Yours, mine and ours (CLOSED)

[Keara Aithne]

Dreaming wasn't something Keara did. Not since becoming a vampire. Her days were such that she simply lay unconscious. Neither her mind nor body moved. For all intents and purposes, she was dead the moment the sun kissed the horizon and she wasn't restored to life until the last of its rays had dwindled to nothing. This however was merely her perception of her condition and she had been no-one to tell her otherwise, as her companions suffered from a similar affliction. The truth was that she did, on occasion dream, she just never remembered it. Her body was still, but on occasion her lips would move and she would speak. But these moments were few and far between and only ever occurred when she was under great psychological stress. Most vampires were capable of waking from their unnaturally heavy sleep if in great pain, but the pain she suffered within her mind was not enough to pull her from the depths of oblivion, it was only ever just enough to make her say a word or two. The daywalker power had changed all this for her, however. Now, as she slumbered in the daylight hours, she could fidget, dream and speak more clearly. She rarely remembered her dreams upon waking but she dreamed almost every night. Much like any woman in love, her dreams were filled with images of him. Sometimes the dreams were soothing and at other times, they played upon her deepest fears. She would call out Enver's name several times a night and if he were close by, as he didn't seem to sleep as often or for as long as she did, she would cling more tightly to him. Tonight her dreams were to evolve once more. But the reason for this would be two fold and would start, not with a dream, but with a memory.

• • The skies darkened early and the days were short. The wind beat against the shutters, pulling at them, willing them to dance but they were bolted in place and so rattled with impatience, waiting to be freed. Their father was up at the manor house discussing business with the lord and their brother Weylin was with him. The women folk, as always, had been left behind to tend to the house hold. A woman's place was in the home; especially when nightfall came and none were permitted to leave their home unescorted. This however was a new rule. One that had only been in place for a few months. The reason for the curfew was known only to a few. Being her father's favourite, Keara of course knew that a fierce predator roamed their woods. One with unparalleled intelligence. There had been speak in town of a witch dwelling in the forest but those claims, as yet, were unsubstantiated. For whatever reason. It was only those that stepped into the night air that seemed to be in any danger, hence the new precautions.
    
    Their mother was at the hearth, keeping a watchful eye on the stew as she mended a small tear in one of her husband's shirts. Evelina sat at her side, her fingers deftly working on stitching the hem of a new dress for Rowena. Rowena, sat opposite the pair, prattling on about her long term crush and how wonderful it would be if he would 'just but notice her'. Keara sat on the opposite side of the cabin, staring at the three confidants. She was never as close as any of them were and she could never quite work out why her oldest sister, Evelina, would continue to spend her nights in the family homestead instead of that of her own. Had she a home of her own, she was sure she wouldn't still be sharing a bed with her sisters. Evelina had been married for a number of years and had the odd habit of returning home and staying for long periods of time. Her husband being a soldier, meant she had a great deal of free time on her hands and since, as yet, they had been unable to conceive, she still felt the pull of the family home. At least this was the excuse she gave every time she visited. Of course her mother and father were always happy to see her and Rowena practically worshiped the ground she walked on, as Evelina was everything she wanted to be; a married woman. Keara had no such aspirations and actually planned on being a spinster; which she was now in fact at the old age of four and twenty. Sat in her own little corner, she was lost in a book, the words barely visible to her. She was about to fetch herself a candle, when a loud noise outside of their cabin caught her attention.
    
    Crack.
    
    The same sound carried over the wind. Keara sat upright and looked to her family. They were unaware of the impending danger up until the moment she moved. They all listened. If whoever or whatever was approaching was their father and sibling, they would likely be hearing conversation. Their father had a habit of announcing himself through a specific whistle, but no such sound followed.
    
    Crack. Crack.
    
    More twigs snapping under feet. Keara moved to pick up her bow and the quiver full of arrows they kept by the door. The quiver was soon snug across her back and she only turned to face her family again at the sound of her name. Her mother was urging her to stay inside, to heed the curfew, but she didn't listen. She pulled the door open wide and moved outside. The moment she stepped across the threshold, she readied an arrow.
    
    "Bolt the door," she ordered as she listened for the direction in which she must go.
    
