Lily of the Valley Writes

……

“More! I must have more! I’ve searched every book seller in Paris. Nothing.” He sat down with a sigh and took his drink.

“You klootzak, I don’t care about a stupid book.” Theo grumbled while he still listened.

“You don’t understand. I’ve found my equal, no, my better! The way he writes is incredible. It’s bloody brilliant! I’d give my left arm to write that way, Theo.” Arthur quieted and looked into his glass. “I feel so small when I read his work. Feel inadequate. Yet at the same time it inspires me to work harder, to become a better author than I have been. It feels like there’s fire in my veins that threatens to consume me, but I don’t mind one bit.” Arthur spoke reverently.

“You brilliant idiot.” Theo took a swig of his drink and looked at Arthur. “YOU created Sherlock. How can someone outdo you?”

“They just have.” Arthur handed the book to Theo who seemed wholly uninterested. Arthur finished his gin and tonic and got up. “I’ll find out who they are!”

“And do what?” Theo raised an eyebrow.

Arthur shrunk back into his seat, his expression twisting, “Be friends? Compare notes? Write together? Yes, we shall collaborate and produce the greatest novels ever written!”

Theo shook his head. He knew once Arthur got like this there was no reasoning with him. “Don’t. It’ll turn out badly.”

“You don’t know that ol’ chap. I’ll go to the publisher. That’ll make easy work of this.” He got up again and left, determined to follow his plan.

……

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?!” Arthur’s brows knit together in anger.

“I’m sorry sir, but that information is strictly confidential, just like your pen name is.” The clerk held her ground.

“Bugger….” Arthur said under his breath and left, but he wouldn’t be deterred.

……

Long sigh left Arthur. How many letters had he written to find out who this V.A. Mills was? Too many. Surely this would work? Of Course.

Sadly, none of his contacts knew who the mystery writer was either.

……

“Have you tried writing him directly?” Vincent chimed in during another one of Arthur’s rants during breakfast.

“What? No. Oh, I’m such an idiot. Thank you Vincent.”

“Of course.”

……

Hand shook the entire time he penned the letter. He did his best to make it sound normal, but he couldn’t remember how many times he had mentioned that he was a fan. Head hit his palm, was he being creepy? A stalker? Hopefully they would understand.

He sent the letter.

……

A week later….

Arthur danced around the dining room wearing the biggest smile he had ever worn. “He said he’s a fan of my work as well!” Another little dance, causing Theo to snicker.

He rushed off to answer his letter before Theo could say anything.

“He’s acting like a little school girl.” Theo mocked.

“Be nice Theo, he’s just happy.” Vincent corrected Theo.

……

He fidgeted as he neared the door to the man’s apartment. This was it, he was finally going to meet the person he had been writing to all these months. He hoped he would be enough to make whoever this was want to even talk to him. He was a sod and a cad after all. He cleared his throat and then knocked on the door.

Door opened slowly, to reveal a short young woman.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for V.A. Mills.” Arthur said politely.

“That’s me.”

“You’re a woman?!”

“As you see.”

“By Jove, that's the best surprise I’ve had all year!”

“Shall we sit and talk?”

Today, today you are supposed to go home. Inside I'm panicking. What will I do without you?

"Comte, it's time." She came to my door and interrupted my thoughts.

"Oh, Chérie. Forgive me, I was lost in thought."

I stood, she took my hand and we slowly made our way to the door. Everyone was there. Waiting, wondering if I had told her, if she had refused me. No. I'm simply a coward wishing that love didn't haunt me. Yet, I can't deny that I want you, that I need you.

"And I'm especially grateful to you, Comte. For your hospitality, your generosity, and most of all, your friendship." She finally came to me after speaking to everyone else. Though I counted us as friends, it stung to hear her say it when I wanted so much more.

She reached for the door, placing her hand on the handle. I could no longer control myself.

"Chérie, wait." I commanded.

She paused and turned around, confusion running across her beautiful face.

"What is it?"

"I...." Deep breath. "I have been fooling myself. Telling myself that I don't need you. Telling myself that you only see me as a friend." I backed her up against the door but then got down on one knee. "You see, every time I see you, my heart surrenders. You are the one I wish to be with night and day. I am inspired by your beauty and your unassuming grace. I would be a lucky man indeed were you to look my way and give me a chance. Please, Chérie, I love you. Stay. Be mine, take me as yours."

The room collectively held its breath till she burst into tears and kissed me. It was the sweetest kiss I had ever received.

“I’ve loved you forever, Comte.” She confessed. My heart soared and I smiled the first real smile since Eliza passed.

I tried to keep my pace to a normal walking one, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to know who she was. Now. At last I reached her, smiling brightly. Though her smile was polite, it brightened the whole room. It wasn’t till I took her hand and kissed it that she seemed to pay me any special attention.

“May I have this dance, Cherie?”

