Into the Dark

If there is something more astounding than the fact that we live, I believe that would be the possibility of us not being alone. Even inside our own hearts, we wage a battle we are destined to win and loose alike, for it is our inner self that we seek to conquer with the self that we outwardly show, and it is the same pain and fear in and outside of our souls. However, just like there is an ambiguity to the nature of our spirits, there is also the same double-sided spirit in nature. Light and Shadow, the two forces that remain in eternal conflict with each other, the shadows being forever on the loosing side. To every shape there is a shadow, to every light there is a hidden ray of darkness, yet light will forever dominate, until nightfall, when the darkness stretches out its fingers for only so long, until it is forced to recede again. Both are the same in the end, the same need, the same power behind each sharp angle of white or black, and the war between them continues, unrelenting.

This dagger in my hand is one side of me, this other dagger is myself. Were I to slice into my flesh with one, it would be the defeat of a side of me I did not know till today, were I to cut myself with the other... the blood spilled by cutting myself with my other self is nothing. There is a hatred in me now, one that cannot go away, because I am bound to seek the light that I was never granted, I am bound to the world of shadows.

I am, after all, a shadow.

As these thoughts swirled in my mind I did not hear the soft padding of footsteps outside my door until a soft knock startled me. I jumped in surprise and hurriedly put both daggers under the hard mattress of my bed, sitting on it before asking.

"Who is it?"

"It's me brother, Aislin."

I sighed as I heard the soft melodious voice of my sister, thanking whatever gods still existed that it had been her and not my father. I still didn't feel up to talking to him.

"Come in," I grumbled, lying back on the bed as she squeezed in through the door.

"I know you want be alone Bud, but couldn't you at least tell me what's wrong? You've been cooped up in here, brooding over Odin knows what for almost two weeks now. And you've hardly eaten!" her gentle reproaching brought a small bitter smile to my lips. Aislin was far too sweet and caring sometimes, and I didn't want to talk about anything now. I glanced up at her, seeing that she was wearing the same coarse work dress as yesterday, still smudged all over from helping with the housework while our father -if he was indeed my father- worked on his carpentry.

"I'm fine Ais, just mulling over a problem."

"Then whatever it is we can solve it together!" she cried, stamping her foot irritably in that awfully coquettish manner of hers. My very own sister.... or was she? I sighed, looking at her, she was two years older than me, but at twelve it was already easy to predict what a fiery and dangerous beauty she would possess. He hair was raven dark, an unusual colouring in this region, while her eyes were a dangerous silverblue shade.... not to mention her wild temper. Under any other circumstance, had we been rich or noble, she would have been the pride of the high-class as well as their envy, too pretty and smart for their ranks. But her wit and loveliness were wasted upon the lowclass townspeople, destined to be handed to some weather beaten farmer when she came of age. This knowledge very often kept me up and night, desperate as I was to save my older sister from the dullness I saw in all these wives that moved around the town. She was a queen born among paupers and she deserved better.

"No we can't, this is my problem. Mine only," I cut back, leaning back with my hands behind my head to serve as a pillow.

"Are you... in some kind of trouble?" her faltering tone sent a small stab of guilt through me, I was indeed pushing my family to worry over me. But... my family...

No matter what I did I could not shake the vision of that boy I had ran into, two weeks ago, when I had gone hunting. I couldn't get his face out of my mind, because it was my face I had stared into. The same golden eyes, the same nose and chin... but perhaps I had a rougher look and body, for he had grown up in luxury while I was nothing but a peasant. Or was I? It was no secret what happened to twins in this region, everyone knew that multiple births were a sign of ill luck and that one of the children had to be disposed of lest they break up the family. I had been disposed off, then?

I remembered the fleeting image I had of his parents, those tall and regal creatures that stared down at me with unrecognising pity, astride their lovely horses with clothes ribbed in silver and gold, wearing silks and furs that most people down here didn't even know existed, posing around with ridiculously feathered hats and rich necklaces to show off their money. And yet, there had been a softness in their eyes that had made me tremble, a gentle loving glow as they stared upon their son. Their good Samaritan son, who had never known hunger or cold, who could not see a rabbit as food but as a pet, a child who could trade expensive trinkets for the life of a hard working man's lunch simply because it was cute. The sheer reality of such wealth was staggering, the very thought that it could have been me standing beside those lovely parents and not him was dizzying. Hatred swelled inside of me like a disease, turning me hot and cold in turns as I fought with the knowledge I had been given.

I now had two daggers, one with my name and one with his, the only proof existing - save for our faces- that I was not the son of whom I had thought I was. All these years, this poor carpenter had taken care of me out of mercy, telling me that I was his son, convincing me that this was my place when I felt alienated from the other children who were less lovely or regal than I. My father, who had lied to me about buying a pretty dagger with my name carved into it, and I should have realised it was a lie for it would have paid off a lot more to buy Aislin a pretty necklace as a meagre dowry. And now, here I was, faced with the truth, with the terrible knowledge that this life might have not been mine after all, that I might have grown up in luxury and comfort.

Yet it was not for me that I grieved, but for Aislin, who would never know such delights and never wear those heavily embroidered dresses, that her bright spirit would be wasted. And yet... had I been the one to be kept, and not Syd, I would have never met her.... nor my father, who was the kindest and softest man I had ever known.

"I'm not in trouble Ais, I'm just.... confused. I need to think," she didn't know, I could see that. Father told no one about my not being his child, and the nobles treaded so rarely into our ravaged lands that my likeness to the young lord -my twin- would never be noticed.

"You have lost weight, and you are looking pale," she whispered, fidgeting with the rough ribbon that bound the dress around her childish waist, tight enough to cut her breath somewhat. "Father is so worried...."

I got up from the bed and strode resolutely to the window. I didn't want to discuss it with her, not now, I feared that if she found out I wasn't really her brother she might draw away from me. As she did with all the boys who tried to befriend her. I'd rather die a thousand deaths before loosing her like that. So I sought out something to tell her that would draw her away from suspicion and leave me alone.

"I'm fine Aislin, really. I'll go down to dinner tonight." She smiled in approval and nodded, walking up to me to catch me in a firm hug before leaving me alone again.

I tried to broach the subject to my father a few times, but I found that his pride in me was too big, his love too honest for me to be able to trouble him with my knowledge of the truth. I realised after some time that he feared my knowing I was not his son, perhaps because he expected me to give up my life with him and Aislin in favour of seeking out my real parents. Well, there was little chance of that, they did not want me, nor I them. I saw Syd once or twice in the following years, always flanked by his lovely mother and father, who smiled and nodded to the villagers as all nobles do, like they would smile and nod at a good dog for fetching a stick or pointing out a possible prey; this at least not lacking some vague level of affection. They loved us well compared to other nobles, not like the region up in the far north, where rumours said it that the noble family had been abandoned to death at the hands of a bloodthirsty bear, in a barren land where werewolves were said to roam in full moon nights. I stared at my other self through the darkness, hoping against all odds that my father and Aislin would never see the likeness between us, would never know the truth that would shatter our small lives, that would complicate our peaceful little cottage or disturb our daily struggles to get food. I cared not for luxury or comfort if it meant loosing my life so far. Yet I could not help resenting that richly clad, slimmer and better fed version of myself, with short cropped hair and smooth skin that had never known any hardships, I resented him so violently that I was sure he felt it, for more than once he stopped his horse to glance around the crowd in discomfort. Two times he spotted me, once when I was twelve, the other when I was fourteen, and on both occasions he stared deep into my eyes and I could swear that perhaps he saw something else, saw beyond my ragged hair and rougher features, yet on both occasions he moved on with hurtful speed.

"I swear you're mad Bud, whenever the nobles say they'll come you loose all appetite!" Aislin joked about that sometimes. Tonight she mocked me while brushing her long nocturne hair with careful precision, as if by measuring each move she might separate each of the strands that wove her nightly beauty. And father... he stared at her with sad eyes, knowing as I did that such promise of a woman would go on wasted, as he measured in the certainty of her movements and the darkness of her loveliness the amount of money one would require to buy her into marriage.

