She dropped awkwardly to sit next to him on the floor against his leg. Her chin came to rest on his knee as she looked up at him knowingly, a faint smile touching her pale lips. �You have been thinking of him again. I can see it on your colors�just little bits of memories fading on the edges.� She could read his aura like anyone else would read his expression and it often gave her insight he wished she didn�t have. He didn�t like burdening her with it, nor did he like the way she always took this pose with him. It was submissive, the way she sat down at his feet like this, and he didn�t like what it implied she might be feeling. But it was what made her comfortable, so he didn�t argue the point for now.
To distract her from her questions, he tousled her hair, giving her a brotherly smile and settling back in the chair to focus on her more readily. �To worry about me when you have a great hulking man waiting on you. What silliness is this? That man worships the path you walk, and you sit here pondering over my mind rather than spending time with him?� It had the effect he had hoped for; she moved her chin from his knee and dropped it to one side, giving him a shy smile as she thought of her suitor. �He is taking a shower and then he will go down to the other side of the lake to scout a place for our house to sit on.� Her expression changed with the words, as she looked up at him, worry showing in her eyes. He frowned at this worry, reaching out to touch her cheek in an attempt to ease it. �I forgot to ask, since you own all of this land�would you deed us a bit on the other side of the lake for a house appropriate for Gorthos� size?� The man she was enamored of was a large man, near seven foot tall and close to four hundred pounds. As Gareth wasn�t a small man himself, this house had been created to accommodate that but her suitor was a larger man than he and he was still inconvenienced. �Of course I will give you the land, I could not ask for better neighbors. But are you sure you want to move in with him? He has been gentle with you, but this is something rather binding.� His concern was rich in his voice, obvious without her psychic readings. The man that courted her was of a bloodline known for war and violence as a matter of lifestyle and entertainment, and short of temper. With his size, should one of his violent frenzies hit she would be crushed within his grip so easily he could not gain his control before she was irreversibly damaged.
She patted him good naturedly, giving him an indulgent smile, well used to his fatherly intentions towards her. �Gorthos has a heart as soft and sweet as a lamb, Kako.� She used the Romani endearment for Uncle, as he was this to her as he was to all of Kiara�s adopted kin. �He would harm himself before he ever let a hand raise to put violence to me.� She spoke this is complete certainty, and it shone from her in quiet ways. �He says I make him happy, and that his life is better now that he has me to share it. He helps me forget�and has promised to help me lose some of my weakness. He will show me how to defend myself, and in that I will grow stronger.� She watched him, catering to him perhaps as she squeezed his hand. �You cannot be here always to protect me, nor can he. I have to stand alone sometime.� It was something that all of the extended Draken family felt, that this girl was one of their own and was too weak to care for herself so all kept their watch out for her. This was no insult to her; the one that had taken her life and brought her over to his existence had been a threat to her from the beginning and was held at a distance for her safety. So as she was without a teacher, the family had taken her under their collective wing. She was taught a bit of many different bloodlines, only one of which was the vampyre line she actually carried. But even with this teaching, she was still physically damaged and they worried for her.
She rose from her seat, leaning heavily on him to do so. Her fingers clasped hard over the curve of his leg as she straightened to lean in to kiss his cheek, smiling down at him. �Kako, no more worries for this night. It is time to make peace with the past and either face it or release it.� She didn�t give him chance to comment, knowing that he would remind her that she had her own past to overcome. �I work towards the same, before you lecture.� The peaceful joking moment was interrupted by a sound in the doorway, a deep sound of a man clearing his throat for attention. The large man in the doorway smiled down at her, a fountain of affection burning in his hazel eyes and a gentleness not seen when he had first arrived now a natural part of his bearing. Jaran offered him a warm smile, giving Gareth a soft pat before turning from him to make her way to Gorthos, taking the man�s arm to allow him to lead her downstairs to begin their evening together. Gareth watched them leave, smiling for her fortune but feeling a sense of loss at being alone again. Not wanting to dwell on it, he turned over her words in his head to ease the feeling. Some time later, he sighed, turning to his desk and picking up a pen and paper to write a letter, one that had been long needed and delayed.
