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quietasasanctuarymouse · 3 years

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Season 1 Episode 6 ~ Nubbins

5.47:

Will: Am I reading a personal relationship?

Magnus: I don’t want to see his sacrifice go to waste.

“Um, speaking of personal relationships…”

“Yes, Will?” She always found herself wanting to chuckle at his bashfulness over certain things, and had to keep reminding herself just how very young he was.

“Rowan. Uh,” he scratched nervously at the nape of his neck. “Do you regret not going with her when she asked you to?”

“Ah, William. Now there’s a word I try very hard not to use given my predilection for a very long life, though I do find it does still apply sometimes despite my best efforts.”

“Do you not wish you had gone with her then, when you had the chance? I mean, it seems obvious that you had feelings for her, and you’ve been rather happy to have her around here the last few weeks. Who knows what might have happened between the two of you if you had said yes. She might never have left…”

“Will, she’s one of my dearest and oldest friends. When you’ve been alive for a century and a half, you don’t have many of those left. Of course I’m happy she’s here. And yes, I found her very attractive, and we shared a few intimate moments in my youth. That does not mean there was anything there more than some conventionally rebellious physicality. She’s a hell of a kisser, but you don’t build your life around something like that. I’ve had my work- my father’s before me- for a long time, it has been the important pursuit of my lifetime, and I still have so much yet left to do. I couldn’t run away with her then, and I can’t do so now. As to her leaving, I don’t know why she left, so I can’t speak to whether it would have changed anything or not.” She sighed. How did you explain such life decisions made from the perspective of forever to someone who had barely lived any time at all and who’s peak was little better than half what you’d already put under your belt? “I’m happy with my life, Will, and I’m proud of my accomplishments. Rowan seems to have found similar fulfillment in whatever she’s been pursuing for the last century.”

Will looked at her a bit helplessly. He couldn’t understand it any better than Magnus could explain it, and he was beginning to feel that he’d made a bit of a rookie move in even asking her the question in the first place.

“No, Will, I wouldn’t change it,” she stated with certainty.

He nodded. That he could understand.

7.46:

Will: So you’re going to go through with the postmortem?

Magnus: Of course. If his claims are unfounded, well there’s no harm in fulfilling the man’s final request.

She peered over Will’s shoulder to the woman curled on the far corner of the sofa. “Care to assist?”

“Absolutely,” Rowan smiled. “It’s been far too long since we shared a scalpel.”

11.50:

Will: I’m, uh, I’m gonna go to bed.

Helen: Sweet dreams.

Will: Don’t forget to put out the fire.

Helen: I never do.

Will: Alright. Okay.

As Will left her office, Helen found herself wondering what had just come over her. She had never felt attracted to him before, yet she now found herself in desperate need of a long cold shower. It must just be the inevitable longing that comes from an extended amount of time without companionship and he just happened to be who was sitting in front of her when it hit. Yes, that must be all it was. She extinguished the fire and headed down the hall to her room. She wasn’t tired and she was still filled with a deep yearning, so on the whims of her desire she lit the dozens of candles scattered about her room and, after stripping out of all her clothes, she slipped into a silken dressing gown she had picked up several decades ago in Japan. She hadn’t worn it in an age, she’d had no cause to, but it always made her feel sexy when she was of a mood, and tonight certainly fit the bill. Her heightened senses relished the feel of the smooth fabric slowly sliding down her naked skin; a soft caress across her breasts, over her hips, down her backside and thighs. The hem dropped quietly to the floor in a puddle about her ankles. She strode to the french doors leading onto the balcony off her room and opened them wide, welcoming the cool night breeze with a soft sigh, then settled herself into the oversized armchair before the fireplace. She picked up her worn copy of Jane Austen’s Emma intending to calm the desires burning within the core of her and set this nonsense aside- she had gone much longer than this without before, she could again- when a small gust picked up and brushed the chocolate locks back from the side of her neck and she found herself suddenly and desperately wishing that it were the caress of lips and not the wind. Her deep sapphire eyes fluttered closed at the thought.

There was a soft knock at her door. So quiet if every nerve in her body hadn’t been on edge she’d have sworn she imagined it. Setting her unopened book back on the table, her bare feet danced across the wooden planks of her bedroom floor. Helen swung her chamber door wide, and stopped short, her heart suddenly hammering in her chest.

“I hope I didn’t wake you.” It was Rowan, her scarlet hair a luscious waterfall down her back splashing seductively across her hips. Her emerald eyes were raking every inch of Helen in her rather well fitted kimono, and when her gaze reached those dazzling blue orbs gazing back at her with disbelief she swallowed, hard.

“I was up, usually a night owl,” Helen breathed, almost a whisper.

“Can, uh, can I come in- I mean, um, can we talk?”

Helen stepped aside and extended her arm into the room, “Please.” She closed the door behind Rowan as she entered. “To be quite honest, I had hoped someone might knock at my door tonight, but I rather hadn’t dared think it to be you.”

“Pardon?” Rowan turned a steady gaze upon Helen, who appeared uncharacteristically flustered.

“Sorry, nothing. Please, have a seat,” she indicated the settee flanking the right side of the fireplace. They both sat, not casually and relaxed but rather anxiously and a bit nervous. For a long moment neither one spoke, they just sat staring into each others’ eyes, transfixed and unable to look away.

Finally, after another hard swallow to wet her dry throat, Rowan broke the silence. “I’m sorry, I guess this is really rather inappropriate, barging into your chamber in the middle of the night, unannounced and with no invitation. I just, I really needed to speak with you, privately, and I guess tonight I kind of thought if I didn’t do it now, well….” She trailed off, allowing her eyes to flow down the length of the beauty seated gracefully in front of her, within reach yet oh so far away.

“Rowan, what is it?” Helen straightened her back as she crossed her legs elegantly at the knee, causing the split up the front of her kimono to fall open revealing her left leg all the way up to where her thigh joined her buttocks.

Rowan’s breath caught in her throat and she barely stifled a longing gasp at the sight. What was she doing here, she wondered not for the first time tonight. Her desperate desire for Helen Magnus already ran so deep, and the added sexual impulses of the nubbins made her yearning nigh unbearable. She was completely overwhelmed, and if Helen didn’t feel the same way- no, she couldn’t think like that. She had to just put it out there, or she never would. After all, it’s not like there was ever going to be a better time. “Helen,” just the taste of her name on her tongue sent quivers throughout her body, “do you, by chance, fancy me? I mean, still? I know we had our handful or so of moments back at Oxford, but that was over a century ago and it never really went anywhere to begin with, and I guess I was just wondering, if after all this time, you still look at me that way. Even just a little?” Ugh, you’re babbling, shut up!

Helen realized she’d been staring at the hollow at the base of Rowan’s throat and the soft curve of her collar bone as it disappeared into the edge of her shirt and that Ro had been speaking, but she hadn’t heard a word of it. She looked up to meet the radiant green of the other woman’s eyes, “What?”

Rowan leaped to her feet and paced a few steps past Helen’s startled figure still perched on the edge of the settee, her back firmly to the other woman so she didn’t notice when Helen stood and quietly moved up behind her. Just say it, she screamed inside her own head. Bloody get it out already! Head down in her shaking hands, unable to look at Helen, she began to blurt, “See, the thing is, I love you, Helen. I’ve loved you forever. I know you’ve never felt the same way about me, I haven’t diluted myself into thinking otherwise. But I also know I’ve never told you how I truly feel, and I couldn’t go on not telling you anymore. You were never just a physical diversion for me. You’ve had my heart in your hands from the moment I first saw you in the courtyard all those lifetimes ago. I never stood a chance. You’re the one for me, the only one. You always have been. Never in my five hundred years have I ever felt about anyone the way that I feel for you. You’re the other half of my soul, Helen. I’m deeply, madly, passionately in love with you. I’ve tried to tell you, over and over and over again. I daren’t hope that you return my feelings, I just couldn’t stand another second of you not knowing just how very much you mean to me.” The sudden contact of Helen’s gentle hand on her shoulder was too much to bear on top of everything else, and she just couldn’t contain the urge to touch her any longer. Rowan spun back toward Helen in a flash, her right hand burying itself in the lucious brown waves at the base of Helen’s neck, her left wrapping about her waist pulling her close by the small of her arched back, and she kissed her. Deeply, fiercely, intentionally, passionately. Every fiber of her vibrating with longing and desire. She broke the kiss, panting deeply against Helen’s soft, kiss swollen lips. “Gods, I want you so,” it escaped as nothing more than a gutteral whisper, pure need driving her words.

Helen’s startled cobalt eyes bored into Rowan’s own moss ones as she gasped to catch her breath, her heaving bosom the only part of her body moving at all. “So, take me.”

No sooner had she uttered her reply than Rowan had spun them both across the room and pressed Helen’s back against the wall to the left of the roaring fire. Rowan kissed her again, cradling her face in the palm of her right hand. Then, panting raggedly, she kissed the line of her neck, the hollow of her collar bone, down the plunging V of her kimono, the valley between her breasts, then she traced the same trail back up again. Helen gasped, drawing air in rapid shallow breaths, her nimble fingers working expertly at the buttons down the front of Rowan’s shirt, pulling the tails from her pants, sliding the sleeves down her shoulders, flinging the satin garment to the floor. Rowan’s hands caressed their way up Helen’s stomach to cup her breasts, gingerly brushing nipples standing hard beneath the silk; she closed her mouth around Helen’s once again, feverishly, sliding her tongue slowly over her lower lip, eliciting a shudder of pleasure from the nearly naked woman pressed firmly against her body. Helen’s arms wrapped around her, her hands sliding up and down Rowan’s back, finding the latch to her bra, releasing it with expert swiftness. Her slender fingers slid under the straps across Rowan’s shoulders and carried them down her arms. Caressing her bosom as she grasped the fabric and pulled it away from her chest, freeing those milky pale, heaving mounds. Her eyes transfixed on the sight of Rowan’s uncovered body, glistening in the flickering glow of the candles all about the room. “Dear Lord,” she breathed, her whole body gone still as she stared, taking in the visage before her. “I knew you were beautiful, but…” She gulped, her brilliant blue eyes wide with awe. “Bloody hell.” With renewed hunger, Helen pulled Rowan closer, grasping, kissing, panting.

Lips pressed to Helen’s ear, caressing the lobe with each word, Rowan whispered, “Easy. Slow down. This is your first memory of lying with me. I wish for it to be a memory worthy of you and my feelings for you. I want to take my time, and I want to make sure you feel every second of it.” She slid her hands under Helen’s buttocks, lifting her onto her hips. Instinctively, Helen wrapped her thighs around Rowan’s waist, sitting on her pelvis, pressed against the wall, Rowan’s firm yet soft hands cradling her bum. “Don’t worry, we have all night and I intend to make full use of it.” With that, Rowan turned them away from the wall, walked to the fur rug (faux, of course) adorning the floor before the crackling fire, knelt before the flames and, supporting her with one hand at the small of her back and the other cradling the base of her neck, gently lowered Helen to the floor.

She leaned down over the trembling woman lying beneath her, blood red hair falling in a curtain around them, and kissed her. Slow, steady, deep, lingering. If the first kiss the two women had ever shared was the singular most paramount experience in Helen’s entire life, then this kiss was unequivocally the second. The fingertips of Rowan’s right hand traced the soft, graceful lines of Helen’s face, slipped tenderly through her luscious hair fanning out beneath her, stroked down the elegant stretch of her neck, drew across the length of her collar bone; all while her soft lips caressed the supple fullness of Helen’s, breaths synchronized, inhaling and exhaling through each other in instinctual unison. Rowan parted the kiss, raising her face away from Helen’s, microscopically so, they could still feel each other’s needful breaths hot on their skin. Emerald peered intently into sapphire and sapphire back into emerald again, both wide with longing and sheer inability to believe that after all this time, they were actually here, in each other’s arms. It was really happening, finally.

Never taking her eyes away from Helen’s, Rowan’s fingers trailed ever so slowly down the V of her dressing gown, finding the buttons down her abdomen which held it closed. Sightlessly, she began to unfasten them. One, Helen’s crystal blue eyes widened. Two, her breath hitched in her throat. Three, her breathing resumed, and quickened it’s pace. Four, her belly was quavering with anticipation. Five, a small gasp escaped her lips as the delicate material, no longer bound to her, slowly slipped across her sublime form and slid, open, to the floor at her sides. Her piercing blue eyes were still locked on Rowan’s, and the desire in them was enough to make anyone go mad with want. Slowly, and with great effort, Rowan slowly drew her eyes from Helen’s and down her naked body. She drew in a sharp gasp, and Helen’s breasts shuddered as her shallow breaths came faster under the intensity of Rowan’s gaze taking in the length of her; large, firm, supple mounds, heaving as she admired them; sleek, smooth abdomen hourglassed in at the waist from the ample chest above; flaring out again to round, alluring hips, the delicate lines of strong bones seductively visible through the fine layer of flawless skin; long, luscious legs, the left knee slightly raised as she ran the top of her foot along her inner right calf; the tender, supple mound covered by a fine, neatly trimmed patch of hair. By all the gods, above and below, she was radiant. Never once in her five hundred years had she ever seen anyone so exquisite.

Helen quivered beneath her as Rowan slowly glided her fingers up her arm, over her shoulder, along her collar bone, down her cleavage, across her stomach, around her hip; she was awestruck. Helen watched her dazzled face, the firelit green orbs filled with a wonderment such as she had never before witnessed in the eyes of one gazing at her naked body; it sent chills dancing across her skin. Rowan’s eyes came back to rest on Helen’s again as she leaned down to kiss her once more, the weight of her body sinking into Helen’s, the press of flesh meeting flesh unhindered by clothing. Helen’s arms wrapped themselves around Rowan’s back, her hands finding her bare shoulder blades, fingertips gripping tight, pulling the other woman closer against her, their breasts caressing each other, attentive nipples brushing together; Rowan’s kisses became fiercer, more fevered; panting against her lover’s hungry mouth, Helen’s hands slipped to Rowan’s waist and, trembling, unfastened her pants, pulling them down her hips with both palms firmly sliding down her smooth buttcheeks. Rowan broke their fervent kisses long enough to kneel up, allowing Helen to pull her pants the rest of the way off her body, sliding Helen’s dressing gown off her shoulders at the same time. She slid one arm under Helen’s back lifting her up, Helen arching into another passionate, panting kiss as Rowan’s other hand flung the kimono across the room where it slid, forgotten, under Helen’s bed. The last of the clothing separating them now abandoned.