"Folks like them make me sick," I snapped back quietly. "How dare they come here and smile at us, when they eat and sleep on the work that keeps us hungry and awake."

Father had looked up at me, brown eyes dark and dull. "And yet, they are a blessing among other possible curses, they are good to us Bud, do not mock them."

"Their son is nice however, he has such a sweet smile," Aislin interjected, making me go cold and numb all of a sudden. I looked up at her, fearing she might have seen through the truth, but her eyes remained impassive as always. It made things worse, oddly enough, that she would find my twin brother cute, speaking of him with such wistful tones, whereas I was only her little sibling.

I spoke to her later on that night, having steeled myself to tell her the truth, but I didn't. Couldn't, actually. I sat there, mumbling about different problems that were really not so troublesome at all, feeling sharply isolated and deeply humiliated by my lack of courage as she stared down at me with her sisterly eyes, those amazing silverblue eyes, and touched my cheeks gently.

"Whatever it is, it'll pass Bud, as all things do."

It did not, not entirely, not as much as I would have wanted. I dedicated myself to hunting, taking a deep and wild pleasure in the savage chase to kill, in the challenge each new prey brought and the painful joy of aching muscles after a cold day. I grew into my role as hunter just like, with the passing of the years, Aislin grew into her role as a huntress. Her smiles became more knowing, her walk a study of seduction and her eyes an open display of mystery. Like a panther she walked among our fellow villagers, drawing her prey to her in an endless dance that she never completed, never depleted, always alert and wanted but never given to anyone. Her beauty was more than even I could have predicted, and the cold knowledge she had of it gave her an edge that was both hard to polish and hard to tame. The world was her pasture as she moved like an eel, in another reality, trapped by her unconscious magnificence in an existence that was not ours and not her own by birthright. At seventeen she was ready to be married, and requests to have her began to arrive.

"I cannot see myself handing her over to anyone," my father told me once. "She is too good for any of these people..."

I looked up sharply from the deer I was skinning, raising a thin eyebrow at his frustrated, jerky motions as he ran his eyes over endless lines of requests. "You should let her choose," I murmured, tearing a big strip of hide off the dead corpse. My father looked up at me miserably.

"You know that she doesn't want to get married," he groaned sadly. "What more can I do? Someday I'll be dead and then who'll take care of her?"

I opened my mouth to answer before thinking better of it and closing it, getting back to work on the deer, but that thought would not leave my mind either. None of these people were good enough for her, those few who had money enough to give her a good life were old already, those few who were young and fresh enough to love her were pathetically poor, and worst of all, she loved none of them.

All these years Aislin had always been a part of my life, but now the thought that she might vanish, might go away with some other man who would touch her and have her forever made my blood boil. Aislin was too good for any of them, too high for any of them to touch with their grubby, work-hardened hands; unreachable even to our father, who was a more tender version of the rough peasants she so mocked. She who was so much like my real, noble blooded parents and not like our poor father.

Our father... no...

Hers.

Her father, I realised.... not mine. And for the first time, the nuances of that simple fact truly sank in on a wholly different level. I was horrified by the implications of that thought and I tried to get it out of my mind, but once I had thought about it I couldn't just as easily erase it. We were not brother and sister, we were not related to each other. There was nothing to stop me from claiming her; the very idea of seeing her walk out of my life in the hands of another man was unbearable. It became an obsession as I watched her move around the house like a princess in her castle, casting her mercurial smiles at me and only at me, eyes twinkling in secret complicity as the endless lines of suitors cast their nets at her uselessly. The thought sunk into my mind, twisting around my heart and changing everything about her in my eyes. Her voice became intoxicating to me, her laughter made my chest feel tight and her occasional hugs took my breath away and left me warm and helpless.

She was not my sister, I had known this for years, but only now did the depth of this knowledge affect me. Aislin kept on being herself, and it was this spontaneity and natural glow that drew me to her even though I tried to prevent it, she caught me just as she had caught everyone else, me all the more for I could always see her and she was addictive. Even more so because to me, her inoffensive younger brother, she gave her most unaffected self, the real Aislin. Not the contrived image she put up for the world, but the facetious scheming woman I knew and understood. This situation became more and more difficult, trapped as I was between her unavoidable charm and the fact that she was that way to me only because I was no suitor, and I wanted to be one! I found myself yearning to have her be mine, to tell her how I felt and how she fascinated me. To let her know how much more fascinating she was upclose, how I had come to love her as a woman, not a sister or a fiancée, but an equal. I wanted her to be mine and, finally, I realised I wanted her to know the truth. I needed to tell her.

So I did... fool that I was.

I went up to her one afternoon when our father was out, having been called with the town leader to go and speak with nobles of a grave matter; I listened to her cheerful chatter on that day's menial chores as she finished washing the dishes and sat down beside me in front of the hearth. A bit too close for comfort, close enough so that I could smell the sweet oils she used on her skin and hair, close enough so that I could feel and hear the steady thrum of her heartbeat as the fire licked her flawless skin like an indecorous lover.

I longed to touch her then, to run my fingers through her hair and kiss the pulse in her swanlike neck, to follow the lines of her legs where the fire stopped and darkness crawled onwards, further and below, where no one had reached her yet. The torture of her presence was too much, the need to tell her the truth overrode all sanity as I put my arm around her waist and drew her against me. She let me, soft and pliant as she always was when I hugged her, and she leaned into my chest like a sated feline as the fire warmed us. I stroked her hair idly, and heard her laugh lowly as she reached up and tugged on mine, tilting her face upwards and back to meet mine, and looked at me with those incredible stormy eyes.

"What's up with you...?" she mumbled, raising and eyebrow quizzically. I breathed in deeply, caught by the sight of her neck and how it dipped lower and then upwards at the blooming shape of her breast, where the dress covered her up and submerged all the glory of her body in darkness.

A darkness I craved.

"I..." but I couldn't think of anything to say, there was no way in which I could explain what I felt for her or the depth of my need. I simply tightened my arms around her and leaned forward, aware of her curious look as she indulged my moods as always, until I was leaning a little too close and her eyes widened in surprise as I touched her lips with mine and kissed her, my hands straying over her stomach like a confused child's. She froze there and then, stilled her very heartbeat, it seemed for a few seconds, as I sought to make her respond to my amorous attentions. Then she jerked as if I had burned her, jumping out of my grasp to end up kneeling before me, gasping, with the look of a hunted deer in the night.

Afraid.

Aislin, bared naked from all defences, truly the prey for the first time in her life.

"What is wrong with you!?" She cried, and I could see tears forming in her eyes. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I could think of nothing. I staid where I was as she got to her feet and ran out of the house, leaving me alone.

Father came home later than night, found her sobbing on her bed, confusion having gripped her heart. I heard her cry for hours and hours on end, until father came into her room and asked her to explain what had happened. I heard the creak of him sitting on her bed and her shaky explanation of what I had done, but not why. She didn't know why.

No one did.

But father, at that exact moment, knew the truth, realised what had happened, and through the old wooden walls of our house I heard him groan in anguish. I turned around in my bed when he came to see me, feigning sleep to avoid a conversation fate had been stalling for years. Of course he had always known I was not his son, he had probably feared this would come to pass. Oddly enough, this small twist to the facts I already knew had never occurred to me. That he would have imagined I could fall in love with her... but how could I not?

There was no way in which I could avoid him. He was there waiting for me the next morning, while Aislin was not. I didn't dare ask about her whereabouts, and the cold forbidding look he gave me drew me to silence. "Sit down Bud, we have to talk." Never before had he sounded so distant and unfeeling, I wasn't sure if he truly felt like this or if he had suddenly grown to be a master at steeling his own emotions. A master at a practice which would have served me well a few hours before, I realised. Fear gripped my chest with an iron fist and I sat down jerkily, crossing my arms to still my rapid breaths.

"Father...." I tried, but he waved me to silence. I felt my spine curl at his dismissive gesture, a roughness in my throat turned my breath to shards of glass.

