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witchqueenofthemoon · 6 years ago

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BODY AND SOUL Part 34 EPILOGUE (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: Here we are at the end. I keep imagining myself four months ago, on the edge of all of this--a completely different self, one that was so deeply discontent with everything in her life, unable to confront it all. I wonder what I would have said if you told me that soon not only would I have written a book, I’d have broken up with my partner of almost 8 years, changed my diet utterly, and tested the limits of my endurance for a broken heart. WELL, SELF, HERE WE ARE, ON THE EDGE OF OBLIVION. I’ve charged through all of it, and now I’m floating in the ether, unsure of where my path is going to lead next. To say I’m terrified is an understatement; but mostly I’m just drifting inside all of this, trying to take it an hour at a time. BODY AND SOUL was, and is, and always will be, about the bond between two luminous souls that cannot be broken by anyone or anything--a bond that is capable of changing the fabric of time with its strength and endurance. Love is everything. Love is the gold that you see in dappled sunlight and in the coolness of the evening and the sunset that floats down a horizon; it’s in the touch of hands, the quiet moments of stillness when you’re alone (yes, it’s there too), the earnest eyes of another heart seeing into yours. In the end, the love we give will always determine the love we’re capable of receiving--and if we can both take the love we’re given and give of ourselves with abandon, we’ve found the secret to life. My sincerest thanks to anyone and everyone who has supported this journey for me here on Tumblr specifically, but especially to these luminous beings: @misslunarayne, who has now become one of my dearest friends and closest confidantes, @ladywriter94 who has been my CONSTANT cheerleader and has sent me so many asks to rekindle my drive when my brain felt empty and my candle burned low, @surprisebitchwrites who was a ray of light from the beginning (and who coined Duckenzie--for which I am forever in her debt), @hi-ilovedamien who has been so earnest and attentive and made so many wonderful Instagram edits, @kahhlo who seemed to overcome her shyness along the way (hey baby doll), @deanfinite and @goddess-of-inferno who also felt moved to make edits, and last but certainly not least, @nat-de-lioncourt, who made the edit for my masterpost (the first one anyone did for my story), and was one of BODY AND SOUL’s most vocal supporters from Day 1. Without you, this story could never have been what it became. I’m indebted to all of you. Here, words fail me. I’m just so grateful.

When it comes to the garden house, it’s an idea most of all--I avoided too many details, because the garden house is what YOU want it to be. It’s my dream, but it’s your dream too. It’s the dream that comes to life when you open your heart to love and beauty. This is Kenzie’s dress in the painting. I made my AO3 (I’m @witchqueenofdarkness there too). Look for Part 1 there this week along with the BODY AND SOUL Spotify playlist (coming soon) and a masterpost that includes every BODY AND SOUL edit anyone has made for me. I’ll be seeing you.

EPILOGUE

ONE YEAR AFTER THE WEDDING

Kenzie was elbow-deep in her tomato plants. They were bursting with ripe fruits; tomatoes so large and red and perfectly formed they seemed unreal. All of her vegetables were growing that way; this was the first yield since the garden’s initial planting, and she still couldn’t quite believe how utterly spring and then summer had burst upon the house. There were a million flowers; the dahlias and lilies she and Duncan had planted together in March were blooming in lush rows along the south side of the greenhouse, stretching along its frosted glass facade. Beyond that, the house itself was surrounded by lavender and hydrangeas, towering sunflowers, yarrow and catnip, all growing with lush abandon, dazzling her eyes with their color under the shade of her straw sunhat.

We suspected this might happen, but we could have never imagined just how beautiful it would be. In this place, the laws of nature are greater. Held in the palm of Her hand, things grow endlessly. The Fates weave their endless tapestry through time and space; She creates and destroys, always.

Kenzie turned her head as she heard soft neighing behind her, the steady, slow sound of horseshoes on earth. Crocus was coming up to the fence, tossing his head at her. Whatcha doing? The soft drift of his low, large energy drifted across the yard to her; his tail flicked lazy flies from his hindquarters, silky cream in the June sunshine. Kenzie couldn’t quite hear the horse’s thoughts, but sometimes she felt like she could get small little pieces of his mood, tiny drifts of strange horsey contemplations; happy, she felt from him. Content. Kenzie stood, wiping the dark earth from her hands on the pair of old cut-off denim shorts she wore. She approached the post-rail fence, craning to look beyond Crocus for a moment to the field behind him.

“Where’re they, huh, honey-sweet?” She murmured, reaching two fingers to his damp nose. Crocus tossed his head; the braids in his mane slapped on his long neck. Beats me. Chasing dragonflies. Eating tidbits.

Kenzie stuck a finger in her lips, against her tongue, and whistled out into the low breeze. “Ivy! Pepper!” She whistled again, sending drifts of golden thought out beyond the hill the fence stretched around. She paused for a moment, hand drifting up Crocus’ long snout, then smiled as she heard the telltale sound of galloping horses; their two dark shapes drifted around the hillside and she grinned.

“Pepp, Ivy, come on over here, come on, come see me,” she chanted, hitching herself through the fence’s slats and carefully over the enclosure. Pepper made it first; his dark-chocolate coat shone in the haze of the afternoon, blindingly smooth, his flanks rippling. Black-eyed susans were woven into the darkness of his mane; Kenzie had spent hours with him yesterday, braiding them through. My sweet dark Pepper, she thought, turning an arm up to him; he pressed his long forehead into her hand and she cooed up at him. Ivy was tossing her head, eager for attention; her black coat was like a dark, reflectant pool, luxuriously smooth. She had tiny daisies in her mane; one of Kenzie’s favorite things to do this summer had been spending hours on their manes in the morning, hours with their quiet, huge spirits, the strong scent of them, their wide eyes, the overwhelming aura of them. My sweet Crocus, Pepper, Ivy. My beauties. She rode Crocus most often; Ivy had gravitated to Duncan from the start, eager to be near him, though he’d take Pepper out with Kenzie sometimes, beyond the field and through the woods to the far northwest of the property. Kenzie could often feel the presence of the Goddess in them; they were ever sweet and mild to her, far more inclined to be ill-behaved and mischievous toward Duncan. But I’m their beloved, Kenzie knew. Even they know who I am; who I was once. My sweet ones.

She turned away from them as she heard the screen door to the side of the garden house creak open; River stood there in a tulip-sleeve white summer dress with lemons printed on it, a floppy sun hat covering her straight black hair.

“Kenz, I got somemore paperwork from the court ordinance, I just need you to sign it when you get a chance. And Frederick called--he heard of some Waterhouse painting coming up for auction and wondered if you and Duncan would be interested in it.”

“Thanks, River, I’ll come in in a second, is that okay? Did they say anything about how Mr. Carothers is doing?”

“They said something about him doing well with the program, almost being done with it, I think. That was all, really.”

“That’s good. Can you call Frederick back and make an appointment for us with him next week? It’s a good excuse to visit him. I’d love to see the peacock again, anyway.”

“Sure, Kenz. I made some yerba mate iced tea a little while ago, if you want some.”

“Oo, that sounds lovely. I’ll be in soon, Riv.” Just giving my babies some love, she thought, and knew River understood without her needing to say it aloud. She turned back to Crocus and heard River swing the door shut; long, languid ivy was growing along that side of the house, dipping down through its stony facade, and the sight of it lingered in her mind as she stared into Crocus’ damp eyes. Her thoughts drifted to the court appearance several months ago; the time the man--his name was Jeremy Carothers, and he’d spiraled into deep alcoholism when he’d been fired from Shepherd Unlimited several years back--had broken into the Post building and accosted her seemed like ages ago, another life; revisiting it in the court room had been surreal. But as soon as she’d gotten to the court house that day, Kenzie had known she wouldn’t be pressing any charges; in fact, it had become clear to her that she wanted to pay for the man’s mental health services entirely. There’s no room for animosity in my heart, she thought. I am far too blessed. The point was always to share it with others. Always. The work the Foundation had been able to accomplish over the past two years was so extraordinary and moving; every major city in the United States was now implementing a solar program, and green house gas emissions, through the Foundation’s initiatives and new laws passed by the President with the help of Shepherd Unlimited and newly elected progressive candidates to public offices, were plummeting.

The world was changing.

Because of our love, Kenzie thought. Because of everything we’ve been able to do. Together. Spreading it far and wide and making it grow. Grow over everything. Touch everything with golden light.

Kenzie kissed her fingertips then pressed them to Crocus’ cool nose. The sun had become oppressively hot; she stepped towards the stable, beckoning to the horses.

“Come on, beauties, let’s get in the shade, shall we?” Ivy and Pepper eagerly followed Crocus, who was always the leader; he lumbered up lazily beside Kenzie as she made her way through the cool enclosure of the vaulted stable, carefully pushing the gates closed on each of the horses in turn, their paddocks side by side; a golden gate for Crocus, blue for Ivy, red for Pepper. She gathered their grain bags from the storage on the side-wall, pouring a cup full into each, attaching them to the hooks on inside walls of the three stalls; her eyes roved over the horses as they ate, pressing a fingernail against her mouth.

Miss you, baby, she thought out into the ether. Can’t wait for you to come home. Kenzie felt out with her mind; let her goldness drift through the stable doors, out and down to the beaten path that led in two directions, one to the house’s front gate (white-washed and covered in Zinnias this time of year), the other to the side greenhouse, its frosted, slanting rooftop glittering with sun; the double doors were open and she could almost smell the scent of the ginseng and ginger that were growing wildly within, her towering bamboo plants and pachira aquatica. She pushed her thoughts beyond; far, far beyond, out of the sphere of the property, beyond the forest that surrounded them, down the long roads and the highway to the city, where Duncan was working today. Come home, she thought. Come home and hold me, my love.

For a moment, she felt the drifting column of his blue energy falling against her, despite all the distance. Soon, beloved. Soon, my angel. On my way to you.