Rowan pressed her love’s body back to the floor with the full length of hers, hands sliding up her arms, guiding Helen’s wrists above her head, holding them there with her right hand, propping herself up with her left planted firmly in the fur of the rug at Helen’s side. A slight slide of her right knee pressed her thigh between Helen’s legs, bringing a quick gasp, and the tongue dancing across one nipple and then the other elicited short cries of pleasure. Ever so slowly, the full length of Rowan’s tongue flicked across Helen’s fully erect nipple, drawing it into her mouth as she closed her lips around it, sucking gently, her teeth lightly closed on the swell of breast just at the nipple’s base, allowing her to continue to flick her tongue across the swollen nib of flesh. This tore low moans from the throats of both women, naked and tangled together on the floor before the fire. Rowan settled her hips firmly between Helen’s thighs, pulling her left knee up to rest on her hip bone, allowing Rowan to press even closer to her. Her left hand then followed the curve of her bum, across her sensuous hip, up the edge of her flat stomach, the palm coming to rest cupping the underside of Helen’s right breast, nipple gingerly rolling between thumb and forefinger. She kissed up the length of the front of her neck drawing rapid pants from her already quavering bosom and pressed her mouth once again to Helen’s, parting her lips with her tongue, sliding it into her mouth and caressing Helen’s own. Helen moaned, low and deep, and arched her back into the kiss, pressing Rowan’s hand firmer onto her breast. Her arms once again wrapped their way around the naked form of the woman on top of her, gripping the flesh of her back with her fingertips, her left leg wrapping under her bum as she straddled her from beneath.

Rowan once again broke their kiss, moving her face back just enough to focus intently on Helen’s wanting eyes. She began to slide her right hand down the center of Helen’s abdomen, slowly crawling it’s way toward the space between her thighs. Helen’s quick, panting breathes unconsciously held in her chest, her bright eyes boring into Rowan’s full of anticipation. Rowan’s second finger slowly slid into the warm, wet folds of the split between Helen’s legs quickly finding and gently massaging the engorged bump of flesh at the top; eyes never leaving Helen’s face, for she wished to see every second of the response her touch elicited. Helen’s eyes widened and she drew in a sharp breath, at the same time emitting a cry of pleasure; Rowan’s whole body shuddered at the feel of Helen’s naked form responding under her touch. She continued to watch the firelit face of her lover as she twirled and circled the pad of her finger faster, still just the barest of pressures, but Helen was dripping and Rowan knew the change of speed was all she needed to bring Helen over the edge.

Helen’s hips were gyrating against Rowan’s hand, her gasps coming more and more often as moans. She was close, but Rowan didn’t just want to watch it, she wanted to feel it. Sliding down the split, Rowan pushed her first two fingers deep into Helen, stretching, reaching for that spot at the back where a simple rapid flutter of fingertips would drive her mad. Helen’s eyes flew wide and she wrapped her left hand around the back of Rowan’s neck, pulling her lover’s panting lips to her own. She moaned, loud and long, kissing Rowan with desperation, rocking her hips onto Rowan’s outstretched fingers, eyes firmly locked with Rowan’s all the while. Rowan’s thumb found the nub of soft, pliant flesh and began to stroke it, up and down, up and down, faster, faster, faster; her fingers pushing deeper, their tips rubbing the sensitive place on the top side of Helen’s wetness, pressing further, harder, faster; her thumb spinning small circles as she continued to stroke up and down; her left hand gently pinching and pulling at the nipple still firmly grasped between thumb and forefinger; deeper, faster, tighter circles, up and down, faster, a bit more pressure now. Helen’s pants were now moaning cries, the occasional barely intelligible ‘yes, yes’ escaping her lips. She gripped tighter, pulling Rowan’s face closer, nails biting into flesh ever so sweetly where her fingertips clung to Rowan’s back. Just a little more, almost there. Her thumb stroked faster, faster, faster, faster; her fingers pressed deep as they could go, pushing and flicking mercilessly at the roof of their drenched chamber, rocking her hips against Helen in time with her own gyrations; her hand squeezed firm breast and her fingers pinched tighter at the plump nipple, giving a steady tug.

Helen’s breathing sped to super sonic speeds, her back arched, her eyes going wide, “Oh, oh, oh!” she stuttered as her whole body gave a shudder. She clung to Rowan for dear life, every muscle tensed and seized, her breath caught. She cried out, the flesh surrounding Rowan’s fingers spasmed, clenched, loosened, clenched again, a shiver coursed through her body as she gasped and moaned long and low pressed against Rowan’s mouth, seeing stars in the eyes that never lost focus of Rowan’s large emeralds. Rowan’s entire body quaked, riding the wave of Helen’s ecstasy clamped firmly around her flesh. Another spasm wracked Helen’s body, nethers outward, crying out again, her breath pulled in ragged gasps, and as the intensity of the wave subsided, her body relaxed, flopping to the floor, quaking from head to toe, biting her lower lip, blue eyes gaping up at Rowan in wonder. “Bloody hell,” she smiled breathlessly.

Rowan lay motionless, drowning in the depths of Helen’s sea blue eyes, soaking in the feel of their skin colliding, slick with sweat. “My gods, you’re beautiful,” she whispered against Helen’s mouth as she leaned in to kiss her again, deep and long. When their lips parted, both women came up gasping for air. Sitting back on her heels, Rowan’s hands caressed the length of Helen’s bare flesh, settling into a firm grip on her hips and lifting her fluidly onto her lap. Her hands coursing up her back, fingers plunging into her arousingly tousled hair, kissing her soft breasts, the valley between, her shoulders, her lithe neck, the strong line of her jaw. Helen’s back arched long and graceful in response to the whispered kisses, her own fingers clawing at Rowan’s smooth back, her hips rocking and swaying, rubbing herself against Rowan in a seductive dance of desire. Palms cradling the contours of her shoulder blades, Rowan pulled Helen tight against her, breasts pressed together, sliding sensually, glistening in the firelight. Helen’s long fingers slid their way into Rowan’s waterfall of ruby hair, she was enthralled by the thick silky feel of it, she was enthralled by the feel of everything about Rowan. She could hardly believe they were here, together, now, doing this; she couldn’t at all believe how amazing it was, in all her wildest dreams of lying with Rowan- of which there had been many- what it would be like, how it would feel… none of them ever even came close. She couldn’t get enough of her, she grasped her breasts firmly in her hands, kissing her neck, the curve of her shoulder, sliding her tongue across the arch of her collar bone. Rowan’s nipples were stiff against her palms and as she brushed across them with her fingertips, they responded attentively to her caresses. She wanted to feel Rowan gasp and shudder as she had just done, she wanted to make her gasp and shudder. To touch her in such a way that her body filled with so much pleasure it would be too much to contain, and it would break free and spill over, pouring forth in a screaming moment of ecstasy. She wanted to watch Rowan’s eyes widen and roll back in her head, feel her body tremble and convulse, hear her lips pant and moan- with desire, with need, with release. She wanted her hands, her lips, her tongue, her fingers to be the reason for it.

She bent her head and kissed the mounds of flesh she gripped in her hands, licking across their tops, the groove where they met, the tender nipples that stood out from them in hard desire, drawing her teeth ever so gently across one, curious the response it would draw- she was arousingly surprised by the low moan her mouth pulled from the lips of her lover and the tightening of the grip on her shoulder blades, the firm press of nails dizzyingly erotic as they slid down her back. Still nibbling and licking at her nipples, Helen’s right hand trailed down her navel, brushing through the short fine hairs, pressing against the groove in the swell of flesh between her parted legs. Rowan’s head was thrown back, her eyes closed, lashes fluttering against her cheeks, breath fast and shallow. As exquisite as it was to have Rowan’s hands on her, Helen found that her arousal was even more intense now that she was touching Rowan, and she knew she would be leaving no place untouched tonight. She pressed harder against the groove in Rowan’s mound, as it yielded, her fingers sliding between those soft lips, their tips brushing against the throbbing nub of flesh at its peak, she was delighted to find that Rowan was soaked with desire. Her fingers slid nimbly and freely, stroking and caressing her plump bud, dancing circles across it, tapping rapidly at its tip making it vibrate; all the while watching Rowan’s radiant face, listening to her aroused utterances with elation. Unable to stand the anticipation any longer, Helen slowly slid her fingers inside Rowan, her pulse quickening and a desperate moan falling from her own lips at the feel of her. Pressing deeper, she could feel Rowan’s pounding heartbeat pulsing rapidly against her fingertips, she licked her lips, kissed her way up Rowan’s neck to her supple lips, eyes alight with longing.

“Oh, gods. I love the way you feel,” Rowan whispered against her lips, kissing her fiercely as she slid her own hand between Helen’s legs, pushing her fingers deep inside her. They sat, one stradling the other, fingers working within each other, thumbs stroking tenderly, hips rocking and swaying in unison, spare hands fisted in each others’ hair, breathing into each other, tongues twined together, exhaling moans as they brought each other closer and closer to climax.

Helen had never felt anything as exquisite as Rowan deep within her as she pressed herself further into Rowan. The sensation was as if there was no separation between the two women as they rocked and pressed and panted against each other, as if they were, in fact, one single, fluid being. Their hearts thrummed in unison, chests pressed together, beating from inside and outside both. Every whisper of flesh, every heartbeat of lips, held her entirely in thrall. There was no thought, no time, no world. Only the two of them floating in the endless euphoria of their own passions.

Their thumbs stroked faster, their fingers pushed deeper, their hips rocked onto each other harder. Their kisses broke apart, they were both gasping too much to sustain them. Both grabbing for breasts, their eyes locked, staring into the bliss they were creating for each other, their bodies on fire with it. They worked against and in each other harder, deeper, faster; their urgency growing stronger, drowning in one another’s gaze, their flesh keeping them afloat. Their movements desperate, more more more more. Moaning more than breathing now, harder, faster, gods please more.

Helen thought she would burst from need, then-

They both went ridgid, though their working hands never faltered, they each drew in sharp breaths, their eyes wide and boring into the other, the flesh of their insides tightening making the feel of the fingers working within more intense. Shudders racked their bodies, they cried out in unison, spasming muscles clenching together, their bodies shaking against each other as they rode the wave of orgasm pressed together as long as they could make it last- the pleasure of the other heightening and extending their own. Mouths pressed tightly together in panting, fevered kisses, they fed off of each other’s climax again and again, every time it started to subside, another wave crashing over them. Again and again and again. They gasped for air, eyes alight with euphoria, clinging to each other. Panting and shaking, a great shiver ran through them once more drawing another cry from their lips. As it passed, their muscles gave way all at once, and they collapsed together, the sweating, naked form of the other the only thing holding them up.

Exhausted and satisfied, they fell to the floor spent, Rowan laying atop Helen, eyes closed, lips smiling, giggling softly with elation.

“Dear Lord,” Helen said finally, breathless. “Is this what I was missing out on all those years ago?” She grinned happily.

“Oh, Darling,” Rowan propped herself up on one elbow, absently caressing the flesh of Helen’s shoulder, chest, abdomen with the fingers of her other hand, tracing invisible patterns in her skin. “I highly doubt we would have been like that all those years ago,” she smiled down at Helen’s sex flushed face. “There are some things that a bit of life experience counts an awful lot for.”

Helen laughed, nodding, “I’ll give you that.” She arched her back and stretched happily, like a sleepy kitten lying in the sun. “Mmmm, I never would have imagined. Perhaps the century of anticipation worked a bit in our favor as well.” She reached a hand up and stroked the hair falling beside Rowan’s glistening face, running her fingers over and over through those thick silken waves of fire, her shining blue eyes searching the face hovering above her, “Where have you been, Rowan?”

Rowan tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair away from Helen’s forehead, running her fingertips down her cheek, “My heart has been with you every second. I never left you.” She spoke with sincerity and conviction.

Helen’s searching eyes found nothing but utter truth written across Rowan’s open face. She wrapped her arms around her, drawing her down to meet her waiting lips, the kiss filled with passion and emotion she hadn’t even known she held for the enigmatic faery who seemed to magically appear in her life right when she needed her to most, every single time.

Their naked flesh pressed and slid together, finding its own natural rhythm, dancing together in harmony. Rowan pressing closer to Helen, Helen’s legs instinctually wrapping about Rowan’s waist, drawing her down. Their tongues entwined, their hands caressing.

Rowan peered down into the radiant face of her life’s love. “Fancy some more?” she grinned mischievously.

“Mmm, God yes!” Helen pulled her back down into another passionate kiss, arching her back and thrusting her hips up to meet her. Hands flowing over her body, fondling all the sensitive bits, aching for the feel of her, inside and out. She rolled her body, holding Rowan tight as she did flipping her onto her back on the floor, Helen on top sitting astride her lover, supporting herself with hands pressed to Rowan’s panting chest, grinning triumphantly down upon the startled look of surprise on Rowan’s face.

“I imagine most folks would tell you if you wanted to be on top, all you had to do was ask. But I’m rather aroused by that aggressive display of dominance. Please, do continue,” she pushed herself onto her elbows, kissing Helen’s chest, her neck.

For a moment Helen relished the heat of her lips on her skin, but it was her turn now, and she found herself newly wet at the revelation that it turned Rowan on for her to take control. She gave her a forceful push back to the floor, one hand pinning a wrist above her head, the other hand grasping the soft length of her throat, holding her in place with a wicked grin as she bent to kiss her again. Oh! she couldn’t get enough of her lips, kissing Rowan was like drowning on the air that kept your lungs filled with life.

The unexpected turn this enthralling night had taken drew a deep, guttural growl from Rowan’s mouth, the sensation of being pinned to the ground by Helen’s sexy naked body was hot. Seriously hot. She allowed her body to relax, submitting to Helen’s take charge attitude, which visibly heightened Helen’s arousal, she moaned against Rowan’s mouth, releasing her grip on her wrist and sliding her hand underneath herself and into the crevice between Rowan’s legs. Her fingers expertly massaging Rowan’s swollen bump of flesh, she rocked her hips vigorously against her own wrist pressed tightly into her own mound, working both of them at once.

The sight of Helen pleasuring herself sent a shudder coursing through Rowan’s body, knowing that she was the source of arousal causing such an act was even more pleasurable. She began to rock and sway her own hips in time with the rapid movements of Helen’s deft fingertips quickly bringing her to climax. She moaned into the kisses Helen poured over her lips, her pleasure rising, feeling herself coming closer and closer to-

A sharp knock at the door.

Both women froze, eyes wide in surprise, stifling their ragged breathing.

The knock came again. More insistent.

“Damn!” Helen whispered.

A voice floated through the door, “Doc? Uh, Doc, are you in there?” Henry.

“Bloody double damn!” Helen scrambled off Rowan, trying to smooth her hair, searching the floor frantically. “Where’s my gown?” she hissed quietly.