"I assume you know the truth then... about yourself." There was a strange tone to his voice and I realised with a pang of despair that he had come home last night changed. Something in his eyes told me that what bothered him the most was not the expectable disaster I had brought upon us, but something he had been told in the meeting.

"You are not my real father," I whispered, looking down. He nodded, but it was an absent gesture, his eyes unfocused as he looked out the window. It seemed all of a sudden as if he were here to confess some terrible sin to me, and not the other way around.

"I know you love Aislin, but for her own good you'll stay away from her," he muttered, his eyes flashing with a sudden hidden violence I had not known they were capable of. I sat up straighter and gave him a long searching stare.

"Father.. I love her, as you say, and I'm sure that given time she might love me..." he banged his fist on the table suddenly, startling me into silence.

"And what makes you different from any other boy who has asked for her hand? Do you have money? Are you rich? Do you have the means to look out for her?" he said all of these things with a savage fury I did not comprehend, and it startled me to find in his eyes a hatred and loathing that were completely directed at himself. "You yourself have agreed with me, time and time again, that love is not enough to hand her over."

My heart stopped beating as he threw my own words back into my face, and I felt a stinging in my eyes as I realised that I was indeed no better than any other boy who had asked to marry her, that I had nothing of what both father and I had wanted for her.

Though, if not for Syd... I might have.....

I clenched my teeth, caught in the vicious grip of resentment as I realised that I was trapped and saw in my father's eyes a forbidding darkness that was entirely unknown to me.

"An extremely good offer was made to me last night... even Aislin thought it was good. You will stay away from her and leave her in peace."

"But I love her father! And she might very well love me too!" I cried in anger, getting to my feet.

Father rose up to his full muscular height and pushed me back into the chair roughly. "She sees you like her little brother you fool! And you will make sure it stays that way! What do you think she thought of your advances? Did you even consider how hurt she would be? She trusted you as a brother, not as a would-be lover!"

"If she knew the truth she might think otherwise."

"But she won't hear it from you. Stay in that chair and don't try to interrupt me! If it helps any, she'll probably figure it out on her own in the next few weeks." A sadness had stolen over his features and he sat down heavily and shook his head. "Leave her be."
"But father..." how could I keep the despair out of my voice?

"What I said is final....son," he whispered the last word, and in his eyes I saw a fear I did not understand, he knew something and I did not dare guess what it was. "Aislin will be away for the next three weeks, use that time to cool off and think your actions over."

This startled me and I gave him an alarmed look. "Where is she?"

"With her future husband."

Those next few weeks were hell on earth. I played along with my father's wishes, asking nothing and saying no more on the subject. I hunted, took care of the house, cleaned what Aislin used to clean and helped out in the carpentry. A sullen silence had fallen between us where there had once been laughter and playful banter. Breathing was almost as hard as not doing so, with a fist clamped around my oesophagus and stones in my chest. I worked as I always had, adding a touch of resentment to my accustomed diligence until I knew father was avoiding me on purpose.

The only thing I could think about was her, and she moved in and out of my thoughts like a hellish poltergeist, never vanishing yet not quite there either. I dreamed of her, replaying my shameful attempt at seduction with both chagrin and desire, every corner of the house reminding me of her. Aislin's absence brought with it an unbearable silence and a constant pain that lay somewhere behind my heart and in my eyes. Father said nothing, not even where she was or when she was to be married. Not even to whom.

"You love her more, don't you... of course you would... she is your daughter after all."

To my accusatory demands he gave no answer save the occasional look of pity and regret. I knew his thoughts on the matter, just as I understood them to be true. Even if it were possible for us to be happy together, I would never be able to provide for her as he would like. If the price of her well being was my unhappiness he would pay it, as he paid in anguish for my growing hatred and her excruciating distance.

Time slowed down to a crawl and by the time three weeks had passed I was sure I had lived my life twice over in her absence.

But the day when she came back arrived at last, an ornate carriage bore her to the entrance of our cottage. So rich and delicately fashioned it was that its gold-painted carvings and lavish draperies made our house seem no more than a shabby barn. I looked down on it from my window, feeling my heart speed up as she stepped out of the carriage daintily but with firm resolution, clad in a dress of deep turquoise silk and fine furs, covered in a long black cloak that molded in with her dark hair as if they were both one being. My breath caught in my throat as she waved the coachman goodbye and ran into our father's arms with an unreadable look in her face. She looked around, expecting me to be there waiting for her. I simply draw away from the window and flopped down on my bed. She had come back looking like a princess. The suitor my father had refused to speak of had turned out to be some rich noble who could afford to buy her happiness in lengths of fine clothes and strings of pearls.

I had wanted nothing more than to see her again, yet now that she was here I became all too aware of my pathetic situation, of how small and naive my love would be, compared to what she was being offered. I was only a boy and she asked for so much more. Even worse was knowing that I would have to confront her, to explain why I had broken her trust by touching her like I had. Knowing I would have to apologise for the one thing I could not stop myself from wanting more of. I curled up on my bed and buried my face in my pillow.

The soft familiar sound of her knocking on my door turned my intestines to ice. I sat up on the thin mattress feeling the ominous prick of the daggers under it, where I always kept them. My voice failed me and I did not think I had the strength to get up and open the door for her. The knowledge that it was unlocked and she could do so herself made me shiver in despair.

"...Bud..?" she spoke softly, too softly. It was the baleful tone she used on all the unwanted suitors that had flocked around her, and this final humiliation drove the strength and desire out of me in one solid blow. I fisted my hands on the stiff sheets and gritted my teeth to keep myself from screaming in rage.

"It's open," I whispered dully, waiting like a lamb on the chopping block for her to come in and judge me one last time. The though of seeing her up close dressed in the clothes of a noble sickened me. Had I been the one and not Syd... I might have heard of her, might have had her as some dull noble had her now....

Yet I never would have known her as I did, as her brother. Never would I have loved her as I do, for no one would ever love her like I did.

The lock clicked as it loosened and the hinges creaked horribly as she pushed the door open, stepping inside with uncertain strides, the long dress swishing about her legs, gathering the dust off the floor on its richly embroidered edges. It took me a few seconds to gather up enough courage to look her in the eyes, pausing on my way up to her face on her wringing hands and the sincere slump of her shoulders.

"It's been a while.. hasn't it?" She half laughed, and I looked up into her eyes, finding there tremulous fear and guilt. Guilt that weighed down on her voice and posture as she seemed to beg me to forgive her, to forget what she had done. Why such repenting looks, when I was the one who should by rights be apologising profusely?

"Yes," I agreed lowly. "Did you have fun?" I kept my voice as steady and unconcerned as I could. Perhaps if I played it out nonchalantly she would leave, perhaps if I convinced her that it had been nothing more than a passing infatuation. That I, like so many others, had stopped wanting her after she had turned me down. But her eyes held mine with such anguish I could not truly disentangle myself from the mess that our relationship had become. "Aislin... I..."

She looked away and shook her head, lifting a hand for me to stay quiet. "Don't apologise, please... there's no reason for you to do so. Had I known..." she breathed in deeply and went on. "... had I known the truth, I never would have been so... I mean...to you... I..." She fell silent at last, starting down at me miserably as I fought not to get up and hug her.

"It's all right... I should have told you long ago. I take it father explained it to you?" I looked away then, fixing my gaze on the trees outside the window.

"No, I figured it out for myself. I also figured you had known for quite a while... and why you never said anything about your family to father." That stopped me, making my snap back to stare at her in stunned silence.

"My... family?" I whispered, feeling suddenly as if the ground under my feet had vanished. What did she mean with... my family?

"Yes... your parents. Our nobles... and Syd."

Syd.

"What about them?" I hissed, breathless and coiled on the bed, nerves rubbed raw by the last three weeks reacting to her words with violence. She seemed to falter, lips tightening into a rosy line as her eyes flashed resolutely.

"Father didn't tell you?" she demanded, facing my anger with equal anger, though neither of us was truly directing it at the other.

Father...

