101 | ACT VII, SCENE XII

P R E V I O U S L Y

"Valmont?"

HARTINGTON CASTLE, ALNWICK, STORMHOLT.

TRISTAN

THAT VOICE - THAT - THAT DAMNED voice.

I had to be - I had to be dreaming. I had to be. There was no way... no way-

Frozen, shell shocked - my breath caught in my throat, heart stuck in my mouth - I turned around.

The cigarette clenched between my fingers crumbled into pieces.

Eric's face was exultant, a slight smile resting on his lips, grey eyes shining with the light of some great secret. Beside him, Amphitrite looked at me tearfully, her sea green robes billowing about in the cool air.

Both man and wife stepped aside, their faces full of beaming pride, laced with a slight undercurrent of warning danger.

And the person - the person behind them -

A ghost - it was her ghost.

Her - her face - like my nightmares had come to life - she was standing right there... still in that dress of red and blue and gold, with the Tremayne phoenix and Valmont lion embroidered on her cape as it trailed on the floor.

The ghost.

Tears welled up in my eyes, throat closing up fast. The figure looked at me once, twice, and those sea green eyes lit up with wariness, a darkness growing in them as we stared at each other for a full minute.

Eric - Eric had played a very cruel joke... there was no way.

But I had heard her.

"Valmont?"

There it was - there it was again.

I looked at her once again. Itching so hard to touch, afraid she would vanish in front of my eyes. I reached out for her at once, but my footsteps stopped right in the middle of my tracks.

This couldn't be. I was hallucinating. Her ghost - this was her ghost come to play tricks on me again.

"Tristan?"

There was such hollowness, such loneliness blooming in the pit of those ocean eyes, such sadness, that it made my heart break into pieces.

"Are you just going to stand there looking at me like a lunatic?"

Gods. Oh, gods.

Real.

A strangled laugh worked its way out of my lips, a sound so foreign to my ears that I had forgotten what it felt like.

She was real.

One step - and then another - and then another.

She stood very, very still.

A thousand questions spun in my head.

How did they find her? How did she escape that sadist? What did they do? Where had she been? How was... how was she alive?

Alive - after everything Thanatos was rumoured to do... to his victims.

Blinding, searing pain and guilt washed over me, pain which I had long tried to numb, pain which never left me, pain which was so, so familiar to me.

She looked so pale - gods - she looked so, so pale. So tired.

We stood a feet apart, looking warily into each other's eyes.

I wanted. I wanted to touch her. To feel her. To - to know -

My hand reached out, still afraid she would vanish. Shaking, trembling, my palm rose towards that face which haunted me day and night, so scared, so, so scared.

And in her eyes, I saw fear for the first time.

Fear that belonged only in the gaze of prisoners. Prisoners who had been in chains for a very, very long time. Fear that was stronger than bonds of iron or shackles of Ekrite. A very, very real fear.

And every atom of my being itched to wrap her into my arms, to hold her, to erase that darkness now thriving in her eyes, to tell her that she was going to be okay. That she was finally home.

But instead, shaking with fear, I placed a trembling hand on her cheek.

Where I expected coldness, I met only warmth.

Those eyes had widened - widened far enough for me to understand the fact that it was fear swimming in them, yes... but also the quiet gratitude of a person who had not been touched like this in a very, very long time.

Gods, gods.

That realness, that solid, concrete feeling of her, of her skin, of her being, it consumed me whole. A single tear trickled down her cheek.

And a second later, her warm hand, her real hand wrapped around mine on her cheek as she looked sadly into my eyes, slowly breaking into a smile lovelier than the glowing sunrise.

"I'm real, Tristan," Edwina whispered, tears clinging to her lashes.

My brain tried to process it. To reason out a rational thought - struggling to understand that she wasn't a figment of my imagination, that she wasn't a part of my nightmares - that she was real. I couldn't think, couldn't speak, not in a language I knew. But the one thing I was sure of was that I was scared that if I didn't touch her again she'd vanish, that her atoms would tear themselves apart, that she'd melt away before my eyes-

I was so, so scared to hold her.

Scared that I would hurt her. Scared that it would only trigger memories of pain.

But I - I had to hold her... to hold her safe - to tell her I was never going to let anyone do that to her, ever again.

"Can I... hold - you?" I whispered.

She gave me a heartbreaking smile.

One moment, we were apart.

And the next, we were a single thing, my defenses dissolved as we melted into one.

