A/N: Thank you, as per usual, to my magnificent Lurkers and Readers that have come on this journey with me. Please enjoy…and let me know your thoughts.

Love, Aphrodite, and Morphine

…

"What do you dream of?"

They were shielded by the great cropped hedges and the ancient crackled remains of low stone walls. Anias had pinned up her dark hair into an ornate bun, for the heat of the summer still swept with a powerful, fluid hand. She wore simple clothes, for she did not wish to ruin anything magnificent with the actions she had recently fallen victim to…

The silent kiss of morphine.

A young man with crows feet crinkling his blue eyes had been accompanying her – in fact, he had been the miracle that she had been searching for. A friend and companion of sorts, or perhaps someone, who truly could have been anyone, that was in the right place at the right time. She knew he came from the other side of the hedges, the very end of both properties – a meeting place that hadn't been trimmed or used for galas and parties in years. It was their tiny piece of heaven, a safe haven where parents could not control, where love could not swallow nor steal.

"I dream of my children," Raoul whispered, turning his face toward her; the pale, untouched moon. They lay together, but did not touch – there was a certain distance held between them – a hope within each of their hearts that their old lovers might return…and therefore, no overlapping or mistakes could be made.

"What are your children like?" Anias asked, reaching a slender hand up, running her fingers around the jagged white clouds in the sky. Raoul let out a short, breathy laugh; it was something foreign to him still; laughter. He had been robbed of everything, or so it seemed, and his mother had given him medicine to forget. She did not want his beloved to return – this, he knew quite well. But a part of him could not face this ugly, ragged truth…a part of him still wished for them to live happily together, where there were no secrets, no hysteria or walls – something he now blamed himself for, deeply.

"They are twin girls, both seven years old, resembling their mother in more ways that they know. I remember them being born, for that day I had been wracked by nerves…it was in Paris, at my estate…the midwife was covered in blood, and for a second I thought that…that Lillian, the second twin, would not make it. But she did, oh she did…but she did not escape unscathed. A birthmark marred her face – a wine stain upon her tiny little face." He sighed, turning his face away from Anias who now watched him carefully, her face a permanent, lazy smile from the wings that the morphine caused to grow between her shoulder blades.

"Did you keep her? Or did you send her away…? It might have been better, you know…sending her away. She would not be as ostracized." Anias said softly, moving the pale, feathery things upon her back. They grew larger and larger as she lay, pushing her to stand up and fly. But the ecstasy was too great for her to move, so she continued to curl into the dirt, her face inches away from Raoul's.

"Perhaps…perhaps I should have," he admitted, his bitten up lips slowly falling open, apart. "But Anias, I would do anything to protect my daughters. I did not wish to cast her out. I wanted her to feel normal, to feel loved…and I did not think it right to separate the twins at birth. And now…oh, what of now? Everything is such a stretched out mess. My wife went into hysterics; refusing to eat, crying every night before she came to bed. I saw all of these things happening, yet I felt I should ignore…ignore them. That they might go away somehow…but I was mistaken, Anias. So very mistaken. It put a rift between us…her, and I. And now I fear I've lost her forever."

"Strange," Anias murmured, "I have been in love with someone who had a similar ailment. He was quite handsome, although…half of his face had been severely burned. He was tall and strong, so impossibly immovable – that when I first saw him, I knew I wanted him to be mine. He built me this marble statue of Aphrodite, back in my own estate in Lourmarin. He used to say I was like the Goddess, herself…but I ruined his trust in me. I broke him because I became with child, and…and I was afraid. So very afraid."

"Lourmarin?" Raoul repeated, leaning his head in her direction. She nodded with pallid cheeks tinged pink by the afternoon sun.

"Yes, that's where I decided to build my estate. Somewhere away from my father…somewhere I could begin my life, alone. But Erik, my lover, he…he was so wonderful, in so many ways. He made me feel less alone…because I felt as though I were the only person in the entire world, sometimes. No one could talk with me normally, for I was born to be a Duchess…but why do ranks and royalty matter, in love? Aren't they just titles that we make up ourselves…something for society to lean on…something for us to lean on? Yet in the end they make us alone. Always alone."

"My wife, Christine, she…she is in Lourmarin now, staying at a cottage that I own. She needed time away from me because I asked her to send Lillian away. Not as a baby, but as a seven year old child. A child that grew up with both a mother and father," Raoul said somberly, running a hand over the shaved skin of his head. "I dream of her often, Anias…just as you dream of him, your Erik."