She nodded and found her way into my arms. One step after the other, our bodies grew closer, our eyes glued together. All the while I wondered if she could feel it too. I often debate with myself if I should have danced with her, yet every time I do, I take her hand without hesitation.

We whirled around the dance floor, much to the envy of everyone else there. It was as if we were in our own little world. One dance became two, two became many. I simply couldn’t let another man have her in his arms ever again.

One ball turned into two, two turned into picnics, sleepovers, and many many parties. I pretended to be a gentleman in public, but in private, I was my genuine self. The raw, untamed vampire that I am, was all hers. It was a love that could have lasted forever, should have lasted forever.

If only she had been a pureblood…. If only.

……

I remember it like it was yesterday. Dappled sunlight shone over us through the leaves of a large tree we were sitting under. The food had already been eaten and we were enjoying each other’s company.

…….

His quill dropped onto the paper, his other hand grasping at his chest. It hurt too much to continue. Old wounds opened, his heart bled, the shards of glass she had left were still buried deep in his heart and psyche. Tears streamed down his cheeks, something he rarely allowed himself.

"Calm yourself, Abel. The time for tears has long passed." He said as he walked to the door of his study.

Another wave of pain, more memories of her flooded through his mind. His hand braced against the door, as if he might fall, his fist grasping and holding onto his shirt.

More tears, now all he could do was whisper her name, "Eliza…"

……

He spent the night tossing and turning. The next morning he was up early, writing the tale of his fair Eliza.

……

It was my birthday, one I cannot forget.

"Open it Abel"

I looked at her curiously. I had told her not to get me anything. Really, there was no need. I was wealthy enough to get anything my heart desired. But, she was stubborn as usual, not that I was surprised.

Brightly wrapped paper tore open until the box lay bare. I opened it. Inside was a large gold watch. It was something I never thought I would want, but I wanted it now, if only because she had given it to me.

“Thank you, my darling. I will carry it with me, always.”

She smiled and giggled, giving me the brightest of smiles. If only the afternoon could have ended here, with this perfect picturesque moment. But alas, what happened next will forever be etched into my heart.

“Abel…. I don’t feel well.”

“Eliza?” I asked as her eyes closed.

“Eliza!” I yelled as she hit the soft earth.

I picked her up and ran as quickly as I could to a doctor.

……

A week later…

Wheels of a wheelchair creaked across the floor of the entrance of the mansion.

“Wait till you see it, my love.” I gushed. I had commissioned several artists over the last week to transform a part of the Eastern wing of the mansion.

“Abel, you didn’t need to do anything. Just spending time with you is enough.”

“Nonsense. Come, come, this is for you.”

I wheeled her into the wing, removing my hand from her eyes to reveal the surprise.

She gasped, “Abel! They look like all the places I wanted to travel!”

“I hired painters to transform this wing into your personal getaway.”

“I love it.” She pressed her lips together and forced a smile. I could tell she knew she didn’t have long. But I was going to make sure she was going to live a long long time.

I wheeled her into a room and we spent the afternoon going over all of the paintings, pretending we were in the places they depicted.

……

Three days later, her condition had deteriorated to where she couldn’t sit up without assistance. I knew I had to act then.

Eliza was in bed, looking at me with wide eyes, “You, you want to turn me?”

“Yes. I cannot offer you an everlasting life, but I can offer you a taste of it. Eliza, please, stay with me and become my bride.”

“Does it hurt?”

“It’s no different than usual. I’ll be right here, my love. Everything will be alright.”

“Ok, then please, turn me.”

I laid her down, fully uncovering her neck. The thirst in me began to call; the taste of her blood the most incredibly sweet thing I’ve ever tasted. My fangs protruded, her expression softening. I had drank from her many times before and she was familiar with the intense pleasure that accompanied it.

My fangs punctured her neck, a sharp inhale came from her. I began to drain her to the sounds of her moans. Little by little, she emptied: it was time. I cut my hand and gave her some of my blood, but something went wrong. She started coughing and her veins turned black.

“Eliza?” I asked, hoping, praying that she would answer me that she was alright.

Instead, her eyes shut and her features sunk in. “Eliza!” I howled as I recognized a turning gone wrong. “N-no, p-please, no.”

Her body paled and turned cold while I could barely breathe. My world shattered, my reason for being among them, gone. My lips were still bloody, from her. If I hadn’t…. If I didn’t….. Why, Eliza? I’m infinitely sorry.

The rest was a haze. I felt too much. Then I felt nothing at all. Every part of the man I was, that Eliza loved, was buried, wrapped up neatly into the veneer of a gentleman. At her funeral, I couldn’t look her father in the eye. I’m sure he knew it was somehow my fault that she had died. In truth, it was.

……

A knock from under his desk roused him from his thoughts, the pages below marked with smears of ink and tears.

“What?” Comte growled.

“Ah, now there’s my old friend.” A lethargic Leonardo laughed, till he got out from under the desk and saw the state of Comte. “You’re crying…”

Comte simply stood there and sighed. There was nothing to be done about it. Leonardo wrapped Comte up in a bear hug, only to hear Comte say, “I never want to love again.”

