So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending.
The Brighton Estate, London; October 23, 1940
A comfortable routine had begun since their marriage. Izabella still tended to her garden and flowers but now only two her horses that remained. James busied himself helping Belle when necessary but now he spent a fair amount of time helping a widow keep and help horses that were brought to her home. Some were malnourished and frightened, others came from once being in war and now with their skittish behavior nobody would take such a horse as many refused to even wear a bridle.
The spring consisted of her lavish soirées, though they had decreased over the years as parties such as hers were no longer common. One year was spent in Paris, another roaming their own country finding nooks and crannies that hardly anyone knew of. In the coming years she suggested a trip to America, perhaps even Tangier to see Adam and Eve. The years after the first war were splendid, the prosperity, the artwork and music that came from those golden years was unlike anything else. However, nothing lasts forever and that was apparent by the collapse of the economy. She and James were hardly affected in comparison to others and not being able to stand so many people suffer at least three times a week she opened her home in the evenings to provide anyone who came with a hot meal as it was the simple things in life that kept the darkness at bay.
Somehow it had happened again. Another war, it had already been going on for a whole year. A year of newspaper headlines dispelling the damage and causalities, but away from the western front in Germany and France there was peace in England though the forces were engaged. Izabella hated that there was yet another war after so few years and though James was capable of still fighting he refrained joining or being drafted.
Then one night in September it began. The bombings. Each night they would be woken by the pictures falling off the walls or the chandeliers swaying from the ceiling. The ground shook and rattled the very foundation on which the estate was on. In the morning when the day's paper was presented with a tray of breakfast it was the same. The same pictures of destruction and claims of Terror Rains from the Sky, yet the only thing that differentiated the current paper from the previous one was the date printed at the top. Izabella didn't know how long it would last and James didn't dare speak of what he truly thought about the war this time.
The ground shook every other minute, it was the forty-sixth night of bombings and yet Izabella buried her head into James's chest, blocking out what was happening in the outside world, refusing to believe that this was happening all over again. Even in the chaos she managed to drown out the noises and find some peace and serenity in the sanctuary that was her home.
James shook her shoulder, his brows furrowed as there was an ill feeling about the air but all she did move closer to him, further tucking her head into his chest. "Izabella, something isn't right. We need to leave." He brushed back her hair as her eyes began to open, adjusting to the low light but he could tell she was not fully awake and therefore the words he had spoken did not truly register.
"James." She mumbled his name and turned on her side; he did not wait for her to move from the bed instead he lifted her into his arms and ran down the stairs, throwing the front door open and continued the hastened pace as the singing and whistling of falling bombs sounded from overhead. She clung tightly to his chest, looking over her shoulder in disbelief as she made out the dark shape that was on a direct path to her century's old home.
They stood in the open field, almost near the tree line and it happened in the span of a second, yet it seemed to take hours. The immense heat and deafening noise, shattered glass and broken brick. It was something she would never forget for the rest of her life.
Everything was in flames, "No." It came out as little more than a scream as she ran towards the raging fire but James was quicker and his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her back from the wreckage. "Our home." She half whispered reaching towards the flames as if they would miraculously extinguish. Her heirlooms, the books she so loved some of which were the only copy of their kind, the music Adam had left behind. All the art and history was gone. Every remaining reminder of her family was gone, and now she and James had little more than the clothing on their backs. If she had to pick one word to describe what she was feeling it would have been bereavement, but it was absurd to mourn for a house like one would a loved one.
He held her in his arms and together they feel to their knees. Izabella did not realize it but she was the cause of the gathering clouds, the forthcoming storm and the rain began to fall like her tears. The ground shook again and she knew it to be another attack, another person killed, another home destroyed.
Her thin dressing gown was soaked through, as was James's shirt, their hair plastered to their faces. On silver necklaces they strung the light of stars, he begun to sing softly the lines of a song from a book now burnt, the lines that he had heard her humming to herself, creating music from words. On crowns they hung the dragon-fire. His voice was quiet but impressively smooth asides, only interrupted when lightening would flash across the sky and thunder answered the call.
She did not know how long they had sat in the field simply watching the flames die down only to begin again. Morning came but the sun did not; smoke filled the air and stung her nostrils as she took a step towards the remnants regardless of how cold she felt from the rain and how her knees wobbled. The vampiress looked to her stables, which were half intact. Her two horses that remained were crowded in a corner as she and James pushed open the jammed and singed doors.
Together they coddled the fearful creatures until they settled back down. While brushing back the graying mane of Scatha, Izabella refused to cry again, while she had lost the material pieces of her life the memories would forever endure. James watched as she stood and walked towards the house but he could not make himself stop her, instead he looked on as she walked to the smoking rubble where the foyer had once been.
The remains were smoldering, smoke rising into the air but Izabella walked through the barren entrance where the foyer once was. The stairs were barely standing yet she climbed them anyway with such grace it appeared that her feet did not even touch the splintered wood.