Gods - her warmth - the warmth kissed my cold skin as I felt the strong beat of her heart pounding under her chest. She flung her hands around my neck as I felt her body shake violently against mine. But the pain - the fear still raged in her eyes, clouded with heavy apprehension, something Thanatos would have conditioned in her as he - as he... I did not want to think about that.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I murmured lovingly. "I'm never going to let anyone else hurt you."

She clutched at me like I was an anchor, and held her tight, rubbing her back gently as I stroked her hair.

"Tristan," her voice was muffled, halfway between a gasp and a sob.

"Breathe. Breathe."

"I was scared - I was so, so scared," she whispered, her fists clenching at the fabric of my shirt as I folded her against my chest, holding her, and telling her I would never let her go.

And then she looked at me, really looked at me, and there was fear and desperation in that gaze, but there was also relief. Relief, and happiness.

We were immortal in our joy. She looked at me like the moon and the stars shone out of my eyes, I looked at her like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. We did not care that the room was not empty, that there were people around us - the only thing that mattered was us.

Her and I.

Alive.

It was hard to believe that I wasn't in a forgotten dream, that she was real, that she was running her hand through my hair as I caressed her soft cheek, feeling the warmth seep into me like fire thawing a block of ice. I gently cupped her chin and wiped away that tear.

"Don't," I murmured into her ear as she curled up at my side, "ever do that to me again."

Edwina only hummed a quiet approval before settling herself in my arms, her sea green eyes swimming with tears as we looked into each other's soul.

"Gods, Valmont," she whispered hoarsely. "Don't go all sentimental on me."

A throaty chuckle burst from my lips as she tipped back her head and joined me, an incredible smile on her face as she watched me laugh, her eyes shining. She'd made me laugh again - the first time in hundred years that I truly laughed.

"How?" I croaked, turning to Eric even as my hand slid around her, holding her close to me. He gave me a smirk and crossed his arms as Amphitrite rolled her sky blue eyes, beaming with joy.

"It was hard. But we somehow managed," he muttered, trying not to look pleased but failing. He turned to Edwina, a grin on his face. "You see, the night Ambrosine told you to take your own life, I tried to delay you as much as possible. Remember the time Cosmo threatened to strip your immortality if you refused to marry? He did say he made some extra reincarnation portion. And what you didn't know was the fact that... some of it was still left."

Of course - how hadn't it struck me.

"I tried to stall her as much as I could," Amphitrite explained. "While Eric looked for the potion in Cosmo's study. "That last glass of wine she drunk? It had that potion."

"And I drank it-" Edwina's eyes lit up with realization, her jaw dropping.

"Effectively ensuring that you would be born again as a human, at some point. Perhaps not as immediately as Cosmo and Titania, but you would return. One day. Which is why we didn't tell you about it, Tristan," she looked at me, repentant. "It could take a day, a month, a millennium - we had no idea when she would be reborn, and we didn't want to give you false hope."

"And then you died," Eric told Edwina. "And the Tremaynes burn their dead. But you were the goddess of fire. And even when your body was on the pyre and the ethanol spread in layers on your skin, the fire refused to touch a single inch of you."

I remembered it all - remembered it all so clearly.

"We couldn't burn your body. But you were a Valmont as much as a Tremayne. So we did what the Valmonts do to their dead. We buried your body in a tomb of marble. And then, we both waited."

"You took your sweet bitch of a time to come back, hmm," Eric continued, clicking his tongue with annoyance. "I tried to look everywhere and put Amphitrite on duty when I had to leave for work. But together, we kept an eye on every human newborn with the help of Rosalva. And then, seventy eight years later, you were born to a loving family in London."

Surprise rippled through me.

I had been in London at that time.

"How did I not see her, then?" I questioned them. "I was there. I was looking for her."

"That was the very problem," Eric chuckled lightly, a grin spreading over his face. "You took the rings from me. To look for Edwina on your own. I had to keep stealing them back when you weren't looking."

"But... I couldn't find her."

All those years I had stalked the streets day and night, looking here and there, hoping hard that she would turn up somewhere - all these painful, heartbreaking nights spent in a rush of fear and desperation - looking for the lair of the god of death - and she'd been right under my nose?

"You... Tristan," Amphitrite sighed. "You... seemed to turn up everywhere. Everywhere. There were times when you almost found her."

"We both had to cast an illusion to keep you from spotting her," Eric muttered. "It was a nightmare, Valmont. You kept on turning up in city after city in the mortal world, so we both had to take extra care to ensure you didn't find her."