"Father never tells us anything, haven't you learned? All he said was the you were getting married to a...." I froze, suddenly all too aware of what she was telling me. I jumped off the bed and stepped back, shaking my head slowly, backing off from her steady gaze until I was up against the wall. No... no, not that. She had probably been introduced to Syd by her future husband, being himself such a rich man. She had seen Syd passing by, and she had realised the truth. She had glimpsed him close up and she had known then, as she had never seen it while we were younger.

"He should have told you this..." She sighed and bit her lip, silverblue eyes darting to and fro as she sought for a proper way to tell me that....

"Oh.. Odin...no, not HIM!" I cried, feeling the heat rise on my cheeks as an unbearable tension found its way up my spine and into my brain. "Not him!" I fought back the sudden need to cry, swallowing down the shriek of rage that rose up in me.

"Bud... he... he's..." She looked down, clearly at a loss for what to say or how. I dug my nails into the damp wood behind me, gritting my teeth at the small wounded sound she made at last, her entire body slumping like that of a rag doll. "We're..."
"Engaged." I finished for her, finding my voice at the last when she lost all control of the situation and I found myself too cold and hurt to even cry. "You and..."

Syd.

She nodded and closed her eyes, fingers still curling helplessly against each other, nails biting into her own milky flesh. I gave her a long dark look, feeling her cringe from me as she never had before, feeling myself taller and stronger than ever in the face of this unknown meek little creature that seemed to be Aislin nonetheless. For a moment I felt the urge to crush her neck with my own fingers, to hurt her just as I was hurt. I shivered, looking away from her as my chest contracted and my breathing became ragged again. Tears stung my eyes before I blinked them back.

"I hope you're happy."

She frowned at last, shadowed eyes gazing up at me through her long dark lashes, glistening with angry tears and the same impotence I felt. "That's all you have to say?"

"Is there anything else I can say?" I demanded angrily, trying not to picture my father's forlorn shape in the room below us, crouching before the fire as he heard us tear at each other because he - and I, to some extent - had not trusted us to be able to deal with the truth.

"So you really don't care?" she asked softly, daggers of ice hidden in her voice. I pushed myself away from the wall, taking two steps forward until I was face to face with her. A sudden chill ran up my arms making my skin prickle.

"Damnit Ais, what else is there to say? You're getting married to a noble: congratulations. Enjoy your life, write occasionally." She didn't even flinch at my tone, but I got the impression that she was trying not to do so anyway. "I wish it was me you were marrying." I regretted the words the moment they left my lips, yet I did nothing to take them back. Her eyes softened and she moved forward, shortening the gap between us.

"Oh Bud... you know... if things had been different, it might have been you indeed." She smiled, but it was more a smirk than a true smile. I let out a long breath, feeling the same pain I had been fighting for the past weeks string itself together in my solar plexus and squeeze outwards, as if to crush my chestbone out.

"But it's not." I cut her off scathingly, unwilling to take that train of thought any further.

"I wish it was," she admitted at last in a feeble voice. Too low for father to hear, too weak for me to recognise it had been Aislin who said it and not some little girl from my dreams. I felt my eyes thick and burning. It took me a few moments to realise that I was trembling, that she was close to tears herself.

"Aislin... " I begged her softly, unsure of what it was I asked for. She moved forward and hugged me gently.

"There is no man I feel more comfortable or happiest with. Even if your are like a brother to me." I stiffened in her arms and drew away, stung beyond comprehension by her words.

"I don't want your pity," I told her frankly, pushing her away carefully.

"Who said it's pity? I'm saying I love you!"
"Like a brother," I interjected coldly.

"What more do you want? It's all you've been to me... and we'll never have the chance to become anything else anyway!" She stomped her foot angrily, her cheeks flushed crimson.

"You can always practice with Syd," I spat at her, moving back to the bed and turning my back to her, determined to not let her see my anguish.

"Yes.. I can always pretend that it's you and not Syd," the leering tone she used pricked my spine. I turned to look at her, aware of what it was exactly she implied.

"Then you are more pathetic than I imagined." I hissed coldly. She rocked back as if I'd struck her in the face, paling until her skin rivalled in whiteness with the snow outside.

"And all you'll have is your imagination. Winner takes all," she growled, gathering up her layered skirts and turning on her heels to leave the room. I sucked in my breath and banged a fist against the bedside table.

"Yes, winner takes all. Syd has the money... so he gets you. You are one expensive trinket." She froze on the spot, shoulders straightening. "I wonder... does he love you at all? Or...."

"He wanted to meet me, that's why I went to stay over. I think he honestly likes me. Are you jealous he can actually afford me?" I heard father groan below, heard that tortured sound just I could hear her panting breaths, even if her back was still turned to me.

"Does it make a difference if I am or not?"

"Not really," she replied swiftly, tossing her hair before stomping out of the room, slamming the door closed behind her.

I stood breathlessly for a few moments, trying to piece together the conversation and all that had been said, the image of her sad eyes burned into the back of my head. Aislin and Syd.

Aislin and Syd.

My legs gave way under me and I fell on the bed, tears searing my eyes and my cheeks. "Damn...." I whispered, unable to understand how it could have come to this or how I could fix it.

Aislin left the next morning. I didn't know if she had meant to stay only one night on purpose, or if she left out of spite. Regardless, she was gone early in the morning; having told father to come to Syd's lands later on to discuss the terms of the marriage with his parents. He gave me a pleading look as he left later on, eyes hollow and aching.

"You know you can't come, or go to see her. It would... complicate things for her." I said nothing, didn't even bother to look at him. In the face of my silence: "You want the best for her too, don't you?"

"Of course I do," I answered acidly. "I love her."

"Bud..."

"Just go."

Later that night I sat in front of the fire, holding both daggers in my hand, watching the play of light on their studiously carved sheaths. Syd and Bud. Syd and Aislin. My twin, who now not only had all the money, the name and the parents, he also had the one thing that had made my life worth living. He had Aislin. He had the woman I loved. I'd have given anything to kill him right there and then, wanting above all else to have his life, his home, his inconceivable luck. I would have killed to have it.

I could kill him to have it all.

I felt a cold determination grip me as I stared into the flames, feeling the warming sheaths in my stiff, cold fingers. There could be only one of us, if I....

Killed Syd.

I gripped my dagger and flung his into the fire furiously, watching calmly as the flames licked away the gold enamel, charring the soft velvet swirls in slow strokes of pure heated rage. My fingers fisted over my own dagger, with my own name written over it.

Bud.

I looked down on it, on that simple piece of a past that had never been mine, feeling the carvings bite into the skin of my palm as I held it even tighter, in a corpse-like grip. A madness had taken over me, seating itself in my heart and in my mind, leaving only her image.

Aislin...

Despite my best efforts, she refused to see me. Refused to come again, to even consider meeting me in some dark corner of her new home's gardens. I pressured father to keep trying, yet she was adamant in her denial, throwing herself wholly into her relationship with Syd. Or so I was told. News of the wedding came and went, becoming more and more frequent. I spent days on end hunting, honing my skills with the dagger, watching it gleam with blood each time. By night I dreamed of her, of her distance.

I longed to tell her of my plan, yet she steadfastly refused to see me, to even hear of me. I took to wandering the grounds in secret, watching her stride around hand in hand with a man that could, for all our likeness be an exact copy of myself. Or was I no more than his copy? Yet he did not know her, or love her, like I did. He might be nobler than I, but did he have my feelings for her? Would she love him like she loved me? Perhaps all she saw in him was a more detached and less brotherly version of myself... perhaps all that he was to her, was a meagre copy of myself.

Unless his likeness to me made it easier for her to love him, to be truly open and honest. But our differences allowed to her to see him as something other - something more- than a brother. That thought made me twist at nights, tangled in sweaty sheets I shivered in the vicious grip of my terror. And she, distant and unreachable as she had always been to others, had turned her icelike countenance and behaviour onto me. How I pitied and understood all those poor souls who had let their hopes crash against her impenetrable will, I regretted laughing at their antics when I was now no better than any of them.

