Feel For You

[Arabella Balfour]

Only so many times
I can say I long for you
The lily among the thorns
The prey among the wolves..

Barely cold in her grave
Barely warm in my bed
Settling for a draw tonight
Puppet girl, your strings are mine

"Will that be all, Mistress?"

"Yes, Rose. Goodnight."

Arabella watched her employee silently depart the room. Rose had been summoned to report the lastest comings and goings of the Maison. Alone now with her thoughts, she allowed her rigid posture to relax. The day had been long and tiring. She was experiencing a lot of that lately.

Kicking off her high heels and unzipping her dress, she stepped out of the garment and tossed it over the back of a chair. Clad in her undergarments, she made her way into the bathroom and stood before the mirror. She looked as tired as she felt. Opening the medicine cabinet she took out a prescription bottle and scanned the label, making sure it was the correct one.

She was sick. There was no way around it, no need to hide the truth any longer. Time had caught up with her. Her game of spending the last two centuries on the brink of life and undeath had taken its toll. Her doctor had been puzzled, saying that from her blood tests that she should be an old woman. Her blood cells had become so fragile that they were breaking down rapidly now. She was going to die.

Warm brown eyes flicked up to the image of the young woman in the mirror. She didn't look a day past twenty-one. Yet she may as well be a reanimated corpse. Disgusted and terrified of what was to come, uncertain of what she wanted, she was a wreck. She held it together well in front of everyone. None of her employees had the least idea that she may even need so much as an aspirin. She been out to dinner with Fiona and Michele. She'd been by to see Byron. None of them had seemed to notice.

Maybe Byron had. He probably knew her better than anyone. He would definately know that she was keeping something from him, even if he didn't know what. In fact, he was probably the one person she should talk to. She just didn't know quite how to tell someone she had known for two-hundred years that she was dying.

Wiping a tear away from her eyes, Arabella finished stripping down and turned on a hot shower. Her skin felt so cold and clammy to her. She felt as if she were already in the grave, a corpse waiting to recognize its own death and she just wanted to be warm again. When the water was close to scalding and steam had fogged the enitre bathroom, she stepped into the shower and sat in a rumpled heap on the tile floor. The heat felt good, it was almost like a synthetic fix of life in her cold body..

[Byron Legard]

Though she did not hear it, the door to Bella's apartment clicked open. Heavy footfalls crushed the plush carpet that lined her floor as a figure entered, casting a lazy glance around the room. He could hear the sound of running water, the shower. Deciding to wait until the mistress of the house emerged of her own accord, he sat down on an elegant chaise long. A short while passed and yet still the lady Arabella had not materialized. Growing curious, the figure stood and paced to the bathroom, knocking twice on the door before stepping inside.

[Arabella Balfour]

Long past feeling sorry for herself, Arabella had risen and showered. She was rinsing the soap from her body when a shadow moved over her. She was not alone. It didn't frighten her, she knew who it was. Had it been an enemy she'd already be dead. She turned off the water and emerged from the shower, heedless of her state of undress.

Wordlessly she stepped directly in front of her Prince and reached around him for a towel, wrapping it about her petite form. "Hello, mon coeur. What brings you..?"

[Byron Legard]

“You know why I am here” Byron said, severe, cutting her off mid sentence.

“Rose has been in contact with me.”

[Arabella Balfour]

Her mouth snapped shut. There really wasn't any point in asking him what he had been contacted about. It was clear to her that he knew everything. She was furious with Rose for all of a second, feeling a sense of betrayal, but then, that was her job wasn't it. An informer for the Prince, even if it meant informing the Prince of what her Mistress would remain silent about.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." She sighed deeply. Still holding the towel at her front, Arabella backed away towards the closet doors. She opened the door and flipped on the light, grabbing a robe. She slid the red satin over her shoulder and dropped the towel, wrapping the belt around her waist.

"What would have had me say..?"

[Byron Legard]

“You have been with me for centuries now. I had hoped that our friendship warranted honesty enough for you to confide in me.”

Byron folded his arms over his chest, regarding Arabella with a slight frown.

“What were you planning on doing... ignoring it?”

[Arabella Balfour]

Leaning against the doorway, Arabella was instantly contrite. She hadn't really meant to be dishonest. She was yet clinging to the futile hope that the doctor could be wrong. That the medicines that she had been prescribed would strengthen her blood and make her stronger. That she could somehow live. She'd been alive for so long now that she was terrified of death in a way that normal mortals couldn't possibly understand. She feared oblivion.