It was the end of the evening, the ball was winding down. Even the host was saying his goodbyes to everyone. Arthur and his girlfriend had ridden in the same carriage and Comte signaled them that he was ready to go.

She looked absolutely ravishing, especially in the dress Comte had made for her. Everyone knew, even Arthur, that Comte loved her. But alas, she had fallen for Arthur and they had been together since a little less than a month after she had arrived. Comte was a patient man: he knew he would just have to bide his time and either they would break up or he would find someone else. Until then, there was no harm in doting on her.

The three of them got into the carriage, with Arthur and his girlfriend sitting next to one another, Comte across from them.

She fidgeted, her cheeks ruddy. Arthur wouldn't look him in the eye. Something was up, but what?

"Comte... I was wondering..." Her eyes met his and his heart clenched.

"Yes, Chérie?"

Emboldened by the way Comte was looking at her, she moved to his lap. His eyes widened, but he dared not move.

"I see how you look at me. I can tell how you feel. I want you too. Arthur and I spoke about it. He's fine with sharing me." She twirled her hair with a coy smile that just did him in.

"Arthur, is this true?" Comte queried.

Arthur nodded, "Seems she fancies us both."

A gasp from the pureblood was quickly quieted by her lips meeting his. He groaned. This was what he lay awake at night imagining. He wasted no time in returning her kiss and threading his fingers through her hair. His grip tightened till it was a dull ache for her. Wanton moans rumbled in her throat as she submitted to his kisses.

Lips parted, her eyes begging for more.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well...."

......

Good God, this woman. What fantasies she had. What she revealed had Comte unable to see straight, not due to the content so much, but because she wanted them with him.

The three of them quickly made their way to Comte's bedroom. Ornate as it was, it also possessed the largest bed, making it ideal. Door shut behind them and Arthur smirked.

"Well go on, ol' chap. I'll join in momentarily."

Golden eyes roamed her form, heat building behind them. In a flash his arms were around her, his lips on her, tongue exploring her mouth. Her moans filled the room as their tongues twined, his hands undoing the buttons on her dress. Satin fell to the floor, Arthur now joining from behind.

Arthur's fingers traced the lacy negligee she wore before that too fell to the floor. He spread her legs and began to trace each thigh.

"Fingers or tongue, luv?"

But Comte wouldn't give him the satisfaction of an answer. Her mouth belonged to him now. Comte continued, his hands toying with her breasts, fingers focusing on her erect nipples.

She began to tremble, her legs shaking. Comte released and Arthur picked her up, setting her gingerly down on the bed.

"Now where were we, dove?" Arthur cooed as his finger traced her sex. But before she could answer, Comte kissed her deeply. Arthur's heart clenched. She seemed to be enjoying this far more than he would have thought. He couldn't take this sitting down. It was his turn to make her moan.

Arthur's fingers spread apart her folds, a smirk forming on his lips before he dived in. His tongue lapped at her sex, taking in the taste of her. Tongue found her bud and the room filled with a low moan. That's what he wanted to hear. More. He had to have more.

Fingers plunged deep inside her wet entrance. A squeal, the synchronized movement of his fingers and tongue and she broke her kisses with Comte. He could practically crow with pride, but he knew he had to finish the job.

Comte took to playing with her breasts, licking and sucking on the delicate silk mounds. She writhed between the two, her voice sounding uncontrollably while Arthur worked her closer and closer to a climax. At last he found the perfect spot and she came undone for him, singing the song of intimate pleasure.

Comte waited till she had come down from her bliss to ask, "Chérie, are you ready?"

She nodded, sitting up on the bed. Heated kiss between the two of them as they both worked on the buttons of his clothes. The floor quickly contained his vestments, his member springing forth from the tight confines of his pants.

She positioned herself over his length. Taking it into her hands, she stroked it till Comte moaned loudly. Oh what she did to him. He would give her heaven and earth if he could. But for tonight, he would give her one of her fantasies.

She took his member into her mouth, his fingers twining in her hair, grasping it, hard. He thrust into her mouth, eliciting a grunt. He continued, going a little deeper, mewls escaping her throat.

Arthur, taking her mewls as his cue, spread her legs apart. A swift divestment of his clothes later and he was ready to play his part. Tip found her wetness making him shudder. He plunged deep into her, a scream echoing in the room.

"Fuck me. You're so tight." He groaned before he began to pound into her.

Both entered her with the same rhythm, going deeper and deeper till they were both balls deep. Gagging noises and groans were all that was heard.

Comte's breathing became rapid, his eyes closing. He thrust quickly into her, a final few snaps of his hips and he came undone, cumming down her throat. She drank down what she could and panted as he withdrew from her.

It wasn't enough, no matter how many times Comte would have her, she truly needed to be his to satisfy him. He caressed her cheek before Arthur withdrew.