"Oh, Raoul…he is not mine. He used to be, years ago, but…but he blames me for many things. The death of our child, the murder of my late husband…all of it is my fault, alone. Yet I ensnared him in my problems, and he wished to appease me…oh, don't you wish you could turn back time? Don't you wish that you could undo the hatred in your lover's heart? That perhaps without that hatred living there, they could eventually forgive you, and perhaps love you again…do you not wish that for yourself?"

"I…I do," Raoul answered sadly. "I've been thinking – dreaming – of this idea, of running away with them. I've imagined myself riding there, all the way to Lourmarin, upon horseback…racing to the cottage like a knight in shining armor. I dream that she'd throw her arms around me, and my twins will come running, shouting out, 'Papa, papa!'…even Lillian, who said she hated me, right before they left by carriage. It was terrible, the hatred that I saw in her small, indignant face. I imagine that she forgives me upon seeing me…remembering all of the times when I was good, when I didn't neglect my family…" his voice broke, and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, flooding the crinkled lines that had formed out of stress and melancholy. "A time that has now faded in my mind, for I wished so badly to forget it."

"Interesting, isn't it?" Anias asked suddenly, sitting up slowly in the confines of the grove. "Both of our lovers – or perhaps, people we've hurt instead – are in Lourmarin, right now. We could go there, Raoul…you and me. We could go there and set everything straight. We could stop injecting this…this pleasure in-between our toes, everyday. We could be happy, again…truly happy…"

"I can't," Raoul whispered, a tear falling from his blurry, ocean eyes. "My mother made me promise to wait. She says Lillian won't be ostracized, that everything can go back to normal, if…if I stay with them until the end of summer. To attend the solstice ball."

"Do you trust her, your mother? Do you trust in her promise?"

Raoul bit the inside of his mouth, wiping a hand across his eyes. "No…I don't. But I fear that if I don't force myself to believe it, then I will lose all hope of my family being together again…"

"She's lying to you and you know it…but why keep your end of the bargain when you know her promises are empty? She gave you this…this beautiful, wondrous medicine that dulls our thoughts, our feelings…but why dull the senses? Why not let you go to them now, as a husband, a father…why not let you run back into their arms?"

Raoul sat up slowly, turning to look Anias in the eyes – she was ethereal, even with tiny bits of dirt and leaves tangled in the bun on her head. "You're saying I should go…against my mother's wishes? That I should leave this…this molten liquid of delirium behind…that I should go make my own truth?"

"Yes," Anias murmured, nodding to him softly. "You should go to them without warning, without question. Because that is something…something I wish I could do. But I cannot return to Lourmarin. I was threatened, first by Erik, my sweet Erik…and then by someone even more powerful. He is the one who carried out the murder, the one that I planned…the one that would take my degenerate, abusive husband and shove him down into the seventh circle of hell. He's a friend…a friend of Erik's. And he warned me never to return. A demon," she finished haughtily, her make believe wings fluttering upon her back.

Raoul sat frozen, his hands splayed in the dirt while the hedges cast a shadow over their hunched forms. "We could run away…my family and I. I could take all the money I have and run. I could save us, Anias…I could save my marriage, my life…for if I don't have my wife, or my children…then I truly am alone. And I cannot bear another minute of this lifeless, disgusting guise that my mother holds over me. I…I will go. I will go to them."

Anias reached out a hand, settling it upon his knee. "Go, my darling Raoul," she smiled, staring deeply into the blue of his eyes. "Go and find them. Do not tarry, do not wait…for your heart is in Lourmarin. I cannot change what I have done to the man that I love…but you, you can change the course of your future. No more lies, or morphine, or sadness…but instead, the love of a family unbridled by the wickedness of royalty."

Raoul stood up shakily, brushing his trousers with the palms of his hands. He gathered up the syringes and the tiny, labeled bottle, wrapping them into a leather satchel. He faltered for a moment, watching Anias carefully, looking for a crack in her porcelain smile. But all was genuine and true, with her…she had not lied to him. She had merely lifted his blindfold away from his eyes, allowing him to see.

"Thank you," he whispered, giving her a small, shy smile. "I shall never forget the time we spent together. And I will always consider you a friend, my dear Anias. For you were the light in the deepening darkness, where I could not even see. Thank you."

Anias shook her head, a tendril of dark hair falling against the side of her face. "Please do write to me…I wish to know what will happen…to you and your family. Send them all of my love, and…and do not forget that deep down, they all still love you. Very, very much."

