love through good times and bad, and he had eventually been with her when she died. He knew what it was to be mortal, but he had never experienced it himself. He had never slept and never dreamed, until now, and when he awoke in the middle of the night, he was momentarily confused, uncertain where he was or what had happened, until the unfamiliar fog of sleep lifted and he remembered.

He vaguely remembered being brought to this room and told to rest; he remembered lying awkwardly down on the bed, unable to keep his eyes open any longer, no matter how hard he tried, and then there was nothing more. There had been visions in his sleep, memories of things that had gone before, some pleasant, some not so pleasant, but the memories were all jumbled and confused like a jigsaw puzzle, and he could make no logical sense of it. It was dark when he woke, a sliver of moonlight shining through his window. He laid there for a little while, listening to the silence around him that wasn't really silent.

There were sounds within the silence if one listened hard enough. He could hear the trees moving in the breeze outside his window; he could hear his own heart beating slowly like the rhythm of a drum. He felt very alone in that silence, as though he was the only living thing in all the world, and he wondered how humans endured such loneliness. He was not sure he could bear that loneliness, and after a while, he rose from the bed, his body feeling heavy, though there were no wings upon his back to weigh him down.

He went to the window and looked out upon the heart of Avalon, peacefully at rest. Nothing moved or made a sound but the trees swaying softly in the wind and the last of the autumn leaves drifting to the ground. He remembered his brothers and sisters, as plentiful as the leaves on the trees or the stars in the sky, but here he was alone, separated from the heavens, a solitary soul among many. He knew he was not alone in the house, and he knew enough about humans to know they must, too, be at rest. His thoughts turned to the others, to Rathanael who had once been a friend, but no longer remembered their friendship; but mostly his thoughts turned to Rachel, for whose love he has sacrificed his angelic soul in exchange for life as a mortal man, and he found his heart yearning to see her, to protect her and watch over her as he had done for countless lifetimes throughout millenia.

Unknown to him in that moment, Rachel, too, was gazing out through her own window, though her thoughts were far from loneliness. She could feel that she was not alone, that there was more to this world than the room in which she stood. She had woken with a start, with the memory of Oliver's blood on her face, the memory of Zachariel's pain and the violence with which they had both been rescued. And though there had been fear, all it had taken was to see that the strange soft dress she wore was like nothing she had ever worn before, to understand that this room was not the room she had woken up in every day of her life, to understand that it had only been a dream. Drawn to the pale silvery light filtering in through the window, she had risen from the bed, curling her bare arms about herself as she gazed out. Her eyes took in the swaying of the trees, the fall of the autumn leaves, knowing now that it was wind that made such things happen.

Daring to raise her eyes to the ceiling Rhys had called the sky, she gasped softly, entranced by the full wallow of the silver orb that lit the night, the pinpricks of light that decorated a blue as dark as midnight velvet. There was no room for confusion or fear in the awe that filled her, feeling a strange kinship with the full-bellied lady who watched over the night, bathing the green-eyed innocent in silver rays of light.

Rachel Bristol

Date: 2013-11-19 02:34 EST
Zachariel felt a strange emptiness deep inside him that had nothing to do with his feelings of loneliness, but was more of a physical sensation. It was a strange feeling to someone who had never been human and had never known cold or illness or hunger. He had felt some of those sensations after his wings had been torn from him. He certainly knew pain and suffering and fear, but this sensation was very different. It did not frighten him or cause him any anxiety; it was only a gnawing in the middle of his being that made him feel strangely weak and empty. Had he noticed the sandwich and glass of milk on the table, he might have satisfied that craving, but he did not. Instead, he padded on bare feet to the door, needing first to find Rachel, to make sure she was safe.

Without his angelic abilities, he was no longer able to think of her and find himself in her presence, but he seemed to retain some sort of connection - some feeling that she was close, though he was not quite sure where exactly she might be. He stepped out into the hallway, feeling a little disoriented and confused. There were several doors along this passage, as well as a stairway that led down, and she could very well be in any one of those rooms, if she was in any of them at all. He listened a moment for the familiar sound of her voice or her breathing, but there was only silence and the creaking of the wind in the rafters. "Rachel?" he called, as he moved along the passage, wondering where she was and why they had been separated. He had been her closest companion for millenia, though she had not known it. There was nothing about her that he did not know.

