#duncan and mackenzie shepherd

[witchqueenofthemoon]

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

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

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

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

EPILOGUE

ONE YEAR AFTER THE WEDDING

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The world was changing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In that small cafe, the park across the way…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Evening came on the garden house.

[codyfernaesthetic]

Someone please stop me I made more

@witchqueenofdarkness

[jamieatthebarricade]

Maids to Wives / Chapter 2

An Outlander AU based loosely on the TV Show and real life in the historic Jamestown

In 1619, one hundred and forty-four English women from good families crossed the Atlantic in response to the Virginia Company of London’s call for maids “young and corrupt” to make wives for the planters of it’s new colony in Virginia. One in six of the maids could even claim gentry status. Although promised a free choice of husband, they were in effect being traded into marriage for a bride price of 150 pounds of best leaf tobacco, the profits to flow to individual investors

In 1619, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp made the voyage to do one thing: marry a man she's never met. But when she arrives, she comes to the startling realization that her heart belongs to someone else, a certain James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser.

Chapter 2/? : Land Ho!

Read the previous chapter here

May 15th, 1619, Claire’s POV

Diary Entry #1

It’s been a few weeks on board and, thankfully, the weather has been particularly kind to us: the roughness at sea has diminished greatly. This lucky turn of events has lead to a lower death count, only three so far.Everyone is looking forward to leaving this ship, the captain says that land is close. I can feel the excitement oozing from our cabin.

This is why I decided to start a diary. I would’ve earlier, but the constant sound of women hurling and the sick cloud of air that surrounded me, it made it hard to gather my thoughts properly. Now that the ocean is calm and land is close I thought it best to start a diary, a place where I can keep a detailed log of my life in the new world. Maybe my future children will read it and have a better understanding of the strain many of us went through for a better life.

Today, Geillis taught me and Mary some Gaelic. So far the phrases I know are Sassenach (that’s what me and Mary are), Besom (a term of contemptment, especially for a woman), and Mo Caraidh (My friend, Geillis has been calling me that since being taught the word). Apparently, there are a few Scots in Jamestown, so knowing Gaelic would be helpful if one of us were to marry one. If I were to, I hope Geillis would teach me more words of endearment in the language. 

Along with a quick language lesson, the 3 of us exchanged stories from our childhoods and what not. Geillis’s family were shepherds who made yarn, which would be useful in Jamestown. Mary was born into a wealthy family, which wouldn’t be all that helpful, but she was meek and obedient enough to make a good wife. As for me, my childhood on the road would seem to be just as useless, as-

“What are you writing Claire?” Mary asked, breaking my train of thought. The writer's haze I was in broke, and I already saw most of the page filled up.

“A diary, to keep track of what happens day to day.” I smiled, thinking about how useful this would be to future generations. “I want my children to be able to read about how their mother came to Jamestown”

I thought of children equally frightening and exciting. To know there was someone in the world that was a part of me gave me a warm feeling of enthusiasm. But there was also the feeling of fear, I knew all too well the horrors of childbirth and what pregnancy could do to a woman. I saw it in my own mother, and other mothers down the road. I even knew women closely who died trying to give birth. The screams of pain and agony from birth usually drowned out those feelings of excitement, but as a woman I needed to be willing and ready to start a family with my new husband, even if it wasn’t my choosing.

“I don’t think I ever want to have children” Mary remarked meekly beside me. “They’re slimy and gross, and I’ve seen a woman give birth once! It looked dreadfully painful”. Mary was a fairly small individual, from just looking at her she didn’t look fit to carry a child for 9 months. That fear struck me, of losing anyone on this ship to childbirth. It was expected, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. I put my own terror aside and took her hand warmly. “Children aren’t so bad. God gave us women the power to carry on the future generations as seen fit, we might as well use our ability” another woman beside me remarked. I remembered this woman as Shona Macneill. She was a harty woman, a widower from the Scottish Highlands. Unlike the rest of us, she wasn’t here from a man. She came on her own accord to live with her sister and her husband. She acted as somewhat of a motherly figure to some of the younger girls who were terrified of marriage. “I gave birth myself once, it isn’t as bad as ye young women ken it is, it’s quite a beautiful process” She smiled to herself, probably remembering that day. I guess some could see the beauty in giving birth. I could not.

Geillis was sitting beside Mary, where she had been writing her own thoughts in her own notebook. She cleared her throat, alerting both of us to listen in.

“If ye need Mary, I know a remedy to prevent the whole mess all together” Mary’s mouth hung open, and I was sincerely hoping she would keep her mouth shut. I wasn’t blind to Geillis’ medical practices, I heard her mentioning similar plants and potions to other women on the ship. It wasn’t something many women wanted to discuss, but the thought of getting out of a pregnancy was intriguing to some. Women like Mrs. Macneill would despise the thought of getting rid of “God’s creation”. I just hoped she didn’t overhear the conversation Geillis was having with some of the maids.

Unfortunately, she did overhear. “A remedy to get rid of a child is Satan’s work, only those who work for evil would think about getting rid of God's children '' Shona rose up, teetering slightly because of the rough waves. Her tone was accusatory, like she was a priest banishing a demon from her church. Geillis stood up as well, hands on her hips casually, but her face said anything but casual. “I ken’d it for sometime, but I had to hear it wi’ me own ears. Ye are evil, Geillis Duncan” She spit out her name, clutching the cross around her neck. Mrs. Macneill looked like she was about to launch herself at Geillis and fight, so I hastily placed myself between them. Geillis wasn’t holding back either, sending a piercing look through Macneill. The two women faced off, with me awkwardly in the middle, trying to break up a potential squamish.

“Witch.” Macneill spat, sending a large droplet at Geillis. It landed right on her check, but Geillis only wiped it off and looked Mrs. Macneill straight on, not letting her gaze falter.

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be ye name. They kingdom come, ye will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, and we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” Geillis spoke from memory. How she knew it was beyond me, but it shook off any suspicion Macneill had of her. Before Macneill could reply, a voice shouted from up above. “Land ho!” A male voice rang through, probably one of the sailors. Everyone forgot about the fight at hand and bounded up to the top deck. I grabbed Mary’s hand and made my way up as well. Sure enough when we reached the top, the light green of the new world came into full view.

We weren’t awfully close, another day until we would actually be at shore, but it was right in front of us, almost like we could touch it. I squeezed Mary’s hand before she enveloped me into a big hug. Geillis had made her way up as well, and joined in our shared excitement. 

In less than 24 hours, I would meet the man of my dreams and start the life I always wanted.

[pcssessivc-blog]

surnames:

a abbott abernathy adair adams adkins alexander allen allison andersen anderson andrews archer armstrong arsenault ashby ashworth atkinson austin ayers 

b bailey bain baker baldwin ball ballard banks barnes barnett barr barrett barry bartlett barton bateman bauer beck bell bennett benson bentley benton bird bishop black blackburn blackwell blair blake bolton bond bowen bowers bowman boyd boyle bradford bradley bradshaw brady brennan brewer briggs brooks broussard brown bruce bryant buchanan buckley bullock burgess burke burnham burns burton butcher butler byrne 

c cahill caldwell calhoun callahan cameron campbell cannon cantrell carey carlson carney carpenter carr carroll carson carter carver casey cassidy castillo castro chandler chaney chapman chase chavez christian christie church churchill clancy clarke clay clayton clifford cobb cochran coffey cole coleman collier collins combs compton conley connell connolly conrad conway cook cooke cooley cooney cooper copeland corbett costello coughlin cowan cox coyle coyne craig crawford crockett cross crowley cruz cunningham curran curtis 

d daley dalton daly daniel daniels daugherty davenport davidson davies davis dawson day dean delaney dempsey devine diaz dickey dickinson dillon dixon dobson dodd doherty dolan donahue donaldson donnelly donovan dougherty douglas dowd downey doyle drake drew driscoll duckworth dudley dugan duncan dunlap dunn dwyer 

e eaton edmonds edwards egan elliott ellis emery erickson evans 

f fallon fanning farley faulkner ferguson fernandez finch finn finnegan fischer fitzgerald fitzpatrick fitzsimmons flanagan fletcher flores flynn foley forbes ford foster fowler fox franklin fraser freeman frost fry fuller 

g gallagher galloway garcia gardner garner garrett garrison garza gauthier gentry george gibbons gibbs gibson gilbert gill gillespie glass gonzales goode goodwin gordon grace grady graham grant graves gray greene greer gregory griffin griffith gunn gustafson guthrie 

h hackett hagan hahn hale haley hall halsey hamilton hammond hampton hancock hanley hanna hansen harding hardy harper harrington harris harrison hart hartley harvey hastings hatch hawkins hayden hayes haynes healy heath henderson henry hensley hernandez hewitt hickey hickman hicks higgins hill hodges hoffman hogan holbrook holden holland hollis holloway holman holmes holt hood hooper hopkins hopper horton houghton houston howard howe howell hubbard huber hudson huffman hughes hull humphrey humphries hunt hunter hurley hurst hutchinson hutchison 

i ingram 

j jackson jacobs james jamison jarvis jensen johnson jones jordan joyce 

k kane kearney keating keegan keene kehoe keith kelleher keller kelly kemp kendall kennedy kent kerr kidd kilgore kincaid king kinney kirby kirk kirkland kirkpatrick klein knight koch koenig krause 

l lacroix lafferty lake lamont lancaster lane larkin larsen law lawrence lawson leblanc lee leslie levesque lewis lindsay little lloyd lockhart long lopez love lowe lucas lynch lyons 

m macdonald macgregor mackay mackenzie mackinnon maclean macleod macmillan macpherson madden maher mahoney maldonado malloy malone maloney manning marsh marshall martin martinez mason massey matthews maurer maxwell may maynard mcallister mcbride mccabe mccaffrey mccain mccall mccann mccarthy mccartney mcclellan mcconnell mccormack mccoy mccullough mccurdy mcdaniel mcdaniel mcdermott mcdonald mcdonough mcdowell mcgrath mcgraw mcgregor mcguire mchugh mcintosh mcintyre mckay mckee mckenna mckenzie mckinley mckinney mckinnon mcknight mclain mcleod mcmahon mcmillan mcnally mcnamara mcneill mcpherson mcqueen mead meadows medina meier melton merritt meyer middleton miles miller mitchell molloy monaghan monroe montgomery moody mooney moore morales moran moreno morgan morris morrison morrow moss mueller munn munro murdock murphy murray myers 

n nash neal nelson neville newton nichols nicholson nielsen noble nolan norris north norwood 

o o'brien o'connell o'connor o'donnell o'grady o'hara o'keefe o'leary o'neal o'neill o'reilly o'rourke o'sullivan ogden oliver olson orr ortega ortiz owens 

p page palmer parker parks parrish parsons patterson patton payne pearson penn pennington pereira peters peterson phillips pierce pike piper pittman pollard pollock poole porter potter powell power powers pratt preston price prince pritchard proctor pruitt purcell putnam 

q quinlan quinn 

r rafferty ralston ramirez ramos ramsey randall rankin ray reece reed reeves regan reid reilly reyes reynolds rhodes richards richardson riley ritchie rivera roberts robertson robinson roche rodgers rodriguez rollins romero rooney rose ross rossi roth rowe roy russell russo ryan 

s salisbury sampson sanders sandoval santiago saunders sawyer schaefer schmidt schneider schofield schroeder schultz schwartz scott sears serrano sharp shaw shea sheehan shelton shepherd sheridan sherwood shields short simmons simpson sims sinclair skinner slattery sloan smart smith snow snyder somerville soto sparks spears spence spencer stack stafford stanley stanton steele stephens stevens stevenson stewart stiles stokes stone strickland strong stuart suarez sullivan sutherland sutton sweeney 

t taylor temple tennant thomas thompson thomson thornton thorpe thurston tierney tilley timmons tobin todd torres townsend trevino tucker turner 

u underwood upton 

v vance vaughan vega vogel 

w walker wallace walsh walton ward ware warner warren watkins watson weaver webb weber weeks wells welsh wentworth west whalen wheeler whitaker white wiley wilkinson williams williamson willis willoughby wilson wood woodard woodruff woods woodward wren wright wyatt 

y yates york young 

z ziegler

[bootlegsandchill-blog]

New, revised, and updated bootleg list!

•1776 Pro shot, good quality, I don’t know what cast or year.

•25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee OBC Broadway Lisa Howard (Rona Lisa Peretti), Jay Reiss (Douglas Panch), Derrick Baskin (Mitch Mahoney), Celia Keenan-Bolger (Olive Ostrovsky), Dan Fogler (William Barfee), Sarah Saltzberg (Logainne SchwartzandGrubenierre), Deborah S Craig (Marcy Park), Jesse Tyler Ferguson (Leaf Coneybear), Jose Llana (Chip Tolentino)

•3 musketeers- Beverly 23 August Pro shot Cast: Kevyn Morrow, John Schiappa, Jimmy Smagula, Aaron Tveit, Kate Baldwin, Chad Ackerman, Mark Aldrich

•A Bronx Tale - Broadway November 14, 2016 OBC Nick Cordero (Sonny), Richard H. Blake (Lorenzo), Bobby Conte Thornton (Calogero), Ariana DeBose (Jane), Lucia Giannetta (Rosina), Bradley Gibson (Tyrone), Hudson Loverro (Young Calogero)

•A Chorus Line - OBC Archived Black and White Scott Allen (Roy), Renee Baughman (Kristine), Carole Bishop (Sheila), Pamela Blair (Val), Wayne Cilento (Mike), Chuck Cissel (Butch), Clive Clerk (Larry), Kay Cole (Maggie), Ronald Dennis (Richie), Donna Drake (Tricia), Brandt Edwards (Tom), Patricia Garland (Judy), Carolyn Kirsch (Lois), Ron Kuhlman (Don), Nancy Lane (Bebe0, Baayork Lee (Connie), Prscilla Lopez (Diana), Robert LuPone (Zach), Cameron Mason (Mark), Donna McKenchie (Cassie), Don Percassi (Al), Michael Serrecchia (Frank), Michel Stuart (Greg), Thomas J Walsh (Bobby), Sammy Williams (Paul), Crissy Wilzak (Vicki)

•A Chorus Line - Broadway Preview September 30th 2006 ORC (Ken Alan, Brad Anderson, Michelle Aravena, David Baum, Michael Berresse, E. Clayton Cornelious, Natalie Cortez, Mike Cannon, Charlotte D'Amboise, Mara Davi, Joey Dudding, Lyndy Franklin, Jessica Lee Goldyn, Deidre Goodwin, Tyler Hanes, Nadine Isenegger, Pamela Jordan, James T. Lane, Lorin Latarro, Paul McGill, Heather Parcells, Michael Paternostro, Alisan Porter, Jeffrey Schecter, Yuka Takara, Jason Tam, Grant Turner, Chryssie Whitehead, Tony Yazbeck)

•A Christmas Story- Broadway November 7, 2012 Dan Lauria (Jean Shepherd), John Bolton (The Old Man), Erin Dilly(Mother), Johnny Rabe (Ralphie), Zac Ballard (Randy), Caroline O'Connor (Miss Shields)

•Aida- Broadway 12 December 2001 Cast: Maya Days, Matt Bogart (u/s), Idina Menzel

•Ain’t Misbehaving OBC, other than that, I don’t know what cast or date

•Aladdin (Alan Menken)- Broadway August 22 2014 OBC Cast: Aladdin: Adam Jacobs, Jasmine: Courtney Reed, Genie: James Monroe Iglehart, Jafar: Jonathan Freeman, Sultan: Clifton Davis, Iago: Don Darryl Rivera, Babkak: Brian Gonzales, Omar: Andrew Cao (u/s), Kassim/Spooky Voice/Voice of the Cave: Brandon O’Neill, Razoul: Dennis Stowe, Prince Abdullah: Jaz Sealey, Shop Owner: Bobby Pestka, Henchmen: Donald Jones Jr, Aleks Pevec (u/s), Attendants: Tia Altinay, Khori Michelle Pentinaud, Marisha Wallace

•Aladdin (Cole Porter)- TV Broadcast 1958 Cast: Anna Maria Alberghetti, George Hall, Dennis King, Una Merkel, Sal Mineo, Basil Rathbone, Cyril Ritchard

•A Little Night Music- Broadway 2010 Bernadette Peters (Desiree Armfeldt), Elaine Stritch (Madame Armfeldt)

•Allegiance- Broadway 16 November 2015 OBC Cast: George Takei (Sam/Ojii-San), Lea Salonga (Kei), Telly Leung (Sammy), Katie Rose Clarke (Hannah), Michael K. Lee (Frankie), Christopheren Nomura (Tatsuo), Greg Watanabe (Mike)

•All Shook Up - Broadway OBC Jenn Gambatese (Natalie Haller/Ed), Johnathan Hadary (Jim Haller), Mark Price (Dennis), Sharon Wilkins (Sylvia), Nikki M James (Lorraine), Cheyenne Jackson (Chad), Alix Korey (Mayor Matilda Hyde), Cutis Holbrook (Dean Hyde), John Jellison (Sheriff Earl), Leah Hocking (Miss Sandra), Ensemble: Brad Anderson, Justin Bohon, Justin Brill, Paul Castree, Cara Cooper, Michael Cusumano, Francesca Harper, Trisha Jeffrey, Michelle Kittrell, Anika Larsen, Michael X Martin, Karen Murphy, John Eric Parker, Justin Patterson, Michael James Scott, Jenny-Lynn Suckling, Virginia Ann Woodruff

•LA December 4, 2016 Phillipa Soo (Amelie), Adam Chanler-Berat (Nino), Savvy Crawford (Young Amelie), Tony Sheldon ( Dufayel/Collignon), Alison Cimmet (Amandine/Philomene), Mandel Felciano (Raphael/Bretodeaux), Harriett D Foy (Suzanne), Randy Blair (Hipolito), Alyse Alan Louis(Georgette/Sylvie), Maria-Christina Oliveras (Gina), David Andino (Blind Beggar/Garden Gnome), Paul Whitty(Joseph/Fluffy), Heath Calvert (Lucien/Lug/Mysterious Man)

•Amélie (Broadway) − March 29, 2017 ***NFT AUGUST 1 2017*** : Philippa Soo (Amelie), Adam Chandler-Berat (Nino), Savvy Crawford (Young Amelie), Tony Sheldon (Dufayal/Colignon), Manoel Feliciano (Raphael/Bretodeaux), Alison Cimmet (Amandine/Philomene), Maria-Christina Oliveras (Gina), Harriet D. Foy (Suzanne), Alyse Ann Louis (Georgette), David Andino (Blind Beggar/Garden Gnome), Randy Blair (Hipoloto), Paul Whitty (Joseph)

•An American in Paris- Broadway March 14 2015 Cast: Robert Fairchild, Leanne Cope, Veanne Cox, Jill Paice, Brandon Uranowitz, Max von Essen

•Annie - US Tour January 30, 2010 Costa Mesa, CA Madison Kerth, David Barton, Lynn Andrews, Traci Bair, Zander Meisner, Cheryl Hoffmann, Jeffrey B. Duncan, Mackenzie Aladjem, Jordan Mariah Boezem, Roni Caggiano, Ivy Moody, Emily Rudolph, Laura Spineti, Ricky Pope, Kelly Goyette

•Annie - Broadway Revival October 15, 2012 Lilla Crawford (Annie), Katie Finneran (Miss Hannigan), Anthony Warlow (Mr Warbucks), J. Elaine Marcos (Lily St Regis), Brynn O'Malley (Grace), Clarke Thorell (Rooster), Madi Rae DiPietro (July), Georgi James (Pepper), Junah Jang (Tessie). Description: Clarity is gorgeous and there is literally no washout or bouncing. You can tell it was filmed at an angle and there are a couple small obstructions, but otherwise it’s very good quality. Quite a lot of full stage shots.

•Annie Get Your Gun 2006 Revival, I don’t know what cast.

•Anything Goes (Broadway) − April 3, 2011 Sutton Foster, Joel Grey, John McMartin, Jessica Walter, Colin Donnell, Adam Godley, Laura Osnes, Jessica Stone, Walter Charles, Robert Creighton.

•American Psycho - Broadway May 13, 2016 Benjamin Walker (Patrick Bateman), Helene Yorke (Evelyn Williams), Alice Ripley (Svetlana/Mrs. Bateman/Mrs. Wolfe), Jennifer Damiano (Jean), Drew Moerlein (Paul Owen), Dave Thomas Brown (David Van Patten)

•Anastasia Hartford, CT June 15, 2016 Matinee Christy Altomare (Anastasia), Derek Klena (Dmitry), Mary Beth Peil (Maria Feodorovna), Manoel Felciano (Gleb), John Bolton (Vlad), Caroline O'Connor (Lily), Nicole Scimeca (Young Anya)

•Asassins- Broadway May 29 2004 Cast: Neil Patrick Harris, Becky Ann Baker, James Barbour, Mario Cantone, Michael Cerveris, Mary Catherine Garrison, Alexander Gemignai, Marc Kudisch, Jeffrey Kuhn, and Denis O'Hare

•Asassins Original Off Broadway Cast

•Avenue Q - Broadway July 26, 2003 Preview  Jenifer Barnhart (Mrs. T/Bad Idea Bear), Jordan Gelber (Brian), Stephanie D´Abruzzo (Kate Monster/Lucy the Slut), John Tartaglia (Princeton/Rod), Ann Harada (Christmas Eve), Rick Lyon (Nicky/Trekkie Monster/Bad Idea Bear), Natalie Venetia Belcon (Gary Coleman)

•Barnum Live - TV Movie 1986 Michael Crawford (Phineas Taylor Barnum), Eileen Battye (Charity ‘Chairy’ Barnum), Michael Heath (Ringmaster), Christina Collier (Jenny Lind), Sharon Benson (Joice Heth), Paul Miller (Tom Thumb), Peter Barbour, Sue Barbour, Michael Cantwell, Perry Davey, James Francis Johnston, Graham Fawcett, Richard Gauntlett, Paul Goddard, Alan Heap, Amanda Newman, Joanne Robley-Dixon, Nadine Shenton, Debbie Steel, Christopher Talman, Jane Watts

•Beautiful- Broadway April 9 2014 Cast: Jessie Mueller, Jake Epstein, Anika Larsen, Jarrod Spector, Jeb Brown, Liz Larsen •Beauty and the Beast- Los Angeles 1995 Cast: Erin Dilly (Belle), James Barbour (The Beast), Burke Moses (Gaston), Gary Beach (Lumiere), Michelle Lee (Mrs. Potts), Peter Bartlett (Cogsworth), Tom Bosley (Maurice), Harrison Beal (Lefou)

•Billy Elliot- London 2005 Cast: Liam Mower (Billy), Brad Kavanagh (Michael), Brooke Havana Bailey (Debbie), Haydn Gwynne (Mrs Wilkinson), Philip Whitchurch (Dad), Chris Lennon (Tony), Ann Emery (Grandma), Alex Delamere (Mr Braithwaite), Paul Broughton (George)

•Bombshell Concert

•Bonnie & Clyde (Broadway) − November 9, 2011: Laura Osnes, Jeremy Jordan, Claybourne Elder, Melissa Van Der Schyff, Louis Hobson, Joe Hart, Talon Ackerman, Leslie Becker, Mimi Bessette, Alison Cimmet, Daniel Cooney, Jon Fletcher, Kelsey Fowler, Victor Hernandez, Michael Lanning, Garrett Long, Matt Lutz, Marissa McGowan, Tad Wilson.

•Bonnie and Clyde- La Jolla 14 November 2009 Cast: Laura Osnes, Stark Sands, Melissa van der Schyff, Claybourne Elder, Chris Peluso, Wayne Duvall, Mare Winningham, Michael Mulligan, Michael Lanning

•Book of Mormon - National Tour Chicago December 23, 2012 Nic Rouleau (Elder Price), Ben Platt(Elder Cunningham)

•Breakfast at Tiffany’s Broadway- March 9, 2013 Emilia Clarke (Holly Golightly), Cory Michael Smith (Fred), George Wendt(Joe Bell), James Yaegashi, Suzanne Bertish, John Rothman, Tony Torn, Lee Wilkof

•Bridges of Madison County- Broadway March 9 2014 Cast: Kelli O'Hara (Francesca), Steven Pasquale (Robert), Hunter Foster (Bud), Michael X. Martin (Charlie), Cass Morgan (Marge), Caitlin Kinnunen (Carolyn), Derek Klena (Michael), Whitney Bashor (Marian)

•Bring it on- Broadway, 24 October 2012 Cast: Taylor Louderman, Adrienne Warren, Ariana DeBose, Jason Gotay, Gregory Haney, Neil Haskell, Janet Krupin, Elle McLemore, Nicolas Womak

•Cabaret- Broadway November 20 2014 Cast: Alan Cumming, Emma Stone, Kristie Dale Sanders as (u/s) Fraulein Schneider, Philip Hoffman as (u/s) Herr Shultz, Bill Heck, Aaron Krohn, Gayle Rankin

•Camelot Broadway 1982 Proshot Cast: Richard Harris, Meg Bussert, Richard Muenz, Barry Ingham

•Carousel - Lincoln Center 2013 Kelli O’Hara, Jessie Mueller, Nathan Gunn, Jason Danieley, Stephanie Blythe, Alexander Gemignani

•Carousel 1994 Broadway no idea what cast or date

•Carrie- Off-Broadway March 18 2012 Cast: Molly Ranson (Carrie White), Anne Tolpegin (u/s Margaret White), Carmen Cusack (Miss Gardner), Christy Altomare (Sue Snell), Jeanna de Waal (Chris Hargensen), Derek Klena (Tommy Ross), Ben Thompson (Billy Nolan), Wayne Alan Wilcox (Mr. Stephens), Blair Goldberg (Norma), Jen Sese (Frieda), Corey Boardman (George), F. Michael Haynie (Freddy), Elly Noble (Helen), Andy Mientus (Stokes)

•Catch me if you can- Broadway, 27 April 2010 Cast: Aaron Tveit, Norbert Leo Butz, Tom Wopat, Kerry Butler, Joe Cassidy, Rachel deBenedit, Linda Hart, Timothy McCuen Piggee

•Cats- US tour, Boston 23 February 2007 Cast: Dave Schoonover (Tugger), Christopher E. Sidioli (Asparagus, Bustoher, Growltiger), Ian Lakowski (Munkustrap)

•Cats Broadway July 22, 2016 Leona Lewis (Grizabella), Tyler Hanes (Rum Tum Tugger), Ricky Ubeda (Mistoffelees), Quentin Earl Darrington (Old Deuteronomy), Eloise Kropp (Jennyanydots), Giuseppe Bausilio (Carbucketty), Jeremy Davis (Skimbleshanks), Kim Faure (Demeter), Sara Jean Ford (Jellylorum), Lili Froehlich (Electra), Daniel Gaymon (Macavity), Shonica Gooden (Rumpleteazer), Christopher Gurr (Gus/Bustopher Jones), Andy Huntington Jones (Munkustrap), Kolton Krouse (Tumblebrutus), Jess Le Protto (Mungojerrie), Georgina Pazcougin (Victoria), Emily Pynenburg (Cassandra), Arianna Rosario (SIllbub), Ahmad Smmons (Alonzo), Christine Cornish Smith (Bombalurina), Corey Snide (Coricopat), Emily Tate (Tantomile), Sharrod Wiliams (Pouncival)

•Chaplin Broadway August 22 2012 Cast: Rob McClure, Erin Mackey, Jenn Colella, Christiane Noll, Jim Borstelmann, Michael McCormick, Zachary Unger, Wayne Alan Wilcox.

•Charlie and the Chocolate Factory- London 22 January 2015 Cast: Alex Jennings (Willy Wonka), Zachary Loonie (Charlie Bucket), Vincent Finch (Augustus Gloop), Amy Carter (Veruca Salt), Rhianna Dorris (Violet Beauregarde), Daniel Rhodes (Mike Teavee), Billy Boyle (u/s Grandpa Joe)

•Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Broadway April 20, 2017 Preview ***NFT UNTIL SEPTEMBER 1, 2017*** Christian Borle (Willy Wonka), Ryan Foust (Charlie Bucket), John Rubinstein (Grandpa Joe), Emily Padgett (Mrs. Bucket), Ben Crawford (Mr. Salt), Kathy Fitzgerald (Mrs. Gloop), Alan H. Green (Mr. Beauregarde), Jackie Hoffman (Mrs. Teavee), Trista Dollison (Violet Beauregarde), F. Michael Haynie (Augustus Gloop), Emma Pfaeffle (Veruca Salt), Michael Wartella (Mike Teavee)

•Chess - Original Broadway Cast June 25, 1988 Final Show Judy Kuhn, David Carroll, Phillip Casnoff, Marcia Mitzman, Harry Goz

•Cinderella 1965 Movie (Not the one with Julie Andrews)

•Cinderella- Broadway January 1 2015 (Matinee) Cast: Ella: Keke Palmer Topher: Joe Carroll Marie: Judy Kaye Madame: Nene Leakes Gabrielle: Stephanie Gibson Charlotte: Laura Irion Jean-Michel: Todd Buonopane Lord Pinkleton: Phumzile Sojola Sebastian: Peter Bartlett Footman: Andy Mills Driver: Michael Callahan Lady of Ridicule: Jill Abramovitz

•Chitty Chitty Bang Bang- UK tour February 2010 Cast: Darren Bennett (Caractacus Potts), Katie Ray (Truly Scrumptious), John Griffiths (Grandpa Potts), Edward Peel (Baron Bomburst/Lord Scrumptious), Kim Ismay (Baroness Bomburst/Miss Philips), Dean Maynard (Child Catcher)

•Come From Away - Broadway March 10, 2017 ***NFT UNTIL JULY 15, 2017*** Petrina Bromley (Bonnie/Others),Geno Carr (Oz/Others), Jenn Colella(Beverly/Annette/Others), Joel Hatch (Claude/Others), Rodney Hicks (Bob/Others), Kendra Kassebaum(Janice/Others), Chad Kimball (Kevin T/Garth/Others), Lee MacDougall(Nick/Doug/Others), Caesar Samayoa (Kevin J/Ali/Others), Q. Smith (Hannah/Others), Astrid Van Wieren (Beulah/Others), Sharon Wheatley(Diane/Others)

•Company- Broadway 15 June 2011 Cast: Neil Patrick Harris, Stephen Colbert, Patti LuPone, Craig Bierko, Jon Cryer, Christina Hendricks, Katie Finneran, Aaron Lazar, Jill Paice, Martha, Plimpton, Anika Noni Rose, Jennifer Laura Thompson, Jim Walton, Chryssie Whitehead

•Crazy for You OBC? no idea what cast or date.

•Cry Baby OBC? no idea what cast or date

•Curious Woof Broadway? no idea what cast or date

•Cursed Child Audio only, original cast

•Dames at Sea - Broadway October 18, 2015 John Bolton (The Captain/Hennesey), Mara Davi (Joan), Danny Gardner (Lucky), Eloise Kropp (Ruby), Lesli Margherita (Mona Kent), Cary Tedder (Dick)

•Dear Evan Hansen (Broadway) − November 2016: Ben Platt (Evan), Laura Dreyfuss (Zoe), Will Roland (Jared), Kristolyn Lloyd (Alana), Mike Faist (Connor), Rachel Bay Jones (Heidi), Michael Park (Larry), Jennifer Laura Thompson (Cynthia).

•Disaster! The Musical- Broadway February 20, 2016 Adam Pascal (Chad), Roger Bart (Tony), Faith Prince (Shirley), Seth Rudetsky (Ted Scheider), Kerry Butler (Marianne), Kevin Chamberlin (Maury), Rachel York (Jackie), Jennifer Simard (Sister Mary), Baylee Litrell (Ben/Lisa), Max Crumm (Scott), Lacretta Nicole (Levora)

•Dreamgirls Broadway December 1981 Jennifer Holiday (Effie Melody White), Sheryl Lee Ralph (Deena Jones), Loretta Devine (Lorrell Robinson), Cleaving Derricks (James “Thunder” Early)

•Dreamgirls in Concert 2001 Audra McDonald, Heather Headly, Billy Porter

•Elf- Broadway 16 November 2011 Cast: Sebastian Arcelus, Amy Spanger, Beth Leavel, George Wendt, Mark Jacoby, Michael McCormick, Michael Mandell, Mattew Gumley, Valerie Wright

•Evita Original Cast with Patti LuPone besides that I have no idea what cast or date

•Evita - European Tour 1997 Harold Prince Version Susan Carr George (Evita), James Sbano (Che), Jeff Austin (Juan Peron), Scott Hayward (Magaldi), Zoe Abbott (Mistress)

•Evita- Broadway 15 August 2012 Cast: Jessica Lea Patty (u/s Eva), Ricky Martin, Michael Cerveris, Max von Essen, Rachel Potter

•Falsettoland - OOBC Stephen Bogardus, Chip Zien, Michael Rupert, Faith Prince, Heather McCrae

•Falsettos - Los Angeles 1993 OBC (Except for Jason who is played by Sivan Cotel.)

•Falsettos - Broadway October 28, 2016 Stephanie J. Block (Trina), Christian Borle (Marvin), Andrew Rannells (Whizzer), Anthony Rosenthal (Jason), Brandon Uranowitz (Mendel), Betsy Wolfe (Cordelia), Tracie Thoms (Charlotte)

•Falsettos (Broadway) − December 30, 2017: Christian Borle, Andrew Rannells, Stephanie J. Block, Brandon Uranowitz, Anthony Rosenthal, Tracie Thoms, Betsy Wolfe.