Kenzie trailed her fingers along each of the horses’ foreheads for a few moments; then she stepped outside of the stables, along the path towards the house; for a moment she took a detour through the greenhouse’s blown glass doorway, skirting under the canopies of ivy and through the palms that were growing with abandon now in the summer heat. My own little jungle, she thought, and not for the first time. She went on, past the daylilies, petunias and marigolds, bursting with color--here the backdoor led out to a little courtyard between the greenhouse and the main house, a fountain with the forms of Hades and Persephone in the center; Hades and Persephone, but made to look like us, Kenzie thought, gazing over it for a long moment as she passed through. It was Duncan’s face encased in stone there; and hers, hair falling back, petals drifting through its stony waves. His hands drifted at her arms, their faces turned up to each other. This stony Duncan wore an aegis; an aegis that had been carved in the likeness Duncan had described to the sculptor who created it. In the image of the one I saw in my dreams, he’d told her. The one I had in that other place, in that other time.

Kenzie went on into the house, sighing with relief from the heat. Here in the back hallway, there was no sound but the cool drift of a grandfather clock; in its face were the moon, sun and stars, and the likenesses of three women, one young, one of middle age, and one ancient; between them drifted gossamer threads in shining gold and blue. The triple-faced goddess. Her. And Time, which she created after we’d found our love; after we were the first true Soulmates. And now, everlasting.

Kenzie looked up as she heard soft music begin to drift down from the office at the end of the hall; River had put something on while she was working.

I’ll be seeing you, in all the old familiar places....that this heart of mine embraces...all day through...

The light was beginning to fall lower over the hall and the oaken staircase above the clock; evening was coming, and that meant Duncan would be home soon. Kenzie’s eyes drifted up to the end of the hallway beside the door to the office; a huge painting hung there, one that still took her breath away every time she saw it. It’s us, she thought, smiling, tears gathering in the corners of her vision. In the painting of them, commissioned over a year ago after their wedding, Duncan stood with his hand nestled gently at her shoulder; he wore a long black coat that dipped down over his chest at an angle, his curls on his forehead, his blue eyes piercing out towards the onlooker. Kenzie sat in a gold, gilded chair, her expression calm and discerning; the artist, who was known for his comparisons to Sargent, had painted her eyes with an ethereal golden glow, her honey-chestnut hair around her shoulders. Her dress was blush and rosy; flowers drifted through its tulle folds around her feet and the floor. Her hand was lifted around Duncan’s fingers, and her moonstone and diamond wedding band glinted there, painted to a lifelike perfection. The Young Royals, the artist had named it; anyone who beheld it regarded it with a sense of awe, often staring at it for a long while, seeming to lose themselves in their eyes, its calming aura.

In that small cafe, the park across the way…

Kenzie was reminded of taking Duncan to Emissary that morning two years ago; the softness of him as he pulled her against him on her constellation coverlet. She thought of how he’d kissed her with such abandon in front of One Franklin Square; in front of a crowd, and she smiled, blushing at the memory. We didn’t care at all.

I’ll be seeing you, in every lovely summer’s day, in everything that’s light and gay, I’ll always think of you that way…

The oak circle, she thought, clutching her hands around her waist--overcome, suddenly, in the drift of memory. That first time at the beach house. The Gala. That night at Le Diplomate, when my heart felt about to burst, his lips on my cheek. The first time I saw The Youth of Bacchus, the first time I saw him, in the roses, on that balcony. And I felt Her; I felt the hand of Fate. Rosemary. The knowledge of our destiny, our past, our future, our task. And we’ve begun to accomplish everything. Despite that other world, or our other selves, or our other fates in those other places; in this world we’re together, and we’ve accomplished wonders, and we’ll do more wonders still. It’s the love between us that did that. It’s the love between us that will go on and spread over this whole world--it’s love that heals everything.

She heard his footsteps on the pathway outside before she saw him; sensed him, drifting stormy blue. The door behind her opened; she turned and fell into Duncan’s arms, the jasmine and cedar of him causing the tears to fall from her eyes now, her mouth leaning up into his.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered into her lips. Here I am. Home with you.

I’ll find you in the morning sun, and when the night is new

I’ll be looking at the moon, but I’ll be seeing you

The light continued to fade over the painting at the end of the hall; if Kenzie and Duncan had been paying attention to it, they would have noticed the glowing, ethereal quality of the eyes of their likenesses in it, the way the gold and blue of them seemed to shimmer and pulse as they often did in the evening; they would have noticed how ethereal, incomprehensible wings seemed to shimmer behind their likenesses, how their painted clothing seemed to shift into impossible geometries; but they were too mesmerized with each other, too wrapped up in each other’s arms; there was nothing in this moment but the two of them. As it ever was.

I’ll be looking at the moon, but I’ll be seeing you

Evening came on the garden house.

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witchqueenofthemoon · 6 years ago

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BODY AND SOUL Part 28 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: I am really proud of and happy with this part; I cried like four times while I edited it. While I’m writing I can never really tell how my stuff is turning out; only reading over it later do I get a real feel for it, and this one made me feel some BIG emotions, which is always the goal with Duckenzie. As for the details, as usual: There are basically an infinite number of combinations of food you can put in tinfoil dinners; here’s 30 examples. The fire pit enclosure is built like this (but with brick instead of gravel), the copper pit itself looks sort of like this, but embedded in the pit. Obviously, both Duncan and Kenzie manifest Pyrokinesis in this part. In my AU, neither Kenzie nor Duncan are as powerful as their Michael/Mallory selves, as I mentioned before (more about that later); and Duncan’s right, Kenzie is more powerful than he is, and she always will be. ROCK A LITTLE is MY favorite of Stevie’s solo albums, so I made it Kenzie’s favorite, naturally. It’s wildly underrated in my eyes, an album with very strong feminine energy, and an incredible album to dance to (like Stevie, I think of Kenzie as always dancing). TALK TO ME is one of my favorite Stevie songs, period; it’s about the connection you have with someone when you can see who they really are, the assurance sent out that you love them unconditionally; of course it fits Duckenzie, because their love for each other is absolute. I also wanted to play on the idea of them needing to talk to each other out loud versus being able to really hear each other--that is, feel what the other is feeling--without words.The sound system built into the stone path is something like this. I cut Duncan’s dream off before Michael’s snow goes evil--I wanted the moments after they wake up from the dreams to be happy and sexy, but he will find out about his Michael!otherself soon enough, just as Kenzie will learn of her Mallory!otherself...very, very soon, in fact. I realized after I wrote this part that @spellman made a gifset awhile back featuring both of the scenes Duncan and Kenzie dream about, which is so perfect, here. I also really realized consciously for the first time that while Michael’s hair is blonde and Mallory’s chestnut-brown, my Kenzie’s is chestnut-blonde and Duncan’s is a russet-brown, which is sort of a lovely dichotomy between the two universes (I live for shit like that). Don’t worry, Kenzie’s going to get a ring (my dream ring asdhdjdgsh), but i wanted her initial acceptance of Duncan’s proposal to be more organic, and I’m so happy with it here--Duncan is ostensibly offering himself rather than anything material in that moment, which was SO important to me. Can’t wait to write the scene where Duncan calls Madeline Momby to her face for the first time. Soon. The next part is Big Cosmic Vibes and I can’t wait for everyone to read it. As ever, your asks, comments, likes, edits and reblogs mean everything to me.

Kenzie ran up the stairs towards the bedroom, heart hammering. What is that place. That place surrounded by black oaks, growing impossibly close together, so quietly, with no wind? Like a doorway. Like that hidden door that flew open for us when we met. It’s one of those places. There was one on that balcony that night; the roses, the solitude, the quiet beauty of that evening. That was a thin place too. I see that now. Duncan and I were meant to meet each other that way, in that thin place; to see each other. To recognize each other.

Because--what. We’re fucking Soulmates. I think that’s what it means. I don’t know. But I think so.

Kenzie pitched herself down to her suitcase, tossing it sideways, unzipping it in the fading light of the bedroom. The window was still open--the coming night was drifting in, tossing the tiny flowers in her hair. Kenzie thought of how Duncan had appeared in the doorway that afternoon; after he’d fucked her so passionately on the silken softness of this vast bed, left the loving marks of his attention on her--you have magic in you that you’ve only begun to discover, Duncan Shepherd. Together we are going to do something incredible, something we can’t see the exact shape of yet, but when we’re together I can feel the magic growing, like a tree that took root in the center of my body, and now it’s shooting up and its leaves are reaching through my arms and my throat and around my heart and filling my mind with their gold and every part of me is tingling with it, it’s like the way I feel when we fuck, it’s so beautiful and intense I can’t breathe. It’s the rightness of it that moves me so much. It’s the exact right thing. You, and the energy that is being stirred up between us. It’s our destiny.

She wrapped the grey cardigan around her shoulders and pulled out Duncan’s Brooks Brothers’ cardigan after it--for him. Let him wear it tonight, wrapped in the scent of me now, as once it smelled like him so much, comforting me when I told Momby I loved him. The tender way he wrapped it around me after that first night--I saw the promise in his eyes. Even then, I knew. We both did.

Kenzie stood and gathered Duncan’s discarded shirt from its pile beside the bed, then flipped the slender copper standing lamp beside the door on before she left--it illuminated Cupid and Psyche in its rich glow. Kenzie stared at it, bathed in the soft light; her eyes drifted over the flowers in Cupid’s hair, sweet alyssum, a crown for a prince of beauty. My prince. Maybe someday we can hang this picture somewhere in the garden house.

Kenzie suddenly felt like crying. Fuck. I love him so much. Oh, Kenzie Lou. You must have really paid your dues in another life. Just be grateful for every minute, every second with him. Watch the wondrous way the light is kindling up in his soul. It’s so beautiful I could just die.

Kenzie started at the stop of the stairs, then stopped.

I wonder if I can do that. What Duncan did. Appear somewhere else.

She gathered the cardigan and Duncan’s shirt in her arms against her chest, tightly--then Kenzie closed her eyes, biting into her lip. The deck. I want to be on the deck. For a moment, there was nothing--the silence extended, nothing moved, there was no sound in the house but the whispering rattle of the summer wind upstairs through the open window; the softest calling of a loon out on the lake, far off.