Rowan visually searched the room, her eyes coming to rest on an edge of silk peeking out from under the four poster bed in the center of the opposite wall. She scrambled over to it, scooping it up and wrapping it hastily around Helen’s naked form, still gleaming with fresh beads of sweat.

“Hide,” Helen said, quickly.

“What?” Rowan couldn’t suppress her shock.

Another knock on the door. “Uh, Boss?”

“Just a moment, Henry,” she called as casually as she could manage.

“Hide, please. …. Ashley, I-” Helen’s eyes were pleading.

Rowan nodded, heading for the balcony.

“Wait, your clothes!”

Rowan swept them up in her arms, stepped out the open door onto the balcony, and pressed herself against the wall on the far side of the doorframe. With an effort, she managed to slow her breathing enough to not be heard, though it was a very good thing Henry’s allergies were haywire at the moment because the smell of their affair was all over the room even without the senses of a wolf.

Composing herself as best as she could manage, Helen opened the door to her chamber, leaving nothing but empty air to greet Henry’s once again raised fist.

“Uh,” he looked rather awkward and uncomfortable. “Hi, Doc.”

“What is it, Henry?”

“Uh, Doc, I really think you oughta come. The nubbins… Well, I’m not really sure. You should come see this.”

“All right, Henry. Give me a few moments to get dressed, and I’ll be right there.”

Henry’s cheeks flared bright red and he swallowed a gulp, obviously just noticing the rather revealing nature of Helen’s gown. “Sure, Boss, right. Of course. I’ll just- go wait for you downstairs. Sorry.” He disappeared quickly down the otherwise empty hallway, still stammering as he went.

Closing the door after him, Helen slumped against it in relief. That had been close. Too close. Maybe they should remember to use Rowan’s chambers in the future. The future, what a luscious thought. Was this to happen again? She hoped so. It had been quite the experience, though she was still a bit on edge from coming so close before being interrupted, as was Rowan, probably. Rowan! “He’s gone,” she called softly out the open door.

Rowan stepped back into Helen’s room, her clothes clutched against her naked chest. “Is everything all right?” she asked, her eyes full of concern.

“I’m really not sure. Something’s happened with the nubbins. I have to go see to this. Will you be alright?”

“Of course,” Rowan smiled at her. It was an easy sort of smile, calming and carefree. It made Helen’s knees weak. “You’ve got work to do, I understand. Besides, I should really take a shower, anyway. A cold one.”

Helen flashed her a sympathetic smile, one that said she was sorry they had been unable to finish their latest interlude. Stepping into her pants, Rowan smiled back at her, one that said it was okay, she understood. She closed the distance between them and brushed a lingering kiss up the side of Helen’s neck. Drawing her shirt over her arms, buttoning just enough of it to cover herself, she smiled again, this one said she’d find Helen later, it said they’d continue where they left off.

Helen gave her a playful smack on the rump as she brushed past her and out the door. Quickly donning a far more appropriate outfit, she headed down to the nubbins’ enclosure to see what all the fuss was about.

14.12

Sophie: Why should I believe a single thing you tell me?

Magnus: Sophie, we find ourselves in a very rare situation. I’m about to do something that I normally wouldn’t even consider.

Sophie: I don’t understand. What?

Magnus: You will shortly. Will, would you be so kind as to show our guest around?

Will: Uh, yeah. Sure.

Helen sat at her desk, hardly able to believe what she had just done. But what else was there to do? After all, Sophie was almost surely an abnormal in her own right, and she had been brought up with knowledge of the Sanctuary given to her by her abnormal grandfather. She was scared and alone and confused. She had a right to answers. As absurd as the decision was, it was the right one. Of this, Helen had no doubt.

“How did it go?” Rowan entered from the side door, dropping a soft kiss on Helen’s cheek as she sat against the edge of the desk.

Helen smiled at her, “She’s getting the tour.”

“Oh?” Rowan raised her eyebrows, and with a sly smile she pulled Helen from her chair. “I’d rather enjoy taking a tour of my own.”

“Would you now?” Wrapping her arms around Rowan’s neck, she kissed her longingly. “I believe that can be arranged.”

Rowan’s arms circled Helen’s waist, her fingers deftly sliding the hem of her dress up to her voluptuous hips. Still locked in a deep kiss, she turned them around and lifted Helen onto the edge of her desk. Drawing her panties slowly down her legs, she sank to her knees in front of her. Hands firmly gripping her hips, Helen’s right knee bent over her shoulder, Rowan leaned into the space where her tender thighs met, her outstretched tongue pressing hungrily into the slit of her supple mound.

Helen uttered a gasp of surprise, her eyes fluttering closed, the fingers of her left hand tangling into Rowan’s thick hair, her back arched, extending her hips into the press of the soft dexterous mouth feeding from her. She held onto the lip of the desk with her right hand, the firm grip of her left holding Rowan’s head tight between her legs.

Rowan’s silky tongue slipped up and down Helen’s crease in long, slow strokes. Pressing harder, it teased against the mouth of her opening, just the tip pushing gently inside and retreating again. Slightly deeper in and back out, deeper in and back out. Helen’s body readily responded by coating the unexpected visitor with an abundance of slick fluid, generously wetting the rest of her groove. Rowan slowly removed her tongue from the warm canal and slid it across the erect bud of flesh above it, now dripping with anticipation. First long, slow strokes with the full length of the flat of her tongue, then faster, shorter flicks with just the tip.

Helen’s hips rocked and swayed against the mouth drinking her in, her chest heaving with shallow panting gasps. Soft moans escaping her throat, she urged Rowan on with the fingers tightly wound through her long, soft hair. The stroke length of the quick flicks up down, up down, up down, were now so short that Helen’s swollen nub was now vibrating under the talents of Rowan’s delicious tongue. Short, soft cries tore from her throat, her legs trembling with pleasure. Head thrown back, eyes pressed tightly shut, she watched spots dance across the insides of her eyelids, her navel trembling with need and desire. She gasped with pleasure at the unexpected sensation of two long, nimble fingers plunging deep inside her, their tips pressing fervently into that secret little place at the back of her that caused her the most incredible feeling.

Strong fingers probing her depths, supple tongue expertly working the tender nib which had shed its hood, exposing every nerve to Rowan’s talents. God, it felt so good, Helen could hardly stand it, and she craved more. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. God, please don’t stop!” fell from her lips over and over in breathy pants.

Rowan’s face pressed deeper between her quaking thighs, tongue speeding faster, fingers pressed to the back of her.

“Oh, God! Please! Don’t stop! I’m so close, oh God, I’m gonna-” Her words broke apart as her hips pressed forward around Rowan’s fingers, onto her tongue, back arched sharper, legs trembling against the sides of her face. She kept her volume down, but her utterances weren’t gasps or cries, they were screams of ecstasy. Rowan felt the orgasmic sensation of the flesh inside of Helen pressing tightly closed around her penetrating fingers, spasming violently as her climax peaked, and Rowan thrust deeper, her tongue licking harder, faster, extending the wave of release crashing over Helen. She cried out again, her whole body shaking as the muscles in her root tightened, drawing her forward in a hunched, quaking ball wrapped tightly about Rowan’s head and shoulders as she came and came and came again. Her taut muscles quivered and released, leaving her heaving breasts gasping desperately for breath.

Rowan stood between her still shaking legs, providing her own breast for Helen, whose limbs had turned to gelatin, to collapse against. Her heart thundered beneath Helen’s ear and she stroked her hair and kissed the top of her spinning, star-filled head.

The sound of footfalls approaching from down the corridor brought them back to the world. With a quick kiss brushed across lips, Rowan slipped quietly out the door she had entered and Helen lept from her desk, turned, and settled back into her chair, drawing her panties up from her knees and back to her waist where they belonged.

Moments later, the Big Guy poked his head through the far door, “Helen, we’ve got a problem.”

She stood quickly, coming around the side of her desk.

His nose twitched, he sniffed at the air, his eyes fell on her, questioning.

She shook her head definitively. Don’t.

He offered her a low growl as she stepped past him out the door, following her down the hall, but he said nothing.

29.11

Magnus: Haven’t you noticed it?

Will: Are you asking me if I’ve been feeling… randy?

Magnus: I’ve made you uncomfortable.

Will: No, as a matter of fact, you’ve, uh… you’ve aroused my curiosity.

Magnus: Oh. Well… turnabout is fair play.

Will: Awkward.

Magnus: Poor thing.

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna go check on how things are going with Henry. Uh, yeah,” a flush colored Will’s cheeks as he left the office.

“You shouldn’t tease the boy so, Helen. You’re liable to give him a complex.” Rowan flashed a cheshire grin up at the intoxicating woman standing above her. “Me, on the other hand, I rather enjoy arousing you.”

“Do you, now?” Helen bent over her on the sofa, her dark hair falling in a curtain around their faces. She leaned forward, kissing Rowan lightly, teasingly.

“Mmm, quite, yes.” She drew Helen onto the couch on top of her, left fingers laced through her hair, right hand finding its way up her abdomen from her hip to her breast. Returning Helen’s light, teasing kisses with deep, lingering ones of her own. Helen responded instantly to her touch, soft sighs and quiet moans escaping her lips pressed against Rowan’s mouth. “How am I doing so far?” Rowan smiled.

“Mm, job well done, I’d say,” Helen breathed, looking down at her lover, captivated by her enchanting emerald eyes, sparkling wickedly.

Rowan tucked a lock of hair behind Helen’s right ear. “Helen? Is that why we’re doing this? I mean, is it why you’re doing this? The pheromones?”

“What?” Helen was caught off guard by the question, but slowly understanding dawned. “Wait, you think I’ve only... Because of the nubbins?” Her eyes softened, and she tenderly brushed Rowan’s face with the pads of her fingers. “Do you see me running off to Will’s bedchamber since the nubbins arrived? Yes, the pheromones accentuate people’s feelings and their responses. But they don’t induce behaviour that wouldn’t otherwise happen. We’re all still very much in control of our own actions.” She smiled sweetly, cupping Rowan’s cheek with her palm. “I’m doing this because I want to, Rowan. The presence of the nubbins may have lowered my inhibitions a bit, but it didn’t force me into anything. I want to be with you. I want you. I wouldn’t change what’s happened the last couple of days for anything. Well,” a sly grin spread across her tantalizing lips, “a few less interruptions, maybe. But the us naked bits? Perfection.”

Rowan pulled her down against her, the full length of their bodies pressed together, breathing as one in a flurry of passionate kisses.

31.22

Magnus: We have them contained right now, but if they get out and this expands beyond the Sanctuary, we could be ground zero for a plague of furry locusts. We have to act, and quickly.

Ashley and Will left the office with their marching orders, Helen stared, frustrated, at the data on her screens. Rowan came up behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist, pulling Helen’s back firmly against her, hands resting on Helen’s navel, chin on her shoulder. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are when you’re laying down the law like that?” She showered gentle kisses down the side of her neck. “What can I do to help?”

Helen leaned back into her, her own hands covering Rowan’s, drinking in the feel of her. “Mmm, well, you can keep that up, for one,” she smiled.

“What?” Rowan kissed her neck again, slower. “This?” Her lips caressed the tender place behind the lobe of Helen’s left ear. “Keep doing this?” She licked across the pulse point under her jawline, giving it just the tenderest little nibble as she left a lingering kiss there, too.

“Yeah, that. That helps.” Helen took just a moment longer to bask in the feeling before clearing her throat and refocusing on the task at hand. “We’re going to try releasing the predator that came in on the ship with the nubbins, see if we can corral them. You could help Henry with the bag and capture.”

“Whatever you need. As long as you make me a promise.”

Helen turned in Rowan’s arms, holding her face in her hands, smiling into her eyes. “What is it?”

“Be safe. Please. You have a bit of a reckless streak, don’t tell me you don’t. I need you to be safe.”

“Of course. You too, okay?”

Rowan nodded. They kissed each other, deep and lingering, before heading in opposite directions.

42.50

Magnus: I think we know what your grandfather wanted for you.

Sophie: Yeah. I guess, in a way, he’ll always be guiding me.

Magnus: And so will we.

“Come on,” Will said. “I’ll walk you out.”

Sophie followed Will to the door of the office. Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled, “Thank you, Dr. Magnus. For everything.”

“My pleasure,” Magnus smiled in return.

Rowan entered from the other door as Will and Sophie’s footsteps faded down the hall. Standing in front of Helen, her arms laced around her waist, she smiled at her, “Well done, you.”

“Oh, pish tosh. Just another day at the office.”

“You avoided a potential plague of furry biblical proportions, you engineered a habitat that allows you to research fascinating mating and lifecycle you’ve never had the chance to observe before, you solved the mystery of an undiagnosed abnormal, and you gave that sweet girl answers to lifetime long questions that she never could have gotten anywhere else. I’d call that a bit more than just your average day.”

Relenting, Helen smiled, “Well, all right then. Maybe just a bit.”

Rowan kissed the teasing bare flesh of the right side of Helen’s neck, slowly working her way toward her ear, lips brushing gently against her lobe as she whispered, “I’m proud of you.”

She could feel Helen’s grin break across her face as she wrapped her arms tightly around Rowan’s neck. Then she felt Helen’s lips brush against her own ear, whispering, “Shall we take this to my room and find out how it feels without supercharged nubbin pheromones in the air?” Helen let out a delighted squeal as Rowan picked her up and whisked her down the hall.

#sanctuary #helen magnus #will zimmerman #henry foss #ashley magnus #fanfic #nsftumblr

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quietasasanctuarymouse · 3 years

Text

Season 1 Episode 5 1/2 ~ Settling In

Rowan burst into the study, startling Helen who was standing at her desk. “Dear gods, Helen. What happened?” she questioned, wrapping her in her arms, holding her tightly. “You could have died up there,” she held her face in her hands, panic written plainly in her eyes. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Rowan, what’s gotten into you?”

Her face paled as she realized the error she had made in her worried lack of judgement. They were not paramours, not even casual lovers. She was Helen’s dear old friend, survived from an era long past. The woman in her arms in front of her saw her as nothing more. Heat rising to her cheeks, she let go of Helen as if her hands had been burned. “I’m sorry, I was just so worried when I heard what had happened, and I’m relieved to see you home safely.” She bowed extravagantly, as she used to in the early days now far gone. “Please forgive me my overstep, Fairest Lady,” she smiled up at Helen, hoping the ridiculousness of the gesture would overshadow the true depths of the feelings she was quite sure were clearly written in her eyes.

Helen let out a lilting laugh that set Rowan’s heart fluttering against her ribcage, curtsying slightly in return, “There is nothing to forgive, Gallant Knight,” she giggled, “though my pardon you shall have, if so you wish it.”