•Fiddler on the Roof - Broadway February 28th 2004 Cast : Alfred Molina (Tevye), Randy Graff (Golde), Nancy Opel, Stephen Lee Anderson, David Ayers, Laura Michelle  Kelly, Sally Murphy

•Fiddler on the Roof- Broadway 29 December 2015 Cast: Danny Burstein, Jessica Hecht, Alexandra Silber, Samantha Massell, Melanie Moore, Jenny Rose Baker, Hayley Feinstein, Alix Korey, Adam Kantor, Ben Rappaport, Nick Rehberger, Adam Dannheisser, Karl Kenzler, Michael C Bernardi, Adam Grupper, Jeffrey Schecter, George Psomas, Lori Wilner, Jessica Vosk, Mitch Greenberg, Aaron Young, Jennifer Zetlan

•Finding Neverland- Broadway July 22 2015 Cast: Kevin Kern as (u/s) J.M. Barrie, Laura Michelle Kelly, Anthony Warlow, Carolee Carmello, Teal Wicks, Christopher Paul Richards as Peter, Eli Toikash as Jack, Casey Butler as George, Alex Dreier as Michael

•First Date- Broadway, July 13 2013 Cast: Zachary Levi, Krysta Rodriguez, Sara Chase, Kristoffer Cusick, Blake Hammond, Kate Loprest, Bryce Ryness

•Follies- Broadway 6 November 2011 Cast: Bernadette Peters, Jan Maxwell, Danny Burstein, Ron Raines, Elaine Paige, Don Correla, Christian Delcroix, Rosalind Elias, Colleen Fitzpatrick, Danielle Jordan (u/s Young Sally), Michael Hayes, Leah Horowitz, Jayne Houdyshell, Florence Lacey, Mary Beth Peil

•Frozen at the Hyperion-California 28 May 2016

•Fun Home- Broadway March 29 2015 Cast: Michael Cerveris, Judy Kuhn, Beth Malone, Sydney Lucas, Emily Skeggs, Roberta Colindrez, Zell Steele Morrow, Joel Perez, Oscar Williams

•Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder- Broadway 3 May 2014 Cast: Jefferson Mays, Bryce Pinkham, Lisa OHare, Lauren Worsham, Jane Carr, Joanna Glushak, Eddie Korbich, Pamela Bob

•Gentlemen Perfer Blondes- New York City Encores 12 May 2012 Cast: Megan Hilty, Rachel York, Phillip Attmore, Steven Boyer, Brennan Brown, Stephen R. Buntrock, Jared Grimes, Simon Jones, Aaron Lazar, Deborah Rush, Sandra Shipley, Megan Sikora, Clarke Thorell

•Gigi- Broadway March 28 2015 Cast: Vanessa Hudgens, Victoria Clark, Corey Cott, Dee Hoty, Howard McGillin, Steffanie Leigh

•Godspell -Broadway Revival November 13th 2011 Cast: Hunter Parrish, Telly Leung, Lindsay Mendez, Wallace Smith, Uzo Aduba, Joaquina Kalukango

•Guys and Dolls 1991 with Nathan Lane and Faith Prince, other than that, I don’t know what cast or date

•Grease Live! 31 January 2016 Cast: Aaron Tveit, Julianne Hough, Vanessa Hudgens, Keke Palmer, Kether Donohue, Jordan Fisher, Carly Rae Jepsen, Didi Conn, Carlos PenaVega, Eve Plumb, Ana Gasteyer, Mario Lopez, Joe, Jonas, Jessie J, Sam Clark, Etc.

•Grey Gardens -Broadway December 6th 2006 Cast : Christine Ebersole, Mary Louise Wilson, John McMartin, Erin Davie, Matt Cavenaugh

•Groundhog Day - Broadway April 1, 2017 ***NFT UNTIL AUGUST 1, 2017*** Andy Karl (Phil Connors), Barrett Doss(Rita Hanson), Rebecca Faulkenberry (Nancy/Ensemble), John Sanders (Ned Ryerson/Ensemble), Andrew Call (Gus/Ensemble), Gerard Canonico (Fred/Ensemble), Josh Lamon (Buster/Ensemble), Raymond J. Lee (Ralph/Ensemble), Heather Ayers (Mrs. Lancaster/Ensemble)

•Gypsy- Broadway 1991 audio only for Act two Cast: Tyne Daly, Jonathan Hadary, Crista Moore, Robert Lambert, Tracy Venner

•Gypsy- Broadway 4 April 2003 Cast: Bernadette Peters, John Dossett, Tammy Blanchard

•Gypsy- Broadway, 25 March 2008 Cast: Patti Lupone, Laura Benanti, Boyd Gaines, Leigh Ann Larkin

•Gypsy - Bette Midler Movie 1993

•Hair- Broadway 15 March 2009 Cast: Gavin Creel, Will Swenson, Caissie Levy, Sasha Allen, Allison Case, Andrew Kober, Megan Lawrence, Darius Nichols, Bryce Ryness, Kacie Sheik

•Hairspray- Broadway 25 November 2006 Cast: Shannon Durig, Blake Hammond, Diana DeGarmo, Stephen DeRosa, Darlene Love, Tevin Campbell, Jonathan Dokuchitz, Lisa Jolley, Isabel Keating, Tara Macri, Kevin Meaney, Naturi Naughton, Aaron Tveit

•Hairspray- London October 16 2007 Cast: Michael Ball (Edna Turnblad), Mel Smith (Wilbur Turnblad), Leanne Jones (Tracy Turnblad), Ben James-Ellis (Link Larkin), Tracie Bennett (Velma von Tussle), Elinor Collett (Penny Pingleton), Johnnie Fiori(Motormouth Maybelle), Adrian Hansel (Seaweed), Rachael Wooding (Amber von Tussle)

•Hairspray- National Tour December 13, 2005 Keala Settle (Tracy Turnblad), Dale Calandra (u/s Edna Turnblad), Charlotte Crossley (Motormouth Maybelle), Susan Henley (Velma Von Tussle), Aaron Tveit (Link Larkin), Melissa Larsen (u/s Penny Pingleton), Alan Mingo Jr. (Seaweed), Bryan Crawford (u/s Corny Collins), Jane Blass (Prudy Pingleton/The Teacher/The Matron),Jim J. Bullock (Wilbur Turnblad)

•Hamilton- Broadway December 29 2015 Cast: Hamilton: Lin-Manuel Miranda, Eliza Hamilton: Phillipa Soo, Aaron Burr: Leslie Odom, Jr, Angelica Schuyler: Renee Elise Goldsberry, George Washington: Christopher Jackson, Marquis de Lafayette/Thomas Jefferson: Daveed Diggs, Hercules Mulligan/James Madison: Okieriete Onaodowan, John Laurens/Philip Hamilton: Anthony Ramos, Peggy Schuyler/Maria Reynolds: Jasmine Cephas Jones, King George: Jonathan Groff, Philip Schuyler/James Reynolds/Doctor: Sydney James Harcourt, Samuel Seabury: Daniel J Watts, Charles Lee: Neil Haskell, George Eacker: Ephraim Sykes. Ensemble: Gerald Avery, Carleigh Bettiol, Neil Haskell, Sasha Hutchings, Emmy Raver-Lampman, Austin Smith, Betsy Struxness, Ephraim Sykes, Kamille Upshaw, Daniel J Watts

•Hamilton (Broadway) − June 19, 2016: Javier Muñoz (u/s Alexander Hamilton), Nicholas Christopher (u/s George Washington), Andrew Chappelle (u/s Laurens/Philip), Alysha Deslorieux (s/b Peggy/Maria), the rest is the Original Broadway Cast.

•Hello Dolly- US tour, Melbourne 17-19 December 1977 pro shot Cast: Carol Channing (Dolly), Jay Garner (Horace), Lee Roy Reams (Cornelius), Jeanne Lehman (Irene), Scott Bridges (Barnaby), Monica Lee Gradischek (Minnie), Monica M. Wemitt (Ernestina), James Darrah (Ambrose), Christine DeVito (Ermengarde), Judi Mann (Mrs. Rose), Herman Petras (Rudolph), Michael Shames (Stanley), Roger Preston Smith (Judge)

•Hello Dolly- UK tour 2008 pro shot Cast: Anita Dobson (Dolly Levy), Carol Ball (Ernestina), Samuel Board (Ambrose Kemper), David McAlister (Horace Vandergelder), Sophir Wilkins (Ermengarde), Darren Day (Cornelius Hackl), Hamilton Sargent (Barnaby Tucker), Amanda Salmon (Minnie Fay), Louise English (Irene Molloy), Christopher Marlowe (Rudolph/Judge)

•Hello Dolly - Broadway March 30, 2017 ***NFT AUGUST 1st 2017***Bette Midler (Dolly Gallagher Levi), David Hyde Pierce (Horace Vandergelder), Kate Baldwin (Irene Malloy), Christian Dante White (u/s Cornelius Hackl), Taylor Trensch (Barnaby Tucker), Beanie Feldstein (Minnie Faye), Will Burton (Ambrose Kemper), Melanie Moore (Ermengarde), Jennifer Simard (Ernestina)

•Holiday Inn- Broadway January 14, 2017 pro shot Bryce Pinkham (Jim), Corbin Bleu (Ted), Lora Lee Gayer (Linda), Megan Lawrence (Louise), Megan Sikora (Lila Dixon), Lee Wilkof, Malik Akil, Will Burton, Darien Crago, Morgan Gao, Matt Meigs, Shina Ann Morris, Drew Redington, Catherine Ricafort, Amanda Rose, Jonalyn Saxer, Samantha Sturm, Amy Van Norstrand, Travis Ward-Osborne, Paige Williams, Victor Wisehart, Kevin Worley, Borris York

•Honeymoon in Vegas - Broadway December 5, 2014 Rob McClure (Jack Singer), Brynn O'Malley (Betsy), Tony Danza (Tommy Korman), David Josefsberg (Buddy Rocky/Roy Bacon), Nancy Opel (Bea Singer), Matthew Saldivar (Johnny Sandwich)

•How to succeed in bussiness without really trying- Broadway 1995 Cast: Matthew Broderick (J. Pierrepont Finch), Megan Mullally (Rosemary Pilkington), Ronn Carroll (JB Biggley), Jeff Blumenkrantz (Bud Frump), Jonathan Freeman (Bert Bratt), Victoria Clark (Smitty), Luba Mason (Hedy La Rue), Lillias White (Miss Jones)

•How to succeed in business without really trying- Broadway, 28 February 2011 Cast: Daniel Radcliffe (J. Pierrepont Finch), John Larroquette (J.B. Biggley), Rose Hemingway (Rosemary Pilkington), Tammy Blanchard (Hedy LaRue), Christopher J. Hanke (Bud Frump), Rob Bartlett (Mr. Timble), Mary Faber (Smitty), Ellen Harvey (Miss Jones), Michael Park (Bert Bratt), Cameron Adams (Kathy), Cleve Asbury (Mr. Ovington), Tanya Birl (Nancy), Kevin Cobert (Mr. Johnson), Paige Faure (Miss Grabowski), David Hull (Mr. Toynbee), Justin Keyes (Mr. Davis), Marty Lawson (Mr. Peterson), Barrett Martin (Mr. Andrews), Nick Mayo (Mr. Gatch), Sarah O'Gleby, Stephanie Rothenberg (Meredith), Megan Sikora (Miss Krumholz), Joey Sorge (Mr. Tackaberry), Ryan Watkinson (Mr. Matthews), Charlie Williams (Mr. Jenkins), Samantha Zack (Lily), Anderson Cooper (Voice of the Narrator)

•If/Then- Broadway March 8 2014 Cast: Idina Menzel, LaChanze, Anthony Rapp, James Snyder, Jerry Dixon, Jenn Colella, Jason Tam, Tamika Lawrence

•Into the Woods- Broadway, May 1989 Cast: Bernadette Peters (The Witch), Joanna Gleason (The Baker’s Wife), Chip Zien (The Baker), Tom Aldredge (Narrator/Mysterious Old Man), Kim Crosby (Cinderella), Danielle Ferland (Little Red Riding Hood), Robert Westenberg (Wolf/Cinderella’s Prince), Ben Wright (Jack), Barbara Bryne (Jack’s Mother), Merle Louise (Grandmother/Cinderella’s Mother/Giant), Chuck Wagner (Rapunzel’s Prince), Pamela Winslow (Rapunzel), Philip Hoffman (Steward), Lauren Mitchell (Lucinda), Kay McClelland (Florinda)

•Into the Woods- Central Park 28 July 2012 Cast: Donna Murphy, Amy Adams, Chip Zien, Denis O'Hare, Gideon Glick, Jessie Mueller, Sarah Stiles, Ellen Harvey, Ivan Hernandez, Josh Lamon, Laura Shoop, Tess Soltau, Kristine Zbornik, Jack Broderick, Eric Williams as (u/s) Rapunzel’s Prince, Glenn Close

•In Transit - Broadway November 13, 2016 Justin Guarini (Trent), Erin Mackey(Ali), Telly Leung (Steven), James Snyder (Nate), David Abeles (Dave), Moya Angela (Momma/Ms. Williams/Booth Lady), Chesney Snow(Boxman), Margo Seibert (Jane), Mariand Torres (Nina)

•It Shoulda Been You- Broadway July 21 2015 Cast: Sierra Boggess (Rebecca Steinberg), Tyne Daly (Judy Steinberg), Harriet Harris (Georgette Howard), Lisa Howard (Jenny Steinberg), Aaron C. Finley (u/s Brian Howard), Montego Glover (Annie Shepherd), Josh Grisetti (Marty Kaufman), Adam Heller (Walt/Uncle Morty), Edward Hibbert (Albert), Michael X. Martin (George Howard), Anne L. Nathan (Aunt Sheila/Mimsy), Nick Spangler (Gred Madison), Chip Zien (Murray Steinberg)

•Jekyll and Hyde- Broadway 1997 Cast: Robert Cuccioli, Christianne Noll, Linda Eder / Emily Skinner (u/s), Barrie Ingham

•Jersey Boys- Broadway 19 November 2005 Cast: Christian Hoff, Daniel Reichard, J. Robert Spencer, John Lloyd Young, Peter Gregus, Mark Lotito, Tituss Burgess, Heather Ferguson, Steve Gouveia, Donnie Kehr, John Leone, Michael Longoria

•Jesus Christ Superstar - Farewell Tour - Milwaukee Theatre - Ted Neeley (Jesus of Nazareth), Corey Glover (Judas Iscariot), Christina Rea-Briskin (Mary Magdalene), Larry Alan Coke (Caiphas), Jeremy Pasha (Annas), Craig Sculli (Pointius Pilate), Aaron Fuska (King Herod), Chris Gleim (Peter), Jason D Bush (Simon), Darrel R Whitney (First Priest), Tony Castellanos (Second Priest), Camilo Castro (Third Priest), Lorelei Prince (Maid by the Fire), Soul Singers/Disciples: Bianca Atalaya, Rasmiyyah Feliciano, Margaret M Spirito, Disciple Girls: Nancy Emerson, Tess Ferrell, Apostles: Nick Algier, Gabe Belyeu, Jason R Cook, Michael Fasano, Thomas C Lash, Matthew G Myers, Fred J Ross, Troy Valjean Rucker, Jonathan Walsh 

•Jesus Christ Superstar- La Jolla, 4 December 2011 Cast: Paul Nolan, Jeremy Kushnier (u/s Judas), Chilina Kennedy, Sandy Winsby (u/s Pilate), Bruce Dow, Marcus Nance, Lee Siegel, Aaron Walpole, Mike Nadajewski

•Joseph and the amazing technicolor dreamcoat- London, 17 October 2007 Cast: Lee Mead, Fiona Reyes as (alt) Narrator, Dean Collinson, Stephen Tate, John Alastair, Neal Wright

•Kinky Boots- Broadway, March 3 2013 Cast: Stark Sands, Billy Porter, Annaleigh Ashford, Celina Carvajal, Daniel Stewart Sherman, Marcus Neville.

•Kinky Boots- US tour, Los Angeles 15 November 2014 Cast: Steven Booth, Kyle Taylor Parker, Lindsay Nicole Chambers, Joe Coots, Grace Stockdale, Craig Waletzko, Amelia Cormack, Mike Longo, Ross Lekit es, Bonnie Milligan, David McDonald, Horace V. Rogers, Anne Tolpegin, Anthony Picarello, Andrew Theo Johnson

•Kinky Boots - National Tour April 17, 2016 Evening Adam Kaplan (Charlie Price), J Harrison Ghee (Lola/Simon), Tiffany Engen (Lauren), Aaron Walpole (Don), Charissa Hogeland (Nicola), Jim J Bullock (George), Shawna M Hamic, Josh Tolle (Harry), Zach Adkins, Patty Lohr (Pat), Tom Souhrada (Mr. Price), Horace V Rogers, Annie Edgerton (Milan Stage Manager), Aidan Passaro(Young Charlie), Jomil Elijah Robinson

•Kiss Me Kate- London 2002 pro shot Cast: Brent Barrett, Rachel York, Nancy Anderson, Michael Berresse, Teddy Kemper, Jack Chissick

•La Cage Aux Folles- Broadway April 7 2010 Cast: Kelsey Grammer, Douglas Hodge, Fred Applegate, Veanne Cox, Chris Hoch, Elena Shaddow, A.J. Shively, Nick Adams, Christine Andreas, Robin De Jesus

•Legally Blonde- San Fransisco February 24 2007 Cast: Laura Bell Bundy (Elle), Christian Borle (Emmett), Orfeh (Paulette), Richard H. Blake (Warner), Kate Shindle (Vivienne), Michael Rupert (Professor Callahan), Nikki Snelson, (Brooke/Shandi), Leslie Kritzer (Serena), Annaleigh Ashford (Margot), DeQuina Moore (Pilar), Natalie Joy Johnson (Enid/Veronica)

•Les Miserables- Broadway March 8 2014 Cast: Ramin Karimloo, Will Swenson, Caissie Levy, Nikki M. James, Cliff Saunders, Keala Settle, Samantha Hill, Andy Mientus, Kyle Scatliffe, Angeli Negron

•Little Shop of Horrors- Broadway September 21, 2003 Hunter Foster (Seymour), Kerry Butler (Audrey), Douglas Sills (Orin), Rob Bartlett (Mr. Mushnik), DeQuina Moore (Chiffon), Carla J. Hargrove, Trisha Jeffrey

•Little Shop of Horrors- UK tour, Liverpool, May 4 2009 Cast: Clare Buckfield (Audrey), Damian Humbley (Seymour), Alex Ferns (Orin), Sylvester McCoy (Mushnik), Clive Rowe (Voice of Audrey II), Nadia Di Mambro (Crystal), Lara Martin (Chiffon), Donna Hines (Ronette)

•Little Shop of Horrors- New York City Center Encores 2 July 2015 Cast: Ellen Greene, Jake Gyllenhaal, Taran Killam, Eddie Cooper, Joe Grifasi, Tracy Nicole Chapman, Marva Hicks, Ramona Keller

•Little Women - OBC (Sutton Foster, Megan McGinnis)

•Loves Never Dies - London April 29 2010 Cast : Ramin Karimloo (Phantom), Sierra Boggess (Christine), Joseph Millson (Raoul), Richard Linnell (Gustave)

•Mamma Mia- London 14 September 2002 Cast: Laura Michelle Kelly (Sophie), Louise Plowright (Donna), Simon Slater (Sam)

•Mary Poppins- US tour February 15 2013 Cast: Con O'Shea-Creal (Bert), Madeline Trumble (Mary Poppins), Madison Ann Mullahey (Jane Banks), Eli Tokash (Michael Banks), Chris K. Hoch (George Banks), Kerry Conte (Winifred Banks)

•Memphis pro shot, original Cast,

•Miss Saigon (Broadway) - January 7 2001 Kim- Lea Salonga The Engineer- Louyong Wang Chris- Will Chase John- Charles Wallace Ellen- Ruthie Hensall Thuy - Michael K Lee Gigi - Charlene Carabeo

•My Fair Lady- UK tour, Palace Theatre Manchester, 12th October 2005 pro shot Cast: Amy Nuttall (Eliza), Christopher Cazenove (Professor Higgins), Russ Abbot, Honor Blackman, Stephen Moore, Stephen Carlile, Romy Baskerville

•Natasha, Pierre and The Great Comet of 1812 (Broadway) − October 29, 2016: Josh Groban, Denee Benton, Brittain Ashford, Nicholas Belton, Lucas Steele, Gelsey Bell, Nick Choksi, Amber Gray. Odd angle for such a complex scene and medium video quality but gets the job done. Denée is excellent as Natasha.

•Nine- Broadway 30 March 2003 Cast: Antonio Banderas, Laura Benanti, Jane Krakowski, Mary Stuart Masterson, Chita Rivera

•Newsies Live! Los Angeles, CA September 11, 2016 Jeremy Jordan, Kara Lindsay, Ben Fankhauser, Andrew Keenan-Bolger, Steve Blanchard, Ethan Steiner, Aisha De Haas

•Next to Normal (Broadway) − July 18, 2010: Alice Ripley (Diana), Brian D’Arcy James (Dan), Kyle Dean Massey (Gabe), Jennifer Damiano (Natalie), Adam Chanler-Berat (Henry), Louis Hobson (Dr. Fine / Dr. Madden). Alice, Brian and Jennifer’s last show. VOB.

•Nice Work if You Can Get It Kelli O'Hara other than that, I don’t know what cast or date

•Oklahoma (1999 with Hugh

•Oliver- London September 2010 Cast: Russ Abbot (Fagin), Kerry Ellis (Nancy), Steven Hartley (Sikes), Edward Cooke (Oliver), Ben Wilson (Dodger)

•On A Clear Day You Can See Forever- Broadway 12 November 2011 Cast: Harry Connick Jr., David Turner, Jessie Mueller, Kerry O'Malley, Drew Gehling, Sarah Stiles, Paul O'Brien, Heather Ayers, Lori Wilner

•On the 20th Century- Broadway February 21 2015 Cast: Kristin Chenoweth, Peter Gallagher, Andy Karl, Mark Linn-Baker, Michael McGrath, Mary Louise Wilson

•On The Town- Broadway October 1 2014 Cast: Tony Yazbeck, Jay Armstrong Johnson, Clyde Alves, Megan Fairchild, Alysha Umphress, Elizabeth Stanley, Jackie Hoffman, Michael Rupert, Allison Guinn

•On Your Feet! (Broadway Preview) − October 17, 2015: Ana Villafane, Josh Segarra, Andrea Burns, Alma Cuervo, Eliseo Roman, Genny Lis Padilla, Alexandria Suarez, Eduardo Hernandez.

•Pacific Overtures- Broadway 9 June 1976 (TV Broadcast) Cast: Mako, Soon-Tek Oh, Yuki Shimoda, Sab Shimono, Isao Sato, Alvin Ing, Ernest Harada, James Dybas

•Pal Joey - Broadway Revival 2008 Matthew Risch, Stockard Channing. Martha Plimpton, Jenny Fellner, Robert Clohessy. 

•Paramour - Broadway May 11, 2016 Jeremy Kushnier (AJ Golden), Ruby Lewis (Indigo James), Ryan Vona (Joey Green), Bret Shuford (Robbie), Sarah Meahl (Gina)

•Peter Pan - Proshot Cathy Rigby Tour June 2012

•Peter and the Starcatcher- Broadway 4 November 2012 Cast: Christian Borle, Celia Keenan-Bolger, Matthew Saldivar, Teddy Bergman, Arnie Burton, Matt D'Amico, Kevin Del Aguila, Carson Elrod, Greg Hildreth, Rick Holmes, Isaiah Johnson, Eric Petersen, Betsy Hogg, Orville Mendoza, Jason Ralph, John Sanders

•The Phantom of the Opera- Broadway April 1988 Cast: Michael Crawford, Sarah Brightman, Steve Barton

•The Phantom of the Opera Norm Lewis and Sierra Bogess other than this, I don’t know what cast or date

•Pippin- Broadway July 13 2013 Cast: Matthew James Thomas, Patina Miller, Terrence Mann, Charlotte d'Amoise, Rachel Bay Jones, Andrea Martin

•Promises, Promises- Broadway 1 April 2012 Cast: Sean Hayes (Chuck Baxter), Kristin Chenoweth (Fran Kubelik), Tony Goldwyn (J.D. Sheldrake), Katie Finneran (Marge MacDougall), Dick Latessa (Dr. Dreyfuss), Brooks Ashmannskas (Mr. Dobitch)

•RENT (OBC - Opening Night) - April 29, 1996 - Anthony Rapp (Mark Cohen), Adam Pascal (Roger Davis), Daphne Rubin-Vega (Mimi Marquez), Jesse L. Martin (Tom Collins), Wilson Jermaine Heredia (Angel Dumott Schunard), Idina Menzel (Maureen Johnson), Fredi Walker (Joanne Jefferson), Taye Diggs (Benjamin Coffin III)

Rent (Broadway) − September 7, 2008: Adam Kantor, Will Chase, Michael McElroy, Rodney Hicks, Tracie Thoms, Justin Johnston, Renée Elise Goldsberry, Eden Espinosa. Tracked. Closing performance. Pro-shot.

•Rocky: The Musical (Broadway) − March 29, 2014: Andy Karl (Rocky Balboa), Margo Seibert (Adrian Pennino), Terence Archie (Apollo Creed), Dakin Matthews (Mickey Goldmill), Danny Mastrogiorgio (Paulie Pennino), Jennifer Mudge (Gloria)

•Rocky Horror - Picadilly Theatre 1991 Anthony Head (Frank N Furter), Craig Ferguson (Brad), Zailie Burrow (Janet), Tim Whitnall (Riff Raff), The Narrator (Peter Bayliss), Kate O'sullivan (Magenta), Ivan Kaye (Eddie/Scott), Vicky Likorish (Columbia), Adam Cairie (Rocky) Phantoms: Ian good, Mark S Turnbull, Steve Thiebaut, Julia Hampson and Penny (surname unknown)

•Rocky Horror Broadway September 9, 2001 Terrence Mann (Frank N. Furter), Jarrod Emmick (Brad),  Kristen Lee Kelly (u/s Janet), Daphne Rubin-Vega (Magenta), Dick Cavett (Narrator), Aiko Nakasone (u/s), Mark Price, Sebastian LaCause, James Stovall, Jonathan Sharp, Rosa Curry, Kevin Cahoon, Asa Somers, John Jeffrey Martin, Denise Summerford

•Rocky Horror 2015 Professionally filmed

•Rocky Horror Picture Show 2016 Movie - Laverne Cox, Victoria Justice (Janet), Ryan McCartan (Brad)

•School of Rock- Broadway November 2015 Cast: Alex Brightman (Dewey), Sierra Boggess (Rosalie), Spencer Moses (Ned), Mamie Parris (Patty), Isabella Russo (Summer), Dante Melucci (Freddy), Brandon Niederauer (Zack), Jared Parker (Lawrence), Evie Dolan (Katie), Bobbi MacKenzie (Tomika)

•Seussical The Musical - February 9th 2001 Cast: Rosie O'Donnell, Kevin Chamberlin

•She Loves Me- Broadway 30 June 2016 pro shot Cast: Laura Benanti (Amalia), Zachary Levi (Georg), Jane Krakowski (Ilona), Gavin Creel (Kodaly), Byron Jennings (Maraczek), Tom McGowan (Sipos), Peter Bartlett (Head Waiter), Nicholas Barasch (Arpad)

•Show Boat- Wichita August 2001 Pro shot Cast: Frank Anderson, Darcy Fulliam, Kelli O'Hara, Gary Mauer, Terry Burrell.

•Shuffle Along - Broadway April 12, 2016 Audra McDonald (Lottie Gee), Billy Porter (Aubrey Lyles), Brian Stokes Mitchell (F.E. Miller), Joshua Henry (Noble Sissle), Adrienne Warren (Gertrude Saunders/Florence Mills), Brooks Ashmanskas (Al/Izzy/Mr. Broadway/Carlo), Amber Iman (Eva/Mattie Wilkes/Madame-Madame/Downtown Dilettante)

•Side Show- Broadway January 4 2015 Cast: Violet Hilton: Erin Davie Daisy Hilton: Emily Padgett Terry Connor: Ryan Silverman Buddy Foster: Matthew Hydzik Jake: David St Louis Sir: Robert Joy 3-Legged Man, Suitor: Brandon Bieber Geek, Doctor: matthew Patrick Davis Fortune Teller: Charity Angel Dawson

•Sister act- Broadway April 2 2011 Cast: Patina Miller, Victoria Clark, Fred Applegate, Sarah Bolt, John Treacy, Egan, Demond Green, Chester Gregory, Marla Mindelle, Kingsley Leggs

•Something Rotten Broadway March 23, 2015 Preview Brian d'Archy James (Nick Bottom), John Cariani (Nigel Bottom), Heidi Blickenstaff (Bea), Christian Borle (Shakespeare), Brad Oscar (Nostradamus), Kate Reinders (Portia),Brooks Ashmanskas (Brother Jeremiah), Peter Bartlett (Lord Clapham), Gerry Cichi (Shylock), Michael James Scott (Minstrel)

•South Pacific- London 1952 pro shot Cast: Mary Martin and Wilbur Evans

•Spring Awakening- Broadway 18 October 2015 Cast: Austin Mckenzie (Melchior), Daniel N. Durant (Moritz), Alex Boniello (Voice Of Moritz), Sandra Mae Frank (Wendla), Katie Boeck (Voice Of Wendla), Krysta Rodriguez (Ilse), Treshelle Edmond (Martha), Kathryn Gallagher (Voice Of Martha), Amelia Hensley (Thea), Lauren M. Luiz (Heidi/Voice Of Thea), Ali Stroker (Anna), Miles Barbee (Otto), Sean Grandillo (Voice Of Otto), Alex Wyse (Georg), Andy Mientus (Hanschen), Joshua Castille (Ernst), Daniel David Stewart (Voice Of Ernst), Camryn Manheim & Marlee Matlin (Adult Women), Patrick Page & Russell Harvard (Adult Men)

•Starlight Express Las Vegas 1997 I don’t know what cast or date

•Sunday in the Park with George Bernadette Peters with Spanish subtitles

•Sunset Boulevard- Los Angeles 1994 Glenn Close (Norma Desmond), Alan Campbell (Joe Gillis), George Hearn (Max von Mayerling)

•Sunset Boulevard- Broadway July 14, 1995 Betty Buckley (Norma Desmond), Alan Campbell (Joe Gillis), Alice Ripley(Betty Schaefer), Steven Stein-Grainger (u/s Max Von Mayerling)

•Sunset Boulevard- Broadway February 2, 2017 Glenn Close (Norma Desmond), Michael Xavier (Joe Gillis), Siobhan Dillon (Betty Schaeffer), Fred Johanson (Max von Mayerling), Preston Truman Boyd (Artie Green), Paul Schoeffler (Cecil B.DeMille), Andy Taylor (Sheldrake), Jim Walton (Manfred)

•Sweeney Todd- Broadway January 1980 Cast: Len Cariou, Angela Lansbury, Victor Garber, Ken Jennings, Betsy Joslyn, Cris Groenendaal

•Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street – In Concert 2001. Pro-Shot. George Hearn, Patti LuPone, Neil Patrick Harris, Timothy Nolen, Davis Gaines, Lisa Vroman, Victoria Clark , John Aler and Stanford Olsen.

•Sweeney Todd- Broadway 2 April 2006 Cast: Patti LuPone, Michael Cerveris, Mark Jacoby, Donna Lynne Champlin, Manoel Felciano, Benjamin Magnuson, Lauren Molina, Alexander Gemingnani, Diana Dimarzio

•Sweeney Todd- London 2011 Cast: Michael Ball, Imelda Staunton, John Bowe, Peter Polycarpou, Rob Bur

•Sweeney Todd- New York September 26 2014 pro-shot Cast: Bryn Terfel, Emma Thompson, Jeff Blumenkrantz, Christian Borle, Kyle Brenn, Jay Armstrong Johnson, Erin Mackey, Philip Quast

•Sweet Charity - Tour April 29th 2007 Cast : East Lansing, MI Molly Ringwald, Bridget Berger, Francesca Harper, Guy Adkins, Aaron Ramey, Richard Ruiz

•Tarzan- Broadway, 30 March 2006 Cast: Josh Strickland, Jenn Gambatese, Merle Danridge, Shuler Hensley

•The Addams Family- Broadway March 21 2011 Cast: Nathan Lane, Bebe Neuwirth, Terrence Mann, Carolee Carmello, Kevin Chamberlin, Jackie Hoffman, Zachary James, Wesley Taylor, Krysta Rodriguez, Adam Riegler

•The Amazing Tour Is Not On Fire - Pro shot - Cast: Dan , Phil , Others

•The Apple Tree (Kristen Chenwoth)

•The Color Purple (Broadway) − November 5, 2016: Cynthia Erivo (Celie), Heather Headley (Shug Avery), Danielle Brooks (Sofia), Joaquina Kalukungo (Nettie), Isaiah Johnson (Mister), Kyle Scatliffe (Harpo).

•The Drowsy Chaperone OBC I don’t know what cast or date but with Sutton Foster

•The Great American Trailer Park the Musical - Off-Broadway Dodger Stages December 4, 2005 Cast : Linda Hart (Betty), Orfeh (Pepper), Shuler Hensley (Norbert), Leslie Kritzer (Pickles), Kaitlin Hopkins (Jeanne), Wayne Wilcox (Duke).

•The King and I- Broadway 28 March 2015 Cast: Kelli O'Hara, Ken Watanabe, Edward Baker-Duly, Jon Viktor Corpuz, Murphy Guyer, Jake Lucas, Ruthie Ann Miles, Paul Nakauchi, Marc Oka, Ashley Park, Conrad Ricamora, Adriana Braganza, Amaya Braganza, LaMae Caparas, Hsin-Ping Chang, Andrew Cheng, Lynn Masako Cheng, Olivia Chun, Ali Ewoldt, Ethan Halford Holder, Cole Horibe, MaryAnn Hu, James Ignacio, Misa Iwama, Christie Kim, Kelvin Moon Loh, Sumie Maeda, Paul HeeSang Miller, Rommel Pierre O'Choa, Kristen Faith Oei, Autumn Ogawa, Diane Phelan, William Poon, Brian Rivera, Bennyroyce Royon, Lainie Sakakura, Ann Sanders, Ian Saraceni, Atsuhisa Shinomiya, Michiko Takemasa, Kei Tsuruharatani, Christopher Vo, Rocco Wu, XiaoChuan Xie.

