Finally.

Finally, after two whole years of patience on the part of my absolutely wonderful fans, I have updated 'Blessed'- and believe me, I am as excited as the rest of you~

I've already delayed you all enough, so here it is…!


c h a p t e r. 3. b l o s s o m

A dull, creeping soreness hugged Anita's body from the cold dark, her thoughts foggy and discordant.

The scents of rich sage and incense, of roses and ink had disappeared, leaving the stoic, empty musk of the old stone building in its wake. She felt herself shiver as she opened her eyes and groaned miserably, a watercolor haze of sunlight shining through the stained glass windows of the chapel, the stone face of Christ still- as he always was- looking piously down from her from his perch at the altar. It had suddenly hit her.

She had another encounter with that demon- Jedah, he had called himself -again, and he had enticed her with her own desires.. both of her mind, and of her body. Anita felt sick with the realization that she had been tempted, and so easily.

She had been weak. And yet..

Her eyes widened and filled with unshed tears with sudden realization, entangled within the turbulent memories of the previous night.

"…No."

Anita had been quick to rouse herself from her reverie upon waking up in the inhospitable chapel, pulling her tired body down the aisle by grasping the pews, bent over like an old woman as she passed. An hour later, she had bathed, dressed, and was packing what few precious possessions and money she had into her valise as quickly as she could. As cruel as it sounded even to her, she had to leave before any of the nuns woke up for breakfast and prayer; Surely, if she saw the kind women who had taken care of her as their own one last time, she would lose her resolve.

Resolve. It would be something she would be needing in abundance for the next few days.


Jedah returned back to his Makai palace; a heavy, dense entity weighing down upon his body. His chest throbbed with a dull ache, and he chuckled at the audacity of the beings stirring within his breast.

Donovan's soul, even as his body lay decaying and now residing within the bosom of the Dark Messiah still fought; still stung with indignation at being used against Anita the evening before. This weight, this sudden pain afflicting the Makai Lord now was the guardian's last efforts to dissuade Jedah.

A weak and pathetic attempt, to be sure.

The thought of coming to Anita in the Dhampir's form to seduce her to his will thrilled Jedah to no end- the trapped soul within him responded by giving the Dark Lord another fierce pang within his chest, as if to admonish him for his vulgarity. The effect, still, was anything but sobering to Jedah.

Let him fight, let all of the lost sheep struggle. They knew no better. But.

But.

Donovan, no matter how hard he tried, knew that it was too late for him to do anything about it- there was no returning to a body that had been paid in the price of death. Fetid or no, he was sure that the Dhampir would have tried regardless: Jedah had, indeed, cut down the weed of dissent before it it had grown completely out of control. Donovan must have surely realized by now that any backlash on his part was nothing more than a mere nuisance.

Regardless, the entire performance had been playing itself out beautifully, concert as it was: The White Knight, felled and relinquishing his fair, sunlit maiden into the wilds of the night, vulnerable and ravished by the dark and the woods. Raw-faced, swollen-lipped, she was unwittingly vulnerable… and leaving him the perfect moment to strike, once it presented itself. He was nearly saddened at the thought- these little preludes had become quite entertaining in the interim.

Jedah idly mused to himself; He was being rather poetic tonight.

Satisfied with this revelation, Jedah went to his bedchambers to retire, undressed and lay maddeningly cheerful within his bed, pleased with what progress he had been making and quickly took to a fitful sleep.

Donovan's essence stilled, and fought no more.

Exeunt.


Come mid-morning, a horrified cry resounded through the convent halls as a note was discovered posted to their beloved ward's door; a brief, apologetic explanation for her sudden departure, though in itself was still vague. The Mother Superior read it aloud, the entire congregation of nuns stunned by the news. They all wordlessly moved to clasp hands in prayer, their heads bent in a close, pious ring in the center of the hallway.

"Dear Father," the Mother Superior began. "Please watch over Your daughter as she makes her way, wherever she may be, for we all love her."