And Syd had her, with no more effort than that of asking his parents to open their belt pouches for display. Father had given her to them because they had money. Aislin had accepted Syd on those very same terms. Syd accepted her as his wife knowing she came for the comfort and not for he love. Or did she? Had those three weeks changed her feelings in any way? Had his advances - if there were any- felt to her like my own? Had she found them delightful... a man like me yet not her brother? Had he cemented the road for me to find a space in her heart?

Would she want me instead of him?

Relentless, regardless of my anguish, time crawled on: a date was set.

On the day of her wedding father told me to stay home as he dressed in the fine clothes Aislin has provided him for the occasion, patting me on the shoulder he strode out. I had carefully avoided him, had behaved placid and mournful in his presence so as to distract him from my plans. On the day of the wedding I pulled away from him and ran up to my room in a pretence of having a fit, while in truth I battled a feeling of cold anticipation in my mind. A desire to tell Aislin what I planned, to have her smile at me once again, was sweeping my mind into swirls of disconnected thoughts. To love me for loving her as I did. To love me for killing for her.

On this date.

Aislin would marry Syd today. If I played it right, she would be mine by default once all was done... and we would both be together. Aislin and I, forever.

Aislin...

I waited until father was gone before I ran down to the kitchen, grabbing a mirror on the way. I cut my hair in the exact same style Syd wore, cursing him for his complicated taste as I shoved on my best clothes, which had come from Aislin as a half-hearted gift when I continued to inquire about her. Cursing her own grudging nature I pulled the silver clasps done and straightened out the heavy jacket.

The likeness was.... unnerving.

Even more so the fact that it would forever be him whom they thought of. Even if I took his place, it would be myself, Syd's piteous shadow, acting out his life in his place. Either way, Bud was nothing.

No one.

I fingered the complicated clasp in silence, studying my face -Syd's face now - in the mirror, trying to imagine what it would be like to have to answer to his name for the rest of my life. To smile at my true parents as if I did not know the truth, as if they had not left me to die like tradition demanded. It was a staggering thought, to give up my life and live someone else's, to forget I was Bud, forget all that Bud was, to become Syd once I had murdered him. Impossible! ... no... entirely too possible. To become no more than a shadow and live out my role as such. And yet, as long as I had Aislin...

As long as I had her...

I could do it, I could become Syd... as long as she wanted Bud.

I grabbed my rougher cloak, made of coarse bear fur, and ran out, using the power years of training as a hunter had given me in speed. I ran and ran until I reached the edges of the garden, listening in silence and with a mixture of anticipation and anger as voices sang and, in a flurry of acceptance, Aislin handed herself willingly to Syd.

She did it not even knowing it could be me beside her in no time at all. Could she truly want him? I shook my head and jumped in, scurrying along the shadowed, mossy walls like an elf would, unheard. I pressed my shoulders against the back of the heavy stone archway and watched in foreboding silence as she kissed him, flowers woven into her hair and her dress; he hugged her smiling.

I didn't think I could imitate a smile like that. I had never imagined anyone could smile so selflessly, in such a beguilingly innocent fashion. Certainly not a man. Not I.

I simply stared, seeing my father shake hands with my real mother and father, smiling tensely. I could only imagine his thoughts on the matter, yet the tepid darkness in his eyes spoke of what he thought of them, money or not. Yet to Syd... to Syd he gave his best smiles and affectionate pats. To this boy, who was so like myself and yet not me. This man who had Aislin because he had the means to give her what I never could. Just like I could give her a love Syd would never understand.

Because Aislin would never love him as she loved me.

Nightfall, fast and velvety as it could only be in the far northern lands where Odin reigned supreme through his priestesses, his human Valkyries. One of them was here, I noted. Tall and regal, a veil of silverblue hair stroking delicate shoulders. Hair so like Aislin's eyes... Accompanied by a tall boy who might have been my age, with icy eyes that spoke of unearthly devotion to his Lady and soft brown curls pulled back in a loose ponytail. They smiled at Syd, the Lady touching his shoulder in a benediction, then kissing Aislin's cheeks which were flushed in pleasure. I looked away, unable to stand the friendly scene or to accept how happy and tranquil Aislin appeared. Until she looked away, eyes clouding momentarily as she stared off into the distance with a touch of resignation and impotence. I studied that look, that attitude, and waited. Twice she seemed to distance herself from the wedding, to drift off as Syd's fingers touched hers, until he squeezed her hand and smiled at her. Then her face would light up and doubt would eat away at my intestines once again.

I spent the entire ceremony hidden, waiting until Aislin and Syd left to change themselves out of the ceremonial outfits into something simpler. I followed them carefully, then ran in the opposite direction. No one stopped me, apparently they did mistake me for Syd. I grabbed an errand boy and told him in which room I was going to be, where I knew Syd was, and told him to come looking for me and take me to the stables, since my father wanted me to check on the stallions. He nodded, and I prayed to Odin that Syd would accept the order and not ask him where it came from, that the boy would not tell Syd that he himself had told him to go to see the horses.

It was, all in all, a monstrously stupid plan. Nevertheless, I only needed a few minutes to talk to Aislin, to explain to her what I planned. I dashed back, waited on baited breath for the boy to come, watched in exultant disbelief as he followed to boy out of his room - the one adjacent to Aislin's- and strode off purposefully, ever the dedicated gentleman. I sighed, my heart hammering in my chest loud enough to make me fear anyone passing by would hear it. I slunk out of the shadows and walked into Syd's room, using the doorway to Aislin's that I expected to find. The lock clicked behind me as I shut it and Aislin paused in her studious unbuttoning of the layered gauzy skirts to look up curiously. I smiled wanly, hoping to make it innocent and unaffected. She seemed to relax, eyes softening somewhat.

"Can you help me out of this full body armour?" she pleaded, grinning in a slightly impish way as she pointed to the trail of buttons to lead up to her neckline. I shrugged nonchalantly and moved forward, smiling, caught in the moment. "I wondered if you would come directly or not."

She thought I was Syd....

"I couldn't wait," I whispered into her ear, fiddling with the small pearl buttons, pushing them through the buttonholes to get the dress off her. Syd might arrive at any moment, yet...

Yet...this was...

"I should think so," she admonished coyly, giving me a small smile over her shoulder. The smile froze slightly when I looked into her eyes, pupils widening for an instant. I felt my heart speed up, afraid the she realised it was me, afraid that she would scream. But her eyelids drooped and she relaxed even further. "Oh... " in a tone so like the one she used to address me with, "it's been such a tiring day."

My fingers shook as I pushed the third pearl out of its clasp, revealing her swanlike neck to the pale light of the candles. I shivered, caught in the memory of how warm her skin had seemed by the hearth, when she wore only a peasant's dress and I did not yet aspire to murder for her sake.

How could have things come to this?

I leant forward and pressed my lips to the back of her neck, lifting her long dark tresses with one hand while the other curved around her face, thumb brushing her parted lips. She smiled against my fingers and I thought I felt a small hitching sob in her chest, but no sound same. Soft lips captured my fingers and her own fragile hands touched my legs behind her back. I heard footsteps outside and froze, thinking I might be caught. Aislin didn't even pause. She turned around and pulled on her neckline, sending pearls flying through the room as her blue tinted eyes focused on mine and smiled.

"There goes a family heirloom," she whispered, pointing at the dress. I stepped back, afraid. Her eyes told me all too clearly what it was she wanted. Oh this was going too far. I could not deny the fact that I wanted her, more than I had wanted anything ever before, but not like this. Not as... Syd!

"Aislin," I murmured, fighting to keep my voice under control. But she shook her head, pulling the cloud's breath little flowers from her hair like she would pull weeds from a garden, shaking her shoulders to pull the dress off further.

"Be quiet, there's no time," she hissed. I blinked, confused. I did not understand what she meant, but I didn't dare ask lest I give myself away for not knowing something Syd would know for sure. I nodded, drawing closer as Aislin - possessed of a rage and urgency I had never seen in her - threw her clothes off herself until she stood only in a flimsy little undergown. Heir hair hung in tangled strings where the flowers had been pulled out, framing her surprisingly pale face, scared like a child's.

This was all wrong.

"Aislin, I really should..." Go. Go away. She was baring herself to Syd. She was ready to jump into Syd's bed, and here I was, ready to offer her his head on a platter.

