This is the second of two posts to be posted today. --elle

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Entr'acte Three

Paris, May 1985

you used to captivate me
by your resonating light
but now i'm bound by the life you left behind

from My Immortal recorded by Evanescence

The early morning mass had gone well. Darius' small homily on the importance of sacrifice had resonated, or so it seemed, with the dozen or so regular parishioners who attended the early service. He stood at the entrance of St. Julien Le Pauvre and shook hands and made small talk.

He'd been in an excellent mood the past few days. True he felt a bit wiped out… unusually weak as he'd left Notre Dame and Methos and Eleanor Thursday night. He'd seen the love in their eyes and taken the chance. He'd been unwilling to explain to them… tell them what he was doing… He wasn't certain it would work…

He'd embraced them both and focused the power within him at them both. He'd felt the change in them… and he'd felt the change in himself. Some part of him was gone. Something of the Ancients was no longer with him. Something still was… he knew… but something was also gone. Some part of them had reached for Kritis inside Eleanor, and the part of themselves that had dwelt also in Methos and Eleanor… and made the leap. He'd let it go joyfully… hoping that by this sacrifice… the future would be born.

It always took three. He'd stared last week at the juxtaposition of a tomb rubbing from a Mayan burial site, a carved Venus found at one of the caves west of here during World War II… and the photograph of the Egyptian obelisk. He'd shifted the photograph to the left and suddenly it had made sense to him.

The three together completed the symbol for rebirth.

Aja had whispered it to him as he saw it. Havron had shouted triumph! And Darius had realized how it was that immortals did not have children… but how it was possible.

It takes three.

There must be a bearer, a sire, and the quickener.

Darius had quickened them and sent them off. He'd explain things to them when next he saw them. He'd apologize for not explaining earlier… he'd been uncertain about it… He truly hadn't understood any of it until he'd held them both and gave part of himself to them so that through their love… a child would be born. And with the birth of that child… would come the knowledge of the possibilities of the future… and the understanding of their shared past. A child… born to immortal parents would be the fulfillment of the Game… A child would be the key to the prize that they all sought. They would Gather together… all that remained… and they would embrace the future and make peace with the past.

Darius waved farewell to the last of his parishioners and was turning to shut the door when he saw a disheveled Eleanor stagger through the gate. Several people looked askance at her. She walked as one drunk or on drugs.

Stopping at the door she wavered… her mouth moved open and shut. "Darius…" a voice issued from her… a voice that wasn't hers. "Help us… " She collapsed into his arms.

"Do you need help pere?" old Marcel asked, returning to the church door.

"Non… Marcel… I can handle this," Darius replied and waved him off.

He brushed Eleanor's tangled hair from her face and felt her feverish brow.

Her eyes fluttered. "Help us Darius!" the voice whispered from her slack mouth.

He picked her up and regardless of the danger swiftly carried her across the street, then down the block to the covered archway between the two ground floor apartments of the false building. He set her down and reached for the key he kept in his robes. Unlocking the gate he carried her in and locked it behind him. Then he carried her to the spring.

As she lay on the grass he cupped water into his hands and held it to her lips. Some went in her mouth. She coughed and swallowed.

"The water does nothing for us," he said, "… but maybe this time it will as you need something. I don't know what else to do."

Eleanor whimpered.

Darius leaned back against the rocks and held his head in his hands. What had happened? What had gone wrong? Or was this normal… the way of life and death for their kind? Had he done wrong? Was this his fault? Where was Methos? Why wasn't he here?

Darius' mind was a whirl of questions and doubts.

Finding no answers in the silence within him, he finally gathered her into his arms once more and carried her upstairs to her bed. He straightened her legs and arms and brushed her hair back. She was perspiring heavily. Sitting on the edge of the bed he sighed and reached down to pull the covers up. As his hand passed her abdomen he felt a pull… something needed him.

Darius hesitated and then gently lay his hand on her. His strength was being pulled from him. The developing child within was hungry and needed to be fed. Its rapid development needing more and more of the life force which sustained immortals. Like any child… it knew only that it was hungry and that it needed. Darius relaxed his hand and felt the draw of life. He gave it.

Eleanor's color improved and her fever seemed to break. Evidently she'd been nearly drained. Darius smiled as he felt her brow with one hand and continued to let his life pour into the child. It needed so much… and he had it to give. He gave it willingly. He would not let her die.

Finally the draining seemed to stop and the child seemed to sleep. Darius noticed that Eleanor's abdomen protruded slightly like a woman entering her second trimester. He sat back and crossed his arms… rubbing one hand thoughtfully across his mouth. This was unexpected. The child shouldn't form so fast. It should be like any mortal pregnancy. No wonder she was being drained… The growing infant needed nine months' worth of strength and power in days… not months. Eleanor had never had much strength. That was partially his fault.

He'd convinced her eight hundred years ago of the rightness of his path… of the need for immortals to serve and care for the mortals around them. He'd sensed her capacity for service and her innate ability to give of herself to those around her in those early days… and he'd built on that. She'd managed to stay out of the way of challenges in an attempt to honor his wishes. That she'd never taken a head… killed an immortal and absorbed a quickening ever… had never occurred to him at the time. Not until she was burned in that fire. He'd seen then that her strength was waning… that it took so long for her to heal from burns that for most immortals healed in hours.

He'd pushed her out into the world after that… even more than before. When she'd finally taken that first quickening… from the man who'd come for him… the man who'd held the quickening of the last of the three Ancients… he'd realized that it was her first. He should have died that day! He had been ready to die and allow the Ancients to at last be reunited. He'd known that his quickening would reform Kae Dhun much as he'd been reformed. But when Eleanor had taken it… the Ancients had feared that her guilt at killing Darius would destroy her.

