He nodded. “I get that.”
I smiled again. “Maybe when I know more, when
I know if it’s safe, I’ll conjure it again and you can.”
Noc smiled again too. “That’d be cool.”
“I just, well, I just had to share.” I leaned
back into him, lifting the hand that had sparked blue and wrapping
it around the warm, silken skin covering hardness at his biceps.
“It’s impossible to explain. Being out there with Valentine and
Lavinia. Being given a gift I didn’t want but the instant I
received it I knew how precious it was. Understanding more of who I
am, what’s inside me, that there are women who have the same and
they’re not like my mother. I don’t have words to describe the
magnificence and I know it’s late. I shouldn’t have woken you but I
just
had
to share it with someone. And you know who I am,
what I have inside me. Outside of Josette, Valentine and Lavinia,
you’re the only one. And I know I can trust you with all of
it.”
“Yeah, you can,” he replied with a smile, but
there was a firmness to his tone that I liked very much. This he
coupled with resting a hand on the side of my waist and giving me a
squeeze. “And seriously pleased you woke me up to share,
sweetheart, and totally stoked to hear you dug the experience.”
I nodded up at him enthusiastically, not sure
what “stoked” meant but I did know what “dug” meant thus affirmed,
“I did, Noc. I very much did.”
He looked down at me with an indulgent
expression.
We stood standing close, staring at each
other and touching lightly for some time before I realized neither
of us was speaking.
Suddenly feeling awkward, I cast a glance at
his disheveled bed, took my hand from his arm and stepped back,
forcing Noc’s hand to fall from my waist.
My eyes to the rug at my side, I stated, “I
woke you, now I should let you sleep.”
“We could go raid the kitchens,” he curiously
suggested.
I looked back to him. “Pardon?”
“Babe, you don’t look any less wired than you
did when you walked in here. That means raid the kitchen, or hitch
up a sleigh and go joyriding through Fyngaard, or find ourselves a
bottle of whiskey and get slaughtered.”
I was definitely peckish.
And I always enjoyed a lovely libation.
“I choose the first and the last,” I
shared.
To that, Noc’s smile went white and wide, and
promptly after he strode from the room into his dressing room. He
came back wearing one of his attractive, long-sleeved shirts that
had no buttons (and I’d discovered all of them were of an oddly
stretchy material).
He handed me a ball of wool that I realized
were a pair of his socks just as he sat on the couch by the fire
and pulled his own ball of wool open.
“Put those on to keep your feet warm,” he
ordered.
He was concerned about my comfort, did
something about it, and that something was as intimate as me
wearing his clothing.
There was a loveliness to this I shouldn’t
allow myself the opportunity to feel.
I did not delay even a second in sitting
beside Noc to pull his socks on my feet.
When I had the over-large, warm wool on, he
was up and I was too, as he’d grabbed my hand and pulled me that
way.
“Let’s go, sugarlips.”
I rolled my eyes at his irksome
endearment.
But I said nothing.
My hand in Noc’s, we went to raid the
kitchens and get “slaughtered” on whiskey.
This we did.
And I enjoyed every second.
Better, with delight he did not hide from me
for a second, Noc did too.
Dr. Zhivago
Franka
It was time.
Weeks I had waited to get on with things—as
Noc would say, close the book on my old life and start the first
chapter on the new—and it was finally time.
But now that it was, I didn’t want it to be
time.
This was, I knew, because I was standing at
the window of my bedroom looking down at Kristian’s and my sleighs
being packed. Ahead of them, more sleighs were being readied to
take Finnie and Frey, Cora and Tor, Circe and Lahn…and Noc to
Sudvic to start Noc’s adventure.
We would be parted for months.
I did not want that.
Anything could happen in months. Months was a
long time.
He could find a young beautiful maiden in
Hawkvale, fall in love, decide to stay in this world. Or he could
wish her to live in his own and bring her back with him.
Or he could think on me and wonder why he was
so kind and friendly, supportive and caring, teasing and sweet, and
use the time to grow distant so that when we met again, I had none
of him at all.