She was so caught up in gazing up at the celestial body pouring light down onto Avalon, she didn't hear his footsteps along the passage outside, blissfully unaware of anything but herself, and the lady in the sky outside. Only the sound of her name, of his voice, drew her briefly out of that awe-struck contemplation, her head turning momentarily toward the door to her room as she let her arms fall to her sides. "I'm here, Zachariel," she called back to him softly, even as her gaze returned to the night sky. She hoped there was a name for what she was looking at - the thought of having to name it herself was daunting.

He tilted his head, hearing her answer his call, and he moved in that direction, slightly frustrated that he was unable to go to her simply by willing himself there. Being human was going to take some getting used to for one who had always been an angel. He paused at the door, unsure if it was the right one and called her again, quieter this time, so not to wake the other couple who were presumably at rest somewhere nearby. "Rachel?"

"In here." Her own call was quieter this time as well, finally tearing her gaze from Avalon outside her window to turn toward the door. She could hear him on the other side, a hopeful smile lighting her face as she moved toward the door. "It isn't locked."

He heard her voice and tried the door, pushing it open and stepping inside, pausing a moment to let his eyes adjust to the change in measure of light and darkness. It was another part of being human he had not experienced before. His eyes sought her out, finding her near the window, a dark silhouette in the moonlight. He suddenly felt oddly shy and awkward. Though he had known her for all of her existence, she had never known him, and he was at a loss for words.

There she was, silhouetted by the moonlight, blonde hair lit up to frame her face as her smile made itself known. She felt strangely shy of him, too, though she couldn't have said why. There had been no shyness when they had been alone before, when she had slept in his arms. Why did it feel so strange now" The hem of the borrowed nightdress skimmed her thighs as she moved toward him, green eyes glimmering in the half-light. "D-did you sleep well, Zachariel?"

"I..." He trailed off, his eyes slowly growing accustomed to the darkness, his gaze moving over her as she stepped closer. He was not sure what was happening, but there were more strange feelings making themselves known in this body that he could not control. "I dreamed, I think..." he admitted, uncertainly. Though he'd heard of dreams, he had never had one himself. "It was....confusing."

"What did you dream?" Rachel asked him, her quiet voice even softer in the deep darkness of the night. Her hand reached toward him, fingers outstretched in an open invitation for him to take her hand and come closer. "I dreamed, too," she told him, uncertain quite why she was sharing that when her dream had been so unpleasant to wake from. But she was distracted, almost unaware of the way her gaze traveled over him in the gloom of the night, from head to toe and back again.

"I don't know. It was confusing," he replied, automatically reaching to take her outstretched hand without thought. She reached for him, and he reached back; it seemed perfectly natural and right. "Not all of it was pleasant," he admitted with a frown, wondering how many times he was going to have to live through the agony of having his wings chopped from his back in his sleep. "I-I did not wake you, did I?" he asked, unsure if he'd cried out in his sleep the way he had in reality.

She shook her head. "No, you didn't wake me," she promised him in a gentle whisper, stepping closer as he took her hand. He was so much taller than she had thought, tall enough that she had to tip her head right back to look up at him, to meet his gaze as they talked. "I was looking through the window, at the light in the sky." Her fingers tangled with his, her other hand rising seemingly of its own accord to touch him, just barely skimming his skin where Rhys' shirt and pants didn't quite meet on Zachariel's tall frame.

How many times had he held her in his embrace, had he wrapped his wings around her throughout all her lifetimes but this one, and she had never known he was there. There she stood, so close and yet so far. His fingers tangled with hers, drawing comfort from that simple touch. He seemed uninterested in the light at the window, far more enchanted by the light in her eyes. "It's the moon," he told her, his eyes never leaving hers, his heart beating a little bit faster at the innocent brush of fingertips against his skin.

Rachel Bristol

Date: 2013-11-19 02:34 EST
"The moon." Though she repeated the word and would, no doubt, remember it when the time came again, the enchanted awe she had felt looking up at the full light of the night sky was forgotten as she gazed into Zachariel's eyes. Her own heart seemed to skip a beat every now and then, the gentle thump rising to a patter she was totally unfamiliar with. Her lips parted, strangely breathless for some reason she couldn't fathom, warmth spreading through her belly. She felt nervous, somehow, but it was a good feeling. "And ....and what are the littler lights called?" Her hand flattened against his skin, her palm conforming to the curve of his side, just above his hip ....and for some reason, she felt herself blush, her face warming without warning or any understanding of why.

