(nancytribe)
The time had come. It was then, or never.
It wasn't as if I could let the fellow go, after all. Even if I had done, it wasn't as if he would be allowed to live. The best I could do was offer a death which was the lesser, and less painful, of two evils, and hope the benefits outweighed the costs in the end. (Very cold comfort, that.)
This was not like any other death I've ever caused, even if some were just as calculated in their own way. Ethan was witness to that already, and he still loves me -- but I began to hope he wouldn't watch, this time, in spite of what I told him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Life is so very fragile. There are over six quarts of blood in a human body, but it hardly seems to take any time at all for it to drain away -- and with it, I suspect, a part of my humanity. I understood the spell far better, then, than anyone could by reading it on a page. The spell worked through me, and it was only love that kept it from being something entirely cynical and selfish.
The worst part was discovering that, far from being repugnant to me, a strange intoxication filled my senses as the magic began to flow with the blood. I realised the danger in taking a human life for magic's sake is not how awful it is, but how wonderful the feeling of seizing and controlling that kind of power can be. It was like nothing I've ever experienced before, and, I hope, never will again. It's far too seductive, and too dangerous.
The body, completely drained, hung like a piece of meat. (Like? It was.) There was so much power ambient in the air that it hardly took a thought to get rid of it. Open a pocket dimension; dispose of the evidence; close the portal. It's gone. It's done. Forget it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The blood, and part of the magic, pooled in the porcelin tub. The rest of the magic resided in me. It illuminated me with a dark, pulsing glow that was reflected in the red-black blood. 'You have to finish it,' I told Ethan in a voice that hardly sounded familiar to my own ears.
I don't know what I must have looked like at that moment, but Ethan didn't look at all happy about the prospect. Actually, Ethan looked horrified. I took a step towards Ethan, and he stepped away from me, again. This was getting old, and quickly.
'Get in,' I said, indicating the bath with a glance.
Ethan tried to get away from me instead, but I stood between him and the door. I twisted his arm behind his back, wrenched it to the point of pain. 'Please don't make me hurt you, Ethan.' I was all but begging him. 'Just do what you have to do.'
Ethan went limp in my grasp, looking rather pale, and sick. I'm not sure which reaction I liked the less.
I stepped into the tub, first, and pulled Ethan in after me. (Did I have to do everything for him?) I don't think I've ever seen anyone I didn't intend to kill look quite so terrified as Ethan did at that moment. It made my heart ache to see it. But the spell was working; I could feel it. The magic connected the power in me, with Ethan, through the power in the blood.
'This is what you wanted, isn't it?' I asked. I held on to Ethan because I was worried his squeamishness would interfere with the spell. I held him because I wanted to do.
'I thought it was,' Ethan said in a very small voice, only looking at me for a moment before he turned his gaze away. I continued to look at Ethan, unflinching. Even if he doesn't know, I do. I want him, in spite of it all.
'Maybe next time you'll be more careful what you wish for,' I told him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ethan froze, then tried to struggle against me, briefly, as I started covering his soft, pale skin with the blood. 'This might be amusing, in an ironic sort of way, if it wasn't so pathetic,' I snapped.
If I had hit him, Ethan probably would have looked at me in much the same way. I can't tell you why I said it: the stress of the magic, the nature of the ritual? That Ethan can be the most frustrating, exasperating, contradictory individual I've ever dealt with? I want him, in spite of it all.
I would have time to repent my sharp words, later, if everything worked. If it did not... neither one of us would be in a position to care. 'It's part of the spell, you have to cover yourself in it,' I explained, trying to sound gentler, but the magic didn't allow time for lengthy apologies.
'You have to cover yourself in it completely for the spell to work.' I held Ethan's head still with one hand, while I rubbed blood over his features, his closed eyelids, and through his hair, with the other.
I could feel the power flowing smoothly, bending to my will, taking the shape the spell demanded of it. I knelt, and splashed blood onto Ethan's chest from where he was sitting disconsolately on his arse. Using my hands, I covered every inch of him in it. Yes, every inch.
The magic wasn't finished with him with us, yet. Ethan was shaking with fear, but he was hard as iron. I was sickened by what I was doing, but I couldn't stop. No one can do blood magic on that scale and just stop. I wasn't going to die because Ethan decided the spell he practically blackmailed me into doing for him was just too messy for him to contemplate.