A knock came at the door and I was so deep in
my thoughts, I jumped and turned to it, mouth opening to call to
the person beyond to enter.
My mouth shut and tightened, out of habit
mostly, because I needn’t have bothered with the effort of parting
my lips.
The door was already closing behind Noc.
I watched him saunter to me, grinning. “All
the action’s downstairs, sugarlips.”
“I have seen sleighs packed before, many
times, starting from the moment I could cipher,” I reminded him.
“It’s hardly fascinating.”
Noc stopped in front of me and looked down
out of my window. “If it’s not interesting,” he said to the window
before turning his attention to me, still grinning, “why are you
watching it from up here?”
I stared into his face, his extraordinary
eyes, remembering suddenly every moment from that first he’d walked
into the sitting room to make me feel better after Minerva and her
companions were bested, all of our moments layering, interweaving,
making me feel warm…
And bereft.
“I fear I’ll miss you,” I whispered and
watched his grin die.
“Frannie,” he whispered back, getting close,
putting a hand to my waist and sliding it to the small of my
back.
“You’ve been very kind to me. You…you’ve…” I
shook my head and gave him the honest truth, “You’ve changed my
life, Noc.” I drew in a swift breath and carried on even more
swiftly, “And no matter what comes for both of us, I cannot abide
you leaving without telling you how much it means and just how very
grateful I am.”
He lifted his other hand, curling his fingers
around the side of my neck as he dipped his head so his handsome
face was near.
“What’s gonna come for both of us is I’m
gonna do my thing and you’re gonna have quality time with your
family. After that, we’ll meet in NOLA. Then the first thing I’m
gonna do after feeding you pizza is get you drunk on
hurricanes.”
I felt confusion at his final word but did it
no longer finding it irritating. Weeks with Noc and having this
feeling, I’d grown accustomed to it. Not to mention, he had great
patience and I enjoyed his frequent amusement when I asked for
clarification.
“There are hurricanes in Fleuridia,” I
shared. “They’re so bad, seamen who can sense them and dogs that
have been trained to do the same are quite valued, for most people
pack their carriages and move far inland to avoid them and the
death and destruction they often cause.”
His eyes lit. “It’s a weather phenomenon,
sweetheart. But in my world it’s also a drink that will fuck you
up.”
“I’m assuming your usage of ‘fuck you up’ in
this instance is a good thing,” I guessed.
“Hell yeah,” he confirmed, again with an
upward curve to his lips.
I lifted a hand and put it on his chest.
“Then I’ll look forward to that, Noc.”
I’d barely ceased talking when his hand went
from my neck to mine on his chest where he folded it tight in his
hold and held it there against the soft wool of his thick
sweater.
“I want you writing me,” he demanded, and at
his demand, I stared.
“But, you’ll be far and wide. Any missive
will—”
“I don’t care if the news is three months old
when I get it,” he interrupted me to say. “I want you writing me
and I’ll write you too.”
Oh.
We’d correspond.
How delightful!
I pressed my hand against his chest. “You
have my vow, I will share all the ridiculously boring things that
are happening to me as I await the birth of my brother’s child, and
you can share with me all you’ve seen, heard, tasted and
experienced as you travel the depth of a continent in a parallel
universe.”
This time his eyes flashed with humor.
“I got a feeling you’ll find ways to liven
shit up,” he told me.
He would be right.
I would be learning how to use my magic, for
one, something he knew as I’d told him.
But the truth was, I was me. I wasn’t, but I
was.
And I wasn’t about to abide boring.
“We shall see,” I replied.
He got even closer to the point our bellies
were brushing through our clothes.
I held my breath.
He held my hand tighter at his chest.
“You leave first and you leave soon, baby,”
he said quietly, suddenly looking rather splendidly fierce. “I’m
gonna walk you down there and I’m gonna give you a hug in front of
everybody and I’m gonna act like I feel, which is that this part is
gonna suck because I’m gonna miss you too.”
He was going to miss me.
