Thanks to all my betas who contributed in different ways: lovingyouisbest, JD Bell; Joy Booth and Fredrica.
Final tweaking is my own.
Mystify me
MA fantasy stuff
The day transformed Lizzy and Darcy's thoughts into greater but vague ideas about their future. Lizzy found herself nearly shaking with the energy that came from further work on her dream. It carried her through the mid day studio time. At the mid afternoon hike she walked of the buzz and during respite, sketched. Darcy was not present at dinner nor at evening meditation. His absence was a disappointment but she found an inner fullness that allowed for their divergence.
After the morning workshop, he knew the inevitable had finally caught up to him. "Aunt Catalina what can I do for you?
It's what I want you not to do…I've seen how you look at that young artist, Elizabeth. I know what that painting of hers meant. I could tell. You're no better. I'll have you know, regardless of your notion that I run an establishment for hacks, we are a licensed facility. Might I remind you that I am not only a well respected artist but also a renowned healer with credentials to consider? And many of my other employees are, as well. Some of the people are here for therapy, not just to paint a pretty picture.
I know it has never before been a problem for you to ward off the guest advances but this young woman is just your type, and you seem to have a history. Collins would have me believe your intentions aren't platonic. So before you go doing anything stupid, remember what happened to Wickham when he came here as a chef and I found out he'd been canoodling.
Not that you really care about this gig, but think about Rosings reputation before you go and ruin it by your activities with a guest. Someone here would find out and the papers would have a field day." She gave him a pointed look.
"I'll keep that in mind." Darcy growled. Retreating to his personal quarters, Darcy took brush to canvas in a vain effort to exorcise his desires. The energy that had been inspiring him now felt like it was burning through is body. He had to do something about it. That something was not available to him at this time, Darcy grudgingly reminded himself. He continued through lunch and dinner, snacking on salami, cheese, chocolate and fruit from his personal stash. When the painting had come to a place that needed conclusion for the moment, Darcy looked at the clock, and was shocked to find it was about one in the morning.
He felt he could stay awake all night and would have done so if there weren't responsibilities that meant he had to be up and awake at 6. Knowing this, Darcy took some zolpidem tartrate and slowly fell into Morpheus's arms.
Darcy dreamed that he crossed a river and began wandering a maze. When he got to its center, there was Lizzy lying on a palatial bed covered in bright silks that draped the bed and hung from the ceiling, reminiscent of Indian Royalty. She appeared not to be sleeping normally but as if in a death-like trance, as she lay pale, barely breathing.
She was adorned in a fine costume like a Princess from the Ancient East. Was she laid out for a religious service? Burial? Initiation? All three? Something More?
Above her, colored lights seem to tinkle like magical bells, while they grew and morphed into otherworldly apparitions.
The gossamer wraiths took a knowing tone.
An unnamed power possessed Darcy, propelled him forward. He felt a warmth, a swelling in his breast. Before him he could only see what appeared to be the brightest light, but a solid, heavy, golden sort of light that hung about in orbs, projected right through his being in sunlight beams. He never wanted to leave this unbearable, heavenly sense of peace and of being engulfed by the love of some great Consciousness.
That same Source was propelling him ever toward Lizzy who seemed to also be lit from within. As he moved forward, the silks covering her bed turned from vibrant hues to vast, ancient tree that seemed to pull her deeper in its trunk's depths, surrounding her with moss, bark and branches, obscuring her until she looked like a ghastly green woman of indecipherable age, covered in lichen scales, her hair green with moss, the tips of her toes and fingers growing into the tree. Release her Darcy found himself uttering.
He then noticed carvings the tree. Its language spoke. What This is, You Will Be. On his left was a primitive but recognizable outline of a butterfly. On the right was a red triangle pointed upward. He put is hand on it and he found an arrow in his grasp. It trained his eye toward the treetops' branches, which intertwined, forming a gabled, elf-like appearance.