He didn't have to look outside the window into the night sky to know what lights she was referring to. It was the heavens she was asking about, a place where humans thought angels dwelt. They did not, of course, dwell in the sky as was believed. Without mortal bodies, they had no need for homes, as such, but it was difficult to explain precisely what Heaven was or where it existed. It was hidden, mysterious, ethereal, and completely inaccessible to man, just as Avalon was inaccessible to angels. "They are called stars," he replied simply. He felt a twitch at his back, a desire to wrap her in his wings, but that was no longer possible, and his heart ached with sadness, not yet realizing there were other ways to love her.

"Stars." Again, she repeated the word in a vague tone, more caught up in the warmth of his skin beneath her palm, the tangle of his fingers in hers, the way the moon light glittered in his eyes. Even the way she had to tip her head so far back to hold that gaze did something jumpy to her insides, intensifying the feeling she had taken for nerves. She swallowed, the direction of her gaze flickering to his lips for a long moment, driven by some instinct she couldn't name, and cleared her throat softly. "Um ....are you hungry?"

Hungry, he thought, trying to wrap his mind around the word. There were many kinds of hunger, though he had never known them. Hunger of the body, hunger of the spirit, the heart, the soul. And there was another kind of hunger, a yearning deep inside, like a flame burning brightly. As he looked into her eyes, he seemed to feel a certain kind of hunger, a yearning deep inside that he could not name, and he was not sure how to answer her question or of which hunger she spoke. "I-I am not sure what you are asking."

"Um ..." Rachel hesitated. She'd never had to explain anything before, uncertain quite how to go about it. In many ways, she was remarkably similar to her brother. Her hand slid from his side, surprising her with how reluctant she felt to end that touch, to rest over her own stomach. "It's a sort of emptiness, here," she attempted to make sense of the feeling. "Like an ache that feels restless. You get it when you need to eat food."

"Oh," he replied, as she explained what it was he was feeling, at least in part. "Yes, I feel an emptiness there." It was not quite painful, not yet anyway. He felt a certain weakness that did not seem to come from lack of rest. His mouth felt dry as well, and he realized that this was what thirst felt like. "I am hungry, yes, and thirsty." This physical sensation seemed to take precedence over everything else. It was as if his body knew it needed sustenance, even if he did not consciously realize it.

Pleased with herself for having explained something to the point where it seemed to make sense to him, Rachel beamed happily, her fingers tightening in his. "Rhys put some food and a drink by your bed while you were sleeping," she told him, her hand falling from its rest over her stomach, brushing her knuckles against, well, him in the process. Perhaps it was just as well she didn't notice, or she might have investigated. "Did you see it?"

Her brightening smile along with the tightening of her grip on his fingers seemed to do something else to him that he'd never felt before. This was not a feeling of hunger so much as it was an ache deep inside, a yearning to touch and be touched. His tongue touched his lips briefly as some inexplicable urge rose up inside him to touch his lips to hers, more instinct than conscious thought, hardly hearing her question as she asked it. Her hand dropped from her stomach, innocently brushing up against him and causing his insides to coil and tighten uncomfortably.

Countless times he had witnessed human bodies tangled in the act of copulation. For them, it was as natural an act as eating and sleeping and perhaps as necessary. He knew that such things were necessary to the continuation of the species, but it had always fascinated him - and some others of his kind - that of all living species, humans were one of the few who seemed to take pleasure in it and for whom it was not just about mating and childbearing. "Rachel, I..." He trailed off, licking his lips again, ashamed at the way his body betrayed him, ashamed at the thoughts that were invading his mind.

Something in the way he looked at her changed in that moment, something beyond the reach of her limited experience to describe or even understand. Something in his gaze darkened, yet she didn't feel any touch of fear. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat, her eyes widening as a longing she hadn't quite caught hold of welled inside her. The butterflies in her stomach seemed to grow in number, the sensation intensifying as her skin flushed once more, her gaze drawn with unerring accuracy to his tongue as he licked his lips once, twice. Without conscious thought, she echoed that motion, wetting her own lips with the pink tip of her tongue as she dragged her gaze back to his eyes, breathless once more with the urge to kiss his mouth. "Zach ..."

He could not see her clearly in the dark. He couldn't see the flush of her skin or hear the beating of her heart, but there was something in her eyes that told him she was feeling it, too - this sweet torment that was both pain and pleasure. "I do not want to hurt you," he said at last, the emptiness in his stomach forgotten in wake of this new feeling, another kind of hunger that he did not quite understand. He touched his fingers to her cheek, soft and tender, his heart beating wildly in his chest, feeling as though it might burst wide open.

