Elizabeth didn't kid herself.
Rowena only came back to The Trading Post, to her, because she was useful. For as old a witch as Rowena was, her manipulation was transparent. She probably thought she was very clever, fooling Elizabeth so easily. Elizabeth wasn't fooled by her.
No, Elizabeth saw what Rowena was doing, who she was. She could read her intentions, her deceit. She was selfish, and prideful, and vengeful, and cruel.
Rowena knew those things about herself, too. They were clearly some of her favorite things about herself, which in turn made Elizabeth smile in amusement, because it was so rare for her to meet someone who really loved themselves as deeply as Rowena loved herself.
Rowena had good qualities, too, of course. She was incredibly smart, both a skilled witch and a clever one. She appreciated power, and knowledge, and beauty, and strived to embody those things in herself.
Elizabeth loved all of those things about her, but found she loved the 'flaws' the most. Yes, she loved watching her lover show off a new gown, or effortlessly perform some complex bit of magic, but the moments she lived for were when Rowena paced the room, back straight and eyes sharp as knives, talking passionately about the precise, gory ways she intended to undo her enemies.
Elizabeth would let her rant, spellbound by the power and beauty of her wrath, and then she would take her to bed, trying to get a taste of that fury, that passion.
Rowena was happy to take advantage of the situation, though at times she seemed surprised by how much Elizabeth was willing to do for her. Pleasantly surprised, but surprised nonetheless.
Elizabeth guessed it was because she was used to relying on her looks, or her charm. To acknowledge that Elizabeth was simply in love with her would force Rowena to think about the sort of emotions she'd been running from for centuries.
And that was fine with Elizabeth. She would take Rowena's pleasantly surprised glances, and furrowed brows, and small frowns, and she would expect nothing else. Rowena would never truly understand, would never love her back. Elizabeth didn't think the woman was capable of such a thing, not anymore.
Elizabeth didn't need her love. Her company was enough.
"Darling?"
Elizabeth smiled and huffed under her breath, then turned to face Rowena with a raised eyebrow. The other woman only ever called her such things when she wanted something, and when she turned she saw that Rowena was smiling her most charming smile. Elizabeth also noted, suspiciously, that she was dressed in a gorgeous green gown that hugged her curves exquisitely made her eyes pop.
"What can I do for you, my love?"
Elizabeth still took pleasure in the brief confusion that flickered in her eyes. She knew Rowena thought she was smart, a good witch if obnoxiously principled. She couldn't understand Elizabeth's feelings, or why she would let Rowena take advantage of her the way she did.
Rowena's smile dimmed, just a watt, just for a second, then returned to full power. "I require an ingredient for a spell."
Elizabeth tilted her head, brow furrowed. "You know my stores are open to you." They had been for some months now, and Rowena had taken full, enthusiastic advantage.
"Ah, yes, well." Rowena smoothed her dress over her hips, and Elizabeth's eyes automatically followed the movement. "You don't have this one in stock."
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. There was only reason she wouldn't have something in stock, and that was darkness. While Elizabeth bought and sold some shady ingredients with dubious uses, she absolutely never peddled body parts which had been taken from living humans. She didn't accept them as payment, either.
Still, she asked, "What do you need?"
Rowena hemmed. "Just a heart, dear."
"A human heart," Elizabeth said flatly.
"A witch's heart," Rowena countered, as if Elizabeth would care about the distinction.
"You know I don't carry such things," Elizabeth said, irritated, then sighed. "I could look through my register, maybe find someone else who would deal with you—"
"No, dear," Rowena said gently, sweeping closer. "I need the heart from you, dear."
Elizabeth stared, confused, for a long moment, before it dawned on her that Rowena was not asking for Elizabeth to sell her a heart, but to give her own. And not in the romantic sense that Elizabeth might have been on board with, but in the very real, literal sense.
"Absolutely not." The words weren't firm, like Elizabeth intended, but more a gasp.
Elizabeth knew Rowena, of course. She knew she was selfish, and cruel. But she didn't think she was this selfish and cruel. She knew Rowena would never love her, but she thought she at least had enough respect for her, enough meager affection in her twisted heart, that she wouldn't ask her for something like this.
For her heart. For her life.
"Elizabeth," Rowena cooed. Elizabeth felt sick. "Darling. I thought you loved me?"
"You know that I do." Elizabeth's voice was hoarse.
Rowena 'tsk'ed. "Then won't you do this for me? Your love?" She reached out and cupped her hands around Elizabeth's face. She was so, so beautiful. "Wouldn't you die for me?"
A tear slipped out of Elizabeth's eye. Rowena wiped it away. "Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. I need you. Please?"
For a moment, Elizabeth was tempted. Rowena had metaphorically carved her heart out. Why not finish the job?
Then Elizabeth laughed, hoarsely. "It has to be willingly given, doesn't it?" Rowena said nothing, and Elizabeth backed away, jerking her face out of Rowena's hands. "Would we even be having this conversation, if it didn't?
Rowena's eyes widened, and she let out an offended huff of breath. But it was an act, and they both knew it. If Rowena didn't need her consent, she'd have carved Elizabeth's heart out already.
And Elizabeth was weak, for loving Rowena. Weak, for letting the woman take advantage of her. But she wasn't weak enough for that.
Elizabeth turned away and cradled her face in her hands. She didn't want to look at her anymore, see how little she cared. "Get your things and get out," she whispered, voice cracking.
"Elizabeth, darling..."
Elizabeth loved that voice. Loved the way Rowena said her name. And that was dangerous, so Elizabeth did something she'd never done before.
"Rowena MacLeod, I hereby ban thee from The Trading Post," she croaked. "You're not welcome here. You have five minutes to get out."
Rowena cursed her. She shouted and screamed, in English and Gaelic and a number of other languages. But she also packed her few things, and left before Elizabeth's banishment spell could take effect and send her away.
The bell on the door to the shop chimed merrily as Rowena swept out and slammed the door behind her.