A noise caught between a cry of joy and sorrow left her lips when she saw the cracked remains of the glass Adam had gifted her and carefully she picked it up, holding it in her hands like a bird with a broken wing. Under charred rubble was a flash of metal upon brushing off the debris Izabella picked up the frame though it was still warm to the touch, in it contained her wedding picture.
At the sound of glass crunching she turned and faced the Captain, in his hands was the book she had been reading before bed, the cover was torn away and the edge of papers discolored. "What are we to do, James?" Her voice cracked while asking the question.
"Rebuild." His voice was hushed, he moved with caution about the fallen boards and broken windows until he stood before her. "You have lived here your entire life, Belle, you deserve to be able to stay." The vampiress leaned her cheek into his palm a smile appearing on her lips despite the despair and devastation that surrounded her. "We salvage what we can and we start over, together."
And so began the slow process of picking through possessions day after day, searching for things that were fit to keep or repair and to their surprise there was more material goods that survived than they had first thought. Three days passed and a box had been filled with clothes that had miraculously survived, another box filled with paintings and portraits that could be refinished and corrected.
But even in the darkest hours there was light to be found should they look in the right places. One autumn evening mayhaps a week after the fire and destruction she dressed in the finest gown that was worth keeping and he in his dress uniform. The piano that had found a home in the formal sitting area of the east wing had survived with minor damage. The surface was scrapped but could easily be sanded until smooth once more and varnished, it was apparent that it would need tuning and to have cracked ivory keys repaired but on that night it sufficed. They danced under the pale moonlight to the sound of a broken record and played small melodies pretending that the world wasn't all bad and the war waging around them was just something made up to appease the power craving hearts of men.
The Brighton Estate, London; May 19, 1946
"Oh please do come down from that ladder and look at this." The man descended the wooden steps until he was on the same level Izabella stood on, peering up at the painting being hung in the hall. "Take a look closer, now, the right side is higher than the left." Lowering his head he climbed the ladder for the third time in this spot and adjusted the painting until it was level and to the lady's liking.
"Is that all for today, Mrs. Nicholls?" She nodded and motioned for the young man to return to his room, the remaining decorative items could be hung at a later time.
"Oh! Ellis, may I remind you that I wish for everything to be ready within the week?" He shook his head, explicitly remembering the list she had presented him with what should be done each day. Izabella shook her head as he made his way back to the room she had allotted him for him to have with his wife, who happily agreed to be a maid at the New Brighton Estate from hearing others speak so highly of her.
"You're too hard on him." Came the light chuckling voice, turning on heel she looked at James and smiled as he placed his hands on her waist, just below the belt of the blue and white patterned belt of the dress she wore.
"I act as a mother would for I have known the boy since he was seven and orphaned, even if he is grown now." It was true, she had watched the boy grow up, even tutored him when it came to his schooling in turn all he had to do was help her with the horses. They both believed it to be a fair trade and though he would never admit it, Izabella was the only mother figure he could remember in his life.
James leaned forward and kissed her cheek, "Then in that case you are much to kind." He corrected himself with a small smirk as she pushed away from the man and gestured for him to look at the paintings that had been restored from the fire. The last one hung for the day was her cherished Monet piece.
"Have they finished the front entrance?" She finally questioned as for the past week they had been painting and staining the brick and wood of the exterior of the house. The Captain only smiled before sweeping Izabella off her feet and tossing her over his shoulder. Her reaction was playful in nature when she hit his back only once before succumbing to the fact that he would not set her down until they had reached their destination. The halls of her new home passed, some barren asides from the paint on the wall, others were lined with shelves for the collection of books that had been saved and those that had recently been purchased.
The living and sitting rooms passed in a blur as well as the music room and tea room before the crisp yet sufficiently warm evening air hit her skin and sent chills down her spine. Slipping from his grasp Izabella turned and looked up at the homes archways and pillars, the blue-green roof and stone that had been smoothed down to large bricks.
It was a bit grander than her previous home but that was only because of the post-war prosperity and how cheap it had been to high workers and constructionists. The exterior was now finished asides from any changes that she would undoubtedly make to the garden, the stables had been rebuilt and now instead of two horses there was five. Slowly life was correcting itself for Izabella Nicholls.
"I can't believe it." She let out an excited noise that almost resembled a squeak and fell back to the grass spreading her arms and legs out in joy. As if mimicking her emotion the sky was painted with reds and purples while the sun set in the west. James sat next to her, his fingers tracing over her collarbones and up her neck until he leaned over her and smiled but she quickly pushed herself up and kissed him until he could take no more. "You know, my darling, I think this calls for celebration."
From the icebox Izabella pulled out two flasks of blood and James retrieved their small sherry glasses but she only shook her head and brought back two wine glasses. "I believe every once and a while it does not hurt to indulge." The glint in her eyes was dangerous yet extruded the lustful desires she held for both blood and skin.