•The Little Mermaid Hollywood Bowl with Darren Criss, Sara Barilles & Rebel Wilson

•The Music Man - 2003 Matthew Broderick (Professor Harold Hill), Kristin Chenoweth (Marian Paroo), Debra Monk (Mrs. Paroo), Cameron Monaghan (Winthrop Paroo), Clyde Alves (Tommy Djilas), Cameron Adams (Zaneeta Shinn), Megan Moniz (Amaryllis), Linda Kash (Alma), Victor Garber (Mayor Shinn), Molly Shannon (Mrs. Eulalie Mackecknie Shinn), David Aaron Baker (Marcellus Washburn), Patrick McKenna (Charlie Cowell)

•The Producers- Broadway 4 November 2001 Cast: Nathan Lane, Matthew Broderick, Roger Bart, Gary Beach, Brad Oscar, Cady Huffman

•The Sound of Music - Broadway Revival 2/20/98 Rebecca Luker, Michael Siberry, Patti Cohenour, Jan Maxwell, Fred Applegate, Patricia Conolly, Sara Zelle, Dashiell Eaves, Andrea Bowen, Ashley Rose Orr, Gina Ferrall, Ann Brown

•The Sound of Music- UK tour November 2011 Cast: Kirsty Malpass (Alt. Maria), Margaret Preece (Mother Abbess), Michael Praed (Captain von Trapp), Jacinta Mulcahy (Baroness Elsa), Martin Callaghan (Uncle Max), Claire Fishenden (Liesl), Jeremy Taylor (Rolf)

•Sound of Music- TV Broadcast 2013 Aired 5 December 2013 Cast: Carrie Underwood, Stephen Moyer, Audra McDonald, Laura Benanti, Christian Borle, Ariane Rinehart, Michael Campayno

•The Sound of Music- National Tour Cincinnati, Ohio October 4, 2016 Kerstin Anderson (Maria Rainer), Ben Davis (Captain Georg von Trapp), Melody Betts (Mother Abbess), Teri Hansen (Elsa Schrader), Merwin Foard (Max Detweiler), Paige Silvester (Leisl), Roy Gantz (Friedrich), Ashley Brooke (Louisa), Austin Levine (Kurt), Iris Davies (Brigitta), Kyla Davies (Marta), Anika Lore Hatch (Gretl), Darren Matthias (Franz), Donna Garner (Frau Schmidt), Austin Colby (Rolf Gruber), Carey Rebecca Brown (Sister Berthe), Julia Osborne (Sister Margaretta), Anna Mintzer (Sister Sophia), Robert Mammana (Herr Zeller), Christopher Carl (Admiral von Schreiber)

•The Sound of Music London 2006 I don’t know what cast or date

•The SpongeBob Musical (Chicago) − June 7, 2016: Ethan Slater (SpongeBob SquarePants), Danny Skinner (Patrick Star), Lilli Cooper (Sandi Cheeks), Gavin Lee (Squidward Tentacles), Nick Blaemire (Plankton), Carlos Lopez (Mr. Krabs), Gaelen Gilliland (Mayor), Emmy Raver-Lampman (Pearl Krabs).

•The Who’s Tommy OBC I don’t know what cast or date

•Titanic - Australia 2006 PROSHOT Hayden Tee, Brendan Higgins, Nick Tate, Tony Farrell, Todd Goddard, Tony Cogin, David Pearson, Matthew Willis, Alexander Lewis, James Shaw, Cameron Mannix, David Goddard, Keegan Joyce, Robert Gard, Joan Carden

•Title of Show- Broadway July 6 2008 Cast: Jeff Bowen, Hunter Bell, Heidi Blickenstaff, Susan Blackwell

•Tuck Everlasting- Broadway April 4, 2016 Andrew Keenan-Bolger (Jesse Tuck), Carolee Carmell (Mae Tuck), Michael Park (Angus Tuck), Terrence Mann (Man in the Yellow Suit), Fred Applegate (Constable Joe), Michael Wartella (Hugo), Valerie Wright (Mother), Pippa Pearthree (Nana), Sarah Charles Lewis (Winnie Foster)

•Urinetown- Broadway 20 October 2001 Cast: John Cullum (Caldwell B. Cladwell), Jennifer Laura Thompson (Hope Cladwell), David Beach (Mr. McQueen), Nancy Opel (Penelope Pennywise), Hunter Foster (Bobby Strong), Rachel Coloff (Soupy Sue/Cladwell’s Secretary)

•Waitress (A.R.T) − September 2, 2015: Jessie Mueller, Keala Settle, Jeanna De Waal, Drew Gehling, Joe Tippett, Dakin Matthews, Eric Anderson, Jeremy Morse, Giana Ribeiro.

•Waitress (Broadway) − June 14, 2016: Jessie Mueller (Jenna), Keala Settle (Becky), Kimiko Glenn (Dawn), Drew Gehling (Dr Pomatter), Nick Cordero (Earl), Dakin Matthews (Joe), Eric Anderson (Cal), Christopher Fitzgerald (Ogie)

•Waitress - April 4, 2017 ***NFT UNTIL AUGUST 1st*** Sara Bareilles, Charity Angel Dawson, Molly Jobe as (u/s) Dawn, Chris Diamantopoulos, Will Swenson, Dakin Matthews, Eric Anderson, Christopher Fitzgerald.

•War Paint - Chicago June 29, 2016 Patti LuPone (Helena Rubinstein), Christine Ebersole (Elizabeth Arden), John Dossett (Tommy Lewis), Douglas Sills (Harrry Fleming), Joanna Glushak, Chris Hoch, Barbara Marineau

•West Side Story- Broadway February 23 2009 Cast: Matt Cavenaugh, Josefina Scaglione, Karen Olivo, Cody Green, Geroge Akram, Curtis Holbrook, Joey Haro

•What’s Inside (Songs from Waitress):Concert by Sara Bareilles, 2015.

•Wicked- Broadway, 12 October 2003 Cast: Idina Menzel (Elphaba), Kristin Chenoweth (Glinda), Nobert Leo Butz (Fiyero)

•Wicked - July 18th 2004 - Cast:  Idina Menzel (Elphaba), Kristin Chenoweth (Glinda), Norbert Leo Butz (Fiyero), Sean McCourt (Wizard), Michelle Federer (Nessarose), Carole Shelley (Madame Morrible)

•Wicked- London 18 October 2007 Cast: Kerry Ellis, Dianne Pilkington, Oliver Tompsett, Nigel Planer, Susie Blake, Katie Rowley Jones, James Gillan, Andy Mac

•Wicked March ?? 2009 - Cast: Nicole Parker (Elphaba), Alli Mauzey (Glinda), Aaron Tveit (Fiyero),Jayne Houdyshell (Madame Morrible), Anthony Galde (Wizard u/s), Cristy Candler (Nessarose), Alex Brightman (Boq), Timothy Britten Parker (Dr. Dillamond)

•Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf -Chicago February 12th, 2011 Tracy Letts, Amy Morton, Carrie Coon, Madison Dirks

•You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown - Broadway 1999 Anthony Rapp (Charlie Brown), Ilana Levine (Lucy van Pelt), B. D. Wong(Linus van Pelt), Stanley Wayne Mathis (Schroeder), Kristin Chenoweth (Sally Brown), Roger Bart (Snoopy)

Not on the list but I have them: - War Paint Broadway -!Follies NTL - Matilda final performance - Gypsy - audio with Ethel Merman - The Prom off Broadway - Lion King OBC

[createdofstardustarchive]

.｡.:*☆   out.   muses  +  associated trigger warnings

hannah baker  ----  suicide tw, depression tw, slut shaming tw, 13rw for ts olivia baker  ----  death mention,  suicide mention,  13rw for ts beatrice baudelaire  ----  fire tw,  death tw genevieve quagmire  ----  fire tw,  death tw isadora quagmire  ----  abduction tw,  kidnapping tw thea queen  ----  death tw,  blood tw,  drugs tw,  alcohol tw, drug mention andrew ryan  ----  death tw,  blood tw booker dewitt  ----  death tw,  blood tw,  alcohol tw,  violence tw diane mcclintock  ----  death tw,  blood tw eleanor lamb  ----  torture tw,  child abuse tw,  abuse tw,  violence tw elizabeth comstock  ----  torture tw,  death tw,  blood tw frank fontaine  ----  death tw,  torture tw,  blood tw,  gore tw jack ryan  ----  mind control tw,  blood tw leslie burke  ----  death tw,  child death tw gina linetti  ---- gun tw paige matthews  ----  death tw,  blood tw patty halliwell  ----  death tw,  drowning tw, adultery tw penny halliwell  ----  death tw phoebe halliwell  ----  death tw,  blood tw piper halliwell  ----  death tw,  blood tw,  drowning tw prue halliwell  ----  death tw,  blood tw,  drowning tw  hayes morrison  ----  drugs tw,  addiction tw,  alcohol tw, drug mention haley hotchner  ----  death tw emily prentiss  ----  death tw,  stabbing tw,  torture tw,  blood tw,  gun tw elle greenaway  ----  shooting tw,  blood tw,  gun tw erin strauss  ----  alcohol tw,  addiction tw,  death tw,  blood tw jennifer jareau  ----  torture tw,  blood tw,  death tw,  gun tw rita vrataski  ----  death tw,  blood tw,  gun tw,  gore tw april nardini  ----  drug mention addison montgomery  ----  adultery tw,  blood tw,  gore tw,  abortion tw alex karev  ----  blood tw,  gore tw,  shooting tw april kepner  ----  blood tw,  gore tw,  child death tw amelia shepherd  ----  blood tw,  gore tw,  child death tw,  drug mention,  drug tw,  alcohol tw,  addiction tw arizona robbins  ----  blood tw,  gore tw,  death tw,  amputation tw charlotte king  ----  blood tw,  gore tw,  drug mention,  drug tw,  alcohol tw,  addiction tw,  rape tw,  abuse tw cristina yang  ----  blood tw,  gore tw,  miscarriage tw denny duquette  ----  death tw ellis grey  ----  death tw,  alzheimer’s tw,  adultery tw,  blood tw,  gore tw eliza minnick  ----  blood tw,  gore tw george o’malley  ----  death tw,  blood tw,  gore tw izzie stevens  ----  blood tw,  gore tw,  cancer tw jo wilson  ----  blood tw,  gore tw,  abuse tw miranda bailey  ----  blood tw,  gore tw meredith grey  ----  blood tw,  gore tw,  drowning tw,  death tw nathan riggs  ----  blood tw,  gore tw violet turner  ----  blood tw,  gore tw,  drug mention,  drug tw alice longbottom  ----  torture tw ginny weasley  ----  blood tw hermione granger  ----  blood tw,  torture tw lily evans  ----  blood tw,  death tw nymphadora tonks  ----  death tw sirius black  ----  death tw ted tonks  ----  death tw elisabet sobeck  ----  death tw chloe price  ----  death tw,  drug mention,  drug tw aida  ----  death tw,  torture tw antoine triplett  ----  death tw bobbi morse  ----  shooting tw cassie lang  ----  death tw gamora  ----  torture tw gwen stacy  ---- death tw hope mackenzie  ----  death tw,  child death tw jemma simmons  ----  gun tw,  ptsd tw,  depression tw,  torture tw jessica jones  ----  rape tw,  blood tw,  depression tw,  ptsd tw,  kilgrave for ts,  kilgrave tw,  jessica jones for ts leo fitz  ----  torture tw,  death tw,  blood tw,  gun tw melinda may  ----  death tw,  ptsd tw,  depression tw,  blood tw nebula  ----  torture tw,  body horror tw peggy carter  ----  alzheimer’s tw,  death tw,  blood tw,  gore tw,  gun tw,  depression tw,  ptsd tw pepper potts  ----  ptsd tw peter parker  ----  blood tw steve rogers  ----  blood tw,  depression tw,  ptsd tw,  death tw,  war tw tony stark  ----  blood tw,  depression tw,  ptsd tw,  alcohol tw anya  ----  amnesia tw,  gun tw elizabeth vaughan  ----  abortion tw,  smoking tw,  adultery tw,  bipohbia tw,  death tw evan hansen  ----  depression tw,  anxiety tw,  suicide tw gleb vaganov  ----  gun tw ilse neumann  ----  abuse tw,  child abuse tw,  rape tw jamie wellerstein  ----  adultery tw jenna hunterson  ----  abuse tw,  adultery tw lily craven  ----  death tw sarah  ----  death tw the baker’s wife  ----  death tw,  adultery tw wendla bergmann  ----  death tw,  rape tw zoe murphy  ----  abuse tw nicky nichols  ----  drug mention,  drug tw poussey washington  ----  drug mention,  drug tw,  death tw alison hendrix  ----  drug tw,  drug mention,  addiction tw,  alcohol tw,  blood tw, gun tw beth childs  ----  drug tw,  drug mention,  addiction tw,  alcohol tw,  blood tw,  death tw,  suicide tw gracie johanssen  ----  abuse tw,  miscarriage tw,  body horror tw helena  ----  gore tw,  blood tw,  torture tw,  self harm tw,  gun tw kira manning  ----  blood tw krystal goderitch  ----  rape tw rachel duncan  ----  blood tw,  gore tw,  body horror tw sarah manning  ----  blood tw,  gore tw,  drug tw,  alcohol tw,  drug mention siobhan sadler  ----  blood tw,  gore tw adam braverman  ----  drug tw,  drug mention,  alcohol tw amber holt  ----  drug tw,  drug mention,  alcohol tw,  blood tw crosby braverman  ----  drug tw,  drug mention,  alcohol tw haddie braverman  ----  drug tw,  drug mention kristina braverman  ----  cancer tw,  drug tw,  drug mention,  alcohol tw sarah braverman  ----  drug tw,  drug mention,  alcohol tw,  addiction tw chris traeger  ----  depression tw,  anxiety tw will turner  ----  blood tw,  gore tw,  death tw b'elanna torres  ----  self harm tw,  death tw,  suicide tw,  blood tw,  body horror tw,  racism tw,  ptsd tw beverly crusher  ----  blood tw chakotay  ----  blood tw,  death tw,  rape tw,  ptsd tw the doctor  ----  blood tw,  ptsd tw harry kim  ----  blood tw,  death tw,  body horror tw,  ptsd tw jadzia dax  ----  blood tw,  death tw,  murder tw icheb  ----  body horror tw,  ptsd tw kathryn janeway  ----  depression tw,  death tw,  blood tw,  gun tw,  body horror tw,  ptsd tw kira nerys  ----  blood tw,  gun tw,  potential incest tw,  ptsd tw mezoti  ----  body horror tw,  ptsd tw natasha yar  ----  blood tw,  rape tw,  abuse tw,  death tw seska  ----  rape tw,  death tw,  blood tw seven of nine  ----  blood tw,  death tw,  body horror tw tom paris  ----  blood tw,  death tw tuvok  ----  blood tw,  death tw william t. riker  ----  blood tw,  death tw jyn erso  ----  blood tw,  death tw han solo  ----  death tw leia organa  ----  incest tw (kinda iffy on this one but just in case bc she kissed luke), carrie fisher for ts luke skywalker  ----  body horror tw,  amputation tw padme amidala  ----  death tw shmi skywalker  ----  death tw,  slavery tw,  abuse tw emily charlton  ----  anorexia tw,  eating disorder tw,  ed tw,  ed mention rachel watson  ----  addiction tw,  alcohol tw,  blood tw,  gore tw june / offred  ----  rape tw,  mutilation tw,  the handmaid’s tale for ts emily / ofglen  ----  hanging tw  (  book verse only  ),  rape tw,  mutilation tw,  death tw,  the handmaid’s tale for ts janine / ofwarren  ----  rape tw,  mutilation tw,  depression tw,  eye horror tw,  suicide attempt tw,  suicide tw,  the handmaid’s tale for ts moira  ----  rape tw,  depression tw,  the handmaid’s tale for ts katniss everdeen  ----  blood tw,  death tw bilbo baggins  ----  blood tw,  spider tw faramir  ----  blood tw,  fire tw frodo baggins  ----  blood tw,  spider tw,  depression tw meriadoc brandybuck  ----  blood tw peregrin took  ----  blood tw samwise gamgee  ----  blood tw angela martin  ----  adultery tw dwight schrute  ----  adultery tw jack pearson  ----  alcohol tw,  death tw randall pearson  ----  anxiety tw lucy preston  ----  blood tw,  kidnapping tw,  gun tw rufus carlin  ----  shooting tw,  blood tw,  gun tw wyatt logan  ----  blood tw,  gun tw alice cullen  ----  death tw,  blood tw bree tanner  ----  death tw,  blood tw esme cullen  ----  death tw,  abuse tw,  suicide tw,  blood tw jasper hale  ----  death tw,  blood tw,  war tw lev calder  ----  death tw,  blood tw risa ward  ----  blood tw

[witchqueenofthemoon]

“You know,” she said, as he moved towards her, carefully, “today, after I got here, I looked at your home for a long time. Its energy. Its spirit.”

“What did you see?” He couldn’t remove the longing from his voice; everything I want, everything I need, he thought. It’s you. Only you. He came up against the other side, against the wall of his study; he leaned against it, his arm propped up, trying to look out at the capital city’s glow; but his eyes turned to her, almost involuntary, lost in her.

She dipped her head down for a moment, thoughtful, her eyes to the steep incline of the ground, thirty stories down; the crystal glass glinted in her hand again, throwing stardust against her cheek.

“That you love art and beauty. That you love books. That you love the strength of women; the strength and yes, the beauty, and the beauty of men, too, I think. I think so. And that you have a great and hidden depth in you, Duncan Shepherd, one that perhaps not everyone around you sees; one that you hold secret, pressed against your heart.”

He kept his eyes on her. She turned to him, dazzling, soft, and he noticed her wine glass was almost empty now.

“I think you really are like the God of the Underworld; a prince on a cold throne. And I think you need a Queen made of Light who sees the light in you. And I think I am her.”

from Part 11 of Body and Soul, a Millory/House of Cards AU, by me ( @witchqueenofdarkness ).

[codyfernaesthetic]

I love their love

@witchqueenofdarkness

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 29 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: Okay y’all...listen. I meant to get this part up yesterday, but the Met Gala ate my fucking soul. Billie and Cody finally together at an event since MONTHS AGO at Ryan Murphy’s Walk of Fame ceremony is a thing I have been waiting for...since then, which was back in November. NEEDLESS TO SAY I WAS KIND OF DISTRACTED. Cody looked like some kind of cerulean space prince, and Kenzie looked like a goddamn glitter princess barbie, and then they started screaming along to Cher together and I DIED and now I’m speaking to you from heaven. IT’S BEEN A HUNDRED YEARS SINCE WE GOT ANY COLLIE CONTENT. I was on cloud nine, and I still am. It’s the intense, magnetic chemistry between them that birthed Millory in the first place, and Millory, of course, birthed Duckenzie. The two of them so happy together after months of not seeing each other was just so incredibly wonderful, I feel so grateful to Leslie in particular. I still feel like I’m high off of all of it, but especially the two of them, who are just absolute royalty to me. AND NOW ON TO THE CHAPTER: This is a big one. I’ve been waiting for a long time to introduce Rosemary to all of you--who is (did you guess?) my Angela Basset/Marie Laveau AU. I’ve known for awhile that she was going to play an important role in this story, and it was as wonderful for me to meet her as it was for Duckenzie here. She’ll show up one more time before the end; and I might do a little one-shot eventually where they go to visit her in New Orleans. She makes a really mean gumbo. Her top is like this, her skirt like this, her headscarf, her boots, some of her necklaces: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. A reminder that Kenzie’s dress in this part looks like this. The Fates, at least, my version of them (certainly based on the Moirai but also on the many incarnations of Hecate, as she bestows magical powers on Kenzie and Duncan, and on the witches in the AHS universe, and all witches in all universes, at least in my mythology), were always going to be the Triple Goddess, the Goddess many witchcraft practitioners (myself included) pay homage to: once again, the Divine Feminine energy that guides true goodness in the universe. Her mythology is partially my own invention (giving her a Heaven, making her the force of Light that fights against cosmic Darkness/the Devil, rather than a patriarchal god), partially in accordance to many witch beliefs. I loved that “god” appears to Michael in APOCALYPSE as a little girl; if anyone remembers that I put Ariana Grande’s GOD IS A WOMAN way back in Part 4 (cuz y’all, even then I had plans), you get a cookie. Duckenzie’s High Destiny has long been in the works in the grace notes of my story; it’s the cosmic energy of their union bringing a balance into their world. I’d need some weed to deal with the information they’re given, hence they smoke some weed. To finally have a chance to explain the way in which Duncan and Kenzie are Michael and Mallory was a big moment for me and for this fic; and to explain that she will always be his saving grace, too. I didn’t want to focus on sadness or despair regarding Duncan’s fate as Michael; rather the joy of the redemption of Duncan’s universe. I had to put WITCH-QUEEN OF NEW ORLEANS in this part as an homage to Rosemary being Marie Laveau in another life (also, it’s a fucking jam). Had to include a nod to Purity Ring’s BEGIN AGAIN in Duncan’s thoughts when he’s eating Kenzie out in this part, the most Millory song of all time to me. A reminder that this is the Demeter/Persephone illustration. This is the one of Selene looking down on Endymion. The excerpt Kenzie reads is indeed directly from the book. This chapter marks the closure of an important arc of my fic; from here on out, I’m moving forward into the last 1/3 of the story. As ever, your reblogs, comments, asks and edits (moodboards, playlists, aesthetics, everything) mean the world to me. If you’re reading, please take a minute to reblog the masterpost, thank you. 

The light was high when he finally woke; the day was half over, Duncan could tell immediately, before he even opened his eyes. We slept all morning. Oh god, that’s so fucking wonderful. I don’t remember the last time I slept all morning. Something had woken him, he knew with a vague knowledge. A loud sound.

His dream drifted off. I was in the woods, dirty, starving, tired, and a little girl was offering me an apple, but I wouldn’t take it for some reason...I was waiting for someone else...and he forgot it, moving up from sleep into the summer daylight. The room was balmy-warm, the golden sunlight past the window, coming from somewhere overhead, the wind drifting on the curtains again, the sound of a crow cawing outside somewhere over the lake. It was at least midday, but Duncan could smell the remnants of the hickory fire wafting through the window. It really was a good fire. And I made it. I pulled it out of my own heart, that fire.

There was a long, low buzzing--the doorbell, Duncan knew. Or rather, the bell for the front gate, the keypad and security feed downstairs beside the walnut-wood front door. Who the fuck could that possibly be. We didn’t tell anyone but Madeline where we were going. Maybe it is Madeline?

He stirred, his arm instinctively coming around Kenzie’s breast, his nose turning down into her hair; it smelled like the grass, the sun, her sweet sweat, and the residue of her rosy-jasmine shampoo. The bed was so wonderfully soft, the feel of her so exquisite--Duncan sent out jabs of resentment towards the sound that had woken him. How fucking dare you.

Kenzie stirred a little against him--he leaned up, brushing the hair from her cheek to kiss it. The buzz rang out again, low and insistent and bracing. Her eyes fluttered and she let out a little moan, turning her face up towards him.

“Dunny, what is that,” she murmured. “Turn it off.”

“It’s the buzzer for the gate, baby,” he replied, his own voice coming out in a groan. “Someone’s at the gate.”

Her eyes came open immediately at that. “What? Who?”

“I have no idea. Did we even tell anyone where the cabin is?”

“I didn’t. Did you?”

“No...I don’t think so…”

The buzzer rang again; Kenzie moaned, turning into him, burying her face in his bare chest. How fucking dare you, he thought again, bringing his face down, kissing beside the dip of her eye. How dare you make me get out of bed, away from her. Who could have possibly found us? He hesitated for a long moment, contemplating staying and letting whoever it was ring the buzzer until they got tired and went away--but no, he thought, with a twinge of precognition. It’s someone important. It’s someone we have to see. Oh god, I hope it isn’t Annette.

Duncan got up, pained to move away from her, sliding over the softness of the bed. He trod naked to his suitcase, feeling Kenzie’s eyes on him, her eyes falling down to the half-hardness of his sleepy cock, a pout around her mouth. We came out here to get away from everyone, and still, someone found us. Somehow. Fuck. He pulled on briefs and another pair of jersey shorts, these in dark black, and one of the plain black tee shirts, ruffling a hand through his hair, and yawned.

The buzzer. Again.

“Fuuuuck,” he breathed. “Who the fuck is that?”

“If it’s Annette, I’m going to freak out,” Kenzie said, and Duncan watched her affectionately as she kicked her legs under the soft covers in frustration. He glanced at an elaborate golden-framed clock, beside one of the laurels. It was 12:17 PM. Fuck, it’s past noon. We slept for a long time. Fuck it. We earned it. We had a perfect day yesterday, full of wonders, and a perfect, long sleep. And now what--now what.

“I’ll be right back, baby.” Duncan hesitated, then winked at her. Fuck it. I’ll move through space again. Why not. He closed his eyes and grinned as he heard Kenzie’s delighted hum towards him, felt her knowledge at what he was about to do. That’s it, Dunny, show me your magic. Then her laugh cut off--he ached at the loss of it--and before he opened his eyes again, he already knew he was downstairs, facing the inside of the front door.

There was a small iPad beside the door here, the intercom below it and remote buttons for opening and closing the gate. Duncan tapped the tablet with a finger, and the security camera feed came up, facing the outward side of the road. There was a red Toyota Camry parked there, and the woman in the front seat was pressing insistently at the buzzer--he heard it ring again through the house, heard the far-away sound of another exasperated groan from Kenzie upstairs. He couldn’t see the woman’s face very well from this angle, but he could see the chocolatey color of her skin as she extended an arm through the car window. Her nails were long and red.

Duncan switched the cameras; now the one on the feed was from straight above the outside buzzer the woman was pressing so incessantly. Now he could see into the driver’s seat clearly. He didn’t recognize the woman at all, but she was stunningly beautiful; she had sharp, slanting cheekbones, pursed in impatience, full lips in deep mauve, a dark silk titian-colored scarf wrapped around her head. Her eyes flashed out at him through the camera; they were dramatically intense and bright, brimming with secret knowledge. Her skin was warm cocoa-brown, and flawless. Duncan shivered.

Who are you?

He pressed the talk button on the program’s interface, puzzled, frowning.

“Can I help you?”

The woman started; Duncan saw her jerk back in her seat, surprised. Her expression shifted from frustration to one that seemed to be relief--it was difficult to tell on the feed, but she seemed tired, as though she’d been waiting for a long time, or had missed sleep, her expression drawn. As he watched her on the iPad screen, she pressed a hand between her eyes, then lifted her palms together skyward, as if in a silent prayer of thanks.Then she leaned over and spoke into the intercom.

“Praise be to Her, is this Duncan Shepherd?”

Duncan balked. Fuck. Shit. They found us. Someone found us.

“May I ask who you are and what your business here is?”

“I know that’s you, I can feel that it’s you, honey--and I can feel Mackenzie Stone here, too. I need you to let me in. I drove almost 17 hours with some very poor sleep in between to get here from New Orleans, pulled by the Will of the Goddess with a forceful hand, because She wants me to speak to you two and tell you what She told me, that the time is upon us. Now, if you would be so kind, I am starving and would appreciate some breakfast, and I need to park this car before I crash it into a tree, blue eyes.”

“How did you find us? We didn’t tell anyone where we were going. We’ve been here for a day--”

“Sugar, honey, listen, I told you. The Goddess. Sent. Me. She came to me and She told me where you were and She told me everything. It’s gonna take awhile to tell you everything, so you best let me in and make me some eggs and some black coffee and roll me a big joint of that strong blue weed I know you got.”

What the fuck.

“Who are you?”

The woman let out a long sigh, rolling her eyes, dipping her chin up, then turned back to the intercom, enunciating with a pointed impatience.

“I am Her Hand, and She sent me, and Her will is to reveal your High Destiny. My name is Rosemary Antigone Delacroix, and you, Duncan Malcolm Shepherd, best let me the fuck in.”

Her words came like a heavy weight against Duncan’s mind, a pressing hand squeezing on his heart. This woman was powerful; he could feel her power from here, surrounding him, pressing against him, running along the edges of his skin, brushing the sleep from his mind, stoking him wide awake. This woman is a seer, a priestess. She can see things that are happening, have happened, will happen. She’s the one who was coming--the thing on the horizon that we felt on its way. And now she’s here. It’s her destiny to come to us, it’s our destiny to receive and hear her. Okay, Fates. I get it. I’m picking it up, loud and clear. Shit.

Duncan double-tapped the button beside the intercom; OPEN GATE.

He watched the beautiful woman through the screen; she smiled, her teeth shining out from her face--he could see her eyes flash, marvelously clear despite the smallness of the iPad screen.

“Blessed be,” she said, pushing a pair of large dark sunglasses over her eyes. Then she laughed, and the laugh sent a shiver up Duncan’s spine; it was lit with a bright joy that seemed to descend from the top of his head down into every part of his body, a tingling, vibrating energy charged with prophecy. It’s here. She’s here. The thing that was coming has arrived.

He turned away from the intercom and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time; his heart was hammering and he felt far too nervous, suddenly, to try to use his still-mysterious power once more.

“Kenz,” he called as he reached the landing, sprinting down the hall. Something was lifting him up now; kindling his excitement, pitching his nerves to a high place. “Baby--” He ran through the bedroom doorway, skidding to a stop, falling onto the bed on his knees. Kenzie was sitting up now, clutching the blanket against her naked torso, her chestnut-light hair tangled around her shoulders, staring at him with an apprehension in her sleepy eyes; then she saw his face, lit with that strange excitement building in his gut, and smiled at him, nervously.

“Dunny, what? Who was it? What is it?”

“Kenzie, it’s--I don’t know who she is, but it’s her. The one that was coming. The one we felt. You know? She’s the one. She’s beautiful, Kenzie. She’s a medium--or something, I can feel it. You know how we were talking about going to see a psychic? Well--I think she came to us. She felt us. Kenzie, she said she just drove here for 17 hours from New Orleans. She said her name is...Rosemary. Something. She said--fuck, Kenzie, she said The Goddess sent me, She told me where you were--”

His words were tumbling out at break-neck speed--he slid over the softness of the bed to grasp Kenzie’s (beautiful, tiny, beloved) hands, and he could see the uncertainty in her gaze bleeding out into the excitement he felt.

“Duncan--really?”

“Really, my love. Oh, fuck. Really.”

Kenzie let the blanket fall away from her, and Duncan couldn’t stop himself--he clutched at her, under the sweet roundness of her little breasts, pulled her against him, immediately devouring her mouth in a kiss that flooded his body with tingling energy. Her divinity washed over him--the tide of her. Mackenzie Stone. We’re here, at the doorway, our Fate is on the other side. I’m not afraid. You’re here with me.

“I found you,” he murmured into her lips. “I found you, I found you, we’re here, we’re here together, I’m ready--”

“Oh, baby--” and Kenzie was kissing him breathlessly, her smell the sweetest thing in all the world, roses crushing into him. Duncan leaned away to look at her; Kenzie’s eyes were gold-flecked and infinitely bright, and her beauty was iridescent in the noon sunlight winking through the curtains. Mackenzie Shepherd, angel of my life, the part of me that was cut away, the fixed, irrevocable light of my soul.

“She said she has a lot to tell us. She’s coming now, she’s probably almost at the door. I’m going to make us all some breakfast. She knew things, Kenz, I don’t fucking know--I feel like she knows everything about us. You’ll see. Even through the screen I could feel her power. It was coppery-purple, like a sheen all over her...come downstairs when you’re ready, okay, baby? Take your time. I can feel it, can you feel it?”

“Yes, baby, yes. I can feel it so much I can hardly breathe.” Tears were in her eyes; he kissed her again, and Kenzie clung to him, her softness overwhelming to him, and for a moment he wished he could throw her down into the bed, kiss every inch of her nakedness, every tiny secret place of her heart. Then they broke apart; Duncan knew as he could feel she did that the time was upon them, and his adorations would have to come later. 

The time when we find out who we really are.

Kenzie slid away from him towards the edge of the bed and he grasped her waist, helping her down--she stood there, naked and shivering in some phantom breeze, her golden hair falling down her back in a shimmering wave, then she kneeled to her suitcase, tucking the strands that fell into her eyes behind her ears, looking away from him, determined. Duncan gathered up the bag of weed, the lighter, his grinder and his gold pipe from one of the laurel mantels where they’d left it yesterday, then went to the door, looking back at her again for a moment, trailing a hand through the side of his hair.

“Kenzie, baby--”

“Dunny, I know. I know. Just go downstairs, okay? I’ll be there soon. I know. I feel it too.”

He nodded inside her gold-flecked gaze, then turned away, sniffing back the tears he felt coming, trying to stave them. I feel the hand of destiny, and oh Fate, it’s heavy. It’s fearsome to behold it, to contemplate its weight, this Thing, this knowledge we’re about to be given.

Duncan heard a sharp, determined knock on the door downstairs then, and his breath caught. He ran down the hall, throwing himself down the stairs; he reached the door, flipping the double turning locks in fumbling fingers, yanked at the long handle--as he pulled the door wide a burst of golden sunlight drifted over his eyes, caught in the dappled trees. He lifted a hand to shield his face, and saw the woman standing there, silhouetted in a golden shroud that was like a holy halo around her. A halo, like Kenzie’s, Duncan thought. And then he heard her laugh again--and her laugh was even more beautiful now that he was standing before her. A laugh the angels would sigh to hear.

She reached out for him--Duncan felt frozen inside her dark-bright eyes, intensely focused on him beneath arched, graceful brows, the sharpness of her cheeks glowing dark sienna in the sun. She was immediately imposing; regal, her posture graceful, her poise intimidating and unmistakable. Her mouth smiled that radiantly white smile he’d glimpsed through the iPad screen; his breath caught to see it in the flesh, struck by her majesty, the expression on her staggeringly beautiful features, knowing, wise, and expectant. Her burgundy-colored blouse had long, drifting sleeves that fluttered in the slight wind, and her long black skirt fell to her ankles with an intricate pattern of flowers and vines. On her feet were heeled knee-high boots in dark brown leather. Around her neck were what seemed to be a dozen necklaces, gold and silver chains mixed in with leather cords and multi-colored ropes of beads; a raven skull, the claws of unknown animals, the symbol of the waxing, full, and waning moons (like the one Kenzie has), the voluptuous shape of a woman, a huge pointed obsidian, and countless tiny quartz points.

“I see what she’s done to you, Evening Star,” she said, and Duncan felt his breath gasp, suddenly caught in his throat. That’s what Kenzie called me. Sword of the Evening Star. “Snatched you from the jaws of darkness in this world. And I am moved to see it. As I knew I would be. The time of your High Destiny has come.”

