Within Pt. 04

She gripped the knob and turned it slowly, took another breath and then shoved it open. The hinges creaked softly. She blinked back new tears as the desk came into view. Dust motes danced in the sunlight streaming through the curtains behind the desk. She stepped inside slowly, waiting for the onslaught of pain that had engulfed her the last time she had tried to go in that room.

It didn't come. Instead there was a dull ache in her chest but it was no where near as bad as it had been in the past.

She moved farther into the room, carefully avoiding looking at the framed pictures scattered among the lines of books on the book cases. She was there for a reason, not to test how much she'd healed.

"Where should I start?" She glanced around quickly considering. "Notebooks."

She moved around the desk, sneezed as the dust she'd kicked up hit her in the face. Her hands pulled open drawers till she found the right one. It was stuffed full of notebooks. John had always kept detailed notes of his research. As she lifted the first one out to place it on the desk her gaze fell on the framed picture he'd kept close to the monitor.

It had been taken on their honeymoon in Scotland. There was a ruin of a castle in the background, which one she couldn't remember if a person paid her, there'd been so many castles to see on that trip. In it they were the smiling happy picture of potential. Two people excited to start their married life, eager to grow old together.

She wiped her eyes quickly and pulled out another notebook. Once the drawer was empty she scooped the books into her arms and moved around the desk.

Her eyes glanced at the bookcase as she passed it. A little pang of pride spread through her chest under the ache that was making it hard for her to take a full breath.

When they'd moved in she'd insisted that the books bearing his name be placed on their own shelf, separate from the others. To remind him of what he'd accomplished and to give him something to strive for. There were only five books between the bookends. His goal had been to fill the rest of the shelf.

She used to come in there to read them again and again, curled up in the over sized wingback chair by the desk. It had never mattered to her that he was busy creating other worlds and getting lost in them. They'd fit together so well that it felt right just to be in the same room with each other.

She stopped in the doorway suddenly reluctant to leave. "John." She turned back. "I don't know if you can hear me. I don't know if I even believe in this sort of thing. But if you can, I really need your help. You probably know what's been happening and why I want to figure this out." She swallowed tears gathering in her throat. "I'd like to get a little justice for one of you." She looked around once more and then closed the door.

**************************

Alasdair found her curled up on the sofa, surrounded by handwritten notebooks and balled up tissues, sound asleep. The spell twisted through his limbs painfully. In his mind he shoved back at it hard.

"Lass." He squatted down next to her and brushed her hair away from her face.

"I can't find it," she mumbled, "You said it was there but I can't see it."

"Isabelle," Alasdair said softly, "you have to wake up."

Her face screwed up in a frown. "You don't understand. Why can't I find it? He said it was there."

"Who lass?"

Her eyes opened, she squinted up at him. "Alasdair? Did I fall asleep?" She sat up, catching the book that had been resting on her chest as it slid down.

"Have you been searching all day?"

"Most of it yes." She frowned again. "I don't think I've found anything."


"You said he told you the answer was here. Did you mean in these books?" She nodded.

"I was just dreaming. Probably just wishful thinking." She looked at him. "We should go upstairs."

He stood and held out his hand to help her stand. She stepped around the books gingerly.

"Where did all of these come from?" he asked softly.

She looked down at the floor and the books spread in front of the sofa. "They were my husband's."

"Why would he have information on spells?" His voice was strained.

She looked at him quickly, sweat dotted his brow, damp strands of hair clung to his neck. "We don't have time for this right now." She took his hand. "Come on."

They made it half way up the stairs before he had to stop. He pulled at her hand.

"Lass, I—"

She turned to him. He was bent over, his free hand a heavy fist pressed against his bent leg.

"Oh god." She knelt on the stairs and yanked her yoga pants down to her knees. He moved behind her, pulled his plaid out of the way and shoved himself into her. She was not at all ready for him that time and had to bit her lip to stifle a cry of pain. He stopped and reached for her hand where she was gripping the carpeted stair.

"Stars lass, I'm so sorry." He could barely get the words out.

She took a deep breath. "It's okay."

"I've hurt you," he said softly, his voice filled with pain.