Rowan beamed at her as she lightly kissed Helen’s hand before straightening. “I thank thee kindly, Mistress.” Rowan cleared her throat, all frivolity erased from her countenance as she offered her hand to Helen, “Inis dom. What happened?”

Allowing herself to be led to the settee before the fire, Helen recounted the tale.

Rowan knocked at the door of Henry’s laboratory, “Pardún, Master Foss, I wonder if I might procure your assistance with a few renovations. I do believe I might be here for a while, and I’ve decided to take my gracious hostess up on her offer of allowing me to modify my chambers. I have some things of my own that will be arriving shortly, but obviously I can’t handle the plumbing on my own.”

“Sure, of course.” Henry smiled uncomfortably at her, he was still awkward around her Sidhe charms. He would come around to normalcy eventually, but he had to want to be unaffected first. “Uh, plumbing??”

Rowan grinned, “This won’t be a problem, will it?”

“No. Uh, no. Of course not. I’ll just need to do some checking into the finances, you know, to see which account to take the funds out of. Shouldn’t, uh, be a problem. Only take me a minute.”

Rowan handed him a small strip of paper, some numbers scribbled on it in an elegant hand. “The funds will come from this account, Mister Foss. I’m sure you’ll find more than an adequate amount to cover the work I’ll need done, cinnte.”

“Right, of course.” Henry quickly input the numbers into his system. “Uh, this isn’t one of ours. Does, uh, does the boss have a personal account I don’t have in the system?”

“The nature of Helen’s personal accounts is outside of my purview, so I cannot speak to such. As for the account I have given you to fund my changes to the tower room, it is my own. Helen has been kind enough to offer me both- pardon the pun- sanctuary in her home, and the freedom to make it my own at my own discretion. I shan’t abide further infringement upon her hospitality by expecting nor accepting her funding of alterations that I make to my own chambers. Tuigeann tú?”

“Uh, yeah. Absolutely,” Henry smiled appreciatively. This mysterious hottie might turn out to be a pretty decent roommate yet. “So, what’re we gonna do?”

Rowan smiled at him in return and settled down next to him. Grabbing a pad and pen, she began to sketch the designs she had made.

Just as Rowan reached the elevator after leaving Henry’s lab, Will caught up to her. “Uh, hey. I was wondering if we could talk? We really haven’t had much chance since you got here, and I’d like to. That is, if you don’t mind.”

“By all means, Sir William, please, carry on.” They stepped into the elevator together.

“You, uh, you’ve been keeping pretty much to yourself since you got here. I hope we haven’t made you feel out of place.”

His concern was genuine, and rather endearing. “Not at all, Will. I just haven’t wanted to step on anyone’s toes. I recognize I’m an interloper here, and it is not my intent to involve myself with the dynamic that has developed between your colleagues, nor is it my interest to attempt to push my way into your team or your work. I am merely an old friend of Helen’s who has come to spend time with her and become reacquainted after all these long years. I’m fond of and passionate about the work and the mission of the Sanctuary. I have long been one of its biggest supporters, and I would happily dedicate my life to continuing to advance its pursuits. Hardly nothing, in fact, would give me greater pleasure. But I won’t overstep my bounds and tread a path beyond my place.” She smiled evenly at Will, “I also feel it would be most prudent for my integration into matters here, both work related and simply as a resident, should be of the quite slow and steady sort. I’m not exactly the average ‘new recruit’, I have history with Helen. Deep, long history. And this is her home. You all are her family. You each have a place here, a role, and a relationship with her that carries beyond coworker, employee. Too much too fast from me could devalue the special place in her heart you each have as well as the important roles that you each play in her life. That is something I would never wish to do.

“I am here, and available, to any and all of you, in whatever you may need or wish, as you are each comfortable. However, for the time being anyway, I am quite content to simply sit on the sidelines and allow each of you to come to me in your own time, at your own pace. I’m not here to take over, and to make sure that reads loud and clear, at least for now, that means I won’t be getting involved, either. Not unless I am requested to.”

“Wow. Uh, okay,” Will searched for words, this exchange was not at all what he had expected when he had approached her. “Well, would you mind if I asked to know a bit about you? We’ve talked about your people, and your history with Magnus. But I’d like to know your history. If, that is, I’m not prying too much?” The elevator doors opened and they stepped out into the hallway, turning down the corridor leading to the library.

“Not at all,” she smiled. He still didn’t know what to make of her. She found it quite amusing, because it was probably a rather rare experience for him. “Guigh inis, what would you know?”

“Well, you’ve said you lived in London for a time, when you went to school at Oxford, and Magnus told me about when you left.” He paused, she gathered he was feeling her out to see if it bothered her that Helen had told him some of their personal history. When he got no response other than her cool gaze, waiting, he continued. “I guess I’m curious what you were doing around that time. Before, after.”

“Well, I spent a good deal of time travelling about what you would know as the British Isles in my youth; Eire, Alba, Cymru, Albion. As for what I did, well, none of it I’m sure would translate the times for you. I’m Fae, William, we live for the earth, of the earth. We have duties to the land and charges to fulfill. I travelled, I saw the world (what of it mattered in those days), I carried out my purpose.”

They sat at one of the tables in the library, Will watching her closely, gauging, judging, assessing. “Eire, Albion, those are names from the middle ages, aren’t they? I mean, Magnus said you were older than she is now back then, but, surely….”

“I’m four hundred and seventy, boyo, and I have a birthday coming yet this year.”

Will couldn’t hide the surprise in his eyes. “Uh, wow. The things you must have seen.” Realization dawned and he let out a nervous laugh. “The world must seem so strange to you now.”

She smiled, amusement sparkling in her eyes, “Is ea, mar a dhéanann sé. So it does. When you’ve had as much time to watch the world grow as I have, most of it just seems natural. It makes sense. There are some things, though, I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to. But when you have forever, aon rud is féidir, who knows.”

“And, after you left London? What did you do then?”

“Mar sin, now we come to it, do we? You think to find where I’ve been since Helen and I last saw each other. Nochtfaidh mé mo rún, catch me out?”

Will realized he needed to tread very carefully here, “I’m not trying to catch anything. I’m simply curious about your life. Did you go back to Ireland, continue ‘fulfilling your purpose’?” he shrugged noncommittally, as if he had no interest one way or another in the answer, as if it were just idle conversation. In truth, he knew nothing about this woman, and it was obvious Magnus held strong feelings for her. He didn’t know Magnus all that well either, come to think of it, but he liked her very much. He cared for her, and had no desire to see her hurt. Something about this strange woman and her mysterious reemergence didn’t sit right with him, and he intended to suss out why.

“Mar a déarfá, I have returned to Erie a few times since then, though not for the same reasons I was there in my early days. I have travelled, studied, seen the world- far more of it than there was when I was yet a wee lass. Le fíor, I discovered my path and I have walked it well.”

Will listened to her intently, studying, analyzing. She had a very odd way of speaking; ancient Gaelic, modern Irish colloquialisms, and Renaissance English all rolled together; she combined that with courtly mannerisms and a spritely mischievousness that made it hard to pin her down. He supposed it made sense, the strange combination, having lived almost 500 years all over the world, of course she would be an amalgamation of all her wheres and whens. “You’ve lived a long time. Have you done it alone? I mean, do you have a family? Have you ever had one?”

Now we were getting to the heart of it. He had asked the question casually enough, and it was certainly a fair curiosity to have, but she heard the reasons underneath quite clearly, and they were anything but casual. “I have had my affairs in my time, young William, if that is what you are asking.”

He cleared his throat, “Well, no, actually. I mean, I’m sure that, given the extraordinary length of your life, of course-” Rowan eyed him with amusement. He took a deep breath and tried again. “I guess I wasn’t questioning casualness. Life can get rather lonely for those of us who only have it 80 or 90 years tops, I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be for you. Companionship on a deeper level, it’s a great comfort. Have you shared your life with someone, or someones? You’ve certainly had time enough for more than one.”

“Feicim, well, young Master William, allow me to enlighten you about my people. The Daoine Sidhe mate for life. For immortal beings, that’s quite the commitment. For the last of our line, well, it’s quite the tale of caution. When we give our hearts, we do it but once in our own lifetime, for we give it whole and complete, nothing is held in reserve, and we do not ever get it back. Once given, it is no longer ours. If our mate doesn’t reciprocate our feelings, or leaves us, or dies- there is no next time. Our heart has been given, and that cannot be undone. We do not love again. Ever. Not in that way. So, no, I have not shared my life with someones, borne families. For I get only one.”

As she spoke, Will avidly watched everything for ticks and tells. This was, after all, the very heart of what he wanted to find out about her. Yet, she was as closed to him as if he were blind. He could read nothing, nothing at all. When he had seen her in the study that first day, with Magnus, he barely had to look at all to tell what she was thinking, feeling. But now, he couldn’t get anything off of her. As if she had locked the door in his face. What had he done to offend her, cause her to draw away and close off? And how was it possible for her to do so? He’d never met anyone who could shut him out like this. Then it hit him. Magnus. Of course. She had never let him in at all, and she wasn’t closing him out now. It was Magnus. Rowan’s feelings for her, whatever precisely they might be- for that history was long and tangled and he couldn’t even begin to unwind the nature of their relationship- kept her open to Magnus. She let her in, probably without even consciously realizing it. She wasn’t shutting Will down, she just kept herself closed to everyone but Magnus. Why? And why, for what- fifteen years?- out of five hundred, would you carry that level of vulnerability with someone when you were obviously so tightly guarded in every single other aspect of your life?

“Níos mó?”

Lost deep in his own thoughts, Will barely heard her speak. What he did hear, he didn’t understand. “I’m sorry, what?”

She smiled softly, realizing she had spoken in the Old Tongue, “Do you have more you wish to know?”

“Oh, uh,” Will scrambled to collect his thoughts. Her last answer had not been what he had expected. “The, uh, the Five. Magnus told me a little. Did you know them?”

“Oh, tá, I did at that. They were fairly newly formed when I met them, you know. Hadn’t even found the formula for that serum of theirs yet. Though, I didn’t know until after they had all taken it what their intentions were.” Her eyes went out of focus, staring off into the long ago. “Nobody liked Nikola, he was always the arrogant sort, even then, though he was blessed brilliant. Nigel and James, now they were fine gents, the pair of ‘em. John, though, I never really knew quite what to make of him. Something was always a bit off about him.”

“You mean Druitt?”

“Ay, bit cnó that one. But he loved Helen, that much was clear, and in those days, that was enough for me. As they say, love covers a multitude of sins.”

“What exactly happened with him? Them?” Will leaned forward, his curiosity amply piqued.

“Ní hea. Sorry, boyo, not my story to tell. You want to know about Helen and her love, go maith, you ask Helen.”

Will lowered his head, scolded, “Right. Sorry.”

“They were a close knit bunch, those five. Did everything together, not just their work. I floated around the fringes, myself. Helen, I think, would have drawn me all the way in had it been up to her, if for no other reason than to have another woman standing beside her. The boys, though, they held their reservations about me, mistrustful. Now that I know the aims of their little clan, I think, in part, afraid that one already outside the scope of ‘normal’ would have rather strong opinions about their notion to alter themselves so drastically.”

“And did you? I mean, would you have, if you had known?”

“Is cuma. I didn’t know and by the time I did, they had already taken the serum. Changed themselves forever, for better or worse. It was their choice alone to make, and they made it. Déantar an méid atá déanta.”

“Hey, Will?” Ashley walked into the library carrying a stack of files. “I was wondering-” she stopped short as she noticed Rowan. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were in the middle of something. I can come back.”

Rowan jumped to her feet, startled and- something else Will couldn’t put his finger on, though he’d like to. “Oh, no. I’d hate to be in the way.” She nodded at Will, “Thank you for the chat, I’m sure we can continue it later if you’d wish.” Her gaze turned back to Ashley, unable to focus and staring overmuch at the same time. “Ashley, nice to- I- uh….” She swept out of the room, her black satin skirts swirling after her.

Ashley turned to Will, eyebrows raised, an awkward laugh on her lips. “What was that?”

Will, who was still staring after Rowan, shook his head in confusion, “I have no idea.”

Late that night, meditating in her room, Rowan’s senses alerted her to an approaching presence, she felt it long before she heard it. As she listened, she heard the soft, light footfalls climbing the stairs below her, they paused briefly on the landing outside her door, and then they continued on again, heading up to the roof. Quietly, Rowan climbed off her bed, donned a robe, and followed the footsteps to the roof.

Helen stood in the pale moonlight, her hair blowing in the breeze. Coming to stand beside her, Rowan pulled her cover tightly closed around her. “You were right to be worried,” Helen said quietly. “Honestly, I thought I very likely was dead up there. I guess I don’t think about it much, indefinite lifespan and all, but I didn’t like the way it felt. That sense of this is the end. I’ve only ever truly felt that way once, you know.” She shuddered. “I never want to feel that way again. It was the most terrible night of my life.”

Rowan silently wrapped a comforting arm around Helen, pulling her close. Helen responded by resting her head on Rowan’s shoulder, both of them staring out into the night.

After a time, seeming to resurface from the depths of her memories, Helen broke their silence. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.” She smiled at her dear friend.

“And I, you, Helen. And I, you.” She returned the smile, hoping the low light would hide the sadness in her eyes. The desire for something more that, at least now, wasn’t meant to be. “It’s late,” she said softly. “You’ve had quite the ordeal. You should get yourself into bed.”

“Yes, I suppose I should.” She turned for the stairs, stopped, looked back. “Are you coming?”

Rowan’s heart was in her throat, pounding so loudly she was sure it was impossible for Helen not to hear it. It wasn’t the offer it sounded like, and she knew it. She was an old friend to Helen, that was all. She needed to stop allowing herself to hear things that weren’t there. “I’ll get some sleep myself, shortly,” she said hoarsely. “I think I’ll enjoy the view just a bit longer. Good night, Helen.”

For just a moment, Helen had thought Rowan might come with her. That maybe, just maybe, their romance hadn’t ended in London all those years ago after all. That, maybe, Rowan would come to bed with her. It was a silly notion. They were friends. Dear, old friends. But friends, nonetheless. Rowan had offered, once, over a century ago. She had turned her down. Why should she think it would still be waiting for her now? “Good night,” she whispered, disappearing into the darkness and down the stairs.

#sanctuary #helen magnus #will zimmerman #henry foss #ashley magnus #fanfic

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quietasasanctuarymouse · 3 years

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Season 1 Episode 4 ~ Folding Man

9.21:

Magnus: Henry?

Henry: Got a rock solid match on the fingerprint. Belongs to a career lowlife named Malcolm Dawkins.

Magnus: Is there a last known address?

Henry: Nothing recent. Lago Vista, Texas, about four years ago.