What it is, you too will be, Darcy spoke, as if he were reading it from the image before him. He was propelled to move through the dense growth, swiping away the foliage with the arrow –become- sword as he strode toward that hideously beautiful bower. He was about to tear into it when he heard the primordial deep groaning of the tree rending. As it did so, small winged creatures fluttered out of the foliage, disturbed from their rest, their noises repeating the phrase.
What it is, you two will be Darcy found himself saying again and again, repeating it as the branches and loam pulled away, revealing his beloved who was in a deep sleep. She appeared to have been thus for years, as she was covered in cobwebs, her nails long and hair became part of the viney growth and wildflowers that sprouted around her. He moved to straddle Lizzy without putting any weight on her, his fingers entwining in her curls.
He continued to repeat that phrase into her lips. His words became a communication of all the corporeal ways he wanted to animate her with his passion. As he did so, Darcy's member moved between her now slick thighs, tantalizing Lizzy's clit, rubbing against her folds, and she was just Lizzy again. The dream spell worked.
Darcy now found that he was whispering the incantation in a very dark room, a normal room. He was on a regular bed, kissing a very real and very awake Lizzy who was kissing him back. Her lips whispered their own secrets into his lips. They were in her room. At the Spa. The one where his Aunt told him not to do this.
I am the flame, you are the blood
MA cont'd
He must have been under the influence of his sleeping pills. These thoughts rushed through Darcy's mind even as he continued to kiss Lizzy, unwilling to stop, damn the consequences. No, he was unable to stop. Darcy did pull away ever so slightly and said between kisses- "I suppose this was a surprise."
"It does not follow it was an unwelcome one." Lizzy arched her brow. "I take it you are fully awake now- body AND mind? Shall we continue?" she asked with a beckoning smile. "Don't ask, just go with it- then talk." Lizzy said between luscious, probing kisses. "Is that OK with you?"
"When you put it like that, how can I refuse?"
"You are utterly bewitching when you sleep seduce me. I'm so turned on I couldn't stop if I tried." Lizzy admitted. They both continued to converse between kisses. "Enough talk. Let's _... "she said with a quirk of her eyebrow. "I want you inside me." She turned over, knelt and offered herself to him as Darcy plunged into her, his pelvis thrusting into her feminine depths as it repeatedly smacked against her delectable derriere.
Lizzy felt his tip hitting against her cervix, causing pleasure deep within, as his length slid back and forth against her core and her folds, sending vibrations of climax after climax moving ever toward release. Lizzy's clit was aching and she rubbed herself as Darcy continued his assault, varying rhythm from tantalizingly slow to a pounding speed that took her breath away.
He seemed to move within her for hours, and for hours she felt convulsions of release wax and wane but never fully go away or release. Finally he cried out and exploded into her and she felt the ultimate release.
Afterward, Lizzy was wide awake, set fully alive, fully embodied in her beauty, fully inhabiting her unique talents- it was as if someone had lit a fire inside her. And someone did.
That morning Lizzy prepared herself like any other day, putting on makeup, adding some last minute polish to her curls and smoothing her sheer, creamy cotton vintage sleeveless tunic and jeans, Lizzy stepped into the morning sun. As she sat with the others outside by the creek, eating a surprisingly delicious paleo* breakfast, Lizzy contemplated if she was ready to face him.
Upon entering the airy studio, Lizzy became immediately relaxed as she gazed out at the view of Oak Creek and the red rocks. Lizzy warred within herself between declaring her love or continuing to leave her feelings unspoken. After all, who knows when I will see him after this week is over… Lizzy then noticed the workshop leader in the studio… wasn't Darcy. How very vexing. Now what?
As if in answer to her inner question, the workshop leader spoke: "Everyone, for this session, we are going on a field trip. It is well known place, but I suggest you focus on your awareness and I will leave you to experience what you will…."
