The mountains are so high, it looks like you could reach up and run your fingers against the sky. Swirling clouds and snow, and burning stars play out Van Gogh against a moonlit canvas.
     William is smoking, and the scented fog, tinted clove, acts like a stage effect, billowing upward to create a filmy mist before dissipating in the chilled air. He sits on the grand upper deck -- grand not in styling, for it is actually quite simple, but in its breadth, going from one end of the chalet to the other.
     He came here, instead of reappearing in the den after the sudden combustibility of Edward and Valan, needing a moment to smoke. Blood did much to calm the energies that had risen, and the clove does nothing to erase the taste of his lover's blood in his mouth, on his senses, on his soul.
     The stars are quieting, too...
     Sitting in one of the chairs, his feet propped up on the railing, William inclines his head, indigo seeking the indigo sky. His hand brings the clove to his mouth and draws it away in automatic motions. He breathes as easily. It is as it seems -- a meditation.

     "The smell is downstairs," Edward says, not making any quiet for his arrival. He steps out, well aware his approach has been heard for a while. He exhales, mostly to see the space become visible before him. His boots stamp upon the wood deck as he walks. He takes a seat in another chair, though his energy says anything but 'sit'. "Bored yet?" he says, as if in a rush to get to the point. He's agitated, though not upset. Just full of too much.
     "Christ," he laments, leaning back. His foot taps out a rhythm on the deck that runs quickly.

     "Good, it will cover up the other smells," the grin is wry as is the tone of his voice, warmed by blood. Ian's blood. William looks at you, then smirking puts the cigarette out. Better? His look would say as he turns to you, watching you plop into the chair.
     He shakes his head a little, but then looks back ahead. His gaze is sharp -- no chemicals here. Just blood. It is enough. "I am sorry for my attitude down there," he murmurs. "I do not know what it is about this place that gives me these knots in my gut. Maybe I get cranky," William smoothes a grin, "...being closer to the Motherland." The native land of Normans is... somewhere north of here...but it's cold all the same.

     There's a momentary look of What are you talking about, but then Edward just shrugs. His hands in his pockets, he leans forward, feet tapping and his jutting elbows waving back to front, as if he's cold. "Man speaks his mind," Edward shrugs. He really had no stake in it either way. And so it goes.
     "I think we're going early," he says for the record. He's having trouble staying still. They appeared to have plans for several weeks. Where he's taking them is anyone's question. But Edward rattles slightly, looking ahead to the mountains. Something to focus on. "You can stay, you know," he reminds.

     "You are lovelier by the year," Ian says softly, leaning against the window. The bench he sits on looks comfortable, and his position allows him to take up most of the seat. His elbow rests on the windowpane, and his hand holds his chin. He speaks, though his words crash into the glass near his lips but remains clear. Ian smiles a little, staring out to the front world of snow.
     "It is luck that such has happened to you," Ian explains on, not looking to see whether he has an audience or not. "Few become more beautiful as Time passes."

     "And you and William... you must be among these few," Valan's voice sounds softly behind you. He comes with a glass for you, a scotch. He has a glass of something clear. "Some may feel a victim to Happenstance," he continues, "... but I think I have been on its good side."
     For now at least.
     Valan comes to sit with you. "I guess we all have been more lucky than not. But you and William likely create your on luck, and are not perhaps at its whim..."

     "I was just about to tell you that. We can't stay. It is time for Yule, and we should be home. As it is, Ian will be following me to Italy this next year and will miss spring and summer at home." He does not even like Italy, but he goes for me.
     William exhales, looking forward as he leans back in the chair. The wood creaks beneath him as he resettles. His fingers interlace against his sweatered stomach. "Thanks for inviting us, by the way. I know you like your time to yourself... not with London or Paris calling you. But no... we are not going to stay. Tonight is all, the weather is clearing, and then we will go home." He does not ask where you are going. William knows better.
     Reaching over, the last lion takes a swipe at your shoulder, his fingers barely grazing. Enjoy your time. Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. All of these things in the barest of touches. All of these things and his affection need no verbal confirmation.
     "I will say my apologies to Valan before I go. I am sure he does not care, but... I want to say it for myself, if no one else. I ... once thought I had apologized enough for all that I have done to Ian over the years but I do not think so. I do not think I will live long enough, frere." There is much emotion beneath the snapping of his voice, and a reason for his defensiveness that has nothing to do with the chill in the air.

