The Consort's Fate

Chapter 12

His eyes dance between the two humans, not a trace of emotion across his soft features. I know he feels my gaze on him. His lips tense in an effort to avoid it, but eventually his baser instincts take over. He caves, swinging his gaze to meet mine from across the room.

Once again, time plays its hand and suspends the moment in its grasp.

I have done well to keep my thoughts and minimal emotions intact. I have refused to let Finn see past the mask of indifference. Yet in this moment, I decide to build our first memory. Holding his gaze, I drop the steel wall surrounding my being.

I know the second he senses my emotions. His eyes widen a fraction, and his lips part ever so slightly. The reaction reminds me of him as a human. A grin tugs at the edges of my mouth. The only thing missing is his blush.

Time watches with rapt attention as the seconds suffocate under the pressure of delay. Eventually it bends, and the seconds rush into minutes as Finn severs the connection. Reluctantly, I pull the steel cage around my emotions once again. A small frown creases his brow as he makes sense of it all, and I allow him to work out the details in peace.

I knew when Finn made his self-sacrifice that he would not remember me, but I promised myself I would be the one to carry our memories and our story, fighting for him in the shadows for years to come. We may no longer be in the shadows, but the promise remains. I will continue to fight. He has seen a glimpse.

Now, caught in the clutches of time, I wait.

__________________

Kelly tunes the dusty ukulele and strums it once, then twice. Douglas warns him to keep quiet, just as he has for the past three nights. The fire in the hearth crackles in agreement. In response, Kelly rolls his eyes and strums louder...just as he has for the past three nights. A small suspicion tugs at the back of my mind, wondering if Tegan planted the barely usable ukulele in this deserted hovel for Kelly to find.

Before the war, Kelly's love for music was rivaled only by his love for Fiona. While I cannot say I am particularly fond of the constant strumming and humming, he now has one of his loves back in his life. The result has sparked life back into his troubled eyes.

Kelly finishes another song, holding out the final note as an easy smile slips into place. He glances across the room to where Finn is sitting, clearly enraptured with the performance.

"You like that one, Finn?" Kelly asks, his tone soft and full of brotherly affection.

Finn nods a single time. "What's it called?"

Kelly's grin turns wistful. "Horseshoes and Hairpins." There's a beat of silence and then Kelly adds, "it used to be one of your favorites."

Finn's eyes flit over to me, as if seeking my confirmation to this statement. I respond with a barely perceptible nod. He holds my gaze a moment longer before turning back to Kelly.

"Tell me a memory," he says to Kelly.

The silence that follows his request is deafening. It is a silence filled with both fear and hope. The flickering fire dances continues its dance, casting a gentle glow against the pale contours of Finn's face. Kelly shifts his position and mindlessly strums at his instrument. He stares at the ceiling, searching for the right answer in the peeling paint above him.

"It's not a specific memory," he starts slowly. "But a collection of them. Whether it was good days or bad, you were there, Finn. We were best buds. You always told me you wished you could be more like me, but you never saw yourself for the shining star you were. You were a sensitive soul."

He pauses and grins again. This time, sadness bleeds into his tone when he continues.

"I always teased you about how emotional you were. The way you'd make mountains out of molehills. But the truth is, it was one of my favorite things about you. Your soft heart taught me how to love better. How to push myself to try harder with others."

Kelly swallows hard and his voice softens to a whisper. "I never got a chance to tell you that. Never got a chance to tell you so many things before..."

We all fill in the rest of his words in the recesses of our thoughts. In Kelly's mind, while Finn's physical form is here, the humanity of his best friend is still dying across the stone floors of the fortress.

"Well, you're telling me now." Finn's voice embodies the harsh immortal he is, but there is a hint of compassion that gives me pause. "Besides, if I was as emotional as you say, the sentiment would have likely brought me to tears anyway. It's probably best you waited until now."

His self-deprecating humor lightens the mood. Kelly barks out a throaty laugh, and his strums are brought back to life. The ruckus ruffles Douglas' feathers. He shoots an annoyed glance in Kelly's direction before getting up and heading towards the kitchen. Kelly takes it as a challenge. His smirk takes on a wolfish gleam. He howls out a note, strums louder, and rolls off the couch to follow a step behind the poised guard.

Their footsteps clatter down the hallway, and once again, the familiar crackling of fire resumes its role of filling the void. I stare at the flames, and unwanted memories cloud my mind. The flames of the fortress. Of humans and vampires alike approaching death's door as the serum worked its way through their veins. So much ruin. So much pain.

Finn shifts from the other side of the couch, pulling me from the shadows. His gaze pins me in place, and time holds its breath as it waits. As I wait.

"And you?" Finn whispers. "What memory will you share with me?"

The intensity of memories that trail his question is so devastating that an ache blooms in my chest and spreads to my lungs. I cannot share that he was my consort. I cannot share his love for me. I cannot share the moments of our intimacy, the ones that he so willingly carried on his sleeve while I hastily stowed them away for safekeeping.

"Corn muffins," I say.

Finn raises a brow, and I close my eyes, pulling the faint memory back into existence.

"The war was getting worse. It was leaving behind death and annihilation with every touch of its selfish talons," I explain. "We were on the run, and you...you were lost. Broken. I did not know how to bring you normalcy. I did not know how to help. Of course, I never asked. I just tried to find something that would bring you happiness. That something was a box of corn muffins. I hunted down the ingredients and began the miserable task bringing them to an edible state."

Finn chuckles lightly, the sound both delicate and enthralling.

"You walked into the kitchen, took one look at my meager attempt, and offered to help," I conclude, opening my eyes. "And so there we were. Two lost souls hidden in the clutches of war, finding a moment of peace is a rundown kitchen. All in the name of corn muffins."

My story is met with silence. His eyes dance down my face, searching for the answers to questions he's still not ready to ask.

"And how did they turn out?" he asks eventually.

I frown, trying to think back on the grainy concoction, before answering honestly, "you know, I have no idea."

Some time during my story, his hand founds its way closer to mine. I do not dare move or glance at the change, but I see it from the corner of my eye. I let the silence swallow me whole as his hand moves closer still. The coolness of his finger gently brushes against mine, but the moment is stolen away from us in a startling halt.

A loud bang erupts from the front of the house. The door swings open, and a bloodied body falls through the threshold. A chilling, foreboding wind follows in its wake, rattling the walls around us. Finn jolts to a stand before gasping out a breath of disbelief.

"Tegan?"

"Please," she whispers, reaching a hand in our general direction. "Help."