Night Falls - Chapter 3
The Lady sat up in her bed, staring at the door as the room still rung with the sound of the man's exit.  How dare that animalistic man come into her rooms and call her a whore!  A servant shuffled her way across the room, trying to avoid the woman's notice so she can slip away to her other duties.  A rage at the woman's impertinence rose in the Lady's breast.  She reacted, leaning over to pick up a porcelain jug of water from her bedside and throwing it across the room to crash against the wall just over the servant's head.  The woman ducked, holding the place where blood welled already as the jug's shards cut into her scalp.  The woman looked up then, fear shining in her eyes, only to be rewarded with a cruel shriek to get out of the Lady's sight.  The servant broke down in tears, running from the room.  She tripped before the doorway, shaking so hard she could hardly stand, reaching for the door afraid to look back at the woman as she stumbled out. 

The Lady Iliana watched all of this with a cold detachment, light blue eyes that had once been soft and innocent in her flirting with the young men of the court in her seasons before marriage, now cold and angry as they were at most times of her waking hours.  Little humor saw it's way to those eyes now, except in times like this, when the ridiculousness of those around her touched her interest.  Rising from her bed, she ignored the clench of pain caused by her body adjusting after the birth.  Scowling at the few hairs that had fallen from her pale blonde coif, she screamed for her servant, standing nude beside her bed.  The harried teenager came closer, dropping a curtsy as required by etiquette.  "You called, M'Lady" The soft shy voice came across the room, her eyes dropped to the ground as not to look on the woman's form in this state.  Iliana noted this, amused by it.  "Dare not look at me?  Am I not beautiful since I have had my children."  The young girl babbled, floundering for words.  "Of course you are, M'Lady.  I merely wished that I not offend by staring."  Yes those words seemed placating enough.  Iliana chuckled, amused by the youth's embarrassment.  "Then do not offend me by looking away.  Look child, and pray when you populate the lower classes with your bastards that you remain your figure as I have." 

The girl gasped at the words, not sure how she had deserved the cutting word the woman used and dark thoughts of her own balking at the Lady's use of the word bastard when it was well known the two children of this house were both exactly that.  No one was fooled by the name the children carried and yet the Lord loved the children so deeply another's name for them would have seemed a crime against the family somehow.  But the Lady's vanity must be sated, if for no other reason than the money desperately needed to keep the girl's family eating the next week.  Raising her deep brown eyes, she lets them roam over the nude woman, taking pleasure in the sight of stretch marks, indentions in the skin, sagging where the woman's pregnancies were showing none too flatteringly in her carefully maintained pale porcelain skin.  The glimmer of humor and enjoyment in the young woman's eyes was immediately misinterpreted in the ego of the woman before her and the Lady Iliana smiled, a wolfish smirk that screamed of self assurance in their own sexual prowess.  Her voice came out a velvet purr, as she looked the young woman before her over with her own curiosity.  "You can touch, young one.  I will not harm you for doing so." 

This had the young woman squirming, her stomach twisting at the idea of touching the Lady, as it would obviously lead to more and the woman had no interest in such things.  Feigning deep religion, she begged off with words that her mother would whip her and her God condemn her for even the thought of touching another woman as was suggested.  Iliana scowled, seeing this for the excuse it was and banished the youth, snatching at her robes to cover herself in her embarrassment.  The girl stopped at the door, tugging gently at her wheat colored hair as she watched the woman's ego crack and crumble in that moment.  At least she didn't get hurt as the older woman before her had, and she ducked out of the room glad for it. 

What neither woman noticed was a small body that stood to one side of the doorway, in the shadows.  A tiny face, so serene for one so young, turned up in prayer, the words slipping off of rosebud lips.  Hands clasped to his well-tailored shirt, bright green eyes closed tight as he prayed for his mother's soul, for the anger and violence�and of course for the scene he had just witnessed with the servant girl.  With an Amen, whispered a bit louder but with the reverence of a man deep and years into his faith, he looked back to see his mother laid over her dressing table sobbing.  He thought to go to her, his stocking feet taking him a few steps closer to the cracked open door when he heard footfalls in the hallway and he ducked back into the shadows, stretched on his toes against the wall to make himself invisible.  He closed his eyes tight, holding his breathe as the woman passed by him with the sleeping infant, and only as the smell of new baby touched his nose did he dare to open one eye a crack to watch the servant.  The woman was far too engrossed in the angel in her arms to look around for anyone in the hallway, so his efforts were nothing but comical for the mice that might have witnessed the drama of the young boy. 

He stayed where he was, not moving as the servant crossed the hallway, closing the door carefully behind her as not to wake the child.  When the woman finally was gone, he looked back at his mother, who had seemed to settle and gone back to lay down, the exhaustion of her efforts taking over to force her to rest.  Knowing that she was well and no longer in need of him, he passed the hallway, sneaking dramatically across the plush run carpets over the hardwood floors.  Carefully he twisted the doorknob on the children's suites, slipping inside and very carefully closing the door after him.  As he released the doorknob, the lock slipped into place with a loud clank that made him near jump from his skin.  He looked around carefully, waiting for the sleeping Nanny to wake and scream at him for being out of the room, but she slept on, snoring loudly.