Gareth was drawn out of his memories as his mind suddenly became conscious of another presence in the room. A curse rose to his mind at the complete distraction that had not allowed him to notice the other in the room sooner. Such complete submersions in his memories were going to get him killed one night, for lack of his guard. His eyes rose warily to the door, almost expecting for that being of his memories to step from the fabric of the past to torment his present in a physical form. His body slowly released its tension as he saw the frail young woman leaning against the doorframe as if she needed it to hold her up. He offered her a faint smile, the sight of her not only familiar but welcome as she ambled across the floor to him with an awkward unsteady step. She was a fragile looking creature, her small frame only accented by years of malnutrition and hunger. Her death and rebirth as a vampyre had filled out some of the gauntness of her body and face, but she still showed the thinness of her mortal form. Her eyes were ungodly pale, once a vivid hazel green but now reduced to an almost milky white. From her slight frame hung clothes that clung to her desperately in an attempt not to drop, a long loose skirt clinging to her and dragging the floor a bit behind her in a aged black lace pattern under a long loose black shirt of worn cotton with sleeves that far extended past her pale hands. Her dark hair was drawn through with strands of white, just slightly waved as it dripped down over her shoulders in a careless tumble. She carried with her a sense of uncertainty, hesitant in all things even when she was not. Her movements were paused, and her voice so soft that is never rose above a whisper, damage to her throat from childhood slavery and a collar that crushed her throat having stolen any volume she might have achieved in her speech. So here she was, a child that came across in need of a constant protector, although her life and her childhood torments in slavery showed her to be a stronger soul than any could believe to look at her.
She dropped awkwardly to sit next to him on the floor against his leg. Her chin came to rest on his knee as she looked up at him knowingly, a faint smile touching her pale lips. �You have been thinking of him again. I can see it on your colors�just little bits of memories fading on the edges.� She could read his aura like anyone else would read his expression and it often gave her insight he wished she didn�t have. He didn�t like burdening her with it, nor did he like the way she always took this pose with him. It was submissive, the way she sat down at his feet like this, and he didn�t like what it implied she might be feeling. But it was what made her comfortable, so he didn�t argue the point for now.
To distract her from her questions, he tousled her hair, giving her a brotherly smile and settling back in the chair to focus on her more readily. �To worry about me when you have a great hulking man waiting on you. What silliness is this? That man worships the path you walk, and you sit here pondering over my mind rather than spending time with him?� It had the effect he had hoped for; she moved her chin from his knee and dropped it to one side, giving him a shy smile as she thought of her suitor. �He is taking a shower and then he will go down to the other side of the lake to scout a place for our house to sit on.� Her expression changed with the words, as she looked up at him, worry showing in her eyes. He frowned at this worry, reaching out to touch her cheek in an attempt to ease it. �I forgot to ask, since you own all of this land�would you deed us a bit on the other side of the lake for a house appropriate for Gorthos� size?� The man she was enamored of was a large man, near seven foot tall and close to four hundred pounds. As Gareth wasn�t a small man himself, this house had been created to accommodate that but her suitor was a larger man than he and he was still inconvenienced. �Of course I will give you the land, I could not ask for better neighbors. But are you sure you want to move in with him? He has been gentle with you, but this is something rather binding.� His concern was rich in his voice, obvious without her psychic readings. The man that courted her was of a bloodline known for war and violence as a matter of lifestyle and entertainment, and short of temper. With his size, should one of his violent frenzies hit she would be crushed within his grip so easily he could not gain his control before she was irreversibly damaged.
