Chapter 16

Joshua stared down at the goblet he held, filled with deep red wine that rippled like the wind over the sea. He set it down as carefully as he could, his hands trembling violently. He didn't drink of it for the wine held no appeal for him.

"How did I come to this?" he asked himself softly, leaning back against the wall and drawing the velvet drapes around him. He was sitting on the window seat of his father's work room… his work room now. There was so much that had to be done, none the least of which was reversing, one by one, all the evils that Andrew had ever perpetrated. He was, after all, a lord and had quite a bit of power. His holdings were not as paltry as Joshua had liked to believe; the king knew when it was a bad idea to insult the mages, especially one such as Andrew. And Andrew hadn't cared very much for those under his care, he never had.

Joshua sighed and rubbed him temples wearily. That was just one more thing to add to his ever growing list. Right now, he should be meeting or reacquainting himself with the inhabitants of his castle before preparing for a progress through his lands. But he couldn't. He just didn't have the strength to do it.

After Andrew had been slaughtered and Lizzie had fallen, for Joshua refused to say the word "dead"; preferring to remain in denial though he knew the truth in his heart, it had occurred to Joshua that he would have to face the other denizens of the castle. He opened the door and found at least half the staff standing there, trembling in fear that they would all be destroyed. At the very front were the five men who Andrew had worked most closely with, vassals and allies who were some of the very few granted access to his home. Joshua remembered them well; they were an avaricious, backbiting, jealous group with no care but for their own advancement, which made them of extreme use to Andrew and utterly worthless to Joshua.

"Lord Andrew," said the man in front. Joshua shivered in revulsion as he remembered that he still bore the face of the tyrant. He shut his eyes and turned away from them, performing the magic he had longed to do ever since he was seventeen. Now that Andrew was dead, there was no longer any force to hold the spell intact if one wanted to break it. So Joshua simply exerted the proper amount of magical pressure in the right place and hoped his face would return to normal. But he didn't feel that telltale tingle that meant his magic had worked. That was the weak point in the spell; he knew that was it. He had spent hours resisting the temptation to try and break it before Andrew was gone. So there had to be another catch…but what was it? Joshua swore violently under his breath. He didn't have the time for this now. Hell, he didn't even have time to grieve for his fiancée. What was most important, however, was to deal with these men. They were dangerous and would kill him if he showed a moment's weakness, so he had to watch his step. What frightened him was that the prospect of death no longer seemed quite so unwelcome. Joshua retied the mask around his face with a sigh, aware that everyone present would recognize him.

"What did you just call me?" Joshua said, turning back around with a menace that was not wholly feigned.

The five men just stared. Joshua smiled grimly. They undoubtedly remembered him as a thin, gawky sixteen-year-old boy with wild hair and frightened eyes. He was taller now and his body had grown into itself. His hair was tied neatly back, or had been, and the fear in his eyes had been replaced by something fierce. He twisted the signet ring that had appeared on his finger after the soul had departed his father's body for endless tortures in hell. "Lord Gilld," one of them murmured, his voice trembling slightly and they all bowed to the exact degree necessary and no further. The servants, however, remembered Joshua well and showed their devotion to their new master with a far greater amount of exuberance. Joshua's smile grew; he recognized many of those faces.

"Rise," he said softly in a tone that stated quite clearly he would brook no opposition to anything he would say. "Welcome to my home, Lords Trevor, Barton, Cherdell, Deptford and Massiline." It was extremely rude to group them all together like that, but Joshua didn't care; he never had much respect for them anyway. Their eyes widened, evidently they had not expected him to know or remember their names. They should have known better; he was a greater wizard than any of them and a wizard never forgot any useful information he was told. "I trust your stay up until now has been pleasant?"

"Very much so, my lord," answered Deptford, swallowing nervously.

"Good," answered Joshua. "I hope the remainder of it will be just as agreeable to you. Which brings me to my next point. By the time I awaken tomorrow morning, I expect all five of you to be out of this house and as far away from me as you can get. I suggest you think carefully about your actions over the past seven years for I will too. Remember, you either live in my lands or benefit from them, it is not wise for you to antagonize me further."

"With all due respect, Your Grace, your late father was-"

"My father, as you have already noted, is dead and, unless he has been crossing boundaries that no man can cross, will not be returning anytime soon. I, however, am very much alive and not in the mood to suffer insubordination. Have I made myself clear?"

"But-"

"Or do I need to remind you of what else I have inherited from my father?" The threat was not subtle and the men got the picture.

"Very well, Your Grace," said Massiline. "Thank you for hosting us in your castle." They strode away with their heads held high in disdain.