And then, she shifted. And she felt the wind on her cheeks distinctly, could feel the change in the air; the richness of all the scents of nature. Kenzie opened her eyes. Duncan was coming through the deck door from inside, the fireside cooking kit under his arm, a long box of tinfoil atop it, and in his other hand a carefully-balanced serving plate of the cold chicken seasoned with lemon pepper, red chili pepper and garlic, raw carrots and celery and some of the little sweet peppers, also tossed in the seasoning and olive oil--Kenzie could see them glistening in the low light.

“Baby. I did it. I just did it.” Kenzie hopped on the heels of her sneakers, overcome; she clapped her hands and rushed to him, carefully gripping the bottom of the plate, setting it on the deck’s round wooden table. Duncan stared down at her, puzzled for a moment, then a dawning expression of understanding came into his eyes.

“You appeared down here. You moved. Like I can. Fuck.”

“Dunny. I bet you can do things I do, too. Try it. Try moving something.”

Duncan blew air out of his nose, set down the other things he was holding. “Okay.” He closed his eyes for a moment, held his palm out flat towards the serving tray. For a moment, one of the carrots shivered, then rolled; back and forth, as if pushed by a particularly strong gust of wind. Then as Kenzie’s eyes focused on it, it shot into Duncan’s palm, leaving a trail of olive oil along his skin. Duncan grinned at her, his blue eyes lifting up in the shadows that had begun to gather around them, flashing almost white; then he laughed in amazed wonder, throwing the carrot into his mouth and crunching it with a triumphant immediacy, and Kenzie hopped on her heels again, laughing with abandon, too.

“This is fucking amazing,” he whispered as he swallowed. His hair was wind-tossed, his expression achingly sincere; his eyes seemed to be an indigo sky with drifting, shadowed clouds. Kenzie ran to him and threw her arms around him; she could feel the goosebumps that covered him now, and immediately unfolded his shirt in her hands, pulling it around him--he slipped his arms through, his expression full of aching affection for her.

“And now it smells like me,” she added, gently holding out the black cardigan as Duncan worked at the shirt’s buttons. He took it from her, almost reverently, pulled his arms through it and as Kenzie watched, heart aching, he brought the sleeves up to his nose, closing his eyes.

“It really does. Since I can’t really fit into any of your other clothes, this is the next best thing.” He gathered her against him. Kenzie, my sweet little firefly. We can do magic. Can you feel that? The air is vibrating because of us. It’s coming from us. Kenzie buried her face in the softness of his shirt, gripping onto the edges of the cardigan, lost in the feeling of him; you’re so much bigger than me, my sweet Dunny, you’re so warm, you could be my blanket at night, my coat in the winter. You are. You’re my shelter from everything. And here are the tears again; tears forever and ever. I don’t think I’ll ever stop crying again.

“Kenzie, cry as long as you want to.” Duncan’s lips were at her ear, the night wind drifting as the sun began its final descent below the horizon. “You can always cry with me, baby. I love you. I’ll kiss every fucking tear.”

The fairy lights along the deck had come on, and there seemed to be a hundred of them, in dipping echelons all along the sides of the surrounding fence, lifting up to the lintels. Kenzie noticed tiny lamps, embedded in the ground along the sides of the stone path, for the first time; they extended all the way to the dock and encircled the gazebo. Duncan must have set the timer, Kenzie thought, and more tears leaked from her eyes. Baby, you’re so thoughtful. You remember all the little things I say even when I don’t realize you’re listening. Duncan didn’t speak, but she felt the drift of his reply: everything you say I hold close to my heart. I wish I could memorize all of it--I wish I could tattoo your sweet voice onto my skin. It’s heaven to listen to you and I feel blessed that you would chose me to be the one to hear the things you say.

Kenzie looked up from the halo of his arms, past his earnest, dark-sky eyes, her gaze drawn up in shock--with a little gasp she realized the stars were coming out in earnest now, their cascade immediate, overwhelming, and deeply clear already. Nothing hindered the sky here; Duncan had been right. None of the haziness of neon lights to impede nature’s opulent display of cosmic wonders; a billion pricks of light were bursting in heaven, each one with a story so vast and infinite, Kenzie knew, it was enough to make one sob. She bit into her lip, pressing her cheek into his warmth again, closing her eyes; fuck, baby, that’s too fucking beautiful, I can’t stand it. She felt his cheek fall against the top of her head, and his arms held her so tightly they seemed to be crushing the breath from her lungs, but she didn’t care, no, no, to be inside his arms this way was the sweetest of all things, and she wanted it to go on forever. The thought of him letting go of her now made her want to wail like she was a little girl, bereft from the loss of Momby holding her. Her tears began to wet the front of Duncan’s shirt--she tried to lean back, upset to sodden it, but he shook his cheek against her.

“It doesn’t matter, baby, it doesn’t matter--I love you, I love you--”

Kenzie sniffled, letting out a shuddering breath, breathing the deep jasmine of his clothing into her; then she murmured “I’m hungry, baby, and I want music.”

“Mhmm, Princess Kenzie.” Duncan leaned his face down to her, kissing her wet cheeks, her mouth with tiny, tickling, pecking kisses--soon Kenzie was laughing through her tears, unable to contemplate anything but the sweetness of his touch now. Her stomach rumbled; Duncan gently let go of her and turned back to the dinner supplies.

“In the corner there, baby, you’ll see there’s a stereo setup.” Duncan nodded to the left side of the sliding door that led back into the cabin as he began to pull out two long sheets of the tinfoil. “Put something on. You’ll see. There’re hidden speakers all along the path,” Duncan said, “--and some in the gazebo, too. The music will echo everywhere. You can even hear it out on the lake for a little ways.”

“I should have known you’d know how to make tinfoil dinners without me telling you,” Kenzie shook her head, stepping away from him to where outdoor stereo system was protected under an awning that seemed to have been built specifically for it--she pressed a round power button and a menu came up on the interface with endless options; Sirius XM, Spotify, Pandora, and a digital library of over 100,000 songs. “Never met a rich boy who could cook like you. Then again--I didn’t meet many rich boys before you. Not my crowd.”

“I’m the only good one. Most rich people are terrible. Take it from someone who’s been around them their entire life.”

“That’s exactly the sort of thing a rich boy would say, Mr. Shepherd.” She turned back to him, sticking her tongue out, wrinkling her nose. Duncan had a laugh playing around his mouth now, glancing between her and his work as he arranged their dinners carefully on the foil sheets, the cold chicken in the centers surrounded by the vegetables, wrapping up the edges, making two foil lids to place atop them. She went back to the stereo, opening Spotify, searching for a specific album.

“But you actually are good, baby,” she said, over her shoulder. “You’re so good it makes me want to scream, honestly--and the fact that you aren’t hiding it anymore is something you should be proud of. I remember this one interview I saw of yours on TV last year--oh god, this is funny to think about now, baby--but you were so stoic in it, I thought, god, he’s so fucking handsome, but he seems so cold. Well. Duncan Malcolm Shepherd: you’re a big faker.”

She looked back at him, smiling, playful. She could see the blush on his cheeks in the glow of the fairy lights, the admission on his face. You’re right, of course, baby.

“Guilty. I am. Or, well, I was. I was good at it, too.”

“I saw through you, right away. I never would have gone home with you otherwise.”

“I couldn’t believe it when you said you would. I was so fucking nervous, Kenz. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything as much as I wanted you. The minute I fucking laid my eyes on you. It was like being slapped in the face. My heart just--fucking stopped. Like I--I recognized you. Like I knew it was you.” Duncan was wiping his hands on a cloth napkin he’d tucked under the serving tray as Kenzie hit PLAY.

“This is my favorite of Stevie’s solo albums.” Kenzie came over to him, sitting at one of the deck chairs, its spindly finely-wrought metal reminding her of a throne. Duncan was taking the fireside cooking kit out of its box; he leaned over her to kiss her, and she lifted her hands up to this cheeks, holding him against her for a moment. I can’t wait...the first line echoed into an electronic wind-up--it rang out over the stone path and seemed to skim across the lakeshore, dancing off onto the serene surface of the water. Now that I love you…the riff of an electric guitar bled out, flitting away from them on the deck, down the lights, through the trees, and Kenzie rattled her head from side to side with the music, grinning now. Duncan dipped away from her, laughing at her. Love you love you love you--she could hear him humming against her mind, could feel the sincerity of him, like a mantra whispered into her ear.

“I’m gonna go get some wine,” she said, hopping up. He nodded, the portable stove-top under one arm, their wrapped dinners on the serving tray in the other. “Get that sauvignon blanc, baby--I think you’ll love that one.”

“It’s nice to have my own private sommelier,” Kenzie drolled, blowing a kiss towards him. Duncan made an overdramatic gesture of ardency, as though he’d been smacked in the chest with cupid’s arrow, pretending as though he were about to faint. Kenzie laughed delightedly. I love it when you’re like this with me. No walls up, unafraid, unworried. Just happy. She hopped up from the chair, watching him over her shoulder as he stepped carefully down to the fire pit on the brick inlet at the bottom of the stairs, admiring the curls at the back of his hair, the wideness of his shoulders, the smooth skin at the nape of his neck.

Kenzie felt compelled to look above her again, at the radiant tapestry she knew was coming out there (the stars the stars galaxies the universe our universe, so vast in itself, so infinite), but forced herself on inside, through the sliding door at the ground level, to the side of the deck, closer to the kitchen. Soon we’ll lay under them and I’ll look for hours. I want to savor it. I want to wait a little bit longer before I really drink it in. I feel so overwhelmed--just getting to be alone together like this is a dream I never want to wake up from.

Kenzie moved through the side-room here, styled similarly to the front room; this alcove had several bookshelves, the books therein all of a similar, nature-oriented slant (she spotted Jack London and Henry David Thoreau as she walked past them), and another standing statue--this one was Artemis, her starry bow distinct, her hair tied back, a hound traipsing at her bare feet. Child of the moon; her only lover, Kenzie thought. To run always in the sweet embrace of the night--a night like this, but one that never ends. She could hear the music drifting in from the deck, Stevie’s distinct wail melting around her (well she dances around in circles, she’s got that feeling now)--the kitchen was half-lit by two identical, tiny lanterns that hung over the windows that looked out on the forest. Kenzie went to the picnic basket, now resting on the counter--Duncan had emptied it of their lunch and cleaned it--and pulled out two of the wine glasses, grasping one of the wine bottles that lined the lower shelf of the fridge (that sauvignon blanc--Duncan really does have excellent taste when it comes to wine, I’ve loved everything he’s picked out). She hesitated at the window, opening the wine with the bottle opener strapped to the top of the basket, looking out to where the dark pines dipped down. Her mind reached out to that circle of black oaks she knew lay just beyond. The gateway to another world.