And it was fascinating. Completely and utterly fascinating. I kept doing what I had to do, offering a subtle, guiding intelligence to the magic, feeling the power unmaking, and remaking, what is and what was. I knew in that moment what it was to be able to turn back something as inexorable as time itself, bending life and death to my will.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was extremely disconcerting to me when I realised Ethan was crying.
'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' Ethan said again and again, holding onto me. My heart went out to him, but at the same time, I was furious with him for putting me in this position. 'I know I'm a coward; I was afraid I might do something like this,' Ethan told me. 'You had to do it because you're strong enough for the both of us.'
'I had to do it because I'm the only person in this miserable world who loves you,' I snarled.
I made Ethan cry again. I hated myself. I put my arms around him because he was shivering. I hoped it was only the chill in the air, and not me, that caused it. I had behaved very badly to him.
In Ethan's place, I would have pushed me away, but he did not. No, Ethan would allow me to behave like a complete prick and just take it. That wasn't right. 'It's almost finished, now,' I told Ethan, softly, trying to soothe him. 'As soon as I bind the spell, it will be over.'
Ethan swallowed hard. 'How are you going to bind it?' His hesitance told me more than I wanted to know about how much he hated to ask me the question.
I looked at Ethan, then, at the confined space we shared in the bath. 'You're probably going to want to turn around,' I said, as kindly as I could.
Ethan might have bolted if he had known how. I'm glad Ethan didn't, because I couldn't let him do that. 'Oh, Ieuan... no...' Ethan's voice was low, willing himself to disbelieve. I didn't deny it, because I couldn't.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
'It's the very last thing,' I tried to reassure Ethan, without much seeming success. 'If you start crying again, I'm not going to be able to do this. Not unwilling to do it -- I won't be capable of it.' I wanted to be certain Ethan understood the distinction.
'I can finish the spell, or the spell can finish us. It's your choice, Ethan. I can't make the decision for you. Don't forget, though, it's the both of us you'll be pushing past our sell-by dates if you tell me to not finish the spell... But don't do it just for me,' I hastened to add.
I could only delay the inevitable a short time. I already had done, and I couldn't put off the end much longer, either way. Every passing moment was becoming a greater strain on me. I was going to lose my grip on the magic if Ethan didn't decide, or decided by not deciding, the power of it would consume both of us.
'I knew the bargain when we made the bond.' I gazed into Ethan's eyes, hating myself for the fear I saw in them. 'I never expected a long life, but I did get to find out what love means... and I never expected love at all. Even if everything ends here, I'm still the lucky one, for all that.'
Decide, or die -- or decide to die. There was no turning back, no second chance, no time to reconsider. Choose, Ethan...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
'Finish it,' Ethan said, his voice so quiet I couldn't be certain of the words, at first. 'Finish the spell,' he said, again.
The relief I felt was... indescribable. Being prepared to die isn't the same thing as looking forward to it, at all. There were more than a few moments when I really did wonder if Ethan would let indecision doom us both. I took Ethan into my arms and kissed him, allowing the magic its head once more, confident the power would find the channels where it was supposed to run. 'You are sure?' I asked.
'Does it feel like I'm sure?' The sultry invitation in Ethan's tone sounded much the same in our bedroom. When he paused, he rearranged himself, palms gripping the edge of the bath, perhaps a bit too tightly. 'But... would you mind if I closed my eyes now?' Ethan asked, far more tentative.
I brushed my lips against the nape of his neck. 'Close your eyes, dillyn,' I said gently, feeling Ethan relax as he did. The small kisses and caresses we shared were comforting in their familiarity. Such gestures were as good as saying: let's just do this, and get back to the rest of our lives. In some ways, Ethan seemed even more relieved than I was.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Beneath the level of the spell we were binding, the patterns danced at the edges of my conscious awareness of them. Ethan and I know the bond we share grows stronger when magic works through both of us, all the more so when the magic depends upon our intimacy for its power. The threads of Ethan's pattern and my own are becoming so closely intertwined it's difficult to discern their edges, one from the other. Neither of us feels any great impetus to look.
There was a time when the idea of such a metaphysical blurring would have frightened me, but what it gives me in reality is a feeling of warmth and safety. It isn't difficult to project a time in future when it will be more proper to speak of "our" magic, instead of trying to distinguish what is Ethan's, and what is mine. I hope Ethan is looking forward to that, because I know I am, now.
To touch is to remind us the degree to which we remain separated from one another.