Rachel Bristol

Date: 2013-11-19 02:35 EST
She stared into his eyes, caught in the grip of something that felt so much bigger than herself, something strong and fragile all at once. The brush of his fingers against her skin sent a ripple through her that seemed to earth itself deep inside in a crackle that heated her inside and out. "I-I don't believe you ever could hurt me," she whispered to him in answer, that fallen hand that had distracted them both so thoroughly rising between them, only to hesitate before she touched him once more.

His breath caught in his throat as she touched him again, heart beating rapidly, his body reacting to her touch and her closeness in ways he could have never imagined. He had never felt such a feeling before, like a wave of heat that burned his insides. Though it was not painful, there was an urgency there that startled and frightened him and he pulled away a little, afraid he would not be able to control himself if he gave way to such powerful feelings.

That little retreat, however small, was enough to rein in Rachel's hesitating hand. She blushed again, dropping her gaze from his as her hand fell to her side once more, searching wildly for something to say or do that might cancel out the thumping eagerness surging through her veins. "I, um ..." She drew in a deep breath, swallowing hard. "You said you were hungry. Did you eat the food Rhys left by your bed?"

He frowned, worried he had offended her in some way when the truth was he was scared. Of what, he wasn't quite sure. He was partly afraid of hurting her, partly afraid of disappointing her, partly afraid of things he could not quite put a name to. He looked a little relieved at her question, reminding him of that emptiness in the center of his body. "Food" No, I..." He had not noticed any food near his bed, nor had he thought to look for it. His first thought had been to look for her.

"You should eat." As they talked, she seemed to feel herself calming down. The thumping of her heart slowed, her breath began to return to normal, her skin cooled from its vibrant flush. Whatever had caused that sudden display of very physical symptoms seemed to bleed away, leaving behind it one echo, deep inside, that might flare into life once again at any moment. "Come on." She tugged on his hand as her smile rose once more, stepping around him to slip out into the passage beyond, her direction clearly the room he had woken in.

It took a little more time and a little more effort for the fire in him to cool, ebbing slowly away to a faint aching flame that with the slightest effort might roar to life again. But for now, it was a manageable ache, hunger moving to the forefront of his physical needs and urges. He let her lead him back to the room where he'd been resting, happy to follow along, like a stray dog in search of food and shelter and affection.

Shelter he had, food was forthcoming, and if the big bad former warrior angel would just man up, affection wouldn't be out of his reach. Doubtless the view of her behind, even in the gloom, wasn't helping matters - Natalya had done her best to find a modest-ish nightdress for Rachel to wear, but the thing was still thin enough and clinging enough to leave relatively little to the imagination. Thankfully, however, Rachel didn't know this. She drew Zachariel by the hand into his own bedroom, giggling a little at the sight of the plate and glass, completely untouched and unnoticed, on the cabinet beside the bed. "There," she pointed. "He promised he'd done it."

He followed along behind her, unsuspectingly, until he found his eyes wandering and admiring the view from behind. Thankfully, it was dark and he could only see a hint of the female form that was hidden beneath the flimsy fabric. Though he might have followed her through countless lifetimes, he had only known her in this body for a few days, and the reaction his body was having to hers was as unexpected as it was disconcerting. He did not notice the plate and glass right away, so distracted was he by the view, only looking that way when she pointed it out, thankful for the darkness, that she couldn't see the embarrassment on his face. "Oh," he muttered for the second time.

Though she was a child in many ways, in others Rachel was nothing but a woman. She felt what he felt, the same confusion, the same longing, distracted in the same way by a chance motion of his hand, the dip of his lips as he spoke. That "oh", that straying gaze of his ....they were enough to bring a flicker of life back to the tempting longing inside her, a softer flush coloring her skin as she swallowed once more, giving him a gentle tug toward the bed. "You should eat," she repeated, her breath a soft gasp of sound in the darkness. "Should I put on the light?"

He frowned in the darkness again, unsure if he wanted her to turn on the light. There was safety in the darkness, as well as a strange kind of intimacy. He thought the light might be too bright, too harsh. He thought it might be better to wait for daylight, to let the light come naturally in its own time. "No, there is enough moonlight," he replied as he followed her into the room and moved over toward the bed, to where her brother had left something for him to eat.

"Okay." Her voice was small in the silver shimmer from the window, shy and warm, reluctant to take her hand from his grasp. But this, she knew better than he did. He was going to need both his hands to manage the sandwich Rhys had constructed. With her reluctance obvious even to a blind man, she eased her fingers from between Zach's, smoothing her hands against her own hips as she settled herself to sit on the edge of his bed with him. "I, um, I don't want to be away from you," she confessed softly. "But ....but if you want me to go, I can go."