She patted him good naturedly, giving him an indulgent smile, well used to his fatherly intentions towards her. �Gorthos has a heart as soft and sweet as a lamb, Kako.� She used the Romani endearment for Uncle, as he was this to her as he was to all of Kiara�s adopted kin. �He would harm himself before he ever let a hand raise to put violence to me.� She spoke this is complete certainty, and it shone from her in quiet ways. �He says I make him happy, and that his life is better now that he has me to share it. He helps me forget�and has promised to help me lose some of my weakness. He will show me how to defend myself, and in that I will grow stronger.� She watched him, catering to him perhaps as she squeezed his hand. �You cannot be here always to protect me, nor can he. I have to stand alone sometime.� It was something that all of the extended Draken family felt, that this girl was one of their own and was too weak to care for herself so all kept their watch out for her. This was no insult to her; the one that had taken her life and brought her over to his existence had been a threat to her from the beginning and was held at a distance for her safety. So as she was without a teacher, the family had taken her under their collective wing. She was taught a bit of many different bloodlines, only one of which was the vampyre line she actually carried. But even with this teaching, she was still physically damaged and they worried for her.
She rose from her seat, leaning heavily on him to do so. Her fingers clasped hard over the curve of his leg as she straightened to lean in to kiss his cheek, smiling down at him. �Kako, no more worries for this night. It is time to make peace with the past and either face it or release it.� She didn�t give him chance to comment, knowing that he would remind her that she had her own past to overcome. �I work towards the same, before you lecture.� The peaceful joking moment was interrupted by a sound in the doorway, a deep sound of a man clearing his throat for attention. The large man in the doorway smiled down at her, a fountain of affection burning in his hazel eyes and a gentleness not seen when he had first arrived now a natural part of his bearing. Jaran offered him a warm smile, giving Gareth a soft pat before turning from him to make her way to Gorthos, taking the man�s arm to allow him to lead her downstairs to begin their evening together. Gareth watched them leave, smiling for her fortune but feeling a sense of loss at being alone again. Not wanting to dwell on it, he turned over her words in his head to ease the feeling. Some time later, he sighed, turning to his desk and picking up a pen and paper to write a letter, one that had been long needed and delayed.
September 25, 1295
Our dear Princess of the Manor is growing quickly. Only of her third year and already so sure of her own power. But none of this house seems inclined to rob her of such assurance, so beliefs of the nature are accurate. She rules already, her own little kingdom of servants and peasants here to please her wishes. With her Minister at her side to advise her on matters of her decisions, Morgan keeps her quietly at a length, making sure that she doesn�t get too far into trouble before she is pulled back to safety with those around her. They have an odd and very close bond, my niece and nephew, he mature beyond what his slight years would gift him naturally, and she so strong and full of self will. I don�t know what be done with the two of them. My only hope is that he is the one to chose his sister�s Lord, for the Lady Iliana will search only for gold and status and she needs a man of heart and strength. I worry for the two of them, for ominous signs already cloud the horizon and I receive word today that war brews in France, one that I may not be able to decline inclusion in. I have been warned, not called as of yet. Things are too tenuous here, with Esiah and with the children������
�Uncle Gareth!� The voice was soft but persistent, a child�s voice that rose above his thoughts and dragged him from his writing. From that day on there would be a streak of ink where his mind was jerked from his writing and his hand slipped as his body instinctively turned towards the sound. The soft accent, a mixture of noble English, and soft Irish, her father�s accent which she readily preferred to the nasal and very tight upper class and almost royal sound of her mother�s voice. The girl scampered into the room, dressed in a long pale blue dress dropped from a slightly elevated waist and wide bell sleeves. Her hair was pinned as well as it could for a child her size, riotous tight curls already half down her back, in almost as much of a frenzy as she herself was. Energetic and commanding, even at this young age, she only stopped when she was right at his side, looking up at him with a confident air and a faint smile that she was trying to hide. Her pale ice blue eyes glittered with darker blue flecks, mischief on her mind to be sure. Such things were now easily readable in those eyes, which changed with her mind.
He leaned down a bit to the young Lady at his side, looking her in the eye on a bit more even level and smiled at her with warm politeness, not about to spoil her game. �How may I be to service, M�Lady?� It was an awkward position this, bent over to look at the child but she was enjoying his difficulties for her benefit so he didn�t move. �Uncle Gareth, Father wants time with you.� The child�s innocent words would have brought a blush to his face was that possible, but he managed to compose himself from the explosion of memories and sensations that filled his head at her statement. �I will make appointment immediately to see to his needs, Lady Anne.� This name was one only spoken to her by her Uncle and Father and only in the most private of situations, for the Lady of the Manor had decreed she would be called but no name but her Christian name, Victoria. Her brother, Morgan, obeyed the edict out of the fountain of respect he held still for his Mother, despite her many acts to force the contrary to his heart.
