Aspasia - A cabin - 6/4/07
The door opens reluctantly, with a squeak from the hinges. Stepping inside, the air feels stale and old. For a moment, the woman is reluctant to step inside.
Aspasia shuts the door behind her, then loops the leather strip back over her head, tucking the golden key out of sight, hidden in the valley of her breasts, concealed by the fabric of her black shirt.
Her green eyes scan the room, coming to rest on the glass doors opposite and the deck with railing visible beyond. Her expression is one of possessiveness and ownership.
Nothing altered. Good in that there are no violations of our place.
Wrong in that I have failed to come here more often.
Wrong in that I can not tell if he has been here recently.
Taking off her jacket, and tossing it over the back of the couch, Aspasia’s fingers trail along the fabric of the overstuffed cushions as she walks to the cabinet and the book waiting there for her, in the same place she leaves it every time.
A pen is there. The woman uncaps it, scribbles on a test sheet of paper, then takes the journal and writing instrument with her as she takes a seat on the piled cushions before the fireplace.
She glances up at the windows which allow the moonlight and night to be part of the room.
He kisses the nape of her neck, then the side of it and murmurs, breath sliding across her bare skin. " It's cold without you."
Aspasia whispers into the empty room, “And it is cold without you.”
She looks down at the journal in her lap and opens it, turning past the written pages to find the next blank one, waiting for words to be preserved.
***
Beloved,
It is the same as the year before.
I don’t know where you are tonight. Or who you might be with.
***
Aspasia pauses, looking down at the scant lines. She grabs the top of the parchment, ready to rip it away from the binding.
It is none of my business who else has a claim to his affections and time. But, … honestly is what holds us connected. I will not be less than honest.
He will read into that what he desires.
***
It’s been almost a full season now since we were last in the same place. But matters far more important than what lies between us put demands on our attention. Duty to the city and to the dead.
I grieve at the loss of a soul shard Exodus sacrificed that night in Tulsa. I felt more keenly for that than I did for my own decay. You tried to spare me that - in taking those deaths from me. I have clarity about that now which I did not want to acknowledge then.
Now I know that for the gift it was intended. Or perhaps it is only that I want to see it as a gift from you? Of course, Amazons to not seek protectors, but you know that as well.
I am still trying to reconcile Exodus words calling the debt, the death, between us settled. Can you understand I that it is something I can not accept? Even if I can understand it was out of your love for me that compelled you to take the deaths which my claws wanted to claim?
Your sister and my daughter have made a suggestion to me. I do not know if they have spoken of it with you. I think perhaps they have not, for your words would turn them from their purpose. Each loves you deeply in different ways and that gives you a measure of control over them no other can lay claim to.
So I tell you, if they have not - The two wish to become foster sisters. Both.
Jessica to the Ravenscarred, Dominion to Kshatriyas. A dual bond, eldest daughters of equal value, to fulfill what the oracle saw.
I have prayed on it and in my heart, I think the gods can find no offense if it is willing of them both. I will give a daughter to pay the debt and would gain a daughter to cement the ties.
I find myself instead wondering what your brother-sire will think of their proposal, and if he opposed it, what we could do to turn them away from it. Together, those two are formidable. And selfishly, I will grasp at any offering to keep my daughter’s love.
Or any sacrifice, to make her happy.
But, I think you know more of what lies in her heart now than I.
***
Aspasia tilts her head back, looking at the ceiling, then again her eyes are drawn to the windows, the door and the deck outside. She can see her daughter standing in the doorway, a ghostly image of the past.
"So everything can be forsaken for lust? Or passion? How ever you wish to phrase it..." Jessica’s voice is laced with condemnation.
"No. It cannot." Aspasia answers in a low alto. "If that were the case." She looks out across the flat river, "I would greet the sun, daughter. But that the very action would condemn me to Tartarus. And Raven as well."
"Do you think this is not killing me inside? It is against everything I am and have been. But it's Dallas." She murmurs in a soft admission, pushing away from the furniture. "They are both killing me by inches."
The Amazon exhales. She shifts her weight, moving pillows about, tossing one across the room. And she starts to write again.
***
So, again this is the anniversary of the first night we saw each other. Had each other.
I wanted you to know, that as before, I am alone on this night. I come to this place, where the memories are still in my head. I take them out, hold them up like jewels to reflect in the night sky, sparkling with a soft, brilliant light. Then, I put them safely away, like the precious things they are.
This night, I share one of those with you. Do you remember this, Beloved? - I said, “You will be more cautious of yourself for me. And I will promise not to do stupid things because of you." And more importantly, that you answered me with a kiss and a promise, “This is a good thing. I wouldn't have it any other way."
Know that I hold you to that oath. So long as you are in the world, I will not fall. Not completely. And you will do the same for me.
***
The woman lays down the pen on the low coffee table and reads over her words once. The fingers of her right hand trace intricate patterns over her lips as she does so.
Content with what she sees, Aspasia closes the book, rises from the floor and returns the journal to it’s keeping place.
She moves through the still-dark cabin and finds her way confidently to the basement below. It is just as Raven first showed her. And though the dawn is still a few hours away, Aspasia sinks into the ground, preparing to rest for the length of the day.
And he is there beside her, gruff voice murmuring in her ear. “The lines seem to be blurring between the visible and the invisible world. My patrols of the borderlands may be taking an unexpected toll. Being unsure of what is dream and what is real . . ." he stops “Wolf wanders the dark paths, but he always returns. Always. Luna lights the way for him."