"Are you....are you cold in that..." What was it exactly' It wasn't quite a dress or a robe or a gown. He trailed off, forcing his gaze away from what she was wearing - and what was beneath it - to the glimmer of green eyes in the moonlight. "I would like you to stay," he said as blue eyes met green. He wasn't sure why, but there was that shyness again. Had it only been a day or so ago that they'd been huddled together and he had told her that he loved her" It seemed like a long time ago.

Rachel Bristol

Date: 2013-11-19 02:36 EST
"No, I'm not cold." She smiled, shaking her head to reinforce this insistence that it wasn't cold that was making her fidget. Banishing her hands to the bed beside her thighs, she forced herself to sit still, her smile fading into something far more intimate as he found her gaze in the gloom. He wants me to stay. Like him, shyness found her, quirking her lips into a tiny smile. "Then I'll stay. But only if you eat."

"I will eat," he agreed, smiling a little at the irony of her statement, as she seemed to try and bargain with him. "I have to eat," he added, reminding her that he was only human now, prone to the same needs and desires as anyone. He hesitated a moment before settling himself beside her, awkward and shy once again. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, turning the question she had asked him only a few minutes before around on her as he reached for the sandwich.

She nodded, biting her lip before speaking. "I-I woke up before the sun went down, and I had dinner with Rhys and Natalya," she offered as he began to eat. "They're making a baby in Natalya's whom - at least I think that's what he called it. And then I was tired again, so I went back to sleep, and I didn't wake up until just a little while ago."

"Womb," Zachariel corrected. Though he might know nothing of what it felt like to be human, he had witnessed eons of humans living their lives, and as such - at least, unconsciously - had gathered more knowledge than she had. He knew how it was done - he knew the biology of it - but he had not experienced it himself or understood the pleasure people seemed to take in it. Of course, he knew it was not always pleasurable, and this was another point of confusion. "She is with child?" he asked, arching both brows as he took the sandwich in both hands.

"She has a baby inside her, that's what Rhys said," Rachel shrugged. She didn't pretend to understand what her brother had been talking about, but she had a feeling Nat would explain it better when there was time for it. "They have to go to someplace else for a few days, but he says they'll be back. He says we should stay here while they're gone."

"It's peaceful here," Zachariel remarked, untroubled by the suggestion they stay and not accompany her brother and his wife wherever it was they were going. To Earth, most likely, though he wasn't sure just where. He didn't miss the irony in the fact that the angel that had once been his brother in arms was now a man who was her brother by blood. "I told you he'd find us. He saved the world. Finding us was a small thing compared to that." He said it casually, as if he was merely stating a fact, which he was. To him, it was part of history now, legend, even if so few knew of it. He examined the sandwich as if trying to sort out how to go about eating it before bringing it to his mouth and taking a bite.

The entire concept of "saving the world" was so far over Rachel's head, it didn't even register. All she knew was that her brother had promised to save her, and he had. It was enough for her, simple and succinct. She opened her mouth to answer, and the words died on her lips, her attention caught with shocking abruptness by the movement of his mouth as he took his first bite of the sandwich in his hands. Without realizing it, she stared for a long time, blinking to clear her vision when she finally noticed what she was doing. With her mind gone completely blank, she bit her lip once again, looking around the room into which Zach had been installed - what little of it she could see in the darkness, anyway.

It was more instinct than anything learned that caused him to take a bite of the sandwich, chewing and swallowing without needing to be taught how. This body knew what it needed and how to do it now that it was mortal flesh and blood. As he ingested the sandwich, he realized this thing called eating was pleasurable, as well. The sandwich, as he knew it was called, tasted good to him and it did what it needed to do in filling that empty gnawing feeling inside him. He didn't really noticed her staring at him and when he finally looked her way, her gaze had moved on to take in their surroundings, which were comfortable enough, if impersonal.

Comfortable enough with silence, even in company, Rachel let the stillness go on, offering Zach ample opportunity to eat his sandwich in peace as she breathed slow and deep, enjoying the peace of this place that had so touched him. Slowly, she leaned back until she was lying on the bed, her hands clasped over her stomach, gazing up at the ceiling with a half-smile on her face. She liked it here, she decided. It was peaceful; more than that, it was safe. She couldn't even begin to imagine anything bad happening on Avalon.

He washed the sandwich down with the glass of milk, amazed at how wonderful it tasted and felt in his stomach. The food seemed to bolster him somehow and make him feel stronger. He smiled as he looked over at her, lying there on his bed and he laid down beside her, feeling oddly content and even happy. It was a feeling he'd never quite known before or understood. "What will you do now?" he asked, wondering how long she would stay and if she still wanted her fate linked to his.