"Are you still up for what we discussed, Chérie?"

She nodded and moved to the edge of the bed. Comte fetched a bottle of oil and coated his manhood. Arthur lay on the bed, his heart pounding in anticipation. Next thing he knew, she was on top of him, riding him.

"Oh God, dove, you...." But he couldn't finish as she swiveled her hips and tightened her grip on him.

Comte came up from behind, the tip of his member touching her other entrance. He grasped her hips and began slowly working into her while Arthur thrust into her. Once Comte was all the way in, both moved in unison.

Her mewls filled the room, her nails digging into Arthur. Comte toyed with her breasts, teasing her nipples as his length plunged deeper.

"Arthur, bite me!" She cried out.

Arthur pulled her closer and bit down, hard. Comte watched, envy coursing through his veins. What he wouldn't give to be able to bite her. To drink from her. To truly make her belong to him.

Unearthly pleasure washed over her and she screamed in absolute bliss. Comte and Arthur came together, filling her with their seed, their voices joining with hers in pleasure.

.......

The next morning.....

The door opened with fine shoes clicking against the floor.

"Good morning M. le Comte. Breakfast is......" Sebastian stood there wide eyed, mouth agape. In Comte's bed lay the lady of the house snuggled up between both Comte and Arthur. He slowly backed out of the room and shut the door. This was going down in his notebook.

 Pieces of his memories flashed through his mind: the look on his brother’s face when they found  their parents, the flames, the way the world had slowed and sound had cut out. He put a hand up   against the frame of the window to brace himself from the sudden onslaught of the things that  haunted him. He clutched at his chest, grabbing hold of his already loosened tie.

His gaze darkened, as rage and guilt bubbled up within him. “I…will never….. never…. forgive   them.” He fumed into the night. Then the guilt hit him. If only he hadn’t left with Alyn to play, if  only he had followed his own rules and not indulged his younger brother, if only he had been the  protector he had always promised he would be. If only….  

He winced as his heart ached. He knew how much their parent’s deaths had affected Alyn, yet  Alyn would never let him in, not like he did before. He would keep trying, even teasing him to  get a rise out of him, just to make sure he still cared. He still did, and Leo took comfort in that  much.  

Alyn had been quite angry with him when he had quit the knight academy, but he could never  understand. He didn’t know who Leo saw that night, the instance that his quest began. Leo became a bureaucrat to find proof. That was all that mattered now: revenge on the man that he KNEW had killed their parents. His life didn’t matter anymore, nothing else mattered.  

He went to his desk to try to find another distraction from the thoughts that forever churned  through his mind. Instead, all he found were the various love letters that ladies around the palace   had left him. Didn’t they understand that he couldn’t love them? His heart had been consumed  by revenge long ago, and nothing would be able to save him from that. It was all just a game, a  farce to him, but it was all just a game to them too, as they never really loved him either. No, he  could never truly be the man that they really wanted, and they could never possess his heart the  way his unending quest did. It was better this way. A fling here and there, all fun and games for  the mutual pleasure of both parties, but never anything deeper.

He picked up one letter and laughed bitterly before tossing it aside. He got up and paced the  room, sighing every so often. Then, as he peered out the window again, a resplendent smile came  into his mind. The new princess of Wysteria’s smile to be exact. He smiled ruefully to himself,  as her face stayed in his mind’s eye. She was so good, so pure, and oh so much fun to tease. The  way she blushed and squeaked when he had told her that she would owe him a kiss if she didn’t  pay attention sent a small thrill through him. Yet, he was no good for her. He would push her away, as he did with all the others when they tried to get close to him. He couldn’t let them in.  He couldn’t let them see the monster called vengeance that possessed him. Yet, every time he saw  her smile, he felt the beast loosen its grip on him, if only for a moment.  

No…. he wouldn’t let even her distract him. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t. He got up and paced  around again before looking out the window and glaring back at the moon. Those bastards would  pay for what they did, no matter what it cost him. He picked up his book and began reading. This  would be another long night, but it was far better to spend his time tired and reading, than to  succumb to the nightmares. Yet, the night seemed just a little brighter than it usually did tonight.  Though he knew why, he refused to acknowledge that it was a smile and a sweet giggle that had   eased his suffering, if only for a few moments.

……

Several days earlier…

He was waiting for her, as he usually was. Dressed to the nines; he was going to take her out and spoil her rotten this evening. When she arrived, he handed her flowers. She smiled and all felt right with the world, that is, till it all came crashing down.

“Arthur, darling…. I,” She handed him back the flowers and shook her head. “I just can’t take this anymore. Your nightmares, waking me up in the middle of the night. Your fights with Sherlock, your depression and outright fear of sleep. I want a husband, not a child I have to take care of! It’s getting in the way of my work and you’re just…. Holding me back from doing all the things I want to do.”

Glass shattered and the man fell to his knees, taking her hands in his. “Please… I’ll do anything. Just don’t leave me. I love you!”