     Edward nods, his jittering in need of a fix sometimes like his having one. Hard to distinguish. But there is a third option - that undefined need to be in motion. When it grips him, he never knows. Something here has bothered him, perhaps. "Only two nights," he wonders. That is short. It takes much to pack up vampires to move. But Edward nods sharply, not into disagreement. There is no point.
     "And no need to apologize to Valan," Edward says in the cold. "He understands what he said." But there is nothing for the comment on apologies to Ian. Edward looks over, not sure where the segue came or whether it was meant to be followed.

     Ian smiles thinly. "More than beauty, you have Fortune," he observes. "That is perhaps more the blessing. William and I," he says, "...do not need compliments, even if you believe them." They cannot do much with them. The whisky is ignored for a moment. "Luck," Ian pauses, then smirks, leaving it unfinished. Luck is not ours, no. To force and fight. "Luck is for the blessed," he smiles, finally looking over. Like you.
     "You still love him?" Ian wonders gently, eyes to his window again. "If you do not, it is alright. I do not tell tales," he smiles. "Is there someone else?"

     Valan does not look past the window to the snowy world beyond. He sips at his martini, pulling his legs up as he curls against the corner of the window seat. His sweater is oversized. Perhaps it is one of Edward's, or more likely it is simply meant to be so.
     Crimson. He wears it well. Too well perhaps. Too well.
     "I love Edward very much. He is why I am here, why I am anywhere. He makes me happy. And I him." But you know how all of this works. A smile purrs at Valan's mouth. "Who else could there be more magnificent than he?" Not even your William. Your William who perhaps is upset with me.
     "Fortune? I do not know. I think I am fortunate. But when you say it, it seems more... prophetic somehow." Valan inclines his head, sipping the martini. "Blessed? I do not know that it is ... to the point of being blessed."

     "Sometimes I wonder, but you know him best." William turns his head and looks at you. "Do you want something for your twitch, frere? You look like you are about to launch like the...what they say...the Sputnik."
     The moment of emotion has come and gone. Rising and exploding, it gives itself to the air in sparks that flicker and flutter then disappear, extinguished against the cold. William reaches to the side, hands taking up cigarette pack and lighter. He lights another for himself. "We may stay an extra night or two. I will see what Ian wishes. I like to please him," William shrugs. "So... we will see what does."
     Are you alright? He wonders. He looks at you as you bounce around, your energy incandescent. "You are not leaving because of us, are you? Hmm? No?" He smiles easily, warmly. "I know you like me best when I am far." He laughs at that. It is true. It is not true. It is funny either way.

     "You may think that you are," Ian observes, gaze given to the snow. What is he sees out there? "You...biding your time, until it is your time. When you become whatever it is that you are."
     He purses his lips, the fair-haired one does. His head tilts, as if something's changed outside. "When you..." his brows knit, "...consume him wholly, and he becomes lost." There is a wistfulness there. He hesitates then, Ian does, as if holding something. But then it falls away as his eyes drop to see his window pane perch.

     "Hmm?" Edward blinks, returning to your words. He's biting his fingers now. "You? No, no," Edward says negatively. "Maybe I am not so good around people," he says softly.

     Ian brows knit tightly. "You are avoiding it," he whispers. "This thing between you." The gaze ends. "Blessed," Ian picks up, apparently having digressed, "...something has touched you. Divinity?" he wonders, "The profane."

     "What is the matter with you?" Indigo eyes look to you, biting yourself there. As if you are on coke, or need coke. Or something. William turns toward you. The look is a keen one but one that is concerned. "You ... have had something, need something? I have some opium... I think... I should, even though I have not been smoking much lately. But I never travel without it. Just in case."
     But you need something...
     Clearly...

     Golden eyes are full of starbursts, fiery energy and sparkling clarity. He could be a cat in a man's form for all of his slinkiness. "When I consume him.. I am careful with him," Valan whispers back. "You mean these... gifts of mine. It seems you know them better than I." How can that be? What can you see?
     "When I first... experienced them... I played with him. I do not play anymore. Only when he asks or permits it..."
     Though, why I tell you this... I am not sure...
     Valan takes another sip of the drink. "I do not think it is God. I do not know what it is, but I do not think it is... Divinity. Divinity does not want to swallow whole those things with which it comes in contact." At least he's self-aware. "I'm not sure what you mean about what is between Edward and I. You think I am stringing him along, playing with him until someone else comes along? I have turned down more than people, opportunities, to remain with him. I was happy to do so."
     What are you getting at?

     There is no immediate reply from Ian. Grey eyes return to the snow scene outside; maybe the answers are there. Better yet, it holds the reason he says what he does. He cannot know your talents, no. Not in any detail.
     "Is that how it is? You to swallow him," he surmises. "There is darkness," Ian goes on, "...it waits, I think."
     William...
     Ian looks over to you, more present. His expression seems to say I am sorry, but the words do not follow. He is not sure what to say or what might help.
     "I have spoken out of turn," Ian offers. It is close to an apology.

