There was a moment of sheer panic, where the room seemed to spin before all movements became slow, like life was being played at half pace. Athenodora stared at Elizabeth with fire in her eyes, casting light on the ice in Eliza's soul, catching her off guard. Energy drained from the younger woman as her panic fueled the slowing of time, though it seemed Dora was less engaged in it, moving at a only slightly slowed pace. "Calm yourself, you'll freeze from the inside out, you're half human after all." Dora clucked the words like a mother hen, thought it only spooked Eliza more, half human?
The woman placed her hands on Eliza's shoulders, steadying her, but her skin felt like fire. Eliza jumped back, breaking the spell she had unknowingly cast, as Marcus flit into the room and cradled her in his arms, shushing her even though she had not said anything. "What have you done, Dora?" Marcus accused, shielding his mate from the ancient's view with his own body.
"I said hello," Dora deadpanned, "It's not my fault she was already running scared. Ask Demetri, I dismissed him from following her just a moment ago." She waved her hand in a general direction, as if that was where the tracker was.
"I-I'm fine, Marcus, really." Her voice was shaky, but her soul felt so at ease in his arms. Marcus smelt like freshly cut fields, it reminded her of going horseback riding as a child, inhaling the soothing scent of nature, of undisturbed, authentic beauty. Eliza always enjoyed cuddling, but with any of the three vampires, she simply craved to be in their presence, to touch without ulterior motive, just to feel them there.
Eliza separated herself from his embrace after ghosting her lips across his cheeks, a feather light kiss that made him glow with happiness and her feel so fragile yet empowered. She studied the woman before her, waifish yet graceful, with the palest hair and skin Eliza had ever seen. She searched her mind, wondering why the woman looked so familiar to her.
"If I may ask, how is Maggie fairing?" Dora questioned with a thoughtful tone, but it sent Eliza reeling. Her grandmother was a gifted painter, she loved to do portraits of people, especially historical themes. It was where Bayak's love of history came from, and Eliza's enjoyment of literature and art. There was a portrait Maggie had done in her youth, she called it the image of a spirit dream, though her daughter had chided that it was the product of psychedelic mushrooms and the seventies. It was a large painting of a woman, with skin and hair as pale as the moon, with a crown of fire on her head and a tarot card of the wheel face up in her hand. Athenodora's mouth crumpled at Eliza's reaction to her question, "Oh my...they never told you, did they?"
There's a recurring theme of displacement pounding in Elizabeth's head: how much was she ignorant to? Was she not Quilette enough to know the history of her family? To know how to have visions of a vampire?
Dora walked slowly towards Eliza with raised palms, as if she were a frightened animal. "I see I have much to tell you, did your mother never talk about your father? I had assumed you came here to find answers."
Marcus glared at the woman, the geers in his mind twisting. "What you said before, how you were waiting for a sign to appear, that you've been waiting for someone for years…"
Eliza's heart was pounding in her ears, her hands shaking. Athenodora stared at her, calculating. "There are three natural reactions to danger, to fight, to run or to freeze. So far I've seen you run from your family and freeze everyone around you. Have you tried fighting yet?"
"Fighting?" Eliza huffed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry...whoever the fuck you are...but within forty-eight hours I have found out that my dead fiancé is alive, albeit a vampire, oh, and let's not forget vampires are real along with werewolves or shapeshifters or whatever the fuck you want to call them, and everyone I have ever trusted is involved or knew of this to a degree, but never bothered to tell me. So unless you're going to nod and say 'same,' I don't want to hear whatever you have to say." She would never voice it aloud, but she truly just wanted to curl up with any of her mates—hell, all three of them—and let the feeling of their skin on hers make her feel better.
Dora, though, is unphased, her mouth a thin, white line. "My, you've had your head buried in the sand your entire life, haven't you?" The woman glares at the younger, who cowers behind her mate for a moment before the anger hits.
"Buried in the sand?" Eliza spats, "You mean living in the real world, not assuming myths are real? I mean, come on, which ones are real and which are fake, the Cold Ones? The Raven and the King of Time? I mean…" She huffs, crossing her arms. What is being expected of her is ridiculous, to have purposely believed what had been presented as fantasy her entire life?
"The Raven and the King of Time?" Dora echoes, a pleased mask overtaking her features. Her skin is translucent in the light, glowing like a flame. "I don't believe I've heard that tale before…" Her grin is feral, causing Marcus to frown.