    There was nothing in those woods that Keara feared. Nothing that was until recently and even now, her courage won out over her common sense. With the men gone, the protection of her mother and sisters fell to her. She heard the door close behind her and then another sound from off in the forest. She moved as quickly and as silently as she could through the brush, making only a few sounds that echoed those of the creature she was following. It was leading her away from the cabin and like an over confident fool, she followed.
    
    She was unaware of the creature being so close until it grabbed her by the base of the neck, causing her to freeze. The bow and arrow she carried would do no good now as they were close quarters and so she let the bow drop, keeping the arrow in her hand. She attempted to stab her assailant with the tip of the arrow as she thrust it behind her, only to hear the shaft of it crack.
    
    "You do not wish to hurt me child. So please, do not try."
    
    It spoke. He spoke. The voice was full of authority and confidence. He was difficult not to believe. Any other woman would have been screaming but not Keara, she was oddly calm.
    
    "Unhand me Sir. I have nothing upon my person of any worth besides my weapon and you are welcome to it. I shall not challenge you."
    
    Her actions perhaps told a different story as she squirmed to break free of his grip but found herself unable to do so. The man was uncommonly strong, but this fact did not register within her mind as so few men had ever actually been so close to her.
    "You do not fear that I will simply take your life and then relieve you of any possessions of worth that you might have?"
    "No. I believe I would be dead already if that were your intention."
    
    The moment she was allowed to do so, she pulled herself free from the man's grasp and turned to face him. She was unarmed and posed him little threat, and once more, when instinct should have told her to run, much like it told her to scream, she did not. Instead she stood her ground, looked him in the eye and continued to address him.
    
    "My family have nothing of value Sir but if you require assistance we would be happy to help you in any way that we can."
    
    This much was true. Her family were not one of fortune but they were kind at heart and would always help a stranger in need. It was the way of the world. The way they earned good karma. The man before her didn't appear to be a thief. He had an heir of elegance about him. A look off nobility even. Whatever it was, it immediately put Keara at ease. She did not see him as a threat, despite their introduction. She had, without realising it, rationalised away his behaviour as she had come at him armed and he had feared for his own life.
    
    "My dear Lady. Do I look like I look like a man in need of assistance?"
    "Yes." She spoke plainly. "A man such as yourself has but two reasons to find himself in these woods. He is either a part of the lords hunting party, or he is lost. Since I do not see our lord with you, I must assume you are in need of assistance."
    He laughed.
    "Do not mock me Sir. It is unkind to do so. And if you require no assistance. Then I shall collect my belongings and return to my family. They will be scared on my behalf and I do not wish to cause them undue pain by prolonging this conversation."
    "Oh by all means," the man picked up her bow and held it out to her. "But before you leave, might I request to know the reason as to why you are hunting alone in the woods?"
    Keara took the bow from him and nodded.
    "But of course. There is something hunting in the forest. Some believe it is a witch. Others believe it is the devil."
    "Surely you do not believe such rumours, else you would not be out here."
    "I don't know what it is Sir, but there is something in the forest. The animals are quite uneasy. Whatever it is possesses the kind of intelligence one rarely sees in any predator but that of man."
    "If such a creature exists, it would be very dishonourable of me to let you walk home alone. Would it not?"
    "I assure you Sir. I have a better chance of protecting myself, than you do." She gestured with her bow.
    "This is true." The man seemed amused. "But I should like to see you safely home if you have no objections."
    "It is quite unnecessary. I assure you. Perhaps I should point you in the direction you wish to go?"
    "That is not necessary dear lady. I am quite aware of where I am. Before you leave. Since you will not consider my escorting you to be proper," He had made this assumption on his own. "Might I first perhaps, have the pleasure of a name. Specifically your name."
    "You may. My name is Keara Aithne."
    "Thank you Miss Aithne. My name is William Black."
    He gave a sweeping bow and she gave her very poor version of a courtsey by way of reply.
    "If the fates are kind, perhaps our paths will cross again sometime soon."
    Keara nodded and made her way home. Her family were quite relieved to see her safely home and there was much talk of what had transpired. Her mother insisted that her father never know and Rowena continued to ask for more and more details as how the gentleman looked.