�Father wishes speak with you, not touch you.� The voice was quiet, even more hushed than before as if she knew the gravity of such words. But of course she could not, not at her age. Gareth swung his gaze to the child to find her watching him carefully. Her voice was almost shy as she spoke her next question. �He touches you�yes?� With this, Gareth felt trapped. She was only a child but such words could be a detriment to his brother�s life, so carefully built with hard work. �Of course he does, Ailynn. We cannot partake of life and not touch one another. Handshakes, formal custom demand we touch at times.� The little girl seemed satisfied with this, and easy in her mind that whatever she had seen in that moment of her Uncle�s distraction was as this social custom he spoke of. Gareth watched her with a sigh, seeing her happily turn her attentions to his journal and the words she could not read even if the script had made some sense to her. Having a Gypsy blood in the Manor was difficult, and now that her words started to be intelligible to people, her strong visions and impressions of all around her were starting to be alarming. She was strong in the arts that the line possessed, glimpses of the future, speaking with the dead, and even reading minds at times, seeing emotions that were not shown on the face or in the body but churned underneath. She was what the olden ones would have called a mystic, but he knew better. For so young as she was, her gifts were well developed and she didn�t yet realize to all around her save few, these gifts were like demonic speaking of tongues. To them the blood that gave such gifts was the blood of evil, and he could only go so far to protect her.
His thoughts were again pulled from their dark place with a sound, this time the tapping of a tiny satin slipper against the polished wooden floors. She stood before him, hands on her hips in a most amusing dramatic matter, staring up at him with blatant irritation. �I am not in danger� She said each word distinctly, if not a bit over pronounced to get her point across. He had to smile, but careful mask his indulgence of her so she would not see it. �Of course not, M�Lady.� With that he stood, drawing the red satin marker through the pages to preserve his place with the entry and shut the journal to put it aside. Offering her a hand, he looked down at her with an openly warm smile. �Show me where your Father resides this eve, since I am to have audience.� With a quick nod, the young girl escorted him with grand production, most proud of her task and despite his slight insult at thinking she needed protecting, proud of the man beside her.
She tugged at his hand, impatient as always, but reinforced enough in the terms of polite society not to voice her demands that he put some speed to his steps. She would look up at him every so often to make sure he was still there, impatient as she half dragged him through the house to the familiar hallway and door to the Lord�s study. Only then did she release his hand, and only long enough to tug at the heavy door handles to shove open the thick wooden doors. He helped her, giving her a little push to the doors to aid her slight form to get access to the room. She burst past them as the opening became big enough for her to wiggle through, running with all the energy children have at that age to throw herself into a hug at her father�s side. �Night Papa!� Her response in exuberant tones, high and warm and tinted with laughter, her eyes sparkling with joy at their reunion as she looked up at him. It was her gift, to make all that she held dear to feel as if they were the only that existed, that they were loved beyond anything earthly and that her little world existed solely because they were there. But none more so than her father, a man she gave heart and soul to and the only that she deemed worthy of almost worship.
A smile touched the Lord�s lips, bringing himself from his logs and financial paperwork to wrap an arm around her in a hug. He didn�t look up to the man he knew she had brought with her, focusing his entire attention on his little Princess, shining like a star for him. Leaning down a bit, he brushed a kiss against her forehead before lifting her to sit in his lap facing the desk her had been working at. She squirmed in his lap, well aware that here and with him was one of the few places that she would be allowed such freedom to behave like what her Mother would call a �little savage� and turning to face him, her knees surely digging into his upper legs as she rose up on them to look him square in the face. Tiny hands came to press against his cheeks in an awkward childish touch, turning it to look at the man she brought with her. �Look Papa, Uncle is here� She smiled as if this meant they were going to the carnival, holding him gently in her hands to make him look at his adopted brother.
