Yesterday begins to feel like a dream. A nightmare? A dream or a nightmare? A dream AND a nightmare? Oh, she just doesn't know. What she does know is that this is the most comfortable bed she has ever been in, that her body feels sated, clean and pure and that the sound of the piano drifting into her boudoir comforts her worried soul. She knows one more thing for sure – whether last night was a dream, a nightmare or stark reality, it ended on a note where she had done well and was cared for. She has nothing to be afraid of right now. Her body and her mind relax. There is much to think on, and many uncomfortable questions to both ask and find the answer to, but the time for that is not now. She really deserves a break, she thinks. Let's just pretend to be Beauty, and that the Beast is currently in human form so tat she may enjoy it. Come to think of it, that may not be far from the truth.
Slowly twisting her body she manages to sit up on the side of the bed, carefully scanning the room with her blanket wrapped around her bare shoulders. There on the night stand next to the bed are a few items of clothing, neatly folded. They seem to be the source of the lavender scent she realizes, as she notices small cloth bags stuffed in-between every fold. Her assumption is confirmed when she reaches out to touch one of the little bags, a fresh waft of lavender filling her nostrils.
She stands up, barefoot on the plush, thick carpet; her toes dig into the soft fibers and make her feel like she is walking on air, or at least on fluffy clouds. Carefully unfolding the items left for her she finds that they consist of a pair of white lace boy shorts, a beautiful dove grey silk and cotton chemise and a rather revealing but tasteful and warming full length robe, made from the sheerest grey cotton and adorned with pink silk trimmings. So, not really clothes for a hike in the woods, or even for company, but a high class version of what one would wear on a long leisurely Sunday spent lounging indoors.
A great improvement compared to the skimpy things he had her wear last night, she muses, beautiful as they were they still made her feel more naked than dressed. It comes as no surprise to her as she slips into the new garments that they fit her perfectly, hugging her in all the right places while staying exceedingly comfortable. Catching a glance of herself in the full sized mirror covering the bathroom door, she can see that besides being comfortable the clothes flatter her, making her look enticing but not slutty, like a lady of a century long past taking her rest within the confinements of her own home. She slips her feet into the 3 inch mules, dove grey and adorned with ostrich feathers they make her feel like she is playing a part in a Marilyn Monroe movie. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, she chuckles to herself as er reflection reveals that she looks exactly like she feels, her sleepy strawberry blonde hair like a cloud around her head. She smiles to herself at his perfect compromise between the revealing things he likes to see her in and clothing that will make her feel comfortable, albeit like an actress.
With that thought she steps into the bathroom and splashes her face with cold water to get the last vestiges of sleep to leave her features and opens the packaging around a new tooth brush supplied for her, she assumes, to clean her teeth and refresh her sleepy breath. She notices a few basic make-up items placed above the faucet and hardly hesitates at all before adding a layer of mascara to her long lashes and nude gloss to her lips. Is she making herself pretty for her captor? She squashes the thought. After a few strokes of the tick brush provided, her strawberry curls settle from mad bed hair into a more lady-like coiffure. Finally she feels ready to face him. She assumes it will only be him. Her memory of last night distinctly tells her that his brother bid her farewell before he left, in a way that indicated something less temporary than just for the remainder of the evening.
She does not know whether to be happy or sad about this. His brother (Kol, was it not?) touched her in places previously unknown to her, and not only in a physical sense. For sure the two brothers introduced her to a whole new realm of physical experiences last night, she blushes when she thinks of it and her reactions to it. But still, when she thinks of Kol what she remembers most is how soft his eyes turned when he looked at her right before he left, and how 'Kitten', the pet name he gave her, sounded like a caress on his tongue.
No, she will not allow herself to dwell on this right now. Pleasant as the thoughts are, they are also very disturbing. A large part of her personality is objecting fiercely to her warm fuzzy feelings towards a man whose first contact with her was to dominate her completely, cane her, tie her down and possess her every humanly possible way. Her feelings towards Elijah were easier to handle. He snuck under her skin slowly, increasing his domination day by day until the day before yesterday when he pushed her to the point of complete submission. She knows he cares for her, feels true affection and to some degree even pride for her, but his voice never takes on the tinge of warm care Kol's' did when he departed, his eyes never feel like they are caressing her gently as they scan her naked flesh. No, she cannot think about this right now. She does not belong to Kol. She belongs to Elijah, her Master.