Her hand came around his; her touch was very warm and strong. As she stepped closer Duncan could smell myrrh and resin and musky vanilla. The urge of tears rose in him again--the woman clasped her other hand around his, so she was gripping it in both. Her face was about level to his chin in her heeled boots, and she looked up at him with an approving grace; she seems taller than me, though, he thought. The energy around her is so focused; so carefully, intricately controlled.

“What did you say your name was?” He asked, and heard the trembling in his voice.

“Rosemary Antigone Delacroix. High Priestess of Her Will. The Goddess, from whom all life in this universe flows; from whom the life in every universe flows. Mother of all, three-faced, infinite. Your mother, and mine, and the mother of the High Princess, the Hidden Sphere Herself, whom you are blessed to love. Infinitely blessed, sweet Prince, with whom you will heal this suffering world.”

Goosebumps broke out all over his skin, the tiny hairs on his arms and the back of his neck prickling instantly, wildly. I knew it. I felt it. That she’s divine. That she’s holy.

“Please, come in.”

Rosemary’s smile lingered as she stepped past him, scattering its light over him; she moved into the house, beyond the staircase, her steps determined, her movements refined, hands clasped together in front of her, through the front room and towards the kitchen. She seemed to know where it was without needing to ask him, and Duncan followed, mesmerized by her. As they reached the kitchen Rosemary sat at the wooden island, reaching out for his hand again--this time, he knew, for the one that held the weed. He passed it all off to her and she sighed; the sound of her voice was deeply lovely, but he could hear the tinge of tiredness.

“Make me some eggs, would you, sugar? I like ‘em a little runny, lots of butter. And some of that turkey bacon I know you have in the fridge there.” Duncan stared for a moment, blinking as she rolled a big bud in her fingers, then began to sprinkle it inside his grinder. She paused, looking up at him expectantly. “And a big-ass coffee. I’ll pack this bowl. All three of us are going to need some fortification for these revelations.  Don’t you worry, your seer is here. I know you’ve been waiting, I feel it in this house, you filled it with your hopes and dreams and your confusion as soon as you got here. I feel it on your skin. You two have power unlike any I’ve ever seen, but you haven’t learned how to control it yet, that’s for certain. It’s zooming around in this space like it’s been snorting cocaine.”

Duncan turned as if waking out of a dream to the fridge, pulling out the eggs, bacon, and a stick of butter, retrieving a frying pan from a line of them against the wall, listening to the smooth clarity of her voice. Her energy seemed to be settling into the kitchen--dusky purple, warm, steady. He could almost see it, the way he could see Kenzie’s gold sometimes. She was taking the edge off him--bringing him down to her calmness, her certainty.

“So...Rosemary. Who--what--how--” He went to the Keurig that sat on the counter, starting a cup, then brought a hand absently to his chin, looking back at her again. She was deftly packing the bowl to the brim, the smile still playing at the corners of her mouth. “How did you...what did She...”

The Goddess, triple-faced, infinite.

“Shhh, blue-eyed Prince. You need to take it slow. All of this--” she gestured around the kitchen, but Duncan knew she meant all of it--the cabin, the lake, the forest with the clearing of black oaks, the field open to the stars--”this place is potent, full of your power, like a power outlet for your magicks. It’s why they’ve been so strong since you got here. This is an in-between place, and anyone who has even a little bit of the power you two have can feel it. But for the High Princess and her sweet consort, it’s like being given an electric shock--one that goes on and on. It’s the reason your lusts have been so potent, too.”

Duncan blushed at that. Lately, mine always are.

She smiled at him, knowing, then lit the bowl and breathed deeply from it, blowing out in a satisfied stream, leaning back against the wooden island.

“Hoo, that’s some good rich people shit,” she hummed. “Ooph, that’s good. Just what I needed, Praise be to Her. Thank you, Mother.”

Duncan got to work on the eggs, carefully cracking two into the pan and slipping two sides of the bacon next to them, deftly pressing the edges of the egg whites with a steel spatula. The smell made his stomach immediately begin to rumble; she’s right, we definitely need to eat before we get into all of this. All...of what?

“You two.” He could hear Rosemary laughing a little now from where his back was turned. “You two have burst upon the world like a garden. The media was not prepared. The public was not prepared. The world is not prepared, but they will get prepared--real quick. The current of time has turned towards fortune. And that, my dear Prince, is a beautiful thing. Beautiful beyond words. That I have lived to see this time is a great blessing.”

“Rosemary, what do you mean? How did you find us here?”

“Wait for her. For the Princess. The little golden goddess. Then I’ll begin.”

Duncan pulled down a plate and slipped the eggs onto it, a little runny, glassy with butter as she had asked. He flipped the bacon to let it fry for a bit longer, and brought the plate over to Rosemary, who appraised him with power drifting in her gaze. She took it, her warm hand brushing against his again; he felt the current pass through them, felt her strength, the depths of her knowledge touch his mind.

“You’ve been manifesting powers here, have you? And before you got here, too.”

“Fuck, yes. Non-stop, practically. I’ve been--transporting myself with my mind. Teleporting? I don’t know what to call it.”

“Transmutation. Salire per spatium. The ability to move, magically, instantly, from one space to another, without physically occupying the space between.” Rosemary took another long puff from Duncan’s gold pipe, then sliced into an egg with her fork, dipping it between her very white teeth. “Mm, baby. Perfect. You can fry an egg for certain.”

“Yeah. Yes. And Pyrokinesis. That’s what it’s called, right? The ability to conjure fire.”

“Create, control, manipulate. All of it. You can do all of those, I guarantee it. Try it.” She nodded to the stovetop, which Duncan had turned on manually. The bacon was sizzling, done--Duncan took a deep breath, then drifted his fingers close to the element, concentrated. Go back now. Go back. The fire went low, blue-white, and then died--the stovetop began to cool instantly.

“Mm--mm-mm,” Rosemary hummed. “Lovely. I can do a little myself, but nothing so smooth as that. That’s lovely. And I can only imagine what she’s been doing.”

“It’s so beautiful, Rosemary. She is so beautiful. I can’t even tell you…”

“You’re biased, baby blue, but I’m sure you’re right. Any other things you’ve found out you can do?”

“She can sense my emotions over long distances...I found out something I hadn’t known the other day that really upset me, and she felt my emotions even though we were on opposite sides of the city. And...we can read each other’s thoughts. You’re the first person who knows that, and I don’t even know who you are. But...yeah. It’s like colors--she looks and feels like gold...she says mine is blue. I can kind of see mine, sometimes, if the emotion is really strong. Now that she’s here. I couldn’t...I couldn’t do any of this before. Before we met.”

Duncan brought the bacon over to Rosemary’s plate and slid it down from the pan. She immediately dipped a graceful hand to it, blowing on it, crunching it in her teeth. He brought her coffee over, starting one for Kenzie now. “I can hear little bits of other people’s thoughts now sometimes, when they’re really strong. I think Kenzie can do it almost all the time. And she can heal people--their bodies, their hearts, their anger. It looks like gold when she does that, too. She can sort of...press it into people, like she’s wrapping them in a blanket.”

He started more eggs in the pan, silent for a little while as Rosemary sipped her coffee. Then he went on.

“Two nights ago there was a Gala--”

“The Shepherd Freedom Foundation Gala, everyone knows that, honey,” Rosemary cut him off. “You two are on the front page of a lot of shit since yesterday.”

Duncan winced, plating the other eggs and getting to work on more bacon. “Really? We turned our phones off before we left. We really wanted to just get away for a few days. It’s been...really intense since Kenzie and I found each other. The scrutiny’s been intense.”

“I understand, Duncan. When my task is done--that is, to tell you your destiny--I’ll be gone, for I have many duties, and you will have a little more time to be alone together. But the Goddess told me what to do, so I’m doing it. When She speaks, everyone best listen. Let me give you a warning. When the two of you go back--back to DC, I mean--the world will have changed. As if time opened a new window. You are on the path now, one heading towards a bright future, not just for you and Mackenzie, but for this universe. There are many--universes, I mean. Not all of them are kind, or light, or good, some of them have no light, and some have a depth of both. This universe has much darkness, but like clouds parting from the sun, your union here will bring transcendent light. As there is a balance of greater darkness in other universes, this one will swing to the light. A major obstacle will have passed when you return, but there will be a new onslaught of attention focused on you and Mackenzie. You will need to be her sword at every turn; you will bow to her light and others will follow your example. So gather your strength.”

Duncan’s head was pounding. What does any of that even mean? Other universes?

“Are you talking about...quantum theory? Like, parallel universes?”

At that moment Duncan heard a soft sound in the doorway--he looked up to see Kenzie coming into the kitchen on bare feet. She was tucking her chestnut-golden hair behind her ear, her face nervously turned down, eyes huge, fingers at her mouth; she wore a floor-length white linen dress, covered in a print of pale pinkish roses, with a dipping neck and short, puffed sleeves. The Tiffany moon glinted at her throat; as she moved her arm the Cartier bracelet flashed there in gold and diamond. Rosemary had turned to her, and Kenzie’s eyes were wide on the other woman. God she’s so beautiful so beautiful so powerful I can feel her lovely power like a field of a thousand violets, like the water flowing out from the sea...Duncan could hear Kenzie’s thoughts falling out of her in a long stream.

Rosemary’s face was cast into an immediate affection--a curious wonder. Her mouth dipped open, away from the black coffee cup which had been poised at her mouth a moment before, and she sighed; the sigh of relief that comes after a long, anticipatory wait.

“Child. Sweet child of heaven.”

“Hi,” Kenzie whispered. She stopped in front of Rosemary, and the woman reached out her beautiful dark fingers. Kenzie slipped her small hands against Rosemary’s; Duncan felt speechless, his heart feeling crushed by the moment, his eyes immediately blurred by tears.

“I am Rosemary Delacroix, and I am a mouthpiece for Her, the three-headed, the absolute, the Goddess. She has many names. Time. The universe. God. Goddess. Fate. Destiny. But she is the one who brought all life to be, kindled it, nurtured it, tended to it. She is the one who remakes life, rebuilds it, cycles it through every age, in every place, in every aspect. She made me; she made you and your sweet blue-eyed Prince from the stars burning like these diamonds, many eons ago.” Rosemary’s finger drifted to the bracelet; her dark eyes glanced up at the one on Duncan’s wrist, knowingly, and he shivered. “She made the thread that tethered you together, Mackenzie Stone and Duncan Shepherd, long ago, before she made Time, because you, sweet High Princess, asked her to. You loved him; you asked to be together always. And she granted your wish. Because you were--you are--beloved in the sight of heaven. You are a High Princess of Her Body, and of the Garden. You are the Hidden Sphere.”

Long, aching tears fell from Kenzie’s cheeks--she glanced over to Duncan, biting her trembling lip, her thoughts crushed gold. I do love him. I do love you, Duncan, more than anything. I do love you. I love you. This woman knows--knows I’m divine, the way you said you knew. The way I can feel it, now, and I can’t find the words.

“It’s fine to cry, honey. It’s fine. You cry as much as you want, mmhm? Come sit with me, angel baby. You come sit with me and let me bask in your sweet light. I can feel it now, like taking a bath in a pool of gold. Goddess, praise be. That’s just fucking lovely. Praise be to Her. She made the masterpiece, sweet sugar, in you--that gold, like a waterfall. What a soul.”

“Duncan’s the one who looks like a masterpiece to me,” Kenzie was laughing a little through her tears, settling down on the bench next to Rosemary, who had dipped a long arm under Kenzie’s elbow to steady her. Duncan brought Kenzie’s breakfast over to her, trying to hide the tears on his cheek with a swift hand--she looked up at him, biting her lip, nodding. “Thanks baby,” she whispered. I love you so much, he heard her thought. I’m not afraid.

“What do you mean, asked to be together always?” Duncan said, his voice trembling. “Are you saying there’s a goddess...that controls the universe, and Kenzie is...what, her daughter?”

Rosemary looked at him for a long moment, her eyes staggering with depth. For a time Duncan felt lost, mesmerized inside them; like the whirling gold galaxies he’d seen in Kenzie’s eyes in the dream, or the blue nebulas she said she saw in his, he felt he could see violet supernovas, cascades of cosmic dust in Rosemary’s gaze for a moment. Something infinite and eternal. Something constant, and huge beyond imagining.

“Make yourself some breakfast first, Duncan. You’re going to need something in your stomach before we really begin. I want both of you to know right now--there is much to tell. It will take some time. My heart is full of all of it. I need your strength, my dear one, to help me tell you everything.” Rosemary pulled Kenzie’s hand into her lap again, gripping it with strong fingers. Kenzie was nodding--a silent, secret thought seemed to pass between them, one Duncan could not see or hear in his mind. He felt immediately frustrated to be cut off from them; then he heard Kenzie speak to him alone in gold waves: be patient, baby, beloved, be patient, okay? Take a breath, the kind you showed me after my nightmare, when you held me so sweetly.

Their eyes met; Rosemary’s gaze shifted between them. Okay baby, Duncan thought, breathing in through his nose, holding it, breathing out. He turned back to his eggs, his stomach in knots.

“To be near both of you gives me strength already.” Rosemary’s face clouded with emotion; she seemed close to tears, and raised the coffee cup to her face again to gather her composure. “The Goddess has made all things in perfect balance, the light and dark, the day and night, and both of you--the perfect balance of these things, the great duality of her creations. To be here with you is to behold her Wonders. Eat, child.” Rosemary gestured to Kenzie’s plate, and Kenzie nodded, picking up a piece of the bacon, biting into it. Duncan brought his own breakfast over to the island, and sat carefully, across from her, reaching out his hand. Kenzie took it, her eyes wildly bright.

My heart feels like it’s going to burst, Dunny, she thought.

Mine too, my sweet Kenzie. Oh, god. Goddess. Whoever is listening. The Fates who have been guiding us…

“Rosemary,” Duncan said, looking into the woman’s dark eyes. “Since we met, I keep going back to this one image, of the Fates, you know, like in mythology--Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos. I keep seeing them in my mind’s eye, seeing them weaving this thread for us, the one that brought us together. Does that mean something?”

Rosemary finished the food on her plate, sighed a little, contentedly, and brought his gold pipe up to her lips again, breathing deeply. She dipped a hand under her chin, her eyes taking on a serene expression.

“It’s Her. She is the Fates. The Goddess--She has three faces. Many know Her by them, and worship Her in these aspects, She has many names. She is three-headed in that way; She is never totally the same from one moment to the next. When She came to me this time, She was very young and beautiful--Her skin like the tanned sand under a long sun--Her eyes bright in unbroken joy, her body smooth. But She does not always appear this way. Her aspect is ever-changing, the color of Her skin, Her hair, Her eyes, Her face; when I see Her, I feel it is Her, for She never appears the same. Sometimes She is very old, and sometimes She is a mother, her belly swollen, and sometimes She is not a woman at all, not entirely--She is some other great thing, made of stars and strange matter. I’ve seen Her this way, in dreams.”

She passed the pipe to Kenzie, and Kenzie took it in her small hands, head dipping to breathe in from it. Kenzie was still crying--Duncan’s fingers slid over her palm, sending the strongest wave of comfort he could into her. I love you, baby, I love you, everything is okay, everything’s going to be okay, better than okay…

“The Fates are her aspects--all three are Her. You thought of them because you thought of Her--because you knew, you know it was She who brought the two of you together. Your destiny--the High Destiny, as it has been called--was written when the stars were new. Mackenzie Stone, you are the High Princess of her Heaven. You were an Angel, once, Exalted; there is no earthly word for what you were, but an Angel is the closest word to it. You were the most divine of all. You were loved above all by Her in her heaven; and you still are. I know you feel that, child. I know you know you were loved so. And that you are loved--so much. Her eyes have looked down on you from her heaven and thought Beloved, for millions of years.”

“Yes,” and Kenzie was crying earnestly, her lips trembling as she spoke, shoulders shaking, eyes awash in tears. “Yes, Rosemary, I know. I can feel it.” Duncan gripped her hand tightly, aching to hold her; her fingers clutched him, like he was her only tether in a vast ocean.

“Before conceivable time, you fell in love.” Rosemary nodded to Duncan. “You fell in love with him. Listen to me, Duncan: you too were an Exalted being, an Angel, like Mackenzie. They called you the Sword of the Evening Star, as She has told me. You were a Knight--like a Knight, a Prince in the service of Their holy protection--of Her Holy Court; the fairest of all of her Knights, who are very fair indeed, fair beyond earthly eyes. There is a great Darkness in the universe--in the pantheon of universes. It aches to snuff out the light of Her Heaven, the love that dwells there. Some call it the Devil; Satan; Lucifer. He--It--has many names. But It is mostly the Darkness; the energy that must juxtapose her Light. It wishes, eternally, to destroy Her. But her Knights hold it at bay; her fighters, her warriors, her faithful. In that age, you fought for Her Light, and prevailed many times. She loves you very much. She chose you from many to lead the protection of her Sphere; the Heaven she made, long ago. It is Hidden from that Darkness, made safe through the power of her Grace. Get me some water, Duncan, honey.”

Duncan stood, feeling dizzy, going to the fridge. A Knight for a Goddess. A Warrior Prince. He couldn’t even feel incredulous--he was beyond disbelief. Whatever Rosemary is saying is true, he knew. She knows everything--and she has to tell us. My inability to understand doesn’t make any of this impossible. It just makes my ability to conceive it inadequate.

“Each time you are reincarnated--yes, Mackenzie, reincarnated--” Rosemary said, as Kenzie let out a tiny gasp. “The Darkness, in His cunning, tries to get at you. Sometimes, He has succeeded. As there is Feminine energy in the universes, there is also Masculine energy; there is an endless battle of wills, balance of energies. Their duality is not fixed, rather it shifts and changes from universe to universe, age to age. Yes, Duncan, quantum theory, as it’s called--there are many parallel universes next to this one. Infinite universes, in fact, beyond our ability to conceive. A version of you--both of you--exists in each universe. And as there are many universes, there are many lives you have lived before this one, in this universe, as well. There is another life you have glimpsed here, a life you lived in the past--”

“The Mirror,” Kenzie said, softly. Her eyes were staring into Rosemary’s face, but Duncan could see that her thoughts were fixated on the vast golden Mirror he knew was resting silently in the penthouse bedroom, many miles away, a relic to a past that had been unknown to them until this moment. Frederick knew, he thought. He may not have totally understood, but he knew it was special, that it was magical, and that it was always ours.

“Yes, chickadee, sweet honey,” Rosemary sipped her coffee again, cradling it in her graceful red-nailed hands. “That Mirror belonged to you in another life--you were royalty then, a Viscountess, a powerful witch--that is, a seer for Her--at that time too, with many of the skills you are manifesting now. And in that time you found each other as well, but there was an accident; you both were murdered in the Revolution at that time, in the streets of Paris. And so time turned to another place, another page--and your spirits moved on. But the Mirror has magick. It’s no ordinary Mirror. There are strands of the Golden Sphere in it; strands of the divine instrument given to you by the Goddess, Mackenzie, when you were in her Heaven, in her embrace. A gift that symbolized her love, and her Heaven, which will always be your home. When you were cast to earth when the Law of Time was written, the Sphere fell with you, but it was mostly destroyed when the Darkness tried to rend it. What remained--the fragments left over--were made into the Mirror by one of her seers of old; a disciple of her Light, as I am. And so it will always find you in this world, too, for it cannot be destroyed until this world ends.”

Duncan was standing beside the fridge, still holding it open, the water glass poised in his hand, frozen in her words. Kenzie gaped at Rosemary with her mouth dipped open, her golden hair falling around her cheeks. Rosemary glanced between them, then beckoned to Duncan, and said.

“But that is the Law for the two of you. To exist, always, and find each other, always, into eternity, until the Law of Time is over, when you will return to the Sphere of her Grace. No one knows when that will be, or if it will ever be. That I do not know. I only see small bits and pieces of the future, and their shape is always strange to me.”

Duncan’s hand was shaking as he brought the glass he’d filled to Rosemary--but her hand was steady, and she smiled up at him, reassuringly. I think for now I just need to listen, and try to understand, he thought. I can’t even imagine anything to say. Just please hold my hand, baby.

Kenzie reached out again as he sat, twining her fingers through his tightly. She brought another slice of bacon to her lips, eating despite her tears. Duncan moved his fork to his plate, resolved to the same. They ate quietly as Rosemary went on. What else can we do.

“You met, as was meant to happen, in the Garden of All Delights, where the known universes were all born. It’s a very beautiful place--beautiful beyond all conceivable beauty to our pitiful human eyes. It’s made of colors--oh, colors you can’t imagine.”

Those colors I saw in my dreams.

“Like this universe, Duncan, when you laid eyes on Mackenzie there, the first time, you knew she was your love for all time. There you stayed together for eons by our measure of time. The Goddess saw, and She smiled to see your perfect happiness--the selflessness of your love for Her Princess, Her Joy, Her Golden Child, and Her selfless love for you, the perfect embodiment of Her Grace. Your Names, in that perfect state--there aren’t words for them. She didn’t tell them to me, and if She had I could not speak of them. But you know them, in your secret, hidden hearts. They are beyond all human language. I know She’s shown you the forms you had then in a dream--and so you know those forms are beyond human comprehension, nearly beyond description. Please know that those are your true forms. There is more time before you adopt them again, but someday you will return to them again. In some other age.”

Yes, Duncan thought; he knew. Kenzie with her white-gold hair with a thousand flowers, each one a universe. Her eyes like golden galaxies. Her clothing made of impossible geometry. Her wings inconceivable and more delicate than those of any beast on earth. He could feel Kenzie thinking similarly of what she had seen of him in her side of the dream; his long golden hair and eyes like blue nebulas floating in ether, his shining aegis, impossibly slender and delicate, the strange wonder of his own wings.

“When the laws of the universe, of Time, were written, it was dictated that you--you, Mackenzie, and you, Duncan, would always find each other. In every conceivable universe, and every conceivable age. The Goddess, infinite in Her wisdom and mercy, could not spare you from the Great Law--the law of pain, death, and rebirth--but She could ensure that as the cycle of all things goes on, you would find each other in perpetuity. That you would never long be parted from one another. And Her law has been proven true, as it ever was, in Her Grace. I promise you, in every time, in every age, in every universe, you’ve found each other; for the places in which you haven’t yet, you will. And each time either of you dies--for you have both died countless deaths, as I have, as every living soul has--the cycle begins anew. You cannot long be separated. The Old Law of your love--the Great Love, true as dawn--is known and honored for all time.”

“You mean--Rosemary, do you really mean--we’ll always find each other, no matter what?” Duncan clutched at Kenzie’s fingers as he spoke, looking between them.

“No matter what, I promise you. You were the first Soulmates; in your love was written the Law.”

Duncan took the golden pipe from Kenzie’s hands, which were shaking like leaves in caught in a strong wind--he could see his own shaking too, but felt strangely removed from them, lost in the incomprehensibility of Rosemary’s words. He lit the bowl, breathing deeply, holding the smoke inside his lungs for a long moment--it settled into them, and he breathed out, counting. 1, 2, 3, 4...he handed the bowl, still lit, to Kenzie, who breathed from it again. Her tears seemed to dissipate, soften, her shaking fading into calm stillness.

“Rosemary, can we go outside? There’s a gazebo out there--it’s lovely. We can look at the lake. I think Kenzie needs some fresh air.” Kenzie glanced at Duncan with eyes filled with overwhelming affection as he said this. Rosemary nodded, her aspect calming, soothing, and seemingly unbothered by the weight of her words. This is truly a woman of exquisite power. “You bring that bowl, honey.” She reached for Kenzie’s hand and helped her up.

They all made their way out onto the deck and down the stone path, to where the gazebo lay in the pleasing solitude of the early afternoon. Duncan could see a flock of ducks swimming on the surface of the middle of the lake, beyond where the canoe creaked with a pleasant rhythm; there were more clouds in the sky today than yesterday, but it was still bright and warm, the breeze present again. Rosemary helped Kenzie onto one end of the long couch; Kenzie’s face was pale and her hands still seemed to be trembling. Rosemary moved to the other end, and Duncan knew innately she was leaving them space. Space to be together; to hold each other. He felt a wave of gratitude wash out from him towards the beautiful seer, this woman who had appeared as if out of thin air, by magic, in a car that had driven for an entire day, from thousands of miles away, to tell them impossible truths. He felt Rosemary’s drifting indigo-violet energy come against his, and knew she acknowledged his secret power, and his gratitude, as he acknowledged hers.

He slid next to Kenzie, his arms coming around her tightly, his nose falling against her hair to breathe her in. Roses, vetiver, geranium. Her own underlying musk, the heady scent of her and her alone. Kenzie’s head fell against his chest, her arms gripping him at the waist. Kenzie, we’ll always find each other, no matter what. I could die, I could shout into the sky, I could cry and never stop crying. My heart is full of you. My happiness in this knowledge is absolute. Kenzie seemed beyond words, but the drift of her gold against him was so staggeringly lovely, so intense, he fought to breathe. My Persephone. Flower of the universe.

“Now. There’s a lot more She told me to tell you. Listen carefully, my sweet moon children,” and Duncan heard Kenzie’s thought, like a memory, two moon children in love--

“As I told you a little bit ago--there is a great Darkness in the universe, in the pantheon of universes. As She is older than Time, so is the Darkness. He--It--has a far-reaching hand. You know that Darkness in this world; but this world, unlike others, does not have the depth of power that allows it full sway. The magic in this universe is not as vast as it is in others; here it exists in the hidden aspects. Your coming together has brought some of that magic to life here, but it is finite, and it has limits. There are other universes where your power is stronger, but the Darkness is stronger in those universes, too.”

“We’ve been having these dreams...” Kenzie said in a small voice. The air seemed to be soothing her; the breeze ruffled her hair as Duncan’s hands drifted against its softness.

Rosemary was nodding. “The Darkness had you in its grip here, Duncan, and it was attempting to tighten that grip. Your family in this world, its notoriety, its intentions--they have long been conspiring with the Darkness, long been courting its gifts. Your adopted mother, your uncle; they have done terrible things in the name of their own desires, and they wished to drag you into the shadows with them. They almost succeeded; you were almost fooled. But the Old Law prevailed, as it always does, one way or another. That Law is Love; that Law is Mackenzie; that Law is your High Destiny. The Goddess knew that your love would defeat that Darkness every time. And it always will. The Law she wrote is strong and it will hold. But the means by which it holds is never clear until you meet.”

Rosemary had brought her water glass out with them, and sipped at it for a moment, pausing. Her face turned to the lake; as she gazed at it, she smiled, but her smile had some sadness threaded into it. It was a smile that knew the bittersweet taste of life--knew the balance was impregnable.

“There are universes where your ending is not a happy one, I’m afraid. Despite finding each other, you don’t always get to be together this way. You suffer acutely in some; you die. But the death is written too--the death comes at your own hands, or you die together. It’s the Law; if you cannot be together, you must begin again, which means you first must be taken out of that time, the obstacle therefore removed. Duncan, I must tell you; there are universes where the Darkness claims you. And in some of them, in some of those lives, you cannot be saved but through death.”

Duncan felt a heavy hand settle on his heart--felt the breath drift out of his body as he gasped for air. Kenzie held him closer, and he heard the tiny sound of her sob against him. Oh baby, sweet Kenzie, please don’t cry so. Don’t cry for me that way. I love you. Here, we’re together. Please don’t cry. It breaks my heart into a thousand pieces.

“Is that what the dreams mean?” he asked, cradling Kenzie’s shivering body against his. He felt the terrible heat of her tears soaking through his shirt, her face turned into him, hidden, overcome.

“Yes. They are another life. Another universe. One where your ending is not a happy one. One where Kenzie’s love saves you; as it did here, as it ever does; but not to such happy ends, I’m afraid. It’s just one example of the window of infinite lives you have lived, lives you are living as we speak, in other places, in other universes. That life, that universe, is particularly potent. The magick there is much stronger than the magick here. It encircles that world like a dense fog; it surrounds it and seeps into everything. There you have powers beyond imagining, both of you. The power to raise the dead. The power to turn time backwards. The power to change the shape of things; things that should otherwise be immutable. Or destroy them entirely, completely--utterly.”

“Blue butterflies out of rose petals,” Kenzie whispered. “You making snow, Duncan.”

“Yes,” he whispered against her hair. You, Kenzie, blood on your mouth, turning back time.

“The power to travel to Hell, even, Descensum; to the pit of Darkness. Because there, Duncan, you are a being of Darkness. In that world, you are Michael, the Son of Darkness--in that world, the Darkness claimed you when you were born into it, and the Goddess cannot reach you. There, you are a powerful conjurer, a warlock, and Kenzie--Mallory, as you are called there--you are a powerful witch, in fact, the most powerful of all witches in that world, more powerful than the witches of any other world. A Supreme. Kenzie does not save you in life in that world, however; but through your death. So it is written.”

Duncan felt unable to speak; I think I knew that. I think I knew, when I had that dream on the beach, the dream where I was dying, and grandma told me to go to Hell. And Kenzie was there, her hair dark on her shoulders, she was that other version of herself, the Mallory self, and she held me, and I died.

“My nightmare,” Kenzie burst into a sob again, the wail in her voice making Duncan bury his face, his eyes closing, against her hair, making his heart clench until he felt as though he would suffocate in the agony of her sadness. “My nightmare. That man with your face, Duncan--that man was you in that place, that man was you, consumed, that was real, oh, no, oh no, no--”

Duncan couldn’t think, couldn’t speak; could only hold her, his heart pressed down with the depth of her sadness, determined to hold her as long as she needed him to. Even for that other me, the depth of her grace is staggering. The immensity of her love. I feel lost inside it; it’s the greatest thing I’ve ever felt. Whatever darkness is in me, no matter where I am, who I am, it’s nothing next to her light. I know that. Absolutely. I’d die a thousand times for you, Mackenzie Stone, High Princess of Heaven. A million times. I’ll die for eternity to be with you for just a moment. That, I promise you. I swear it. I will worship and love you endlessly, as I promised to, when we were Exalted--as we will be again one day. I know I will always recognize your soul.

“Sweet golden child of Her Grace,” Rosemary said, staring at Kenzie with violet, soothing warmth. “Do not despair--there is no need for it. You save him in every world. Your love is what saves him. Reach out with your heart into every hidden place. You know it’s true. There is no place your love cannot reach him. And death is not the end. In her Will, it is never really the end. And here--” Rosemary gestured out onto the lake, to the sky beyond. “Here, in this world, in this life, you’ve been infinitely blessed. In this world, you get to be together; truly together. And not only that. Not only have you found each other, basked in each other, found a haven hidden from the eyes of the world in which to feed each other in power and affection. In this world you have been given even more, for the Goddess does not take away in one world what she doesn’t bestow again in another. Here, you have worldly riches, too, is that not so?”

Yes.

“Fuck,” Duncan whispered. “That was our destiny all along, too, wasn’t it?”

Rosemary gazed at him, and her expression was omniscient in the stretch of this moment; it kindled his spirit up, thrilling his nerves, achingly beautiful against his soul. Yes. That was the plan all along. That not only would you heal each other infinitely, here; you would, together, heal this world, and that, too, would be your happiness.

Kenzie had begun to quiet against him; she turned her tear-stained face up to him, and her eyes glittered unbearably in the afternoon light: gold, russet forest, green like growing leaves.

“The High Destiny,” she whispered. Duncan brought his hand up, wiping under her eyes, pressing the dampness into his shirt, cradling her face.

“Yes, sweet golden honey.” Rosemary was grinning; her face was effervescent in its beauty. She reached for the golden pipe again from where Duncan had set it on the low table beside the lantern, raising it languidly to her chin. “Praise be to Her, in whose eyes all is made clear and wondrous, three-faced, sweet as blessed wine. Your High Destiny is to bring a long peace into this world. And when others in this world behold you together, that is what they see. Your divinity, your goodness, and their redemption.” Duncan continued to look down at Kenzie--she stared at him with a dawning happiness spreading over her face that made him clutch her cheek, dip his mouth to kiss her, uncaring that Rosemary watched--Kenzie, my Kenzie, oh my Kenzie--

Rosemary breathed in another long drag of the gold pipe. Then she continued to speak, her legs crossed with ease, her hand drifting against her many necklaces, thumb trailing at the obsidian, the raven skull.

“I know what’s coming, what’s at the door; by the time you return to the Capital City, Bill Shepherd will have been dead for a day. Yesterday, he signed his Will, at Annette Shepherd’s behest. Duncan: you are now the sole heir of Shepherd Unlimited and all its holdings. Bill Shepherd, as is his way, has over $15 billion dollars in overseas assets that he hasn’t been filing with his taxes. Those assets will be yours in a few hours’ time. With Shepherd Unlimited LLC and the tools at its disposal, it is your High Destiny, Duncan and Mackenzie, to heal this world.”

“Fuck,” Duncan whispered.

“Holy shit,” he felt Kenzie grip his shirt with her little tear-stained hands. “Duncan, oh my goddess. We knew. We felt it all along. We felt our destiny.”

“And Praise be to Her,” Rosemary said, and then she laughed; she laughed long and low, and her voice was like honey, and it seemed to fall into Duncan’s mind like a crashing, heady wine. Her laugh rang out onto the lake, stirring the ducks to flight; as they flapped up from the water, the sun dappled in their water-flecked wings, turning to patterns of gold.

-------

It was late now, the light growing low as it had the night before, gradually then all at once, and Duncan had conjured another fire in the copper pit. This one, if anything, was even brighter and more beautiful than the one before; it was almost transparent, burning wildly high and hot, kindled in the euphoria of his mood. Now that he knew the powers they had were real, not only real, but destined, he felt confident in the ability to strengthen them; felt confident in their reality. I’ve been blessed, and so I’ll use my blessings. I can see the shape of these powers now, their outline like a lingering vision after a bright burst of light. I was destined to have them, and so I’ll use them as wisely as I can.