“I wish I could feel the same, Arthur. But I just can’t anymore.” She let his hands go and walked away.

Eyes watered, time slowed, her walking away took a painful eternity. His heart stood still in this moment, as did his pen.

……

Arthur wandered, dazed and confused for who knows how long. When he finally made it back to the mansion he simply fell into his bed, not bothering to take his shoes or coat off. There he lay, tears streaming down his face, till Sebastian came in. What the man wanted, Arthur cared not. He ignored him, simply rolling over into his bed and groaning.

“Sir Arthur? Are you ill? Is something the matter?” Sebastian inquired.

Silence.

Sebastian would wait, well till he heard footsteps that is.

Loud sigh along with a cross brow intruded.

“Poor Zakkenwasser got his heart ripped out and stomped on today at the park. Source of mine said he saw the whole thing. The lady was off with a new man not ten minutes later. Good riddance.”

“Thank you Master Theo. However…. What do we do about him?” Sebastian motioned at Arthur.

“Do? Nothing. He’ll snap out of it eventually.”

Theo, though ever observant he was, apparently had no idea just how smitten with her Arthur had been, nor just how broken and shattered his heart was.

……

Weeks passed with Arthur mainly staying in his room in bed or sitting at his desk doing nothing. Sleeping was almost nonexistent. Another week passed and Arthur attempted to write.

He stared at the blank paper with his pen in his hand.

Nothing.

Scribbles of nonsense followed by the page being ripped out violently, wadded up and discarded on the floor behind him.

“Bollocks. Let’s try that again.”

He began to write. ‘Sherlock looked over the crime scene……’

“Blast it all! Why can’t I get this scene down?” Another angrily wadded up paper discarded.

‘FECK, WANKER, PRAT, KNOB’ He wrote before again tearing the paper out and discarding it on the floor.

……

“Comte, I haven’t been teased about apples in I don’t know how long.” Isaac complained.

“Comte, I haven’t been run over in the middle of the night in ages” Leonardo joined in.

“Comte, my music has slumped due to a creative vacuum in the mansion.” Mozart chimed in.

“Theo, you know Arthur best. My talks with him never go the way I plan. Please, get him out of here and fix the problem.” A worried Comte implored.

A gruff huff and a nod later, Theo had a plan.

……

“Alright, Alright, I’ll have a seat. By Jove what’s gotten into you that you needed me at this particular bar? We never come here.” Arthur asked

“That’s the point, klootzak. A change of scenery.” Theo took a seat next to him and ordered them drinks.

A few rounds later and Arthur was staring into his glass dejectedly. “Theo, it’s just not the same without her….”

“Without who, handsome?” A woman’s voice queried.

His head shot up and eyes widened. By Jove this woman was a beauty.

“Well?” She asked.

“N-No one, gorgeous. Name’s Arthur. Might I have the name of the angel next to me?”

She giggled, her eyes sparkling. “Lily.”

The barkeep put glasses down for both of them. Arthur reached for one and felt a warm hand instead. Sparks of electricity flew through him, seeming to restart his heart.

From then on, all Theo ever heard Arthur talk about was Lily. He’d complain, but deep down, he was happy to see his dear friend happy.

Lips parted, eyes met, yet silence filled the room. Both began to tremble as their feelings overwhelmed them. Another kiss followed by Arthur wrapping his arms around her. Heat built between them, hands roamed before they moved onto the bed.

“Just stop me if….”

“Shhhh.. I want to.”

Arthur’s eyes went wide, his features sporting a ruddy hue.

Fingers traced the soft cloth, fiddling with it. Soft laughter, obi dropped to the floor. Fabric parted, lips found skin, a sharp breath inhaled.

“Oh, Arthur”

“I’m just getting started, luv.”

A soft thud as her back hit the mattress. Silk slowly discarded with fingers tracing every curve of her figure. Lips and tongue took their turn mapping her, every motion setting fire to her skin. Panting, her fingers twined into his cobalt locks. Tongue traced just above her sex, she moaned then groaned.

“Tell me, luv.”

“Arthur, this isn’t a game.”

“Oh but it is, my dear.” He purred, his fingers finding her nub.  

Her head fell back, a wanton moan rumbling in her throat. Fingers moved, pleasuring her. Gasps filled the room.

“Arthur.”

A laugh, fingers picking up their pace. Her fingers dug into the sheets.

“Arthur…..” Tongue found her nub and her hands balled up the sheets. Mewls filled the room as he explored her folds, the taste of her driving him wild.

“ARTHUR!”

Fingers found her entrance and she shivered. The spring within her kept tightening, the tension building with every motion.

“Please….”

“Good girl.” Tongue and fingers moved in unison, her eyes closing. The spring came completely undone, a yell echoing through the room as her body shook with pleasure. He kept going, gasps, moans as the pure pleasure of it all washed completely over her.