"Later, we might not have time again," she urged at me, drawing closer until I could smell the heady perfume of wildflowers on her, of snow and pinetrees. Her cold hands touched my neck, opening my jacket. I tensed, realising that she might recognise the clothes I wore, might realise it was Bud and not Syd. She didn't even look at them, intent as she was on getting them off me. I shivered with desire as her hands trailed down my arms over the thick shirt, raising goosebumps when her fingers brushed the inside of my elbow. "Help me get this off damnit!"

I reacted violently, pulling away from her to hesitantly work at the strings that bound the shirt while she knelt and furiously undid the belts that held my pants. I felt a swell of anticipation mixed with fear as her fingers brushed against me, too intimate to be Aislin, and still... it was her. She opened the pants and pulled them down, making me feel like a small child being undressed by his mother as she helped me out of them and I stood, pulling the shirt over my head. She sighed, touching my chest and then looking deeply into my eyes as if to ascertain something in her own mind.

Damn you Syd... why did she have to want you like this? Why you?

"Wait, Aislin, shouldn't we take our time with this?" It was a feeble excuse. She stood up and gave me a furious look, as if I had said the most imbecilic thing ever.

"Time is the one thing we don't have!" she ground out. I opened my mouth to respond, to push her away, to run away myself from the intoxicating reality of having her here, bared to me while she imagined she was giving herself to her young husband. Odin help me.... I tried to say something, anything, but she pushed herself into my arms and covered my mouth with hers hungrily. A soft purring sound rose in her throat as she tentatively touched her tongue to my lower lip in a display of experience that shattered my precious preconceptions and made me afraid, very afraid. Had she done this with Syd before? Had she?

I moaned, unable to pull away despite the roiling in my conscience, not when she was so warm and open, not when she was kissing me in ways I had always dreamed she would. I pulled her closer, feeling her warm flesh beneath the thin gown pressed against my chest, the swell of her breasts tantalisingly firm.

Aislin... Odin, she felt like fire.

Her tongue touched mine, deepening the kiss as she smiled vaguely, her arms winding themselves around my neck and shoulders as if she already knew every dip and curve of my body. Syd's and mine, always the same. I wrenched myself away from her only to bury my face in her neck, tasting the warmth of her skin and sweetness of the oils against the salt of her sweat. She let out a shivering laugh, fingers dancing along my spine like feathers. I wanted to say something, but realised that at this point any word I said might betray my true identity. I had to get out of here, but to let her go...

Why shouldn't I do this? On the day of their wedding, why shouldn't I claim what should have been mine, before Syd himself...? Why couldn't I claim her love and pretend she loved me just as well? Why shouldn't I forget about what I was and what destiny had decreed... and steal this one thing? Make this one treasure mine and not Syd's?

Tears stung my eyes till I closed them to keep her from seeing them. Aislin urged me to continue, pushing me backwards until I felt the bedding against my naked legs. An irrational impulse to laugh rose in my throat, being quelled by her insistent prodding. In moment of pure inspiration I caught her in my arms and flung her onto the richly ornamented bed, much smaller than Syd's which was for sure meant as their little nest of love. Propriety and likeness to Syd be damned! I could excuse it under the behaviour of a young amorous husband being seduced by a monster like Aislin. She half laughed half shrieked, laying down on her back with her knees pressed together and a defiant look on her face. She beckoned to me with her eyes, an enigmatic smile playing along the edge of her lips. I knelt on the bed, looking at her in silent admiration.

Oh, she was beautiful... more than I could have imagined. The flush of desire that stained her cheeks like a lewd declaration lent her a humanity her icy nature had denied her all her life. I stared down at her, taking in the glorious fall of her raven hair and the unsteady rise and fall of her chest, the parted lips, so enticingly moist, her glimmering eyes that were now a misty blaze of silver in which what little blue shades could be found were eradicated by the capricious candles. I felt my lungs tighten and a rasping heat rose in my throat. To hold her, to have her... but never again...? I licked my lips, my mouth gone dry all of a sudden.

"Come," she instructed me, lifting her dancer's arms to touch me, her fingers roaming my shoulders as if she were trying to memorise my body for the first time. Or the last. I moved into her touch, running my lips over her elbow, leaving little wet marks up her arms and over her shoulder until I was leaning over her, with her hourglass body trapped between my legs. The small jerking motion of her hipbones pressed against my inner thighs made me swallow convulsively as a fresh jolt of desire speared me, making me all too aware of my inexperience and of how intimidating that womanly glow her eyes sported was becoming. "Lie down," she whispered, pulling down on my shoulders and neck with her arms, surprisingly gentle fingers touching my hair lovingly, frowning slightly as if the haircut bothered her.

I kissed her again, if only to feel her lips against mine. She giggled girlishly, eyes darting up to meet mine as she blew me a kiss and leaned forward to nuzzle my ear. I shivered, the feeling entirely strange and...erotic. I hadn't even thought of doing that. Her small, warm tongue touched my ear and I hissed, surprised and delighted, feeling a bit faint and out of my own depth.

That was an understatement indeed.

I lifted a hand and hesitantly touched her breasts, heard her breathe in and smile in encouragement, felt their curve with trembling fingers, tracing the pattern through her gown. I lowered my head to kiss one of them, caught by her smile and evident desire; jumping in surprise and then groaning in want when deft fingers slipped between my legs, touching and probing in ways that made my own hips tilt into her hand and out of my control. She laughed against my ear and pressed my face into her chest. I let her, fighting the urge to cry out as she grew bolder in her explorations, lacing strings of an unnameable emotion through my nerves, over my contracting breastbone, down below my trembling abdominal muscles that threaded themselves with the needy tickle of tension in my thighs. I let out a ragged breath and reached down to stop her wrist. She did not smile.

Her eyes seemed to have frozen up, darting as if nervous. As if time truly was lacking in this twisted honeymoon I had fashioned for us both out of a lie. But she didn't know that. The grim set of her mouth scared me even more than the passionate abandon with which she was throwing herself into this. Had Syd truly earned this amazing gift? Or was it...

Why was she so sad, all of as sudden?

"Make love to me," she demanded in an urgent little whisper. Her eyes pleaded to me, a desperate light lending them a vulnerability I could not comprehend. Not here and now. I tried to say something, but failed, unsure of what I could tell her when I was ravaging her, making her believe I was someone else because I could not... couldn't... give her up.

"Aislin..." I whispered, torn by desire and confusion. She shook her head and pressed the heel of her hand against my lips. Do not speak, her eyes said. I nodded, giving in to her wishes, bending down to kiss her fully while I ran my fingers up her legs, gathering up my resolve to do as I had so wanted to do weeks ago beside our hearth. I reached under, prodded her legs wider apart and touched her through the even thinner material of her undergarments. Her eyelids slid shut and she sucked in a hitched breath, swallowing hard before smiling and nodding at me with her eyes closed. "Yes... like that."

It was strange and warm, even more enthralling was the knowledge that she was surrendering herself to my touches, leaning back and licking her lips as I moved my fingers hesitantly at first, then with growing confidence as her breaths became faster and her fingers clutched at the sheets in anguished expectation. Her face was a study of desire, her small toes curling and uncurling as I became drunk on the sheer power of touching her like that, of being the one to give her such a variation of pleasure. She laughed softly, reaching down to touch me again, disconcerting me with her easy approach. She arched against me when I tried being steadier and faster, a soft hissing sound escaping her as she locked her mouth on my neck, her fingers taking me in sure strokes that made me gasp and moan in turn. I cried out softly when she used her thumb along with the palm of her hand, cursing whomever it was that had taught her this.

By her actions she had certainly expected Syd to be as innocent as I was. So who? Who?

But even that was meaningless, since she was mine now and her soft cries of pleasure were muffled against my shoulder. Against me. I growled and pushed her panties off, flinging them across the room with her laughter in their wake. She put her arms about me and pressed her pelvis against my contracting belly, making me squirm.