Will: Lago Vista, that’s right outside of Austin. I might be able to get the bank robbery case file from my old partner at the agency.

At the door to Magnus’s study, Will continued down the hall to set up the meeting, and Henry followed Magnus inside. As she settled herself into the chair behind her desk, he continued with his report, “I’ve been scouring the surveillance footage from the area, trying to get a bead on where the other suspect went, but so far- nada. I could-”

“What are you working on?” Rowan floated into the office and hopped up on Helen’s desk, crossing her knees as she leaned across to look at the file she was holding.

“Actually, we think we’ve got a Folding Man,” Helen smiled at her, turning the file to give her a better look.

“A Folder? Fascinating.”

“Indeed. I thought so,” they smiled at each other, mutually enamored by the enigma.

“Uh, Doc?” Henry’s tone full of confusion.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Rowan, this is Henry Foss. He’s-”

“Ah, yes,” she turned her attention to the nervous man standing in front of her. “Techno genius extraordinaire.” She held out her hand, “Pleasure.”

Henry sputtered and stammered, Helen smiled. Rowan always could reduce the boys to babbling.

“Rowan’s an old friend of mine and she’ll be staying with us for a while. I’ve given her use of the tower room and carte blanche to alter anything she might wish. I trust you’ll assist her with whatever she may need?”

“Uh, yeah, Boss. Of course. What- what- whatever you need. I- I, uh…”

Magnus stifled a smile, “That will be all, Henry, thank you.” She clucked her tongue as he left the room. “What am I ever to do with you? You’ll have my whole staff a stuttering mess by end of day.”

“Just the staff?”

“Cheeky.”

“So, what makes you think it's a Folder?”

20.05

Will: Hey, what about the police?

Ashley: What about them?

Will: Well, I mean, this guy’s an accessory to murder, maybe more…

Magnus: And what would you have us tell them? That their man’s addicted to gold and that he slithers like a python?

Will: That’s a good point.

“I’d love to see the look on the face of the person who answers that call,” Rowan was smiling broadly as she stepped into the room.

“So would I,” Helen smiled back.

Ashley quickly stood from the couch, “Uh, Mom?”

Rowan’s focus turned, her eyes wide, and she gave a small gasp.

“Ashley, darling,” Helen stepped up beside her daughter, placing an arm around her shoulders, “this is Rowan Llewellyn. We’re old friends and I’ve invited her to stay with us for a while. Rowan, this is my daughter.”

Rowan gave a slight bow and a warm smile. Eyes transfixed, like she was looking at a ghost. “She’s beautiful, Helen,” she breathed quietly, almost as if she were talking to someone else, someone very far away. As she straightened, her eyes flicked momentarily to Helen who gave her an almost imperceptible shake of the head. “Well, it's my great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ashley. Your mother and I have known each other for quite a long time, and I very much look forward to the opportunity to get to know you as well.”

Ashley looked at her mom with eyes that clearly said Is this chick for real? “Yeah, you have no idea what ‘quite a long time’ is,” she scoffed. A sharp look from her mother put a noncommittal smile on her face. “Uh, sorry. Yeah, it’s nice to meet you, too. Um, how long did you say you’re staying?”

“I guess that would depend on your mother,” the corners of her mouth twitched, fighting back the smile that wanted to laugh out loud at the assumption of her age.

“Right, well, mi casa and all that. Mom, I’m, uh, I’m gonna go look into this whole gold drug shipment thing. Somewhere else.”

“Let me know what you find.”

“You got it,” she flashed an uncertain look at Rowan as she left the room.

As soon as she was gone, both women fell to giggles, “I have no idea about quite a long time?”

“I’m sorry, Ashley’s always had a bit of a bite in her tongue, even in the best of circumstances.”

“She’s got her mother’s fire,” Rowan smiled. Her eyes took on a questioning quality as she opened her mouth to speak again.

Helen shook her head with finality, “Not now.”

Rowan nodded assent and smiled broadly at her again, “Motherhood sits well on you.”

23.54:

Magnus: It's pretty much what I expected.

Will: I can get him to talk. I just need more time.

Magnus: There’s an expression amongst creature hunters. If you could teach a lion English, you still wouldn’t understand him.

Will: We’re not talking about a wild animal here.

Ashley: Oh, Will, that’s exactly what we’re talking about, only this guy’s way more intelligent than most.

Magnus: And as a consequence, more dangerous.

Ashley: I’m late.

Magnus: Going out?

Ashley: Yeah. I owe it to Mr Jones to tell him what we’ve learned.

Magnus: Stay safe.

No sooner had Ashley closed the door behind her than there came a knock. At Magnus’s raised eyebrows, Will stood from the arm of the chair and opened the door.

Rowan bobbed her head at Will and turned her glittering green eyes to Helen. “May I join you?”

“I, uh, I have some work to do,” Will said. “Elsewhere.” He stepped out the door, pulling it closed behind him.

Helen held out her hand to the vacant cushion, and Rowan crossed to the sofa and sat down.

“How have you been, Helen? Oxford was a long time ago,” she smiled warmly at her oldest friend.

“How much time do you have?” Helen smiled back, making light of the situation and the gravity with which the question was asked.

“Forever,” Rowan was all seriousness. “Really, Helen, don’t gloss over it. You are dearest to my heart and I would hear your life, if you’d share it. I’d say I’m in a rather unique position to understand what it must be for you, so far removed from the era you were born to as you are.”

“Yes, well, not many know what it is to live as we do. What would you know?”

“I would know it all, in time. For now, whatever you wish to tell.”

Helen smiled into the attentive face of one of her oldest friends, the piercing eyes that observed far more than she ever let on, peering into her core just as they always had, searching for all the things she hid from the rest of the world. “It has been a long life, and in the later years a rather lonely one. Much of the time I don’t know how I get out of bed in the mornings, sometimes I don’t. I don’t know how you do it, truly. Almost half a millenia. It’s easier to bear these days than it once was, now that I have Ashley.”

“She’s John’s,” it wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Helen nodded. “How did you know?”

“Back in the autumn of ‘88, you were pregnant. Then, everything that happened with John… After that, you weren’t pregnant anymore. I knew you wouldn’t have ended it, even under the circumstances. I always assumed you had found a way to preserve it. Postpone it. Until you were ready.”

“But,” Helen’s eyes were incredulous. She knew Rowan often knew things she shouldn’t know, but this…. “I never told anyone. Not even John knew.”

“It’s one of our gifts, Helen. We can see life force. You had two. There were other, subtle clues. The sort of thing any keen observer could have noticed and put together eventually. But I could see her, even then.

“She doesn’t know.” Also not a question.

“No.”

“How much does she know of your past? How much have you told her?”

“She knows quite a good deal. Though more about recent past than the early days.”

“Because, if she knew much about long history there would be questions,” she held Helen firmly in her steady gaze. “Ones you have no intention nor desire to provide with answers.”

Helen gazed steadily back. “Even after all this time, you still know me so well.” She smiled wanly. “Tell me, oh great oracle of my heart, what else do you know?”

The corner of Rowan’s mouth twitched a small smile. “There are two reasons you hide from your daughter the truth about her father, though only one was consciously part of your decision to keep this secret from her.” Helen raised a questioning eyebrow. “The first, obviously, was your desire to protect her. Given John’s history, there’s an awful lot of opportunity for pain.”

Helen nodded solemnly, “And the other?”

Rowan gave her a sad, knowing smile. “Your relationship with John was private. Even those of us who were there are shut out of what happened between the two of you. Your memories of that time are yours alone and you have no wish to share them with anyone, even your own child. If you told her about her father you’d also have to tell her about you and her father. That’s something you can’t bear to do. It feels too much like an intrusion. An invasion of your heart, which you keep on constant close guard.”

Expression startled, Helen opened her mouth to make a rebuttal.

Rowan held up a silencing hand. “It’s all right, Helen. You are entitled to keep your memories to yourself, and I’m not asking you to share them. Perhaps to ask you to do so would steal some of their magic from you, and that truly would be a shame. Nor am I asking you to justify your relationship to me or anyone else. I was there, you know. Yes, I saw how much pain he caused you, but I saw how much joy he brought as well- how happy he made you. I also saw how madly in love with him you were. You love him still, in fact. In spite of all you went through. Hold on to that love, for your daughter’s sake. One day she might need it, and you’re the only one who can offer it to her.”

Helen’s beautiful blue eyes were bright with tears. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for understanding.” Rowan bowed her head. Helen cleared her throat, pulling back the tears before they could fall. “I noticed something earlier today that perplexes me,” she ventured. Rowan’s cocked head signaled for her to continue. “When I introduced you to Ashley and again just now when you came in. It seems like you’re avoiding being in the same room with her- almost as if, well-” she paused.

“Almost as if, what?”

“Are you nervous around my daughter?”

Rowan laughed, “It is simply that I like her mother, and I fear that she may notice before you do.” Her eyes watched Helen’s expectantly, her breath imperceptibly held.

Helen’s lips spread into a wry smile, crinkling her nose, and she gave Rowan’s arm a playful smack. “Oh, cheeky you.”

Rowan forced a grin, mirroring Helen’s joking tone, her heart sinking in her chest. For all of Helen’s charms, her wit, her mind of unmatched brilliance, she still had no idea. On the matter of Rowan’s feelings for her she was still completely blind.

“You’ve changed, Helen,” she absently stroked her fingertips along the smooth skin of the hand Helen rested on the back of the couch.

They stared at each other in the dying firelight for a long time. “A lot has happened since you knew me once, long ago,” she said at last. “I had to.”

42.03

Ashley: Actually, on a scale from zero to hero, you’re more like-

Magnus: Ashley….

Ashley: Almost respectable.

Helen settled into the chair at her desk to finish up the temporary intake paperwork for the clan of Folding Men detoxing downstairs. Her delicate fingers tucked a swath of chocolate curls behind her ear, her other hand holding the end of her pen between her teeth, deep in concentration.

Enraptured, Rowan, propped against the doorframe, silently stood and watched her, simply soaking up the everyday beauty of this phenomenal woman who had stolen her heart over a century ago. She still couldn’t believe how stunningly beautiful Helen was and it always amazed her how, even now, the mere sight of her always took her breath away. She would never get used to the flutter in her stomach, the quickening of her heart, the lump in her throat. Though with each passing year it became more and more clear- Helen hadn’t stolen her heart at all, she had given it away free of will and of strings. She had never even asked for Helen’s in return.

“Your new protege seems to be coming along quite nicely,” she said finally.

Helen looked up with a start. “He just might well do,” she smiled.

“Oh, please,” Rowan straightened and stepped into the room. “You knew he was the one long before you ever even introduced yourself to him.”

“Did I now?” Helen asked with a sly smile. “How long have you been standing there, anyway?”

“Oh, not long,” she said dismissively. Not for the first time since she arrived, Helen wondered just how much Rowan wasn’t telling her.

#sanctuary #helen magnus #will zimmerman #henry foss #ashley magnus #fanfic

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quietasasanctuarymouse · 3 years

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Season 1 Episode 3 1/2 ~ Tuatha De Danaan

Helen Magnus sat on the edge of the desk in her office, her legs crossed demurely, the erratic flexing of her feet in their black patent pumps the only outward sign of the nervous energy coursing through her body. Hands grasping the lip of the desktop to either side of her, she leaned forward slightly, all attention focused on Will Zimmerman in the armchair opposite her.

“Are the current security protocols really enough? I mean, they know where we are, they’ve been inside, seen the layout of the facility, and, Magnus, they were pretty pissed.”

“It’s alright, Will. I have my contacts keeping an ear to the ground about any and all Cabal activity, especially in areas near any of the Sanctuaries. This encounter was instigated because of our possession of Danu and her sisters, nothing more. The Cabal have been in operation for centuries and the Sanctuary Network has been a large force for the last two. They have never crossed our path in such a way before, and I see no reason for them to again now, not since they got their ‘property’ back anyway.”

Will pulled his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose and fidgeting with the tines. “Are you saying you think this is over? That you believe the Cabal’s sole interest in us was reclaiming the Morrigan and now that they have them we’ll never hear from them again?”

Helen gave a cheeky grin, “Not hardly. I’m saying they’re smart, resourceful, focused, and patient. This isn’t over by a long shot, but whatever their endgame, our encounter with them two nights ago wasn’t part of it. They never intended to turn their hand to us in such a way at this time. It was a fluke because of the situation with the Morrigan. Now that it's happened, they’ll be planning their next moves even more carefully. Such intentions can be corroborated by the utter silence that has fallen since they left here with the sisters.” She smiled reassuringly. “This isn’t over, but we have time. They won’t be making any moves, not yet. Trust me, Will. When they do, we’ll know.”

“All that confidence and self-assuredness. Calming the anxieties and reassuring the troops. So attractive.”

Will gave a start at the unexpected sound of the unfamiliar voice, sitting forward in his chair he turned to the doorway to see who it belonged to.

Standing in the slanted early morning sunlight falling through the tall windows of Magnus’s study was a tall, lithe, curvaceous woman of about late twenty-something with milky pale flawless skin, striking red hair the vibrant color of blood that fell to mid-thigh in soft full cascading waves, and startling green eyes like vibrant emeralds lit from within as if the sun shone through the perfectly faceted gemstones. The smooth satin of her green dress, a darker shade of her dazzling eyes, that was something of a cross between Victorian era steampunk corseting and a bohemian sundress swirled gracefully about her alluring shape as she strode into the room toward Helen’s frozen form still perched on her desk. She was absolutely stunning. Her lilting voice like music as she spoke again in her undeniably Irish accent. “I do hope you don’t mind, I let myself in. I did so want to surprise you, and I see that I have succeeded.” She smiled warmly, a twinkle of mischief in her glittering eyes.

Will, mouth agape, turned his attention back to Magnus whose eyes were fixed on this strange woman in a mixture of stunned silence and surprised delight. He had only known her a short time, but nothing about her had in any way indicated to him that she was the type of woman who could be rendered speechless. Even the very unexpected appearance of John Druitt a couple of weeks ago had not stolen her voice. Far from it, and yet here she sat, staring unbelievingly at the mysterious woman standing in front of her.

The woman held out her hands and, as if by automatic reflex, Magnus grasped them delicately in her own and allowed herself to be helped to her feet. The gallant gesture seamlessly flowed into a friendly embrace, the woman placing a lingering kiss on Magnus’s cheek, her long elegant hands cupping Helen’s shoulder blades as she took in the length of her, uttering a whimsical sigh; the whole exchange one graceful fluid motion. “Bí fós i mo chroí. You’re as beautiful as ever, Helen, and I love what you’ve done with your hair,” she smiled as she gingerly stroked a lock of chocolate curl between thumb and forefinger, the back of the latter caressed Helen’s other cheek as the hand slowly brushed by.