Raoul turned away from her, a new and anxious feeling intertwining itself with the beating of his heart. He began to walk faster, and soon broke into a run – dodging between hedges and trees that reached up to touch the sky. His face broke out into a smile as he ran – they would not believe it, the way he would fly to them! Oh, how fast he would race upon horseback, how fast he would reach them! And his mother was just a diversion, something he could easily defy if he chose to. He knew where the safe was, hidden away in his father's study…and he knew the quiet clicks that would give way to its opening. He would take all the money he could possibly carry – enough to last them half a lifetime. Then he would take them somewhere far, far away…where the grey, cold fingers of his mother could not reach. He would hold Christine in his arms, again…he would run his hands through the thick curls that edged her pale face, he would kiss her, again and again, repeating a promise, a whisper within the shell of her ear…

I love you, I love you, I love you. And I shall never let you leave me again.

He clambered into the wide yard that belonged to the estate; the flowers pulled their heads to the sky, beckoning him with long, vine-like hands. Raoul flew up the stairs that were stone – a pathway that would bring him his greatest desire. He could not stop, he would not stop…even when he tore through the kitchen in the direction of the grand staircase. A shadow hovered, gliding in from the gloomy darkness of the parlor.

"Raoul, my darling…whatever are you doing?" the voice of his mother was like the devil; taunting and sneering, with invisible fangs that reached out to claim him, to drug him up further – to make him forget.

"Mother, I am going to Lourmarin. I'm going to see my family," he said firmly, squeezing the leather satchel in his hands to relieve himself of the terror she now desperately poured into his heart.

"It's the morphine, isn't it? It causes you to…sometimes feel grandiose, to feel like you can do the impossible. But dear, it's just a medication, really…and you are not well." Her voice was a thousand venomous snakes, crowding around him, flickering their forked tongues against his skin.

"You're wrong," he sputtered, stepping closer to her – nose to nose. He stared into her greying eyes, his confidence the strike of a match in utter darkness. "You're wrong about Christine…about Lillian, about everything! I won't stay here a minute longer. I cannot live in this…this death infested house! It's made of twisted midnight, and you are it's maker, mother! You are the devil, creating your own circle of hell that I will not be a part of any longer. I will not fall victim to your lies. I will not live the life that you wish for yourself…I will not throw away my family for…for a name, something made up, something that isn't even real! And your anger, mother…your bitterness eats you up like a disease. A disease that I wish to rid myself of…not just for a month, but for the rest of my life!"

Jezebel's mouth fell open slightly before forming into a thin line. "You do not know of what you speak," she murmured, her lips twisting to one side. "You are asking me to cast you out. Is this truly what you want, Raoul? To spend your days working in a field under a scorching sun…every single day until the day that you die?"

"It doesn't matter, mother. I will have Christine back. I will have my family back. A family that you've been trying to sever for a decade! I won't have it, not anymore. I wish to be free of this, this role! I wish to be free of you."

Jezebel stayed silent, pressing her hands together, her mouth slowly forming back into a façade of a smile. "Do as you wish," she replied coolly, turning away from him, casting half of her wrinkled face in shadow. "But do not come back to me, broken hearted when you find that she no longer wants anything to do with you."

"I shall never come crawling back to you, you…you monster! You made me hate myself when I was young. And I always thought that maybe, if I was better, if I listened to what you said – that you might actually love me! But now, I see the upside, I see the inner lining of who you are. And you will never know what love means, mother. And I feel sorry for you."

Raoul turned upon his heel sharply, forcing himself not to look back – for if he saw any weakness within her, any tears – he knew he would go back to comfort her, giving her another emotional foothold. But the years of a terrifying childhood reminded him that he must leave with every step forward; with every gouge and nick that was buried in the railing of the staircase. Slapping, hitting, slamming, mocking, lying. That's all she ever knew how to do. She did not know love, not even for herself.

But Christine had loved him. She had shown him what life could be if one simply were to open their heart, just a crack…with enough light that would burn through an eternal darkness…a flame that would wash away pain and suffering. A fire that would start his life over again, far away from the deception of royalty, titles, and the lifeless lies of a dying mother.

…

A/N: I know this was a bit of a cliffhanger, so forgive me for that ;) Please do leave any emotions, thoughts, and/or feedback for me. Every comment, no matter how big or small, makes my day. Love, L.