"Not your fault," she whispered. He squeezed her hand and slowly pulled his hips back. Her breath escaped in a little sob.

"Isabelle."

She shook her head. "Don't stop."

He pushed back at the scorching pain in his chest, hating that he'd been forced to hurt her. She tried to push back into his lap but he moved with her.

"Lass wait." His hand slid from where it was holding her hip to between her thighs, finding her little hot button. Her hips bucked as he circled it with shaking fingers. "I will not let it make me inflict more pain on you." She nodded, too focused on what his fingers were doing to speak.

Within moments he felt the change in her body. Her back arched, her head fell forward and most importantly her sheath grew slippery. A few short strokes and he was able to glide into her without causing pain for either of them. She lifted her head as he lengthened his thrusts. He knew what she was seeking and leaned over her back. She looked over her shoulder and brushed her lips against his.

"Better," she whispered. He groaned as she pushed back against him.

The hand that had been covering hers moved to her hip to pull her into his thrusts. It wasn't long till her body shuddered under him, the spasms gripping his hardness urging him to find his own release. He did so quickly, moaning his pleasure against her lips.

They stayed together, crammed against the stairs for several long minutes letting their heartbeats settle, catching their breath.

"Lass," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. I should not have waited as long as I did."

"It's okay." She pressed her hand against where he still held her hip. "I guess I was a little distracted so I wasn't as ready as I have been."

"By the search, yes."

"I haven't given up it that's what that tone was about."

"I'm angry, for what it made me do to you." He straightened, withdrawing from her. She winced slightly.

"You didn't do anything. It was the spell." She yanked her pants back into place and turned to sit on the stair. "Alasdair, I know you. You would never do that to a woman if you had a choice." She reached up to cup his cheek. "We could have just stayed in the living room. I just couldn't...not with John's work around us."

His hand pressed her palm against his cheek. "Do you still love him?"

"Of course. Don't you still love your mate?"

He smiled sadly. "It wasn't a love match."

"What?"

"Our pairing helped my mother secure her throne. It is not uncommon among royalty."

She looked into his eyes. "You haven't even had a chance to fall in love." She leaned forward to wrap her arms around him, tucking her face against his hair. "She took everything from you."

Not everything. He thought with a little smile.

He pulled her close relishing the feeling of her body against his. She clung to him as he stood and set her on her feet.

"You should take advantage of our reprieve to wash up," he said with a smile.

"I suppose I'm covered in dust." She wiped her cheeks. "Do you want to come with me?"

"We both know you won't get anything clean if I'm in there too."

"True, your gigantic wings block the water." She turned to walk up the stairs.

"I thought you liked my wings." He frowned at her swaying backside. She reached the top and turned back to him.

"Well, actually...they're a bit...freakishly huge." She smirked and then let out a shriek as he bounded up the stairs after her. She ran down the hall to her bedroom laughing. He caught her just inside the doorway, hooking an arm around her midsection and pulling her onto the bed with him, making sure she landed on top.

"You shouldn't tease me woman." He nuzzled her neck. She giggled breathlessly, squirming against his chest.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I love them. I swear."

"I don't believe you," he growled, playfully biting her shoulder.

"No, I promise, they're perfect. I wish I had my own."

"You want to be faerie?" He let her slide from his chest.

She turned on her side to look at him. "To be able to fly must be incredible."

"It isn't terrible, except during thunderstorms." Her eyes went wide. "Very dangerous."

"I hadn't thought of that. Maybe I'm safer on the ground." She sat up. "Come shower with me. That damned spell is going to do it's thing soon and I'd rather not have you picking me up while I have shampoo in my hair again."

"That potion is vile," he grumbled.

"Agreed. I should have warned you about getting it in your eyes."

He shuddered remembering the stinging pain. "I thought you'd blinded me."

"I know and again, I'm very sorry." She looked down at him. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"Perhaps."

"Would ice cream help sway you?"

"Strawberry?"

"Nope this one is even better. Dark chocolate truffle whiskey and I promise it'll make you weak in the knees." She winked at him, stood and held out her hand.

*******************

She was right about the ice cream he decided as he stood in the kitchen watching her licking a spoon with a dreamy satisfied look on her face.