Darius stroked her brow… feeling that already her temperature was rising once more. The child wanted more than she could give. It would consume her utterly… and there would be nothing left. "No!" he said aloud. "I will not let this happen. She had no choice in this… and I will end it."

Rising he went to the outer room and pulled a knife from a drawer. He stared back at her through the open door.

Resolutely he returned and folded back the sheet. He sliced open her dress down the front and eased her out of it. His hand rested on her once more and he felt the need of the child for more and more. Shaking his head he lifted the knife and prepared to plunge it in and carve this cancer from her. Eleanor would not die if he could help it!

"Wait!"

Darius paused at the collective voice of the Ancient within her spoke.

"Why should I wait? She's dying!"

"Yes."

"I won't allow this!"

"Would you destroy the future?"

"Without her…" Darius insisted, "There is no future."

"She chose another… not you… She is not your future."

"I don't care… I will not let her die for this."

"What would you do? To save her and the future?"

Darius' brows knotted at the thought. "I would pay any price," he finally whispered.

"Then wait!"

Darius angrily shook his head.

Within him suddenly, the small voice of Aja sounded for the first time in days. "Wait my warrior, just a little while longer before you act. Do as you have done… and wait. Then they will both survive."

Darius lay the knife down and replaced his hand on her abdomen. Again he felt the small drain that fed on him. Again he noted that Eleanor's color improved. He nodded his agreement. Her life was important… but so was this child. This child was the future of all of them. In this child would be all the answers when the time was right. Instinctively he knew this. Smiling… he stretched out beside Eleanor and let his soul feed theirs.

By nightfall… the time had come. Darius rose and positioned the knife carefully. He hated to hurt Eleanor in any way… but this was necessary. His stroke was swift… born of the memories of a thousand battles… a hundred challenges. He reached in and pulled the infant out. So small she was… she lay in the palm of his hand… bloodied and whimpering. Her tiny fingers encircled one of his and he felt once more the drain of all he was.

"She will need you for some time."

"And Eleanor?"

"She will not recall when she heals. She must not know. Not yet. She'd want to hold her and she mustn't… not until she regains her strength. Not until the child is much older. This child will need you, or she will drain and kill her mother."

"And her father?" Darius thought of Methos.

"No… he would never remain silent! He could not keep the secret… he loves her and knows how much she has always wanted this. He would insist that she be told. Say nothing to him of the child at this time."

"She must have a name." Darius thought for a moment. In the old Germanic tongue, a princess upon whose fate the world might rest was called Alis. He smiled as he caressed the tiny child. "You shall be Alisaunne," he whispered and felt a bond with her stronger than anything he'd ever felt.

He glanced at Eleanor and noted she was already starting to heal. He lay Alisaunne aside in a small basket and gathered the bloodied bedclothes. He remade the bed and arranged a washed Eleanor within it. "I will need to tell her something."

The voices were silent. Evidently he'd have to come up with his own tale. Darius washed the infant and wrapped her in a small cloth. Once more the child grasped his finger and seemed content as she pulled from him what she needed. Already she seemed slightly larger. He'd have to make arrangements.

Gently he carried her down the stairs and out of the gate. He knocked on the door of Madame Lucerne. She was a poor widow and he had settled her here in this apartment, ostensibly to keep an eye on the place. "The owners," he'd told her years ago, "asked me to find a worthy woman to live here and make certain all goes well. You may rent the other apartment out to whomever you wish and keep the money as your pay."

The arrangement had worked well. Madame was grateful for the place to live, and earnest and attentive to her new position. Elderly now… her children grown… she was half blind and in failing health.

"I need for you to care for this child until I can make other arrangements," Darius told her. "Just for a bit."

"The bebe is so small pere, what has happened?"

Darius lied… for the first time in centuries… he lied. "Her mother has died giving birth. I need to see to arrangements. I will be back." He caressed the tiny form and noted she again grasped his finger. It was to be a familiar pattern for the next two years. Alisaunne would live and grow… but it must be to Darius she turned for life… or Eleanor would surely die.

Darius crossed back to the church grounds. He needed to get Eleanor some food. He was racing to the monastery refectory when he sensed another. He paused and turned. "Methos."

Methos grabbed him. "Where is she? I woke this morning and she was gone?"

Darius told his second lie. "I have not seen her. If I do… I will tell her you were looking for her." He pushed past and felt Methos' hand restrain him.

"Where would she go if not here? Why did she leave?"

Darius told his third lie. "I'm certain I do not know." He closed his eyes and prayed for forgiveness. Each lie came easier than the one before.

Methos dropped his hand. "I don't know where to look for her? I don't even know where she lives… she's never shared that with me."

"I need to go my friend. I have a parishioner who needs assistance." That at least was the truth.

Methos nodded. In the darkness Darius could tell he looked disheveled and at his wits end. The old immortal ran hands through his short dark hair. "I have to find her."

Darius nodded. "I'm certain she'll turn up. You know how she is… She likes to be on her own. Perhaps someone needed help."

"I don't think she has her sword," Methos said.

Darius sighed. "She's fine, Methos. I'm certain she's fine. Go home and wait for her."

Methos nodded and left as Darius stared after him, biting his tongue. He wanted to tell him… but the Ancients were right. As soon as he knew… Methos would tell Eleanor. It was their child after all… a child born and not found. But that child would need far more than either of them could give her now. And she would be a danger to them. They would be vulnerable to other immortals if they tried to raise her. Darius sensed that even Methos' power had dimmed somewhat. He'd given Alisaunne life… as Eleanor had. It was Darius' task now to sustain that life.

And he would… no matter what. He resumed his trek to the refectory. He had much to do and many plans to make to insure that Alisaunne would grow into her destiny. But Eleanor's face would haunt him… and the guilt that adorned his chosen path would weigh on his soul until the day of his death.