A murmur of agreement went through the circle.

"Please keep her strong as she ventures out alone into the world; the world from which she had come to us, broken and scared, all of those eleven years ago."

"But always, always have her know, Lord, that our child will always have a home and a family to love her, and guide her steps back to us should she ever need to do so." A sob had sounded within the group, and others quickly began to follow.

"Amen."


Anita had traveled the better part of the day, the sun reaching its white zenith above and melting down into a languidly warm afternoon. She had wandered with little direction, avoiding any chances of running into any adjacent towns, anywhere that innocent people would be. Anita knew as night fell, it would not matter- Jedah would inevitably come, clothed in the curtain of midnight, and demand that she make her choice. Though.. 'choice' wasn't exactly the way she would have put it.

She knew that either way, it would not matter; Either go with him willingly, or compel him to take her by force. Anita understood as much as she did that no mere mortal could go against the whims of a demon, and a demon lord at that. But better it be her, than countless innocent people, or her beloved convent- would they have noticed that she was gone already?

"Resolve," she chanted within her mind, over and over, as a monk would recite a sutra.

"Resolve, resolve, resolve.."

Suddenly, an idea had hit her, and getting a bearing for her surroundings, took off toward the northwest, praying that she could make it in time.


Anita had clutched her valise to her chest as she wandered through the port, knowing that she had been eyed suspiciously by the sailors as they waited for the ship to leave the dock. She had practically begged the porter to send her on the previous ship, even offering him extra money so as to let her on the already crowded vessel, as long as she was able to leave the mainland as soon as possible. He had gruffly apologized, and explained again that the next boat would be out late that evening.

Not soon enough, she had reminded herself with a note of panic as she watched another ship become a small dot on the horizon. "Besides lass," He had started with a note of amusement, "It is a bad omen to have women sailing on ships! Ye lucky the captain will be letting' ye on anyhow!" The nerve!

It was a desperate bid, but she had hoped that not only would she be away from any substantial amount of innocent people should Jedah indeed come from her in the night, she was frantic in the hope that the lore concerning a demon's inability to cross bodies of water were true. In any case, the more people she was separated from… come what may… the better.

When the porter had grown tired of watching her meander about the dock, he finally let Anita onboard to get settled in her room- a small cubby of a space -as long as she "minded herself and stayed out of trouble." She certainly had something to say for his trouble! Still, she was thankful to be out of that loud, filthy port. Fishing a book out of her bag, she attempted to read to pass the time, but found her mind inevitably wandering again.

Jedah obviously was threatened by her, and held her in high regard as he kept referring to her as if she were some sort of nobility: Your majesty. My lady.. Sovereign of the Mortals. But why?

With his insistence, his intensity and his obvious desperation to keep her intimidated, it was abundantly clear that she was… or would be.. a significant threat to him. Maybe he did not realize that she could not use her powers as readily as she had before? She looked intently out the porthole for something to manipulate- it had been so easy for her, as a child. She would lose her temper, and like heartbeat something was smashing itself against the floor, the walls, at people. Instantly, she eyed a small skiff, a man propped upward against the side with a fishing line in the water. His hat was placed over his face to shield from the sun, and was obviously asleep.

Pull the line, she willed, concentrating. Pull the line and wake him up.

Breathless moments passed. Her eyes had begun to hurt from the squinting.

Pull, pull, pull. You could lift bookshelves without batting an eye. This is nothing.

Anita soon felt herself become lightheaded and had to remember to breathe- her nails dug into her palms from how tightly fisted her hands were.

PULL ON THE LINE. WAKE HIM UP. NOW.

Frustrated, Anita finally exhaled and lay back down on the bed in a huff, and soon fell into an uneasy, anxious sleep. Whatever influence or power she could possibly have over her fate was long gone- and soon enough, she would be faced with the inevitable when that madman came for her.

Some people, she swore, had the absolute worst luck.


It was the damndest thing.

