Fire Burn, Cauldron Bubble
Title: Fire Burn, Cauldron Bubble
Author: dorksidefiker
Fandom: That Damn Mpreg
Table/Prompt: Table 4/82. Curse
Character/Pairing: Daemon Summers/Rowena Mox-Xanathos
Rating: PG
Word Count: 281
Summary: She’s weaving a spell.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Mine!
Daemon opened his eyes, the smell of burnt sage heavy in the air, which was equally heavy with power. Briefly, a rabbit screamed. Daemon could almost taste the coppery blood in the air. Silently, he slipped out of bed and padded over to the door that connected the bedroom with the work room.
Rowena stood over the large iron cauldron, naked as the day she was born, the rabbit’s blood smeared on her arms and mouth from where she had torn out it’s throat. She was chanting something in a guttural language that Daemon knew far too well, drawing patterns in the air with blood stained fingers. Daemon lingered in the doorway, watching shadows that had nothing to do with the flames dancing across her body. With a cry, she plunged her arms into the water, and something dark ran down her back and fled out the window, escaping into the night.
Rowena withdrew her arms, unmarred despite the time spent in the boiling water of the cauldron. She wiped her bloody mouth with the back of her hand. “Did I wake you?” she asked, finally looking at Daemon.
“Yes.” Daemon continued to linger at the threshold, unwilling to enter the space where the witch worked her magic.
“My apologies,” she said, brushing her dark hair away from her face.
“Casting curses upon the deserving?” Daemon asked as Rowena swept past him. He got no answer, and he knew better than to press for one.
Author: dorksidefiker
Fandom: That Damn Mpreg
Table/Prompt: Table 4/82. Curse
Character/Pairing: Daemon Summers/Rowena Mox-Xanathos
Rating: PG
Word Count: 281
Summary: She’s weaving a spell.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Mine!
Daemon opened his eyes, the smell of burnt sage heavy in the air, which was equally heavy with power. Briefly, a rabbit screamed. Daemon could almost taste the coppery blood in the air. Silently, he slipped out of bed and padded over to the door that connected the bedroom with the work room.
Rowena stood over the large iron cauldron, naked as the day she was born, the rabbit’s blood smeared on her arms and mouth from where she had torn out it’s throat. She was chanting something in a guttural language that Daemon knew far too well, drawing patterns in the air with blood stained fingers. Daemon lingered in the doorway, watching shadows that had nothing to do with the flames dancing across her body. With a cry, she plunged her arms into the water, and something dark ran down her back and fled out the window, escaping into the night.
Rowena withdrew her arms, unmarred despite the time spent in the boiling water of the cauldron. She wiped her bloody mouth with the back of her hand. “Did I wake you?” she asked, finally looking at Daemon.
“Yes.” Daemon continued to linger at the threshold, unwilling to enter the space where the witch worked her magic.
“My apologies,” she said, brushing her dark hair away from her face.
“Casting curses upon the deserving?” Daemon asked as Rowena swept past him. He got no answer, and he knew better than to press for one.