It wasn't as if I could let the fellow go, after all. Even if I had done, it wasn't as if he would be allowed to live. The best I could do was offer a death which was the lesser, and less painful, of two evils, and hope the benefits outweighed the costs in the end. (Very cold comfort, that.)
This was not like any other death I've ever caused, even if some were just as calculated in their own way. Ethan was witness to that already, and he still loves me -- but I began to hope he wouldn't watch, this time, in spite of what I told him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Life is so very fragile. There are over six quarts of blood in a human body, but it hardly seems to take any time at all for it to drain away -- and with it, I suspect, a part of my humanity. I understood the spell far better, then, than anyone could by reading it on a page. The spell worked through me, and it was only love that kept it from being something entirely cynical and selfish.
The worst part was discovering that, far from being repugnant to me, a strange intoxication filled my senses as the magic began to flow with the blood. I realised the danger in taking a human life for magic's sake is not how awful it is, but how wonderful the feeling of seizing and controlling that kind of power can be. It was like nothing I've ever experienced before, and, I hope, never will again. It's far too seductive, and too dangerous.
The body, completely drained, hung like a piece of meat. (Like? It was.) There was so much power ambient in the air that it hardly took a thought to get rid of it. Open a pocket dimension; dispose of the evidence; close the portal. It's gone. It's done. Forget it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The blood, and part of the magic, pooled in the porcelin tub. The rest of the magic resided in me. It illuminated me with a dark, pulsing glow that was reflected in the red-black blood. 'You have to finish it,' I told Ethan in a voice that hardly sounded familiar to my own ears.
I don't know what I must have looked like at that moment, but Ethan didn't look at all happy about the prospect. Actually, Ethan looked horrified. I took a step towards Ethan, and he stepped away from me, again. This was getting old, and quickly.
'Get in,' I said, indicating the bath with a glance.
Ethan tried to get away from me instead, but I stood between him and the door. I twisted his arm behind his back, wrenched it to the point of pain. 'Please don't make me hurt you, Ethan.' I was all but begging him. 'Just do what you have to do.'
Ethan went limp in my grasp, looking rather pale, and sick. I'm not sure which reaction I liked the less.
I stepped into the tub, first, and pulled Ethan in after me. (Did I have to do everything for him?) I don't think I've ever seen anyone I didn't intend to kill look quite so terrified as Ethan did at that moment. It made my heart ache to see it. But the spell was working; I could feel it. The magic connected the power in me, with Ethan, through the power in the blood.
'This is what you wanted, isn't it?' I asked. I held on to Ethan because I was worried his squeamishness would interfere with the spell. I held him because I wanted to do.
'I thought it was,' Ethan said in a very small voice, only looking at me for a moment before he turned his gaze away. I continued to look at Ethan, unflinching. Even if he doesn't know, I do. I want him, in spite of it all.
'Maybe next time you'll be more careful what you wish for,' I told him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ethan froze, then tried to struggle against me, briefly, as I started covering his soft, pale skin with the blood. 'This might be amusing, in an ironic sort of way, if it wasn't so pathetic,' I snapped.
If I had hit him, Ethan probably would have looked at me in much the same way. I can't tell you why I said it: the stress of the magic, the nature of the ritual? That Ethan can be the most frustrating, exasperating, contradictory individual I've ever dealt with? I want him, in spite of it all.
I would have time to repent my sharp words, later, if everything worked. If it did not... neither one of us would be in a position to care. 'It's part of the spell, you have to cover yourself in it,' I explained, trying to sound gentler, but the magic didn't allow time for lengthy apologies.
'You have to cover yourself in it completely for the spell to work.' I held Ethan's head still with one hand, while I rubbed blood over his features, his closed eyelids, and through his hair, with the other.
I could feel the power flowing smoothly, bending to my will, taking the shape the spell demanded of it. I knelt, and splashed blood onto Ethan's chest from where he was sitting disconsolately on his arse. Using my hands, I covered every inch of him in it. Yes, every inch.
The magic wasn't finished with him with us, yet. Ethan was shaking with fear, but he was hard as iron. I was sickened by what I was doing, but I couldn't stop. No one can do blood magic on that scale and just stop. I wasn't going to die because Ethan decided the spell he practically blackmailed me into doing for him was just too messy for him to contemplate.