     "No, no, I'm fine," Edward says hurriedly. "I'm fine. You're...going to Italy," he heard. "When again? How long?"

     "What is out of turn?" Valan does not appear upset. There is a laissez-faire shrug. "I am the last man to tell another man not to give his opinions." He smiles then, leaning forward. He does not touch you, his hand holds. You do not just...touch thousand year old beings.
     At least, not before they tell you to...
     "I think of you as a friend, and my friends... can say whatever it is they are feeling. Without apology. But you hardly need my permission. You are more powerful, older, more wealthy and influential." He lifts the martini glass for a sip. "I have had a dream of snakes eating snakes. I think it is merely a phallic representation. I swallow his blood, but... I can taste what is beneath it." He does not think not to tell you. Why should he not? He trusts you.
     "Layers and layers deep. I fall in, he falls in..." Valan's voice trails off. "We fall in." He pauses. "I do not know what this power is. I have not always had it. Sometimes... it has frightened me. I do not know what it is... or what it will become. The year after I was embraced... maybe it was the year even after this, I felt that I could sense ... someone's crimes or sins. I used it for gossip...I used it without judgement. I had to learn. I ...do not wish to hurt the one I love."
     He seems concerned then, young Montague. "What do you think it is, Ian?" he whispers. "Do you think I will hurt Edward? Do you think it is past my being able to help doing?" He has felt in control of it for the past two years. But maybe, he thinks to himself, that is a lie...

     William remains unconvinced, but you are an adult. One prone to snorting cocaine, no less. So, he leaves that be. "Venice," he confirms with a nod, his gaze turning back out to the snow. "I am planning only to be there from March through August. But it will depend on the weather, in part. If it is a rainy spring, it will take longer. I will be working under the Della Salute so.... I will need some flood free nights. It may be asking too much. I am now only praying that the sewers will not overflow."
     For if they do, he will be swimming in more than muck and marble dust.
     Your energy is contagious. Fortunately, he may smoke. He offers you one, even though you hate cloves. Please, ami, do something. "After I have sex, I am relaxed. After you have sex, you act like you shot up crystal meth. I am grateful I am not of your Familie," William chuckles smoke, offering the pack to you with his hand. Want one? Something to burn before you catch on fire?

     Snakes eating snakes. Ian only stares, his smoke-filled eyes otherworldly sometimes. He exhales, something physical, to this realm. For another moment, he looks down to his pane before speaking, gathering his thoughts.
     "When the time comes," Ian murmurs to you, his focus returned to your face, "...when..." he whispers to you, "...choose not the darkness for him. He'll choose it, for you. At that moment, he would choose it. You have to remember. If you ever loved him, do not give him...what he asks."
     Ian's energy seems to recede slightly. Regardless of your feelings, he knows he has said too much. "You know layers, as you say. Maybe something has happened," he can only surmise, intellectualizing. "Maybe ... you should discover what this is."

     Edward grins finally. "I could use some," he whispers admission to himself. It's better than this. He makes me like this. "Maybe you should have better sex," he teases, changing the topic. It is not me, it's you.
     Hand comes up, "I take that shite back," he suddenly says, realizing that more may follow.

     "Hmm," William thinks as his mouth closes over the cigarette, as he breathes fire and exhales smoke. "Do not wish that on Ian... or anyone else." He grins smoke as he takes another drag. You change the subject, you are graceful about it, but he can see it coming. When things get too personal, you change topics. "Not even me."

     Gilt, the eyes that look at you, that hold your focus as it reaches for him. Do not give him what he asks. You see this process. "I do not know where to start," Valan Montague admits. "I do not remember when it started or... who to speak with about such things. You...you are the first person to ever speak to me about it. I ...how did you know?" He wonders suddenly.
     Now, he is worried. And now he must move. Valan rises, setting the mostly empty martini glass aside. He wraps his arms around himself and pivots. He looks at you, but standing. "Tell me, Ian... what...can I do? I don't want to hurt him... I don't want to ruin him...I love him..."