She shivered, then made her way back outside.

The sharp smell of smoke on hickory hit her nose as she pulled the sliding door open with her elbow--Kenzie started with excitement as her eyes fell on the fire that now roared beyond the deck, its brilliant titian-white flaring up into the darkness. She could see Duncan standing to the side, illuminated in the light of it. He was staring down into it, standing beside the coppery basin of the firepit, his hand on his chin--he took her breath away for a moment, his expression serious and far-away, his blue eyes reflecting the licking flames with an eerie, ethereal beauty. There was something about him, silhouetted in the flames that way, that made her pause--stilled the excitement that had bubbled up in her, pressed strange apprehension into the corners of her mind--then it passed, as a vague dream, and Kenzie made her way down the steps, the wine and glasses in her hands.

“Shit, Dunny, you sure got that going fast,” she murmured, holding one of the glasses out to him. His eyes skirted to her--only then did Kenzie see the strange expression in them closely, the depth of his disbelief, his confusion. For a moment, they were both silent--the only sounds were the crackling fire, and Stevie’s soft voice--

No explanations and I tell you no...you say...nothing...that is how songs are written, stories are told, rumors are started...

“Kenzie.”

“Fuck, what is it, Duncan? What’s wrong?”

“I--the fire. I think I...I don’t know how I started the fire. I was piling the hickory in the pit and sort of, I dunno--thinking about the fire? I was thinking about it, imagining it. And then there was a fire. It was just--there. Kenz. It was just fucking there, flaring up like I’d doused the wood in gasoline and lit a match. Only I didn’t. All I did was think about fire.”

“Are you telling me you started the fire with your mind, Duncan?”

“Yes. Kenzie. Yes.”

Kenzie cupped her hand under his, which held the wine glass she’d handed him, limply. She dipped the bottle down into the rim, pouring until the glass was entirely full. Then she did the same for her own glass, setting the bottle on the round brick-lined slab of the pit’s outer enclosure.

“I wanna try.”

Kenzie clinked her glass against his--as Duncan watched her, that confusion still in his fire-lit eyes, she gulped at the wine, draining it halfway. Then, Kenzie turned to where the portable cooking stove was sitting beside the pit, still unlit in Duncan’s distraction. She knelt down in front of it.

Fire, she thought, gathering the warmth she felt on her back from the pit, the flickering orange dancing at the corners of her vision. Fire. She imagined pulling elements out of the air--carbon dioxide, oxygen, nitrogen--whirling them together, combining them.

Then, the little stove was lit; she could see the blue flicker of the flame burst up from the element at the bottom, could feel its little wave of heat spurt out towards her hands.

“Fuck.” She looked up at Duncan, whose fingers were pressed on his lips now, his eyes intense on her--a smile broke across his face, his grin kindling her heart up like the flames. As she watched he drank deeply from the wine she’d poured him--knew he felt in need of its heady courage, drifting in confusion.

“Holy shit, baby.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We can--we can make fire.”

Kenzie stood, noticing her legs were shaking. What else can we do. What other wonders, my love. How far does this magick go? She stood facing him for a long moment--the rich scent of the fire was flushing down her senses, its flickering heat drifting her hair back around her face. She could see the white glow behind his eyes, the power that was hovering inside him in this space, beside the fire he had made. And Kenzie knew, with certainty, that it was because of her that this fire had woken inside him. Knew that it was her light that had brought him to life this way. And the deepest joy filled her, like the sunrise, like the dawn bursting over a cool horizon, dancing over a field caked in dew, warming the earth and everything it could reach--spreading itself infinitely, selflessly, without reserve. That’s how I feel towards you, beloved. I could give endlessly, and never grow tired; the more I give to you, the more I have to give.

Duncan rushed against her--she heard the pattering arc of his wine spilling onto the stones, sizzling droplets hitting the blazing fire. His lips fell into her hair, against her forehead, onto the space under her eye, the dip below her ear. She knew he could feel her; knew she didn’t have to speak, that he didn’t want to either, just wanted to bask in the glow of their extraordinary fire with her. You can talk to me, talk to me, you can talk to me, you can set your secrets free, baby--

“I wanna dance with you.” She was grinning into the sweet-smelling skin of his neck, straining up to him, his arms gathering her fiercely into him. “I love this song so much.”

Duncan laughed, pulling away from her. She could see the glittering tears, the fire reflecting them like diamonds in his eyes. He was shaking his head. “I don’t dance, baby--.”

“Oh yes, you fucking do!” Kenzie gripped the edges of his shirt, pulling his mouth down to her, lost in the woodsy scent along the prickly hairs there, smiling against him, beginning to sway, dipping her head back and forth. “How are we gonna get married if you won’t dance with me at our wedding?”

Duncan groaned at that, his longing absolute; she watched his face shift from embarrassment into one of absolute surrender. You got me. His body relaxed again from its momentary tension; the fire popped, a flare of brilliant orange flitting skyward, and he began to sway with her, leaning his forehead down onto hers as she gripped his collar possessively.

“Here it’s only us,” she whispered into the bridge of his nose. “There’s nobody else in the whole world, baby, just us, just me and you and this magick, this night--”

“Kenzie, Kenzie, my Kenzie…” Duncan murmured her name over and over, swaying against her, his face shifting, his lips falling down to speak against her mouth. The blue fire of you is so strong tonight, Duncan, beloved--it envelops me, fills the corners of my mind, the secret spaces of my body, the very center of my soul, but it doesn’t devour, no--it makes me greater. Inside your love this way, I am more whole. I am more myself than I ever thought possible. She leaned away from him, clutching his hands so he was supporting her weight as her head fell back, feeling her hair cascade down to brush along the soreness at her back, the memory of his devotions--Kenzie’s chin turned up to the stars again, finally. I’m ready now, baby. I can look now that I’m holding you. Her eyes opened--the multitude was there, as she knew it would be, and the sun was gone. In its absence, the infinite expanse of the hidden myriad; the unseen world. The cosmic tide.

Oh, let the walls burn down, set your secrets free, you can break their bounds, cause you're safe with me, you can lose your doubt, cause you'll find no danger here

She was gasping with it--the feeling of his hands, the absolute devastation of the stars above them. Who knew there were so many stars in this universe. I never really knew until this moment. They seemed impossibly bright and distinct, and she was shaken with them--had known she would be. They seemed to stare at her, at Duncan, at the fire they had birthed out of the ether; the stars seemed to know her, know them, and bless them. Those stars seemed to know and confirm what Kenzie knew in her heart to be true. Our destiny: to be together.

“I know,” he whispered. “There’s nothing like it. Nothing.” The fire popped again--the scent of burning hickory drifted up anew to them. Kenzie could hear the sizzling vibration of their dinners inside the stove’s rounded pot, forcing her eyes down from the heavens, her stomach rumbling again. Duncan was pulling away from her, reluctant but with purpose, draining his wine glass. “I’m gonna go get the blankets, baby. Let’s bring our dinner into the field. Let’s eat under the stars. The fire’ll be fine until we get back. It’s a strong fire--I--I know it is. I made it. I can feel it. How strong it is. It’ll last until morning.”

Kenzie felt her heart pounding in her throat--the certainty and strength in his gaze was so beautiful she felt faint with it. She nodded. He smiled (the smile of an angel) and stepped away from her, full of purpose. Kenzie drank her wine off as she waited for him, turning back to the fire, gazing deeply into it.

Pyrokinesis, that’s what they call it, she thought. The ability to create and manipulate fire with the mind. So we can move things, move ourselves, and create fire. I can heal people’s minds with soothing calm if I concentrate, if I will my healing gold--my energy--into them. And I invoke something in people now, too. Devotion. Trust. Goodwill. I always did, I think, but...now it’s stronger than ever. Now it’s something I can see immediately. And I think Duncan’s becoming that way too, as the light of our love really seeps into him, really touches his soul. The shadow in him will always be there, because it’s as essential a part of him as his deep goodness. The shadow is the outward self for him, the light the self within. For me, the light is outward, and the shadow within. Together we create something infinitely powerful.

Duncan was coming back, the picnic blanket tucked under one arm, two of the thick quilts under the other; his expression one of earnest happiness that clenched at her heart. Kenzie lifted the lid of the little cooking pot with a cloth napkin, a plume of steam rising up as she did, and knew their dinner was done. She placed the sizzling foil wraps on the serving tray with a pair of tongs; she dipped down to the burner underneath, hesitating for a moment, then, concentrated, drifted her fingers against the element, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, the fire had burned away--sucked back into the air, back into the energy it had occupied before. Thank you, she thought, sending her gratitude out into the night. Thank you for your gift.

“Wow,” Duncan breathed, watching her, eyes wide. “That was so beautiful, Kenz. That was so delicate and lovely. Everything you do is so lovely--the way you do this...this magic. It’s like you’re creating tiny worlds with your hands.”

Kenzie picked the tray up with both hands, smiling shyly at him. “It sort of feels like that, honestly. A tiny movement but with a huge, intricate thing inside it. It’s sort of like that.”

“I can see it. When you do it. Yours is more powerful than mine. Mine is clumsier, I have to concentrate for longer. Yours is...it’s so graceful. It’s an innate part of you. I think mine is stronger when you’re near me. When you’re away, it’s much smaller.”

“You’re in luck. I’m not going anywhere, Duncan Shepherd.”

“Baby,” he breathed, leaning down, eyes closing, brushing his mouth with aching tenderness against hers. She longed to touch his hands, but their hands were full--to the stars, the stars, her heart was pleading.

“Let’s go, baby, show me,” she whispered, and he nodded, stepping away, looking back to her. Come on, Kenzie Lou. This way.