Why did that make me feel so much better?
“I have never been…hugged, in public that
is,” I shared.
Again, his eyes flashed with humor. “Glad I
get to break that seal.”
I felt my brows draw together. “Break that
seal?”
It was then I felt my face freeze as he
studied my brow only briefly before he dropped his forehead to
mine, and instead of answering my question, he muttered, “Yeah, I’m
gonna miss you too.”
“Noc,” I whispered.
“You be good,” he ordered.
Being good would be boring.
But that was me now. I’d eschewed my wicked
ways.
I had no choice but to “be good.”
Ulk.
Though I’d find ways to be good without being
boring (I hoped).
“I will,” I promised.
“Write me,” he went on.
“I already promised that,” I reminded
him.
He behaved like I didn’t even speak.
“And when the green mist clears, baby, we’re
gonna have a fuckin’ blast.”
I wanted that. I was very much looking
forward to going to his world, especially these last few days after
I’d shared I’d made the decision that I would and he’d explained
much more about his world and what would be awaiting Josette and I
there.
I wanted it more now because it would mean
Josette and my adventure would finally begin and Noc and my
separation would be over.
“Yeah?” he prompted when I said nothing.
“Yes, Noc,” I replied dutifully.
He pressed his forehead into mine before he
pulled away, looked down out my window and murmured, “It’s
time.”
I drew in a sharp breath at the sharp pain
those words caused but tried to hide it as I cast my gaze in the
same direction to see he spoke true.
And unfortunately Josette was outside,
cloaked and ready to go, peering up at the palace in the direction
of my room.
If I didn’t move, she would be forced to run
up to fetch me. A waste of time and energy.
Thus I put one hand to the window, pulled
slightly away from Noc, waved to her with my other and pointed
down, indicating in a way I hoped she read that I would be right
down.
She waved back, hopped twice on her boots and
then whirled, causing an outward waft of her new, lovely cranberry
wool cloak that was lined with sunshiny-gold rabbit fur.
Her new clothes were perfection not only
because they suited her, but because she made no bones about the
fact she was enjoying having them.
Although, according to Noc, she wouldn’t be
able to wear them in our new world when we got there.
This mattered not. I was screamingly rich.
I’d buy her another wardrobe in just months’ time and I’d delight
in it.
It was a shock but it couldn’t be denied,
acts of generosity felt very,
very
good.
On this thought, Noc drew me away from the
window, my hand in his still held to his chest, but my arm was now
tucked to his side as he led me out of the room.
Apparently, what needed to be said had been
said. We were both quiet as we walked down the hall toward the
stairs.
I found my feet lagging, Noc’s doing the
same, and the silence became uncomfortable as we made our way down
the stairs.
And as we walked across the grand entry, I
had to force myself to put one foot in front of the other rather
than drag them or come to a stop entirely, and the silence had
become heavy with melancholy.
“Gods, I’ve grown maudlin,” I declared,
staring at the door and only faintly sensing a footman coming
forward with my cloak and hat.
“Yeah, goodbyes suck,” Noc agreed.
He let me go so I could accept my cloak on my
shoulders and he awarded me with a cheeky grin when I’d pulled my
hat over my forehead.
“Dr. Zhivago,” he whispered.
“I beg your pardon?” I asked, yanking on my
gloves.
“Straight up, would seem impossible, but
you’re a fuckuva lot more gorgeous even than Julie Christie,” he
continued whispering. “And you don’t know it, sweetheart, but
that’s saying something.”
Through his words I’d grown solid. I had no
idea to whom he was referring, but his tone and the look on his
face made the depth of his compliment sparklingly clear.
This meant I did something I’d never done in
my life.
In an effort not to be overwhelmed with the
emotion I was feeling, I swatted his arm like a spoiled child or a
flirting debutante and accused, “You’re making this more
difficult.”
“My apologies,” he said through a smile,
taking hold of me again and heading us toward the front doors that
footmen were opening for us, going on to say, “Let’s get your ass
in that sleigh.”