For a while afterwords, Prue and Darius were virtually inseperable. She still kept her own bedroom, but spent most nights in his, and went with him on his crusades, trying to win people over to help him in his fight to break free from that place. She soon learned just how much this fight consumed him, and his bitterness began to absorb her as well. She stopped wearing her usual flowing, peaceful dresses in exchange for more dramatic blacks and blood-reds. Even her eyes reflected the change in her, going from a clear, crystal blue to a darker, intense shade.
One night, Prue was lying on Darius' bed when he came in, looking distracted.
"What's wrong, baby?" she asked, getting up. She stood behind him, putting her arms around his shoulders, with the sleeves of her long black sweater flowing down across him.
He turned around, reaching around her neck to play with the straps of her red halter top. "Nothing's wrong," he said. "We got a new arrival today, have you heard? A dark priestess. Would've gone to Hell, except that she died saving a mortal, in an accidental, roundabout sort of way. It wasn't enough to completely save her, so here she is."
"Have you been able to recruit her to your cause?" Prue asked, running her fingers over his lips.
"Actually, it didn't come up," he replied casually.
She narrowed her eyes. Usually, this was the first thing on his mind.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," he said, pulling away. He took a step back, and leaned on the desk. "I was just thinking, she could be useful. I never realized it, but we need a priestess to perform certain... ceremonies."
"Such as?" Prue pressed, stepping toward him. She leaned against him; even in her five-inch heels, he toward over her.
"Well, for instance," he started, pulling her closer, "She could marry us."
She looked up at him, surprised. "You really want to?"
He nodded. "Yes. I want us to be joined in a union so holy that no forces can break us apart. I want you to rule beside me as my queen, and when we're finally free of this damned place, I want you by my side. Will you be?"
"Always," she replied. He started to kiss her, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door.
Darius sighed. "Come in."
It was Saria, along with another maid, Clarisse. "Sir, the priestess Gwendolyn is downstairs. She'd like to speak to you alone," said Saria in her quiet, slightly British intonation.
"And miss, there's a package waiting for you in your bedroom," added Clarisse, in a voice even softer and more obviously accented than Saria.
"Thank you," Prue and Darius said at the same time. The servants nodded curtly and left.
"Well, I'll go make the arrangements, then," Darius excused himself.
Prue watched him go, and then strode across the hall. There, on her bed, was a parcel covered in plain brown paper. She unwrapped it to find a stunning black garment. The top was stomach-bearing and see-through mesh, and the skirt was long and wrapped around her perfectly. As she was trying it on, Darius peeked in the door.
She spun around for him. "Do you like it?"
He nodded. "It's beautiful on you. I knew it would be."
"You sent it to me?" she questioned. "But why just leave it here? Usually when you give me a present, you're actually the one to give it to me."
Darius shrugged. "I thought it would be nice to surprise you for a change."
She smiled. "You always surprise me."
"Well, then, you wouldn't mind one more surprise, would you?" he asked, literally sweeping her off her feet. "Gwendolyn is still downstairs, and she's agreed to marry us right away. How would you like that, hmm? A private wedding out in the garden, just the two of us? Save for Gwendolyn, of course."
Prue beamed. "Really? Right now?" Darius nodded, and carried her downstairs to the garden. The ceremony was performed under a full moon, and when it was finished, Prue felt an immedeate change in herself. The cold, not-quite-evil feeling she'd gotten the first time she'd kissed Darius came back full force, lodging itself deep enough in her heart to be nearly undetectable. Darius was now permanently a part of her.
One night, Prue was lying on Darius' bed when he came in, looking distracted.
"What's wrong, baby?" she asked, getting up. She stood behind him, putting her arms around his shoulders, with the sleeves of her long black sweater flowing down across him.
He turned around, reaching around her neck to play with the straps of her red halter top. "Nothing's wrong," he said. "We got a new arrival today, have you heard? A dark priestess. Would've gone to Hell, except that she died saving a mortal, in an accidental, roundabout sort of way. It wasn't enough to completely save her, so here she is."
"Have you been able to recruit her to your cause?" Prue asked, running her fingers over his lips.
"Actually, it didn't come up," he replied casually.
She narrowed her eyes. Usually, this was the first thing on his mind.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," he said, pulling away. He took a step back, and leaned on the desk. "I was just thinking, she could be useful. I never realized it, but we need a priestess to perform certain... ceremonies."
"Such as?" Prue pressed, stepping toward him. She leaned against him; even in her five-inch heels, he toward over her.
"Well, for instance," he started, pulling her closer, "She could marry us."
She looked up at him, surprised. "You really want to?"
He nodded. "Yes. I want us to be joined in a union so holy that no forces can break us apart. I want you to rule beside me as my queen, and when we're finally free of this damned place, I want you by my side. Will you be?"
"Always," she replied. He started to kiss her, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door.
Darius sighed. "Come in."
It was Saria, along with another maid, Clarisse. "Sir, the priestess Gwendolyn is downstairs. She'd like to speak to you alone," said Saria in her quiet, slightly British intonation.
"And miss, there's a package waiting for you in your bedroom," added Clarisse, in a voice even softer and more obviously accented than Saria.
"Thank you," Prue and Darius said at the same time. The servants nodded curtly and left.
"Well, I'll go make the arrangements, then," Darius excused himself.
Prue watched him go, and then strode across the hall. There, on her bed, was a parcel covered in plain brown paper. She unwrapped it to find a stunning black garment. The top was stomach-bearing and see-through mesh, and the skirt was long and wrapped around her perfectly. As she was trying it on, Darius peeked in the door.
She spun around for him. "Do you like it?"
He nodded. "It's beautiful on you. I knew it would be."
"You sent it to me?" she questioned. "But why just leave it here? Usually when you give me a present, you're actually the one to give it to me."
Darius shrugged. "I thought it would be nice to surprise you for a change."
She smiled. "You always surprise me."
"Well, then, you wouldn't mind one more surprise, would you?" he asked, literally sweeping her off her feet. "Gwendolyn is still downstairs, and she's agreed to marry us right away. How would you like that, hmm? A private wedding out in the garden, just the two of us? Save for Gwendolyn, of course."
Prue beamed. "Really? Right now?" Darius nodded, and carried her downstairs to the garden. The ceremony was performed under a full moon, and when it was finished, Prue felt an immedeate change in herself. The cold, not-quite-evil feeling she'd gotten the first time she'd kissed Darius came back full force, lodging itself deep enough in her heart to be nearly undetectable. Darius was now permanently a part of her.