"Now," she demanded, eyes half mast and curiously blank. I nodded, pushing her onto her back, stroking her legs and her hips slowly, getting the feel of her skin. She pulled the gown over her pelvis, baring herself with little regard of decency, staring at me in a quiet and speculative way. I traced the pattern of her curves, reaching the hollow at the base of her throat with my lips, dipping my tongue there. She said nothing but her hands touched my hair and pulled me away. "Now," she said again, as if that explained everything. I swallowed nervously, letting out a soft exclamation as she touched me again, urging me to do as she asked with talented hands. I closed my eyes and pushed her straining arms away from my groin, giving her a warning glare. She smiled triumphantly and arched her hips off the bed, raising an eyebrow.

I grabbed her, kneeling between her parted legs, feeling the wild warmth her body gave off, hearing her little pants as she stared at me, defying me still.

"... Aislin..."

"I said now."

She arched even further, letting out one long sobbing breath when I finally complied to her wishes, ignoring the pressure in my larynx and the twisting of my insides. It was... sinful. Hot, strange and achingly welcome, like finding something that should have been there all along. I groaned in appreciation and pressed my forehead to her shoulder as I gathered my wits together to thrust gently, hearing her muted sounds of pleasure, seeing her become liquid and pliant and demanding all at once. I kept on moving, drugged on the feel of her, on the sharp nips of pain her nails left on my back and neck, on the way her breathing lost all rhythm each time I quickened the pace, most of all on her gentle cries so close to my ear. I found myself unable to keep quiet, shaking my head in disbelief and not really caring as the pleasure spiked, becoming one constant knifing need, stringing itself out inside me and between us until I could not longer keep it in my control. I cried out, biting my lip in sheer need as instinct seemed to reassert itself over innocence and we moved in unison, bound by the straining, tightening pull between our legs, by the effort, the pain and the inevitable leaping sensation.

She murmured something: it was lost amidst our frenzy. I think I laughed, grabbed her shoulders and slammed in further when I heard her cry out, not in pain. Her legs wrapped around my waist and I changed the angle, my arms quivering under the exertion, that tension becoming one more string of desire in the tangle of our devouring actions. She gasped, moaned something incoherent and urged me to go faster, her arms going around me in one spasmodic movement as her hips jerked and she sobbed against me; eyelids fluttering madly before tensing in my arms like a coiled spring and letting out one last cry, dissolving under me. I stopped moving, stared down at her, gasping for breath.

One blue eye opened, surprisingly clear. Arms found my hips, pushed me forward. I hissed and picked up the rhythm, feeling her arch into my wishes, giving where I demanded, pulling me into a timeless expanse of sensation, until I felt my chest contract and all the gathered emotion seemed to snap like a whip and lash out at my hips. I cried out, half in pleasure half in amazement, shuddering under the onslaught of something for which I had no name and had never had such high expectations. I sucked my breath in one ragged gasp and fell against her, heard her laugh quietly and curl around me in perfect satiation.

Only then did I become truly aware of what had transpired, and with whom. I fought to stay relaxed, feeling dizzy and afraid, knowing Syd would be here any moment. Aislin felt cold in my arms, the undergown offering no help. I bit my lip, wincing as I hurt the tender spot where I had cut it with my own teeth a few moments ago. Her hands touched my face suddenly, forcing me to look at her.

"You must know something," she whispered, low and oddly pained.

"Aislin..." I had to get out of there. I had to leave... Gods, hadn't I come here to tell her of my plan? Oh Lord... Odin, help me, what now? "I have to..."

"Listen!" Her fingers pulled on my hair, hard enough to hurt. "Listen and then do as you will. I have made many mistakes in my life... and those mistakes have hurt people I love."

"Please... can't we talk later?" Don't tell this to me! Tell Syd! I am not Syd! Never will be!

"No... I don't know if I will be able to say it later. Listen to me... no matter what happens, or who we end up with... what we become in the end, years later... here and now...." her eyes flickered in anguish, then pooled over with tears, becoming soft and pleading. ".. here and now... I love you. And I will love only... you." At that last word she leant up to kiss me. I felt the world freeze over, my eyes burned while steel seemed to have been poured into my bones, searing away the pulp and marrow of my being.

Only you.

Syd.

Only Syd.

I trembled, unable to respond to her kiss. She pulled away and stared hard into my eyes, her lips falling slack as she saw my murderous expression. Her eyes closed up, she paled and drew back. What little air I could find came in hoarse gasps, anger made me seethe inside, reality reasserted itself over my previous languor. Our eyes were locked together, mine breaking her defences, watching as tears came again. I got up in a hurry, blinded by my fury I shoved her away roughly when she made to press herself against my back.

"Get away from me!" I cried, pulling my clothes on as fast as I could, fighting with the ornamental clasps and pulling them together as best I could. I heard her saying something, I didn't even listen. I didn't even look at her... I had not strength left to do so. Anger drove me away, and I followed suit, dashing out of the room and into the shadows, running through the thorns and brambles of the garden, welcoming their lacerating caresses as I had welcomed hers, running until my lungs ached and the fire in my mind had simmered down to a low raging in my midriff. I ran until I had no more energy left in me, until shards of pain crawled inside my muscles and I had to stop to regain my breath, arms thrown against a solid tree trunk.

I pulled the clasps open, breaking and twisting them to free my neck, felt the jacket slide open. Humiliation rose in my throat as I felt my pants slip slightly on my hips, unbelted as they were. I reached down, blinking furiously against the cold wind and the urge to cry, tightening the belts one by one, my numbed fingers unresponsive. Until I touched my side and cold awareness mingled with a roaring need to shriek jolted me.

I had lost my dagger.

I prodded my clothes all over, laughing between tears as I realised that, indeed, the dagger was gone and I had no idea where. Realising it must have fallen off while I ran I shook my head, wanting to go back for it, feeling too tired to even move. I let out one small sob before straightening my resolve. Damn the dagger... what could I want it for now? There was no point in killing Syd... he had her already! She wanted only him!

Pushing myself away from the tree I staggered momentarily, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand and wincing as the frost gathered there stung my flushed cheeks.

Damn them all.

I reached the cottage by nightfall, having been forced to stop several times as my body refused to comply to my wishes, my legs folding in on themselves everytime I so much as thought of anything other than walking. Getting up the stairs was agony in itself. Once I got there, nothing else seemed to hold me together. I collapsed on the bed, crying in a way I had not believed I could, sobbing until I had no voice left, until the ache in my chest was more the strain than the pain from what had happened. I gasped hoarsely, clutching the rough bedspread in knotted fingers, my face buried in the pillow.

It was like this that father found me.

He walked in, slow and dejected. I waited for him to say something, to comment on my clothes or on the stupid haircut I had. Anything as long as it was menial and of no consequence. He simply stared at me, all tear tracked cheeks and boiling eyes. His skin was grey and waxen, lips moving in soundless horror.

It was not directed at me.

I sat up straighter, staring him through as a cold foreboding filled me.

"Bud..." he whispered, eyes wide and unseeing. When they focused on me at last they were strange, alienating. "Something has happened."
I felt myself pale, felt the fear of being discovered, of the truth coming out. I shivered, waiting for him to condemn me, to hit me. Waiting for the guards to take me and execute me for taking away a noble's wife on the day of their wedding.

Nothing came.

"F-father?" I cursed the faltering in my voice. He looked away, then down.

"Aislin..." he began and I sank down on the bed, further away from him. "Aislin is dead Bud."

A bird chirruped outside the window. I looked up at father, waiting for him to start laughing, telling me it was a joke. He didn't. He simply stared back at me.

"What..?"

"She's dead. The party was called off instantly..." he looked at me oddly. "She... they said she tried to knife her husband when he was about to..." he coughed, licking his lips. "... to stop him from consummating the marriage. When she failed... she cut her own throat...she...God..." He stumbled, slumped into the bed beside me.

I stared at him, unable to process the truth in his words. It was impossible. I had been with her a few hours ago. I had made love to her a few hours ago. She couldn't be dead. It was impossible.

"No..."

"I'm so sorry Bud... you were always right..."

No...

"I should have never asked her to marry someone she didn't love..."
I was impossible....