Next thing Arthur knew he was on his back, with the woman he loved on top of him with fire in her eyes. He was quickly divested of his shirt as he trembled. He had never seen her like this. Trousers were next until nothing was left.

His cheeks grew crimson, with her wearing the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

“I love you” They both cooed at the same time.

Hearts clenched as her hand met his cheek, their eyes meeting. She straddled him, he gasped and mewled.

“What was that, Arthur?”

He laughed and smiled, “You’re the only one I don’t mind losing to. Please, my dearest love.”

His eyes widened and he blinked slowly as she sank onto his member. Long breath out as she began to move her hips, his hands grasping her to thrust with her. She moved faster and he quivered.

“Oh, darling…”

Her hips swiveled and it felt like there wasn’t enough air. She took his hands and pinned them to the bed, fangs bared and he started seeing crimson. Her eyes widened, but she quickly went back to her movements.

He couldn’t take it any longer and rolled them over. She yelped as he thrust into her deep and hard.

“Bite me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His fangs sunk into her neck as he plunged into her vigorously. It was like no pleasure she had ever experienced, it washed over her over and over again. A few moments later Arthur too was riding waves of bliss.

……

Under the covers they lay together in each other's arms. Safety they had never known, he from the nightmares, she from her employers. Their journey the next day would be arduous. But for now, they slept in paradise.

They walked together around a garden that the public passed by. Flowers of all colors were everywhere, all perfectly manicured, just like her.

She turned to him, her smile full of regret. “Arthur, I… we…. Can’t. I can’t see you any longer.”

“Lily, what’s wrong? Why? What did I do? Whatever it is I’ll change it, I promise! Just please, let me see you!” Arthur was on his knees, his expensive suit dirtying.

She looked down at him, placing her hand on his cheek, “No, you did nothing wrong. You see, I’m a lady of the night. I don’t own myself.”

He got up, still holding her hand to his cheek, “Whatever it costs, I’ll pay. I want you to have your freedom.”

“Arthur, it’s more money than you could ever afford.” She sighed.

“What if we….”

And so, a plan was hatched, though if they were caught, they would both suffer greatly.

……

That night, they found one another and made a break for it.

Hiding behind some pots at a store, they both held their breaths till the guard left.

“Ready?” Arthur squeezed her hand.

“Yes” She squeezed back and they took off. Feet thudded against the stone road as they ran as fast as they could.

“There they are!” A guard yelled and took off after them.

“Bollocks! Go, go! I’ll hold him off!” Arthur took a fighting stance and balled up his fists.

She took off as quickly as she could while in a kimono.

Thwack. Crack. Thud. Down the guard went with one hit to the jaw, it now shattered with the guard groaning on the pavement.

Arthur took off and caught up to her. They were almost there. But just as they were about to reach the boat, she was grabbed from behind with a yelp.

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks. The man had a knife to her throat.

“Give me all your money or I’ll just kill her here. There’s no telling what awaits her at the brothel.”

Arthur tensed. Sure he could use his increased strength or speed, but it may not be fast enough.

The next thing he knew the man grunted and fell over, releasing her. Arthur blinked in confusion as Lily produced a reddened blade from her now spotted kimono.

“Let’s go, we don’t have time!” Lily emphasized. “I’ll explain later.”

“Alright.” He took her hand and they at long last, made it to the ship. They were quickly ushered on and shown to one of the finest rooms.

……

The room was full of opulent furniture, the finest money could buy. It even had a bed, fit for two people to sleep in.

Neither of them said anything till the ship departed and they were a long way from Japan.

“Darling, come here, you’re safe now.” Arthur motioned for her to come sit with him on the bed.

She hesitated at first, looking at her blood stained kimono. Just how many lives had she taken over the years? How many had she killed in the name of earning her freedom?

“Arthur, there’s so much I need to tell you.”

“Not now. Now you need to be in my arms relaxing.”

She went to him and she felt every bit of tension drain out of her.

Their eyes met and electricity frizzled. Their lips met and time stood still.

Their love may not have been a conventional one, but it was true all the same.

 “Hello Arthur, Comte.”

“Chérie, good to see you well.”

Arthur just breathed, nodded and waited. 

“Is that a way to greet an old friend? Hmm?”She smiled.

“We weren’t just friends.” Arthur growled. 

“I see you haven’t changed.” She made her goodbyes with everyone. Sweet, simple, goodbyes. She came back to him, pausing.

“I love you. Please -” Arthur began to sink to his knees.

But, she pulled him up, “I know… and I can’t stay.”

“You mean you won’t.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Goodbye Arthur.”

“G-Goodbye.” Tears started to form in his ocean hues. 

She turned away and grabbed her suitcase. Everything slowed, each footstep towards the door felt like a tortuous eternity. He wanted to scream, to grab her and run. To go with her. Anything, anything to keep her from leaving his life forever. But by the time he got the courage up to do something, the door clicked shut. It was over. She was gone.

He stood there as the others departed. Time froze after they were gone. All he could see was the door. He ran and opened it, only to see the other side of the hallway. He fell to his knees and wailed. The rest after that was just a blur.

