Disclaimer: standard

Warnings: incest, sexual content

A/N: Well, here we are again. I am so overwhelmingly grateful to everyone who reviewed. Thank you so, so much! You keep me going!

On to the update:

The plot thickens… what little there is of it, anyway.

In this chapter, I think you'll get an idea as to why I titled the story "Dante's Stars." (It relates to "The Divine Comedy," as you might've noticed.)

You may also see how that particular piece of literature could tie in with the Bookverse cannon. (At least, it looks that way to me.) Snicket is known for making references to literary greats, including George Orwell and, of course, Edgar Allen Poe.

I confess, I truly hate sending Violet and Klaus back into trouble. But go they must. We all have to face things eventually, don't we? The good news is that we are never entirely powerless. We always have a choice about our own actions.

And if they don't go, we'll never reach the end of this story. :D

More to come, as soon as I can manage it. Thanks for reading!

As always, I hope you enjoy…

Pretani


What Endures

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."

~ Oscar Wilde

"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."

~I Corinthians 13:13

"Many are the starrs I see, but in my eyes no starr like thee."

~ English saying used on posey rings


All at once, their peace was shattered by a loud crash, the sound of glass breaking. Violet's eyes shot open. "Klaus…"

She felt a burst of cold air, his body tense beside her. The doors are open.

They were on their feet in an instant, both of them disoriented and scrambling for their clothes, and Violet didn't know whether she'd grabbed his shirt or her own. It's all the same, really, she reminded herself. Indiscretion would be the least of their worries now.

She glanced apprehensively at her brother, and then at the doorway. The lantern lay in front of them, smashed into pieces, glass shards littering the ground like diamonds.

"Vi, could the wind have done that?"

"I… I don't know." She pressed her hands against the left door, testing the weight. "Are you sure you closed it all the way?"

"I did," he said. "I know I did."

"It's awfully heavy. I don't think the wind is strong enough to- Klaus, wait!" She shouted after him as he ran out into the rain.

He scanned the ground, searching for footprints, for any sign of an intruder. The yard was half submerged, water coursing by him in swift torrents, like a shallow river.

"Can you see anything?" He could barely hear her voice above the roaring in his head.

"No… It's no use, Vi." He stumbled back inside, felt her clutch his arms in a white-knuckled grip. "There's no way to tell."

"But someone might've been here…they might've seen us!"

They looked to each other then, caught in the same terrible thought. Sunny.

Heedless of the rain, they raced back to the house, to the room they shared with their little sister. It was dark and quiet…the bed was empty…

"No, oh no..." Violet pulled away the sheets, panic crushing the air out of her lungs, making her dizzy. "She's here. She has to be here!"

They tore the bedclothes off, even on the upper bunk, but Sunny was nowhere to be seen…

"Aww." A familiar sound rang out from the kitchen, startling them. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Good morning. We were just about to call you," Ethie greeted the elder Baudelaires as they clattered in. "Your little sister made our breakfast this morning. She's quite good."

"I cooked bacon and eggs and pancakes." Sunny told them. "It's easy."

They just stared at her, pale and gasping for breath, as if they were in shock.

"What?" She said, indignant. "It wasn't that bad last time."

Violet wanted to seize her into a hug, but now that would only show that they'd been scared half to death. And Sunny would want an explanation. There's no need to tell her... not yet, anyway. "It wasn't bad at all." She forced a smile. "I'm sure you've done a fine job. You always do."

She clasped her brother's hand, so hard her fingernails dug into his palm, and he squeezed back.

"We just need to wash up," he said quickly, hauling Violet out of the room with him, and down the hallway.

"To wash up?" She smiled wryly. "Did you happen to notice that we're soaking wet?"

"Hey." He gave her a tired grin. "It got us out of there, didn't it?"

She only sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. And once they were well away from the kitchen, they fell into each other's arms with relief.


Though the day went on without further trouble, Violet couldn't deny the feeling that someone was watching her, just out of sight. She jumped at the smallest sound, her nerves on edge, and, try as she might, she couldn't hide it from Klaus. There were no secrets between them now.

He found reason after reason to stay close by, more than usual, and she loved him for it. His presence calmed her, filled her with a warm sense of belonging. But nothing could erase the chill that had seeped into her mind.

The house was very still after Sunny and Ethie went to sleep. Rain pattered on the roof like the hoof beats of a thousand tiny horses, and they were alone again, sprawled in front of the darkened fireplace.