A faint smile touched his face at that, relieved to be spared one more argument with the older woman.  Passing her form slouched in a chair in the playroom, he moved to the room they had spent the past months preparing for the new child.  The door was still open, as to let some air circulate in the spacious room.  A soft sound came from the intricate bed created for the little Lady and he moved towards it with almost reverent steps, cautious and curious at the same time.  Tugging a chair over to the side and climbing upon it, he was suddenly confronted with a set of wide icy blue silver eyes.  They stared up at him with a sense of strength and curiosity, looking him over carefully as if to place him in her life.  Whatever she found in that look seemed to hit her the right way, because a smile curved her tiny full lips and she curled her fingers a bit in a motion almost like a wave.  Morgan stared down at her, stunned, finally coming down to his knees on the chair to rest his arms on the edge of the bed to be closer to her.  One small hand reached out to press his fingers against hers.  "The Lord God is with you, sister."  He said this with all the faith of a priest and all the heart of a saint, serious and mature even at his grand five years of existence.  The baby smiled up at him again, though the expression soon melted into a massive yawn and her heavy lids dropped.  She was content, safe and her knight protector had just arrived and taken to his sentinel.  This was a bond that would go far beyond the death of each of them, but this moment was when it was deepest.  The faith and trust of innocent youth, unclouded by conflict, pain or guilt�this was pure.  Morgan watched her sleep for long minutes, making sure she would not stir again before he could see it.  Sliding down from the chair, the tired little man went to his chambers, pulling the coverings from his bed to drag them to her bedside.  Spreading them out on the floor, he curled up in the soft fabric, tugging it over as a impromptu beg as he took up his watch over his new little princess.
Chapter 4
The servants had gone, the child taken carefully from her father's arms and a still had gone over the household as the excitement of the day settled into the routine sleep of such a late hour.  The cracking of the fire in the hearth was the only thing that broke the quiet, so deafening after the earlier dramatics.  The young Lord was slumped in the seat, his daughter having been removed without waking him.  From across the room, a well familiar figure watched, brilliant blue eyes running over the sleeping man with an unseen affection.  Gently, he rose from the couch, moving across the room with strong forceful movements, as if his body could split the seam of reality itself with his power.  Reaching the man's side, he ran his fingertips lightly over the young Lord's hair, down to the strong line of his cheekbone.  A slight shake took to those well-sinewed fingers, warmth rising to the cool blue eyes as he engulfed the sight of the man before him.  This was the only warmth he had felt for millennium, tightening his limbs to restraint as he kept his touch light and his presence from waking his brother.  The servants would whisper in the hallways and the words would soon stretch out into the streets.  His brother's business thrived on his reputation and the hint of scandal, this immoral scandal, would harm his livelihood and ruin his life.  But here, where no eyes could see, here he could be weak.  He could bend to the temptation that brought him to his knees, and touch this sweet pure hearted man that had been a part of his life for the last few years.  A sigh passed his lips, the cool touch of immortality seeping through him again as the reality of his unbeating heart and the small shallow minds of the age started to take hold. 

His fingers dropped from the warm skin of the young Lord's cheek, landing on his shoulder.  He tapped it gently, pushing against his shoulder enough to rouse him from his slumber.  "Come, Brother."  His voice was soft and husky in a way that penetrated Esiah's subconscious and brought his eyes open, looking up at him with sleepy confusion.  "Gareth?"  The fogged question, in a sleep slurred voice that caused the man before him to jerk a bit straighter, his body stiffening to keep his control about him.  "You fell to your sleep, and the evening passed here will be uncomfortable come morning." 

Extending a hand to him, he waited to help him to his feet.  But the man was too exhausted, the emotional hurricane having taken most of his energy.  He had swayed on his feet, near to falling to the floor but for the support of his brother's arm around his waist.  A worry touched the larger man's brow, seeing this man he so cared for affected this way.  Esiah found consciousness enough to look up at him, confusion shading his warm brown eyes.  "I felt a brush against my face.  Was I dreaming?"  The look almost pleaded, for what Gareth couldn't tell, but this was not something he was ready to indulge at this time.  Not when the young man beside him was already so wane on the evening's emotions and was so vulnerable because of it.  He so begged for someone to take some care of him, affection being the farthest thing from truth in his marriage, and Gareth yearned to comply. 

With a sigh he all but carried the man, careful to let him walk enough that the servants would not talk overmuch, to his quarters near the children's rooms, laying him down on the bed.  A faint smile touched Esiah's lips, half asleep as Gareth loosened the restrictive lounging clothes required by this period and country, something he cursed under his breathe in an ancient language.  Shaking him, Gareth spoke to him quietly, telling him to move up the bed to be a bit more comfortable.  It was then when his long dead heart threatened to leap from his chest.  "Stay here tonight, Gareth.  Lay with me."  Was the sleeping request, made without thought, just the mortal man's desires put to words?  Gareth looked to the door, torn between his desire to do so, the awkwardness of the next evening and the impression it would make on the servants should they see it. 

With a sigh, he patted the younger man on the shoulder.  "I cannot, Esiah.  People would talk, and you would not like the retribution to be paid."  Esiah frowned in his sleep, a soft whimper only a moment long before he fell silent and the conversation ended with his sleep.  But Gareth was affected by that sound, that hungry needful shard that imbedded itself into his being and he could not have left the room even if it meant his death to stay.  Reaching out, he brushed a stray lock of hair from the man's forehead, to which Esiah turned a bit with the need of such a touch, and sighed heavily.  Compromise was made within himself, his large feral male mortal form shifting to a smaller sleek feline form.  This was a more comfortable existence for him, more natural to him as well, as one born in a temple of cat goddesses in a country that would have worshipped him.  In this form he was a bit smaller than a black panther, with the lithe form and light construction of a well bred cat, and wasn't so out of place laying at the Lord's side as he slept.  Stretching out beside the warm sleeping form, the large blue cat's eyes watched the youth's face with an affectionate dedication until the daylight started to the nearby hills and his consciousness was robbed from him for another day.
Continued.....
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