Old Ericson had the strangest story to tell at the pub that afternoon- After spending the morning fishing, he had dozed off and woken up to find that his entire pole had snapped clean in half. However, the fishing line was still attached, and when he pulled it up on the other end there was a monster of a marlin- it was just waiting there, tame as a tabby, as if asking him to haul it in. Even as they spoke, his wife was back home cleaning and cooking it up for him and his friends for a fine dinner, and they in turn ordered yet another round for everyone to celebrate.

Some people had all the luck.


Peonies.

Tiny, pearlescent buds tucked tenderly into dark, glossy curls. They were not unheard of in the Makai, but they were indeed rare- a charming oddity.

Somehow it seemed so important, at the time.

Arabesque music lilted overhead, through them, harmonizing with watery streams of lunar light from overhead. A ballroom. Hazy, soft unfurling of memory at the edge of subconscious.

No, no.. it had been a throne room. His father's, or that of Belial perhaps? He labored over the incomplete canvas within his mind- yes, a throne room; But he knew that there was a steady din and the sultry heat of bawdy festivities lay behind him. Certainly, it was not a gala thrown in the honor of his house; The Dohma household was known for far more subtle affairs. Indeed… the faint wisp of the smell of human women- captured to be seduced and fed upon later, no doubt -came to him through the smell of the rich feast, the glamour of dark magicks and bloodlust. He was surely standing in the vampire estate Zelzereitch, and the Maximoffs were throwing another one of their elaborate parties. A Feast of the Damned, as they always were.

Here and now, in the garden piazza, was deliciously cool and fragrant. He could smell the tiny flowers even from where he stood, a soft and feminine fragrance. They suited her quite well, in fact. …Her?

"They're lovely, aren't they?"

Words, soft and distant, said in a tongue not spoken to him in a very long time; The language of an archaic dialect spoken by only the nobility of Makai. Such parlance had not been lost on him, but the realization at how long he had not needed to use it- heard it -had stung him bitterly; The arts of the gentility had certainly been lost long before his time, it seemed.

A smooth, shapely arm gestured off to the side of the walled garden to a black, mossy reflecting pool spattered with floating lilies and their pads, dark shadows flitting beneath the still shapes on the water. He had idly grunted in reply to her query, walking toward the stately figure in the center of the garden. He suppressed the immense urge to take in the consortium of aroma around him once more- and her scent, to be exact. Such whimsical urges would certainly be deemed unbefitting of a Makai prince, though the youngest he may have been. He composed himself, and then spoke.

"There is a legend amongst some of the human tribes-"

She gasped, suddenly turning around to eye him aghast. "You've.. read mortal literature? You can understand their language?" He couldn't help but smirk at the innocent look on her face, walking forward until he was but an arm's width away, then turned back toward the water. "Indeed… I have, and I can. They believed that the moon was a living, breathing entity. A god. Every morning when the moon had sunk below the horizon to rest after a nightly vigil, he was returning to his court, and more specifically, to the company of his favorite maidens. It was said that if the moon could fall in love with one single maiden, he would turn her into one of the stars of the sky, to live together with him for all of time." At this, he looked down to catch her gazing upward at the moon, and the small curtain of stars that hung satellite around it.

"There was a princess who had heard of this, and wishing to be a star and gain the favor of the moon, would wait until the palace was asleep and steal away to follow the moon as he made his way across the sky every night. The handsome, impervious moon did not even notice the enamored princess, though her bitter crying could be heard all over the hills and the land every night as she sought his love, unrequited."

"One evening, the princess had chased the moon to a great, wide lake, and seeing him reflected on the water's surface, believed that her beloved had finally descended to the earth in order to receive her. Without a second thought she flung herself into the lake, and drowned as she looked for her love in vain."

The girl beside him inhaled softly, and he felt her grasp his arm as if begging for his reassurance. "Surely that cannot be the end of it? What a sad story.." He chuckled, then gently took her hand to drop a kiss onto it. "No, no my lady. Do not distress yourself, there is more."