They had all smoked so much of the weed through the rest of the afternoon he had begun to feel untethered from his body, lost in the softness of Kenzie’s touch, the sweet smell of the space under her ear and along her neck. Rosemary didn’t seem to mind, skillfully ignoring them as they kissed again and again, drifted their hands along each other lazily through the rest of the afternoon. Duncan felt split between his gratitude towards Rosemary and the intensity of his desire for Kenzie--he had been fighting off the urge to slide his hand up her bare leg under the dress for hours, and as he sat in one of the wicker chairs by the fire, watching Kenzie and Rosemary dance a few paces away on the lawn amid the fireflies, the strains of Redbone’s Witch-queen of New Orleans pumping through the outdoor speakers, he sent out drifts of his deep need towards her. She was spinning in the long rosy dress, her chin tilted up and the diamond moon flashing on her neck, his black cardigan falling off one of her shoulders--her hair was tossed by wind and sweat glinted at her temples, and all he could think of was how radiantly lovely she was; High Princess of Heaven, Goddess of the Golden Bower, Angel of the Hidden Sphere, my High Destiny, forevermore, everlong, no worship is ever enough. And now you’re going to marry me. And I know what kind of ring I’m going to give you. A moonstone. My moon, everlasting.

She’ll put a spell on you, she’ll put a spell on you

He tried to contemplate the wonder of everything that had happened in the past two days; of the past few weeks. It’s truly only been a few weeks? It felt like years, and also like no time at all, like hours. He tried to contemplate the immensity of time they’d loved each other, and the smallness of the time they’d been able to love each other in this present--felt too lost in it, had to move his thoughts away. He tried to conjure up the image of the Fates in his mind, knowing now that it was Her, aspects of Her, the spectrum of Her face. Too stoned, sorry. Just wanna fuck my baby. So fucking much. Forgive me, Goddess. He grinned to himself, into his hand. I know you do. I can feel that you forgive me.

Tho' she'll never return all the Cajuns knew, a witch-queen never dies

Kenzie and Rosemary were gripping each other’s arms now, whirling in a circle, both laughing uproariously. Kenzie tumbled to the ground, throwing her head back and laughing up into the sky, bleeding out into blue darkness. Rosemary clutched her belly and laughed up at the sky too.

“Oh Goddess, to be alive,” she crowed. Duncan looked up to her from his seat, grinning. Rosemary had told them the story that afternoon of how she had found the Goddess when she was young--had gone into a cave in the swamps of New Orleans as a young girl, finding a bower of strange golden flowers growing there, had had a vision of Her, as an old woman, wizened with the ages and also inconceivable, told her of her power to conjure and to incite light in others, kindle their dreams and hopes, their destinies. Another Thin Place, he thought, like that balcony, or our circle of oaks. They had made more of the chicken and other vegetables in the cooker, a charcuterie spread out on the deck table, and had been nibbling at it for a hours between the weed and glasses of wine--now the day was hazy and drifting away, and Duncan felt lost in the happiness of it; absolutely found in it. Rosemary tumbled herself into one of the wicker chairs across from him, her feet dipping up over one of the arms. She gazed into the fire, a serene expression in her eyes.

“Evening Star, you sure can make one hell of a fire,” she murmured, her eyes drifting closed. “It smells so sweet and feels so nice on my poor aching bones, thank you very much. The Goddess knows I put the work in since yesterday to find y’all, now she’s giving me a break, and Blessed Be.”

“Thank you, Rosemary. Thank you for everything. Thank you for coming all this way--for telling us everything. Who we are. What we’re meant to do.” Kenzie had heaved herself up from the ground and was skipping over to him, throwing herself into his lap and lifting her mouth up to kiss him as he spoke. He cradled her little body against him; her eyes glittered, her thoughts achingly sweet. To be held by you, baby, is the sweetest and most beautiful of anything. My Evening Star. My Hades who I plucked from darkness. You owe me so many kisses.

Oh I do, do I-- He dipped his mouth down onto hers again; he could feel Rosemary’s eyes on them, slitted, an adoration and pride in her aspect that he could feel as though it were visible. He knew she thought they were infinitely beautiful--the thought was a feeling of warm violet that emanated out from her; and I agree, if only because being loved and loving her so much has made me beautiful from within, he thought. I can feel the beauty in everything because of her.

“Rosemary,” and Kenzie turned her face away, looking over at the other woman’s beautiful cocoa skin, shimmering like soft copper in the firelight.

“Yes, golden honey,” Rosemary murmured, turning her face up a little, her eyes closed from tiredness, peaceful in the quiet of the crackling fire.

“What do the thin places mean?”

“Thin places?” Rosemary’s eyes opened a little, meeting her eyes.

“In the woods there’s a clearing. It’s surrounded by these huge black oak trees, and they’re all growing together, in a weird, tight circle. Inside it are so many wildflowers,” Kenzie laid her head on Duncan’s chest, under his chin, “and they’re growing in a spiral, like, I dunno, like they mean something, time or the universe, something like that. We were there yesterday, and…”

Kenzie blushed, trailing off.

“You fucked there.”

“Yeah. And it was strange--I mean, it felt like--Dunny, how would you describe it--”

“Like we were untethered from the earth for a little while,” Duncan said, his hand drifting against Kenzie’s thigh, under her breast, holding her against him, gazing into the fire. “Like we were in some kind of between place. Between this world and another one.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose the Thin Places, as you say, have many names. I call them The Veil, because they aren’t really places as much as doorways, gateways, the between of one place and another. The Goddess has tethered every universe together with threads--energy that passes from one place to another, acting as a bridge--and sometimes the threads wear thin; I suppose Thin Place is a well-suited name. As you are so close to your divinity still, these places are more obvious to you than to other people.”

“The night we met, we were on this balcony, with all these roses, and I think it was one of those places,” Kenzie was murmuring, eyes glittering on him, close to tears again. “It was thin--I could see him, Rosemary. I could see into his soul. I knew how beautiful he was inside. It was like a lamp shining out of a lighthouse. He said hi and he was looking at me like he knew me, like he hadn’t seen me in a long time and had missed me. And my heart just--stopped. I felt like he had set me on fire, wonderful fire, like this.” She looked at the fire Duncan had made--made with my mind, my senses, my will, for you. His heart twinged, reached out for her.

“The heart knows what nothing else can tell you,” Rosemary murmured, her voice growing soft again in her sleepiness. “It was only a matter of time before you found each other again.”

“Sometimes I think I see a golden thread between us,” Duncan said softly.

“The Goddess has tethered you this way. Since you are so close to her--because she loves you both so dearly--you can see the innerworkings of her magicks sometimes. They are not conceivable to human eyes. You’re feeling them. For all her works speak to the inner self, the hidden senses.”

“Rosemary,” Kenzie started again, and then Duncan heard the tears in her voice, cutting her words off. Her face turned into the crook of his arm--he felt her cheek shuddering there.

“Shh, Kenz, it’s okay, Kenzie,” he whispered into her. She nodded.

“Rosemary, thank you.”

But Rosemary didn’t reply--she was sleeping softly now, her chest rising and falling slowly, her hand dipped under her jaw. She was magnificently beautiful in the glossy sheen of the firelight, her dark skin illuminated, her sunset-colored scarf glowing, her obsidian and quartz stones shimmering, feet bare now, and grass-stained; she looks like a painting, Duncan thought, oh that Waterhouse had painted her, Rosemary Antigone Delacroix, who has given us so much joy in so little time. Thank you, Rosemary. Thank you. Now, we’ll let you sleep. I only hope I can give you something in return--and soon. You and everyone who has surrounded us, helped us, comforted us, shielded us.

“Princess Kenzie, let’s go upstairs,” he murmured into her ear. Kenzie’s eyes turned up to him, her mouth dipping open. Her hair fell down behind his arm, a sheet of gold. He felt wildly awake; acutely aware of the softness and the scent of her. He pressed his mouth against her ear. “I want you so much. Take a bath with me, angel. Please?”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, a laugh playing at her mouth. “Okay, but I wanna read stories to each other after we fuck. You have to promise we can read stories after.”

“We can read stories for as long as you want, Mrs. Shepherd.”

“What should we do, baby--about everything? We already know what’s going to happen. Rosemary told us. When we go back--”

“Shhh,” and he pressed his mouth, shivering, aching, against hers, intent to worship her, pulling her chin up insistently to reach her, his hands falling against the sweet softness of the dress over her breast. “Tonight, let’s just think about how divine we are, and how lucky we are, and how beautiful the night is, and how beautiful everything is, the stars, the lake, and you--” and she was nodding into him, climbing up to straddle him, the firelight licking its shadows against her hair, over her skin. “And you, baby,” she whispered. “My Evening Star. Goddess, I love that--”

“I’m gonna find you the most beautiful garden house on earth, Princess Kenzie,” he was whispering into her throat, his tongue licking out to the sweet saltiness of her sun-kissed sweat there, and he knew he meant it, knew he wouldn’t stop until he found it, “and together we’re gonna plant the most beautiful garden and so many flowers you can use them for a bed, and I’ll get you as many horses as you want, and I’ll read to you every night, kiss you a thousand times every day in our bed of a hundred of the softest blankets on earth, Kenzie, my golden goddess--”

“I want so many flowers for our wedding, baby,” she was murmuring against his mouth, the supple feeling of her skin driving unbearable waves of heat into his cock now. “I want a hundred dark red roses to hang over our bed between all the wildflowers, flowers in our hair, please, baby, please?”

“Fuck, baby, a thousand flowers, as many as your heart desires, I love you, anything you want, my flower of the universe, my Princess of the Garden of All Delights--fuck, baby, I wanna see it, I wanna see that garden in heaven, where we used to love each other, for eons, Rosemary said, eons--”

Kenzie was laughing against the tickle of his mouth as he groaned into her, standing and gripping her to him under her thighs, his hands finally (fuck, finally, no offense Rosemary) on her bare skin there under the long dress. Kenzie wrapped her arms around his neck and he carried her up to the deck, eagerly turning his chin up to her where her face hovered above him, needy for her kisses.

“I never wanna leave,” Kenzie whispered into him, and he shuddered, pulling her closer, so close the pattering of her heartbeat was flush against his chest, her hair falling against his cheeks. “I wanna run away into the woods with you, into our secret circle of oaks, baby, let’s just stay here and fuck in the field and in the trees and throw away our clothes and worship the Goddess under the starlight until the world ends--”

“But She has shit for us to do, angel, we gotta save the world--” and he was laughing against her as he stumbled with her near the stairs. Kenzie slipped out of his arms (how does she do that) and ran up the stairs away from him before he could grab her wrist--”we gotta save the world, Miss Stone--”

The weed was sweet inside him still, and he thought, The Fates are the Goddess and the Goddess is the Fates, and even if I have darkness in me, so does everything, so does everyone--I know I’ve chosen the light now, and that’s all that matters, I know it was my choice all along--I’ve found my sweet Kenzie, and nothing can fucking hurt me, nothing, nothing can fuck with us, baby--I can’t wait to kiss you with a thousand roses around us and the evening light and the sweet sound of music, slip your moonstone on your little finger and kiss your sweet hands with the tattoo of all my love--

He ran through the bedroom, seeing the little slip of her shoulder, the wave of her hair, the flick of the hem of her long linen dress disappearing through the bathroom door. Kenzie slammed it behind her and he heard the lock click into place. He fell against it, groaning, jiggling the handle to no avail.

“Baby, fuck, ughhh, lemme in, please.”

He could hear her giggling, hear the copper tub’s faucet turn on, its sweet low drift and the sound of her little movements, her tiny laughter kindling a needle of heat into his groin. My angel of heaven. Have mercy.

“I just realized something, Kenzie.”

She fell silent behind the door, as if pausing--for a little while he only heard the faucet running. The bedroom was bathed in low, golden light, and his eyes fell on Cupid’s flower crown in the painting, the tenderness with which he kissed Psyche’s cheek.

“I’ve loved you for thousands of years.”

There was another long pause. He pressed his head against the door, closed his eyes. I have, haven’t I. I really have, When I saw you on the balcony that night, I felt the immensity of time. I knew that it had always been you.

The door opened suddenly and he stumbled through it; Kenzie was throwing her arms around him, making him stumble further, against her this time (oh thank Goddess), and then she was pressing him harshly into the bathroom wall, her hands insistent, demanding. He was leaning down to her, trying to wrap his arms around her, but she pressed them down, her hand drifting to his jaw, clenching there.

“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you.”

“Yes.”

“You’d die for me.”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Would you assassinate someone for me?” She laughed at this, her words hovering between facetiousness and seriousness, and her smile melted at his heart, made him desperate for her.

“If I had to, yes.” Duncan’s answer was serious, and they both knew it; he stared at her, his eyes unwavering, and saw her lips fall from the smile, saw that she could see the ache of him, insatiable, unending, for her.

“Look at the bruises you left on me.”

Kenzie lifted the linen dress up over her head, edging out of his reach as he tried to grip her. He realized she was naked underneath it and heard the tiny reverberation of his moan, following after her. She turned, flipping her hair over her shoulder, and Duncan groaned to see the dark bruises he’d left on her asscheeks, the product of his own hands. He kneeled, aching regret pressing on him, and cupped her at the top of her thighs, drifting his mouth down to the bruises, whispering against her.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry, I love you so much--”

“I love them,” she whispered. “I love the marks you leave on me. I asked for them and I love them and I want more. I don’t care how long we’ve been together in the past, it still only feels like it’s been a few weeks now and I want more. The marks from your hands and your lips, your attention, your love--I want more, more, more--” Kenzie was leaning back into his hands now, against the wet, open dip of his mouth, her hair brushing along his head. She turned and his face hovered right over her cunt--Duncan dragged her against him, opening his lips further, cupping them into the lips of her sex, turning her hips under his hands and pressing her into the wall. Kenzie’s arms drifted above her, up the wall’s incline, hands reaching heavenward, her back arching, leaning into him; Duncan pulled her thigh up so her knee rested against his shoulder, and held his tongue to her shivering clit, eliciting a long, drifting moan from her mouth turned upward.

The scent of her was rich with summery sweat and the salty gathering of her arousal, and it made Duncan feel as though he were drifting out into some ether, unchained from the earth, as if they were back in the black oak circle, between worlds.

“Baby,” she was humming, “how are we gonna know what to do? To change the world? What are we supposed to do with the company? Like--how--unnnh--” her words bled out as he drifted his tongue back and forth between her clit and the opening of her cunt, urgent and concentrated. No more worrying tonight, Kenzie, just be here with me, let me worship you…

“Mmhmm, baby, uhhuh,” she whined, and he knew she’d heard him, felt the bluish drift of his comforting thought. I’ve missed tasting your sweetness here, angel, I wanna build an altar to your sweet cunt alone, its secret places, curves, hidden clefts, the rich singularity of its scent. I’m gonna eat you out every fucking day for the rest of our lives. He pulled his tongue back, pressing his lips around her clit, sucking carefully, strongly, looking up with languid patience to the shadow over her face as her head fell down, her hands drifting from where they had stretched along the wall to his cheeks, his forehead, the curves of his eyelids, through the sides of his hair, and Duncan had to close them now, for fear he would die inside her eyes--that his heart would simply stop with the glorious weight of her (you Kenzie you my universe and I turn around you, I am your moon spinning around your earth, and when we end we begin again, when we die, we are reborn to each other--).

“Fuck, Duncan,” and Kenzie was biting into her lip, eyes falling closed, her body smooth and hot and terribly soft under his long hands, the wetness at his mouth an insistent undoing, the telltale trembling beginning in her thighs, “I think I’m gonna come already, sorry, baby, I can’t, god, that feels so fucking good, you’re too beautiful, annhh--” and he was shaking his head, rebounding his tongue against her, hands clutching at the bruises along her ass, fingers digging against them so she gasped in the half-patina of pleasure and pain--come for me, come as soon as you want to, as much as you want, as constant, for I will worship you always and my devotion will not end, Mackenzie Stone, High Princess of Heaven, yours is the one true beauty, the gold that you hold in the center of your soul--then, with a pilling satisfaction that urged heat into his groin, he heard the high, lilting sound of her voice crying up in her ecstasy (“Dunny, fu-u-uck-k, my Pri-ince, Evening Star, my fucking baby, unnnnh--”), the sound of the water filling the copper tub crashing against her and drowning out her drawn whimpers, and he thought of Sirens, singing on rocks in the sea, mesmerizing to sailors, causing them to plunge to the depths with desire. My Kenzie, sing to me. Sing your pleasure out for my ears alone.

She quieted, her breath heaving, her legs shaking against him, her cunt twinging--he pressed another long, adoring lick between the lips, shivering with wetness from his mouth and her deep orgasm, then he stood, her hands drifting from his hair to his shoulders to his stomach, his height enveloping her, as it ever was. He brought his arms down around her and Kenzie began to work at his shirt, pushing his pants and briefs to the floor, his mouth, damp with her sex, tasting at hers with lazy need. He lowered his arms, reluctantly, letting his shirt drop to the floor, then swung them down around her shoulders and the back of her thighs, lifting her into his arms. Duncan carried her to the copper tub, the steaming water within almost having reached the rim--he lowered her into it and Kenzie sighed deeply, her eyes fluttering closed in an expression of deep, contented loveliness.

Duncan lifted away from her, turning off the faucet, balancing on the edge of it for a moment, naked; Kenzie’s hair had immediately begun to drift around her, and he thought again of Sirens in the sea, calling out to Odysseus.

“You look like a mermaid, Kenz,” he said, smiling down at her. She grinned, dipping her face under the water, blowing bubbles up to the surface, eyeing him coyly.

“Come, come to me, come to the sea and be drowned, wah-haha,” she laughed.

“By you, gladly.” Duncan stepped over the rim and settled down into the serenely hot water. The tub was quite large--larger than the claw-footed one in the penthouse, large enough that he could stretch his legs out entirely and crook them around her, drawing her into him, his cock, hardening, straining, brushing against the inside of her leg and stomach. She shivered and he moved his mouth down to her cheek, her jaw, pressing tiny kisses there.

“Remember when you put all those roses in the bathtub, baby,” Kenzie was whispering, lifting herself up to him, her nose nuzzling against his. The water felt almost unbearably warm now with her against him this way, and Duncan wanted to cry out against her hair, on her bare, flushed, damp skin. I fucking love you, my love is ever-hungry, ever-urgent, as if it wants to tear me into pieces so I can feed myself to you.

“How could I ever forget that,” he whispered. “You were so fucking beautiful that night. That dress, the half-moon around your neck. I think that’s the first time I knew--really knew--that you were divine.”

“I’m gonna ride you again like that now,” she murmured against his chin, her eyes glowing, and her little slender hand was grasping his cock, now terribly hard in her fingers, easing up and down its thickness with her hips under his fingers, her little tongue dipping out along his lower lip--Kenzie eased herself down onto him, a shuddering, high gasp falling out of her mouth into his, and he cried against her, the pitiful need in his voice ringing in his ears. She moved, slowly at first, then more pressingly, her hands coming up to dampen his hair with water that fell through it in a glistening trail.

“It feels like we woke up from another dream today,” she was whimpering into him, and Duncan was kissing her neck, his mouth tingling with her, lost in the tightness, the clenching, devouring space of her cunt around him, the water’s steam rising around them in droves. “Now we know, baby.”

“That you saved me--” he whined into the dip of her throat now, his voice shuddering as his orgasm inched closer, through his thighs and his groin. “You saved me, angel, you saved my soul from darkness here--that you save me, over and over--you are my miracle, fuck, Kenzie--”

“I am, aren’t I--” she laughed against him, then her laugh bled into a moan as she ground down onto him in the glorious heat of the water, her little hands drifting along his neck, through his curls, her head falling back, and his mouth was around her nipple, sucking with deep hunger, his heart already breaking for the moment he’d have to stop--then he felt himself, eyes blurring with heat and tears, his voice crying wordlessly to heaven (thank you Fates, who are Her), coming harshly up into the golden space of her, the depth of her, the absence of void--she was fullness, truth, reality, the essence of life, she was the beginning and end of all, the solace of his existence. My angel, my miracle, my savior, my Kenzie, for all time.

And for awhile after, they held each other in the blessed quiet and the wonderful heat of the water and the soothing feeling of one another, and he kissed the tiny tears from her eyes, and everything in all of that stretch of moments, small, brief, and somehow also infinite, was sublime.

-------

Kenzie was laying with her face towards the ceiling in the center of the golden bed, the delicate, hanging golden lamp there bowing down on her, kissing at the waves of her chestnut hair. She wore the little silken pink pyjamas and the silk black kimono, gifts from me, I want to shower you with gifts for the rest of our lives, my delight, my sweet love, and one of the downy pillows was propped under her head as she held D’aulaire’s Book of Greek Myths up to her face with her little hands. The other books were in a pile beside her on the silky spread; the ghost story books, Jane Eyre, The Golden Compass and the stargazing book from Duncan’s penthouse library. Duncan was propped up with a pillow on the headboard, facing her, wearing just a pair of black briefs, one of her tiny feet in his large hand; he rubbed it carefully, tenderly, fingers drifting back and forth along its graceful curve, over the rise of her little bones, eyes on her face as she read. The curtain was floating against the wall, and Duncan could smell the fire from the pit downstairs rising up. He wondered if he should go wake Rosemary so she could sleep in one of the guest rooms, but was loathe to move away from the bed, out of Kenzie’s warm sphere. In a little while, he thought. The night is warm and beautiful, besides, as beautiful as last night. It’s like we’re in our own little world here.

“I just love this picture so much,” Kenzie whispered, turning the book to him. The picture was the one of Persephone and Demeter rushing into each other’s arms in a golden field of flowers. “It really makes me think of me and Momby. She’s going to be so happy when we tell her. I keep imagining her face when you call her Momby,” and Kenzie’s grin clenched at his heart.

She turned the book back to herself, resting its edge on her belly, flipping through the pages. Duncan could hear the peepers out on the lake, the drift of the water obscured by them, the low crackle of the fire pit below. Kenzie stopped on a certain page, gazing at it intently, her little mouth pouting, eyes concentrated.

“What’s that page, baby,” Duncan murmured, switching to her other foot, kneading at her toes.

“Selene and Endymion,” she murmured.

“Read it to me?” he asked. I love your voice in the soft night. Singing, speaking, breathing sighs, the gasp of you when you come, the little crying sounds in your sleep.

Kenzie smiled, eyes whirling dark green at him, cleared her throat a little, and read in a clear, measured voice. Journalism major, he thought, brimming with happiness so full it was like a golden cup running over through his body.

“Selene, the moon, came out at night to light up the sky while her brother, Helios, was resting. Slowly she drove her milk-white horses across the sky, and her pale moonbeams fell gently on the sleeping earth where all was peace and quiet.”

Duncan tried to imagine what it must have been like to meet Kenzie for the first time--not on the balcony, he thought, but in that other place, the real first time, after I saw her on her throne, like that dream we had, the throne where she held the sceptre--the Hidden Sphere, the one Rosemary talked about. We met in the Garden, Rosemary said, the Garden of All Delights. Kenzie’s hair, white and shimmering, was full of galaxy-flowers. Her eyes were a golden universe. And her wings were like the vastness of heaven in an unbroken sunset.

“One night Selene’s soft light fell on Endymion, a young shepherd, who was sleeping beside his flock. She stopped to look at him. He was smiling in his sleep and was so young and handsome that she completely lost her heart to him,” and here Kenzie glanced up at Duncan, her face cast in a soft corona of light, her eyes held in the aureate bow of her lashes, and he felt her thought--that’s how I felt when I saw your smile, baby. “She drove through the night, but she could not get him out of her mind.”

Duncan was sliding down over the coverlet to her, his hands drifting up her thighs. Oh you did, did you. She smiled at him nervously, then her eyes fell back to the page and she read again.

“When her duties were over, she went to Zeus and asked him to grant Endymion eternal sleep so he would stay forever young and handsome...Zeus granted Selene’s wish and Endymion slept on and on, smiling in his sleep. He dreamed that he held the moon in his arms. But it was not a dream after all…”

Duncan was pulling her up to him, into his mouth, easily lifting her small weight against him, and the book fell from her fingers to the soft spread and her hair fell back, her eyes fluttering closed against him, the silken feeling of her all too much, and Duncan thought of her as the moon shining against him; as the goddess she once was, of what had felt like a dream, had seemed to be one in the nimbus of sleep, but hadn’t been, her, so wondrously, soul-shakingly real now, in his arms--

No, no. Not a dream after all.

[witchqueenofthemoon]

From a visual standpoint, this is 100% my Duncan (though my!Duncan probably wouldn’t wear leopard print like Cody, he’s really attached to his dark wardrobe), 100% my Kenzie. When y’all are reading BODY AND SOUL, think of them this way. Credit to @langdonscody for the original version of the Cody photo here.

[witchqueenofthemoon]

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

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shivered, then made her way back outside.

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

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

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

“Kenzie.”

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

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

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

“Yes. Kenzie. Yes.”

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

“I wanna try.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, baby. I feel it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean--I saw what you really are.”

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

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

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

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

“Kenzie,” he said again. “You’re…”

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

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

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

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

“I--I think--”

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

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

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

Kenzie felt tears gathering along the edges of her eyes.

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

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

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

Oh, goddess. Oh, Duncan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--------

Kenzie sat at a long table in a white room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was dreaming.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dunny, baby, wake up…”

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

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

“Making snow, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Kiss me.”

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

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

“Fuck, Kenzie, baby--”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck. My. Mouth.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, Duncan Malcolm Shepherd.”

“As I love you, Mackenzie Louise Shepherd.”

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

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

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

“Ready for anything, baby.”

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

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

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

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

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 31 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

Author’s Note: At this point I’m done with this fic besides the epilogue, which I’m going to write when I get back from this trip I go on starting tomorrow (Wednesday) through Sunday night; I’ll still try to get at least 32 up at some point over the next few days. A reminder that this is Kenzie’s dress in this part. Here’s the shirt Duncan’s wearing in the first part; this is the chevron shirt he’s wearing at Madeline’s later. Here’s Clair de Lune; had to put it in this story somewhere, it’s one of my favorite songs of all time (I want it played at my funeral, fun fact). Here is Chopin’s Nocturne. Not totally clear on what Frederick used to be for the Goddess in conjunction to his dream; but I know all seers (him, Rosemary) were her counselors in that heavenly place long ago. A reminder that I kiiiinda based the garden house property on this listing. Here’s the Medusa earrings Annette gives Madeline. Here’s the dress Annette is wearing at Madeline’s. This is Claire’s top at Madeline’s. A reminder that I based Kenzie’s ring on this one, but Kenzie’s has diamonds all around the moonstone. Duncan’s new driver Barry is based on B.D. Wong/Baldwin. GO YOUR OWN WAY does indeed cede into the achingly romantic SONGBIRD on the Fleetwood Mac album RUMOURS. I went with the natural cadence of the amount Duckenzie seemed to want me to write, as I have for the entirety of this fic; sometimes they give me lots of details, other times they give me the larger gist of things. I loved finally writing Madeline and Annette together; I always knew it would be when both their hearts have softened, I just didn’t know exactly when that was happening, but Duckenzie revealed things to me in time, as they always do. I’ll elaborate on this more at the end, but this fic has changed my life forever, and that is not hyperbole--I don’t know how quickly or easily I’ll finish the epilogue, because I’m going to be going through intense personal stuff very soon. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter, which is a pure delight, an oasis of sheer enjoyment. Editing it helped me escape from everything for a little while, hope it does that for you to if you need it. 

In the morning, when Duncan woke, Kenzie had been watching him from the edge of the bed with wide, concentrated eyes. She was wearing a black, short-sleeved flowing dress, with a dipping neck, a rippling hem that cascaded over her crooked leg, and bronzey buckles at her waist. She was eating granola with milk and raspberries in one of Adelaide’s silver dogberry bowls in her lap, her fingers curled around one of Adelaide’s silver spoons. Her strawberry-honey hair was hovering in a shaft of sunlight; his heart thumped  into his mouth to see that she was wearing the golden star-point headband in it, the one she’d worn so many nights ago, that first moment he saw on her a quiet rosy balcony. The black triple moon necklace was hanging in the white crook of her throat. High Princess, wherefore art thou mine.

“Spooky, baby,” he’d whispered, blinking at her. “What’cha looking at?”

“Sorry,” and she laughed a little, snorting down at the bowl. You just looked so lovely, my Endymion, drifted to him on a golden wisp of thought. She lifted another spoonful into her mouth, a raspberry in the center disappearing between her little lips, pink with moisture, the Cartier bracelet falling down her wrist. He stretched a hand towards her, full of need, letting a sleepy whine escape and fall against her. Kenzie slid down to him, her sweet smell crashing over him. He kissed her arm, the crook of her elbow, sighing in relief.

“I gotta go soon, baby,” she whispered. “I have to go talk to Candice about everything. Resigning. Starting my book. How we’re gonna buy the Post, now that the company is yours--but it’ll be hers to do whatever she wants with. I wanna give her full executive powers over it. It’s one of the ways we’re going to change things; with her help. I can feel it. Can you feel it? Like a current pulling us. It’s so strong now. When I woke up I felt like someone had dumped cold water on my face. Like I was really awake.”

Duncan felt a wave of her gold course against him; I feel it too. I see the shape of it. The shape of your knowing. And I believe in it, utterly. I trust you completely; I trust everything you feel; inside it is the clockwork, the rhythm of this world. I wonder how I ever overlooked it, High Princess. But now I see it. I see the hidden aspect of you. Your sweet, holy power. And your foresight to see what we need to do. I’m feeling that pull too.

“All that stuff we were saying to the reporters last night--that was being awake, wasn’t it?” He murmured, his voice heavy in sleep. Kenzie nodded.

“Yeah. It was Her...speaking through us, I guess you could say. Telling us and them what we need to do at the same time. Watch this, baby,” and Kenzie lifted a hand towards where his phone lay on the nightstand, and as his eyes glanced over to it, it zipped, as cleanly, quietly and neatly as a raindrop falling to earth, into her hand.

“Fuck,” he sighed. Art. The way she does it--uses it--it’s art. She is a work of art.

“I think I’ve got the hang of it. It’s about the telling. You tell the matter to move. Tell the air to pull it. You command it, with your will. Because you know you have...the right. You know you can do it, that the power was given to you for a purpose. That’s what it feels like.” She slid his phone into his hand, brushing against his fingers, her thoughts warm on his skin.

“That was so lovely, Kenz.” He lifted her little hand to his mouth; let his lips close over her fingertips, sucking gently. Your sweet little hands. Touch me.

“Unh, baby, stop that. Fuck,” and she sighed against him. He did not stop. He pulled her more insistently against him; let me taste you, flower of heaven.

Duncan Shepherd, we have shit to do. We have to save the world, remember? And don’t you have something important to pick up today?

Fuck, you’re right, Princess Kenzie. A moon, down from the sky, for you.

He kept his lips on her skin, lost in her softness, for another moment; drifted his fingers up the incline of her to the small space between her shoulders, marveling at her smallness, the delicate beauty of the shape of her, the curving wonder of her thighs, the dress pushed up. Last night he’d clutched her so close, his mouth against the dip of her throat, her head above his on the pillow--her arms so small, and yet so vast, so very much my home, the entirety of the universe therein. Every sunrise, every sunset, every ocean, every night of stars, every soft rain, every thing that has ever made me laugh or cry. All beauty. In her arms.

Kenzie leaned down, kissing him with a long, slow knowledge, her mouth sweet with almond, oat and fruit; Duncan saw a pale vision of drifting moons as she did, an echo of last night. So many moons; our story happening in so many ways, and yet so constantly. In so many worlds I have loved you. In so many worlds I love you now, beside this one, beside us, at this moment.

“Momby wants everyone to come over around 5,” Kenzie murmured, smiling. She pulled her hand away from his kisses, but he could see the green that had seeped into her gaze, the want there. “I’m so excited to see Claire, baby. So excited to tell her. To see her happy, too.” She hovered over him for a moment and Duncan leaned towards her from where he lay; turning his chin into her as she moved away, her loss a stab into the center of him. Don’t go, don’t go, sweet Princess. But she did; Kenzie drifted off the bed, her eyes dancing at him over her shoulder. Your happiness is the only thing I want in this world, Mackenzie Stone.

“I think I might start looking for the garden house today,” he said softly, eyes falling down her hair and the floating fabric of her dress, glancing to her silhouette in their Mirror. It shimmered; as is its way, he thought, a winking memory of our long past. How many times have we worshiped each other in front of it, the fibers of that strange sphere ingrained in its frame? How many times have I watched you in it this way, stunned by you?

“Send me everything, please?” Kenzie turned back to him, her eyes suddenly wet. “Anything you find. I want to see.”

Duncan sat up, pushing himself to the edge of the bed, ruffling his fingers through his hair, watching her, thoughtful. “I think I have a place in mind, actually--well, the idea of a place. But I want to make sure no one bought it yet before I show you. I can’t bear the thought of you loving it and not being able to have it. It was a place my grandmother took me once. An old place. Very old, and quiet, and secluded, and special. I think maybe it was one of those places, like the oak circle--” The Veil, he thought. That’s where we’ll make our home. That’s where we’ll settle into the sweetness of this life. In a place where our magick is strongest, brightest, and closest to Her. “--I mean, I think it was my destiny to go there, now that I know...about everything. About us. And about the in-between places.”

“I’m sure it was, Dunny,” she whispered in reply. She hovered there a few feet away--she dipped her head, looking down from his eyes, and the golden stars in her headband glinted, and he thought Star of Heaven, and heard her own thoughts, flowing against him: I love you too much, sometimes it almost hurts me to look at you, Evening Star.

Please look at me again, my sweet High Princess. I beg you. I’ll take your hurt away, give it to me. I’ll hold all of it for you if you’ll just look at me. He stared at her, hand trailing at his chin, along the prickle of there, contemplating the silken hair brushing her cheek, the fall of the dress against her, the bare rise of her legs, her delicate fingers holding the now-empty bowl, the low blush on her cheeks. Her eyes came up--he watched them skirt over the flowers above the headboard, still avoiding him. There were two bunches of roses now, one of peonies, one of the sacred wildflowers. I’ll get you so many more, baby, he thought, in agony to have her so close and yet out of reach. Enough to cover every wall in this penthouse. Enough to cover the floor and every space and every nook and every inch of this place. And your house--your garden house, your dream, my beloved--will be a shrine to your name alone. And there will be so many flowers there; we’ll make it the Garden of All Delights here on earth, the garden where your heart will always be safe. That place will belong to you, and I will be blessed to be held in it; held in your temple, at your flowery altar.

“Oh, Duncan,” she breathed, and the bowl fell out of her hands--it dropped, dully, on the carpet, and she was in his arms now, her cheek crushing against the bristle on him, her voice a lilting song in his ear. “This is what I’m going to write about, baby. About being loved so much--about being loved by you...”

