Post-book/late addition. Please enjoy this previously unpublished chapter, which I wrote from Salazar's POV.
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We are dressed formally, though not in any fashion from my time
Nor of hers
And where are we?
I couldn't begin to guess ...
We've hopped back and forth so many times, if I stop to think about it, my head will spin
The furnishings of the room we presently find ourselves in - a small study - perfectly match us in formality and elegance
Having shut the door behind us and locked it, she now turns to me and smiles knowingly, "... Missed me, haven't you?"
And because I simply can't help myself, I pull her into my arms, my own hands finding their way around her and onto the ties of her gown, "You simply have no idea ..."
You don't
You really don't
I've spent an eternity missing you
Laughing into my neck, I feel her hands tug my shirt up and out of my trousers, which she now quickly unfastens, "I hate old clothing -"
Smiling against her, I quip back, "I hate new clothing -"
Because
What's old for her, new for me
That never changes
Both laughing now, we begin to kiss quickly, impatiently
A thousand years makes you impatient, after all
Particularly when the Devil makes you replay it half a dozen or more times
... That's over six thousand years I've waited in total, if one's keeping track
But I'm not complaining
I'd do it all over again
Just as I know I'll keep doing it
She and I
Together and apart, together and apart
Until I draw my final breath
Call me 'the man who runs forever forward'
Because she's what's forward
She's my forever
My everything
Feeling giddy and eager to tease, I murmur to her, my lips pressed against her collarbone, "Tell me ..."
"Mmm?"
"Tell me what you hate about old clothing ..."
I already know the answer, of course
I've heard it from her lips time and time again:
... The long gowns ...
But still I ask
Because what's familiar to me, unknown to her -
And I live for hearing her say anything
"The long gowns," she sighs into my jaw, shaking her head as she does so
"What's wrong with long, Maitia?"
And as I whisper this teasingly, I begin to slowly lift the skirt of her dress
Up off the floor, all the way past her legs, past her waist
... Bothersome. Overly formal for my tastes ...
"Bothersome. Overly formal for my tastes -" Her breathy reply, suddenly cut short by a sharp inhalation as I begin to slowly tug her undergarments down and away
I live for this
I live for these brief moments in an otherwise empty ocean of time
"... Annnnd?"
I can't contain my longing
Can't hide the delight in my tone
Wouldn't ever even want to
... Most of all, stifling. I need my freedom ...
Nodding into me, she kisses at my neck hungrily as my fingers find their way between her legs. Then, sure enough, she begins, "... Most of all -"
I forgot the pause here
How could I forget the pause?
Such a delicious pause
As she shudders against me
Say it - go on:
... Stifling. I need my freedom ...
"... Stifling. I need my freedom."
There it is
Word for word
And my turn to gasp, as her hand begins to stroke at me, matching perfectly the pace with which I touch her
"You ..."
Her laugh, soft in my neck, "Me?"
"You deserve all the freedom, Maitia."
...
...
...
... I see her
See her passed out in the middle of that circle of stones
A ritual sacrifice he's laid out for me
To taunt me
And because he's betting I'll bite
... Which I will
I'll bite absolutely every time
Because I can't seem to learn from my mistakes
And I can't seem to let her go
The same way he can't let her go
Sprinting forward, my wand extended out, I desperately search for any signs of him lying in wait
... Where are you?
What shadow has the Devil taken cover under this time?
But despite my mind screaming for me to stop
To turn around
To take the time to properly strageise
I continue to run straight towards her
If I can just be quicker this time -
If I can just reach her -
... I'm so tired of this endless cycle
Tired of losing her
Again and again and again
And how I've not gone mad yet, I couldn't begin to say
Maitia
A thousand nicknames for you and yet I could make a thousand more
The dead lifeless bodies of dozens of snakes littering the ground as I near her
He does this just to taunt me
It's a game for him, the same way everything's a game
Gasping for air, I finally manage to reach her
Her
Jainkosa
A thousand nicknames, not nearly enough
And as I fall to my knees, as I begin frantically trying to revive her
To break the sleeping curse he's put her under
A distant roll of thunder distracts me, causes my eyes steal a quick glance upwards at the ominous green skies
And then back to her
Kuttuna
Laztana
Printzesa
... A thousand nicknames, and yet she's never remembered a single one
Finally - finally the signs of stirring
And as I hold her, as I watch her eyes flutter open, head in my lap,
I'm greeted yet again with the sight most soul crushing to me:
That stare ...
That completely blank stare ...
The absence of any and all recognition ...
Biting at my lip to keep from crying, I hear her ask me
Ask me once more:
"Who ...?"
I can't do this again - please not this hell - not again -
... My own eyes flashing open, my body shaking violently from the nightmare, I relax ever so slightly at the two sets of eyes staring down at me pityingly as I lay in my bed.
"Saavedra ..."
Gulping at the air, I press both hands against the mattress as I push myself upwards and against the headboard, "... I'm so sorry, My Dear Ladies."
It's only the millionth time I've woken them in the middle of the night, my cries so loud it's caused them to dip out of the private chambers they share together, the chambers linked directly to my own.
The living arrangement only we three know of
"I'm so, so sorry -"
As I begin to repeat my usual stream of apologies, Erlea leans forwards, a sympathetic smile playing across her face, "No apologies necessary, Saavedra."
Nodding in agreement, Mitxoleta sighs and sinks down onto the edge of my bed, her hand reaching out for mine in a show of support and solidarity, "... You dream again of her."
An observation, not a question
"Every night now."
Stepping back, Erlea opens the large credenza set against the wall of my bedroom, humming softly as she performs a careful search. Then, just as anticipated, she finds what she's been looking for. Stepping back towards me, she holds the small vial of Draught of Peace in her open palm, "Yes?"
Nodding appreciatively, I take it and uncork it, draining the contents in one gulp.
Sighing and sliding back downwards, my head finds its way onto my pillow as Mitxoleta's eyes meet mine, her hand squeezing me supportively, "You will find your way back to her again, Saavedra. You will. The same way you have so many times before."