The thought of going out in the gusting winds and mud and damp was none too appealing to either of them. And the shadows gave them cover, made them bold enough to risk a few hours together in the relative comfort of the house.

She lay on the floor beside him, her head resting on his chest, the blue, woolen blanket draped across her legs. His hands smoothed over her shoulders, up and down her back, and she was melting, languid in the circle of his arms.

He kissed her, softly at first, then deeper, his fingers brushing over her face, winding in her hair…He was so gentle, her brother. She needed him, needed the rush of feelings he kindled inside of her, at once tranquil and exhilarating.

She would never tire of being kissed like this.

But then, without warning, there were brutal hands at her throat, tearing at her hair, trying to-

No! She tore herself away from him, shut her eyes against the memory. He wasn't here, he wasn't….Gingerly, she touched her neck, as if to reassure herself. Sometimes she could still feel the bruises, the iron clamp of his fingers…

"Vi?" Her brother's voice drew her out of the chasm. "It's him, isn't it?"

He knows. Her heart sank at the thought. I didn't say a word about it, but he knows.

She nodded, hugging herself as if she were cold suddenly.

He laid a hand on her arm. "I didn't mean to remind you."

"You didn't. It's not your fault, Klaus." Her voice was small, her eyes downcast. "After this morning...I…I can't help it… I see him."

"Do you really think he was here?"

"I think he always finds us, he always comes back. He won't stop until he's taken everything." She turned to him, burrowed into his arms, as if they might be forced apart at any moment. "I think he'll be back again…for me."

He was breath to breath with his sister, wrapped around her in a close embrace, and he couldn't tell her what he wanted to say- that he would die before he'd let her be taken, that he'd never let her go. She won't stand for that, she'd rather be the one to…I can't…

Pain wrenched through him with violent force, so strong he wondered if he'd survive it. Until he's taken everything... "He can't have this," his voice was rough, resounding in the silence. "He can't have you."

They held each other then, for a long time. Whatever may come, they were secure with one another, and in that assurance there was freedom.

"You remember all of it, don't you?" She spoke into his shoulder.

"Yeah," he said softly. "I do."

"How do you do it, Klaus? How do you live with the memories?"

He pressed a kiss into her neck, the dip in her throat. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. "I don't know…I think it's like the Divine Comedy." She had to smile at that, in spite of herself. "Do you know the story?"

She shook her head slightly. "Give me the short version."

It never ceased to amaze her, the way he came alive when he thought of his books. There was still so much of the boy in him, the fervor he reserved for precious little else. She saw it in his eyes when their baby sister was threatened. And every time he looks at me…

"Well," he began. "Dante is the author and the…the hero, I guess. He lost the girl he loved, when she died. Her name was Beatrice."

The words stirred something in the alcoves of her mind, a deep feeling, like an echo from a far off place…She closed her eyes, tucked herself in against him. It's all too much…

"He's left wandering in a dark forest," he went on. "But no matter how bad things are, he can look up and see the stars."

She loved his voice, the steady drum of his heart, and she wanted to have him back inside of her, to forget that she'd ever known anything but this.

"Then he meets the ghost of Virgil, the old Roman poet, who brings him a message from Beatrice. She wants him to make a…a journey into the land of the dead. So he goes." His lips grazed her ear, kissing here and there, feeling her jolt at the touch of his mouth. "He goes through Hell and a wall of flames to get to her."

"Klaus…" He'd read the Bible, she knew, just as he read every other book he could get his hands on. But I didn't think he believed it… We've never had much use for religion.

She peered up at him through dark lashes. "Do you believe in Hell?"

"No," he said. "At least, not in some afterlife… It's metaphor."

She looked at him skeptically.

"No, listen, Vi. I think the stars are supposed to be faith, hope and love. They're what we still have, when nothing else is left." He wore a lopsided grin, lifting the solemn tone of his story. " It means there's always a little light in darkness."

We do have a kind of faith, she realized. That everything happens for a reason, that there's always something… These ideas were a source of solace, a refuge. We have faith in each other.

"What about Hell?" Her eyes were troubled.

"It's where I'd be without you."