------

They’d stepped off the path, away from the illumination of the house with its strings of fairy lights, the lamps lining the stone walkway. Here there was the outline of the forest to their left, and ahead, a thinner line of trees that she could in see beyond, see the dip of a slope, the skyline ahead, the slightest residue of night-kissed clouds drifting here, soon to dissipate. She could see the halo of Duncan’s curls, the dark slant of his back in the black cardigan, almost like a long cloak in this light, his towering height and the mounds of the blankets under his arms. He cocked his head back, his face shrouded in shadow but his eyes sharp azure, brimming with a titillating innocence here, in the balmy night, in the warm grasses, away from the clear path but knowing all the same. Kenzie felt faint with the surety she felt from him--knew how deeply he had hoped to show her this, whatever it was, knew how he had longed to, waited for this moment.

“The slope is a little bit sharp here, baby, so be careful, go slow,” he said, and she followed him through the thin line of trees, their whispering leaves brushing against her hair, as if they longed to kiss her. Kenzie’s eyes were adjusting to the dark now, and she could see the tiny bursting glow of fireflies drifting through the grass, along the treeline--she looked up and saw that the slope fell down in a slant of longer grasses, half-grown with early summer, and then drifted out to a field that extended for a hundred yards ahead, the forest surrounding on all sides. She felt sure the road lay somewhere far off into the distance to her right, but it wasn’t visible from this vantage, and they seemed to be utterly cut off from the modern world. Inside this vision before her, there was nothing but the open grass, the dark trees, the night in its full, fallen glory, and Duncan.

She followed him down the slope, eyes on her feet to keep herself steady on the incline, hands carefully gripping the corners of the tray, its deep heat soothing. Duncan looked back at her again, and she met his gaze, drifting out to him. Can’t wait to hold you soon. I’m gonna hold you under the stars and never let go. The slope ended and they were treading into the grasses now; into the center of the field. There were more fireflies here, but there was a surprising lack of other bugs--one of the fireflies drifted onto Kenzie’s hand and she looked down at it affectionately--hello, little one--its pulsing light crawling up her arm for a moment, then drifting away again out into the air.

Duncan stopped where the grasses seemed to dissipate, there was a flat circle of short grass here that almost seemed man-made, though Kenzie knew, somehow, that it wasn’t--the grass here just grows this way, she thought, certain. It’s always been this way. Duncan laid the picnic blanket down and then gathered the quilts atop it, then turned to her and grasped the tray. Kenzie smiled at him, sitting, gathering one of the quilts around her shoulders, and Duncan set the tray between them, settling down beside her.

“Kenzie. Look up.” Duncan’s hands reached out to her, gripping her fingers, steadying her. I’m here with you, Kenzie, my love. Then he drifted his head up, his adam’s apple dipping, his mouth opening a little, his eyes shining with impossible brightness (my love, she thought, your beauty is infinite, like these stars, I love you so much and when I die I’ll be reborn to find you again, I know it, I know, Duncan, I’m not afraid), and Kenzie did the same--lifted her eyes to heaven.

The stars were so distinct, so gloriously bright, so effulgent they seemed to burn her eyes. To try to contemplate all of them was like trying to sift out unique grains of sand from a desert; there are simply too many, too much--there’s too much, like the way I feel inside your love, there’s just too much, I can’t describe it, I can only feel it, Kenzie thought, her breath sighing out in a shivering gasp. She felt Duncan’s hands clutch her fingers more tightly, felt him lean closer to her to comfort her, the warmth and the scent of him drawing near.

“That’s the Summer Triangle,” she was whispering, her voice aching in the vast, illuminated shadows. His affection for her in this secret place felt like he was touching her on every part of her skin, and she felt tears on her cheeks again--it doesn’t matter, with him I can always cry. “Lyra, Cignus, and Aquila.” Kenzie pointed up, dipping her finger eastward to an area where the clusters of stars seemed their brightest; one star in particular pulsed in almost the exact center of the sky, its brilliance like a beacon shining down on them.

“What’s the bright one, there,” Duncan asked, his achingly beautiful hand drifting up to the centermost star. She glanced down at him again; Duncan’s eyes seemed illuminated with white once more, like balls of strange, lapis-tinted fire. His gaze was heavenward, the wind blowing his curls across his temple, into the blue nebula of his eyes; he reminded her again of a pious saint, the beautiful visage of some fresco of an angel in a holy temple; my beloved, you’re what the poets speak of, what the painters of the ages have sought to capture with their brushes and their paints and their hands. I chose you. I choose you--tonight, and for every day to come. And I, too, am infinitely blessed.

“It’s Vega.” Kenzie brought her lips against the stubble on his chin--she felt Duncan turn his face down to her, his nose, then his lips brushing against her forehead with urgency, his hand coming up to hold her steady against him. Stay here, Kenzie, let me feel you in the sweet star-kissed darkness. “It’s one of the brightest stars in the sky, especially this time of year. It’s not that far away, at least, compared to most stars--only 25 light-years--then again, one light-year is over 5 trillion miles.” She grinned at him in the starry shadows; knew he could see her smile when his very white, straight teeth flashed back at her.

“God, we didn’t even need to bring that stargazing book, I guess it doesn’t matter that we forgot to bring it out here with us. I should have guessed you knew so much about the cosmos--everything you own has stars and moons on it.” His hands drifted down her arms, and Kenzie shivered, the bliss of this moment encompassing her.

“I don’t know that much--I mean, look at all of them,” and she blushed as his gaze stayed, steady, on her instead. “Look baby, look.” She pressed his chin up--Duncan’s eyes skirted to heaven, then back to her as if drawn by an invisible current. “There are so many. It would take my whole life to learn about all of them.”

“You look like that painting--Star of Heaven. The one I took the picture of you leaning on. Your hair is glowing, Kenz. Like it’s full of stars.”

“Let’s eat, baby,” Kenzie said, lost to any other reply, trembling under the weight of the emotion she felt here, in this place, with him, the fireflies drifting in languid arcs of bursting light, the sky awash with incalculable wonders. He was nodding, but his hand was drifting through the waves of her hair, as if tethered there, unable to break away.

“Eat your dinner, Duncan. Do as I say.”

“Yes, Princess Kenzie.” His hand drifted away, but Kenzie could see the reluctance on his cheeks in the bluish shadow--the moon was still corn-husk bright, but it was surrounded by wisps of cloud that seemed to swirl around it, and it alone--the rest of the sky was almost shockingly sharp and bright under the wide, open space of the field here, to a degree Kenzie simply couldn’t make sense of. Like all the other magick around us lately, I’m going to just accept it, and bask in its wonders.

They both unwrapped the foil at the same time--a plume of smoke drifted up from each, and Kenzie couldn’t help but wriggle with excitement again at the wonderful scent that rose from them. She stabbed into the tender chicken with her fork, bringing it up to her lips, blowing eagerly, then popping it, hot and juicy, into her mouth.

“Ugh. It’s perfect, Duncan. Everything is perfect.” Their hands came together again, feeling desperately for each other.

“Kenzie. Today, in the woods--in that circle of oaks. Did you feel like--I dunno. Did you feel like we were in another place? It felt like we weren’t even on earth anymore. It felt like we went to another world. Did you feel that way? And I was calling you those strange names, but I don’t know where I heard them, or if I was imagining them, making them up, but...I don’t think so. I don’t think I was. I just--I don’t understand--the fire and--”

“Shhh, Dunny. I don’t know either. But I’m not afraid. I think--I think something is nearly here. It’s so close, can’t you feel it?” Kenzie set her fork down; drifted the very tips of her fingers down his palm, opened to her on his knee. Duncan looked up, as if the sky was less overwhelming than her eyes in this moment, less overwhelming than the strange wonders they’d experienced today.

“Yes, baby. I feel it.”

“We just have to--we just need to be patient for a little bit longer, I think. I think soon we’re going to understand things a lot better. Really soon. I just have this feeling, as if we’re standing in front of the next door on the path, and our hand is on the knob, and we’re about to turn it--”

“--And there’s just this little bit of time between the us and the door opening,” Duncan finished. “Yeah. Yes, baby. Yes. Okay.” He leaned down to his dinner, then, and she could feel the blue of his mind soothing, calming, settling down to indigo tranquility. They were both quiet then--they ate in a sweet silence that Kenzie cherished.

A little time passed--Duncan pushed his dinner away, his foil empty, and laid down on his back on the picnic blanket, one of the quilts under his head. Kenzie felt full and deliriously happy; Duncan pulled eagerly at her hand and she leaned down to him, pulling the other quilt over their legs, tucking her head down into the crook of his arm, breathing deeply at the smell of him--sweet jasmine, sharp cedar, the rain on a spring day in a green forest. Kenzie could feel something nagging at the blue patina of his thoughts again; something he was fighting to find words for, something that seemed vast and deep. Something from the woods. Something about those oaks all growing together, and the flowers in their swirling pattern. And my gold--the healing press of me against him now. The way I can soothe him so utterly, the way he knows it’s not just how much he loves me, or how much I love him, but an ability that I have. The magic that is mine and mine alone.

For awhile they laid there in the quiet, staring at heaven. Its dome of brilliant stars seemed almost unreal--simply too great, too imperceptible--and their thoughts were unclear to each other; his hand drifted through her hair, and Kenzie pressed her lips on the softness of his shirt under his breast. The moon drifted out from a cloud, then dipped behind another. Vega shimmered from the center of the sky--it seemed to look down directly on them, watchful, protective.

“Kenzie,” she heard his whisper, so soft she almost thought she’d imagined it.

“Yes? What is it, Duncan?” Somehow Kenzie knew that the thing he was going to say was going to shake her. Suddenly she was afraid--there was an immensity to this moment, a swooping, dropping sensation in her body. She tried to move her arms more tightly around him. Brace yourself, Kenzie Lou. This is the beginning of the revelations.

“In that circle in the woods....in the middle of everything. I had a realization. It was like...in that place, I could see everything about life more clearly. Everything about us, and the world, and the way it’s--it’s tied so loosely. I could see that we were in a--what did you call it--a thin place. Like we were close to other things. And I saw you...differently.”