They had wrapped towels around themselves and dined on leftover pizza and the heavenly ice cream she'd mentioned. It was everything she'd promised although it didn't make him weak kneed. The pain of the spell did that all on it's own, forcing them to stop twice while they were trying to eat to come together to ease his pain.

She'd been right about the shower as well. They'd just managed to rinse the hateful shampoo out before he couldn't bear the pain further. She'd held onto him as he lifted her and braced her against the cold tile of the shower wall. At least all she'd suffered that time was a chilled back.

He reached out and took the now empty bowl from her to set it in the sink with his then turned back to her before she hop down from the counter.

"Stay there," he said softly, his hands pulling his towel free and letting it fall to the floor. She pulled hers open and then spread her knees for him. He kissed her softly while tugging her hips till she was balanced on the edge. He reached between them, parting her lips with his shaft, using the tip to tease her little button out from beneath it's hood as she leaned back.

In his mind he shoved back at the spell with everything he had. Then he took a breath and slid into her, carefully working himself into her fully, listening for any sounds of distress. There were none. Just her little gasp followed by a soft moan.

"Never has there been a more perfect sound," he said softly.

He ran his hands along her thighs, lifting them together, resting her ankles over one of his shoulders, wrapping his arm around her legs. She arched against the granite, gripping the edge tightly.

He kept his pace as slow as he could, alternating between pushing back at the spell and letting the feeling of her skin against his pull him towards his peak, until her soft pleas of harder, faster grew loud. Then he took those lovely long legs down and pulled them around his waist exposing her center to his attentive fingers.

She bent backwards as he shoved her over the edge, crying out loudly. She relaxed onto the cold stone for a moment before propping herself up on her elbows and then reaching for him. He let her pull herself up with her hands on his shoulders. She pressed her lips against his while his hands moved to her hips, lifting her into his pounding thrusts. He pulled her off the counter driving his shaft deep into her welcoming softness, spilling his seed with a guttural groan.

After a moment he set her down carefully, she held onto his shoulders, kissing him between deep calming breaths, letting her legs fall weakly from his waist. His hands ran over her back, pulling her close.

"Holy hell," she said when he lifted his head, "remind me to get more of that ice cream."

He smiled. "It really was better than strawberry." She laughed. He pulled back and helped her down from the counter. She turned to pick up the towel, stopped and stared at it blankly for a moment.

"Of course. Why didn't I see it before?" she whispered and turned back to him. "He was in his office, at his computer."

Alasdair stood from picking up his towel. "Who?'

"John." She waved her hands. "When he said the answer is here. He was in his office, at the desk, and the computer was on. That must have been what he meant." She turned suddenly, wrapping the towel around her nakedness. "That's got to be it." She continued excitedly as she marched to the back of the house.

When he caught up to her she was standing at door he'd never seen before, reaching for the knob. He came up behind her but she didn't move to open it.

"Isabelle?"

"His office," she said with a little catch in her voice. She turned the knob slowly, swung it open, and reached inside to turn on the light.

He followed her into the room looking around. Bookcases lined two walls, most of the shelves were filled with books but some held framed pictures. To the right of the large dark wooden desk was a big comfortable looking chair. She bent down behind the desk.

"It'll take a minute to boot up." She looked up at him. He had stopped at the shelf that held John's work. "Those are John's." She walked back around the desk to join him. "I'm biased of course but he was quite good."

"He wrote these?"

"Yes." She pulled one down and held it out to him. "You asked why he would have information of spells. He was good because he did a lot of research." She smiled with pride. "Well that and he had an amazing imagination."

He looked at the brightly colored cover then turned it to read the back briefly. "He wrote about witches and warlocks?"

"And elves and dwarfs. There's a dragon in this one." She pointed to another. "He would have loved meeting you." She smiled up at him. "Your life story would have fascinated him. He probably would have kept you in here for days answering questions."

He set the book down to pull her into his arms. As she'd been speaking tears had gathered in her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

"Lass, we can search tomorrow night." She shook her head.

"No, every day you're stuck in there is another day that horrible hag wins."

"It's just one more day." His hand cupped the back of her head. "I can endure one more day."

