(Untitled)

[abotticellilady]

Bianca managed to walk to the House of Arch, managed to walk through the painting, for two reasons; she had her pride, and she never let go of Arithon's arm. Inside the House, though, it was different - it was safe, and she knew it. It was safe, so she stumbled and fell to her knees

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[prince_arithon]

He fell with her, arms going around and some soothing yet wordless song being murmured to her. Eventually, of course, words develop and they echo the spaces in his mind,

"He will not touch you, Bianca. He will not."

I will kill him if he tries. Sanluin will kill him if he tries. Asandir will kill him if he tries.

"You are safe, my love, safe."

[abotticellilady]

Bianca clings to him, her normal calm shattered in a thousand pieces.

"I hate him, I hate him, I hate him so much...Oh, Dio, Arithon...why is he here?"

Possibly, she is hearing what her husband is saying. Possibly not.

[prince_arithon]

"I do not know, I do not know my love, my heart."

His voice is soft, smooth, and as beautiful as ever. He pulls her closer, ignoring the fact that they are in the entry of the House, and presses soft kisses to her hair.

[abotticellilady]

Her body is shaking, her eyes closed as she just lets him support her.

Feeling useless, and scared.

"I ripped out his throat...I shoot him, beat him, and ripped out his throat, and I should...have...why didn't I kill him?"

[prince_arithon]

Eventually he slips a hand behind her shoulders and the other behind her knees; picking her up and taking her to their rooms: protected by being in the House, protected by his wards, and most of all...home.

"Oh, my love, because you are better than that. It should have been enough, and it is not in you to desecrate what should be dead."

[abotticellilady]

She laughs, softly, more a sob, really. But the laugh was bitter to begin with.

"Maybe. You know...I thought he was dead. Killed six years ago. But, when he walked in...it was from a city. I don't...I don't understand."

[prince_arithon]

"I know."

He kisses her head, gently, and sets her in the most comfortable of chairs in their sitting room. He doesn't sit, yet, in case she wants something. Anything.

If it were not for the rules, he would call up the Trump and request Random bring Ramon. He would request his caith'd'ein kill for him that haunter of Bianca's dreams.

[abotticellilady]

Bianca just curls up, wrapping her arms around her lower legs and looking, for once, the barely twenty-two she had been when she died.

"Arithon? You can't kill him. Well, maybe, magically, you can. But Ramon can't. You shouldn't - he'll die in fire."

[prince_arithon]

"Do you wish me to kill him?"

He will if she asks him to. He will Bind the vampire, and peel it out of the body it has inhabited. Not, however, being Asandir that would most likely result in Santino's soul being shredded along with body and invading spirit.

He'd do it anyway.

[abotticellilady]

"...I can't let you."

[prince_arithon]

He closes his eyes tightly, and nods.

[abotticellilady]

Slowly, she lifts her head.

"...hold me, though?"

[prince_arithon]

"Always."

Now he does slip into the chair with her (after getting his leather vest off)...one of the benefits of being very small, yes? Strong arms circle around her,

"And I shall craft for you wards, Bianca. Against anything that he can do."

[abotticellilady]

She leans back against him, head on his shoulder.

"Anything?"

[prince_arithon]

"If you can describe it, I can ward against it."

He thinks for a moment, and dips his head,

"And my full range of standard wards as well."

[abotticellilady]

"When I can think, I can't...I can't at the moment."