"The moon soon heard of the desperate princess and her fate, and was heartbroken to know that she had died so mournfully in his name. He could not bring her back to her mortal life, but indeed turned her into a star- one as brilliant and beautiful as any of the others of the sky, but to be as different and loved by any and all who would see her." He gestured toward the pool once more, at the milky-white lilies as they opened upward toward the silent moon. "An earthbound star; In this way, they were married to forever be as one. She would open up her fragrant blossoms every night to gaze upward at him, and he down at her; and in the morning she would go to rest and turn as pink as the dawn until the next night where she could once again be with her love, never to be spurned again."

The look on her face as he finished was magnificent. She had leaned breathlessly forward, when a beautiful smile spread over her face, alighting her eyes. Despite his best efforts, he felt tremulous warmth break through him, his facade. "Please, Milord. I must know your name." She sank into a deep curtsey, and the skirts of her elaborate gown pooled about her as if she were a delicate lily in her own right. She gazed upward at him, and his heart stilled at the at the obvious happenstance. It was fate, he knew.

"But my dear lady, why would you want to be associated with the likes of demons who read forbidden literature from the human realm? Wandering away from one of the illustrious Maximoff feasts where there is extravagance and humans to be had, to tell silly stories of the futility of love?" She smiled- she had been clever enough to know that he had been teasing her.

"Futility, my lord?" She laughed lightly, and gently took his offered hand to help her stand back up. "It was not with the passion of futility that spurned you to tell the tale. I am more than sure." Her gaze softened, as did her smile. "Milord.. You are much different than the others. You may speak of this party and the rare pleasures to be had therein.. But I can tell that they do little to interest you."

He gave her a magnificent bow. "You are quite perceptive, my lady."

"No. I am Ophelia, of the house of Bahretal."

He smiled and stood back upright, and then lowering his face into her fragrant hair, kissing right beside the white flowers as if planting another radiant bud within her sable curls. He then gently cradled her into his arms and kissed delicately beside her ear as she gasped softly in surprise.

"I know, dearest moon."

Jedah shuddered awake in his bed. It had been a story told and retold to him many, many times; His father had always recalled fondly the night he had begun courting his mother.


Author's Notes:

I really, really feel like an awful person for having not updating this since 2007.. And even then, people still have been emailing and messaging me asking if I were to continue.. But I must give gratitude to a few people who I really wanted to come back, so this one is for you:

First and foremost, my awesome and patient boyfriend Edward, who I have had sit down and read my stories countless times, and to which I am really grateful, because he is probably sick of me forcing him to read/write/review my work. I love you, baby!

Glass- Really, reading your review made me smile like no other. I love the thought that writing not only stimulates a person emotionally, but physically as well (no pun intended, haha)! I really hope that this new chapter makes you happy as much as it made me.

The Pen Calls- Seriously, I think you had hit right on the head why I have such an attraction to Jedah and Anita as a couple. On one hand, it is a pretty crack pairing, but on the other gives one SO many different naughty little ideas to try, no? I hope you enjoy this new one!

Lobsil Vith- Hahaha, first I was pretty stoked that you had a Silent Hill mythos sn, but reading that I "mushed" your brain made me ludicrously happy. I hope that taking so awfully long to update hasn't turned you off to reading more- hope you enjoyed it!

Shortchannel4- and especially, to you my very first reviewer, I want to thank you. It is not every day that I read that my writing is flawless, and it was such a beautifully flattering thing to read and I thank you. Please do come back?

And to all of my honored newcomers:

Please, please, please do not let me think that I have updated for the first time in years in vain- I am terrified that this has indeed become a dead story to other readers, and I'll appreciate any reviews to tell me otherwise! Hearing your comments and feedback is this story's lifeblood, and any reviews keep me going.

Thank you once again everybody.. And I'm back!!

Much love,

endless+amber+skies