"I don't know." She turned her head to look at him as he laid himself down beside her, her smile not faltering even in the face of such uncertainty. "I've never had the choice before - I don't even know if there's anything I can do." She sighed softly, one hand reaching up to gently stroke the back of her finger against his cheek, instinct urging her to touch him, to feel that strange, wonderful connection once again. "I have a lot to learn. But I want to learn it with you."

His smile faded, but not because he was sad or worried, only because he wondered if he should tell her what he wanted, as well. "I want to stay with you, Rachel," he told her, turning his head toward hers as she stroked his cheek. "Wherever you go, whatever you do..." He frowned again, uncertain if she'd changed her mind or if she still wanted him in her life. She had only known him a few short days, though each had been willing to give their life for the other. "I have been with you for so long..." She was all he knew, all he wanted to know.

Rachel Bristol

Date: 2013-11-19 02:36 EST
"So stay." It was as simple as that. With no worldly experience to cloud her choice, no lifetime of conditioning to modify her behavior and keep her from trusting on a feeling, Rachel knew she wanted to be with Zach. She loved him, plain and simple. Not once did it cross her mind that he or she might change their minds once they were out in the world once again. She rolled onto her side, propping her head up as she looked down at him. "Would-would you do something for me, if I asked you nicely?"

He seemed surprised at her question, blond brows arching higher as he followed her movement with his eyes, focusing on her face, so young and so lovely, the green of her eyes, the gold of her hair, the soft plumpness of her lips. He gaze tracked back to fix on her gaze and he answered without hesitation or doubt. "I would do anything you ask of me."

One thing was playing on her mind, something she doubted Rhys and Natalya had even realized would leave such an indelible mark on her during their brief few hours before she had been put back to bed. They did it so naturally, without hesitation or self-conscious awareness, an expression of the obvious love between them that neither seemed inclined to hide. It had charmed her as she'd watched them, and now, alone with Zach, aware of her own feelings as her gaze tracked over him, she wanted to know if it was possible to replicate. It had happened once, but he had been dying then. Would it be any different now" She blushed, a shy smile lighting her face as she looked down at him. "Would you kiss me?"

From the expression on his face, he was not expecting this, and he paused a moment in his reply, though it was not because her request was an unpleasant one. He remembered the kiss they had shared once before, when he was near death and terrified he would die alone and unloved. It seemed a ridiculous thought and yet, that same fear still held him in thrall somewhere deep inside. Did all humans feel this way' Were they all terrified of dying alone" Didn't they know that so long as angels existed they were never alone" Was there one who had been assigned to him and if so, who' But it didn't matter. The only angel he wanted to love him was the gentle creature right in front of him. "Rachel," he whispered, her name like a prayer upon his lips, pleading and reverent. He raised a hand to touch her cheek, a thumb brushing her lips, finding them soft to the touch. He knew what a kiss was, had seen humans touch lips many times. He remembered the way her lips felt against hers and longed to taste them again.

The hope in her eyes was almost heartbreaking to witness, the faint uncertainty, the fear that she had made herself ridiculous with one simple request. He was very new to being human, yes, but she was very new to simply living each moment as it passed her by. What was it about him that made her tremble" It was a good feeling, unless he said no. As his thumb passed over her lips, she couldn't resist, kissing the pad of that digit softly, her eyes on his, unable to look away. Her heart felt as though it might burst if he chose not to honor her request as he had promised he would always do.

He had promised he would do whatever she asked, and he could not deny her, even in this, though he was afraid it would cause that small flame to flicker to life once again, burning him from the inside. Yet, how could he deny her request when he wanted the very same thing? One kiss, he told himself. There was nothing wrong in one kiss. He had seen people make love. It was what they called it, he'd learned, and he seemed to understand now why. His heart burned with this feeling, with a longing so deep and so strong. "Rachel," he whispered again, as he moved closer, searching the depths of her lovely green eyes, his heart beating fast in his chest.

When he at last touched his lips to hers, the kiss he gave her was soft and gentle, at least at first. It seemed to speak of promises made and of promises yet to be made; of the tenderness of love, the sweetness of the moment.

Perhaps it was not the kiss she had seen shared so often between her brother and his wife. But it was hers, given to her by a newly made man who loved her. She felt so many things as his lips touched hers - the explosion of sensation rocketing through every inch of her body, the sweet spreading warmth that followed it, the thumping beat of her heart as it skipped. And yet all those feelings paled in comparison to the ineffable, immeasurable surge of true emotion, of undefinable love. She breathed him in, her lips parting from his for just a moment before renewing the kiss, giving back to him what he had given to her as her hand finally found the courage to touch him once more, smoothing against his side with restless, loving desire.