“What do you mean, differently?” Kenzie brought her head up to look at him, her chin still resting on his chest. A firefly drifted past his russety curls, glowing faintly, then fading out.

“I mean--I saw what you really are.”

Kenzie smirked at him, despite the nervousness she felt fluttering in the center of her body.

“What am I? The Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

He grinned at her, twisting a lock of her hair around his hand, his gold bracelet glinting for a moment. You haven’t been wearing a watch lately, Kenzie thought. It’s like time doesn’t really matter anymore when we’re together, isn’t it, baby. It’s like that.

“Kenzie.” His expression softened; Kenzie could barely stand the emotion inside his gaze now. The blue center of a soft, drifting star. How I love your eyes, Duncan.

“Kenzie,” he said again. “You’re…”

She heard the thought before he spoke it. An angel. “An angel.”

“Baby, you always say that. You always call me that.”

“Kenz, no--I don’t mean like that. I mean you’re--I saw you. The real you. The you you were before this life, before this world, or...something. It was that place. Inside it, I could see things that are usually hidden. And I feel like you did too. Did you? Did you see anything? Anything...differently? Did you see me differently?”

Kenzie’s breath caught in her chest; her eyes drifted away from him, overwhelmed, into the stars, overwhelmed again inside them; she sighed, the breath trembling through her.

“I--I think--”

Fuck. I think I did. I think it was like a flash of lightning in a dark sky--there for a moment, then gone, but the outline of it still burned into my retinas. Like the dreams, I remember the outline, but not the details. I don’t know if it’s possible to remember the details. I think it might be too much to really see. Too great.

“I think so,” she whispered. “But I can’t describe--I can’t find the words...I remember the flowers around your head turned to gold. A gold so soft and beautiful it was like they were still alive--golden flowers, baby. And in my mind I thought...some kind of name. Like those names you called me. Sword of the Evening Star. That’s what it was. That was what I called you, in my mind. Like someone had whispered it into my ear. Sword of the Evening Star. How lovely is that.”

“I called you Angel of the Hidden Sphere,” Duncan’s hands soothed along her arm, down the crook of her waist. “And I don’t know what that means--I don’t know what the Hidden Sphere is--but Kenzie--listen to me. You were something else once. Something more than human. I guess I don’t know what else to call it. Mackenzie. You were an angel.”

Kenzie felt tears gathering along the edges of her eyes.

“An angel? Baby, what are you saying? I don’t…”

His lips drifted down against her forehead. His scent enveloped her; the soothing blue aura that always surrounded him was trenchant, completely whole, utterly certain.

“I know it’s unbelievable,” he was whispering against her, his voice steady, unshaking. “But just think about all the unbelievable things that have happened to us lately. We both made fire just by thinking about it. I moved across the entire house in the blink of an eye. You’ve been moving things across the room just by looking at them. You can heal people’s hearts just by touching them, just by willing it. I knew where you were last night because I felt you. When I realized Annette isn’t my real mother, you felt my sadness over miles, baby. All of that should be impossible in the world we used to know. But now that we’re together, there are extraordinary things in this world--real things, Kenz--that exist despite all doubt, and we’re starting to see them. And that’s what I saw. I saw that you were--that you are, that you always will be--a divine being.”

Oh, goddess. Oh, Duncan.

Kenzie felt the tears begin to course down her cheeks, dampening Duncan’s shirt--soaking into him. She began to sob quietly against him; I don’t understand--but I do. What you’re saying, oh, Duncan--I feel that it’s true. I can’t believe it, I can’t comprehend it, but I know it’s true. I don’t know what it means, I don’t know what the past was, or what the future is--but I know you’re right I know I was what you say. I know she’s inside me, still hidden, still waiting. Little parts of her peek out sometimes, when someone needs help, when I feel a love so deep for you it wants to tear me apart. But the wholeness of her is beyond this world.

“Oh, baby, oh, Dunny, oh my god, oh--” Kenzie found that she couldn’t stop now; her sobs rose, crashed against him, tears drifting in a steady stream against him now, soaking him. She brought her hand against her eyes, could feel her mouth crumpled into an involuntary frown, her heart overwhelmed with an immensity of knowledge that threatened to rip her in two. Duncan turned into her, his arms tightly around her, cradling her face inside his grasp, his cheek in her hair, his mouth speaking soothing sounds to her ear.

“Shhhh, baby, shhhh, angel, my angel, shhhhh, everything’s okay, everything’s fine, I’m here, I love you, shhhhhh...”

Kenzie could hear the slow, steady march of his heartbeat--could feel the tiny rhythmic burst of it against her cheek pressed to his body. Even inside this, even knowing this, trembling in its greatness, unable to comprehend my own Fate, I know the part of it that belongs with you. I know that, absolutely. At least that I know completely. Help me, baby. Help me bear it. Help me feel it and not be overcome by it.

“Exalted. Beloved of heaven. My Kenzie. I beheld your greatness. I am moved by it, body and soul.”

His words shivered against her with the softness of tiny wings. He was lifting her face up to him, his mouth the dearest, most passionate adoration. Kenzie could feel the stars above them now; feel their endless, wheeling weight, the massive geometry of their dance, feel the measurement and ponderousness of time for a long, infinite moment, extended through the divinity of his lips. No matter what eons pass, he thought, I will love you. For all time. I always have. In every place. In every time. In every moment. And forever.

Kenzie cried against him for a long time; the stars wheeled, glittering beyond all secret knowledge, and Duncan held her, his arms trembling with emotion, and after awhile, she felt his tears in her hair, and she felt soothed by them. As you are moved by me, I am moved by you, my love. As I am exalted, I’ve exalted you. Body and soul.

--------

Kenzie sat at a long table in a white room.

Zadie. It’s Zadie. Zadie was wearing a long black cardigan and a white blouse, holding a white rose. She was speaking, glancing at Kenzie from where she stood on the other side of the table; Kenzie could sense there were other women on either side of where she sat in the center, could sense their warm, curious energy in soft colors. Zadie was speaking, but Kenzie couldn’t hear her at first--she strained to hear, tried to still her mind away from whatever was blocking her hearing, tried to quiet herself. The sound slowly bled into her mind as though from a far distance--

“Nothing is immutable when the will of a strong woman is applied. Now, show me how strong you are.”

Zadie looked up at her expectantly; and at the other girls. Kenzie looked down--in her hand was a white rose almost identical to the one Zadie was holding. Kenzie knew, immediately; we’re supposed to change the color of the rose. It’s some kind of test--it’s like we’re in a class.

And Kenzie knew immediately, too, that she could do it. Like pouring wine into water, watching the color change. I can pour myself into the rose, and change it, utterly.

Kenzie felt herself breathe out, soothingly, felt the gold of her drift into the rose; slowly it altered, like the tide falling out onto the stretch of the shore. Blue, and her mind flared with the depth of her affection as she watched it change to a rich cobalt, like a lapis stone. Blue, the color of Duncan’s eyes, the color of his soul. Blue, in honor of the one I love most. Kenzie watched the rose deepen, felt the smile on her cheeks--then she watched, as if removed from herself, as the rose’s petals, now deeply, radiantly blue, drifted down from the stem, falling to the table’s surface. She thought of Duncan; like wings inside me, my deepest joy, the flowering center of my being, his hands so beautiful and graceful and delicate on my body, his devotion so pure, so entire. Roses in the bathtub, a diamond moon at my throat, our gold bracelets, tethered to our skin, the aching sound of his voice in the darkness, the beautiful edges of his jaw, his throat, his lips. The way he holds me, the passion of his touch. The blue is for him; as I am his.

Kenzie continued to watch the rose petals; as she did, she felt her mind reach out for them again, as if removed from her own demand, trapped inward, looking outward at another self. The petals began to alter, to change into something else--soon, each one was a cobalt-colored butterfly, their tiny minds melding against hers; each one was a part of her, she could feel it, each one was an aspect of her own soul. And each one is a devotion to him, she knew. Each one is a part of my love for him.

She felt herself drift a hand down, then dip it upwards, her fingers curling softly--the butterflies floated towards the ceiling, their wings drifting in graceful ease. She sent them to where she knew Zadie was standing; with mild surprise she noticed Candice now stood beside the tall girl, wearing a high-collared floral dress, her expression astonished at Kenzie--astonished at what she had done to the rose. The butterflies drifted above Candice’s head; Kenzie pushed the gold in her down, and the butterflies broke apart, becoming petals once more that fell around Candice and Zadie. Candice held out a hand, her face still marked with wonder; one of the petals floated down into her palm, and as Kenzie watched, it turned white again, the blue disappearing entirely.

And then she was drifting back up--up, up, towards a different, darker light, as through a pool of water lit by light, back into the night, back into the field of stars…

Kenzie opened her eyes. They saw nothing at first; only deep darkness, only void. Then, they began to adjust--she could feel the softness of the moonlight, once again peeked from behind a scant slip of cloud, and knew the warmth and weight under her cheek was Duncan’s body, knew the slow, steady drift of his breath meant he was asleep--as she had been a moment ago.

I was dreaming.

Kenzie looked up, moving only her eyes, keeping her head steady against him; through the corners of her vision she could see the universe still spread out above them, sense that they were still in the depth of the night, dawn far off. It was wonderfully warm against him under the quilt; the night was balmy and mild, the wind having drifted off, leaving the air very still. Kenzie could hear peepers calling off in the surrounding trees; she strained for a moment and heard an owl, the pattering of some creature in the undergrowth.

Blue butterflies, she thought. Blue roses for Duncan. How lovely. And Zadie and Candice were there. That was such a beautiful dream. I almost wish it had been longer.

She fought to come out of the dream; noted with vague surprise that they’d fallen asleep out here in the sweetness of the field, under these miraculous stars. I think I could sleep anywhere as long as you’re with me, she thought, and sat up, turning her head to gaze at Duncan in his sleep. Strands of his russet-colored hair drifted against his forehead, and his face was turned down to where the crown of her head had been a moment before, his hand near where her cheek had rested. He looks like an angel, she thought, vaguely; and then the dawning realization swooped back down on her, the memory of his words before, the ones that had made her cry so hard, the ones that had eventually pushed her (and him too) into such sudden, complete slumber.