“You’ve healed my soul, Kenzie--” his mouth shivered against her as she slid flush to him, straddling him, the fabric of her dress brushing into his naked crotch, the soothing weight of her breasts crushing into his chest, and she kissed him, open-mouthed, bleeding his words into intoxicated thought--saved me from the darkness. In that other world, I was lost to the void, and you saved me still. But here, in this place, in this halo of blessed light, you snatched me from the jaws of it before it could take me away from you, miraculously, and your gift is incalculable to me--your love so holy I could never worship you enough--

Her scent devoured him, and inside it, he melted into her; roses, vetiver, geranium. My Prince, I would do it a thousand times. I have. I will. Because I love you. And in the grace of this love, I am forever yours.

--------

Harris had arrived too soon--always too soon--with the entourage of escorts from the previous day. Duncan had watched Kenzie with badly-veiled concern as she stepped into her wedge heels--he’d hurriedly grasped the wrappings at her ankles, insistent to tie them--and she leaned down to kiss him, uncaring of their audience. Her smile and thoughts were calm, and he tried to share her peace of mind. You know better than I do.

Trust me, Duncan. Her eyes flashed with gold. Look for the secret place where we’ll build the garden house. It’s calling to us. I can feel it. I can’t see the shape of it, but you can. You’ll be the one to bring it to life. That’s your task--to will it into reality while we build this new world.

Yes, Kenzie. Yes. He felt the rightness in her words; the destined fiber of them. I can see the shape of it. You’re right. Like the outline of your hair in the sun; like your halo.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Mr. Shepherd, don’t worry so,” she whispered onto his bottom lip, and Duncan shut his eyes; sighed against her.

“I’ll have the moon for you when I see you again,” he replied. He could feel Harris’ eyes on them particularly; the other security were all looking away, seemed to be highly interested in literally anything besides the two of them, trained to be discreet above all else. But Harris’ face was bright with emotion, in spite of all his training; Duncan had glanced to him a moment go, noticed his face turned earthwards, a sincere smile of happiness playing at his mouth, his eyes floating up to their embrace, then away to try to hide his interest. Duncan thought of the reporter who had clutched Kenzie’s hand yesterday with tears in her eyes. Thank you for showing your love to all of us.

“Shall we go now, Miss Stone?” Harris seemed to know he needed to give them the cue to break apart, or it might never happen. Kenzie sighed against Duncan’s black, collared shirt for a long moment, fingers toying with one of the buttons. Duncan thought, wildly, of pulling her into the bedroom with him and slamming the door behind them, throwing her on their black bed in passionate abandon; fuck the world, he thought. I only want you.

But then she let go of him, and his heart ached for the moment she would return to his arms (wrapped against me, the rightness of you), and her little smile broke him into a thousand drifting pieces of blue and gray ash. Bring me your tribute when we meet again, beloved, her eyes spoke. You are exalted in my eyes. He shivered, stepping to the door behind her, the flowers for Candice now gathered in her little arms; he watched the fall of her hair, its sway as she walked ahead of the swarm of bodyguards now surrounding her, Harris directly behind her, his hand lifted protectively near her shoulder, hovering. The Young Royals, Duncan thought, and shivered again. Now, everyone sees her divinity, not just me. She’s the Queen of Roses in my heart--but she will always be the High Princess to all, and her power grows in this world with time. Rosemary called her a Supreme, whatever that means--The Supreme, golden beyond imagining. I think I sort of know what it means. Kenzie turned in the elevator, surrounded by black suits (gold in the darkness) and blew him an aching kiss (I count the hours until you return to me, Persephone), the moons at her neck shining in the warm lights, the flowers a bursting vision of color around her little face as the door slid shut, whisking her away.

It means she is the savior of humankind. And what did Rosemary call me? Her consort. She said if I bend myself to her, others will see and do the same. And so I am her adorer. That’s how I can repay what she has done for me; how I can thank her for saving me, for the light she’s given me. I’ll worship her all my days.

He thought again of the quiet, serene stretch of field Adelaide had taken him to as a child, her stories to him of exploring its long-dilapidated farmhouse as a little girl, playing among the wildflowers that grew inside, heedless to the danger of a fallen-down structure. There was such peace here, he remembered her saying as she held his hand, her elegant voice quiet in the cool dusk, a scarf wrapped around her slender chin, her eyes misty in the lavender-and-rose-tinted sunset. There still is. Duncan had been no more than a child himself when she took him there; they’d been having a day together, the way he used to with her, where they’d drive around rural Maryland to admire the scenery, away from the attentions of the city, and to buy fresh milk and butter and ice cream from her favorite dairy farm. Again he wished she could have met Kenzie; grandma, you would have loved her. You would have held her close to you and breathed in her scent and felt her gold and loved her so much. I wish you could be there on our wedding day--I wish you could somehow know that I’m going to have our house built on that special spot--that Thin Place--where you played as a little girl, among the flowers, reborn from the decay.

Duncan toyed with the Cartier bracelet on his wrist, his finger tracing the outline of the circles carved into it--he glanced across the kitchen to Kenzie’s plants at the window, their greenery scattered in sunlight. He moved to the dining room, going to the chest in the corner, rifling through its contents until he found a box of thin gold ribbons and another box of tiny, elegant white folding note cards with embossed gold Shepherd crests stamped on their surface, pulling one out. He went back to the island, his thoughts full of the sweet crook under Kenzie’s ear, the softness of her mouth, and tied the ribbons around the bunches of flowers that remained--one for Madeline, one for Claire, and one for the housekeepers who he knew would be arriving to do their quiet work in the penthouse in a few hours’ time. With a fountain pen he wrote in his neat, elegant handwriting on one of the notecards.

Dear Housekeepers,

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for the impeccable work you do. It means everything to us. Please know that your hard work in this space never goes unnoticed. These flowers are a special token of our affection; as for our gratitude, please accept the incentive I’ve enclosed. It will be the first of many, and for its lateness, I apologize deeply.

Our sincerest thanks to you-- Duncan and Mackenzie Shepherd.

Mackenzie Shepherd. He felt dizzy with the pleasure of the way it looked. My wife. My partner in this life. My beloved.

Duncan went to his Ferragamo wallet and pulled out four crisp $100 bills; two each for the duo of housekeepers he knew frequented the penthouse, tucking them into the notecard. He knew there would be time to check on salaries in the company later, but for now, his heart was so full, he needed to start somewhere. Annette had long-ago purchased the penthouse on a whim, so technically all of its employees were beholden to Shepherd Unlimited. Well, the entirety of Shepherd Unlimited’s staff is getting a serious raise, he thought. Bill Shepherd, your reign is at an end.

Duncan arranged the flowers neatly on the island with the notecard, gathering the others into his arms to put them in a vase in the sink for now until Madeline’s party later tonight; despite not having been in water all night, though, they still looked as fresh as if Kenzie had just picked them. Then he slid the Givenchy sunglasses by the front door over his eyes and called the Shepherd family’s private car service. I guess it’s finally time for us to get a second driver, he thought with some disappointment. Would that we had two Samuels. He’d always liked calling his own cars via pick-up services, but as he knew well, the world had changed for them. Whatever happened with those pictures while we were away is very potent. In a way, we truly are royalty now. The trade-off to the change in everything is we are now charged with immense responsibility and a consuming lack of anonymity. We have a responsibility that extends over everything. Our magic is a blessing, but it’s also a task.

As Duncan made his way downstairs, his thoughts drifted back toward Kenzie. Mackenzie Shepherd. He thought of the way her name had looked as he wrote it; wanted to write it again and again like a love-struck high schooler in a notebook. My wife. My beautiful wife. My golden-haired, amber-voiced wife, gentle as summer rain. I can’t fucking stand it. I feel like I’m on fire, melting into the center of the sun. She said she would marry me. Kenzie said she would fucking marry me. That angel I saw on the balcony among the roses, moonlight in her hair, eyes turned to heaven. Persephone, under whose feet grow endless blossoms. Coming down to where I dwelt in shadows and kissing blue flowers into my eyes.

As Duncan passed Anchaly at the front desk, he noticed the man had put the flowers Kenzie had given him in a silvery vase on his desktop. He was still reading The New Adam and Eve, and this time the title struck Duncan queerly. That’s us, isn’t it. The new world. Anchaly glanced up at him, but said nothing, giving him a little nod, an omniscient smile playing around his friendly face. The flowers were stunningly bright and noticeable in the man-made opulence of the foyer; their organic beauty was staggering.

Among the cold wealth of Hades, Duncan thought, Persephone’s flowers bloomed through cracks of dark gold. But now my heart is that of Dionysus; my desire for beauty and joy is endless in her arms. So I’ll throw stars into the sky for her, my Ariadne; I’ll bring the moon down to adorn her.

--------

It was several hours later; Duncan was in the backseat of a Mercedes, another car of security behind him (god, that’s a new feeling, he’d thought on the way--The Young Royals, me and my six bodyguards), and his hands were shaking. He had set the little black velvet Tiffany box on the seat next to him, overwhelmed by it for a moment, needing to look away; Debussy’s Clair de Lune was drifting from the stereo. Fitting, he thought. An ode to the moon. And so therein my heart lies. His finger drifted over the ring box’s smooth surface, biting his lip. How I long to see you. Minutes feel like hours away from you. Hours feel like days. He nervously brought the box back into his lap, lifting the little lid, staring down into his lap, breathing in through his nose (1, 2, 3), out through his mouth (1, 2, 3) in a long, shaking sigh.

The ring inside was more beautiful than he’d dared to dream; looking at it again now, it was the most flawlessly exquisite piece of jewelry he’d ever seen. And it came from my own thoughts--my thoughts of her. Highest of all Princesses. He’d described it to the jewelers in a fever that he barely remembered; his mouth seemed to know how to describe it without him being fully conscious of himself, and here it was, somehow.

It was a moonstone; iridescent and creamy, as round as the face of the moon itself, its swirling depth akin to a sweet liquid made still. Around the perfect round stone were eight perfectly round, minute diamonds, framing it in a delicate, glittering nimbus. The band was pure rose gold, intricate and elegantly thin. It belongs on her hand, always. It was made especially for her, guided by the hand of the Goddess. I can feel it. In that far-flung place of cosmic wonder, She was the one who guided my thoughts to this. This lovely thing that will always be the symbol of my love for her in this life.

A half hour ago, sitting on a low velvet couch in a private showroom at Tiffany & Co., his breath had been instantly snatched away by it; if I was going to only see the ring in my dreams, I would have dreamt this exactly. I would not have hoped it could have ever been real. But now--life is no longer confined to reality, is it. Now, life is extraordinary, brimming with magic, purpose, and love. Now my life has turned to fortune far beyond anything I had before. Mackenzie Stone, light of my soul. To give this to you--a pure token of my love, made in the image of my thoughts of you, the image of your soul to me. I’m beside myself. And I’m going to do it with the people we love the most. He heard the ragged quality of his own breath, felt the painful reverberations of his own heart, soft piano in his ears, the image of her hazel eyes piercing his thoughts. This is what it is to feel alive. To be crushed by the weight of something--someone--so beautiful. To be moved by it, by her, endlessly--every fiber of my body, every hidden place in my soul, shaken by hers, her thoughts, her loveliness, her spirit of soft gold. He tried to rehearse his own words to her in the heat of the moment soon to come, but his mind was overcome, awash in the image of blue butterflies bursting into the sky, snow tinged with golden firelight. You and I. Me and you. What are words when there are the colors of our souls in each other’s minds this way. I know you’ve accepted me, but I’ll still ask you every day. Because every day is more precious than all the wealth in every world, so long as it’s with you.

When Duncan had pulled his Black AmEx from his wallet to give it to the jeweler, two wilting red rose petals had fallen from the side-pocket onto his thigh. He’d slid them into his palm, staring down at them, lost for a moment; from the roses in her hair--that night of the full moon, magic heavy in the air, and every force that tried to rend us failing utterly in the light of the higher wonder that is our love. How could I ever have doubted any of it? The surety of Destiny. The deepness of Fate. Everything I’ve ever done has led me to now; has led me to the halo of her perfect love, to my purpose; to do good with my fortune and spread this light to others, to love her with every part of my being that grows continually under her grace. It never grows smaller, and that’s the wonder of it; the more I love her, the more I feel her love, the more love we have to give to everyone and everything else--a wave that gathers more water, time after time, and then becomes an ocean of light.

A text chimed from Duncan’s phone, and he pulled it out of his pocket; it was the Shepherd family’s long-standing real estate agent.

Hamilton Realty: The land is available. Apparently it’s remained unsold for several decades now, despite its prime location and its vast acreage (16 to be exact). Very unusual. No word about haunted activity, which is usually the culprit for stuff like that, just seems to be chance. Your lucky day. I can head over there today and take some photos. Beautiful day for it. It’s truly a lovely piece of land. You could really do something extraordinary with it.

Oh, I plan to, Duncan thought, typing back a short reply of thanks.

And it’s not chance, he knew. It’s our destiny to have it. The way it was our destiny to find each other. The way it’s our destiny to always find each other; in every hidden place. To see each other, despite every shadow, every obstacle, every thing, minute or vast, that would attempt to stop us. Because as it was long ago, it’s our decision now to love each other. And in that decision, we have carved our own Fate out of the fabric of time, woven by her three sets of hands, being woven still, written and yet unwritten, told and yet still untold, the story of us endless and immovable and yet happening again and again and changed each time. Michael, Rosemary called me, lost to darkness. Mallory is what she called Kenzie; saving me by killing me, so we could start over, so I’d be reborn, so I’d be redeemed.

His finger trailed over the smoothness of the moonstone, watching the diamonds dance in the sun as the car traveled back to the penthouse, where he knew the otherworldly flowers waited for Madeline and Claire. The sun and the moon. Always together. The way you’re always with me, Kenzie, even if you are away from me. As I love you, so you are the constancy in every thing. The way you hold me in the dark. The tiny comfort of your fingers, your lips. I can’t wait to read what you write. I can’t wait for you to share your heart with the world. It has staggered me every day since I first beheld it. And they will be staggered by it, too. They will see all the sincerity of your radiant light. They will all see what has changed this world. The grace in your beloved heart. You.

His phone chimed.

Kenzie: Oh my goddess, baby. You should have seen Candice’s face when she saw those flowers, she almost burst into tears. I felt like she knew immediately how special they are. And when I told her what we’re doing with the Post!!!! We both cried but they were mostly happy tears. She’s sad I’m leaving though. I am too. I want to write one last piece for them. About our plan for Shepherd Unlimited. Candice is going to have it printed on a full page. And they’re going to print your interview alongside it. Both of us together.

Duncan typed. That’s perfect, baby. I love you so fucking much. Whatever you write is going to be exactly the right thing, I know it. Can I give the ring to you with everyone else there at Madeline’s? Is that okay? If you don’t think it’s perfect we can fix it. I just want everyone to fucking see. I just want everyone to be there.

He went to add more, but Kenzie replied immediately. Yes. I know, Dunny. I do too. You don’t need to explain. I know exactly what you mean. Everyone would love to see you give it to me, I think. I love you too. My Evening Star.

He couldn’t help it; maybe it’s selfish to want to show everyone our love this much, but...something tells me it isn’t. The way people react to us, as if we’ve given them something too, just by their witness--I want everything leading up to our wedding to be like that. If it’s a gift for people to see our love, if we can give them love in that way too, then we’ll show it to them whenever we can.

A reminder came up on his phone with a whistle and he glanced down at it. Ariadne at Sotheby’s next week. Starting bid is $25 million. See about withdraw prior to auction. He went into his phone, finding a contact. Frederick Stapleton. The phone rang twice, then he heard the small breath of the older man, imagined him leaning on the spindly silver cane as he bent over the phone.

“Duncan Shepherd,” Frederick breathed. Something in his voice made Duncan smile; he drifted a finger over the moonstone on his thigh again. “I trust you’ve been well. Word of your fortune has reached even me, an avoidant of all things technological.”

“Frederick. I’m sure I don’t need to say this, but...life is so beautiful.”

“As you say, Mr. Shepherd. How is the Mirror?”

As if it’s alive. In a way, he’s right. It is. It’s part of us; the living thing inside it is the reflection of our love in it, always. That Sphere that was lost, its dazzling fragments ingrained in it, reflecting us, reflecting a place beyond our reach, but real--out there, beyond the stars, the place where She resides.

“Perfect.”

“Just so.” Duncan could hear the smile in the other man’s voice, the knowledge. “To retain it for you was my privilege.”

Oh, goddess, Duncan thought, and knew. You have truly been its retainer, haven’t you. That was Her Will. You have been its protector for a long time. And you know that. You, like Rosemary, are a seer. And you always have been.

“Thank you, Frederick. For keeping it safe for us.”

Frederick was silent on the other end, and Duncan felt acutely that his silence was full of emotion--it washed over him like a shining, silvery rain.

“It has been my honor, Evening Star.”

Oh. Duncan’s voice shook as he spoke again.

“And her? The High Princess. Did you know? Frederick, did you know who she was right away?”

“Not in so many words. But I felt all of it, I’ve felt your coming for a long time, though I didn’t know it--and last night, I dreamt of the world beyond this one, where your love for each other lived in a perfect tandem, in line with the woven fabric of time…” The older man’s warm voice trailed off. “There’s nothing more I can say, Mr. Shepherd. I’m moved beyond words today.”

“That’s okay, Frederick. I understand. I really do. I have one more favor to ask of you.”

“Anything.” My Flaming Sword. Frederick didn’t say this, but Duncan felt it from him nonetheless, over miles, through the phone’s smooth surface. We called you that, once. In that place beyond time. And your glory was astounding to us. Your bravery, goodness and beauty beyond all description. Duncan’s heart pounded heavily in his ears. You were our Prince. As she was, and will always be, the Highest of all Princesses.

“Waterhouse’s Ariadne is going up for auction at Sotheby’s next week. I want it. It’s a birthday gift for her--for Mackenzie. The price is irrelevant. I’d like to put down an offer before it goes up--$30 million. If they want more, I agree to it. Whatever it is. There is no object.”

“Very good, Mr. Shepherd. I’ll contact you again after I speak to Linus over there. I know he’ll be pleased to hear you’re interested. How is The Youth of Bacchus, by the way? It’s been too long since last I laid eyes on it. Acquiring it for you is still one of my greatest achievements.”

“As colossally lovely as ever. She adores it. The way she stares at it would break your heart, Frederick.”

“I can only imagine. It is singular in its majesty. But all arts pale in comparison, I think, to what you share together. The greatness of it is beyond me. I feel that acutely.”

“You’ll meet her soon. I’ll bring her to see you, Frederick. I want to show her the peacock, she’s going to love it so much. She is the loveliest being on earth. We’re getting married--” Duncan’s voice hitched with tears.

“As you are meant to, of course. What a beautiful wedding that will be.”

“Expect an invitation.”

“All the blessings of Her Grace be on you, Prince Exultant.”

Duncan lowered the phone from his ear, knowing Frederick had hung up. Soft Chopin was drifting from the speaker now; Nocturne, its cascading piano an achingly gentle knife, sliding into his heart. This is you, Kenzie. Your hair. Your eyes. The softness of your skin. The soft drift of your little clothes. The shiver of tears on your cheeks. In every meticulous work of art, you. In every flowering field, every facet of wild nature, you. He contemplated the shape of the wedding ring soon to rest around the finger on his left hand. Nocturne drifted in his mind as he imagined, almost saw, there, could just see the shape of the rose gold band that he would wear there forever, the one he knew, acutely, that he’d be buried in in this life, when he died. And Kenzie’s will have a ring of tiny diamonds, he knew. Like our bracelets, mine in gold, hers in diamonds and gold. I can see them. I can see the moonstone and her diamond wedding ring together, the flash of them on her little hand as she tucks her hair behind her ear, leaning over her writing desk in our garden house, leaning down to her flowerbeds with a watering can.

For a moment, in the low sunlight of the afternoon, he felt another vision wash over him; one of them laughing at a long table covered in candles and peonies and tiny green succulents (oh, Kenzie)--he couldn’t see himself, but felt that his fingers were clutched over his eyes as tears leaked from them in his mirth. I’m laughing at Madeline, he thought. Madeline said something fucking funny, as is her way, and everyone is beside themselves. In the vision he saw Kenzie’s face, her little mouth open and teeth shining out as she laughed, one hand in a little fist clutched against her cheek, the other tightly twined through his between the golden-armed chairs they sat in, under some shadowed awning, the light low and precious. He could see the rings on their fingers he’d imagined moments before; saw that his was the gold he’d seen, with an angular, elegant framing, and hers, a thin band of tiny diamonds alongside the moonstone ring he now held in his lap in the Mercedes. He couldn’t see the shape of her dress, somehow--only the outline of the crown in her hair, a cascading veil falling from it with the glinting, delicately embroidered shapes of the cosmos in gossamer white--tiny stars, crescent moons, sunbursts. The crown was made of golden leaves, pale pink peonies and burgundy blushing rose buds, and around them glinted tiny rose and clear quartz points, catching in a light beyond his eyes as she dipped her honey-colored head, her laughter infinitely lovely to him. Duncan knew the scene was real--not a dream, no, a vision of the future. The knowledge made him press his fingertips against his chin, trailing his index finger along the rise of his bottom lip, lost inside it; lost in its unfading charm. Duncan felt a nostalgia; a melding of present, future, and past, and knew, inside his confusion, that it was Her, the Goddess. The Fates, showing him how eternal They were, how this moment, that seemed to be ahead of him, was in fact now, and also behind him, and also beside him.

In Her wisdom, time is meaningless. She made it; she can unmake it. The moment we are together, any moment, every moment--for it is a moment, a blink, and also too long to comprehend, and neither--is a moment that never ends. Not really. And this moment, laughing together, laughing at Momby, the funniest person on earth, all the love inside it, cosmic in its depth, ageless and always; this moment is already here, and it lives in my heart forever.

-----

A few hours later, Duncan was stepping out of the Mercedes, clutching the bundles of wildflowers in his arms with gentle hands, in front of Madeline’s warm and inviting brick house. The heat was deep, having drifted from the afternoon into a hazy hint of new sunset; it clung to Duncan’s skin with immediacy. He had changed into jersey shorts and a short-sleeved button down with tiny chevrons printed on it, his Yves sunglasses pressed to his eyes, but the heat seeped into him nonetheless; he could feel it gathering under his hairline at the back of his neck, feel it on his upper lip, nestling between the fibers of the stubbly hair on his cheeks, kindling his nervousness. She already said yes, you idiot, he thought to himself. Oh god, what if the ring isn’t perfect. What if she hates it. And I’m showing it to her for the first time in front of everyone. Oh, fuck. What the fuck were you thinking.

He felt in his pocket for the ring box, the Cartier bracelet sliding down against the top of his palm, staring at Madeline’s warmly-lit house, hearing the faint sound of music from the deck in the backyard, the hint of laughter--Claire, he knew, then heard the very soft notes of Kenzie’s voice, replying to Claire’s laughter, her own words tinged with an unknown amusement. Mackenzie Louise Stone, please fucking marry me. It didn’t matter if he’d already seen a vision of their wedding. It didn’t matter how many times he felt in his heart that they had been together for a very long time, and that he’d loved her for eons beyond his own imagining. I’m still afraid to lose her. Because that’s the cycle of it, isn’t it? Someday we’ll die and have to start over. Someday we’ll have to find each other again. I see the shape of it. I see how it must be. But even contemplating that parting, however long or brief it is each time, how much I miss her, unknowing, unaware that it’s her, each time. Me in the circle alone that night, not knowing what any of it meant, but feeling her out there, and longing for her so deeply. It’s agony and ecstasy. That’s the way its been for hundreds, thousands of years. Maybe a lot longer. Rosemary said there are infinite universes. Who knows how long some of them have existed.

Whoa, Duncan. Time to have a margarita. That’s enough of that for one day.

He stepped, in comfortable black loafers, across the gravel drive towards the side of the house. He waved a little to his new driver as he did, indicating the man could come back later. His name was Barry, and he was Chinese-American, of an indeterminate age, with slender, boxy glasses and a friendly, serene smile.  Duncan thought he looked oddly familiar, but couldn’t place his face no matter how hard he tried to remember it. Barry nodded to him, giving a little wave in return, and slowly backed the Mercedes from the drive.

It’ll be strange not having Samuel as my driver as often anymore, Duncan thought, but it only makes sense for him to be Kenzie’s personal driver. He adores her and would do anything for her, and I want her to feel as safe and happy as possible as she transitions into a wider role for the organization. I know it’s hard for her to give up the Post. But I also know it’s her dream to write this book--and I know she’s the most important aspect of us being able to do anything we’re dreaming about with the company. Anything that makes this easier on her is something I’m more than willing to give up if need be.

Besides, I like Chopin and Debussy. Barry has good taste. I feel like being so close to Kenzie all the time is making me constantly see the wonderful things in other people; the things I maybe wouldn’t have payed attention to before. He felt it again; that washing nostalgia, of time falling in on itself, expanding, distorting into a whirlwind of the outlying thing beyond time, full of grace, far too beautiful and vast to conceive, and yet always around them, holding them in its woven threads. He saw the thread again--gold tinged with blue--that tethered him to her, dragged him, pliant, into her arms. He heard another burst of laughter as the music became more distinct (blackbird singing in the dead of night...take these broken wings and learn to fly...all your life you were only waiting for this moment to arrive); its earnestness was unmistakably Kenzie’s, her snorting yelp rising over the humid air to push a shiver of affection down his spine. As he turned the corner with the flowers he could see the outline of her golden hair bouncing as she ran across the yard on bare feet, away from Claire who was chasing after her, in cut-off denim shorts and a wrapping peach blouse covered in soft pink flowers, and a round red water balloon poised in a raised fist. Duncan could see that Claire’s blonde shag and her cheek were damp, rivulets of water falling down her neck. Uh oh, payback time.

Kenzie turned, laughing, her mouth poised up to the sky; for a moment she glanced across to Claire, who advanced on her, and then Kenzie seemed to sense him, to see him from the spot where he stood very still, gazing at her with his hands full of flowers. Her head turned, the chestnut silk of her hair whipping along her shoulder, and she let out a little scream of happiness towards him that made his nerves sing.

“Dunny!” She called out, and then she was racing towards him, her little teeth peeking from her slender mouth, her eyes bright, cheeks flushed. She fell against him softly, careful not to crush the flowers--he clutched at her arms, tucking his mouth against hers, awash in the sweet scent of her sweat and the sunlight on her skin and the rose of her.

“Hi baby,” he whispered, and she hopped back on her toes, eyes on him, full of jade and tiny golden droplets, still gripping his fingers. “I missed you today.”

“Don’t let Claire get me!” she replied, laughing again, slipping around him as Claire came up to him, panting, at a slow jog. Duncan held one of the bundles in his arms out to Claire, and her face changed from her expression of frustrated amusement to one of wonderment.

“Oh my god,” she said, reaching out insistently, almost involuntarily. “Holy shit, these are so gorgeous. Are these from that circle you told me about, Kenz? The one with the flowers growing in spirals?”

“Yes, Clairebear, yes. Loooook at them,” Kenzie breathed, and her little arms came around Duncan’s waist, her face burying itself in his shirt. He leaned his mouth down to her temple, pressing tiny kisses there, loving the scent of her sweat there, the saltiness of it on his mouth. “Aren’t they the most beautiful flowers you’ve ever seen? And look, they haven’t wilted at all.”

“They really haven’t, wow,” and Claire leaned her face down into the bouquet Duncan had handed her. Her bouquet had a ring of goldenrods, looking as fresh as if Kenzie had just picked them, with what seemed like a hundred of the alyssums in purple and pink in the middle, and three huge magenta-colored fuschias in the center. Duncan watched Kenzie’s sweet little face soften towards her best friend, felt the drift of her complete happiness. My Clairebear.

Did you tell her yet? He thought down to her.

No, not yet. I was waiting for you. And her expression of soft sincerity moved to him; her eyes were so wide and had such depth, he could barely stand to look into them. Princess Kenzie. I have such a tribute for you. Such a sweet delight for your blessed eyes. I can’t wait to give it to you. Her gaze flickered; the gold seemed to seep into them, and she bit her lip with a smile.

Give me my present, Prince Duncan. Give me my present, baby.

Soon, baby, soon.

“Duncan--” and Claire’s voice dragged them out of their repose. “--you really need to assign Kenzie her own PR team. Or help her choose her own. Or something. I’m getting calls every day from people trying to interview me about her. It’s insane. DUNCAN, MAKE IT STOP.” She was laughing, but the last part came out as a strangled plea.

“Claire, I promise, now that I’m in charge of Shepherd Unlimited, Kenzie will have the most flawless PR team on the east coast. I’m sorry anyone’s been bothering you--I’ll make sure that stops.”

Claire gave him a look of mock relief. “Well, thank you, Mr. Shepherd. I admit, I am selfishly motivated. I want my phone to stop ringing, it gives me fucking anxiety.”

“Dunny--you know who I want to ask?” Kenzie tugged on his elbow and looked down at her. Stay right there, baby. I love you so close, tucked against me. “That girl from Vanity Fair. River Tsukamoto. I loved her. I wonder if she’d leave the magazine if we offered her a pay raise.”

“Baby, if you want her, we’ll get her. We’ll make her an offer she can’t pass up.”

Duncan glanced up to the deck as he heard the door slide open, turning away from her, intent to tease her for just a little longer; Madeline had just come out with a tray of icy tumblers of margarita in her hands, each garnished with a lime wedge and line of salt around the rim. She wore red-rimmed glasses today and a tee shirt that said I LIKE BIG BOOKS AND I CANNOT LIE, a long black spandex skirt falling to her ankles, sparkly, colorful bracelets on her wrist--Erik followed behind her in a feather boa in iridescent cobalt blue, and a blazer covered in bronzey sequins (Duncan noticed he was not wearing a shirt underneath), a bowl of tortilla chips in one hand, a huge mixing bowl of guacamole in the other. Harris shyly followed at the rear, holding the massive tray of hard and soft-shelled tortillas. Duncan noticed a vast spread of taco toppings of all varieties on a long fold-out table they’d pulled onto the deck; shredded cheeses and lettuce, shrimp, shredded chicken, crumbled beef, tofu, diced tomatoes, pickled jalapenos and radishes, roasted corn, Mexican-style rice, a huge bowl of spicy-looking salsa and at least five different kinds of hot sauce. Duncan’s stomach rumbled and Kenzie glanced up at him, grinning.

“Oy, you three!” Madeline spotted them, cocking her head up to them, then down at the margaritas. “Come make this tray lighter, Momby’s orders.” Kenzie broke away from him (come back, baby) and he followed after her, admiring the fall of her hair again, imagining the peony and rose crown in it (gold leaves, tiny crystals). Claire was already back on the deck, shyly coming up to Harris (who, Duncan noted, was wearing a tropical shirt covered in palm trees) and going up on her toes to kiss his cheek--the sincere smile that crossed Harris’ face was enough to melt the heart of anyone who witnessed it. Besotted, Duncan thought. That’s a mood, Harris. There is so much beauty in everything, and to see it so clearly is a gift I can’t fathom the weight of.

“This man,” Madeline cocked her head at Harris and Claire as Kenzie reached her, grasping two of the margaritas in her little hands, “is such a dream. He walked right out of 1940’s pre-code Hollywood if you ask me.”

“I agree,” Claire whispered, and Harris looked away. Is Harris blushing? Duncan grinned down at Kenzie, who was at the crook of his elbow now, holding a margarita up to him. He dipped down to kiss her, achingly slow, and she laughed a little into him, the chime of it clenching at his heart. He sure is. I love them so much together. Dunny, Claire is so happy. I love her so much. To see her so happy like that is so wonderful, I can’t stand it. She looks so beautiful.

It was all Duncan could do to nod to her, his hand in her hair, then he moved gently away from her to where Madeline was placing the tray on the deck table. He gently reached out a hand and touched Madeline’s turned shoulder--Madeline looked up at him, and then she smiled, a deep smile of aching warmth that sent a dizziness through his temples, threatened his eyes instantly with tears. She pulled him against her; Duncan’s was immediately enveloped by her linen, wine-rich scent.

“Still waiting on that mother of yours,” she murmured against him. “I heard you talked with her today. Good boy.”

Duncan clenched his arms around her a little, lost in the intensity of his emotions. “Hey, Momby.” He closed his eyes, fighting off the instant urge to sob. Hey, Momby.

“Oh, honey,” Madeline’s hand came up to his hair, stroking for a short moment before he stepped back from her. “You should be proud of yourself. I’m fucking proud of you. And you should’ve heard how proud my little Kenzie Lou is. I’m proud as fuck of both of you. You’ve weathered this insane storm like it was nothing.”

“I’m--I just--” Duncan’s breath hitched. Kenzie ducked under his arm, her cheek pressing against his chest, her arms coming around his waist. Shhhh, Dunny, baby. Golden wave after golden wave. His voice became a whisper in his own ears.

“I’m very fortunate.”

“Yep.” Madeline laughed a little, two fingers coming up to dip against his cheek, pinching it delicately. “Yes, Duncan Shepherd, my soon to be son-in-law. You are. Now go forth and be grateful.”

The sound of a car turning onto the gravel out front pulled his attention away from Madeline. There she is. Annette. My mother. And she really is my mother, isn’t she? She’s always been my mother. She always will be. Blood doesn’t matter here; I don’t think it really matters at all. I can feel that she’s my mother. Kenzie looked at him, knowingly, dipping out of his arm and leading him around the house, their drinks momentarily forgotten. Duncan knew what was in her mind; he could see it.

Let’s go welcome your mother into the new world.

At Madeline’s front drive he could see Annette slowly exiting her Mercedes, gripping Becket’s large hand for balance. The sun was setting behind her, and for a moment her dark hair looked like it was surrounded by a ring of fire. She wore dark sunglasses despite the lowering evening light, and a long white dress that fell to her calves covered in tiny flower bursts that immediately reminded him of the alyssum they had given her yesterday; Duncan knew, too, that that’s what Annette had been thinking of when she decided to wear it. She was thinking of us. She was thinking of me, and how much she loves me. And she was thinking of Kenzie too; how she’s always wanted a daughter, and can’t believe she didn’t see before how beautiful Kenzie is, and mom, oh, mom. He could feel her, like an echo that reverberated against him, feel the thoughts she’d tucked away today, hidden in the depth of her dark brown eyes as she slid her sunglasses off, staring at him with a shy, apprehensive expression.