He kissed her again, letting his body lead the way, his human instincts, his kiss deepening as he opened himself to the feelings that were giving way inside him. All the lonely years were melting away, all the years of longing, the years of searching and desperation and hopelessness, when he had tried so hard to find her. He felt that quickening inside him again, his heart racing, body trembling, an aching need deep inside him, and he knew he was at last human.

How long they lay there together, trading kisses back and forth, was something Rachel could never recall throughout the years of life that followed. She remembered only the sense of oneness, the flickering heat that licked at her as she surrendered to the feelings that welled up at his touch. Innocent though she was, some of that innocence stripped itself away in the wake of those kisses, the primal part of her wanting more. Yet she didn't truly know what she wanted, only that she wanted with all her being.

Those kisses were more than Zachariel could have ever imagined, and he finally understood what it was to be human, to loved and be loved. There was so much more to it than he'd ever known or imagined. No one could have ever explained to him what it felt like to love someone with all your being - heart and soul and body. He kissed her again and again, each kiss sweeter than the last, until they were both out of breath and unsure of the next step. He knew what came next, but he was inexperienced and afraid he'd do something wrong. He cupped her face in his hands, searching her eyes for some unspoken guidance. Though he was no longer weary, he knew it was late and that she should rest. "I don't want you to leave," he admitted quietly, knowing they had been separated for a reason, but they had been apart for twenty-five years - it was long enough.

Rachel Bristol

Date: 2013-11-19 02:37 EST
He knew more than she did of what such things could lead to. All Rachel knew was how she felt when she was with Zach, no matter what happened. She didn't want to lose that feeling. A little breathless, she lay back, green eyes wide with amazement at how close she felt to him, and yet how far away he seemed in that same moment. Unbeknownst to him, she had already decided she would not be returning to the room Rhys had put her in, wanting to curl up with her fallen angel as they had the night before, secure in the knowledge that this time he would sleep with her. Her fingertips brushed against his cheek as she smiled, her voice soft in the darkness. "I don't want to leave."

The solution seemed simple enough. They were not children, and yet they were both as innocent as children. Even him, having witnessed the best and worst in humans for millenia, watching from the outside but never living, never experiencing life for himself. Everything was familiar and unfamiliar, known but unknown, a new experience. Though he understood why they had been separated, it seemed to him futile. He had been with her since the dawn of time, since the creation of her soul. There was no one who loved her more, or who was more determined to keep her safe. "Then don't leave," he replied just as softly, his voice pleading for his lonely heart. "Stay with me, Rachel. Stay with me always," he said, catching her fingers and pressing them against his lips.

"Why would I go?" she asked him, her voice sweet in the stillness around them. She truly didn't understand what could possibly make her leave his side, what he seemed so afraid might take her away from him. As her fingers stroked against his lips, Rachel smiled, pushing herself up once again to kiss the very tip of his nose with a playful giggle. "You should sleep more," she told him. "That's what Natalya said. She said nothing would help us more than a good long sleep."

"I have watched over you all of my long existence, and I have never slept. I have watched as you were born and lived and loved and died, over and over again, never knowing I was there, never knowing that I loved you. I do not wish to sleep. I only want to be near you and know that you are safe," he said, perhaps telling her more than he should, perhaps not enough. How could she know how deeply his heart yearned for her or how long he had loved her when she had only just learned of his existence"

She gazed into his eyes, understanding only a little of what he told her. But some part of her understood, that part that had matured over the years, the part that had known the moment they had met that she loved him. Her palm smoothed against his cheek as she smiled once more. "I am always safe when I'm with you," she reminded him softly, leaning close to let her lips brush his once again.

"Not always," he admitted with a frown, the long years of guilt that had caused him to fall still laying heavy on his heart, the memory of the night when he'd failed to protect her, failed to save her as clear as if it had only just happened. He would never forgive himself for what had happened, no matter what anyone told him, no matter what anyone believed. "It was my fault, Rachel," he told her, his eyes shining with tears in the moonlight. "I failed you, and the demons took you from me, from your mother, from all those who loved you."

"Do you think I blame you?" She shifted, rising onto her knees on the bed to face him, her hands falling to rest against his shoulders as she held his gaze. "Do you think anyone blames you for what happened" Everyone makes mistakes, Zach. And you risked everything to set it right." Her thumb swept his cheek, tears rising in her eyes in sympathetic echo of his. "Please don't be sad. It's all right now."