The brief, yet intimate, physical contact seemed to break whatever had held Magnus spellbound and brought her back to the present. “Dear Lord,” she breathed, the utterance barely more than a whisper. “I haven’t seen you since….” She trailed off.

“Midsommer. ‘98,” the other woman supplied, her eyes still locked on the radiant blue of Helen’s.

“Yes, I saw you in the drawing room and had intentions of finding you at table, but then you just disappeared. I never saw you again after that.” Will caught the tiniest flicker of sadness behind the wonder in her eyes, so quickly covered he doubted the mystery woman had seen it at all- regardless of how intently their gazes were locked. Helen’s eyes searched the woman’s face, for what Will couldn’t even begin to guess. “What on Earth are you doing here?”

“Can’t a girl just pop in to see an old friend for no apparent reason?” her grin was cheshire through and through, and Helen’s raised eyebrow brought a melodious laugh. “I never could get anything past you, could I? Bíodh sin mar atá. It was the Morrigan.”

The shift in the tone of the conversation parted the embrace as Helen stepped back into the edge of her desk. “What?” The change of topic alleviating the privateness of the moment, Will cleared his throat. Helen’s eyes snapped to him, still sitting in the armchair. “Oh! I’m so sorry. Will, this is one of my oldest friends, Rowan Llewellyn. Rowan, this is my newest colleague, Dr. William Zimmerman. I do apologize for my poor manners, the surprise of seeing Rowan after so long has just left me a bit flabbergasted. Please, forgive me.”

Will stood, extending his hand to Rowan, “Nice to meet you,” he smiled. “No need for apologies, Magnus. I can understand being surprised to see someone out of the blue after a decade or so of no contact with them.”

Releasing the handshake, Rowan let out a hearty chuckle, “My dear boy, how long have you known our most lovely Helen Magnus?” At Will’s startled look she continued. “The ‘98 that I was referring to was 1898.” She beamed at Helen as Will’s head tennis court swiveled between the two women’s faces, his turn to be rendered speechless.

When Will found his voice, he turned his quizzical gaze on Magnus. “What, did you give her some of your blood, too? Was she also dying of some terrible disease?”

The left side of Magnus’ mouth quirked up into a small smile. “No, actually she was far older than I am now the first time I ever met her.” Will’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Rowan is a Daoine Sidhe. She’s immortal.”

Will turned his stunned gaze to Rowan who laughed lightly, “Well, in so much as long as nothing kills me.”

“Yes, Will, I can see that you have many, many questions. Come, let’s sit and we can talk.” The three of them moved to the seating area around the fireplace, Will taking the far armchair and the ladies settling onto the settee. Rowan crossed her ankles sliding her feet under the edge of the settee, her gaze traveling the graceful length of skin up Helen’s bare legs, the black pencil skirt stopping just shy of her demurely crossed knees, the hands clasped delicately in her lap, the swell of her breasts beneath the blue linen of her blouse, the neckline of which was low enough to catch a glimpse of rounded flesh, the arch and curve of her collar bone, the soft line of her neck adorned by only a few errant curls, her chestnut hair swept up and pinned to one side, her full lips, moving as she spoke to Will. “Before you launch into your, I’m sure, very long list of questions, I have one of my own that I’d like to ask.” Then, those piercing sapphire eyes turned upon her, dark lashes fluttering as their gazes met and she smiled. “You said the Morrigan brought you here?”

For a moment, Rowan said nothing, lost in the depths of Helen’s eyes locked with her own. She dropped her gaze to her own hands resting in her lap and took a steadying breath. Returning her gaze to Helen’s crystalline eyes, she nodded, “Two days ago, they used their powers, for the first time in centuries. I felt the call, and I came to investigate. When I saw that the place they had been was yours, well, I had to stay. To see you. I am so very sorry for the unexpected intrusion.” She smiled warmly at the woman seated next to her, “De réir na déithe go léir, I’ve missed you, Helen. Deeply, and I’d like to spend some time here with you if you don’t find objection. Reminisce old times and catch up on current ones. After all, when the Fates drop you on someone’s doorstep, who am I to turn and walk away?”

The grin that spread across Helen’s lips lit her whole face. She took Rowan’s hands in hers and gave a light squeeze, “Of course. You’re welcome for as long as you like. You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” She squeezed her hands again before letting them fall and straightening back into the arm of the settee. “Alright, William, I can see you’re full to bursting,” she extended her hand to him, offering the floor. “Please, by all means,” a playful smile tugging at the edges of her lips.

“Okay, well basics first, I guess. What exactly is a Daoine Sidhe? An abnormal, obviously, but….” he let the sentence trail, quite literally sitting on the edge of his seat, eagerly awaiting the answer.

“Well, yes,” Helen said, smiling at the obvious connection. “Daoine Sidhe are an ancient race of abnormal, Irish in origin, who have many names and varying forms throughout Gaelic folklore; Puca, Changeling, Banshee, Sluagh, Leprechaun- to name just a few that you’ve likely heard of.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Will sat straighter on the edge of his chair, “You mean to tell me leprechauns and banshees are real, and they’re abnormals?”

“What we are, Sir William,” Rowan interjected, voice full of pride and dignity, “are the Fair Folk. We are Fae.”

“What, like fairies?” Will couldn’t keep the disbelief from his smile.

Helen smiled at his enthusiastic skepticism. “The legends are numerous and varied, some claim they are the descendants of fallen angels, others claim they are from the lineage of the Tuatha De Danaan.” At Will’s raised eyebrows, Magnus forged ahead, “The Tribe of Danu, the Gaelic gods. The Tuatha De arrived in Ireland in clouds of mist, according to the mythos, likely from heaven due to their knowledge of architecture, the arts, and magic. At the First Battle of Magh Tuireadh they defeated the Fir Bolg, thus securing their reign over the land. A Second Battle of Magh Tuireadh was fought and won, however at the Third Battle the Tuatha De were defeated, and when the victors divided the lands with them, they granted themselves the land above ground and they gave the Tuatha De the land underground. So it was that the Tuatha De Danaan came to live in the Sidhe mounds and the Daoine Sidhe were born.”

“Children of gods, really?” Will gave Magnus a look full of disbelief.

“Well, obviously, fallen angels or children of the gods, these are just stories of the old local folklore. A way to explain evolved creatures that differed so drastically from the human cultures of the area. Creatures with advanced abilities that these people had no other way of explaining. The true origins of this evolutionary strand of abnormals has, unfortunately, been lost to history. But the lore is at least colorful and entertaining.”

“Our dear Helen here has devoted her life to science and all of its many pursuits, and so she finds it easiest to explain things in terms of ‘evolution’ and ‘advanced ability’. She always has had rather the hardest time opening her mind to believe in the concept of true magick.”

“Magic? Seriously?” Will gave a chuckle, but the look in Rowan’s eyes quickly silenced it.

“Cén fáth, you did just have a trio of witches in your home, did you not?”

He leaned back in the chair, fingers steepled, trying to digest all this information. Immortal fairies. Gods and their progeny. Magic? “Wait, what did you mean you ‘heard the call’ when the Morrigan used their powers?”

“Danu and her sisters, Tatha and Caird, are part of the old magicks of Eire, just as the Daoine Sidhe are. We are rooted to the lands that bore us, fundamentally connected to it and to each other. When they unleashed their magick, it was like loosing a shockwave. Macalla. It sent a pulse through the Isle of Eire, a pulse that echoed through the hearts of all her Childer. Not much speaks so loudly from the Olde Earth anymore, so when something does we pay heed.”

“If that is the case, then why do we not have the rest of the Daoine Sidhe at our door asking about the Morrigan?”

Rowan’s features became stoic and withdrawn, her gaze turned down to her lap, her hands twisting and bunching the soft fabric of her skirts.

Magnus cleared her throat and as Will’s focus turned to her, he saw a deep sadness in her eyes. “Because, Will, there are no other Daoine Sidhe. Rowan is the last of her kind.”

“Oh. God. I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“It’s alright,” Rowan smiled at him sadly. “You couldn’t have known, and it’s been my reality for a long time. Tá síocháin déanta agam. I can see that you still have many questions. It’s alright, I’ll answer them as best I can. The first, obviously, is that if we are immortal, how can I be the last?” Will nodded. “The Daoine Sidhe have no natural life span; we are born, we grow to maturity, and then we stop, our physical bodies forever frozen at their peak. Some, who are very old, may choose to allow a bit of their age to show, lines at the corners of their eyes, turning hair, but even still, those of our elders who choose this path will only appear as a human of late forties or early fifties. You would never find a Fae the physical equivalent of an average human elder- seventies, eighties, nineties. Because our cells cease their growth process at the height of health and maturity, they never degenerate and decay, therefore we as a species have no natural cause of death. Our life span is indefinite and unlimited by entropy and deterioration.”

Rowan stood and paced to the cold fireplace, hands clasped behind her back, gaze fixed on some invisible focal point beyond the mantle. “That does not, however, mean that we cannot die. We can be killed, we have no immunity to mortal wounds, just as no other creature has no such capacity. We have impressive regenerative capabilities and heal faster and more fully than mortal entities, but a killing blow will end us just as surely as it would you. We also possess rather intense and thorough immune systems, a common cold or flu does not exist for the Fae, nor do any of us succumb to cancer or other such diseases. Yet, that does not mean we cannot fall ill; there are sicknesses that ravage and even kill Daoine Sidhe that you have no knowledge or understanding of, nor would they have any effect on you at all.” She turned back to them and her eyes fell on Will as she continued. “Death, as you know it, is not the only end to life for one of the Fair Folk. Whereas you have no choice in the matter of your eventual and inevitable death, we Sidhe have every choice since a natural end is not afforded us. As a species, eternal life can appear to be a fantastic gift to those who are limited to less than a century. However, to those faced with an endless eternity, such a gift has quite the way of easily becoming a burden and a curse.” For the briefest of moments, she rested sympathetic eyes and a sad smile upon Helen. “Mallacht sáraitheach. For some, this burden becomes too much to bear, and rather than live on endlessly and forever, they choose to simply fade away. The Daoine Sidhe are children of Eire, sprung from her earth and raised on her waters, we are bound to and fueled by her lands- thus the deep rooted connection between all Childer of the Isle- in this way, if we so choose, we can cut our ties to this physical plane and return to the thrum of the magicks of her earth.

“Some of my Kin fell ill to various plagues among our people, more died in one battle or another. As the centuries stretched on and on, most grew weary of endless existence and began to Fade. As more of my Kith Faded into oblivion and our numbers dwindled fewer and fewer and fewer, it became even harder for those left to continue on. The loneliness, the lack of others not only of their kind but of any creature who existed as they did, who remembered times long gone, who held the memories of the Olde Magicks or even the current world while it was still in its infancy. As more and more chose to Fade, usually the oldest first, those among the numbers of our elders dwindled to almost nothingness. Which placed a new strain on those that remained; how do you combat the isolation and abandonment that you feel when there is no one left who remembers the first thousand or more years of your life? How do you convince yourself to push forward when everyone you knew, loved, grew and shared everything with is gone? How do you justify living as worth it when you have literally nothing left, and not even eventual inevitable release is offered you?” Rowan stared unseeingly at her hands in front of her, fingers twisting aimlessly at the ends of her hair. “And so, one by one, all the remaining Daoine Sidhe gave up. The end of the long, distinguished line of a noble species. Faded out of existence leaving naught a trace. Níl ann ach mise, anois. Tá mé i m'aonair.”

A heavy, suffocating silence fell in the wake of her words. Will sat motionless, stunned and shocked, Helen’s blue eyes were filled with tears, a few that had escaped still glistening on her cheeks. When Rowan finally spoke again, her voice, barely more than a whisper, was nearly deafening after the oppressive quiet. “I hope this has been a sufficient answer. Please, William, what else do you wish to know?”

Will nodded, cleared his throat, straightened himself in the chair. “Um, well, I guess,” he paused.

Rowan smiled wanly, “It’s all right. Go ahead.”

He cleared his throat again, “Honestly, I’m wondering why. If you’re all alone and your longevity is such a burden, why did you stay?”

“Why did I not Fade as the rest of my Kith did? Well, at the time I was fairly young, relatively speaking, for a Fae- I still am- I had not spent the time here to grow weary of this life, nor lonesome for companionship and understanding. I was hungry, for everything- life, experience, knowledge. Gach rud. After the first handful or so decades alone, the isolation did start to take its toll; however, I had grown wise enough to recognize that I didn’t wish to take my leave without the full wealth and richness of every experience I desired, and even after centuries of life there were a few I was lacking.” She moved back to the settee and settled herself next to Helen. “I was thirsty for knowledge, the world was just truly coming into it you know, dramatic advances by leaps and bounds, and I wanted to study everything. It was the late 1800s, Oxford was the premier school of the world, and I wanted to learn. I only audited, of course, but I sat in on everything. In the autumn of my first year in London, I met the most exquisite woman,” she reached out and cupped Helen’s face in her hands, tenderly brushing the tears from her eyes as she spoke. “She was bright and vivacious and determined, with the most insatiable appetite for life, knowledge, exploration. The first time I ever laid eyes on her, I knew she was the most radiant creature I had ever beheld. Croí mo chroí.” Helen’s hand raised to her cheek and placed itself gently over Rowan’s. Eyes locked, the two women smiled at each other, lost in memory. Will watched them with deep curiosity as Rowan continued, “She was unequivocally the most alive person I had ever met, not to mention the most mysterious and alluring, and I decided, upon seeing the drive with which she attacked the world, that there was something out there for me that was worth sticking around to discover.”

Will smiled at the sweetness of the exchange, “How did you two meet, anyway?”

Rowan stroked Helen’s now dry cheek affectionately before returning her hand to her lap. “Your turn for storytelling. I’m quite curious to hear how you remember it,” she said with a wink and a smile.

Helen beamed back at her in return. “Cheeky,” she grinned. “It was late September of 1884, I was beginning my third year at Oxford, lectures were done for the day and weather was nice, lots of us were sprawled about the grounds out of doors. Most of the fellows were picnicking or playing various games, a few close friends and I were taking the opportunity to compare notes and discuss theories about a pet project we were working on. There was a bit of a commotion across the promenade that caught our attention, a crowd of young men were striding through the park, all clustered together and adamantly focused on something in the midst of their congregation. My companions stood to see if they could get a better view of what was causing all the ruckus, that’s when the crowd of gentlemen parted and a young woman emerged from within.”