Kenzie ran ahead of him, her little body crushing into Annette’s. The innocence of her embrace stopped Duncan’s heart. Kenzie, Queen of Roses, angel of heaven. He watched his mother’s face crumple with emotion; he hovered a yard away from them, watching as Kenzie pulled away from her, saying something softly to her. Annette nodded, her eyes glistening, her hand coming against Kenzie’s chestnut-honey hair. The vision of their faces so close together this way, Annette’s full of a peacefulness he could have never imagined, was dreamlike in its perfect splendor.

He went up to them now, the moment dissolving. “Hey mom,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Guess I can’t back out now,” she laughed a little, sniffing quietly. “There aren’t any sharp objects around Madeline, are there?”

“Just her tongue,” Kenzie grinned, and Annette laughed again. “Ah, yes. Sharpest weapon of all. I expect an earful.” Clearly they hadn’t spoken at the Gala--that was such a strange night for everyone, Duncan knew.

“Madeline is the one who invited you, mom. She wants you here.”

Madeline was coming around the side of the house, her lips pursed in a look of apprehension; but no malice. And she was curious, that was obvious--it had been years since Annette and Madeline had spoken to each other in person, let alone kindly. Kenzie stepped back as Madeline approached. Annette came forward a little, her face uncharacteristically nervous, and Duncan noticed she had a small box in her hands.

“Madeline, I--”

“Hug me, you ragged old hag.” Madeline pulled her into a crushing embrace; Annette let out a little strangled sound of astonishment, then a barking laugh.

“Jesus, Madeline, you’re suffocating me--”

“Oh, shut up. You’ve made it through worse than me. I’m sorry, Annie. I’m sorry about Bill.”

They broke apart. There were tears in Annette’s eyes again, but she was smiling. My mother has such a beautiful smile, Duncan thought.

Annette held the box out to Madeline in the sunset; “Bygones, and all that,” she murmured. Kenzie was leaning over the box curiously, her honey hair falling over her shoulder to dangle in the air (my Kenzie Lou) as Madeline opened it--inside the box were a pair of gold Versace Medusa head earrings.

“I think I see, now, that Medusa was unfairly maligned,” Annette whispered.

“Annie, they’re lovely. Not sure if they’re quite my style, but I’ll wear them just to piss off the conservative news pundits, that’s for sure. Thank you. Come have a margarita.”

“Can I see the house? I’d--I’d like to.” Annette seemed to want to talk to Madeline alone, Duncan realized--and Madeline softened, nodded, reached out her hand to link her arm around the bottom of Annette’s elbow.

“We won’t be long, my moon babies,” Madeline said over her shoulder to Duncan and Kenzie; then she pulled Annette towards the house.

“Fuck, Dunny,” Kenzie whispered up to him, intense happiness in her face. “I love them together so much. Fuck, I’m so happy. Look how beautiful they are.” Duncan looked to the retreating backs of their mothers, the sunset showering them in a pattern of orange and deepening sunflower-yellow. Madeline was saying something low to Annette and his mother threw her head back laughing, her mouth opening and chin raising in mirth. Mom. You’re so lovely. To see you happy this way is beyond words.

“Come on, baby, I’m starving,” Kenzie was pulling on his arm now, her fingers sliding down to his palm suggestively; she leaned away from him and he caught her under her elbows, pulling her back into him until she was flush against his torso.

“I missed you today, Princess Kenzie,” he whispered into the space between her lips, and Kenzie laughed; the sound made him shiver, made his ears ring, his head dizzy. He could feel the soft weight of the ring box in his pocket, its presence there like a tiny fire. Eat first, then the ring. When everyone is there.

“And I missed you, Prince Duncan.” She pushed up on her toes; Duncan lifted her into his mouth, feeling a chill of sensation flow through him despite the heat at the sweet taste of her; like the grapes of Dionysus in some paradise, or the ambrosia of Olympus. Hers is the sweetest of all tastes. His hands clutched her; one tangled inside her hair (I’ll never let go never let go never), cradling the back of her head, the other tight around her hips. Kenzie reclined back from him for a moment, still lifted into his arms, eyes dancing; he leaned to her desperately, starved.

“I love you, I love you, I love you--” he lost himself in the cadence of his own speech; his entreaties to her bled together, a wordless song. “I have something for you, and it’s so divine--almost as divine as you are--”

“Give it to me, Dunny,” she pressed her forehead against his, grinning. “Give me my present.”

“I want everyone to be there--”

“Oh, fuck, baby.”  Kenzie slipped down from his grip, staring up at him now, her face having drifted from radiant excitement to shy wonder. “I know what it is.”

“Kenzie.”

“Duncan.”

“Food first, baby.”

“Did you--did you find out if the place is still there? The one you saw with Adelaide so long ago.”

“It is,” he breathed, nuzzling his nose against her again, loving the scent of vetiver and roses at her temple. “Baby, it is. It’s been sitting there, untouched, waiting for us for decades. I feel sure of it, it’s not a coincidence--it’s Fated, it’s Her. They’re going to send me photos of it soon. I don’t know what it looks like now, if it’s any different, or if you’ll be able to tell from the way the pictures look, but--I have the most wonderful feeling. Baby--I’m going to have the most beautiful house built there for you, Kenzie. I’m going to have your dream house built there--your house, for you and you alone, and your garden, and your own greenhouse, and your horses--Kenz, it’s 16 acres, they’ll have so much room, we can ride them together, we can plant fruit trees--”

Kenzie abruptly burst into tears. Her face crumpled, lips thinning in a paltry effort to stop herself, her eyes squinting up and a tiny wail coming from her; Duncan crushed her into him and she buried her face against his shirt, immediately soaking it with a cascade of tears; her fingers gripped him tightly, bunching the fibers of the chevron-covered fabric as if he were the only thing anchoring her in a storm.

“Listen to me,” he whispered into her ear, swirling blue into her. Listen to me. Cry as much as you want, Kenzie baby. Cry as much as you need to. You can always cry against me this way--whenever you need to cry, I’ll hold you. I’ll hold you so close, in this life, and the next one, and the life after that. Listen to me. I love you. I love you, my moonbeam, my angel, my beloved, exalted love. I promised you I’d give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I promised you before I knew who you were--and even now, now that we know, it doesn’t really matter, does it? I’d still have given you anything; everything. Even if Rosemary hadn’t told us, we’d know anyway, deep down. I knew from the first moment I saw you. You, High Princess, will have whatever your heart desires. You’ve blessed this world with your radiance, and blessed me forever with your love, and so you will have anything you ever wanted. And we’re going to bring your sacred house to life.

He could feel her thoughts in return, shuddering: I’m glad Momby and Annette went to the house. I want to cry alone with you. I’m so happy, but I just want to cry, Dunny, just for a little while.

I know, Kenzie. Duncan felt the tears on his own cheeks; and was unafraid of them. I know, baby. Me too. He felt his tears drifting down into her golden hair, knew she knew now, in her golden thoughts, that he was crying too, her little arms tightening around him. And he thought, when your dreams come true, what can you do but cry?

-----

Everyone was gathered on Madeline’s long deck; the fireflies had come out, the fairy lights glowing. The tacos were long-consumed, the margaritas having eventually ceded into shots of tequila. The realtor had sent Duncan dozens of pictures of the acreage; it was huge, with an overgrown orchard of crabapple trees, several vast fields, an old farmhouse and dilapidated barn, and a wild energy that Duncan remembered acutely from that day so long ago with Adelaide; one that Kenzie could clearly sense from the photos, her hands shaking as she held Duncan’s large black iPhone, her finger sliding through them. She’s Here, in this place, Kenzie had thought to him, and he nodded. It’s one of those places, as we suspected, and it’s strong, like the black oak circle. The Veil. This is where we’ll build your temple, High Princess. This is where we’ll get away from the world when we need to, and where I’ll worship you for the rest of our lives.

Duncan couldn’t believe it; Annette and Madeline were both drunk, laughing with each other uproariously. Annette had been telling a story he’d never heard about milking free drinks from a very well-known politician when she was still in grad school, then quickly ghosting the date when he went to the bathroom, but not before taking the thousand-dollar caviar tapas she’d put on his tab and bundling it into a napkin in her purse. Duncan watched his mother with awe as she tossed back another shot of tequila nonchalantly, slipping a lime between her elegant lips. “Best caviar I’ve ever had, sweet with the taste of escape.”

“Annette, honestly, thank you for telling me this story,” Madeline was crying with laughter, and Kenzie was looking between him and their mothers with an iridescent glee in her eyes, reflecting more gold than ever in the fairy lights, her hair dazzlingly flipping, back and forth. “I prefer the Annette who fucks the bourgeoisie with their own AmEx.”

Kenzie had poured him another shot of the tequila alongside one for her, and he glanced around the deck table, at every face gathered with them; Erik was sitting in a deck chair across from Annette and Madeline, watching them with a bemused drunkenness, his fifth margarita held languidly between thumb and index finger, a silvery paper fan drifting in his other hand in the humid night. Claire and Harris were sitting close together on the long deck couch in the south corner beside the steps that led down to the yard; Claire was whispering something into Harris’ ear with her leg dipping over his knee, and his wide, friendly grin was breaking forth. They are lovely together, Duncan thought. They are meant to be together, too, at least in this time and place. I can see that very clearly. It’s like a map of them that’s all spread out in front of us; I think Kenzie can see it too. Us coming together brought them together too. As it was meant to be.

Lindsey Buckingham’s disgruntled wail bled out of Go Your Own Way on Madeline’s little stereo, fading--and Christine McVie’s gentle piano drifted out into the night as Kenzie brought his eyes back to her, clinking her shot-glass against his. For you there’ll be no more cryin’, for you, the sun will be shining…

He drank the shot down, wincing a little--it was his fourth tequila of the night, and it had done its job; he felt wildly bold now, ready to shout out his love for her into the night, to whirl her around in his arms until the two of them dizzily sank into the grass. I wish we were still in that starry field alone, laying against each other, dreaming of blue butterflies and golden-tinted snow. I love everyone, but I always want to be alone with you. He watched Kenzie for a moment as she made a face over her shot, sticking her little tongue out, rubbing a lime wedge along it in a cute tick that squeezed his chest. Nobody uses a lime after a tequila shot like that...except my Kenzie. She noticed him looking at her and kept her tongue out, wiggling it towards him pointedly now. What are you staring at, Duncan Shepherd.

My wife.

Duncan stood up, the night a balm to his buzzing skin; then, he knelt down in front of Kenzie, sliding the ring box out of his pocket in the soft, low light. Kenzie’s cheeks were flushed with the tequila--her eyes were glistening green-forest-gold, her hair falling around her shoulders in luxurious waves with sweat shining at her temples, the triple moons at her throat, the Cartier diamonds on her wrist. Her feet were bare and dirty with mud and grass; the black dress had hitched up around her thighs, exposing the whiteness of her smooth skin, and lime juice was shining on her bottom lip. Her tiny mouth trembled with a smile that made him swallow back a nervousness that he couldn’t place; I know you said yes already, baby, but you make me so flustered, you’re too fucking beautiful. I can’t fathom how you’re mine. I still just can’t comprehend it. You’re so moving. I’m shaken by you endlessly.

And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before...

Erik was the only one who noticed, for a moment--Duncan felt his eyes, framed by fake eyelashes (these with blue rhinestones), going wide, knowing. Then Claire screamed; everyone jumped, balking towards her.

“Holy fuck, Duncan!” Claire said, on her feet, hands pressed to her cheeks--Harris was staring up a her with a shocked expression--and then, Claire burst abruptly into tears.

“Clairebear, do not fucking cry!” Kenzie whined at her best friend across the deck. “I already cried today and you’re gonna make me fucking cry again. Or let him at least give it to me first. Clairebear. I love you.”

“Kenzie,” Claire sobbed into her fingers. “I love you both so much.” She sat back down beside Harris at this, peering through her teary fingers at them, hands drifting down to her mouth to watch. Harris tucked a comforting hand around her shoulder, smiling at her shyly.

Duncan watched this exchange, shellshocked, then realized the only sounds now were Songbird and the soft sound of Claire sniffling; Annette and Madeline were watching him quietly, their expressions serene, approving, and deep with emotion. Duncan noted, tears beginning to gather behind his eyes again, that Madeline had reached out to Annette’s hand and grasped it affectionately. Who would have ever imagined.

Duncan turned back to Kenzie. She was looking back at him now; she reached for his hand and her fingers were so warm and immediately comforting, so right, his eyes closed inside the feeling of them for a long moment.

“Some of the people here knew this already. Some of them didn’t--Claire,” he said, glancing to her, “We wanted it to be a surprise for you. We love you too. We love you all, so much. Thank you for everything you’ve ever done for us.” He looked around at their mothers; at Erik, whose rouged cheeks were now streaked with twin tears.

“Kenzie,” he whispered, then, and he saw her halo again; saw it glittering around the nimbus of her golden hair in the night, saw fireflies, emboldened by her aura, lighting softly in the air around her. “Mackenzie Stone. I love you more than anything in heaven or on earth. I love you with my body, my spirit, my whole soul. Please marry me.”

He opened the ring box toward her--Kenzie’s breath hitched as the moonstone caught the fairy lights, its cool, serene surface an immediate, exquisite, otherworldly thing. As fervid, as perfect an object for her as could be conceived; a devotion to her unspeakable loveliness, her beauty that I can only seem to describe as a color. Gold, gold, gold. The moon amid all that gold, cocooned in her heavenly sky. My Kenzie forevermore. The diamonds framing the stone glittered as his hand shook around the case it was tucked into; Kenzie’s face was awash in tears again, despite her plea to Claire.

“You know I will. Put it on me, Dunny, please,” she said quietly, holding out her elegant little hand. “I’ll never take it off. Never.”

Duncan took the ring from the little velvet box, feeling everyone’s intent eyes on them. He slid it gently up onto the ring finger of her left hand; Kenzie dipped her finger down and the stones caught the light again, dazzling him. Her thoughts were a song sweeter than any he’d ever heard before; the sweetness of her mind a prayer that extended all around them, spinning its shining threads into intricate geometries that he could barely conceive.

Duncan. Sword of the Evening Star. My Soulmate, Exalted for all time. It’s perfect. It takes my breath away, my love.

“Earth to Duckenzie,” Madeline crowed, her hand cupped around her mouth from across the table. “Some of us can’t read thoughts, though you two are constantly staring at each other as if you can.” Duncan snorted. Someday, Madeline, we’ll tell you all about it.

“Momby. It’s perfect. Yes. I will. Yes.”

For the span of a few seconds (infinite, me and you, baby) Kenzie stared into his eyes; he saw her halo still, and now he saw her wings, saw her otherworldly hair, lustrous in the night. Then Claire rushed to Kenzie and fell against her, sobbing again. Kenzie’s eyes still looked at him from the halo of Claire’s arms, and the devotion that lit them, twin stars in the shadow of the evening, from deep within the most secret part of her soul, he knew, was the only answer he would ever need to any question.

I love you. Body and soul.

[witchqueenofthemoon]

Her eyes opened–the multitude was there, as she knew it would be, and the sun was gone. In its absence, the infinite expanse of the hidden myriad; the unseen world. The cosmic tide.

BODY AND SOUL by @witchqueenofdarkness

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 32 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: Apologies for the lateness; this has been one of the longest stretches of days of my life. I’ll elaborate more at the end, I think, but suffice it to say this fic has quite literally changed my life; changed ME, forever. It reopened parts of me I thought had been consigned to the abyss and opened new doors entirely in my soul. It truly has fucking changed me body and soul, as cheesy as that fucking is. So when you read it, know that it comes from the depths of me. Marguerite Foley is based on Mary Beard. Kenzie’s starburst necklace looks like this. Kenzie suggesting FRANKENSTEIN to Anchaly is for a couple reasons; firstly, that I love it as much as she does, and secondly, a gothic horror is my next project, and it’s my nod to myself (haha). Kenzie being astounded at her own writing is how I feel sometimes when I read over any of this fic; “I wrote this???” is usually what I’m thinking. When the muse hits you, she’s no joke. This is Kenzie’s Marchesa dress, this is Duncan’s Alexander McQueen shirt. Crocus looks like this; I’ve been crazy about palominos since I was a child (and horses in general, let’s get real) and knew one of the horses Duncan got for Kenzie was always going to be a palomino. This is the dress Kenzie is wearing on his back, her earpieces are like this. This is the jacket Duncan is wearing in that shot. Kenzie’s birthday dress. Her lingerie. Duncan’s jacket and his shirt. Here are the pomegranate cufflinks (I had to, y’all). Here’s Hannah’s dress. Claire’s dress. Someone put on Hozier’s self-titled album while they’re getting ready because I’ve been listening to it a lot over the past week or so; the songs mentioned are FROM EDEN and IN A WEEK. A reminder that ARIADNE looks like this. There are only two more chapters left after this one; one of which I’ve written; I’ll write the epilogue after I upload Part 33. To those of you who have come so far with me on this incredible journey; thank you.

THREE WEEKS LATER

Kenzie ran out the penthouse door to the elevator, half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich clutched in her left hand, the moonstone glimmering on her finger as she shoved a pair of ballet flats on her feet. It was late afternoon--fuck, already--Anchaly had just rang on the intercom to tell her a special package had arrived. She’d been just about to go back to the study with her sandwich when he’d called; she’d been in the middle of writing a passage she’d been puzzling over. The strange thing about language, she thought, is it’s always trying to explain the inexplicable. And when you’re writing about love, you’re always trying to grasp the intangible.

She wore washed denim overall shorts and a white embroidered crop top--Kenzie noticed one of the strap sleeves had slipped off her shoulder as she skidded into the elevator, hurriedly pressing the foyer button; then she pushed it back up. At her neck was a long golden chain with a gold-and-diamond starburst hanging from it past her breasts--another gift from Duncan a few nights ago. I couldn’t help it, he’d said, his lips against the bottom of her ear as he clasped it around her neck, his breath sweet and heavy, his smell like cedarwood. I saw it and knew it was for you, and everything’s been going so well, the solar is going up without a hitch, the rooftop garden is almost done, the garden house is getting started, Annette’s like a different person, and after our meeting with Claire Underwood last week; and how much she loved you, loved our ideas...it’s my joy to give you things, it’s celebrating all of this, everything, us. Please let me continue to bestow gifts on you, sweet Princess. Kenzie peered at it in the elevator’s mirror, running it through her fingers; squinted at herself, her honey-colored hair falling around her face. Then she took another massive bite of her sandwich.

In addition to everything else, the new board was coming together nicely, too, she knew; Duncan had bought back shares owned by previous members of the board, and they had started from scratch, choosing only women as he’d promised; Momby and Annette were now something akin to friends, which Duncan and Kenzie constantly marveled over, watching them laugh and touch each other’s shoulders affectionately, going on brunch dates and to happy hours; the rest of the team Kenzie and Momby had carefully considered, eventually lighting on several women in prominent scientific fields, especially those with a focus on climate change action, Marguerite Foley, who had won a National Book Award for her new history of Ancient Rome, and two renowned socialist activists, both women of color, one of whom had gained nationwide attention for personally lassoing a confederate statue down from a public square in South Carolina and organizing major white-supremacist opposition protests. When Kenzie had first sat among this group of women in the newly-painted board room (a pleasing cerulean blue with gold borders that reminded her of a deep ocean with a golden shoreline), she had felt her heart swell beyond all words; I felt the Goddess there, she knew. As clearly as if She sat with us. And I knew it was good in Her eyes.

Kenzie had been doing her best to split time between the new board of directors and her book, which seemed to be flowing out of her like it was a river with a strong current. I think staring at the Youth of Bacchus all day doesn’t hurt when it comes to inspiration. Neither does wanting to share what’s in my heart so very, very much. The study had been transformed from Duncan’s work desk to Kenzie’s writing desk; they’d recently had two high-quality photos framed to put on it. One was the Vanity Fair shot of them together, the other, the two of them looking at each other at the Gala; glancing at them throughout the day, Kenzie felt constantly awash in a haze of golden affection, gratitude and deep emotion, and every time she read back on what she’d written, she felt lost in its loveliness, stunned at her own words. I wrote this, she knew, astounded. This came from my own heart, and now everyone will know. They’ll know what this feels like. They’ll feel the love I’ve felt; not just now, but in all the ages past, and the ones to come.

The elevator reached the ground floor and she stepped out, swallowing the rest of her sandwich, licking peanut butter off her finger. She turned to see Anchaly’s feet propped against the counter, his nose buried deep in Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey. There was a thick package in brown shipping paper on the countertop beside where his pristine Balmains were crossed over each other; Kenzie smiled.

“Nice shoes, Anchaly, those look really smart on you. And I love that one. Everyone always talks about Jane Austen writing good romance, but they always leave out how fucking funny and observant she was.”

“Hey, Princess.” A few weeks ago, Anchaly had started to call her this; Kenzie knew somehow, innately, that his doing so lacked all pretense. It felt right; natural. Even if he didn’t know, he knew. It was in the air. “Bought them with my first new paycheck. I think they really suit me.” Duncan had promptly raised the salaries of every person employed by Shepherd Unlimited a few days after assuming his role as CEO, as well as extending vacation time and enacting full benefits for every position. Anchaly continued. “And I agree about Ms. Austen. Delightful. Though I will say, this one’s making me want to read a serious gothic novel next, rather than a facetious one.”

“Frankenstein,” Kenzie breathed, eagerly. “It has to be Frankenstein. One of the best books ever written. I love it so much. It’s so heartbreakingly melancholy and so beautiful. Did you know Mary Shelley wrote it when she was only 18?”

“Goodness, no. That’s extraordinary. I’ll make it a point to get a copy, Miss Mackenzie.”

Kenzie nodded at him, grinning approvingly. Anchaly hitched his feet down, handing her the long brown package. She gripped it tightly, fingers white, knowing full well what it was. She couldn’t wait any longer. With the nails of her right hand she ripped along the seam, exposing the object within; it was the new issue of W magazine, and on its cover, she saw, her heart bursting into her mouth with bittersweet savor: us.

On the cover was a stunning photograph of her and Duncan. In it, she wore a beautifully embroidered Marchesa dress; the top had a high collar and embellished black etchings and flowers with cut-out mesh; in the photo the full skirt’s waist was just visible, it’s blooming golden roses peeking towards the bottom of the shot. She was flush to Duncan’s arms; her face dipping up towards the camera, strands of golden hair across her cheek, her lips parted just so, dark plum. Her eyes seemed impossibly deep gold, framed by her lashes, seeming impossibly long; like the photo on the study desk, but even brighter--even greater.  She wondered again vaguely if it was a trick of the camera; knew innately that it wasn’t. You can truly see us here. Who we really are. The cascade of her honey-colored hair dipped back, a waterfall of smooth, waving silk, and a crown of yellow begonias rested on the top of her head. Duncan’s face was also turned to the camera; her forehead rested against the dip of his chin, his full lips open too, just enough to evoke a deep longing in the onlooker, and his russety curls were across his forehead, falling down in artfully tossed, dark waves--akin to the deep gold of her own eyes, his seemed to glow with ethereal blue flame. Sword of the Evening Star, Kenzie thought, pressing her fingers against her mouth. Duncan wore a form-fitting Alexander McQueen black Oxford with a cascading embroidery of white roses along either side of his torso; one of his hands was visible at the top of her arm, his beautiful long fingers, holding her with aching tenderness. The light was sweet and low in the shot; the photocall had been on the White House’s back green with Claire Underwood’s permission, the sunlight falling in the late afternoon to dapple behind them; somehow the photographers had been able to preserve the sense of natural light, and Kenzie was reminded of their two sweet summer evenings at the cabin several weeks ago, could almost smell the drifting, low verdence of the grass that day.

She bit into her lip, breath stolen; the photo evoked a deep sense of romance, a dramatic and stirring sense of tenderness, bordering on gothicism. AT THE ALTAR OF DUCKENZIE, the headline read, printed in swirling script below them, and then, smaller: the breathtaking young gods and their plan to change the world. Kenzie heart thumped against the roof of her mouth now, her senses flooding with the blood the pumped from it fiercely. Fuck. It’s so much more beautiful than I could have imagined. She opened to the editorial inside; there was a five-page-long spread, the inner article with another subtitle; WHEN THE GOD OF WEALTH MET THE GODDESS OF SPRING, THE WORLD SHIFTED…: The new Hades and Persephone sit together in the fading light of the White House lawn, the editorial began, and Duncan Shepherd leans down to kiss her rosy cheek, her, Mackenzie Stone, who took the internet by storm when she abruptly stole his heart only a few short months ago…, the article went on, and Kenzie stopped. Oh god, I can’t possibly read this right now, she thought, feeling the heat rising in her face immediately. Kenz, you’re in the middle of writing. You have to wait.

In one of the photos of the inner spread, the photographers had enlisted the help of a breathtaking creamy palomino stallion; Kenzie sat astride him in a flowing white McQueen dress in delicate lace suns, moons and tiny flower-bursts, tiny white jewels threaded through her hair, huge crescent moon pendants earpieces on either side of her head. Duncan, in a striking long black blazer with cascades of glittering gold embroidery, also McQueen, held firmly to a gold-and-black-leather bridle the horse wore; there was a circlet with dark obsidian stones across his forehead. The horse’s mane was twisted into elegant braids that fell over his large, liquid-dark eyes, and a wreath of dark roses around his neck. Kenzie had loved this horse utterly; immediately, with a fierce adoration that threatened to shatter her into pieces.

“What’s his name,” she’d asked, tearing, touching the sides of his long face later, back on the ground--the horse had stared down at her, lashes blinking languidly. He dipped his head up, fluid, curious, and let out a quiet, curious neigh. His huge eyes fluttered again in some secret language.

“Crocus,” the trainer said, smiling at her, a big, burly man with coppery skin and a dark black beard. “He’s as sweet as honey butter. I’ve never met a stallion so mild. Like he came down from heaven, the holy mount of some lofty angel. Though it seems he’ll soon belong to another angel, from what I’ve been told.”

Kenzie had turned to Duncan, her mouth open. Crocus. Like the yellow flowers in my hair.

“Dunny.”

Duncan had grinned at her, his eyes sparkling, hand coming against his lips. Yes, my angel.

“Dunny.”

“I know your birthday is still a few weeks away, but--Kenzie. He’s yours. And we’ll find him companions, I promise. But I knew he had to be yours. He’s your jewel. I could see it right away. Meant to be, clear as crystal. Like the Mirror, or the flowers, or--oh, Kenz--don’t--”

For Kenzie, of course, had begun to cry, and as her tears poured forth like rain, she’d thrown herself into his arms.

-----

“Everything’s ready for the celebration tonight, Miss Mackenzie. If you are missing anything once the party gets underway, you know you need only call me for assistance. I hope it is truly a wonderful night.”

“Anchaly, honestly, lately--everything is wonderful. I’ve been infinitely blessed.”

“Miss Mackenzie, I beg to say--it is you who are the blessing. Since you came into our lives, it’s like the world was set aflame with the kindest, softest gold. Like…” Anchaly trailed off here, lost in thought, and his fingers came around his chin.

“Miss Stone...it’s like...like coming home.”

Kenzie had come around the desk and hugged the small man; she couldn’t help it, and Anchaly didn’t mind; she could feel his ease, his sense of comfort at her embrace. Thank you, Anchaly, she thought, pushing blushing waves down on him from the top of her head. She felt the man’s shoulders shake against her, and knew that he had been deeply moved, had felt what she had done acutely. Truly a wonderful night, she thought, his words echoing in her mind. Truly a wonderful night, and she knew he was right, knew it was on its way.

As she went back up to the penthouse, the magazine tucked safely under her arm, she thought of the articles they’d done in the Post two weeks before. Ben had been very satisfied to finally publish his piece with Duncan; as Duncan had promised, he had made an immediate donation to GLAAD in the name of the newly organized Shepherd Foundation of Arts and Sciences--in the amount of 2 million dollars, which had caused a ripple amongst the press that was now gaining a serious momentum. The W interview was the first they’d agreed to since Bill’s passing, but several more were lined up in the weeks to come, and they’d had so many press requests, Kenzie had requested that River (now Kenzie’s personal assistant) simply stop answering the phone for a few days. The Post article had been the most extensive regarding Duncan’s initial goals; and in Kenzie’s full-page piece, she’d elucidated on the company’s long-term goals, their hopes for a green future with the implementation of their solar energy and rooftop greenhouse blueprints, and their plans for legislation with Claire Underwood to pass laws enacting green policies in all areas of government. The plans were being met with resounding positivity by the public; Shepherd Unlimited’s stock had closed out at the top of the market for weeks now, and though Kenzie knew it would take time, she also knew eventually their goals would come to pass. And, then, hopefully, no more stock market anyway, she thought. If our goals prevail, Goddess willing, the new world will truly arrive. Not only will I have saved Duncan in this life, we will have saved this world from its own destruction. In the eyes of the Goddess, under Her bright kindness and the strong threads of Fate, all things are possible. I can’t disbelieve; not in light of everything that’s happened. Not in the face of this transcendent reality. When I’m with him, I know--every good thing is possible.

She thought of their garden house, far in the future still, but now taking shape; my garden house, I know, for he’s designing it for me--he’s worked tirelessly with the architect and the builders to make the design perfect, he’s already been going out there every day he can. They’d been told the house, greenhouse and horse barn would take two years from start to finish, all-told, at this juncture; but something electric surrounded the property. When she’d visited it for the first time a week ago, it had felt to Kenzie like the quiet serenity of the black oak circle, but compounded and expanded and made greater, a Thin Place stretched to an extraordinary distance. Like its own little world. Duncan had texted her that day from Westminster, about an hour and a half drive from DC, where the land was, with several accompanying pictures.

Duncan: Kenzie, baby, just look at it. The builders are ahead of schedule already. This won’t take two years. I can feel it. It’s this place. She’s EVERYWHERE here, Kenzie. I love you so much. I can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ll kiss you a thousand times, my sweet Princess of Heaven. 

The accompanying pictures showed the structure of the house already well in place, the plotting of the greenhouse and the barn distinct. Crocus was being kept in a private stable several miles away until the barn was erected; that can’t come soon enough, Kenzie thought, for Duncan had promised they’d find him two companions when the garden house came closer to completion. And I miss him terribly, Kenzie thought. She’d only been able to visit the palomino once since Duncan had purchased him, and she’d burst into tears again, burying her face against his soft haunches. Crocus had made tiny horsey sounds; dipping his long face back and forth, but Kenzie could have sworn he was trying to comfort her. Do you remember me too, beauty? She thought. Did we know each other long ago? But she didn’t need to ask. She knew they had, with a golden certainty. Like Duncan, you’ve always been mine, honey-sweet, nectar wine, my Crocus, mild as the sunflower-colored dawn.

The moonstone ring caught the light in her reflection before she exited the elevator, back on the penthouse floor; Kenzie had relished her day alone, writing through the morning, but now she longed for Duncan; as I always do this time of day, she thought. The ring was like a kiss from his mouth against her finger; this thought pressed against her again and again, a mantra on her heart. A kiss. A kiss forever. A devotion. A promise to me. A symbol of love, as constant as the moon, changing and yet the same, turning against the earth until it too dissolves into something else, and yet even then, somewhere, never gone, just in some other place, some other time. When I look at it, I see the poetry of his mind; the fall of his thoughts, the way they hold me, the way they inspired me, kindled my heart to do the thing I was meant to do, write something truly beautiful, something that would give a piece of this love--as infinite as it is, as ever-growing, ever-expanding--to everyone who touches it. When he conceived this ring from the artistry of his own mind, he was thinking of the love between us, and he was thinking of me; the aspect of my soul. I know it. Every time I see it, I feel it.

The moonstone seemed to swirl, creamy-dark, and the diamonds glittered as she shifted her wrist up to tuck her hair back, slipping her keycard back into the door. She was frustrated to realize how close to the party her writing had skirted; she only had about an hour more to finish the part she was working on, and she’d be cutting it close. Soon the caterers would be arriving, soon Hannah and Georgio would be here for their styling, photographers, Morgan to fit her into her dress, and soon Duncan would be home. Back to work, Kenzie Lou. You know you won’t be able to even think about it once he gets home.

Kenzie went back to the study that had once been Duncan’s--and was now unmistakably hers. The Youth of Bacchus stretched along the entire wall, colossal, endless, staggeringly moving; she moved up to it, as she often did, comparing herself to the life-size figures. Kenzie toed for a moment, the magazine still tucked against her, in the fourth position. Old ballet habits die hard. She pretended to dance with them for a moment; turning her head up like the revelers depicted therein. In life, there is such joy. To be alive at all, and then to find him endlessly. I know now that her benevolence extends over everything. I see Her in every flower, in the shape of his face, in the facets of the moon, one of thousands, one of millions in the structure of her Time. I am Ariadne, thrown into the stars; Mother, I feel you everywhere. I know I’m your beloved.

Kenzie ceased her silent dance, giggling at herself, her own abandon; she switched on the Tiffany lamp beside Duncan’s smooth turntable and returned to the desk, gently setting the magazine down on it beside her Macbook, her Google doc open on the screen. Above where she’d placed the magazine were the two framed photos; the one from Vanity Fair (that day my heart was so heavy, but he held me with so much love and tenderness, his love a healing balm) and the one from the Gala, their faces full of such splendid happiness she often caught herself staring at it, lost in its emotion, its pure joy. There was another photo framed there now, smaller than the other two; the photo of Momby in bell sleeves, grinning in her youth out onto her unseen future. There was a slender velvet box on the other side of her laptop, one Kenzie had tied a satin, burgundy-colored ribbon around. She’d left it there as a reminder to herself to give it to him as soon as he got home; the first part of Duncan’s birthday present was something for him to wear that night. The second part, well--those are for me to wear, she thought. And I’ll make him fucking weak.

