Amor Vincit Omnia

An Actual Attempt by Lexi and Kali

Title:  Amor Vincit Omnia – Love Conquers All

Rating: High PG-13. Language, violence, and probably a few compromising situations, though it won't go much farther than snogging.

Authors: Lexi and Kali

Leads: Lily/James

Summary: Stretching from James' proposal through till the Potters' death, with a mix of Voldie and a host of other characters.

Notes: This is 'the' official first fic of Lexi and Kali – and by 'first' we mean 'first good fic that's actually good'. We usually write parodies, but this will not be one. Chances are, because it is us, it will have lots of humor in it, but for once we intend to delve deeper into human emotions than sex, drugs and rock and roll. Cross your fingers for us.

"Love is not a matter of counting the years, but of making the years count."
                - Michelle St. Amand

                "You know I don't like flying very much."

                "It's a gorgeous night, look! Moonlight, clear skies… you know, most women die for this kind of thing."

                "Most women would die just to have the dinner I just had with you, James."

                "Flattery."

                "Yes. But I'm still not flying."

                "Please? I'll kiss you."

                "Is that a threat?"

                "It's whatever you want it to be."

                "You're strange."

                "You love me for it."

                "True."

                "And if you love me you'll go flying tonight."

                "For most people love isn't defined as mounting your lovers' broom."

                "Actually—"

                "Don't even start, James."

                "Alright."

                "Don't do that. Don't give me that look."

                "Please? I'll make it up to you. I'll do that thing you like, with the—"

                "James. Don't start."

                "Fine. …Come flying."

                "James."

                "Lily."

                "We've been over this."

                "We have. But you still haven't said yes."

                "And I'm not going to."

                "Where have I heard that before, hmm?"

                "Shut up."

                "Come flying."

                "No."

                "Yes."

                "No."

                "I'll love you forever."

                "Too late."

                "Shut up."

                "Only if you do."

                "I will if you go flying."

                "…fine."

                "I win!"

                "Don't push it."

                He hadn't been lying when he'd said it was a gorgeous night. It was. It really was. It was as close to the perfect night for walking along a forest in semi-formal clothing got, considering forests and semi-formal clothing weren't usually mixed together. It was well into the night, the crescent moon high in the sky, the crescent low-positioned on the moon. The constellations in the sky, out here, in the wilderness, with the city glowing faintly to their right and the simple, moonlit darkness of the forest to their left, shone bright enough that it looked as if one might see them as the early astronomers saw them. As if, when you looked long enough at the Big Dipper, the patterns formed, and if you stared close enough at Orion, you could almost make out the story of the soldier.

                It was a gorgeous night.

                The two of them were walking side by side. She was only about a head shorter than him, and even in the faint shimmer of moonlight her deep red hair, falling to the middle of her back, had a unique sort of glow. His hair, from behind, was rather messy, and he was tall and leanly built. Both of them were dressed in a dark colour, quite probably black, and for both it seemed very suiting. Her dress was formfitting and exposed her shoulders to the unusually warm spring night, although one of his arms was snaked from one side of her to the other, hand coming to rest at the top of her shoulder.

                  Even from behind they looked like a good couple. Something in the way his arm was slipped around her waist and something about the way she didn't object, and something about the way their steps were in time with one another was reminiscent of old black and white romances, the ones where the man and the woman were completely, one hundred percent in love. The ones where the marriage proposals were infinitely romantic, the ones where marriages lasted for a lifetime, the ones with the couples that could have the world fall down around them and they'd never notice so long as they were caught in a passionate embrace.

                If there were to have been a third party watching, they no doubt would have expected Hallmark worthy strings of sweet nothings, sweet little poetic quips. The lines out of Casablanca and Gone with the Wind. It wouldn't have seemed that surprising for the man to smile sideways at his date, tilt his head one way and ask: What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You, you want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down.

                It was just that kind of late April night.
               

                "Do you always bring your dates into the woods?" she asked, glancing up at him with a faint smile.

                "Only if the night's as gorgeous as they are."

                "What a line."

                "But you liked it."

                "I did."

                And she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.

                He led her into a clearing, and the instant they stepped from the forest she gasped, faintly. The clearing, which was a definite decent size, was coated in wildflowers. She looked down at them, plucking one from its spot in the ground to hold it up.