     "The thing...inside," that is the vampire, "...it always wants to feed itself. On...whatever it enjoys most. The mortal self, foibles. Fears. It wants more of them," Ian murmurs, speaking perhaps from experience. "To indulge the very last thing it should ever know. That is...What We Are."
     Ian smiles, as if to say, It is not all beauty and immortality.
     "We are Darkness," Ian notes, "...little more. We try to stave it off, to remain in the Light, until we are no longer able to keep it away. It takes us. The sun," he smiles, "...is the first. The easiest and obvious. But then..." It reaches for more.
     "And some," Ian goes on, "...maybe more..." how to say delicately, "...are...inclined to the faster routes. I have seen this. You know this. It is...the Sabbat." In its easiest form. "And there are other beings. Things." Ian looks over to his audience. "You love him," Ian goes on, "...and you want to give him everything he wants. All you have to offer," he whispers. "But what you have to offer..." he frowns, "...it is....complex." For lack of another word. For lack of startling and scaring.
     "Maybe...reading will assist you. Your learning. Is that not the Brujah way?"

     A door opens, William. And through it, towards you, a cold, rushing breeze. Blinding grey white light, screaming to be seen, to be heard. As if someone...something...should walk into it, towards you...

     "I said I took it back, Christ," Edward smiles, still jittery, but slightly better. Time improves it, whatever it is. He swallows and looks down at his tapping feet. Something needed, it is true.
     "I...maybe I should get back to Valan." He bites his fingernails again for an instant, then puts his hands back into his pockets.

     "But it was already out there, ami," William murmurs, but his head and his attention were already turned from you. "I think I am being called," he whispers. Called or Called? William is now standing. He places a hand on your shoulder, a grab and a shake.
     Do Ventrue summon one another at the drop of a hat?
     "If I do not see you before you leave," William murmurs, "... thank you, and I will see you soon. Maybe in Venice, oui? You have been honored there. You should visit once in a while," he chuckles.
     And then his hand recedes with a final pat. And to the Other? The feeling of power and strength in the night, a lifting of olive leaves in a breeze. The oiled essence of William replying, with his dark reds of passion and the love that runs deeply beneath it.

     Valan looks to you. What you have to offer, it is complex. He seems to soak that in and then nod. "I ... appreciate you saying these things to me. I know... I know you would not if you did not really believe them and think it important to say. You do not speak much... but when you do..."
     When you do, those around you should listen. How is it he knows you so much better than your own husband? Your husband you can now feel approaching.
     Valan takes a breath, "I will think of this all... and ... take your advice to heart." The nature of the vampire... he is understanding it more and more, in its complexities, in its dangers, in its delights. And for him... delight it seems is a danger.
     "I should.... let you relax," Valan offers gently. "It is your vacation too after all. I hope... William was not annoyed with me too much?"

     William? Ian looks up, then the comment dawns on him. "Oh..." his brows lift and fall, "...he is alright. I think he can do alright from a lashing." Ian grins at the thought, smirking in satisfied manner.
     "One bit," Ian says softly, "...do you know your own clan's history? The history of Carthage and her lessons?" A great lot of nice from a Ventrue reminding. "Maybe...you should start there."

     The door, as soon as it opened and beamed the white of burning, closed itself. Though the wind is stiff, and the gate is slow to shut, it begins to dim the light.

     Edward looks up, surprised slightly at the departure. "Oh, alright, cos," he says, hand coming to his mouth again. He nods, understanding the need to depart, and looks again to the mountains once more.

     "I... know the history, oui. I have contacts in Spain, things I can... inquire about. I suppose I should... and stop fucking around." Ah, that delicate mouth. It is Montague all over. "Edward will hate it," Valan smirks, satisfied in his own right, "...returning to Spain."
     He looks to you a moment more, then pushes away. "I think I should find Eduard," Valan speaks softly. There is much on his mind, and ... in truth... perhaps he needs the security of his lover, with so much on his mind.

     Steps sound on the stairs and William can then be seen. He is coming quickly, his stride covering the distance, though there is no rush. Still... he felt something... felt a need for him to be here, and here he is...

     There's a soft bob of Ian's head as he returns to his window. But William's presence is suddenly there, and his attention is diverted to the stairs. "You should see your lover," Ian agrees. As I should see mine.
     "I shall see you again before we depart, Valan," Ian tries to comfort. Go ahead.

     "Guillaume," Valan says quietly. He smiles congenially enough but he is not staying. He goes up the stairs as William is coming down, heading for the second floor landing and its wide and comfortable balcony.

     William nods and smiles back to Valan. See? I'm not angry. But he doesn't quip -- Valan is on the move. "Everything okay?" William softly wonders, joining you by the window. His hand rests upon your head and then he is bending to kiss you.
     "I felt something from you. I thought I better come before you summon me," he grins and he kisses you again. "You rang?"

     The door to the balcony ticks open. It is not your cousin, but your lover. Can you feel him? "Ami?" Valan comes to join you. His hand touches your head as he stands behind you. His fingers lightly move through your hair.

