I am not a healer, nor shall I pretend to be one for a mere glimpse at her nakedness, for I cannot betray my Alexandra that way. Bryony de Rose shall suffer privately, for the most I can give her is an incense of Hyssop sprinkled over the fire that crackles behind the stoney hearth to break the jinx, a handful of Yarrow leaves to pack against her wound, and a tea of Mullein Flowers to aid in restful sleep.
She fooled me for a moment into believing she was Alexandra.. my long lost wife and love of my life. For she lay twined beneath the coverings on Alexandra's bed, dressed in one of my wife's lacy sleeping gowns. And for those fleeting few moments I was caught up in a dream of desire. I want to gather her into my arms and kiss her. Yes.. I want to hear her whispers against my ear, beseeching me to lay with her in nakedness and pleasure.
It was only when I had parted my lips and spoke something to her.. words which I cannot even recall, that Astarté suddenly appeared upon the bed, hissing and growling with feline ferocity. Too, she claimed her stake there, and it was me whom she seemed hell-bent in warding off. Not Bryony.
Labels: Bryony, Bryony de Rose, Druid, Necromancer, Storyteller's Triquetra, The Triquetra, Triquetra, Vale, Vale of the Enclave, Warlock, Warrick, Warrick Erebus
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