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Date Posted: 14:31:07 06/04/02 Tue
Author: moondreamer
Subject: Instinct - Chapter 11
In reply to: moondreamer 's message, "Instinct" on 11:51:56 05/22/02 Wed

Chapter 11

Same disclaimer.

Ian eased himself carefully out from under Sara’s arm and rose silently from their bed. The last thing he wanted to do at this point was wake her. It had taken many eventful hours before their long-denied hunger for each other had finally been satiated. They had loved as if in a frenzy, as if trying to defy time. Almost afraid, it seemed, that fate would somehow intervene yet again between them. Afraid to sleep, fearing to wake once again, alone and unfulfilled.

Finally, it seemed only sheer physical exhaustion and the reality of human frailty allowed them to find their rest in each other’s loving embrace. Sara refused to let him physically separate from her. Wanting to fall asleep with him still inside her. Filling every corner of her being and life with his tender love and caring. The events of the last few days, the fear of death and loss had taken its toll on both of the weary warriors.

Ian stood beside the bed and looked down upon his Lady. His, once again for the brief eternity of this time, this place. The reality of physical love had been for Ian a revelation. The sacrament of touch, long denied him by Kenneth Irons had set him aflame. The resulting conflagration had burned him to his core. Melting and changing him, it seemed, on a molecular level. Every cell and every chromosome somehow marked. For Ian, now, there existed only Sara and The Witchblade.

He walked with bare feet into the kitchen. Relishing the feel of the cool floor under his bare feet. Every inch of his skin now seem open and exposed to the unbearably sensual stimulation of touch. He understood now why Kenneth Irons had denied him this sensation. It was far too dangerous an addiction. Leaving one wanting more and more. So hard to be singularly focused when so many sensations beckoned.

Even though it was still early in the evening, Ian proceeded to fill the coffee maker. At some point Sara would wake, and he wanted to surprise her with some fresh coffee. He also had long experience with the sharper aspects of her personality upon waking. Ian stretched slowly, his muscular, nude form an artist’s fantasy come to life. He turned from the counter and looked for a long moment at the window. He walked forward and reaching down, opened the casement.

His other stepped in slowly. Watching Ian as he did so. Coming to a halt in front of him. The mirror images circled each other, expressionless. So alike, and yet so different. Ian, nude, his long curling hair hanging down to his shoulders, his face with a partial growth of beard. The beauty of his skin marred by a lifetime of scars of various types and sizes. The other, clothed all in black, his beard full and his hair pulled back into a club at the back of his head, the image of the man Ian used to be, yet was no longer.

The other stopped, then raised his ungloved hands and held them out palm up, to Ian. Ian raised his hands slowly to meet them and they clasped forearms. Each testing and feeling the physical reality of the other. It was one thing to know, intellectually; quite another to experience. Each felt a fierce joy rise up; sharing the knowledge that no matter what else happened, at this moment, they were no longer alone.

“Well, here we are. Together at last.” The other was the first to speak. As usual with him, there was an underlying tone of mockery in his smooth and deep voice. “Do I call you brother, or father?”

Ian smiled. It was amusing to hear someone else speak the thoughts in his head. He realized what this would mean, for now and forever. “I think brother will do. After all, it is Kenneth Irons who is father to us both.”

“Perhaps he was wise to have young Marcus killed. Parricide could become more than just a comic.”

The two stared at each other again. Each feeling the unspoken communication between them. The knowledge of two separate beings who thought as one.

“What shall you call me then, brother?” The other spoke again. “It is only fitting you should be the one to name me. I am, after all, nothing but what you have made me.”

“Does Kenneth know yet?”

“Know what? That I am the embodiment of your last few moments? That I am anything but his man? That you and I now live only to serve Lady Sara and The Witchblade? That the little doll he sought to create ended up with a soul?”

They dropped their clasped arms, and Ian looked at his “brother”.

“No,” the other continued, “Kenneth Irons realizes nothing. He sits and plans and manipulates the lives of those he considers beneath him, and he waits for my justice.” The look of malevolence in his eyes would have made many a strong man shiver.

“Our justice, brother. Our justice.” Ian raised his hand and reached out to himself. He cupped the bearded chin of his clone and looked deep into his own eyes.

“Irons would consider you my fallen angel.” Ian mused softly. “You are so unafraid of the simple things I was separated from for so long.”

The other smiled, his teeth glistening in the light. “Lucifer? Call me Luke then, brother. And remember, you are separated no more.”

“Luke.” Ian tasted the name on his tongue. “A fine name. Where does this leave us then? You and I?”

“Forget not, my brother, it is you and I, and the fair Lady Sara.” Luke looked openly at Ian. His intentions stated plainly between them.

“That will be her choice, Luke. Not mine.” Ian warned.

Luke inclined his head. “You are correct, brother. But, I will have faith in our Sara.” He smiled again. “We will make a fine team. Together.”

Ian smiled back. Unable to resist the boyish appeal of that unaffected grin. “Together.” He echoed.

Luke turned back towards the window. “I must go back before he becomes suspicious. He expected Sara for dinner tonight. I will make her excuses. Live for these moments, my brother. Make her happy tonight.”

Ian watched as Luke left out the window and headed down the fire escape. He could feel the sorrow at their separation and yet he still felt joy that it was not he who had to return to Kenneth Irons. That he was able to turn and go back into the bedroom where his beautiful Sara waited dreaming for him.

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Replies:

  • Instinct - Chapter 12 -- moondreamer, 09:02:13 06/05/02 Wed
  • Moondreamer... -- Spin, 01:43:15 06/06/02 Thu
  • Moon your being missed here! -- Spin (still breathing), 15:01:15 06/08/02 Sat
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