"How right you are." He grinned, revealing his own fangs as she filled the glasses to the brim. The sound of jazz music filled the house from the radio, Izabella picked up her glass and spun out of the room to the open hall that was for her parties should they continue. Following her was James, his hair tousled from the day's work and the fact that it was longer. Taking a long sip of the chilled blood she sat aside the glass and picked up the hem of her skirt before falling into an obscene rhythm that was perfectly in step with the song that played.
James trailed behind her, setting his glass down as well and fell into step with her. They moved in a blur as it was impossible to move slowly with such an upbeat tempo. Sweat had begun to bead upon his forehead and her skin glistened as they took a momentary breather and drank more until all that was left would be the residue on the sides. This time before the song came to a close she had her hands wound firmly in his hair and he was moving his lips up her neck, barely able to stand the stifling heat growing between them. "Shall we?"
The Captain lifted her from the floor and instinctively her legs wrapped around his waist. With a flick of her wrist the radio ceased to play and moving at inhuman speeds they were within their bedroom, her dress on the floor and his shirt already pulled out from his trousers and sloppily unbuttoned. Her eyes fluttered close when he kissed her and her hands worked of their own accord, seeking to render him just as unclothed as she was.
With golden eyes wide she fell back to the mattress and watched as he clambered over to the bed only to crawl over her, his weight looming just out of touch. "Don't look at me like that you gluttonous man." She laughed at the expression that came over his face, a mixture of lust and ire, but her spellbinding laugh was silenced when the Captain pressed his lips to hers. Her skin against his felt like a live flame that could burn but would never be capable of consuming.
James smiled and skimmed his fingers over her cheek, committing each detail to memory. Her palms pressed flat against his chest, stretching up to place a feather-light kiss on his neck. At the last second she scrapped her teeth over the pulse that was beating wildly beneath, had she a moment she would have relished in the way that chills erupted over James's skin, but he was too fast and before she could see what he was doing she felt it. Tiny nips on her skin, beginning at her neck and following a trail down her body. With one particular nip he drew blood and without so much as thinking his tongue swiped over the red fluid that beaded on her skin and within only a few seconds there was no mark, no scar, just pale flesh.
"Must you torture me like this?" The vampiress mewled, but regardless of her tone it could not displace the wicked smile on her red lips.
"Call me a sadomasochist." The Captain quipped back with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes, Izabella rolled her eyes and sat up to push James back until she could sit comfortably on his lap. His hand stroked the soft skin on her back and ran through wild curls whilst they exchanged countless and passionate kisses and words. James had laid her back to the sheets when they first noise came and instantly she flinched and he was sent back to the war.
"What was that?" She asked her eyes searching their room until finally she looked at him, a terrified expression coming over the previous on that was pure lust. James stood and grabbed the lounge pants that were hanging off the end of the bed, pulling them on while moving to look at the window. Izabella followed, though much more timorously as she pulled on his shirt that was left on the floor.
Over the tree tops the Captain could vaguely make out the bursts of colors that filled the air for only a second before disappearing against the starless night sky. Then only a few seconds later there was another pop and explosion of white and red. "Fireworks." He breathed turning to Izabella who fiddled with the button on the white button up. She looked disheartened for a moment, realizing that their moment had passed and would not return this night, James stepped closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, bringing her close to his chest before kissing her forehead. "It's just fireworks." He stated again feeling her tense as another exploded in midair.
"Will it ever get better?" She asked timidly, her hand resting on his chest and beneath her palm his heart was beating faster than usual. Her mind went back to the first time there was a storm after her house had been destroyed, how she bolted up in the night and feared that it was another air raid. And the celebration when the war finally ended even miles away from the city's center she could hear the fireworks and she knew that was the cause of the noise but it did not stop her from flinching and when guns were fired into the air at funerals and festivities she continued to notice that James was not at ease.
"I don't know." His voice was quiet, "I guess only time will tell." With his hand grasping one of hers he pulled her back to the bed and crawled in after her, his arms secured around her waist and her face buried deep into his neck. "I found something earlier that I think you will like," he whispered into her hair and at the statement she looked up at him. "I'll only be gone a few seconds." Izabella quickly kissed his cheek before he stood and walked from the room.
Moments later he returned with a package wrapped in brown paper and tied off with thick white twine. It was fairly small and light when he handed it to her. She looked up at him and he gestured for her to open it, carefully untying the knot she slipped the twine free and unfolded the thick paper away until the cover of a book was revealed along with the title. The Hobbit.
"I know it became one of your favorites and it wasn't found after that night." Her fingers traced over the runes on the spine and the simple depiction of Smaug on the bottom of the blue cover. "So I did some searching in the local bookshops until I found it." Izabella looked up at her Captain and smiled, her elation over the children's book in her hands would have been considered absurd if not for the fact that only a few years ago she had close to nothing.
Slipping under the covers she motioned for James to do the same and he did, wrapping his arms about her waist in a manner that he could looked over her shoulder as she opened the book and began to read. In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.