He said it so simply, so heartbreaking in his intensity. His voice shattered her like fragile glass, pulled her back together again… And she wanted to cry from all she felt, didn't know how she'd ever live if he were gone…

There were tears in her eyes when he kissed her, when his hands framed her face, tilting her head back…"I want the memories, Vi… because you're there." His eyes were soft, darker than she'd ever seen them. "You are my stars."

She skimmed a line down the side of his face with her fingers, with her lips, and he felt the cool trace of the teardrops on her skin.

"Violet…" He raised her hand, placed a kiss to her palm, the back of her knuckles. "I don't ever want you to be afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid," she said. "Not with you."

In a breath, she closed the distance between them, merged with him in a kiss, fierce and tender. And she never meant to stop, wished she could seal herself to him so they might never be separated.

His hands were everywhere on her body then, edging the nightdress down her shoulders, followed by the heat of his mouth…

Beneath the hem of her gown, his palm ran along her slender legs, his fingers searching, sliding in…first one, then another and another…

She hummed a low moan their kiss, sobbing lightly as he made a slow, gentle assault on her senses.

He could feel her clenching, her body breathless under his, all balmy scents and soft cries, and he kissed her, kneaded and caressed her, until he thought he would give up…

He delved into the hollows of her neck, wreathed kisses to her breasts while her fingernails scraped his back. And he drank deeply of her, his movements unhurried, as if they had time enough to spare.

Her hands slipped into the waistband of his pants, moving them away. She felt him gasp against her skin when she found him…

He shut his eyes, let his head fall to her shoulder. And she explored every bit of him, lovingly, teasingly.

She was like velvet, her touch silken in the cool night air, and arousal surged in him as she whimpered, his fingers shifting back and forth…

Then he was there, cradled between her legs, and he sank into her, sheathed himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust. This was where he belonged.

"Love me," he pleaded, drowning in her. "Always love me."

"Always… always… always…" She spoke in a whisper, a promise that possessed him even as she did. And with each faint word, his spirit soared.

She tossed her head as he plunged into her, harder, faster…He felt so good, fit her seamlessly, and she just wanted to keep him, just like this…

They were no longer two orphaned children, no longer brother and sister in the darkness. She was the delicate hands that gripped his shoulders, the sweet, sweet warmth surrounding him. He was the strong arms at her back, the thundering beat inside of her.

The earth seemed to swirl around them, water and wind and silver light... And she hardly felt the interruption, the brief twinge of loss before his fingers took his place, embedded firmly in her body…The ache was nothing, a small price, and she would pay it gladly for this, for him…

When the storm had passed, they came to rest side by side, in each other's arms.

He felt her exhale, the brush of her voice on his neck. "Does he find her, Klaus?"

"Yeah," he said. "She's waiting for him...on the other side of the fire."

It almost hurt, he was holding her so tightly, as if he could draw her into him. But she only huddled closer as he breathed in her ear. "She takes him to Paradise."

She could feel the spark in him, his smile, knew that he wanted her again. And there was no place she would rather be.


A peal of thunder boomed overhead, and Sunny cried. Klaus staggered up immediately, pulling Violet with him. He fixed his clothing and helped her with the nightgown.

They glanced at each other guiltily when they saw their little sister, frightened and alone in the dark bedroom. "It's okay, Sunny." Violet hugged her as Klaus lit the candle on the table. Thunder rattled, louder this time.

"I'm scared, Violet. I hate thunder." Sunny crawled into her lap.

"I know." Violet patted her back gently. "It's alright, we're here." Sunny was a brave girl, always, but she still had nightmares about Hurricane Herman- the ear-splitting roar and the turbulent winds that nearly swept them all away.

I don't know how we made it, Violet thought. We could've been killed or injured or trapped in the debris. Maybe we aren't so unlucky after all. It's strange, how time can change your view of things.

She looked up when Klaus said her name. He had retrieved their blanket, and a few extra quilts from the closet.

"Will these work?" His voice was calm, his eyes so deep, unwavering.

She could have kissed him again, then and there. "I think so," she said.

With Violet's help, he used the quilts to form a makeshift tent on the lower bunk, and the three of them curled up together inside.

The rain lashed resoundingly against the house, wan light filtered through the blankets in a soft, colored glow, and the little girl settled in between her brother and sister, feeling warm and sheltered.

She did notice that her siblings seemed unusually at ease. With the unbiased eyes of childhood, she glimpsed their flushed faces, the slight half smiles, and the flicker of emotion between them. Sunny could not guess at the reason, only that while she was sleeping, she had missed something.