Eliza glares at her, she had no desire to retell stories told to her as a child by her grandmother. She huffs out a breath, curling into Marcus once more. "Can I talk to you?" She murmurs, unsure. Yet when Marcus nods Athenodora disappears like the smoke from an extinguished candle.
Marcus runs his fingers over her arms, her face, studying that she is whole and well. "Are you alright?" He searches her eyes, seeking truth in the dark depths, but she has no words to give. He smells the salt before the first teardrop falls, he catches it with his thumb.
"Demetri made a comment last night, that he had never seen you so alive before, that I had lit something in you that he never seen so brightly." Eliza weighs her words, "Is that what a mate bond is? Fire in your veins?" She shivered, placing her palms on his upper arms, steadying herself, "Or is it ice, slowly freezing you from the inside out?"
"Elizabeth…" Marcus whispers. He holds her, cradling her to his chest as she begins to weep, Eliza feels as though her body was no longer that of a human's, but a river, flowing.
"I don't….I just don't know what to think anymore…" She hiccups, burying her face into his chest like a child. Eliza hates crying in front of others, it makes her feel weak. "And...And I'm supposed to be starting this new job next week. I mean, how am I supposed to get through orientation when all I can think about is my brother turning to a fucking dog!"
Eliza knows she's hysterical, rambling and blubbering, but Marcus makes no move to correct what she deems immature, he simply allows her to cry. Humans are such complicated creatures, complex and ruled by emotions. Where Eliza sees weakness, Marcus observes humanity in its rawest form, he misses the ability to cry and weep.
"Elizabeth, you don't have to work…" He picks his words carefully, wishing his brother were here, Aro was the one with a silver tongue. "At least not for now. There is a lot to adjust to."
"But, but my visa is dependent on the job, and I signed a contract and-" Her breathes are gasps, Eliza had not had a panic attack in years, yet there one was. Marcus cradled her to him, shouting out for someone, though she did not hear whom. Eliza's strangled breathing was cut short by the black haze of Alec's gift flooding her senses, causing all to be stil.
DoD~DoD~DoD~DoD~DoD~
Maggie was an astute woman, wise beyond her years even into her seventies. Her hair, though riddled with grey, still held fine, black strands that wound into a braid behind her back. With gloved hands she tended to her garden, the elder did not believe in store bought tomatoes, they just didn't taste as good as ones from her own crop.
Elizabeth slipped off her sandals and stood barefoot in the soil at the edge of the plot, her grandmother's back to her. She tried to cement this moment into her brain, the smell of the fodder and the sight of the sunshine, her grandmother's house was filled with such nostalgia and so many fond memories Eliza was sure this was the closest to heaven she would ever get.
"You're scary when you're quiet, Lizzie. It usually means you're up to something." Maggie did not turn around, but the smile in her voice was so genuine Eliza could picture it clearly. Eliza moved forward, dirt squishing between her toes as she closed the distance. The two women kneeled side by side as Eliza placed her bare hands directly into the soil, the heartbeat of the land, her grandmother called it.
"I'm not sure what all I'm up to these days." Eliza replied with a Cheshire grin. Maggie mirrored her expression with a roll of her eyes, pausing in her gardening to face her grandchild.
"You've upset your mother. What was it Louis said?...Oh yes, 'she be tripping'... I assume that means she's worried?" Eliza barked out a laugh at her grandmother's line of questioning. Maggie smiled, picking up a fist full of soil and squeezing it between her fingers. "This land is our legacy, Elizabeth. I'm sorry it' not meant to be yours as well."
"What do you mean?" Eliza asked, panic creeping in. Clouds rolled in from over head, the temperature dropping as it began to snow.
"Have you dreamed of the man of ice lately?" Maggie pressed, lifting her limbs from the ground and standing next to her granddaughter. Eliza's gaze darkened, confirming her question. "You've been looping again, then?"
"Looping?" She thinks of all the times she has twisted back time, to save Tory, to save her own skin. "How do you know about all that?"
Maggie smiles sadly, her soil covered hands press against Eliza's cheeks, her thumb swipes the dirt across her lips. Eliza can taste the crackle of power on her tongue. "Ask Dora to help you remember your dreams…" Maggie whispers, kissing her granddaughter's forehead, "Like this one."