"And she loved you so much... she could have learned to feel for you as something other than..."

She had been alive when I left her!

"... it was so wrong..."

Aislin!

"...Bud...?"

I looked at father, a frozen certainty gripping me: I couldn't cry. I wouldn't cry. The tears simply didn't come, nothing seemed to come. The previous turmoil I had felt had vanished, leaving only the staggering knowledge of what had happened. The pain would come eventually, I knew it would. Hours later, when my father had been called to speak with Syd's parents, I lay sprawled before the hearth and found the exact measure of agony her death produced in me. I writhed on the coarse bearskin, tearing bits of fur off and biting my fingers to stop from crying, fighting the dry heaves each spasm in my chest brought with the rush of air. But no tears came; the familiar burning in my eyes had deserted me at the foot of her bed. I lay there, staring at the flames as pain raged through me and the reality of her death sunk in.

Aislin was dead.

She wasn't just gone for a time, she was dead. I would never see or hear her again. I would never touch her again as I had that night. Syd would never hear her declarations of love. If love was what she had felt....why had she done it? Had she imagined it was Bud who came in after me, her dejected brother who came to rape her after she had lain with her husband? Never imagining that the true crime had been committed by her own leave, that Syd had been Syd and not Bud, and that I, whom she had confessed love to, was not her husband but the man she had though she tried to kill. It was too immense, to insane and too unreal.

Yet it was perfectly real.

Syd had won... and lost. No one would have her now, but in that last moment, she had been his. Completely his, and the fact that he did not know did nothing assuage my guilt and the roaring fury I felt at knowing it. At having been there when she confessed her love to him, and only him.

Father was allowed to go free. Aislin's reasons were never discovered; I said nothing on the matter. Her memory plagued me, her moans of pleasure, her laughter as she cleaned the dishes, her feminine little smiles when she was barely ten and growing. What she was, what she had become, what she could have become; it twisted inside me like a festering wound. Syd was always there, a vile memory, an even more vile truth. Always the bright one while I shadowed him at all times. I followed him around, watching him and wondering what the betrayal of his young wife had meant to him. I took pleasure in knowing he would never know Aislin loved him, that he would always remember her face as she lunged at him, then slit her throat in dejection.

I made my life into a game of push and pull, following him at all times, laughing at his pains, his humiliations, his losses and his failures. Seeing how his gentle and loving upbringing had made him into a weak and fallible child. A useless man. I lived his life one step behind him, shadowing him like a nightmarish curse, struggling to excel in all that he failed, knowing that one day I would face him and he would fall. He would know I had always been one step behind, yet one step ahead.

But he would never know that Aislin was his, because she had been mine first, and that was the one thing I would not give him back. I loved her cursed memory even if it tortured me day and night, hated him for teaching me that even if I bested him in everything he would still be the best in the one thing that had mattered the most to me. Even if I defeated him... he had already won. So I vowed to follow him all the more closely, and stab him when he least expected it, break his soul as he had broken my heart.

Then came the War. Crazy, irrational. I followed him around, dealt with what he couldn't deal, hated him with a renewed passion as he once again stood in front of me, blocking me, turning me into nothing more than a shadow of what he was. Until the Lady offered me his place, his life... everything he was. If he failed... if he died...

I fought for her, fought behind him, laughing at his mistakes. But then the final blow struck him down, I could only watch in confusion as an image of old flashed before my eyes. I saw him laughing, cheeks tinted a soft pink as he cuddled that little rabbit. I saw his dagger as he handed it to me... saw the way he smiled at his parents. Always the innocent one... always the one to win. And now, dead as he seemed to be, I could not feel victory. I couldn't even smile. Aislin had loved this man instead of me... and now I regretted his death. I mourned the man that had made me what I was, who had shaped with his failures the very strengths of my being.

Loneliness was a strange feeling for one who had always thought himself independent. I suddenly felt bereft of a guide to my life. I stepped out of the shadows with a hollow laugh, I fought with no passion and no knowledge of what I did.

I lost.

And then Syd, damn him to hell, got up, gripped my opponent and told me to defeat him. He got up only to willingly surrender his life to me, because he had known I existed. It was madness, I couldn't do it. He knew who I was, he didn't hate me. He wanted to die for me! I had killed him, killed the woman we both loved, and he wanted to die for me! For me!

For me...

I couldn't do it, I couldn't even summon up my old hatred. All I saw was the face of a little boy, and Aislin's pleading eyes. I had fashioned myself into an inverted copy of what he was; my own shadow's instincts kept me from killing and hating that which made me a shadow. To take his place... to deny what I was in my own soul.... Nothing in my life had ever made sense, not since I realised we were brothers, yet there and then, in the snow, defeated as we both were... at last I felt that we were equal. We had lost, we were nothing. The comforting feel of his cooling body against mine only confirmed it, I felt warm blood run down my legs and I knew I was too hurt to be moving. I carried his familiar weight back to that which had been our home, my steps becoming less real and less connected to my body.

"Syd..." I looked down at him, at his pale face and blue lips, felt the prickle of tears that came once again as they should have when I was a child, instead of the hatred that had consumed me. His heart had stopped beating a while ago, his ethereal smile chilled me. How could he love me, when I had...?

I collapsed at last, giving up on the nonsense that had become our lives. The fact that he had loved me became almost dreamy. Who cared if he loved me or not? We were no better than the other, he and I. Two of a kind, destined to fail in that which should be important. Defeated warriors, never knowing how to love. Never trusting those we should have trusted with the truth. We deserved each other fully.

It was only when I began to feel the cold that I realised that something was nudging my belly. I summoned what little strength I had left to pull away from him, to stare down at the hard spot near his thigh that had been digging into my wounds. My vision was blurry, yet I saw something poking through the thighs of his cloth. I gripped it, pulling. It came away, cold and covered in frost, with the velvet torn and the gold peeling off the edges. My dagger. I stared at it, shaking Syd's shoulder in a vain attempt to get him to answer. His death loomed above me and I cried out in anger and disbelief... why? Why my dagger?

Had he found it in the forest? Had someone given it to him?

No...

Why to him, when it had my name on it? Then... had it....?

Had I lost it in the room? Beside Aislin's bed? Had this been the weapon with which she had tried to kill him? But if she had used this, then it meant she knew who had left it. She knew it was me who had made love to her... then why had she tried to kill Syd if she lov...

Oh Odin...

I laughed and laughed and laughed. Tears streamed down my face and froze there as I kept on, caught by the morbid hilarity of the truth. That Aislin had known all along who she had made love with, that her urge to hurry me, her frantic behaviour... her final words... had been for me. She had confessed her love to me, and I never realised. All this time, I had already won. I had made Syd my shadow and I never noticed, I never knew that I had gotten my heart's desire.

I stopped laughing at last, gripping the dagger as hard as I could until I no longer felt my fingers and breathing become less important. His face, so close to mine, was angelic. That he had known all along as well, that he had kept my dagger and had, at last, forgiven me for taking her away.... for making his life a shadow of mine.... for making me a shadow of what we both should have been...it was ridiculous. I leaned my head on his shoulder, letting out a breath to warm his frozen lips, realising that I had no strength left in myself to do it again. So I cried softly, cried until I didn't even know if I was crying or not, until I didn't feel my body and until the pressure in my chest gave way to nothing. Then I only relaxed, and remembered Aislin, always Aislin... who had known the truth. My love for her had been the one good thing I could claim to be mine and only mine, so I clung to that memory and to the warmth she had given me that one night; I clung to it until I stopped feeling cold and her laughter began to ring in the distance.

Until I truly stopped breathing - and smiling - I gave into the stupor and closed my eyes.

THE END

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TofFzzonline: VEEEEEEEERY late Bday present for Derre-chan! ^_^ *smoooooooooch* It was hard to write and took quite a while (ask her, she can tell you! ^.^U) but it is DONE! WHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!!!! A gothic, depressive, Bud/Someone-with-sex-scene-and-plot fic! I'm so proud of this little fic.. hehe... I wonder if I should go for Hagen next....*speculative grin*