He shook his head, needing her to understand his failure, if only so that she would know the truth and not blame him for it later. "I blame me," he told her sadly, even as tears rose in her own eyes and she sought to comfort and reassure him. "Please forgive me, Rachel. I did all I could to save you, but it wasn't enough. Please..." He had never confessed his perceived failure, his perceived sin to anyone before, but before they could build a life together, he needed to confess and he needed her understanding and forgiveness. He laid his head against her shoulder, like a errant child.

She didn't know what he wanted, what he needed from her, that misunderstanding distressing her more than she liked to admit. As his head lay against her shoulder, she curled her arms around him, her fingers stroking through his hair as she kissed his forehead with tender affection. "Of course I forgive you," she promised him softly. "I am not angry with you, Zach. I'm glad you found me. I'm only sorry that you lost so much to see me safe."

A sob broke free as he listened to her words, not only listening with his ears but embracing her meaning with his heart. She was so good, so honest, so innocent; hers was a beautiful soul through and through. Was it any wonder he loved her? Her imprisonment could have made her bitter, angry, hateful, but it had not. She was still as innocent as a child, as loving and forgiving, and he worried the world would change her. He lifted his head, his face wet with tears of mingled joy and sorrow. "I would have willingly given anything to save you. I am happy that you are safe. I am happy we are together."

"I don't want you to give anything else," she told him softly, never stilling the gentle caress of her fingers through his hair, the tender brush of her lips against his forehead. "I want to stay with you. I want to look after you now. If you will let me."

"I don't know what will become of me if I ever lose you," he admitted his greatest fear, a fear that had come to pass when the demons had taken her from those who would have loved and protected her. He drew a slow breath to calm the tremor in his soul. He had given up everything for her, to love her as a man and not just as an angel.

"You won't lose me, ever again," she promised him, though quite where that conviction had come from was anyone's guess. She couldn't predict the future; she couldn't say for certain that they would never be separated again. But she had faith. "Please, don't be sad," she whispered to him once again, gently guiding his chin with her fingers until he met her gaze. "There's no need to be sad, not any more."

Rachel Bristol

Date: 2013-11-19 02:38 EST
"I'm not sad, Rachel," he said, smiling softly through his tears as she turned his face to meet her gaze. "I love you, with everything I am, everything I've become. I have loved you always, and I will love you forever."

Her smile rose, despite the tears that wet her own cheeks, reassured by his smile, by his promise. "I love you back," she told him shyly, too inexperienced, too innocent, to know that for most humans, love was not something they admitted to for many weeks and sometimes months. She knew what she felt, and she expressed it happily, cradling his face in her hands as her smile touched his.

He returned her smile, relieved, happy for her forgiveness, though he could not yet forgive himself, elated to know she shared his love. If this was their reward for all the years of loneliness, then it was well worth the price, in the end. "Will you rest now then?" he asked, sensing how tired she must be and not wanting her to wear herself out, especially not because of him.

"Only if you hold me." Rachel didn't make the mistake of suggesting that he try to sleep himself; she knew, in her own way, that if he needed to sleep, he would, despite his personal objections to it. "I meant it, when I said I didn't want to leave."

"I will," he promised, laying back down on the bed and opening his arms to her, like he had once opened his wings. He had held her safe within his wings' embrace countless time before, lifetime after lifetime, but to hold her in his arms, to love her with a human heart, to spend a mortal life in her companionship was more than he could ever have hoped for. To a man who had once been an angel, it was nothing short of a miracle.

She beamed happily in the silvery light of the moon, delighted by how quickly he acquiesced to her request. Drawing the covers to her waist, she lay down in his arms, curled close against his side as her own arms wrapped about him. Her head found a pillow on his shoulder; a little woman pressed warm and trusting against the side of the man who loved her most. Her lips brushed his neck for a brief moment before she settled, failing to stifle a small yawn. "Good night, Zach."

"Good night, Rachel," Zachariel replied, wrapping her in his embrace, like he had so many times before. This time, however, she knew him, recognized him, returned his embrace. It brought a smile to his face to know that she loved him, even if she didn't quite know what love was. He would show her, he would care for her, he would love her all the days of his mortal life and even after death. This was the greatest gift he could have ever been given, the greatest gift God had bestowed upon mankind, to love and be loved. And now it was his.

((These two are so sweet, I may end up with a sugar high. :grin: Huge thanks to Zach's player!))