……

He woke up in bed, feverish. Tossing and turning he kept waking up hoping to find it was nothing but a bad dream. But it wasn’t. It was real. She was gone.

The next morning he went to his desk to work on his novel. Nothing. His hand was too shaky to write, his tears wet the pages too much. 

Weeks later and the only thing he could do was write about her. 

‘My soul was on fire for you

You were my muse

My beautiful darling

Yet you disappeared

Left me out in the cold

Where do I go now?

My soul was on fire for you

I felt so alive with you

Why did you have to go?

It’s gotten so cold without you

My heart is breaking down

Soul is freezing

I wish I had never met you.’

A knock at the door broke him out of his writing and crying. He wiped away his tears and cleared his throat. “Come in.”

Theo opened the door and motioned for Arthur to come with him, “Get your coat, you klootzak, we’re going drinking.”

Arthur sighed but got his coat. ”I’m not much for drinking at the moment, Theo.”

“She’s not coming back, Arthur. It’s time to drink away your sorrows and find a new girl.”

“But….” Arthur couldn’t finish the sentence, rather he hugged Theo and began to weep. 

Theo sighed and pat Arthur’s back. “It’ll be ok. I promise.”

……

“I bring worlds to life, characters that are beloved around the globe. Yet the only one anyone seems to know is that blasted detective! I wish to be rid of him! Forever! No one knows Arthur the poet, or the doctor, or the man who wrote science fiction. No, just old Sherlock.” Arthur sighed and took another gulp of his drink.

“I’m brilliant too. Can beat a man at any game. You’ve seen it Theo. But it didn’t do me any good in my life, nor is it doing me any good in this one. Why? Why have these gifts if they don’t do me any good? I’m still alone…. Was in my last life, still am now.”

He sighed dejectedly and finished his drink, motioning for another. “I chase skirts around all day long… but really…. Really…. I’m chasing away the ones who would hurt me. My heart is fragile enough as it is. I don’t think I’d survive a broken heart again. Not after….” His mind flitted to the young man that died asking for more Sherlock. Clutching his chest, he drank another mouthful, hoping to wash away the pain.

“Theo…. I don’t want to die alone again…. I don’t want to be alone for yet another lifetime….” His voice quivered, tears streaming down his face. “What good was any of it? I’m still alone in the end.”

Theo frowned, this was not his strong suit. Reaching over, he pat Arthur’s back, only for the bloke to pull him in for a hug, spilling his drink on him. “You klootzak!” Theo grumbled and pushed Arthur away. After cleaning up, Arthur looked as if he were about to pass out.

“Come on, let’s get you back to your room.” Theo mumbled and threw Arthur over his shoulder.

“I’m always alone…. So…. empty and alone….” Arthur slurred, but Theo understood.

Theo had chosen to be alone to further his brother’s career. Gruff exterior was just to keep the ladies away, same as Arthur’s flirting. Seems they weren’t that different after all. A soft sigh and a faint whisper, “You’re not alone Arthur.”

“Oh yeah? Vic doesn’t count…”

“Not your dog, you klootzak, me. You have me. And you always will.”

“Artie! So glad to see you here!” Dazai clapped him on the back which only elicited a grunt. The hell was this cad doing here?!

“He’s drunk, the klootzak. Leave him alone to drown.” Theo chimed in, trying to buy his friend a little relief.

Dazai didn’t get the hint. Rather, he sat right next to Arthur and smiled a cheshire’s smile. “So Artie, how goes Sherlock?”

Theo sighed, “Here we go…”

“Sherlock? Sherlock?! That’s all any of you blasted people want to know about! It’s never “how are you, Arthur? It’s never, “how is your new novel?” or “how’s the poetry going?” No! All you bastards want to know about is that tosser of a detective!” Arthur was on his feet now, his face twisted, eyes full of rage. He finished off his last drink, slamming it against the counter.

“Put ‘em up!” Arthur demanded as he raised his own fists in the air.

“Arthur, Arthur.” A soft voice cooed. His gaze met hers and his hands dropped. “Come on Arthur, spend the night with us…..” She said before sniffing and letting his arm go. “Eww, you reek! Go home!” Disgusted, she walked away.

“Hey! All you care about is the pleasure I give you and my pocket book! None of you scrubbers really care about me. Bollocks, no one really cares about the real Arthur.” Dejected, he sat down and motioned for another drink. But that drink would not come.

……

How he found his way home, he didn’t know. He just remembered a little bit of Dutch and the rest was quite the blur.

The room spun as he sat up and walked. Footfalls were erratic, doors opened and closed. He found himself in a large room, swords lining the wall, practice dummies in one corner of the room.

Then, a voice only he could hear, one he knew far too well, “Hello Arthur.”

“Blast it! It’s not enough that I have to deal with you while I write. Not enough that everyone loves you and not me. Feck you…. You wanker of a detective.”