And it was fascinating. Completely and utterly fascinating. I kept doing what I had to do, offering a subtle, guiding intelligence to the magic, feeling the power unmaking, and remaking, what is and what was. I knew in that moment what it was to be able to turn back something as inexorable as time itself, bending life and death to my will.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was extremely disconcerting to me when I realised Ethan was crying.
'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' Ethan said again and again, holding onto me. My heart went out to him, but at the same time, I was furious with him for putting me in this position. 'I know I'm a coward; I was afraid I might do something like this,' Ethan told me. 'You had to do it because you're strong enough for the both of us.'
'I had to do it because I'm the only person in this miserable world who loves you,' I snarled.
I made Ethan cry again. I hated myself. I put my arms around him because he was shivering. I hoped it was only the chill in the air, and not me, that caused it. I had behaved very badly to him.
In Ethan's place, I would have pushed me away, but he did not. No, Ethan would allow me to behave like a complete prick and just take it. That wasn't right. 'It's almost finished, now,' I told Ethan, softly, trying to soothe him. 'As soon as I bind the spell, it will be over.'
Ethan swallowed hard. 'How are you going to bind it?' His hesitance told me more than I wanted to know about how much he hated to ask me the question.
I looked at Ethan, then, at the confined space we shared in the bath. 'You're probably going to want to turn around,' I said, as kindly as I could.
Ethan might have bolted if he had known how. I'm glad Ethan didn't, because I couldn't let him do that. 'Oh, Ieuan... no...' Ethan's voice was low, willing himself to disbelieve. I didn't deny it, because I couldn't.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
'It's the very last thing,' I tried to reassure Ethan, without much seeming success. 'If you start crying again, I'm not going to be able to do this. Not unwilling to do it -- I won't be capable of it.' I wanted to be certain Ethan understood the distinction.
'I can finish the spell, or the spell can finish us. It's your choice, Ethan. I can't make the decision for you. Don't forget, though, it's the both of us you'll be pushing past our sell-by dates if you tell me to not finish the spell... But don't do it just for me,' I hastened to add.
I could only delay the inevitable a short time. I already had done, and I couldn't put off the end much longer, either way. Every passing moment was becoming a greater strain on me. I was going to lose my grip on the magic if Ethan didn't decide, or decided by not deciding, the power of it would consume both of us.
'I knew the bargain when we made the bond.' I gazed into Ethan's eyes, hating myself for the fear I saw in them. 'I never expected a long life, but I did get to find out what love means... and I never expected love at all. Even if everything ends here, I'm still the lucky one, for all that.'
Decide, or die -- or decide to die. There was no turning back, no second chance, no time to reconsider. Choose, Ethan...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
'Finish it,' Ethan said, his voice so quiet I couldn't be certain of the words, at first. 'Finish the spell,' he said, again.
The relief I felt was... indescribable. Being prepared to die isn't the same thing as looking forward to it, at all. There were more than a few moments when I really did wonder if Ethan would let indecision doom us both. I took Ethan into my arms and kissed him, allowing the magic its head once more, confident the power would find the channels where it was supposed to run. 'You are sure?' I asked.
'Does it feel like I'm sure?' The sultry invitation in Ethan's tone sounded much the same in our bedroom. When he paused, he rearranged himself, palms gripping the edge of the bath, perhaps a bit too tightly. 'But... would you mind if I closed my eyes now?' Ethan asked, far more tentative.
I brushed my lips against the nape of his neck. 'Close your eyes, dillyn,' I said gently, feeling Ethan relax as he did. The small kisses and caresses we shared were comforting in their familiarity. Such gestures were as good as saying: let's just do this, and get back to the rest of our lives. In some ways, Ethan seemed even more relieved than I was.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Beneath the level of the spell we were binding, the patterns danced at the edges of my conscious awareness of them. Ethan and I know the bond we share grows stronger when magic works through both of us, all the more so when the magic depends upon our intimacy for its power. The threads of Ethan's pattern and my own are becoming so closely intertwined it's difficult to discern their edges, one from the other. Neither of us feels any great impetus to look.
There was a time when the idea of such a metaphysical blurring would have frightened me, but what it gives me in reality is a feeling of warmth and safety. It isn't difficult to project a time in future when it will be more proper to speak of "our" magic, instead of trying to distinguish what is Ethan's, and what is mine. I hope Ethan is looking forward to that, because I know I am, now.
To touch is to remind us the degree to which we remain separated from one another.