As soon as they were out of sight, Joshua sank to the floor and ripped off the mask, burying his face in his hands. He had shoved all the emotions behind a brick wall to deal with those imbeciles and now he had to face it. "Lizzie," he hissed, clenching his fists so hard he was leaving small, crescent shaped marks on his forehead. "Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie!" It was all too much for him now. He had thought to prepare himself for every eventuality, but never, not even in his worst nightmares, had it occurred to him that she would lay down her life for his. "This isn't how it's supposed to happen," he cried, tears flowing down his face, gathering on his chin before dripping off and landing in small, dark spots on the carpet beneath him.

A warm, caring pair of arms surrounded him. Joshua hiccupped and turned away, shouldering the person aside. He knew who it was and remembered how kind she had been to him. Allisande had been his first lover; the woman who introduced him to the "adult" world when he was fifteen and insatiably curious. She had been three years older than him, which made her twenty eight now and was now undoubtedly a matron with children of her own. "Joshua, relax," she said soothingly, stroking his hair. He wrenched his body away.

"Don't touch me," he groaned, his breathing ragged and uneven.

"It's alright," Allisande continued tenderly, rubbing his back and completely ignoring his protests, which were dying down fairly swiftly. "It'll be alright now. Hush, Joshua, don't worry. Everything will be fine."

"No it won't," Joshua answered through the tears that he could not stop. But he allowed Allisande to embrace him and hold him as the tear continued to fall. "She's dead." And he let go entirely, clutching her tightly as his heart completely shattered.

And it had only gone downhill from there. Joshua locked himself in Andrew's study, refusing to come out, either to eat or sleep. Allisande had managed to gain entry once, her lustrous red hair now streaked with grey as she eyed him with a maternal worry. He sat much where he did now, perched on the window seat with one leg dangling and the other bent at the knee. She had forced him to accept the food, but he left it on the desk, refusing to eat. She had left, muttering something about how he had always been stubborn. It had been the only thing so far that had made him laugh. The day had not been all bad, however. The five under-lords had decided that cowardice in the face of the Gilld blood was simply the better part of valor and had left as he had commanded. The rest of the household was beginning to put itself back together, though Joshua knew his magic would be required to deal with the fifty foot hole in the floor and the long tunnel that burst through half the guest rooms. But to do that would be to face Lizzie's body and he could not do that. Not yet, at any rate. Although he would have to ask soon.

"Christ," he growled, leaning his head back against the stone, "Why are you doing this to me!"

Diana sat crosslegged in midair, gazing down at the form below her. This was not going according to plan, not at all. She glared down at Lizz'es body. True, she was not in perfect shape and would undoubtedly limp for the rest of her life, but that was a small price to pay for survival. If she had survived and that remained to be seen. Diana had been there when she fell; using all the power her incorporeal body had left after healing Joshua, which wasn't much. She had kept Lizzie from dying on impact, which had not been easy. But the fall had not been kind and Diana had been working as hard as she could to knit bone, muscle and sinews back together. She didn't have the magic to make the extremities perfect, but she had the power to do the hardest part. She had protected both her skull and heart from too much damage and the rest had been complex but manageable. Now all she needed to do convince Lizzie that her body had not actually died.

"Wake up, you stupid girl!" Diana growled, glaring down. "I did not go through all this just to have you abandon my son now. He needs you!" There was no response. Diana rolled her eyes; of all the women in the world, Joshua would pick the one who could be stubborn even in her sleep.

There must be some way to bring the girl back to life, Diana mused. Perhaps if I went in there to find her… Diana pushed a strand of transparent hair out of her eyes. That might work. Of course, it would take an enormous amount of magic…but maybe not. Diana had no body to worry about leaving behind and most of that enchantment dealt with the problems of flesh. Diana shut her eyes and, with a surprising ease, began the search for the conscious self that was Lizzie. It would be just like being back in her head. They would be able to commune with one another using thoughts, but she would have to get the young woman to reach out for her…somehow. She found Lizzie's soul, the essence of who she was, her consciousness, hidden deep behind the walls of shock, terror and pain caused by Andrew, plus the mistaken knowledge that there was no body for her to survive in. Diana glared at the mental walls; they were far too real for her in this state. But it was another voice that distracted her, a voice where there shouldn't have been one. It was not so much words as raw emotion, a desire to be noticed and cared for. Diana nearly ended the spell from shock.