"You shouldn't have had to endure even one." She pulled away, wiped her face and moved back to the desk. "I'm going to find whatever opens that damned amulet and get you out of there."

He'd never seen her angry before. He watched her for a moment before sudden understanding struck.

"Isabelle." He moved around the desk and went down on a knee next to the chair she had plunked herself in. "What happened to him?"

She looked down, closed her eyes for a moment and then looked back at the screen. "I told you, he was killed."

"How did he die?"

"What does it matter? He's gone, someone took him from his life. Just like someone did to you." She sniffed softly, grabbed the mouse and started clicking on icons.

"Lass, please." He turned the chair so she was facing him. "Leave this for tonight. The spell won't give us much more time." She looked at him, wiped her cheeks and nodded.

"I just want to check one thing." He frowned but nodded and stood. She turned back to the screen and grabbed the mouse again. She clicked on a folder skimming the contents quickly. She clicked again and again searching as fast as she could. "He kept notes of ideas, pieces of dialog, anything he thought he might use." Her eyes ran over the screen, hovered over a line for a moment, ran across it again and then she closed the folder. She clicked the shut down icon, flipped off the screen and stood.

"Did you find something?"

"I'm not sure yet. Let's go upstairs." She waited while he exited the room and then followed, flipping off the light. Before closing the door she turned back and whispered, "I think I see it now."

"It's almost sunrise." Alasdair took her hand, she let him pull her through the house quickly. They burst into the bedroom and stopped.

"What do you think you found?"

"He made a note for himself. All it said was 'a declaration?'. I know it's not much to go on but I know the book he was working on was about a witch and that's the folder it was in."

"What could it mean?"

"Maybe making a declaration of some sort can break the spell?"

"A declaration of what?"

She smiled and moved to her jewelry box to grab the amulet. "I can't speak for faerie but for humans it's one thing we really seem to struggle with." She held the amulet up. "Love." He smiled. "You think I'm crazy."

"Not at all." He reached out his hand. She hesitated for a moment before she stepped closer and took it. "Faerie don't wrestle with expressing our feelings the way humans do." His fingers caressed hers. "I've been trying to tell you for weeks."

"Tell me what?" she asked quietly.

"I love you Isabelle."

She stepped closer, looking up at him. "I love you too." She held her breath waiting for something to happen but nothing did. The amulet still had a faint glow but nothing had changed. It was still just a disc that wouldn't fit in the square divot on the cover of the book.

"I don't understand." She looked at it.

"Do you mean it lass?" He was staring at her intently.

Her hand drifted down, she swallowed and took a breath. "Yes."

He pulled her against his chest, dipped his head and captured her lips in a deep kiss. She sighed softly as he lifted her onto her toes and then stumbled forward suddenly, her arms empty.

"No!" She grabbed the book, slammed it shut. "You give him back." It didn't respond. She sank down onto the bed. "It was a mistake. He doesn't belong in there." Hot tears splashed the cover as she bent over it. "Let him go. Please, just let him go."

She sat there crying in quiet frustration for what felt like hours but turned out to be twenty minutes when she finally wiped her face with the end of the towel and stood. Her stomach rumbled loudly.

"Really? Now? I know pregnancy is supposed to mess with a lot but this is ridiculous." She sniffed. It did it again. "Baby, if I didn't already love you I'd be a little—" She stopped and looked down at her hand. She'd put it against her belly as she spoke, in it she still held the amulet.

It was a silver square with the green glow oozing from the sides.

She blinked and turned it, afraid to believe it had actually changed.

"It was you." She looked down with a smile. "Not us, not each other. It was you." Her other hand rubbed her belly.

She moved to the nightstand and set the now square amulet into the divot. She watched wide eyed as it melted into the cover, changing from silver into the brown leather.

Everything went silent for several heartbeats and then the book flipped open, the pages glowing with the same green light as the amulet. The light seemed to shrink inward for a second then with a ear ringing boom it exploded into the room. Isabelle was tossed backwards, banging against the wall. She slid halfway down in a daze but refused to look away. Alasdair appeared on the floor next to the bed. He caught himself on his hands as he fell forward onto his knees.