And she dreams again of killing him.
Aspasia shuts the door behind her, then loops the leather strip back over her head, tucking the golden key out of sight, hidden in the valley of her breasts, concealed by the fabric of her black shirt.
Her green eyes scan the room, coming to rest on the glass doors opposite and the deck with railing visible beyond. Her expression is one of possessiveness and ownership.
Nothing altered. Good in that there are no violations of our place.
Wrong in that I have failed to come here more often.
Wrong in that I can not tell if he has been here recently.
Taking off her jacket, and tossing it over the back of the couch, Aspasia’s fingers trail along the fabric of the overstuffed cushions as she walks to the cabinet and the book waiting there for her, in the same place she leaves it every time.
A pen is there. The woman uncaps it, scribbles on a test sheet of paper, then takes the journal and writing instrument with her as she takes a seat on the piled cushions before the fireplace.
She glances up at the windows which allow the moonlight and night to be part of the room.
He kisses the nape of her neck, then the side of it and murmurs, breath sliding across her bare skin. " It's cold without you."
Aspasia whispers into the empty room, “And it is cold without you.”
She looks down at the journal in her lap and opens it, turning past the written pages to find the next blank one, waiting for words to be preserved.
***
Beloved,
It is the same as the year before.
I don’t know where you are tonight. Or who you might be with.
***
Aspasia pauses, looking down at the scant lines. She grabs the top of the parchment, ready to rip it away from the binding.
It is none of my business who else has a claim to his affections and time. But, … honestly is what holds us connected. I will not be less than honest.
He will read into that what he desires.
***
It’s been almost a full season now since we were last in the same place. But matters far more important than what lies between us put demands on our attention. Duty to the city and to the dead.
I grieve at the loss of a soul shard Exodus sacrificed that night in Tulsa. I felt more keenly for that than I did for my own decay. You tried to spare me that - in taking those deaths from me. I have clarity about that now which I did not want to acknowledge then.
Now I know that for the gift it was intended. Or perhaps it is only that I want to see it as a gift from you? Of course, Amazons to not seek protectors, but you know that as well.
I am still trying to reconcile Exodus words calling the debt, the death, between us settled. Can you understand I that it is something I can not accept? Even if I can understand it was out of your love for me that compelled you to take the deaths which my claws wanted to claim?
Your sister and my daughter have made a suggestion to me. I do not know if they have spoken of it with you. I think perhaps they have not, for your words would turn them from their purpose. Each loves you deeply in different ways and that gives you a measure of control over them no other can lay claim to.
So I tell you, if they have not - The two wish to become foster sisters. Both.
Jessica to the Ravenscarred, Dominion to Kshatriyas. A dual bond, eldest daughters of equal value, to fulfill what the oracle saw.
I have prayed on it and in my heart, I think the gods can find no offense if it is willing of them both. I will give a daughter to pay the debt and would gain a daughter to cement the ties.
I find myself instead wondering what your brother-sire will think of their proposal, and if he opposed it, what we could do to turn them away from it. Together, those two are formidable. And selfishly, I will grasp at any offering to keep my daughter’s love.
Or any sacrifice, to make her happy.
But, I think you know more of what lies in her heart now than I.
***
Aspasia tilts her head back, looking at the ceiling, then again her eyes are drawn to the windows, the door and the deck outside. She can see her daughter standing in the doorway, a ghostly image of the past.
"So everything can be forsaken for lust? Or passion? How ever you wish to phrase it..." Jessica’s voice is laced with condemnation.
"No. It cannot." Aspasia answers in a low alto. "If that were the case." She looks out across the flat river, "I would greet the sun, daughter. But that the very action would condemn me to Tartarus. And Raven as well."
"Do you think this is not killing me inside? It is against everything I am and have been. But it's Dallas." She murmurs in a soft admission, pushing away from the furniture. "They are both killing me by inches."
The Amazon exhales. She shifts her weight, moving pillows about, tossing one across the room. And she starts to write again.
***
So, again this is the anniversary of the first night we saw each other. Had each other.
I wanted you to know, that as before, I am alone on this night. I come to this place, where the memories are still in my head. I take them out, hold them up like jewels to reflect in the night sky, sparkling with a soft, brilliant light. Then, I put them safely away, like the precious things they are.
This night, I share one of those with you. Do you remember this, Beloved? - I said, “You will be more cautious of yourself for me. And I will promise not to do stupid things because of you." And more importantly, that you answered me with a kiss and a promise, “This is a good thing. I wouldn't have it any other way."
Know that I hold you to that oath. So long as you are in the world, I will not fall. Not completely. And you will do the same for me.
***
The woman lays down the pen on the low coffee table and reads over her words once. The fingers of her right hand trace intricate patterns over her lips as she does so.
Content with what she sees, Aspasia closes the book, rises from the floor and returns the journal to it’s keeping place.
She moves through the still-dark cabin and finds her way confidently to the basement below. It is just as Raven first showed her. And though the dawn is still a few hours away, Aspasia sinks into the ground, preparing to rest for the length of the day.
And he is there beside her, gruff voice murmuring in her ear. “The lines seem to be blurring between the visible and the invisible world. My patrols of the borderlands may be taking an unexpected toll. Being unsure of what is dream and what is real . . ." he stops “Wolf wanders the dark paths, but he always returns. Always. Luna lights the way for him."
And she dreams again of killing him.