'You survived!' Diana nearly shouted at the tiny developing being inside Lizzie. 'How did you manage that?' The strange emotions shifted, sounding like a cry for love and a plea to be wanted all at once. Diana tried to soothe the frightened thing, for it was not its fault that it was conceived in such ignominy. It seemed to tremble, not understanding her words, but fully comprehending the tender tone. The fears inside the tiny child slowly began to dissipate and Diana sighed a sigh of relief, then wondered why she felt so bad for this thing. For all she knew, this could be the instrument of ruination for both Lizzie and Joshua. She remembered what Joshua's birth had done to her marriage. But there was another side to consider. Perhaps her efforts on its behalf was due to the potential it carried. This child could grow up to be like its older brother. If Lizzie and Joshua cared for it, that was. And if Lizzie woke up.

Diana was suddenly struck by a brilliant idea. No one had ever touched the unconscious needs of a fetus before. And yet this one was responding to her. What if she could use the child to breach the mother's defenses? Diana winced at what she would have to do for success, but she was determined to save her son and so, with a deep sense of regret, she began.

There was nothing more painful she could have done to that young child than reject it. But she did and the pitiful wails that emanated from its very soul made Diana's heart wrench inside her, so to speak. It was a poignant, emotional scream from a child that should not have been able to think such agony. Only Andrew, Diana thought bitterly, could sire a child with such pain inside.

Diana waited and waited as the soundless cries of the young soul within Lizzie grew more and more desperate. She hated to torture it like this, but she had to. Even for its sake, since no child could thrive in the womb of a dead woman.

The anguish coming from the barely formed mind could not get any worse and Diana shut her ears though not even that could shut out the pain. But something else could.

A new thought was heard, one that Diana recognized well. The child stopped its cries as its mother slowly soothed it, telling it that it was loved and cared for and would never be hurt again. Diana smiled broadly, proud of her grandchild that it could do what a full grown mage could not. The anguished soul slowly subsided back into the contented state in which nearly every child existed. Diana felt quite pleased as it dawned on her why people had never been able to commune with a child in the womb before. They remained in a shell of love and protection and had no need to reach out to find anyone else. But this child had. And thank God almighty for that, otherwise Lizzie would have been lost forever.

A pair of light blue eyes opened slowly and blinked. "Hello, Diana," said Lizzie with a small smile. Diana could have leapt for joy, she was so happy.

T.B.C.

A/N – There, I didn't kill her. Are you happy now? Of course, I did torture my Joshua for a bit, but he'll get over it. And I'm sorry, I know no one likes the baby. I just couldn't find a way for Diana to protect all of Lizzie's vital organs but leave her womb unprotected. Plus that would probably leave her barren and I would really like to see what the kids are like. Anyway, just to clear up a few things. Names, first of all. Andrew Gilld was born French, but he Anglicized his name when he was accepted at the court of the English king. Hence the two brothers having different last names and why Joshua's name is not particularly French. That said, Andrew's Duchy was granted by the English king, which means that it is (duh!) in England and his vassals may have English sounding names. Yes, the Beast's castle is in France; it's not that far away when one is magically flying. Second of all – babies' brains don't develop until at least the third month of gestation or so. Right now, the child is a little cluster of cells attached to the walls of the womb and small enough that I doubt anyone would know it was there nowadays. However, for the purposes of this story, personality, soul, consciousness, call it what you will, appears upon conception so, technically, the baby can reach out even though it only has the most primitive of emotions. Please don't extrapolate from this my opinions on certain touchy political-medical issues (not that any of you would, I'm just trying to cover my behind here), it just worked nicely for the purposes of the story that the baby be the one to save her. And I will get the mask off of Joshua for good, eventually. But this is Beauty and the Beast, spells end in a very specific way!

Now, for my conversation with the reviewers. I must say, it's all your fault that things turned out this way. Lizzie was never going to die, I can't ruin a good romance, it's inimical to my nature. Should I have told you that earlier? The baby, however, I was all set to kill off when it got all this hate mail. I felt bad for the poor little thing, it hadn't done anything wrong. But, you were the inspiration for the lack-of-love thing, so I guess I should thank you for bringing Lizzie back to life. So shortstef be careful what you tell me to do, occasionally reverse psychology works. And I'm so glad you were on the edge of your seat. And you really shrieked when Lizzie fell! Ahhh, it feels so nice when you like me.

No, Soofija, I won't go off to a desert island without a computer. I'm already having issues with my flight home in two months (grr, I hate airplane beaurocracies. Makes me wish I could fly!). Never fear, this story should be done this week. Or so I hope. But no promises.

Anyway, farewell until next time when, if I'm feeling nice, you may get a mushy reunion scene.

Levana (Damian)