The man she had met would soon become known to her by another name; Ven. He was a statuesque man, distinguished looking. The air of authority that carried in his voice, was reflected in the way he held himself. There was no mistaking that he was a man of considerable wealth and power. The ladies of the family were quite taken with the gentleman before they even met him, for they would meet him before the rise of the next full moon. Her father and brother were more cautiously optimistic as to a match between him and Keara; a match Keara refused to acknowledge. She was not well known for her beauty or charm, in fact the words wilful and stubborn were how she was most often described. Despite this fact, several young men had attempted and failed to woe her, for she had no interest in men or marriage. She wished only to hunt and to be of use to her family. Ven was only to be successful in his endeavours as he had greater patience than most and would offer her something that no other man, besides her father, ever had; encouragement. Ven praised her abilities and even helped to teach her a few new skills. Then one night, when he was quite certain of her, he turned her. But it was the memory of the day they met that shaped the dream of that night.

Keara had not seen her sire in some two hundred years and while for a great deal of that time she had also called him husband, she had moved in since returning from the shadow realm. She had sired, she had grandchilder but more importantly, for the sake of this story, she had found true love. Enver had awoken something in her that Ven never did. Whether he was in fact equal to task would never be something she would consider, as they were different men of different times. Instead Keara preferred to believe that the fates had led her to where she was supposed to be. She was supposed to meet Ven. She was supposed to come to Canada. She was supposed to die and be reborn. Every choice, every decision had led her here, to him.

As the memory gave way to dreams, she would be filled with the most unusual feeling of guilt. For dreaming of her sire should have been something of a kindness, and yet a part of her seemed to believe that do so, was to be unfaithful to the man she loved.

• • She stood in the park behind the Asylum. One of the lights that lit the path was flickering and for a moment it held her attention. Her name on the breeze called for her to seek him out and then she was gone, moving away from the path and into the darkness.
    
    “Daria.” The voice whispered.
    “Ven? Ven!”
    
    She cried out to him, her eyes scanning the horizon but he was nowhere to be seen. She was called on through the park. Over the lake. She walked through the heart of the city and yet she was unable to find him. Eventually she gave up and began the long walk home. Keara felt hurt and disappointed. She longed to see Ven. She had much to tell him, to explain. She wanted to show him this new world, but more than anything she wanted him to be safe.
    
    As she neared her home, she saw a figure on the steps of the asylum. At first she thought it was Enver but as she drew closer, she realised that that wasn’t the case. It was him. It was Ven. She ran to join him, falling to bare knees at his feet. She took a hold of his right hand in both of hers and pressed her lips to it.
    
    “My Lord you are home.”
    
    She looked up at him through teary eyes and a feeling of relief flooded through her body. This moment was all but perfect. Ven had returned to her and as he looked down at her, he smiled kindly. He was dressed like business man, like Enver. His outfit was perhaps even something from Enver’s own wardrobe but Keara did not notice. She was too overwhelmed with joy to see that the man before her had in fact already been inside of her home and helped himself to what he found there.

As she’d searched for him in her dream, Keara had called Ven’s name aloud once or twice. She had been in a restless sleep but the moment he appeared to her, she went still, a soft smile on her lips. It wasn’t unusual for her to speak other names as she slept but none would illicit the reaction in Enver that Ven’s name usually did, should he be awake to hear it. He’d never been keen on her speaking of him and so she rarely, if ever mentioned his name in her waking hours. If she needed to reminisce, she could do so with Deanna. There was no need for her to upset her husband through mentioning her sire. Though of course, she had no control over the words that escaped her lips as she slept.

[Enver Marshall II]

The male stood in front of the bathroom mirror as the music he selected for the night for his usual routine. Showering, shaving, doing his hair and getting dressed to go to work. The tall male wasn't that good of a singer, that wasn't one of his talents, but tonight he didn't care. His wife wouldn't care either, not that she was in the room with him at the moment to comment or otherwise.

As the male shaved, he spun around and starting singing along to the song, "The Walker," By Fitz and the Tantrums. If he wasn't spinning on his heels, he was "walking" in one place or singing into the bottom of his triple blade razor. Times like these were far and few between; or never seen by anyone. But tonight, Enver was in a damn good mood. He didn't have anything to complain about really. Lorde had been back for at least a week now, his businesses were doing well; so well the male was thinking about expanding one night, he hadn't seen the shadow realm in about a year and his bank account was quite nice. So nice that if **** hit the fan, his wife and him would be fine for quite a few years before they slowly reestablish themselves where ever she wanted to go.