“I see the drink loves you this evening. Drowning your sorrows again? Hmmm? Never does work, as you know. What was it this time? Some girl? Old memories haunting you too much? Ah…. no, judging by the ink smudges on the brim of your sleeve, writer’s block. Nothing to get upset about.”

“Sure, you say that. But without you…. I’m…..nothing…… No one wants Arthur, they just want Sherlock. They all smile so much for you, yet they scowl for me.”

“True. You need me, Arthur. If only I had my own body.”

“I don’t need you! You… you…. bugger!”

“Come now, you can do better than that you daft pillock.”

Arthur raised his fists and swung through the air. Sherlock simply laughed and moved around the room, prompting more swinging.

Crashing sounds filled the room as Arthur ran into sword displays and training dummies alike.

“What in the blazes is going on?!” Theo roared as he entered the room, only to hear Arthur cursing at that blasted detective again.

Moving in front of Arthur, it was easy to dodge his attempts to punch him. He sighed, not this again.

Thwack! Thud! Down Arthur went. Another sigh as Theo picked up his drunkard of a friend.

“Back to bed with you…”

……

Late the next morning….

“Theo, why have I got a black eye?”

“If you really want to know what happened last night you’ll have to walk King for a week.”

It was another anniversary, THE anniversary of the death he wished he could have prevented the most. It was still vivid in his mind, though the colors now muted, the only memories that were bright now were before the lad had died. Strange that the man he had created for this child was now the ghost that plagued him everywhere. Any time he heard his own name it was tied to his detective’s: a shackle that reminded him of just how badly he had failed, how truly inadequate of a doctor he had been. The exiguous amount of sleep he got each night due to the guilt he burdened himself with, something he just couldn’t let go of.

The dream was always the same, a world in shades of umber, of screams as the moments were relived repeatedly. Begging, pleading for it to stop, but no one would hear him, no one ever could. It began in the room, the child asking for another story, yet he looked so worn down. Then he simply asked to sleep and time slowed. The child’s hand fell to the bed, the light going out in his eyes, his last breath exhaled as he had left this world.

The moments flashed through his mind again, his hands shook as he sat down and leaned over his latest manuscript. Fingers found his hair and gripped tightly, drops of rain falling to the inked pages. Teeth grit as he tried desperately to hold it in, to no avail. Black ran across the pages as more tears fell, his breathing erratic as the world spun around him.

The child’s voice came back, “When is Mr. Holmes going to solve another mystery?!”

Heart clenched, drops became streams, the recollections continuing to torment his mind.

“I’m sorry…” Choked whisper left his lips, it being all he could manage.

He couldn’t take it anymore, the deluge of tears, the stabbing in his chest. He shot up out of his chair, grabbing his coat and rushing out the door with it. Wiping away what was left of the water in his eyes, he trudged down the hall, till a voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Off to get sloshed, again?”

Theo… damn his timing. “Off to enjoy an evening at the pub, nothing strange about that.” His voice cracked, giving everything away as his watered azurite eyes stayed peeled on the floor.

Just as the sun was creeping up the sky, rations were being handed out in the Takeda-Usegui camp, rations that didn’t quite taste right. No one complained, they were happy to be getting food at all with how this campaign was going. The Oda had pushed them back to their breaking point. This would be their last stand.

...

The sun was higher in the sky now, the smell of iron and decay in the air. Fires roared across the battlefield, the stench of death surrounding all. Cries, shouts, metal clashing, the sounds of the last struggles of mens’ lives, it painted a scene that was all too common in this era.

...

Sasuke hunched over, coughing into his hand, crimson running down his glove. Eyes widened. No. No! He had to live! There was this battle to be fought, Yukimura had to live, Kenshin too. There was only one explanation for what was happening to him, one that made his blood run cold.

“Yukimura… I’ve been poisoned. Get back to the base camp as quickly as you can, get into my supplies. I don’t have much of the antidote, but there should be enough for the doctors to start making more. Please, save them first, then come back for me.” Another cough, more rose-colored liquid fell to the ground.

“....You trust me that much?” Yuki replied, his eyes misting over as he saw his BFF struggling to breathe.

“Unequivocally.” His last word before he collapsed to the ground.

Body dragged to other corpses, Sasuke well hidden now. Footfalls hurried away with a prayer for a speedy return. So many thoughts swirled in his mind as the moments ticked by, as his heart began to slow. It started in his fingers: the cold, burning before becoming numb. Slower still, the ka-thump of his heart grew weaker, the passage of time all but an illusion. The colors of the world began to fade, the vibrant hues making way for the blacks and whites of eyes that would never see again. They closed, plunging him into darkness.

…

His body was moved to a futon in the camp, Yukimura looking over him as the doctors administered the antidote, as they had for so many before him. Nothing. Knees hit the soft earth, it began to rain from tawny skies.

“Sasuke! You promised! Best friends, forever…” The last whimpered as his lip quivered.