She is walking towards the bedroom door as this thought strikes her, and she freezes in the middle of taking a step. The thought had come unbidden, without forceful prodding. Is this how she really feels? Does she belong to him? It goes against anything she has ever learned, everything she has believed to be true about her personality. Inside her brain a part of her bucks and fights the thought like a wild horse fighting its first saddle, while another part takes comfort in the safety and belonging of it all, tired of the pain and strife. At the moment she is still unsure of which part that will win out in the end, they are both alive and kicking. Shaking her head to clear her mind, unwilling to release her feeling of comfort at least for the moment, she drowns the whinnies of the wild horse, opens the door and carefully steps out into the hallway, following the sound of the beautiful piano music that will lead her to her Master.
o-o-o-o-o-o
He currently found himself completely inside the music streaming from his Steinway Baby Grand, having opted for one of Wolfgang's later pieces that he so enjoyed when his reverie was interrupted, though not unpleasantly so, by the gentle arrival of his little one. She did not try to interrupt him, merely walked up to the piano and leaned her elbows on top of it, closing her eyes and enjoying the sad and longing timbre of the music. Once the final note reached its vibrating conclusion she sighed deeply and opened her eyes, looking straight at him while clearly still lost in the music.
'I have always enjoyed Mozart so much, and this piece in particular is so hauntingly beautiful. He was dying when he wrote it, was he not?' Elijah felt his eyebrows rise to meet his hairline in surprise at her comment. His little one has a taste and interest in the fine arts, hmm? 'Yes, he was.' He responds 'But unlike his final piece for orchestra, he managed to finish the last piano concerto. I remember I had to practically force my blood into him so that he would stay lucid enough to finish it; it would have been a shame to leave this piece undone. I wasn't in town when he caught the final flu though – I have always regretted not to be able to save Requiem.'
'YOU are the reason Concerto 27 is complete?' She could not hide her shock. 'You KNEW Mozart?'
He nods. 'Of course I did. Wolfgang was a good friend of mine, a true genius. He was the main reason I stayed in Vienna for the last half of the 18th century. Wonderfully skilled but incredibly troubled, Wolfgang was.' He sighs at the memory. 'I even offered to turn him, once it was clear his health would not allow him to live a full life, but he refused. He said to me; Elijah, great art is born from great pain, and there is no greater pain than our mortality.' He sighs deeply at the memory. Losing people you care about truly does not become easier with time. 'He did concede for me to heal him with my blood when the pain got too bad though.'
'Who else did you meet, how did they affect you? And, when applicable, how did you affect them?'
She settles comfortably into the large leather couch, sincerely interested and this simple question leads to several hours of talking, Elijah reminiscing about his meetings with Saliero, Beethoven, Bach, Brahms, Verdi, Wagner, Puccini and many, many more of the great composers. The retelling of is time with Chopin deserved a special mention. It is not just a retelling, with every name came a discussion about the man and his works, debating the finer points and what could have been improved upon. The girl had very clear views and could argue them well, at times bringing angles into the discussion that were completely novel to him. This truly did not happen often and Elijah found that he enjoyed himself immensely.
Around lunch time he heated a pre-made meal for her and filled a cup of blood for himself and then returned to the couch, their conversation continued all through the afternoon. Topics swung from music to great writers, both of prose and of poetry. His Little One turned out to be very well read and a delight to argue te finer points with. He especially took joy in their foray into modern psychology, discussing the works of Freud and Jung, dissecting their theories and finding a middle ground. The work of the Russian Pavlov took up the better part of an hour. Can he really be considered to be the father of cognitive therapy after his discovery, and proving, of the existence of the "conditioned reflex"? Well, the nobel prize commitee seemed to think so, but were they right No, there certainly was not a lack of topics during their conversation. Elijah found himself increasingly enamored with his little find. He had released her from calling him 'Master' early on in the discussion, instead they held a very interesting and high flying conversation between equals, about incredibly interesting and diverse subjects where they were sometimes on the same side and sometimes fervently opposed. Who would have thought this little creature had it in her to fill his needs on SO many levels? He smiles fondly at her.