When he was done shaving, Enver started waving his hands around his face, his reflection in the mirror following his every move and hand gesture he made as he belted out some lyrics, half in tune. Completely oblivious to his wife's current state, what she was dreaming about, and more importantly who she was dreaming about. In this rare moment, Enver was in his own world, basking in his personal limelight. truth be told, the male sometimes missed being the center of attention. Being a star, even. So in here, in his home, in the privacy of their bathroom, he occasionally built himself up and pretended nothing had changed. That he was still a semi-famous, occasionally sought out actor that people wanted to have in their homes; be it through DVD's, through their computer screens or even in some rag magazine that either loved to hate him, or loved to love him.

When the song changed to a less up-beat one, Enver's brows furrowed and he pressed the back button and let it play again. His wife wasn't anywhere to be found. And if she wanted his attention, in his mind, she would have came in already. He wouldn't have been alone in the shower and he wouldn't be left here, in his own world.

With the song playing another time, Enver discarded the towel around his waist, as per their agreement when entering their bedroom and headed into it. Still in his own world, Enver missed the fact his wife was in bed and headed to the closet to get dressed. Though, her in bed after he got up wasn't anything the male wasn't accustomed to. He was always a late to bed and early to rise guy. This life and his last. The male grabbed a suit, put the hanger on the top of the door frame and started getting ready to head into work. First the red colored button down, followed by a tie draped around his neck half-assed for now, before he moved to a dresser and snatched out some boxer briefs and black dress socks. He slipped on the boxer briefs and then moved back to the bathroom, where he forwarded a few tracks to "Come With Me now," by the Kongos. The song was addicting. It was catchy, just like the song prior to it that had been repeated a couple times. He wasn't that great of a dancer, not in terms of freestyling. But he didn't give a damn. Enver's spirits were just too high and again, he was lost to a false reality.

There was a soft caress, perhaps a poke that rippled across his skin as he danced. Enver's left hand swiped at the sensation, uncertain where it came from and why he was feeling it. From what he saw, he had plenty of room to maneuver. Nothing was near him either. Yet, when he turned, Enver felt it again. He swiped at it, then brushed whatever it was off his skin, believing it was dust. Maybe even a spider from a hidden corner of the room that fell out of its web, or decided to reveal itself to get a late night snack. But Enver saw nothing. And he wouldn't either, because he was lost in his own world. His own private dream world, where he was fast asleep next to his wife, who was causing the minor skin irritation as Enver tossed or pressed his frame closer to hers in the moments right before his waking.

[Keara Aithne]

Keara clung to her husband as she dreamed. If he was in the bed with her, her hands often sought him out. There was no way for her to know that he was there or not, not when she was asleep but if he was there, she would usually nestle herself against him. If he moved, she moved. If anyone were in a position to observe the couple, it would have been obvious that even when she slept, she was dependent in some measure on Enver for comfort.

• • "Fair Daria."
    
    Ven motioned for her to stand and she promptly obeyed. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. She did not resist. She never had. She was comfortable in his arms and while she didn't know his body on quite the same level as she knew Enver's, she knew it well enough to know that he had missed her. He held for the longest time and she in return, had wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest.
    
    "You look different dearest Daria."
    
    Ven spoke after a few minutes and when he was done, he stepped back from Keara, took hold of both her hands and looked her over. She blushed to be inspected by him, as it had been quite some time since she had felt his eyes upon her. She wasn't wearing anything that Enver would have considered out of the ordinary, but to Ven the fashions were all new. Her skirt was shockingly short, her corset left little to the imagination and her hair was in a such a mess that to him it looked matted and unkempt. Yet still all he could do was praise her. He released his hold on one of her hands and spun her slowly around so that he could take in the sight of her, and when she came to face him once more, he pulled her in close. Ven lifted her chin and dipped his head to gently kiss her lips, as he wrapped his other hand around her waist to hold her close.
    
    "Time has been good to you Daria," he whispered.
    "No My lord. In that you are wrong. Time has been quite cruel. It has stolen from us almost two hundred years."
    "What are two hundred years when one has eternal life?"
    