That I’m divine, she thought. I’m an angel. Or, I was. Or, I will be. That’s not clear. None of this is. I just know he’s right. If so much hadn’t happened already--if so much magick wasn’t drifting around us--I’d think I’d gone insane. But I can’t deny it. I know he’s right, just as I know the sun will rise in a few hours, covering this field in golden dew. Just as I know he loves me so much he would die for me if he had to; die a thousand times, ten thousand times. As I know these things, I also know the truth of what he said; the certainty. I was something like that. It’s the reason I can heal his heart when he’s sad--send gold into him and soothe him. That was something I could do long ago, can do now again because our souls are close once more, and they remember each other, even if we didn’t at first.

That’s all I know. But I can feel that this is just a tip of it. Just the first part of knowing. Be patient, Kenzie Lou. All things come in time. All you can do now is wait. And she knew it was true.

Kenzie slowly slid her fingers down onto Duncan’s serene, stubbled cheek; she hovered just over his mouth now, and whispered softly.

“Dunny, baby, wake up…”

Duncan stirred, his head cocking up, to the side--he made a tiny, sweet sound, like a sigh, and then his eyes (white-blue sapphires) opened to her; she saw the immediate recognition in them, the confusion there washed away almost instantly, the calmness in him to behold her.

“Kenzie, I was making snow,” he murmured, his hands drifting up to grasp her at her hips, and she smiled at him, puzzled.

“Making snow, huh?”

“Mhmm.” He pulled her down to him, back into the warm cocoon of his arms; Kenzie’s cheek pressed into the soft skin that peeked from his collar and she let herself be drawn into the comfort of his embrace again. “I was in front of a fire, facing four men at a table. Anchaly was there, and so was Ben Wilder,” and Duncan laughed a little, his voice still tinged with sleep. “That’s dream logic I guess. I didn’t recognize the other two men...one had glasses, one had a short beard, dark eyes. I’ve never seen them before.”

“And you were making snow in front of a fire?”

“Yeah. The man with the dark eyes said change the weather inside this room, and turn the water into snow. So I did. I stood in front of the fire and lifted my hands into the air--I told the air to change. And it did. It started to snow. I was so happy--it was so lovely, Kenz. They laughed and said beautiful, beautiful--and then I heard your voice. I heard you calling to me, and I woke up.”

“I had a dream too,” she whispered against him, and Duncan’s arms drifted down the smoothness of the little dress she wore. She felt her skin prickle and hum under his fingers; remembered the graceful movements of her own hands, lifting the butterflies she’d made from rose petals into the air. “Zadie and Candice were in my dream, that’s so funny that you had people you recognize in yours too--and it’s odd--I was sitting with these other girls, and Zadie wanted us to change these roses we were holding. Change their color, I mean. And I did, I changed mine from white to blue; blue because it reminded me of you.”

She felt Duncan’s hands drifting down further still. Suddenly she felt hot, flushed--his fingers pressed under the hem of the dress, against the bottom dip of her ass, sore from his attentions earlier. She wondered what the bruises there were like now. His face was turning to her as she spoke, his eyes focusing in hers--she could see that strangely white, ethereal glow again, as though the moon were trapped inside the depth of blue. The white is the hidden aspect of you, she thought, like the moon turning behind a shadow. It’s the magic inside of you.

“Reminded you of me, huh?” His lips hovered over hers, his hands pressing up further against her ass, making her arch at the sensitivity there, and higher, along the fragile lift of her hip bone.

“Uh huh,” she whispered. “And then I turned them into butterflies. Isn’t that lovely? I thought about your love--how much you love me. And I made the petals into butterflies.”

“That’s beautiful, baby. That’s such a lovely dream. Can I kiss you, Princess?” She turned her jaw up, teasingly, away from his mouth--his lips dipped to hover in the space below her ear, not quite touching down, waiting for her reply. She leaned up into him, letting her breasts press up into his collarbones, eliciting a low moan from him; “...please, Princess Kenzie.” The night air was drifting against them again, the wind having stirred once more. His hair fell onto his forehead--his eyes burned for her, for me alone, she knew.

“Yes. Kiss me.”

He fell against her; his mouth was a supple devotion, salty-sweet and wet for her, wet with need. The depth of his desire was immediate, intense; his hands came to the slender straps at her shoulders, forcing them down with demanding strength as his tongue slipped between the smoothness of her teeth, coiling around hers, lifting back with anticipation, driving forward into her once again. Kenzie let out a low moan--she couldn’t hold back, couldn’t stave off the golden spiral that was stirring in her belly, licking in tendrils to her sore, hot sex. He was pushing the fabric of the dress away, pushing the cups of the bikini top down--Duncan slid down from her mouth and his burning, full lips closed over her nipple, hard and straining in the meandering air. Duncan sucked, flicking his tongue out to coil around her, so hot and wet Kenzie jerked up into him, crying out, then she heard her want falling out of her, like an obscene, Bacchanalian song.

“I wanna suck on you,” she whispered, loving the exigent heat of him on her breast, lost in it, opening her eyes to the stars, their glory urging her on inside her want. “I want you to fuck my mouth, baby. Please. I’m hungry for you.”

“Fuck, Kenzie, baby--”

“I mean it. Come here so I can get you hard for me. Do as I say.”

“Kenzie, angel, fuck, you know I’m already hard for you--”

“Then I’m gonna make you harder. Fuck my mouth.”

He was shivering now, shaken by her demanding tone, she knew; hopelessly aroused with it, straining to resist. She reached up, gripping his jaw, pulling him down to her, roughly devouring his mouth for an aching, unbearable moment, letting the wetness of the saliva gathering on her tongue graze into him, my mouth is wet for you, baby, wet for your needy cock, and then she pushed him up, away from her lips, staring into his eyes, tightening her fingers, a choke of supplication escaping his throat.

“Who do you belong to, baby?” she whispered.

“Ung, Kenzie, you, angel baby, divine angel, you, you know I do--”

“Fuck. My. Mouth.”

She let go of him at that, propping herself up on her elbows now, facing him, expectant. Duncan nodded, his eyes drifting closed in an overwhelmed stupor, the sleep having vanished from his face; he leaned up, the quilt falling away from him, his eyes fixated on the bareness of her breasts where he’d pushed the dress and her bikini down around her waist as he pushed the soft waistband of his shorts down, his thick, hardening cock falling free. Kenzie nodded, grinning at him.

“That’s it, baby. Come here.” She glanced down at her little breasts, suggestively, batting her eyelashes at him; put your cock between my breasts, baby, hold them together, fuck me there, wet me with your tongue--and she saw his eyes flash, long white-silver inside the brilliant blue, and he was leaning down to her, pressing his mouth with unbearably intense sweetness to her heart, laving his tongue out, slickly wet and hot, leaving streaks of moisture in the incline of her chest, glistening in the starlight, the hazy moonlight. Then he was leaning back, bucking his hips up toward her, pressing his cock to the wetness he’d left on her, and Kenzie dipped her head to him with hasty need, sucking his length into her lips, making him gasp--she slid down so he fell further into her throat, then lifted away, and Duncan was leaning his hips between her breasts, his achingly lovely fingers coming under, into their whiteness, covered in goosebumps at his touch. His cock slid down between them and he pushed both of her breasts against his length--Kenzie lowered her lips to the head of his cock again, smiling against it for a moment, then taking it into her mouth, gathering more wetness from the back of her throat; then Duncan was jerking his hips up into her, his mouth falling open in a beautiful abandon that made her feel faint.

I love your big fucking hands, baby, she thought, letting her eyes flutter closed, knowing he was watching her. I love your big fucking beautiful hands on me, spanking me, choking me, gripping me so tightly, leaving the bruises of your affections on me, fuck, I love it so, I love you, there’s nothing like the heat, the sweetness of your hands on me, leave bruises on my breasts, leave the marks of your fingertips on my soft skin--she let herself gag a little on his length, let her eyes roll back, knowing it would drive him to the edge, and felt a satisfied thrill as he groaned, loudly, into the night air, his hips shuddering against her nipples.

“Unnh, baby, Kenzie--” and she dipped lower, taking more of him, insistent, feeling the tips of his fingers digging into the supple, round softness of her. That’s it, baby. You belong to me, your body, your soul. If you know of my divinity--if I must accept it too, if I must find a way to live inside this knowledge while also being human, know that you belong to me--know that as you’re mine, entirely, supplicant to me, I am also yours entirely--and together we are infinitely lovely, intensely divine, my divinity made greater by you--as I give myself to you, give yourself to me: as only you can.

She pulled up from him, her tongue lingering on his smooth head, flicking into the hole there, and another long, pained groan leaked out from his lips.

“Can I please fuck you, Princess?” he moaned, and she giggled against him; oh I fucking love that too, Dunny, baby. I love it when you beg me, my lofty Prince of Shadows. My fair Hades on his high throne, begging me. Bowing to me.

“Only if you call me those beautiful names again,” she whispered, fluttering her eyelashes to him again, lifting her gaze up, staring into him, her tongue flicking out against him again. “Those beautiful divine names.”

“Goddess of the Golden Bower,” he breathed, and pulled away from her mouth; Kenzie let out a little whimper of longing. Come back to me.

“Princess Kenzie, please, let me fuck you now.” I long for the sweetness of our bodies together that way. I long for it always, but under this moon and these stars, I’m aching for you. If your blue butterflies are for me, the snow I made, shrouded in golden firelight, was all for you. “High Princess of the Garden of All Delights. Fuck, baby, I wonder what that place is. The Garden of All Delights. Doesn’t that sound beautiful? And you’re the High Princess of it. That’s only right--” and he was dipping his mouth down against hers again, his hands clutching her up into him, pressing under her shoulder blades, against the soft skin under her arms. “--you are the High Princess, aren’t you? The Princess of all Angels, I’m sure of it, I’m sure you are--”

“Ugh-hh, fu-uck, Duncan, baby--” Kenzie’s cheeks felt unbearably sensitive and soft where he kissed them, the memory of her sobbing tears still fresh there (tears of disbelief--I still can’t believe any of this, it still has to be a dream, how can I be divine, how can that be, blue flowers, blooming in your eyes, beloved, you must be the one who’s divine), but Duncan continued to press into her with insistence, his mouth a devout rose bud blooming onto her, her breath catching sharply inside his concentrations. She reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it (the second time today, baby, the third time in the throes of your need, and fuck, I don’t care, I want you again, I always do) as he worked her dress and the bikini further down, slipping his fingers into the waistband of the bottom at her hips--she slid out under his hands, amazed by the strength in them as she ever was, and his fingers were easily pushing her clothes away, which stood no chance against his urgency.