She glided across the grass of the courtyard as if she were floating, her full and flowing skirts trailing behind, a stunning jewel of purple. Her hair glittered in the light of the setting sun like rubies caught fire, plaited in the latest fashions about her crown, long curls spilling elegantly down her back. She moved with such natural grace and it was clear to see why she was leaving gawping faces and enthusiastic clumsy attentions in her wake. She was elegant, fascinating, magnetic. Helen found herself inexplicably drawn to the striking woman. She could hear her companions speaking amongst themselves in the background, but their voices came to her ears as if across a great void. “Who is that?” “New auditing student.” “Have any of you met her?” “When did she arrive?” “Any of you chaps know her name?” None of their conversation really registered with Helen, though, for she was caught in the pull of the tide flowing out, to her. Transfixed, she couldn’t look away. That was when, as if drawn by Helen’s gaze, the woman looked up from her admirers, across the promenade, straight into Helen’s eyes. Breath caught in her chest, heart thrumming in her throat. Her eyes. Glittering emeralds, glowing with their own light, their own life. It was as if the dazzling woman was staring straight into her soul. Her gaze sent chills all the way up Helen’s spine. No one had ever looked at her that way before. No one had ever looked into her. She smiled, and Helen’s pulse fluttered. Then she turned back in the direction she had been heading and was gone.

Three evenings later, one of the senior fellows was holding a formal ‘back to university’ gathering to which Helen and her colleagues were in attendance. While mingling about the salon, mostly speaking of the week’s most fascinating lectures, there was a bit of a hubbub from the front hall. Moments later, the woman from the courtyard entered the parlor. To Helen’s great surprise, within seconds the woman’s eyes locked onto hers and she glided straight across the room, directly toward Helen. The woman both kissed Helen’s hand and dipped into a small curtsy, though their eyes never parted, introducing herself as Rowan Llewellyn, starting her first year of attendance at Oxford. She said she’d very much like to talk to another woman in attendance as she hadn’t met many people since arriving in London and hadn’t even seen another woman about campus aside from Helen, who was rather enamored herself by the idea of speaking with another woman braving the male dominated world of university at that time. She commented briefly about the press of the crowd and the stuffiness of the room suggesting a stroll through the garden; having already been introduced to the world of abnormals by her father almost ten years prior and wishing to have the opportunity to study this woman more closely, Helen leapt at the excuse for a chance to talk privately.

The two women made their excuses to Helen’s companions and arm in arm walked out into the gardens, strolling under the moonlight. Once they had made their way a good distance into the flowers and fountains, well away from earshot of anyone who might come out onto the lanai for some air or privacy of their own, Rowan broke their companionable silence. “Lady Helen Magnus. I asked about campus after you following our brief encounter across the promenade. Might your father be Dr. Gregory Magnus?”

Helen allowed herself a small smile at the interest Rowan had shown in discovering more about her after only a brief glance, “Yes, actually, he is. Do you know him?”

“We’ve never met, but I’ve heard rather a great deal about him over the years. Both him, and his work.” The last word carried a great deal of emphasis. “Do you work with him?”

“My father has shared with me much of his practice, and I hold great interest in working with him on some of his more specialized projects. Though, that won’t begin until after I complete my studies, of course.”

“Of course. You’re in your third year, are you not? A large accomplishment for a woman of these times, especially one so lovely.”

“Are you implying, Miss Llewellyn, that a pretty face hides an absence of intellect?” Helen lifted an eyebrow at such an implication.

“Surely not, my lady. Simply acknowledging that someone with your charms could easily be the prized bride of any prosperous gentleman she chooses, and thus well kept and cared for. To strike out on one’s own and make one’s own way, especially in university halls, in medicine no less, as not only a woman but an enchanting one at that, is an honorable and admirable feat. If it pleases,” Rowan smiled at her with such genuineness it set her heart to flutter.

“My,” Helen stared at her, at a complete loss for what to make of this rare and beautiful creature before her, nor what to make of the foreign feelings swirling inside her.

“You are unique, Lady Helen, and utterly enchanting. I find myself entirely enraptured by you. I would consider myself most fortunate to find myself blessed with the pleasure of your continued companionship during my stay in London. Might I call on you in the future, possibly engage the honor of your guidance round yon fair city?” she dipped a dramatic bow and a cheeky wink, the corner of her mouth quirking into a wry smile.

Helen felt her cheeks warm and was glad for the low light of the starlit garden to hide the color she knew must be there. This woman, the language and gestures were overtly intended as comical, though the affections were obviously genuine. Women did not behave this way toward other women, not in polite society or otherwise, and well-bred ladies attending university to become well respected doctors did not return feelings toward advances from mysterious women they had just met. And yet.

Helen curtsied low to match the obvious drama Rowan had displayed. “It would be my pleasure to accept your call, Miss Llewellyn, and I would be most happy to show you about London. After all, we can’t leave you unescorted on your first journey to our esteemed capital.” She smiled warmly down upon Rowan as the fire-haired maiden bent to kiss her hand, piercing green eyes never leaving her own twinkling blue, Helen’s pulse hammering in her ears.

The distant shuffle of footsteps, the rustle of leaves, faint voices calling out.

“Adieu and anon, Fair Lady. My gratitude for a moonlight stroll with such enchanting company.” Her lips brushed the back of Helen’s hand while she spoke, lingering as she gazed longingly into the intense crystal blue eyes of the radiant woman standing before her. Eyes full of wonder, a playful smile tugging the corners of full supple lips, angelic blond curls spilling over smooth bare shoulders, maroon satin ruched just so to accentuate supple rounded flesh peaking over the top of a shapely corseted bodice. The most beautiful woman she had ever seen, and she was unequivocally spellbound.

The distant shuffle now deliberate footfalls, faint voices now clearly men calling Helen’s name.

Lips pressed a gentle, intentional kiss firmly to the delicate hand she held as she forced herself to stand and pull away. “Tá tú chomh hálainn. Sweet night and pleasant dreamings to thee.” She bowed once more and backed away into the night, disappearing into the indistinguishable shadows of the moonlit garden, eyes still lingering on Helen’s even after the other woman had lost sight of her to the dark.

The crunch of gravel behind her finally tore Helen’s gaze away from the patch of shadow where the enigmatic Miss Rowan Llewellyn had vanished from her sight, the man’s voice breaking into the swirling multitude of thoughts and feelings coursing through her body, “There you are, Darling. Are you quite alright?”

“Yes, of course. Just taking in some air.” The man’s long arm wrapped about her waist, drawing her down the pathway, back toward the party. For a brief moment, she threw a fleeting glance over her shoulder hoping, well she wasn’t quite sure what for. Yet the moment passed, and she settled her stride to match her beau’s. “Shall we take a turn through Piccadilly this evening on the ride home?”

“We saw much of each other throughout the subsequent semester, both on and off campus. We shared several classes whose lectures we enthusiastically dissected with each other, but more than that it was simply thrilling to have a woman to socialize with who wasn’t looking down her nose at us for daring to have the unwomanly audacity to sit next to the men folk in the lecture halls vying for accolades and accreditation equal to theirs. It was a different time, Will, a different world. Women were meant to sit in parlors with their smallwork, to bear babies to their husbands, to organize charity galas, and to keep house. Education of that level for women was unheard of; studying philosophy, science, medicine, well that was the devil’s work.”

Will had listened to Helen’s tale in rapt silence, closely watching the two women sitting across from him. Their eyes had been on each other while Helen recounted their history, and based on the fleeting micro-expressions on their faces and the minute tells of their body language, it was rather clear to Dr. Zimmerman, profiler extraordinaire, that there was more to this story than was being put into words for his benefit. A lot more.

“Well,” Rowan said, “I’m sure there’s questions you now have for Helen alone that you would prefer to ask in private. If the two of you will excuse me, I’ll take my leave of you for now and set about exploring this gorgeous place. I’d like some time to collect my thoughts and wander my own memories, anyway.”

Will tried to keep the surprise out of his expression as he stood to extend his temporary farewells. It was absolutely true that he wanted to talk to Magnus privately for the moment, but he hadn’t the faintest idea how Rowan had known that.

She stood and leaned over Helen, lips caressing her ear as she barely breathed, “I’ll find you later,” too quietly for Will to hear. She then brushed a gentle kiss against the sweep of her neck and left the room in a quiet rustle of green.

Heat rose to Helen’s cheeks as she watched her go, the loose and flowing construction of her dress allowing far more of the shape of her body to be viewed than the many-layered garments of the late Victorian era that she had worn when Helen knew her last. Helen realized she’d been staring after her, and dropped her gaze to the hands clasped in her lap, painfully aware that she was blushing and Will’s keen eye would not miss that fact.

She could feel his penetrating gaze on her as he analyzed what he had just heard and seen and assessed how best to go about getting the information he wished to know.

“Go ahead, Will,” she said calmly. “Ask what you wish to know. I’ll answer. Every room, every door, right?”

“Magnus, this has nothing to do with us working together. This isn’t a patient or a case. This is your personal life. I have no right to pry, nor to demand full disclosure. My questions are merely curiosity from the perspective of a new friend who would like to get to know you better.”

“Go ahead,” she repeated.

Will cleared his throat. “Alright.” He sat forward in his chair, fingers laced, forearms propped on his thighs, eyes focused on her face. “Did, uh, did you two have, um… Did you have a thing?”

Magnus let out a chuckle at his awkwardness as she looked up at him. “No, we did not have ‘a thing’. Mutual attraction, some seriously intense sexual tension, a handful of hidden coatroom kisses. But nothing ever came of any of it.”

Will’s eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline, bringing a grin to Magnus’ face.

“What, because I’m a relic straight out of good ol’ Victorian England, I can’t have kissed a girl and liked it?”

Now it was Will’s turn to feel heat in his cheeks. “No, I just…. What happened?”

“It was All Hallow’s Eve 1885. I was throwing a party, bit of a masquerade. Music, horderves, dancing, drinks. Some fellows from school, some ladies that I knew from our presentation days, some colleagues of my father’s who mostly kept to his library so as not to ‘spoil the fun for the young folks’. Everyone bedecked with masks, offering a bit of anonymity and allowing folks to mingle a bit more freely than they would have otherwise. There had been no receiving line, and I had arrived half an hour into the affair myself, so that no one knew who anyone else was. Everyone danced and milled about having anonymous conversations, it was a grand time. The soiree had been in full swing for about two hours or so, and most of the gentlemen had retired to the front parlor for cigars and brandys, leaving the gaggle of masked ladies to partner with each other on the dance floor, giggling and gossiping. There was a knock at the door, and our man escorted a late guest who had finally arrived to the ballroom. She cut a striking figure in a stunning sleeveless ballgown; black corset with blood red boning, a panel of black lace down the back behind the blood red laces, the voluminous skirt alternating panels of black and red, studded with sparkling gemstones of the opposite color in swirling patterns down the full length of the skirt. Red jewels hung from her neck, and black from her ears, she wore an elaborate mask dancing with gems that shone in the candlelight, as was the call for the night, it obscured her whole face. Yet there was no mistaking that hair. Laced through with sprigs of black pearls, twisted and coiffed and curled into the very definition of elegance, the waves cascading down the center of her back, brushing the waist of her gown, and red as fire rubies.

“She glided across the room, curtsied, and escorted me onto the dance floor where she twirled me about as effortlessly as if we were dancing on clouds, and for the way it felt, maybe we were. By the end of the third song, we had somehow made our way to the doorway of the salon that was serving as coatroom for the duration of the masquerade. She spun me through the doors, had them closed behind us, and was turning me through the final steps of the dance all in one liquid movement. She danced us farther into the room, deeper amidst the rows of racks of coats and furs, further into the shadows. Her eyes held me rapt, my heart in my throat, as she gingerly pulled the mask from my face, smiling, stroking my cheek.

“Your ensemble is stunning, my Lady, but I would gaze upon thy lovely face,” she said. She tugged at the ribbons of her own mask and, once removed, tossed them both onto a chair in the corner, taking my hands in hers. Her eyes. My God, it was like she was trying to drink me up with them. She drew her hands up my arms, across my shoulders, up the sides of my neck. My skin tingled and pulsed under her touch. Those eyes, they searched my face, looking deep for something. They found it, or maybe didn’t, depending on exactly what she was looking for; because then, her right hand still cupping the side of my neck, her left sliding around to cradle the back of my head, she drew me to her, ever so slowly, bent her head, eyes still boring right into me the whole time, and she kissed me. Slow, gentle, lingering, tender. Each caress of lips so deliberate. She held my face, and she breathed in to me, her tongue ran lightly across my lower lip, then she was kissing me again, my lip between hers, sucking ever so softly. My whole body was on fire, I could feel each and every nerve where her skin touched my bare flesh, all of them quivering with desire, and I was intimately aware of the length of her pressed against the length of me as we stood there lost to all the world, save each other. Her fingers slid into my hair at the base of my neck and her other hand glided its way down my back, stopping in that curve just above hips, and she pulled me tighter against her. I could feel the heat, the desire, rolling off her in waves, her breath coming in short gasps, yet every move she made remained very intentional, and the moment went on and on and on.

“I was no innocent maiden at that point in my life, Will. I was thirty-five and while some aspects of physical romance had not yet made themselves known to me, I wasn’t completely ignorant of it all. Now, well, I can assure you I am well and truly an experienced woman, but I have never been kissed like that in my life, ever.

“She drew back from my lips, her face hovering in front of mine, our foreheads almost touching, her breath quick and short, just as mine was, those vibrantly intense emerald eyes of hers staring straight into my soul. For a long moment, she just stood there looking at me, stone still except for the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Then she pressed her cheek to mine, her lips brushing against my left ear, her breath tickling the few loose ringlets that fell down my neck, and she whispered to me, “I’ve been dying to do that from the moment I first laid eyes on you.” I could feel her smile against my ear. ”I wanted the first kiss I gave you to be one that you would never forget.”

“She let go of me all at once, dropping into a sweeping bow, “Fair night, lovely Lady, and sweet dreamings to thee.” With a flourish, she swept out of the room and was gone.”

Helen’s breathing had quickened with the memory of the kiss, her fingers unconsciously on her lips, and she sat silently, trying to quell the tingling nerves crawling across her skin.

“Wow,” Will uttered, almost to himself.