    Keara smiled and blushed again. He was, as always, quite right. A couple of centuries were nothing to an immortal. She felt foolish in his arms. She would always be immature in her own eyes when she compared herself to him. He had centuries on her, much as she had centuries on Enver. But Enver was not remembered in this moment. Besides the suit, there was little to remind her of her husband as she stood before her sire. She did not have on her usual jewellery, the precious items he had given her. Her fingers and wrists were bare.
    
    "Oh how I have missed you. You do not know how hard this life has been without you My Lord. I feared that I would never see you again."
    "I feared the same. And yet here you are."
    "How did you find me? This city is so large. It has changed considerably while we slumbered. Do you not agree?"
    "That it has," he laughed kindly. "But you made yourself easy to find."
    "I did?"
    "Yes. Do you think I could forget your given name... My dear sweet Daria." He was shaking his head in mocking disapproval. "Did you forget the tenets by which we lived while you slumbered?"
    "No. Of course not. I could never..."
    
    Her words trailed off as she realised what he was talking about and how he'd found her. The name of the Asylum. She had long ago given up her mortal name and yet here, in this new world, she had reclaimed it. She looked to the doors of the asylum and as she did so, her brow furrowed. Something was wrong. Something was missing. Ven was stood too close to her. He hadn't moved and yet now she felt uncomfortable next to him. She pulled back, her eyes taking in the scene about her. She knew she was forgetting something but she couldn't remember what it was. As her eyes met Ven's, she set the thought aside.
    
    "I did not forget the code My Lord. But we are so far from home. In distance and in years. I reclaimed my name, for I had little else to keep me sane."
    
    I pang in her heart caused her to raise her hand to her chest. She didn't need her name now and she knew it. She had all that she needed to keep her grounded and yet still she could not recall her husband as she stood before her sire.
    
    "I have taken childer. This she remembered with perfect clarity. "I have learned the ways of this new world and I shall endeavour to teach you My Lord, should you that so desire."
    
    She curtseyed to him, stooping low once more. The power dynamic of their relationship was quite unlike that of her’s and Enver's. Ven was in complete control of her and while she was never the sort to remain quiet. She was the sort to respect his decisions and follow by his example. Respect for one’s sire was something every childe of her generation learned, else they perished; sometimes at the hands of a guild but more commonly at the hands of their own sire. At least this had been Keara's experiences up until she re-awoke in Harper Rock.

[Enver Marshall II]

The CD ended with that last song and an awkward silence filled the bedroom. Enver wasn't one that liked silence. Noise was comforting to him. Noise let the male know he was still alive and not in that **** hole, the shadow realm. But he'd always been like that; maybe because as a kid the male was always moving around, was always on the go.

Realizing that time was now against him, as he planned to do a few important things at his businesses, Enver headed back into the bedroom where he finally saw his wife sleeping. Again, not an uncommon nightly occurrence, but with the silence in the room, the male just watched his wife sleep. Well, sort of. He never really understood what happened to some vampires before they woke up. They looked dead, which they were, but how they managed to wake back up from a death like slumber was ******* weird, creepy and amazing at the same time. He didn't stare too long, because the idea of his wife being in a death like state didn't bode well for the male. Sure, she wasn't really dead because if she was, there would be ash and she wouldn't be here, right now. Still, with the male's unhealthy train of thoughts in regards to his wife, he was starting to get angry, upset even, over something that wasn't true. Enver moved back to the suit ensemble where he buttoned his shirt and started looping the tie together when the silence was interrupted.

"Daria?" Enver's eyes narrowed as his neck turned to see who said that. As far as he knew, no one did. He didn't even dare utter that name, for two reasons. She had asked him not to, in fear others may come to learn about who she once was and because it was a name Ven had spoken too many times for Enver's own liking. And with Ven not in the picture, Enver assumed wrongly, that perhaps his wife had told her new thrall, Andrew. Who would he tell? The man was obviously smitten with his wife, to a degree that had Enver planning and plotting his demise in a subtle, sneaky way so that his wife would never suspect he had anything to do with it.

Only it wasn't Andrew. It was some unidentifiable male. A naked male at that. Who the hell did this jackass think he was coming in their home, saying her forbidden name, naked? It didn't take Enver long to find his way between the male and his sleeping wife, given the abilities he'd come to learn on the killer path. "Keara." He corrected the male, with a cool tone to his voice. "It's winter mate, best put some clothes on. Friend to friend tip." While his words reflected subtle humor, Enver was less than amused and he'd be damned if his wife was going to be waking up to some guy standing over her naked.