     Ian looks surprised. "No," he smiles, "...but I was about to," he grins. Ian exhales and pats the seat near himself, moving so that you might have space. "I...think I did something wrong," he confesses, though it doesn't seem to affect him too terribly. "I...think I said some things I should not have said." Should not have pointed out. "To Valan," he notes, in case you missed it.

     "Ami -" Edward starts, twisting to see your arrival. He's biting his fingernails, but that soon ends. Edward lights from his seat, quick to greet you with a hug and a lift. "I missed you," he whispers, the unease upon his shoulders, in his arms. "I missed you," he says again. I need you. "What were you doing?" Edward grins, teasing softly.

     "I will tell you a secret," William whispers. "I like to be summoned. As long as I am not under a building." His voice is soft, as if it can be kept between you. He settles beside you, taking the seat that would have been warmed by Valan were Valan yet alive.
     "Hmm...it seems a time for saying things that shouldn't be said," he smiles a little at that. He looks up to see the trail Valan left behind him. "Oui? Such as what, amours?" William leans forward, lowering, his arms resting on his legs, his hands in between them.

     "I missed you, too," Valan winds his arms around you, his body pressing against yours. It is hard to not reach for you, to reach inside you, to grasp your heart. He closes his eyes. He kisses you.
     "I was talking with Ian... what were you doing? Listening to William?" One listens to William more than talks with William, he supposes. And it occurs to him that William is to him as Villon is to the rest of you. Valan smiles a little.

     "You like to be summoned?" Ian smirks, knowing what you meant. He looks down, his hands coming to rest in his lap as well. "I...looked at him," Ian whispers. A mistake, perhaps. Looking too deeply, with vampire's eyes.
     With his family's senses.
     The pensive look is troubled, but for multiple reasons. "I was thinking...of what we'd felt earlier. The...darkness."
     "I think it's him, Will..."

     "I was listening to cos, yes, ami," Edward laughs a little, rather amused at the implication. He hasn't let you down yet. "But we did not say too much. Just sat," he notes. Sometimes, they do that. Edward exhales, and the unease begins to unravel from his body. You take up the space. His smile becomes brighter, more genuine. "What do you want to do this evening?" he asks. "We could ski," he suggests, as he always does. Or take a walk. Exploring?"

     "I would like a walk actually," Valan murmurs. His arms squeeze you. Closing his eyes, he breathes you in. "I want to be out in the open air. We can snowshoe?" Valan looks at you, leaning back a little. "I think they will be going soon... it was good to see them." But guests are also nice when they are no longer around.
     "You just sat?" Valan seems amused by this. "Sat and smoked, it smells like. I could use a smoke too..."
     So much for fresh air...

     Indigo is full of royal colors blue and violet. "By you," William murmurs. "When you want me... and you call me to you, what is not to be liked." The full mouth makes much of the slight smile.
     The smile is not long for this world, however. "It is... him?" He is quiet for a time. "You mean, his aura... that is what we were seeing...feeling," he corrects. William sits up. "What do you think the darkness is... comes from...."

     "I don't know," Ian whispers low. "But it is not just him. He is..." Ian thinks, "...the fit part. The part that makes it...go..." for lack of better words. "They are..." Ian goes on, as if trying to sort it out in the talking, "...it will go...as long as they are together."
     Ian sighs from the back of his throat, lips parted wide for a clearing breath. He looks up to the top of the window, then shakes his head. "His...aura," Ian finally agrees, shrugging. A half-baked concoction, he knows. "Maybe I make it worse by...talking about it. Maybe it was not a good idea, laird."

     "We could...walk...find a spot...smoke in the snow," Edward smirks. "The large tree," at the bottom of the nearest slope, "...how is that?"

     "The two of them together," William murmurs, thinking aloud. Like the two of you together create something, why wouldn't they? Only in this case, they create something that might consume them whole.
     "Don't worry," William says suddenly though quietly, his hand lifting to your face. His hand strokes there and then he leans forward and kisses you. "I do not think we can make it worse... I'm not sure what we could do to make it better. I need time to think about it..."
     Closing his eyes, he kisses you again. "Are you ready to return to Strathfayr?" William draws back, smiling a little. Concern for his friend is very much in his eyes, however. But...there is a time and a place. "It is not too late for Yule... we will just make it in time." Now his smile is unfettered by worry. "And you... you have me at your complete disposal for the remainder of the winter..."

     Valan smiles, sliding down. He puts his hand upon your chest briefly, then reaches for your hand. "That sounds good...a cigarette, a walk... and then tomorrow night, we will decide what our next adventure will be..."

Posted by rowan at February 05, 2006 06:11 PM