The thought departed as quickly as it came, and she drifted off once more. The youngest Baudelaire knew well that her life could transform in the blink of an eye. As long as she had Klaus and Violet, nothing else mattered.


Unwilling to leave Sunny in the house by herself, they brought her with them to the barn that morning. The Baudelaires checked every shadowy nook and cranny, even the hayloft, though it was little more than a crawl space. And only then did they tend to their farm duties.

Sunny did make an effort to help, though at first she was groggy and still partly asleep. "Why'd you bring me?" She wanted to know. "You never bring me in the morning."

Violet sighed, wondering how much she could say without causing undue harm to her sister. "We want you with us," she finally answered. "It's not good for you to be in the house alone."

"What about Ethie? She's in there." Sunny put down the pail she was holding. "I wouldn't be alone."

"She can't hear very well, Sunny. Something could happen down hall from her room, and she might never know."

Klaus brushed against her then, in passing, and they shared a quick look. They were both aware of the truth in that statement- glaringly, exquisitely aware.

"But we've been here a long time!" Sunny stood with her hands on her hips. "Why are you worried now?"

Violet paused, as if to study her little sister. And in that moment, she made a decision. "Look," she said. "Do you see those doors, Sunny?"

The little girl nodded.

"Yesterday, while we were in here… they opened."

Her eyes grew wide. "Who was it?"

"We don't know." Klaus came to join them. "It could've been the wind." And he scooped Sunny up in his arms. "We just want to be cautious. You're the only little sister we've got."

She stared at him with a grave expression, far older than her years. "We're not safe anywhere, are we?"

"No," he admitted. "We're not safe anywhere. But no matter what happens, we'll face it together, you and me and Violet. We'll come through it." He hugged her to him, hoping that would be enough for her. It was all he had to give.

She hugged her brother in return, seemed to accept what he'd said. And then her attention turned to thoughts of breakfast. "When can we go in?"

"We're almost finished," Violet placed a kiss to her forehead. "Would you like to feed Roderick?"

Sunny had warmed to the old farm horse, who was too elderly and frail to carry anyone but her.

"Okay." She ran over to his stall after Klaus set her free.

Violet felt him beside her, his hand at her waist… the barest ghost of a touch…

She reached for it, as if by instinct, pulling his arm around her. "Thank you," she said, her eyes bright with unshed tears as she watched Sunny.

"For what?" He sounded surprised.

"I think you know.


"I finally found it. Behind my bookcase, of all places." Ethie brandished her picture album with an air of triumph.

Violet smiled to herself as she cleared some of the dishes from the table. For weeks now, the older woman would speak of little else.

Ethie flipped through a few pages, before laying it squarely on the table in front of them. Sunny looked at the grainy, black and white photograph. It seemed to show a football team. "Which one is he?"

"There he is," she pointed out one figure in the group. "My son, Gerard. Captain of the team." Her pride in him was plain to see." Do you know that they were undefeated all four years?"

Sunny had gone white, the color draining away from her face. "That's him!"

"What? Who is it?" Violet moved up beside her sister.

"That's him! The man on the trolley! I know it is!" She was bordering on hysterics. "It's him! It's him!"

"I don't think so," Violet tried to quell her outburst, conscious of the way they behaved in front of Ethie. We can't do this here. "Didn't you say he joined the army?"

"That's right," Ethie said. "He lives down south now. You must be mistaken, dear."

"I'm not mistaken!" Sunny stamped her foot. "It was him!" She frowned angrily at her brother and sister. "Nobody listens to children, and you're not listening to me!"

"Hey," Klaus got up from his chair. "It's not raining anymore. Why don't we go outside for awhile?"

"I don't want to," she sniffed.

"Come on," he said, encouraging. "I'll show you how to tell if another storm is coming."

"You should go out." Violet touched her arm gently. And then she leaned in closer. "We'll talk later, I promise."

Halfheartedly, the little girl allowed him to take her hand. "You promised," she said as they left the room.

He glanced back at her, and Violet flashed him a grateful look, uncertainty prickling at the corners of her mind.

Ethie seemed oblivious to their silent exchange, still focused on the picture of her son. "He's marvelous, don't you think?"

"Oh…yes," she smiled distractedly. "Yes, he is."

But her eyes weren't on the photograph.