"I took up residence in the apartment opposite your family's - not sure if you remember the blond haired neighbor with the hedgehog," Amphi continued. "But there was another problem. You were human. Thanatos himself reaps the souls only of gods and immortals, they're fewer. Humans are... so many. And instead of Thanatos, his shades reap them. He only interfered in matters of the mortals in case of discrepancies - like the death of a person before their destined day."

"So you waited for me to die a natural death," Edwina breathed, her voice sharp. "Because if you killed me before my time was up, Thanatos would know."

"Precisely," Eric nodded. "So we waited till your human form died on its own, according to what the Fates decreed. Thanatos would then merely send a shade to collect your soul and he'd never look further into the matter. So we waited. I was afraid you were going to take a long time to die. You're pretty hard to kill, cousin. But thankfully, you didn't take long. You were in a car crash. Lost control of the breaks - you're a reckless driver, by the way. Your sister followed every step of yours and she saw it. By the time I arrived, they took you into surgery. But you died on the table twenty minutes later."

"Do you know how old you were?" Amphitrite quietly asked. "Twenty two. Dead at twenty two, Edwina. That's a new sort of record, even for you. I watched them try to revive you but you were gone. And once it was clear you weren't breathing anymore, the attending on call noted the time of death. The shade came to collect your soul five minutes later."

"I killed the shade," her husband muttered. "Thanatos never even noticed. He never did, and he never will. That's what you get when you have more than a million useless minions in your service. Then we took the soul he'd released from your body. Your soul was so fucking restless, more fidgety than that of a two year old. Kept on trying to escape every time I was looking in another direction."

My wife let out a weary laugh.

"We took the ring and came back to Endollon," her sister added. "Your home. Your soul quieted somewhat, as if sensing it was finally where it belonged. Then I released it from the tethers and it flew straight away to your grave in the forest. Before our eyes, it disappeared in the marble containing your body like smoke."

"That one minute," Eric inhaled. "That one minute was the hardest of my life, Edwina. I was so scared it wouldn't work. That our very last hope wouldn't work. That's why we couldn't tell you, Tristan. We couldn't tell you a thing. It hurt us so badly to see you like that. But we had no idea - no idea if this crazy idea would ever, ever work. So we decided to spare you the heartbreak. And we kept you from her," he finished, slight moisture glimmering in his eyes.

I - I wanted to be angry. I wanted to lose my temper. I wanted to scream at him, to shout at him, to throttle him so, so hard. If only I knew - if he had given me even the slightest bit of hope - perhaps that pain would have been easier to bear.

But her got her back.

He got her back, even when I couldn't.

And I could never thank Eric and Amphitrite enough for that.

I lightly squeezed Edwina's hand as she turned to face me, a soft smile resting on her tired face.

"Then we both heard a crack. Your fist had shot a hole through the marble. It splintered like sand and then the entire marble scattered to the ground. And there you were. Undead, alive, and in those dusty oiled silks from a hundred years ago. Your soul was back from a hundred years vacation, but it was finally home."

Finally home.

She was finally home.

"So don't tell me you have no one to dance with, Tristan. I expect you both in my hall this evening," Eric grinned widely from ear to ear, flashing his teeth. I couldn't keep the smile off my face, even when he smirked.

"And..." Amphitrite said cautiously, clearing her throat. "I - I want to say sorry. For what I said to you. Did to you. All those years back. I'm so, so sorry. I tried my best to bring you back. I care for you," she whispered. "And I don't want to see you hurt again. I fought so hard for you. I'm sorry about what is in the past. But please... if you could give me one more chance, I promise I'll never fail you."

Edwina stiffened at my side, her face still white as the coldness thawed out of her eyes bit by bit.

"I need - I need some time," she said at last, even as her sister's eyes lit up and filled with tears.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much."

"We'll leave you two to it," Eric muttered smugly, reaching for the door. "Don't forget about the Ball or I'll come and drag you both out even if you're naked."

"Shut the fuck up," she playfully pushed him out of the room as I rolled my eyes.

"Now that's the Edwina I know," he chortled, as the door closed at last, leaving us both in the darkness, alone but together.

The silence between us was heavy as I laced my fingers in hers, fear tightening in my throat as I looked at her once more.

Her skin seemed stretched, taut over her bones, and much more pale than the rosy flush on her cheeks. There was no other physical difference - but something about the way she moved... it was the walk of a person travelling a thousand miles before coming home. Tired. Weary. And still laced with fear.

I wanted to draw her a bath, take that damned burial dress off her, feed her hot soup and tuck her into bed - I wanted her to feel safe, I wanted her to feel protected, but I was still so scared to touch her.