Now they were both naked (wonderfully, blessedly naked, naked but for my diamond moon and our ever-present golden tethers, the sweetness of this balmy night on our skin, and I’m stunned by your touch over and over, my wild wine god)--Duncan’s head dipped down, his curls trailing along the shivering mound of Kenzie’s stomach as his mouth kissed, adamant, at her abdomen--then pressed, immediate, tasting, at her clit, his tongue flat on her, drifting back and forth--then Duncan arched up and pushed her legs apart as far as he could, with a harsh movement that made her breath catch, suddenly frozen, in her throat; that’s it, fucking fuck me and she was murmuring as his mouth fell on hers again, his knees between her legs now.

“Yes, baby, yes, uhhh, Duncan, yes--” and Kenzie wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder as he pushed into her, as far as he could, his hardness making her gasp again, gasp with immediate tears, and goddess, this beautiful night feels so fucking good, like it’s kissing every inch of me--helping you kiss me because your mouth can’t be everywhere at once, though I wish it could, I wish, baby, I wish--and Kenzie felt as though they were some wild god and goddess in some wild, mounted, hidden place, where only gods could reach, only divinity could escape to; you and me, my exalted love, and she felt his bluish affections inside her, felt his agreement, his approval of her imaginings--yes, Kenzie, only me and you, only us in a secret bower, the Garden of All Delights where only we can go, this place is our own garden right now, our own hidden Eden--

“God, baby, fucking you like this, under the stars--” he was whispering into her ear, his panting breath making her feel terribly close to the edge, weak with the threat of her orgasm, dizzy with the wave of his desire for her, “the most beautiful night, and no one here but us, and those beautiful dreams, and you, the most beautiful of all, my Kenzie--” and she was arching up against him, trying to hold back, but Duncan pressed his mouth to her neck and bit down into it, harshly, insistent to leave a mark--I know you want to, I feel it, Dunny, you want to leave a mark, more marks on my soft skin because I’m yours--and his fingers were dipping into the tininess of the space between their quivering stomachs as he pressed his thick, burning cock up into her, sending her senses reeling into dark, verdant shadows, rubbing at the sodden space between her legs, insistently coaxing her towards what she wanted so much but was desperate to prolong for just a little longer--she could feel him, the cool swirl of his emotion, already sad for the inevitable moment their bodies would part again, and Kenzie clutched at his cheeks, her thumb dipping to his mouth, lost in the beauty of his expression, the heavy half-lidded ecstasy of his eyes, the way his mouth hung open to her, his breath coming against her in lovely labors, each one a prayer to her.

She could feel the sweat that had begun to tether her hair to the back of her neck, against her temples and the dip of her jaw--could see the moisture glinting in the darkness on his forehead, in the dip of his clavicle, along his wide shoulders. “That’s it, baby,” he moaned into her, his eyes incandescently sincere, so lovely in this shade she wanted to laugh or scream or cry against him, “I’ll work you out again and again, Princess, I always will, I can’t stand to be away from you, not ever--there’s nothing that feels as perfect as this to me, nothing as perfect as your sweet little body against mine, fu-fuck, I never want it to end, you and me under these fuu-cking stars, divine Kenzie, under this moon, in this heat--I love you, fucking marry me, will you please marry me, Mackenzie, goddess, sweetest of all beings, I love you--will you marry me?”

She was laughing immediately--the moon had fallen outside of its wisping clouds again, and it seemed to be kissing them. Blessing us, she thought. The moon is giving us its blessing. Your timing is perfect, my sweet love. And I will. I fucking will.

“Fuck, yes, fu-uu-ck, goddess, yes, I fucking will, Duncan, yes,” she gasped into him, and now they were both laughing, the gold in her clashing into his sweet, starry blue, her mouth kissing down onto his face, kissing his eyelids, eternal protectors of his impossibly blue eyes, and the bridge of his beautiful straight nose, his trembling lips, his damp cheeks, damp with his sweat and tears--we can just die now, she thought, die in each other’s arms and then this moment will extend into eternity, and it’s enough, it’s more than enough, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted, to be seen by you so utterly, to feel the safety of my heart enshrined in you, you, you, my beautiful Prince, my evening star, you picked the perfect moment--truly, the most perfect moment--and as they came together, lips hopelessly entwined, smiling through tears of holy, astonished bliss, she thought, eyes to heaven, stars, sing, fucking sing for us--if I’m an angel, I have my wings again, made of a thousand blue butterflies. They’re you. You’re my wings, Duncan Shepherd.

------

The moon was dipping lower southwest by the time they gathered the blanket and quilt up, dressed between ardent, sleepy kisses, piled the remnants of their dinner on the tray, and made their way back up the sloping hill towards the house. The sky had clouded over more than before; it was clear for us, just for that amount of time, our stargazing, our enchanted sleep, our desperate passion, and the perfect moment--so wonderfully, desperately perfect--for him to ask me to belong to him as I knew he wanted to, for him to ask to belong to me, Kenzie thought, drifting against him with tired steps, her head brushing into his arm, his face leaning down to rest against the top of her head as their fingers tangled together, golden bracelets touching; she could feel his own tiredness, feel his longing to hold her entwined in his arms and sleep with her, long, lost, and gone from the world in the golden-soft bed.

As they came over the crest of the hill to the line of trees, Kenzie could see the fire pit still burning; the hickory logs were half gone now, the fire bluish-gold and black-tangerine. “You made a good fire, baby,” she whispered to him, staring up at his shoulder; Duncan smiled at her, sleepy, sincere, lovely beyond all words she could imagine inside this moment.

“I’m so happy, Kenzie,” he replied, his voice sweetly low--Kenzie longed for the moment they would collapse into the bed soon as she heard it, her mind already fixated on their sleep, the quiet halo of his arms and the scent of him in the dark bedroom. “That’s why the fire came out of me so bright--my body is full of it. The fire you’ve built inside me. Mackenzie Shepherd.”

Kenzie grinned at that, stepping ahead of him onto the deck, setting the tray down. “That’s gonna take some getting used to,” she replied. “It still sounds like Annette to me.”

“Well, Momby said herself, it’s not the name--it’s what you do with it.”

“Dunny,” Kenzie’s breath caught and she paused, turning to him. He was still holding the blankets in his arms, standing at the bottom of the steps, and his hair was tossed by their passions, by sweat and sleep. He’s so beautiful inside this moment; his goodness is shining out of him, glowing. I can see your halo now too, my sweet Hades--the one you kept hidden for so long. “You called her Momby. Oh. I love that so much. She’ll cry. She loves you so much, Duncan. Momby loves you so much. She’s going to fucking scream when we tell her.”

“And I love her. I figured--since she’ll really be my mother-in-law now--that she’ll give me her blessing to use her real name.”

“She definitely will. You don’t need to ask. Just wait till you see her face when she hears you call her Momby. Oh, baby--”

She stepped to him, desperate to feel him--clutched his face, the prickle at his jaw.

“I love you, Duncan Malcolm Shepherd.”

“As I love you, Mackenzie Louise Shepherd.”

I dunno, she thought, as Duncan’s lips lifted up to hers, where she hovered above him on the steps, on his kiss the sweet scent of woodsmoke, salt, and jasmine. I think I like it. I really do. Mackenzie Shepherd.

“Let’s try it together this time, baby.” Kenzie pulled one of the quilts from his arms, tucking it between her elbows against her stomach, and grasped his hands. “Let’s move to the bedroom right now. I wanna see if we can do it while we’re touching. Like this.”

A gleeful curiosity came into Duncan’s eyes, and he nodded. “Ready?”

“Ready for anything, baby.”

Kenzie closed her eyes; she focused on the comforting, constant pressure of Duncan’s large hands holding hers, the ever-gentle reassurance of his body close by. Let’s go to bed, she thought, and she felt his mind meld against hers--the thread of him, tied around her. Yes, sweet Kenzie. To bed.

The air shifted--the sweet smell of the hickory wood, the lifting night, the sweet grass dissipated--and then there was only the sound of the wind drifting, slight, against the gauzy curtains, and spring peepers out on the lake, very far off. Kenzie opened her eyes. Duncan was smiling at her; the smile of an angel. Where is your crown of flowers, my sweet Prince of Heaven, she thought. Here you are, unshrouded, radiant.

“We did it,” he whispered. He dropped the blanket from under his arm to a heap on the floor--gathered her up against him, pulling the quilt away from her--and carried her to the bed, his arms lifting her as though she were made of the soft blankets herself, easily, so sweetly, with a tenderness that brought a drifting, tingling contentment along her entire body, from the tip of her head to the bottom of her toes; hold me, beloved, forevermore. Duncan buried his face against her, and she knew they wouldn’t need to speak any more words out loud tonight. We did it--you and me. We moved through space and time. Together. Because it’s this love that brought all this magic into our lives. Everything else flows out from this love.

A little while later, their faces was washed, their teeth brushed, and they were naked, wiped clean of sweat and the residue of their come with damp cloths. Her back was pressed against his warm, bare torso in the golden-soft bed, his hand clasped in hers between her breasts, and Kenzie lay listening to the soft sound of Duncan’s measured, dreaming breath, feeling the tickle of it on her neck, and the gentle pulse of his heartbeat between her shoulders. She could sense that sunrise was not far off as she drifted away to sleep, inside the haven of his arms. Something’s coming tomorrow, she knew. But she wasn’t afraid; she welcomed it. Come destiny. Come. We’re ready.

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