Gareth saw the worry and anxiety that crowded the youth�s eyes as his daughter forced him to recognize the other person in the room and sighed, misery crowding his chest and putting a steel band of pain around his ribs. He offered a polite smile and a courtly bow, as if this was some formal occasion and audience with the higher Lord was something he was seeking rather than being brought to. �My apologies for my interruption, I will show myself the door and leave you to talk.� His voice was gruff, some of that pain slipping through to affect his speech and he gave himself an internal thump for the show of weakness. They had made love since their first night together, but never when he desired. The matings after had been frantic things, borne of the Lord�s desperation, grabbing and forcing to animalistic surges that were quickly over and his lover had scrambled from his bed as if desperately afraid of discovery. He never denied his young lover this time together and if he was honest with himself, he could not deny himself the time either. The air of desperation and denial that clouded each incident was depressing to his soul, and a danger to his heart, that broke a bit more with each time the man practically ran from him in denial of himself and of Gareth. So these years their focus had been on the children, their time together in public was forced to polite and at times dramatically cheerful camaraderie. They put on a good face in their social appearances but behind closed doors when no one saw, they were barely speaking. And this, this child forcing their face off, was pure agony.
The little girl looked from one man to the other, seeing the faint rivers of unspoken words between them, and the pain that showed in each of them. They were not happy, either of them. And they thought about each other, like she knew that her Mother thought about the Prince. She was confused about why they didn�t all find those that loved them and went to them, advanced thinking for her youth, but then again a child of her age shouldn�t be able to see the depth she did into the human spirit. Wriggling her body out of her Father�s lap, she took his hand and tugged at it insistently, forcing the man to either shake her off or stand. He watched her with an almost pained expression, knowing what the little girl was trying to do but little able to deny her so he rose from his seat and allowed her to pull him across the room. �Anne�you cannot do this� It was a weak protest and he knew it, but the young Lord could not fight either his daughter or his attraction to Gareth and stopped his words before he could get much farther. Gareth already looked pained, and from what he saw in the man�s eyes he was responsible for that pain. He was tearing this man apart, and he knew it but he was at war with himself over all of this. When he was standing in front of Gareth, looked down at his adorable Anne instead of up as requested by the girl. �Anne you cannot force this.� The girl just smiled up at him and shoved at the back of his knees, causing them to unlock and near drop him to the floor.
Gareth saw Esiah start to fall and automatically stepped forward to wrap his arms around him, keeping him from going far. He looked down into the startled brown eyes, seeing the discomfort and longing battling for supremacy in them. His free hand tugged at the ribbon holding Esiah�s long dark hair back, itching to sink into it�s depths as he kept his eyes locked with the young man�s. The child was forgotten as he lowered his lips to capture Esiah�s with a gentle but overwhelming passion, only felt in the tension that kept his body in check but not in the soft clinging hesitancy of his kiss. He wanted this man to accept it, take it to express some desire to have his attention. Esiah responded for a moment, a soft moan of hunger rattling his form before a thump was heard and he jumped out of Gareth�s arms like a startled colt. Both their eyes swung to the door to find a sheepish but expectant looking child watching them, her back pressed to the door to keep out intruders. Seeing that they weren�t going to start again, she sighed, moving away from the door to walk over to were they stood, taking one of their hands in each of her own. �Uncle love Papa?� Gareth nodded, his body shaking with the question. �More than my life� She nodded and looked up at Esiah. �Papa love Uncle?� Esiah sighed, knowing that was coming and after a moment of intense internal argument, he nodded as well. �I am afraid of it. I know not how to behave with it. But aye, I do.� Anne smiled at this, tugging the two men�s hands together. �Not be afraid, Uncle protect. Uncle good at protect.� Her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned a little closer to her Father. �God forgive. God make, and make as is. Not wrong. Morgan says so, he knows.� To this little angel, her brother�s word was gospel and as he marked the union as good, so did she. �Love Uncle, and be happy. Want happy Papa. Want happy Uncle.� Who could refuse the little girl�s request?