Something in her seemed wary still, watching me carefully, gaze trained to be far more alert than I had ever seen her. I tried not to think about her stretched out on a table as a sea of pain crashed over her body, dragging her further and further down. Only something like that could make her look like that.

"How... how are you feeling?"

She pushed a wisp of hair out of her face.

"Different. But same. Yet I don't... feel myself."

Her eyes gleamed with emotion as she looked around the room, the daggers still on their tables, the painting where she had left them, the dresses still in her closet; before slowly turning around to me.

"Tristan, will you please kiss me?"

Apprehension gripped me.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she whispered, hooking her arms around my neck as I drew her closer to me, still hesitant. "Yes," her voice was a loving murmur.

Gently at first, I cupped her chin and kissed her full on the mouth, wiping her tears away. To feel her warmth again - to feel her alive and in my arms - the feeling was surreal, indescribable. A feeling I never thought I'd experience again, not as long as I lived.

"Kiss me against the wall, Valmont," she murmured against my lips, her hands tugging at the buttons of my shirt as my fingers got lost in her hair.

"Where are your manners, woman?" I teased, hearing her make a tiny noise of annoyance.

"Please?"

I chuckled and backed her against the wall, interlacing her fingers in mine as she hooked her legs around me. Our kiss was so needy, so desperate, so hungry - it was filled with a century's worth of longing and despair and misery, and happiness and joy and the raw feeling of finally being home. We didn't even stop to catch our breath, didn't even stop for oxygen - it was a mindless, mundane need that needed no fulfilment. Each other's presence was all we needed, all we wanted to feel complete, to feel whole.

I tugged the cape off her dress - that dress I never wanted to see her in again - I wanted it gone and burned and thrown away, I wanted it off her body. That was the only thing I wanted tonight - not sex, but a different kind of intimacy, and one preferably without her in that dress she had been buried in since a hundred years.

"Not so fast, mister," she scolded me.

"We have a Ball to attend," I protested, "I want to dance with you so that I can twirl you around and hear you giggle when your skirts spin around."

"I do not giggle," she snorted, getting the water running as her eyes filled with memories and joy.

"You do."

She giggled then, and the sound was the loveliest thing I had ever heard.

"Will you dance with me, Edwina?" I whispered.

"I'll step on your toes," she snorted into my ear as I kissed her cheek, feeling the dried tracks of salty moisture on her skin.

"So?"

"You don't mind? Even if I step on your feet?"

"Even if you step on my feet," I muttered.

"Really?" she held my hand with a heartbreaking smile.

'I love you.'

"Really," a single tear rolled down my cheek.

'I love you too.'

• • • • •

*sigh* yes.

I promised you all you would understand. Sooner or later. I hope you all understood last chapter after this one! Aspen Hill was Edwina Tremayne. She was 22, she was young, she was brilliant (just like Edna Tremont) and she died too early.

It's sad... to think that all forms of Edwina (mortal and immortal) are somehow always expected to die.

And yes. The golden haired man from last chapter, the one in the bar - that was Eric.

He and Amphi kept tabs on her. I was gonna give Tristan an appearance too but I thought it might give away the secret! Speaking of the secret... did anyone of you guess? I mean, most of you probably thought it would be Edwina - but any of you guess how? If you didn't, lol no worries. In fact, I'd always known it would end up like this, and I sorta kept dropping references too.

Edwina kept telling Tristan she would love him in all her lives. And she told Amphitrite that she'd only forgive her in a different life!

I think this is where Amphi and Eric's redemption arc finally comes to a close - they've suffered with guilt for a hundred years, and more than enough paid for it. I feel they're genuinely sorry, else no one would have done this for her. Edwina brought back Amphitrite's children before she died, and Amphitrite tried to find a way for her to come back before that - and they both did it, not knowing what the other was doing. Both women made a move to help the other in their own way, regardless of anything else, not even expecting an reward in return. I mean... see, what happened to Edwina was horrid, but I really hope she finds some peace now, after finally forgiving her sister.

Fingers crossed, let her be peaceful. She deserves it.

And yep, what Thanatos and Ambrosine did to Edwina... last nearly 70 to 80 years  (*sob*) before they let her soul go and she reincarnated.

I can't even imagine the state of a person who survived something like that. Not physical torture, but torture all the same. She was scared when she came back. She was so scared. She was so afraid to be touched, and I am so glad Tristan recognized her suffering and gave her a little space - asking for her permission. Please pray Edwina gets better.

One day, she hopefully might.

Yes, they both are broken beyond repair, but they are alive. And that is all that matters :)