After a short drive and hike, Lizzy and the other participants were rewarded with a magical sight: Nestled in Oak Creek with the vision of Cathedral Rock* before her, Lizzy saw hundreds of columns varying in height, made of river rocks and red rocks stacked, one on another. Some were clearly hundreds of pounds in size while others were mere pebbles.
Lizzy felt light and airy as Ina called everyone to their centering meditation exercise. Upon concluding her meditation, Lizzy opened her eyes, seeing before her unfocused vision innumerable tiny dots, waves and bursts. She thought she could glimpse darting twinkles of light as well and remembered Ina's instructions.
Inwardly she asked herself what to do… without thought something inside her began to speak to the swirling energies: Whatever you are- imagination or not- do you have anything to say to me?
She opened her journal writing and sketching to catch a drops of ideas the torrent moving in her mind. They came drop by drop as each moment built upon the other under a canopy of cottonwoods and aspen, amongst the fairy rocks as Lizzy now thought of them. Lines she was sketching became a series of women clothed in neo classical diaphanous garments, in the end considering their clear resemblance to Botticelli's Rites of Spring. The picture, however, was from a different perspective, as if she were in the lineup of subjects looking to her right and left. The women, too, had a less homogenous appearance and instead took on all shapes, sizes, ages and in some cases hardly looked the classical version of 'feminine' at all. Still they al kept the neoclassical spirit. It reminded her of the television show Rome, which depicted the classical world in its gritty, diverse glory.
She had been so consumed in her sketches that hours passed and the time had come to return to Rosings. After a hasty lunch she journaled more about the sketches that sprang forth so readily. Lizzy looked up that Botticelli painting and was drawn to Voluptas, especially. She couldn't place why, instead seeking to free flow the words that came to her in her journal, working outside of a sense of time, yet again until she heard the dinner announcement.
Lizzy couldn't help the sharp pang of disappointment that tore through her when she received news that Darcy left abruptly that morning. She'd assumed he was still around, even looked forward to what she felt was a certain sign they were to continue what had started last night.
* Oak Creek/Cathedral Rock- one of the scenes for which Sedona is famous:
www dot 360 cities dot net /image/oak-creek-with-cathedral-rock-near-sedona-az-arizona#0.00,0.00,70.0
Try to be more romantic
"Well, fancy hearing from you, after all these weeks, you bastard."
"The phone works both ways, Charles." Darcy drawled.
"Ah, but I was quite occupied with a beautiful Bennet, what's your excuse? More of the same, I hope?" Charles's tone of voice was that of a smug, well satisfied man.
"I'd really like to talk about it in person if it's all the same to you." Darcy grunted.
"Does that mean you got laid?" Charles asked his friend.
Darcy hoped his friend could sense him rolling his eyes. "I won't be telling you that even when we do get together so don't try."
Charles wasn't fooled by Darcy's bark, but he let it pass. "That means you did! You sly dog! Although it is incumbent upon me as her sister's boyfriend to tell you I'll kill you if you hurt her."
"Sounds like you're taking things very seriously then, at least as seriously as you can." Charles deserved to be needled back, Darcy groused, inwardly.
"When do you want to get together, man?" Charles called his friend back to the subject at hand.
And so, arrangements were made to meet. And at the meeting, arrangements were made for certain hopeful eventualities.
Several days later….
"My brother! It is good to see you." William hugged his little brother fiercely, causing Jorge to yelp.
"Stop! I can't breathe! You're going to injure me."
"Sounds like you could use some roughing up." Darcy made to muss his brother's well coifed mane.
Jorge pushed his brother away, "What are you talking about? I'm your delicate baby brother. Besides, you'll mess up my hair."
Darcy held his hands up, shaking his head. "Alright, geez!" And then he grabbed his brother and pulled him into another hug.
When they pulled away, Jorge asked, "So, tell me more about what that asshole did now, and how I can help."
Wonder what the Darcy men have up their sleeves?