                "It's a lily," she pointed out, gaze traveling from the red flower in her hand up to him.

                He grinned.

                "How fitting."

                There were hundreds of them, at least. Craning her neck she could see they were mostly a dazzling red – or orange, she couldn't quite tell in the light. Towards the center of the clearing, however, there seemed to be some white ones.  James grinned at her awed expression and one hand slid into his pocket. Holding a wand a second later, he glanced away from her long enough to mutter accio broom. There was a brief, momentary pause, before said object came at a reasonable place from the forest.

                "That was fast," Lily remarked, brow furrowing for a second.

                "It was nearby."

                Lily sent him a strange look, head tilting to the side suddenly to rest on the top of his arm. "It's almost like you planned it."

                James grinned. "Almost."

                A second or two later he had one leg on either side of the broom, grinning over at her. Flying was his thing, really, not hers – but still she slid onto the broom in front of him, and his arms moved around her waist in order to grip the handle.

                "Ready?" he asked, leaning forward to pose the question next to her ear.

                "Fly me to the moon."

                And they were airborne.

                The view from the air was even nicer. The ability to see over the treetops, into the distance, across the horizon, to the other side of the hills and feel alongside the stars was incredible. James had always enjoyed flying at night more than flying in the day – it was nice, quiet, and the sights were breathtaking.

                Lily pressed back into him and although he was unable to see her face he was sure her bright emerald eyes were closed. She didn't like heights, which was the main reason she didn't enjoy flying. It was a fear of falling, perhaps, or simply a fear of realizing how insignificant you are to the world. Either way, he tightened his grip around her waist and whispered into her ear: "Don't look down."

                Lily, naturally, looked down, and a second later gasped.

                This time, however, it was not because of the heights.

                They were directly above the field of lilies, which from the air appeared as a sea of colour, swaying and quaking under the hand of a gentle breeze. The shape of the field, it seemed, was one large heart – something she couldn't have told from land. She had been right, mind you, about the white lilies in the center. There were lots of them, sticking out against the vibrant coloured ones quite nicely.

                And they spelled two, simple, shock-inducing words.

                Marry me.

                She read it once, twice, three times; almost to make sure she wasn't imagining it. When she realized it was not solely her overactive, wistful imagination but the actual planted formation of the flowers she mouthed something silently, not managing a sound any more than a squeak.

                James grinned behind her and, with a tilt of his wrist, landed them in the center of the field.

                Lily slid off of the broom with a dazed expression, staring forward blankly, mouth ajar slightly. The field was spectacular from the center of it, on the ground, but the shapes weren't apparent. "I…" unable to add anymore to the sentence she simply turned around. Broom discarded, James was on one knee, arm extended and the diamond ring in the velvet box he was holding glittering faintly. There was an earnest, rather hopeful smile on his face as he peered up at her and said, simply:

                "Marry me?"

               

                Lily let out another squeal and tackled him.

                James overbalanced, and the two tumbled backwards into the lilies, successfully flattening quite a few. There was a moment of silence, during which time Lily simply kissed virtually every square inch of him she could find, before she pulled back long enough for James, chuckling, to raise both eyebrows and ask a rather vital question.

                "Is that a yes?"

                Lily, who was smiling broadly now, let herself fall atop James, arms spread over the ground on either side of his head. It occurred to James, suddenly, that the way Lily was smiling gave the impression she was about to cry, and although it was dark, he was pretty sure her eyes were even brighter than usual. Nodding her head, slowly at first before more enthusiastically, she swallowed.

                "Yes. It's a yes."

                He wasted no time in pulling her into a kiss.

                They simply kissed for a moment, surrounded by lilies in the middle of a field that said marry me, swathed in moonlight surrounded by silence, completely content with the world for a moment. Lily pulled away after a minute, letting her head come to rest in the center of James' collarbone. One of his arms slunk around and over her waist to take the ring from the small velvet box held in the other hand. Taking her left hand in his he slid the ring onto her finger.

                "I love you."

                "I love you too."

                It didn't matter which of them said it first.

                Simultaneously giving a sigh of contentment, James studied the sky while Lily studied the lilies framing them. It couldn't have gone better, James decided with a soft smile. He was right – it probably couldn't have.

                "James? Just one thing."

                "Yeah?"

                Lily giggled and buried her face in his shirt. "There's a goat eating your proposal."