“That kiss was the singular most paramount experience of my life. Believe me, I’ve had plenty of monumental comparisons by which to judge it.” Helen took a deep, steadying breath. “Things only got more intense from there. On the Christmas Eve of 1891 we held a small get together, just a handful of closest friends, to exchange gifts, eat, drink, and make merry. No band, no ballroom, just an intimate gathering in the salon. I had dismissed the staff for the week to spend time with their families, and so I was playing full hostess that night. The six of us were sitting informally in the salon trading stories and catching up on each other’s lives, we had gone a bit separate ways since Oxford, but we still got together for special occasions. At one point, I had gotten up to take something to or retrieve something from the kitchens- I don’t remember what now- but as I was down the hall, closer to the kitchen than the salon, Rowan caught up to me. She had excused herself from the men and had followed me out. No sooner had I turned around to the sound of her footsteps than she had her hands on my hips, pushing me into an alcove in the wall- someplace we’d be out of the line of eyesight should anyone else leave the salon- her lips on mine, kissing me fervently. She pressed me into the wall, her hands sliding up my sides as she kissed at my neck, my collar bone, across the neckline of my dress, back up my neck, across the line of my jaw. I was panting, my hands running the length of her back, trying to draw her closer to me. Her hips pressed against mine, her strong delicate hands stroked their way up my chest as she ran them up my arms, holding my wrists against the wall above my head, kissing me again and again, harder, with more desperation.

“The whole length of her body now pressed against mine as she held me against the wall, her free hand drawing my skirt toward my waist, her fingertips brushed the bare skin of my thigh, and she traced them up my leg, drawing my knee up to rest on her hip bone, her hand then sliding back to cup my bum. I couldn’t kiss her hard enough, fast enough, deep enough; I just wanted more of her- I wanted all of her.

“Pulling my hips harder against hers, she drew her lips away from mine, again running kisses down and up my neck, a shudder of pleasure coursing through my whole body. Then her whisper brushed against my ear, just as it always did, “My gods, do you have any idea how exquisite you are? I just couldn’t stand it any longer, sitting in there watching you from across the room, not being able to touch you. Is ar éigean is féidir liom é a iompróidh.” She glided the hand she had under my bum up my abdomen and wrapped it around my right breast, squeezing gently, and she kissed me again; deep, passionate, full of hunger and desire, but tender, intentional. “Oh, gods.” She breathed against my gasping mouth, her breath just as ragged and erratic as mine. “Tá m’intinn caillte, you drive me crazy! I swear, I can’t think when you’re around.”

I laughed at her at that, “Oh, please. You’re one of the smartest people I know, and we always talk about the latest scientific advancements, we’ve traded philosophical views for years, you’re knowledge of the arts is vast beyond imagining and you’ve schooled me on more than one o-” Her mouth pressing over mine stopped my train of thought as well as my words.

“Bíodh sin mar atá, I can’t think of anything but you when you’re around. You tucked that errant lock of hair behind your ear earlier, and all I wanted to do was kiss you here,” her lips brushed across my ear, “and here,” the bit of tender flesh just behind the lobe, “and here,” up and down the side of my neck. “You had a bit of jelly tart,” she brushed delicate fingertips across the corner of my mouth, “and I just wanted to,” her tongue flicked across the same spot, then traced my swollen lips before she pressed hers over them again. “You leaned down to set the tea on the table in front of me, and I,” her eyes were watching my chest rise and fall in heavy, panting breaths, her hands sliding over me cupping the underside of my bosom, her hot shallow breath on my skin as she kissed feverishly along the tops of my bare breasts where my corset spilled them out the top of my dress. She muttered into my chest, the exact words muffled and lost in the press of flesh. Their meaning, however, was quite clear. She was just as aroused and hungry as I was, and she also knew just as well as I did that there was nothing to be done about it.

“Don’t look at me like that, Will. It simply wasn’t done in those days, and as open-minded and forward thinking as I have always been, there were some conventions of society that just couldn’t be broken until times had changed enough for me to still keep my feet under me if anything was ever discovered. I was building the Network, after all, and it was a cause just as important to Rowan as it was to me. We both understood what was at stake, and we were both willing to put our personal desires aside for the sake of larger things. Not to mention, we weren’t alone. Four well-known, upstanding, and revered men sitting in my salon at that very moment, one my father. What, precisely, do you think would have happened if we had just disappeared to my bedchamber to conduct our affair?

“With sighs of frustration from our lips and longing in our eyes, we parted ways to compose ourselves and rejoin the rest of our assemblage. Rowan set off to the powder room, and then the kitchen to collect whatever it was I was supposed to be bringing back with me. She’d make my excuses to the boys and garner me a bit more time to get myself together, which I sorely needed.

“A few moments quiet to myself, my legs too weak to hold me without the support of the walls, I was propped in that alcove, my skirts wrinkled, my hair mussed, my breasts spilling a bit overmuch from my neckline. I might have known it was best not to act upon the desires burning within me with Rowan, but I was neither inexperienced nor prude enough to be closed to the notion of acting upon them by myself, if for no other reason than to satisfy my arousal enough to be able to return to my father’s presence without fantasies of a sexy female abnormal flooding my thoughts. So in the handful of minutes that I had left before I was missed overmuch, my own fingers found their way beneath the hem of my skirts and worked at the places Rowan couldn’t touch while the rest of my body quivered with the memory of her caresses still fresh on my flesh.”

Will’s face was so flushed, Magnus thought he might faint. “You did ask to hear this, did you not?” she asked him, a suppressed smile twitching at the corners of her mouth anyway.

“Well, yeah, I just-” He stopped, cleared his throat, started again, “I guess I just didn’t expect that this story would include you, um, well…” He stopped again and made no attempt to continue.

“Did you think me incapable?”

“What? No! I mean, I’d never considered… Uh-” Will floundered miserably, stuttering. Then he noticed the teasing smile spreading on Magnus’s lips and the mischievous glimmer in her eyes. “Ah, I see.” He smiled ruefully.

“I am sorry that I’ve embarrassed you, Will. But history lessons about Rowan and I don’t much come without kisses and fondling in some form or other.”

A bit of the extra color had left Will’s cheeks as he flopped back in the armchair, “Jesus. But I don’t understand, you were both obviously into each other, like seriously into each other. I mean, that’s pretty hot and heavy, Magnus. How did you get from that to ‘nothing ever came of any of it’?”

Magnus sighed, a wistful smile playing across her lips. “May Day, 1898, she showed up at a garden party I was hosting. She made eyes to me from across the lawn and disappeared into the house. I excused myself from the group of guests I had been talking to, and I followed her. Once inside, I began hunting through the rooms for where she had gone. As I passed the parlor door, a hand reached out and pulled me inside, sliding the door closed behind me. In the stretch of a blink she had closed the distance, wrapped one hand around my neck and the other about my waist, and her lips were pressed to mine. Delicate, tender, slow. Like the first time. She took her time, gently caressing me with her supple lips. Time slowed, the world disappeared, we were the only two beings in all of existence. When our lips parted, her eyes were more intense than I’d ever seen them before. She took my hands, and her look took on a somber quality.

“Run away with me, Helen,” she said.

Helen let out a peal of ringing laughter. “Be serious, Rowan. Run away? To where, why? Our lives are here, our friends are here, our work is here.”

“I am serious. You’ve been through so much these last years, you need time, you need respite in which to heal. You always spend so much time taking care of everyone else, you take care of the whole world, but you need taking care of too.”

“I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you.” Helen smiled in mock offense.

“Yes, I know, but you don’t. You never save any time for yourself.” Rowan dropped her hands and paced anxiously across the floor. Frustration at an inability to express herself was clear in her countenance. “I don’t mean we should disappear, much as I envy the idea of falling off the face of the earth with you. But we could go for a time. Take a trip, we’ll go anywhere you wish. There’s so much of the world it would give me great pleasure to show you.” She turned back to face the golden haired beauty standing in the center of the room; soft sunlight gleaming in her sapphire eyes, playing across the highlights of her delicate curls setting them on fire, creating a fitting halo about her elegant face. Rowan’s pounding heart caught in her throat at the sight. She’s magnificent, she thought, the most glorious creature ever to exist. She’s witty, and charming, and brilliant- one of the foremost minds in the world… and she can’t even see how I feel about her. “Just the two of us, in some far off city, exploring the culture by day,” her vibrant, mossy eyes drank in the length of Helen’s stunning figure, “exploring each other by night. Do come, we could be on the train tonight. Ní fheiceann tú go bhfuil grá agam duit?”

“As enticing as that proposition is, there’s simply far too much to be done right now. With Father away someone has to keep everything in order; the expansions to the Sanctuary, we’re taking on new residents by the dozen, cataloguing the correspondences he’s sending back, to say nothing of the massive shipment he’s sent. I’ve barely even gotten half of it unboxed.” Helen closed the distance between the two women.

“What about James, he could-” Helen laid a gentle finger across Rowan’s lips, silencing her.

“It’s just not possible right now. Too much is at stake, not the least of which if anyone were to see us….” Her words trailed, leaving the harsh reality of the situation unspoken. She slowly twined her arms around Rowan’s waist, palms flat against her back, drawing their bodies closer. “In the meantime,” she smiled, removing the remaining distance between their lips, electricity sparking between them, mouths pressed fervently together, Rowan’s fingers twisting their way into Helen’s curls, soft moans escaping from both mouths.

“This isn’t the end of this conversation, Fairest Lady,” breathless voice emanating through a cheshire grin reaching all the way to probing eyes captivated by the face they witnessed. “I will give you time to get your affairs in order, and I shall ask you again. Perchance you shall be less thoroughly engaged with other pursuits by Midsommer.”

“She wrapped her arms tighter and drew me closer to her. She kissed me like her life depended on it, long and slow, every feeling either of us had ever had for the other all pressed into that single joining of lips. She lingered, like she couldn’t bear to part, and I couldn’t either. When she did pull away, pulled so very slowly away, her eyes on mine, like she was memorizing every facet and shift of color, she brushed her thumb gently over my lips, one final caress. Crossing back to the door, she slipped her hand into the gap and slid one side back into its pocket in the wall. She winked at me, her devilish grin full of cheek, and was gone.

“After a few moments to compose myself and a quick glance in the mirror above the fireplace to make sure my hair was still in place, I smoothed my skirts and followed her through the doorway.

“I didn’t see her for the next fifty-one days, an attempted correspondence elicited a simple written reply, ‘I shan’t engage your attention toward pursuits other than thy current occupation of settling affairs into order, thus possibly engaging another dismissal of my petition for your attendance on holiday.’ Midsommer arrived, and my nerves were fluttering all day long. I had not realized how much comfort I had gotten used to drawing from her steadfast company. I missed her fiercely, and the desperate desire to see her again consumed me.

“Finally, half an hour before the meal was called, I saw her enter the drawing room. I started to make my way across the room toward her, but halfway to her my course was diverted by some associates of a colleague of mine who wished to discuss some funding we had requested for one of our ventures.

“I thought to join her at table, but she wasn’t there. After, when the men retired for cigars and brandy and the women tucked in to gossip, I excused myself and began hunting through the house. She was here somewhere, tucked away in some empty room far from the rest of the gathered crowds, awaiting the chance to steal kisses behind the drapery and in the alcoves, just as she always was. Yet there was no sign of her, and upon inquiry the doorman announced he had seen her depart rather quickly just as everyone had been settling into the dining hall.”

“In the weeks that followed, when she never made an appearance at any of the various social functions, was absent from the music halls and the theatres, didn’t pay a call to any of her friends in residence at the Sanctuary, a dark knot of certainty settled itself in the pit of my stomach. I called to her apartments, even though in my heart I already knew what I would find. “She’s not here, Miss. Took a carriage out well after dark back Midsommer night, loaded down with trucks she was. Left instruction to place the rest of her belongings into storage. Ent leave no forwarding address,” her porter told me when I enquired at the door.

“She was gone.” Magnus’s unseeing eyes stared ahead, looking through the arcane mists of the past, recalling times long gone. Not for the first time, Will wondered just how much had transpired between them that had gone unsaid.

“I never saw her again. Not until she walked in here today like a ghost straight out of memory locked away long ago. I had begun to wonder if she was even still alive.”

Will sat quietly, staring out the window. He could think of nothing to say that wouldn’t fall far short of the response that her tale deserved.

“Will?”

“Yeah, Magnus. What is it?”

“I’m done talking for now. I think I’d like to be alone.”

“Yeah, of course.” Will stepped into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind himself, leaving Magnus to her memories.

Helen Magnus stood on a parapet of the tower jutting from the Sanctuary roof, watching the dying sun set the skyline of Old City on fire. She snugged her shawl around her shoulders against the wind, her chocolate locks lifting off her shoulders in soft waves.

“I had a feeling I’d find you up here,” the melodic voice from behind her sent a warm shiver up her spine. How quickly feelings long buried could wash back over you as if it were just yesterday you had felt them in the first place. Rowan soundlessly stepped up beside her, “It’s beautiful. Cé nach bhfuil sé chomh hálainn leat. I can see why you picked this spot.”

They stood in silence, gazing out at the last breaths of the day falling across the city that Helen had made her home for the last ninety years.

“Why did you leave?” Helen watched the final rays of light shine across the peaks of the cityscape.

“I’m sorry, leannán, I swore a promise. It’s not important anyway. You had work to do, and by the looks of it, you’ve done it well. My path lay elsewhere. What matters to me is that we are together now. I’ve missed you.”

Helen turned to face her, the dying light setting diamonds to sparkle in her deep blue eyes. She smiled. “I am very glad to see you.” Rowan’s arms wrapped around her shoulders as she leaned her head against Rowan’s chest. The pair stood on the roof embraced that way as the full moon climbed high into the sky.

“Come,” Helen said once the orb had reached its zenith. “I think I’ve the perfect room for you.”

Rowan gently kissed the top of Helen’s head and stepped to the roof floor, offering her hand to Helen. She took it and, after stepping to the floor herself, they walked hand in hand back into Helen’s home.

Once back inside, they stopped at the first landing. At Rowan’s raised brows, Helen grinned and threw the door in front of them wide. It opened on a large square room ringed in oversized stained glass windows, though the ones to their left were doors leading to a small balcony overlooking the water, the tall ceiling all exposed rafters and stonework, gaslight sconces adorned the walls and a single gas chandelier hung from the central beam of the ceiling. Helen strode into the middle of the room where she turned circles with her arms held out from her sides, a playful smile making her mischievous eyes twinkle. “Well?”

“Déithe, it’s beautiful,” Rowan smiled, joining Helen in the middle of the gothic revival-esque room, turning a slow circle herself.

“It’s away from the rest of the rooms, so you’ll have plenty of privacy, it’s got views for days, we can make any changes or additions to it you’d like, I want you to feel at home here. There is one other, small benefit to this particular room’s location. I rarely sleep these days, not much anyway, and I spend much of my time on the tower roof at night. On occasion, one might happen to hear the sounds of a sleepless woman climbing the stairs outside their door and decide to mount the roof to offer the company of an old friend.” She quirked a conspiratorial smile.

“Well, in that case, I’d say it’s perfect. Thank you, Helen.”

“Welcome to the Sanctuary.”

#sanctuary #helen magnus #will zimmerman #fanfic #nsftumblr

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