Part Two

"I would ask you what it is that you've done since I last laid eyes upon you, but I have an inkling that some of the more outlandish tales I've heard are most likely correct." Elizabeth smiled softly and rolled the stem of her champagne flute between the slender fingers of one hand. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him and tucked a thick lock of reddish brown hair behind one ear.

He sighed and crossed his legs at the knees, re-draping his robes about himself as he contemplated the bubbles in his own glass.

He had missed Elizabeth's company more than he had known, and now that she had treated him as she had before his fall – as if nothing had happened, as if he were no longer the same man she had last shared drinks with, as if it had not been over a decade and a half – he thought he could further expand upon why he found her so agreeable.

Elizabeth was consistent, intuitive, and she had a simultaneously annoying and relieving way of alluding to what he would say before he said it...thus saving him the troubles of menial chit-chat.

She was silent and sipped from her glass, waiting for him to speak. When he did it was not the elaborate explanation and confession he had imagined he would lay upon her in a moment such as this.

"I missed you." He said simply. When she did not meet his eyes he set down his glass and leaned forward in the arm chair had not occupied for so long a time and took hold of her knee. When her eyes met his he repeated himself in a firmer tone. "I missed you.".

"I heard you the first time, Tom." She replied blandly. He had hoped to hear that she had missed him too, or that she was glad to hear that...that she had some sort of opinion on his feeling of longing for her and when she did not give it to him he repressed his frustration with her.

"All the while I was gone, living like nothing; with no one...I missed you." He tried to impress upon her the intensity of this private longing by gripping her knee harder and gesticulating with his free hand; placing it first over his heart and then holding an open palm towards her.

She was silent a moment longer. A moment that ached to stretch the limits of his patience but finally she replied. "I believe you." She said softly and then placed her hand on his and coaxed him to relax his grip upon her. She turned his hand over to examine his palm, rubbing it gently.

"Did you miss me At all?" He asked, unable to keep his mounting frustration from his voice. She looked at him sharply and he lowered his head, peering at her side-wise.

"Of course I did." She said sharply. "But I put you away, I packed you inside. I didn't believe I should grieve and I didn't dare hope you'd come back, so I just shut you up." Her fingers closed around his wrist and she handed it back to him before releasing it.

She stood up and swept her robes back as she turned on him. Her tightly controlled fury did not annoy him, for he had expected it from her. While her words stung and the edges of his mouth twitched with the restless desire to offer a retort, he remained silent and let her speak her fill.

"You supposedly died in that child's home! They say call him 'the boy that lived' and that he somehow defeated you. But how could that be? It would not have been a factor what skill level you possessed for that child had no wand, the child had no sense of self or of a way to combat you. And I knew...I knew...that whatever had happened that night, that night you said you would 'be right back' that it was you. You caused your own demise! You failed to foresee something that you ought to have! Such failures to foresee things are what have always lead to your failures!"

She pressed the fingers of one hand to her brow as if it ached before continuing. When she did she spoke with animation, and dared – as only she was permitted to do – to point at him in accusation.

"Despite what your followers fancy their roles are in your life, it is not one of counsel! You do everything alone and those around you are not permitted to challenge you. Thus you fail to challenge yourself! That is what killed you that night. That is what has caused you to be what you are now and that is what took you from me!"

He stood up and went to her, taking her by the arms. She pushed herself away from him and glared up at him with spite on her lips and something like hate in her eyes.

"You have caused everything in your life that has gone wrong by your failure to realize that you can be wrong!" She very nearly spat at him and when he took her forcefully into his arms and kissed her she fought him, trying to push away and beating at him with her fists. But when he didn't let go, the fight in her fled and soon she was flaccid. She returned his kiss and it was salty with the taste of her tears.

He took her to bed then. At some points she fought him again, at others she received him as willingly as he took her. In conclusion she bit into his shoulder deeply enough to draw blood but the pain was welcome and he returned in kind to her. When their pairing was reduced to holding and kissing the taste was morbidly delightful; coppery and unique. She was exhausted after and he held her while she slept, running his long-nailed fingers through her thick and luxuriant hair.