"I.. I don't know. I suppose saying the words only makes them more real. I just hoped.. it wasn't true. "

Her hands went up and covered her face. She felt shamed. It was her responsibility to keep her Prince informed, and she had failed utterly. The only good outcome was that she had trained Rose well, to be loyal to Byron even if it meant going above her Mistress.

"I'm sorry..."

[Byron Legard]

“...Come. Let us sit.” Byron returned to the lounge, resuming his recline on the chaise long. He watched Arabella closely as she moved, sensing her frailty. Sighing, he shook his head and gave the couch a pat, indicating that she should sit by him. “What am I to do with you, hm?”

[Arabella Balfour]

She padded over to the couch barefoot and gracefully sank down beside her Prince. It was useless though, as they were informal she gave in to what she wanted most and curled up against his side, tucking herself under his arm and wrapping her arms around him. Holding tight to Byron, Arabella closed her eyes and let his strength wash over her, feeling protected.

"It's no good is it? My time is up.." After a moment, her tight hold eased into a more relaxed embrace. Lifting her face, Arabella peered up at Byron trying to read the truth in his expression, because she knew he would be able to tell.

[Byron Legard]

Slowly, Byron nodded.

“There was only so long that I could delay the inevitable.”

What the inevitable was, of course, was entirely dependent on Arabella. Two paths stretched out in front of her, both of them leading to her death – though one, as blasphemous as it was, would allow her to live on into eternity.

[Arabella Balfour]

Suddenly she was a shy young girl again, decades ago.
Same city.

Same man.

Same question.

Back then she had yet to get over her terror of the life presented to her. She had been afraid of her own shadow on the street, terrified that one of her clients would decide that the knowledge she carried endangered the Game and that she had to be silenced. Fortune smiled on her and she wound up being in the service of the Prince and no longer needing to fear much, for she was under his protection. There she remained. When faced with the option of forever.. she had politely declined. She wasn't reviled. She wasn't afraid of pain. She was afraid she would die and be lost to oblivion, that much hadn't changed.

"You asked me.. once before. Who was I to refuse my Prince?", she laughed, without much mirth.

"And yet you let me decline. I suppose I was too young. Too afraid.", Arabella paused and looked up.

"I'm not afraid anymore.."

[Byron Legard]

Many men and women were not afforded the luxury of choice when it came to the Embrace. Kindred could be ruthless, selfish creatures and would take and change who they desired. Arabella was fortunate that Byron was not so fickle. He had not been given the choice himself and so fully understood the necessity that others were.

“Is there anything you wish to do or see before the decision is made final?”

[Arabella Balfour]

She thought about it, for long moments. Knowing that, once decided, she would not have another opportunity. What else could she possibly desire to see or do that she hadn't had the chance to do in two hundred years? It seemed silly to her. If she hadn't had the inclination to do so before now, did she really need to see anything that badly? The answer was no. She had been given more years of life and light than most mortals could ever dream of. She was not afraid to take this last step anymore.

"No, mon coeur. There is nothing I haven't already been given time enough for."

[Byron Legard]

“Very well...”

There was a grave finality to Byron's voice. A merciful part of him – small as it was – had always thought it would be best to spare 'Bella the Embrace, that she would have accepted it for the wrong reasons... as if there were any right reasons. She had been given centuries enough to reach her conclusion, and he wouldn't do her the disrespect of challenging her decision.

“Here, and now, then?”

[Arabella Balfour]

Arabella mulled over the question silently. She had thought that if ever the time was to come somehow it would be planned and precise, even romanticized. She had never expected to look like a drowned rat in a satin robe, hair wet and weak from illness. On the other hand..

She sat up, running her fingers through the damp tendrils of her hair. The decision was already made. She felt as though she had already said her goodbyes to one life and was ready now to take on another chapter. She felt.. clean, somehow. New, refreshed and for the first time in a while interested in her own desires instead of the desires of others. For two centuries her function had been to provide for everyone else. First it had been her body as a courtesan. Then her life's blood as a plaything and ghoul. Her service, though freely given, had devoted the last few decades to serving her Prince..

She could not recall a time that she had lived for herself at all.. Arabella nodded, no longer concerned with how she looked. Her brown eyes settled on Byron with affirmation.

"I'm ready.."