'You truly are a treasure, Little One' he says, during a short lull in the conversation, leaning over to kiss her hair. 'I count myself lucky to have found you.'
Moving closer to her he wraps his arm around her small body, she snuggles into his chest like the little doll he thinks of her as, languidly like the kitten Kol likens her to. Gently embracing her and stroking her hair he places a soft kiss on the tip of her nose and wraps his arms tighter around her. She is such a tiny creature, sometimes he cannot help but feel protective of her. Her small stature combined with her luscious curves makes her look like a perfect miniature of a woman, perhaps 80% of life size; it was one of the things that had interested him about her when he first encountered her. Even at that very first moment as she was being dragged out of the bar the unbidden thought of whether or not a miniature woman is miniature in all aspects of her physiology entered his mind.
She has been in his care for more than a week now, closer to ten days, and he is on his third day after finally exploring and finding the answer to his original question. So now he knows, she may be miniature but she is all woman. Yes, she may be miniature in all aspects, but yet she is able expand further when exhilarated than most women he has encountered in his long life. Her exterior is very appealing, in fact downright arousing. Thankfully she has turned out to be a natural when it comes to submitting to his, and his youngest brothers', needs and wants. On top of this already near perfect picture for a distraction, she has turned out to be well read and cultured, an interesting conversation partner. The final piece of the puzzle, only gleaned today, raised her rank inside his old fashioned mind from stress reliever to companion. A woman of her caliber would not be an embarrassment on is arm at the various business, social and cultural functions he still had to attend, rather the diametric opposite. Beauty, charm, brains and class – this is a very rare combination in both genders. He did not exaggerate in his compliment to her; he does count himself lucky to have found her.
For just one second he feels a pang of guilt. It had not avoided his notice that a very special chemistry came to play between his Little One and his baby brother. Kol tried his best to hide it, in some instances even becoming more brutal and dominant than he was normally wont to be (and that is really saying something, when it comes to Kol…), yet behind the mask surprising and unexpected feelings emerged. It was clearly entirely subconscious, much like is own flabbergasted reaction when he had unexpectedly found himself in the presence of Her just over a year ago. It took him several weeks before he could start to sort out the feelings and thoughts that had rushed through his mind at the time.
Yesterdays' final moments, in particular, were when Kol's mask slipped. For a moment it seemed like the two of them were alone in the room, perhaps even alone in the world. The moment when his brother had gently corrected their newly broken sub, a girl who had recently received harsh punishment for slipping on the proper form of address when Kol corrected her to use his name instead of 'Master'; that moment said it all.
So yes, Elijah feels a pang of guilt. After thinking things through last night and this morning he had come to the conclusion that he would give his Little One to Kol, allowing them to develop whatever was there without his brother needing to ask for her. He was sure Kol was even now trying to figure out an acceptable way of bringing the subject up, he knew he would have done the same had the situation been reversed. But, then today happened. The girl grew so much in his esteem today that he was suddenly loath to give her up so soon. How often does one come across the perfect companion material after all? Lover, submissive, sexual relief – those were a dime a dozen, but a true, refined concubine? Very rare indeed, especially in this day and age.
Thus the feeling of guilt, as he knew he would not hand her over to his baby brother anytime soon, no matter what connection had formed between them. He stilled his troubled conscience by deciding to offer Kol a more permanent part of their life than the offer of co-training entailed. Although she was his, and would receive further training not only in submission but in the ways of the old world to prepare her for the many public tasks ahead, whenever he did not have a direct need of her, socially or physically, he would leave her in Kol's' hands. Yes, this was an acceptable compromise, he thought. Perhaps not a very 21'st century compromise, but then again, neither he nor his brother were from the 21st century. He smiled to himself.
Sooner or later he would distance himself from her as the time came to concentrate on Her, to re-enter Her life. That time should only be a few years off – he will give his Little One to his brother then, he decides. Not now. Yes, that will do. Until then he will be willing to share, but not give her up.
She has fallen asleep while he was lost in his thoughts. He leans back comfortably into the couch and brings her slight body with him, embracing her and keeping her warm. She snuggles closer to him in her sleep, completely at home in his arms. She is calm and protected from all of the world's dangers, except perhaps the most dangerous of all, for her. Him.
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