She glanced at the magazine cover one more time. I can’t wait to show this to him, she thought. At the altar of Duckenzie...Kenzie thought of that first night, the christening of their true altar; our bed, she thought, over which a dozen bouquets now hang, each of his adornments for me, yellow crocus after he found my beautiful Crocus, begonias after I loved the ones on my crown for the photoshoot so much, but mostly roses, roses in every shade, and these I’ve been gathering as though I would weave the colors of his love with them. Our bedroom, where stands our Mirror, unstuck from time, where we’ve fucked in passionate abandon almost every night since we met, and yet never tire of each other’s delights, never tire of the closeness or the need or the ecstatic connection of us, and never will. She’d worn the black and white lace lingeries on several nights over the past few weeks, let him tie her up half a dozen times, pulled him insistently into the shower for the last three mornings, demanding; they’d fucked on every surface of the penthouse at least twice more since returning from the cabin a few weeks ago, but her favorite place remained their bed; in the dark, in the shadows, with the moon on us, and your eyes made of blue flames, and the greatness of you, Evening Star, my sweet Hades.

Kenzie went back to writing.

-------

Erik was at the door promptly at five-thirty, in a blouse with voluminous iridescent magenta sleeves; Hannah and Georgio were behind him, carrying their styling chairs, bags slung over their shoulders. Morgan arrived right after, in a swirling black cape, long, dark green gloves on her hands.

“Darling,” she cooed, “you will truly look the part of a cosmic Princess tonight, my sweet. One of my favorite works I’ve done to date, bar none. One of my masterpieces.”

“Morgan, everything you make is a masterpiece,” Kenzie said, hopping excitedly at the long clothing rack that was being wheeled in behind the eccentric designer, leaning to kiss Morgan’s cheek.

“As I said, my love. One of.” Morgan kissed her in turn, and floated past her.

Kenzie wondered for a moment where Claire was, then knew; with Harris, of course. She’ll probably show up when he does. Oh my sweet Clairebear. Several caterers slipped in behind Morgan, heading towards the kitchen island with a wheel cart that carried, rather than a cake, Duncan and Kenzie’s alternative choice: two hundred organic, vegan, edible-gold crescent moon cinnamon cupcakes. On the lower shelves of the cart Kenzie could see case after case of delicate hors d'oeuvres, chilly tins of caviar, and ramekins of creme brulee and chocolate mousse. Kenzie peered anxiously into the hallway, which was empty now. Where’s Duncan, she frowned, turning back inside.

“Kenzie, get over here, let’s get started,” Hannah beckoned to her, grinning. Her lipstick was pale lavender today, her hair still the same striking purplish-gray. Her dress was a dusty periwinkle chiffon midi with floral embroidery, long silvery chains with flowers and bird charms hanging from her neck. She looked beautiful; like a fairy lady-in-waiting, come to adorn Kenzie’s hair with flowers again. But not flowers tonight, Kenzie thought. Tonight, I will be the radiance of the night sky.

“Where’s Duncan?” Kenzie said, more to herself than to her hairdresser. Hannah shrugged, patting her on the shoulders, turning her towards the mirrors Erik was setting up in front of them. 

“Did he say he’d be back yet?”

“Well, no, not necessarily--” Kenzie fell into the chair which Hannah had placed on the wide living room carpet, the same spot it had been in for the Gala. “But he knew what time you’d be arriving and he texted me hours ago from the garden house, so he’s probably back in the city by now. One of his birthday presents is something for him to wear, so I wanted to give it to him soon.”

“I’m sure he’ll be along soon, Princess,” Hannah murmured, already working a thin comb through Kenzie’s golden hair, parting it carefully. Kenzie wrinkled her nose at Hannah in the mirror; you too huh. Hannah stopped, squealing; “Oh my god, the ring, Kenzie, holy shit!”

Kenzie had made an Instagram post the day after Duncan had given it to her on Momby’s deck, her hand elegantly poised up to the sunlight over their bed, moonstone and diamonds glittering, the flowers she’d pinned along the headboard visible in the backdrop. Three weeks later, the picture had garnered over 10 million likes, which simply seemed impossible to Kenzie. The paps had started calling them Prince Duncan and Princess Mackenzie in articles; as if we really are royalty. Well--as if they know.

“Duncan designed it himself,” Kenzie smiled, her mind once again drifting to Duncan’s other presents she had for tonight. Oh baby. Gonna make you howl for me. Hannah continued to fawn over the ring, tsking as she clutched Kenzie’s fingers, staring down at it. “Lovely, fuck, wow, the most beautiful ring I have ever seen, like a full moon surrounded by stars.”

“I think that’s what he was thinking of, honestly,” and Kenzie’s smile widened, her teeth peeking free from her lips, turning her head up. “He calls me moonbeam sometimes.”

“Oh, Princess.” Hannah straightened her head back to stare into the mirror, shaking her own lavender tresses. “I can’t wait to style your pretty head for that wedding. God, I might just faint from the loveliness of all of it. I might just fucking scream.” Morgan was fussing to their left over the cloth bag that held Kenzie’s dress; she glanced up at the Bouguereau prints along the wall, forgetting the dress for a moment to coo softly at them.

“Oh, how divine, Bouguereau. The academic painters are highly underrated if you ask me. Our Duncan is quite the romantic at heart, isn’t he?”

“He really is, Morgan. Deep in his soul.” Kenzie’s heart clenched as she spoke. My Hades, serious, sensitive, sweet as evening.

“I doubt you would have given him another glance if he wasn’t,” Hannah added, using a curling iron to twist Kenzie’s hair into even waves. “You can see into people’s hearts, I knew it the moment I saw you.” On the fold-out drawer beside her Kenzie could see beautiful golden headband with starburst embellishments from end to end, a particularly large one in the middle made of blue sapphires with gold trim. Me and Duncan. My gold surrounding his blue.

“Oh Hannah, I love that,” Kenzie murmured, gesturing to it without moving her head this time, trying not to annoy her hairdresser too much.

“It made me think of you and Duncan immediately,” Hannah said in a quiet voice, and Kenzie could feel her emotion--feel the quavering adoration there. She sent golden energy out from her body over Hannah. Sweet lavender-tinted soul.

Someone had put music on; a soothing guitar line and lilting chorus drifted through the room, and Kenzie felt her own energy, her own desire for the evening, fill the cracks in the space, between the sound;

Honey, you’re familiar, like my mirror, long ago

Kenzie heard the front door open a little later amid the bustle now shaking the penthouse; she turned and saw the beloved, familiar crown of Duncan’s autumnal curls, the striking outline of his profile, and yelped, slipping deftly out of Hannah’s grip, running in several quick bounds into his arms--his blueness fell over her, sucking her breath away. Duncan laughed into her hair and Kenzie’s heart soared up to the ceiling with the sound, her body suddenly afire with him; home, home, home, you’re home and so I’m home now, too, the respite of him flowing, instantly, utterly, into her veins. Through the halo of her arms at his neck and the sweet, musky smell of him, Kenzie noticed two men behind him carrying a very large, rectangular object covered in packing paper; Duncan turned to them with her still clutched against him, and nodded to them.

“In the bedroom, please, thanks guys--” and then he buried his face against her again as they moved past, and Kenzie sighed, everything else, everyone melting away into nothing with the feel of him.

“Fuck, baby, I missed you today--”

“I fucking missed you--”

He kissed her with a fierce hunger that stopped all entreaty--she felt his fingers (loveliest of all to me, beloved) drift against the back of her head, holding her achingly against his mouth, his arm tucking her tightly to him, her face hovering over his. His thoughts were an endless plea: kiss me, kiss me Kenzie, please just kiss me--

“Baby,” she broke away, hovering so her whisper fell on the wetness she’d left on his mouth, “what was in that package?”

Duncan grinned; the smile of the gods. Like the sun. More beautiful to me than any star.

“Come on. Open it now. I want you to see. I want us to look at it alone--just me and you. Angel baby.” He lowered her to earth (would that I’d never have to come down from the height of your arms, Prince), and his fingers came again, the desperation to touch her seeping from him into her, to press to each side of her face, his forehead leaning down to her in an adoring embrace that left her breathless. Kenzie stared up into his sapphiric eyes; she could feel her mouth hovering open at his beauty, felt lost in the delicate cock of his chin; they marveled at one another in silence for a quiet, extended moment. Your delight to me is endless, Duncan, your beauty to me above all other beauties.

I’ll never tire of your face, Kenzie, which I would know, even in death, even in the void, as the face of the other half of my Soul.

He gently let go of her, and Kenzie finally noticed everyone in the room gaping at them openly; both she and Duncan looked away from the collective stares, shyly. Many people openly gazed at them this way these days; it seemed it simply couldn’t be helped. Duncan had started to call it their sheen; it was as if with their union they had opened a kind of doorway, one through which the tiniest sliver of their divine light poured forth. Like Claire had said: the light a moth flies into. Kenzie often felt frozen under the power of it over the past few weeks; the fell swoop of stunned amazement they caused together was endlessly strange, and it charged her body again and again with a frantic glow that often threatened to overwhelm her, as if a battery within her was being recharged with immense power. At these times, after the moments where their sheen was witnessed, their powers were super-charged for awhile; she could hear every tiny nuance of Duncan’s thoughts, which both thrilled her and stole her breath away. It was beyond words; it was more like the tiny cadence of a melody, too fragile to explain even to herself. She found, in this charged state, that she could transmutate across further and further distances, conjure fires with an ease that astounded her. The sway she could hold now over the paps constantly outside the high-rise now was extraordinary; Harris and her entourage were scarcely needed, as the paps would remain calm and Kenzie unaccosted as she held them under her powers. Duncan could do the same--the sheen both astounded the world to them, and protected them.

In that state, I see everything; the shades of him, the brightness and the darkness too. The throng of every thread She wove into him, when she created him, the perfect other half of me. Without him, I would cease. Without me, he would disappear. She wove it that way--I see that I’ve been blessed beyond all others in this way. We were the first; the very first time she melded two souls, and her work was majesty. It was us. We were the first of all true love.

Duncan led her past the people in the penthouse--out of the noisy quiet of their stares, the bleeding music (we lay here for years or for hours, your hand in my hand...), and into the soothing cocoon of their bedroom, closing the door behind her, still holding her hand. The men had set the long object wrapped in paper against the far wall--the empty wall, Kenzie realized. The blank wall where we vowed to put something beautiful.

“Kenzie.”

He turned to her, reaching for her other hand, blue eyes burning like low coals.

“Baby--I’m so happy. It’s yours forever now. It’s so beautiful, it’s--please, Kenzie--know that to me, it’s always you. I will always see your face in it. Whenever I look at it, I’ll only see you.”

“Dunny, what is it?”

He only smiled again, leading her to the papered object. She watched his deep breath, her fingers coming up to press to her lips.

“Open it, Duncan. Open it for me.”

Duncan’s eyes flashed at her; summer lightning in a storm. Then he gave her a little nod, a heart-stopping, teasing smile, then he turned, a long, black-clad shadow (as ever) leaning to the corner of the paper where it lifted free of its glue, and with his long fingers grasped and tore it--as he did, Kenzie glimpsed a swath of wine-red and lilac, the shape of a pair of bent knees on a raised dais. Duncan threw the swath of paper aside and grasped her under her arms; led her close to the painting (for that’s what it is--it’s a painting) and brought her hands down to the dip of the paper that remained. Rip it away, baby, look at it, look at how perfect it is. More perfect than I could have imagined. Use your power to reveal it.

Kenzie did as he said; gestured softly, her fingers curving; the paper ripped up in a swift movement that exposed, suddenly, the sweet, upturned face of a maiden in repose, one of her breasts free, her body clad in wine-red silk painted on canvas. Kenzie’s body tingled, her senses flush with emotion, suddenly--she tore the rest of the paper away from the painting, widening her fingers, shifting the space--and then, overcome with its reveal, kneeled in front of it, holding her breath, eyes wide.

“Baby.”

“It’s called Ariadne. She was the wife of Dionysus; Bacchus, like--you know--”

“Like The Youth of Bacchus.”

She lifted her face up to where he stood, hands in her lap, her body hunched towards the loveliness of it; Duncan came down to her, kneeling beside her, reaching for her hands.

“He loved her. She was his wife--he gave her a crown made of stars. When she died, he threw it into the sky, so she would always be remembered.”

“Like Star of Heaven.”  Kenzie felt the tears on her cheeks.

“Yes, Kenzie. You. My star of heaven.”

“Duncan. It’s--” And she lifted her fingers to his cheeks, cupping his face, running her thumbs along the stubble with a deep, abiding relief. He turned his mouth into her palm; closed his eyes, kissed her long and longingly.

“I knew as soon as I saw that it was going up for auction. I knew. Kenz, you’ll see soon, the garden house, it’s--it’s coming to life. She’s speeding it along. I can feel her there. She’s in every shadow and every corner. The Veil there, it’s so thin, sometimes I think I can see colors from that other place, that heavenly place--all the builders feel it too, I can tell, they work tirelessly, and never seem to get weary, and they sing as they work, as if they know it’s a holy place, and to me it sounds like hymns to you, it all reminds me of you--it’s going to be our safe haven, baby, our secret place away from all of this. It’s going to be what you’ve dreamed about. I can see the dream being pulled out of our minds and into the world.”

I could see your dream, and I’ve made it real. Just as you are the dream I’d hoped for, on the other side of time.

Kenzie turned back to Ariadne, a trembling finger reaching out to it to trace, hovering, along the cascade of her red robe, the printed fur of the leopard that lounged at her feet, the dusky sky behind her. A crown made of stars. Like the one I’ll wear tonight, in your honor, my Prince. In our honor.

She buried herself in his arms, sighing, his shape immediately overwhelming her. Even when Hannah knocked impatiently a few minutes later, the clock marching on to when the party was set to begin, they still hovered against each other, gazing at each other in a repose they ached not to break, Kenzie’s eyes roving over Ariadne, which she knew she would study carefully in time. The long day was over--even in the center of this party, she knew, they’d only see and feel each other, thank blessed Fate.

For it’s us, together--the greatest of all Her majesties.

----------

Duncan was in the chair across from her, pouring over the W magazine spread, his hand on his chin, a dancing light behind his eyes. Hannah was working product through his hair, but Duncan didn’t seem to register her administration at all; he was staring intently at the photo of Kenzie atop Crocus with a concentration that bordered on obsession, and Kenzie could feel his thoughts, ardently reaching towards her. Only a few months until our wedding, beloved, but I want to marry you right now, I want everyone to know you are my greatest joy. His hand reached across to her from the chair, eyes glancing to her. He had changed from the clothing he’d worn out to the garden house and to retrieve the painting from Stapleton Antiques, a black short-sleeved button down and comfortable chinos; now he wore an elegant, long-cut Givenchy blazer that reached his knees, an embroidered Oxford underneath. Something glimmered at the wrists of his sleeves; the first of Kenzie’s gifts.

“To Hades, from your Persephone,” she’d whispered as she’d passed him the velvet box a little while ago in the study. Inside were a pair of cufflinks shaped like two halves of a ripe pomegranate, with dark red garnets representing the inner seeds, sterling silver for the skins. “I’ve eaten the seeds and I’ve chosen to stay with you forever, my sweet Duncan. Happy birthday.”

“Oh, Kenz,” and his smile was melting her heart again, dripping down her ribs. “Put them on me, please? Fuck, they’re lovely.” Kenzie had gently lifted them one at the time from the box, attaching them to the cuffs of his Givenchy coat as he drifted his fingers through her hair. “I have something else for you,” Kenzie whispered up to him in their last moment of solitude. “But it’s something I’m wearing for you. For later. When we’re alone.”

“Kenzie.” His mouth crushed against hers as she finished attaching the second cufflink; his tongue fell against her and she gasped against him, his longing palpable, a heady taste from him. His long fingers came to her throat, thumb pressing up towards her chin. “I’m ready to call this whole thing off. I want you right now.”

Kenzie had pulled away from him; she felt the reluctance in his fingers as he let go of her. You want me right there, I know, right up against your hand, your mouth. Just wait a little longer, you know the wait makes it sweeter, you know it does…

“Nothing could make you sweeter, Mackenzie Shepherd,” he’d whispered, the burning in his eyes threatening to set her aflame. “I want you alone.”

“Behave, Mr. Shepherd, or you won’t get your other presents.” Kenzie drifted a hand down from her neck, between her breasts and against the mound between her legs. She watched Duncan throw his head back, his adam’s apple bobbing; saw the wetness in his gaze for her, felt in his thoughts his desire to press his mouth to where her hand rested.

“I have to get dressed now,” she’d whispered, and Duncan had bitten into his lip, his fingers now toying with the cufflinks. “Time for your Ariadne to wear her stars.”

The dress Morgan had created for her was delicately intricate. It had a bodice of embroidered gold that dipped low over her breasts, and open sleeves made of black, sheer tulle with golden starbursts woven across their surface, concentrations of them at the crooks of her elbows and along the edges. A full, sheer black tulle skirt fell beyond the bodice; embroidered into it were dozens of golden constellations from the night sky, and her legs were visible through the transparent fabric behind them, a black bodysuit built into lower part of the gold bodice to cover her groin. Kenzie loved how marvelously comfortable it was in its beauty; she stood from the styling chair now as Duncan watched her, finished with her preparations, and twirled in a wide circle under his gaze, grinning to him as people rushed around them. Kenzie knew a hundred more would be arriving soon; she leaned down to his ear, whispering as his hand came against her waist. “Next year, we’re doing our birthday party alone, baby. Just the two of us.” Duncan moaned a little against her cheek; his curls brushed her lips as he nodded. Yes, Kenzie. Yes. Just me and you. I grow so tired of these parties. When the garden house is built and we’ve set everything in motion, then we’ll rest alone, in each other’s arms.

Momby and Annette arrived soon after, both wearing striking black; Annette in custom-tailored Diane von Furstenberg that fell to the floor, Momby in a black pantsuit with the medusa earrings Annette had gifted her; she’d been really warming to her role on the Shepherd Unlimited board, and it made Kenzie smile to see the deepening bond that seemed to be growing between their mothers after all the strife of years gone by. Claire and Harris came just as a slew of other guests were beginning to stream into the penthouse; Harris in a striking velvet blazer that Kenzie knew immediately must have been Claire’s doing. Claire wore a beautiful, flowing mauve v-neck gown, with a banded waist and a heavenly cascading skirt to her feet. Kenzie crushed her friend in her arms, breathing in her soft smell, sensing her happiness.

Kenzie and Duncan were keeping the bedroom door locked for this party, having agreed it was too sacred a space to them to let the prying eyes of the guests and photographers into it. Every tidbit of information about their lives was now being unearthed to the public, it seemed--or at least mine, Kenzie thought. Duncan’s used to all the scrutiny, but I’m not used to my old high school photos spreading like wildfire on Instagram, which had happened several times recently. A mountain of gold-wrapped gifts had begun to accumulate on the cherrywood dining table in the far room; Kenzie watched Duncan move elegantly among their guests, politician and celebrity alike, with an ease that made her feel weak. He was always meant to be this person; wonderfully gentle, staggering in his beauty now because it shines out from within. I watched Claire Underwood’s face this time, when we met with her together; she saw the sheen of us too, and her heart was changed towards him. Now he can will things into this world, can sway the hearts of people like I can, can calm them, can heal them. He’s doing it now, I can see it.

She clutched him with nervous elation as the guests had gathered around them to toast to their mutual birthdays--Duncan had dipped a hand down around the bottom of her waist, holding her close as he raised his champagne flute into the air; the raised voices of a hundred people around them singing out happy birthday were drowned in the rushing of her ears, the fervor of her thoughts for him, and as he had longed for her in the study, anxious for the time to pass, now she was longing for him, for their own private celebration. Throughout the rest of the night, Kenzie found her thoughts constantly drifting onto Ariadne, wishing she could steal away to the bedroom to study it, memorize its strokes. Goddess, I can’t believe it’s mine. I’ll always see your face in it, he said. I’ll only see you. She knew it would look down on them through many passionate nights to come; knew it would bless them, her soft face turned to the sky, full of contentment, in the nimbus of evening. She’ll watch over us tonight, won’t she, when I finally have him in my arms.

Kenzie realized, as the night wore slowly on, that her power, her sheen, was slowly working on the guests; they drifted, as if in a dream, back out into the night. The penthouse had begun to empty in a quiet, unassuming way, the chatter of small-talk dissipating, the music quieting supernaturally. The moon was back to a waxing gibbous as the weeks had worn on; back to almost being full, reminding her of the Gala and its strangeness, the full moon staring down on them. The ring of protection she’d felt from it that night also seemed present on this evening, kindling her powers up. In the dress she felt closer to her true self than ever; as close as she had ever been to this High Princess she now knew resided in her, even more than the gold dress she’d worn for the Gala. She could see Duncan recognizing it in her too, could see him registering the way she had begun to silently, soothingly end the party. He stared at her from where Nike rested by the picture window, a glass of red wine dangling from between the crook of his fingers, a small smile playing around his mouth. Just watching you work, my love. I love to watch you use your powers. How easy it all comes to you. Your destiny so clearly in motion. His position reminded her of the first time she’d seen him, gazing out with longing and boredom into the night, another long-gone wine glass held in his hand on the balcony, another long-gone smile having played on the corners of his mouth.

But not gone, not really, Kenzie knew. Alive forever in my heart and my memory, and alive in the part of time that never ends. Alive forever because there is no time, not really, not for us. She made us that way; so we’d live beyond time, and in every time we would endure.

She watched Claire lean up to kiss Harris’ mouth as they slipped out the door--Claire glanced at her and blew a kiss then, seeming to either not know or not care at the impulse to leave so fast, and Kenzie smiled at her. Deep in her heart, Claire has always known who I was. That’s what drew her to me so long ago, she was the moth, I was the flame that would always warm her. And in return she’s given me such light from her soul. I don’t know why I deserved her, but to see her infinite joy lately has been a joy to me. She deserves every good thing. Madeline and Annette slid away next, talking with each other animatedly, Annette bursting into laughter over something Madeline said (they are always laughing together now--Annette, who didn’t laugh for so long, and my sweet and silly Momby, my Momby who is so strong and so beautiful); Kenzie didn’t mind that they didn’t even look up to her and Duncan. She could feel the strength of her own spell, like a strong wave, a tide that was inexplicable in its mighty demand. She could feel the intensity of Duncan’s gaze mounting, the wonderment in it.

This is the strongest thing like it I’ve ever felt from you, Kenzie, he thought. This is magnificent.

I want you. I want everyone to leave.

Erik was the last to leave; he had champagne flutes in either hand, and he raised them together, throwing his head back.

“To the new world, my exalted darlings!” he crowed, then drank both off in succession; and then in a whirl of magenta sleeve, the big black penthouse door snapped shut behind him, and they were finally alone.

Duncan paused, setting his glass beside Nike carefully. You give me honey, give me honey, honey, honey, honey...Kenzie heard the entreaty of his prayer, the lilt of it, drifting like autumn leaves in the swathe of his thoughts. I will toil for her throughout every age, give myself to her in agonizing piousness, if she would but touch me again, I would suffer any pain, for her touch soothes any ill away like healing rain...my Princess of Stars. My Queen of Roses.

“Come to me,” she whispered. Duncan did--he closed the space between them with a weary swiftness that broke over her like a gust of jasmine-scented wind. His hands came down her neck, immediate, needy; he towered over her, but she knew, as I knew that first night at the first touch from him, the touch he begged to give me, and I consented, that he was hers utterly, hers to command, and he would obey anything she asked, obey her with complete devotion, kiss the bottoms of her feet if she asked him to, kiss every inch of her until the sun rose after the long night.

“Kiss me, beloved,” and she felt his fingers pulling the starry headband gently from her scented hair, the better to bury himself against her--he dropped it to the floor, its sapphires winking up, forgotten by them both; the press of his darkness was so luxuriant to Kenzie in this moment she wanted to wail. His mouth stopped any sound, though; stopped the furious pounding of her heart, the nerves she suddenly felt, knowing she could command him despite all his marvelous beauty, her perception of his power. You are more powerful than I, he told her. I worship you above myself, above all others, above everything, even above the Goddess Herself, and She has forgiven me, She has accepted my perfect love for you as a tribute to Her, and in Her eyes, it is good. She is not a jealous being; from her heart is benevolence, the recognition of all that is well and lovely. She’s deemed us the best of these things, Princess Exultant. So fuck me; tell me to fuck you. I’m yours to command in all worship.

“Undress me,” she breathed into him, and Duncan’s hands found the crevices of her dress, the delicate zipper at her back; he yanked it down with hands that seemed to burn, and as it fell away his eyes rolled back to behold what she wore beneath it; it was another exquisite lingerie, this one rose-gold and so fragile it seemed to be made of the gossamer strands of a spider’s silk--there were tiny white bows on either strap and in the center of the bra between Kenzie’s breasts, and more on the panties. The top of the suspender at her waist were dipped into unique panels, the panties entirely sheer but for a small swath of fabric over the lips of her sex. The white straps of the suspender dipped over her thighs to sheer stockings. The starry dress fell to the floor (falling stars, us falling to earth so long ago) and Duncan’s hand pressed up, roughly, to the space between her legs, lifted her into his mouth again as he did.

“I have one more thing for you,” she hummed against him, and he moaned into her; she could feel the hardness between his legs through his dark ensemble as she brought her fingers against him, could see the flushing in his beautiful cheeks. “Let’s go in our bedroom, Dunny. Let’s look in our Mirror and fuck. I’m gonna tie you up again. But in the bed this time.”

“Baby,” he cried against her, and she stepped back, making him come to her, stepping out of the dress in the same golden strapped heels she’d worn the night they met, knowing he would notice them again. She turned, her hair falling down her back to the top of her ass, and knew he’d see the back of the panties, too; totally sheer. For him.

“Come on, Prince Duncan, I’m gonna rip your fucking clothes off,” she said, and then Kenzie laughed; she thought of her Ariadne in repose as it came into view, thought of Bacchus in the next room, its figures in rapture. Come to me, come to me, she weaved her spell, and he was pressing against her, the warmth at his crotch making her eyes flutter closed as his lips fell on her ear, and he sucked.

She turned into him, her body folding so small against him, and she insistently began to undress him; the Givenchy coat fluttered to the floor, the snap of his belt rang out, and he was gasping against her, astounded at her need, fixated by it. Soon he was utterly naked, and Kenzie pushed him roughly onto the bed, staring openly at the strain of his thick erection.

“Don’t you dare fucking move, baby. You’re not allowed.”

“Uh huh, Kenzie. I won’t.”

She went to the closet where she’s carefully hid his last present; grasped it in her fingers, the hardness and largeness of it making warmth pool in her belly. She grasped the velvet rope, too; and when she brought them out she eagerly watched Duncan’s cock jump with anticipation.

“Happy birthday, baby,” she whispered. “I’m gonna tie you up now. And then I’m gonna use my new plug on myself. It’s a lot bigger than the other one...look at how big it is. I’m gonna push this big plug into my tiny little ass and then you’re gonna eat my little cunt--and then I’m gonna ride you hard, and fuck you senseless.”

She held it up to him and a tiny, strangled sound escaped from Duncan’s throat; oh fuck me, he thought. Kenzie, angel, fucking fuck me.

She came to the edge of the bed, setting both objects down on it gently; Duncan’s fingers curled at her toes as she lifted one of her feet to undo the straps at her ankle, then the other. Then she climbed on top of him, straddling him, gripping him under his chin harshly for a moment, hissing as he tried to put his arms up around her; Duncan stopped and lowered them, swallowing; she could feel that he knew what she wanted. His submission. I want you to be mine only in this moment. Watch me tie you up in the Mirror, baby. Watch.

As Kenzie lifted his well-formed arms up to the slats of the headboard, the blooming flowers stretched above them, throwing down clouds of deep scent. Duncan’s aching blue eyes drifted to their reflection; she heard him groan again at the shape of her in the rosy-sheened lingerie, and felt his wonder at their loveliness together as she began to twist the ribbon around his wrists, anchoring him to the bed.

As she finished, reaching for the coconut oil they always kept on the nightstand now, Duncan strained against the ropes, dipping his thighs up to try to keep the pressure of her against him, desperate to touch her.

“Shhh, baby, be calm. Don’t get too excited yet,” Kenzie whispered, letting her face fall close to him and her breath drift over him. Duncan leaned up, trying to kiss her; she leaned away, eliciting another sound of terrible frustration from him. She dipped her hand into the oil, and first she leaned behind where she was sitting on his belly, to the aching length of his cock--she slathered the oil over it, tightening her grip, and Duncan let out a cry that stirred wild warmth through her body. Then she let go of him, lifting off him, pulling the sheer panties away, and turned on him so her back was facing him from her newly-straddled position, her sex pressing gently against the length of his cock. She watched his face over her shoulder as his eyes went hazy on her; as they gazed at her sliding the wetness of the oil over the pucker of her ass, then gripping the larger plug in two fingers, wetting it too.

“You want me to fuck myself with this, huh, baby?”

Duncan groaned, his head falling back on the pillow, his eyes fluttering wildly, neck bobbing as if in terrible thirst. “Fucking god, Kenzie, yes, holy fuck, I can’t--”

“Duncan, breathe.”

Duncan sucked in a shuddering breath; let it out. His cock strained; Kenzie didn’t touch it, only let her hand hover near.

“Dunny, ask me. You have to ask me.” Kenzie tossed her hair and grinned at him.

“Kenzie, please, will you fuck yourself with that plug? Fucking please, oh fuck, please, angel--”

Kenzie moaned in anticipation as she pressed the tip of the head against her ass; then, in a harsh determination, forced the large plug inside the wetness she’d made there; she cried up into the ceiling, her head falling back immediately with the immensity of its pressure, and then she slid up to him, her ass still facing him, until she knew she’d reached his chin.

“Tell me to sit on your face, baby,” she whispered now, staring at him through their reflection in the mirror.

“Kenzie, holy--sit on my fucking face, baby--” His eyes were wild with need, his mouth shivering; Kenzie lifted her hips and fell on him, and his tongue immediately pressed to her sweetest, most sensitive spot.

“Love for all time,” Kenzie murmured, “look into my eyes, most beloved,” and Duncan’s eyes (every storm, every sky, every piece of heaven, every notion of god) were in hers as her body hovered against his mouth, through the iridescent surface of the Mirror, which Kenzie knew glowed with the hints of that golden Sphere which once was hers, a Sphere she couldn’t imagine the shape of, but knew as innately as she knew her own heart, her own skin. The plug was so heavy and so harsh against her she couldn’t stop herself from crying out again and again; she leaned down, gripping the base of Duncan’s cock, keeping him terribly hard as he sucked on her; then she lifted away from him and he gasped. “No, Kenzie, come back to me--”

“Shhh. It’s time for us to fuck, baby. When we fuck, it’s fucking holy.”

Kenzie slid down, letting the wetness between her legs leave a trail on Duncan’s torso, down his belly--then, staring at him, his achingly beautiful mouth damp with her cunt, she ground down onto his cock, as hard as she had ever felt, and bucked her hips, her ass still facing him so he could see the plug, this one with a jewel of dark blue, deep inside her.

“As you are mine,” she cried softly, “I am yours, and heaven sees it, and knows it, and we are holy to her, beloved, fuck--” Kenzie felt her hair falling against her back, shivering-soft, felt the heat of his skin as she gripped his thighs, bearing down on him--their eyes met again in the Mirror, his mouth stretched open in silent adoration of her, and Kenzie knew, with a fervent and absolute knowledge, that they were bright in the eyes of heaven; that their divinity was absolute, and all their work would be good unto this world from here on.

“Kenzie, how I love you, have loved you, how I worship you--”

But the truth of him was in his mind, the fall of his thoughts inside his worship of her, and she knew that, had always known, had always felt that the truth of his beauty was there, within, wordless, a language that could never be spoken aloud, and oh Goddess, what a blessing that I can see it--his fairness in the sight of heaven is the beauty of his soul, as quiet, as profound, as infinite as an evening star. And so you called him that; and as I saw him in that aspect, he was mine.

[witchqueenofthemoon]

[witchqueenofthemoon]

Dropped it real late last night 🖤🌹✨

BODY AND SOUL Part 30 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: I finished this chapter a few days ago but I’m hard at work on 31, hence me taking my time on getting it up. I appreciate my Duckenzies more than I can say, but it’s important for me to remind myself that this fic is, primarily, for me and my own fulfillment and happiness. I started it because I couldn’t find anything like it in the world and it was what I wanted to read. But don’t worry. I’m going to share everything with y’all to the end. I’m just really wrapped up in actually WORKING on it, you know? A reminder that this is Kenzie’s dress in this part, this is Duncan’s shirt. The first song Kenzie finds on the radio is Halsey’s HEAVEN IN HIDING, a song so wildly Duckenzie it took my breath the fuck away the first time I heard it, the second song is Halsey’s YOUNG GOD, which is also very Duckenzie. I decided to discard most of the canon scene from HOUSE OF CARDS where Duncan discusses his mother with Annette (mostly because I wanted Bill to be dead by the time they got back from the cabin); the only thing I really retained is her “from the moment I saw you…” dialogue. My!Duncan’s birth mother Valerie is a Connie Britton/Vivien Harmon AU, and rather than working for Annette as a cleaning lady (like the HoC canon), I made her a woman Annette only knew in passing. Duncan’s real father in my story is an unnamed Evan Peters/Tate AU. It was important to me to emphasize that Duncan hasn’t really changed as a person, rather the moral compass was in him all along and he’s chosen not to ignore it anymore. We all have a spectrum of morality in us, one that we choose from daily. Duncan’s soul is endlessly redeemable because his nature, like all of us, is determined by his choices. Annette calls her “Kenzie” for the first time in this chapter, and Duncan calls Madeline “Momby”; cue tears from me. I’m obsessed with the rose choker, so Duckenzie are obsessed with it too, and now it’s become an integral part of their sex life, more than any of their other toys. The young reporter who speaks to Kenzie is my own character; a bright young soul touched by the love she can see in Duckenzie, nothing more, nothing less (I may have thought of my sweet Diah @surprisebitchwrites a little bit for her, ngl). Kenzie and Duncan see the Triple Goddess this time because every time they fuck their sex is legitimately a holy act; sacred, and they’re waking up to that. If you’re reading this fic, please like and reblog the masterpost and the individual chapters–it helps people find my story because tumblr’s tags are so fucking broken and awful. Shout out to @goddess-of-inferno who has made not one but TWO Duckenzie moodboards over the past week, here and here. Jaz, you are an angel. When I finish the fic I’m going to make a masterpage for all the edits my Duckenzies have done for the fic, because I love and appreciate them all so fucking much and want any future Duckenzie fans to be able to find them. I love you all.

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