"I've just returned, boy." The male spoke, his voice scratchy at best. Quiet even. Leading Enver to know that the male had probably been in the realms for a little while. He didn't care about that, what he did care about was what was said after he informed Enver about his absence of clothes. The one word that grated on Enver's nerves. Boy. Judging by the male's appearance, Enver was physically older than him, yet he still decided to call him a boy. As if he were superior to Enver's state of being. While it was true, Enver didn't possess some of the strengths his wife did on the physical sense, he wasn't a weakling in his mind. He was stronger than humans, faster even than them too. And when it came to the vampire side of things, he figured he was average, maybe even high average on the physical aspect of things.

"Enver." Again, there was that cool tone in Enver's voice as he spoke. "Don't believe we've been introduced. I'm Enver Marshall, and you are?" A hand was extended, Enver ignoring the absence of clothes for a second as he tried to sort out who the hell this guy was. The hand was looked at before the other stepped backwards and looked around. "I am right where I'm supposed to be. You see, that woman sleeping there is my wife." The offered hand was dropped the second the male said those words, Enver watching the guy carefully. Either he was nuts or the guy was who Enver thought might come back one night. Deep, in the back of his mind it had always stewed there. If his wife had come back and some others, why not Ven?

"Well, mate. You've been gone a long time and things have changed." Enver started buttoning the sleeves of his shirt, his cheeky, charismatic disposition fading as he spoke and with that came the business like Enver. "Yes. I see that. Back in my nights, you'd be dead. So I'll give you two seconds to tell me why you are in my wife's chambers, boy."

[Keara Aithne]

• • Ven nodded to her and offered her his arm.
    
    "Perhaps you could begin by showing me around your home?"
    "Oh but of course My Lord. If that is your desire. Happy I would be for this for you to do."
    
    They were climbing the steps of the asylum when Keara thought she heard her name being called. It was strange to hear it and she stopped and looked about, as if expecting to see someone hidden in the shadows about them. There was no-one there. The voice sounded familiar and yet she could not recall the name of the one to whom it belonged. Her free hand moved to her stomach as an almost unfamiliar sensation stirred with in her. The name made her stomach flutter and yet she would not link the two events and instead decided that the strange sensation was due to her excitement at finding her sire on her doorstep.
    
    They crossed the threshold with ease and Keara failed to notice that Ven had not yet been invited within its walls. A more alert vampire would have reaslised that this meant her sire had either returned with some of his powers or that he had not sought her out immediately. She also failed to realise that this also meant he'd already been inside her home, as he had not paused for even a moment before following through the heavy set doors with her.

What neither version of the woman had realised, as she slumbered, was that she had touched upon Enver's dream and had heard him mentioning her name. She didn't even know she possessed the power, so as and when this realisation did strike, she would be quite unprepared. Of course first, her subconscious would have to recall the fact that Enver even existed.

• • "I looked for you in that realm for many years and must confess that I quite gave up hope of ever seeing you again until tonight. I believed you had faded to nothing and therefore perished while within its grasp. Nevaeh was quite unable to return under her own power."
    "I looked for you also my dearest and was saddened to think the same fate had befallen you, as you thought had befallen me. As to your sister. Is she still there? I failed also in my search for her."
    "Oh no. She is this side of the divide. I have grown in strength and power since my return and once able to draw a spirit from the other side made contact with my sister. I do not know how it was made possible but I assume that as I reached in, she reached out and she was bound to me. If she to her true form could return, have to admit i would that she is much better suited for this life than I. Her language. Her views. She was quite made for this time. Of that I am certain."
    
    Ven nodded as he listened to her speaking of Deanna. He was happy that both of his childer had made it out of that realm, even if Deanna had to remain a wraith. Her spirit was at the very least safe from torment and she was able to live, even if it was in a more limited form.
    
    The pair walked the length of the hall together as they made their way towards the elevator. When they reached it, Keara pressed the button for the top floor. Even without being able to recall her husband, she was of the mind that her sire had no reason to see her bed chamber. At least not until the hour grew late, or rather early and the sun would be about to rise. Then and only then would he have reason to be lead in that direction so that he might rest in peace for the coming day.
    
    "I am glad to hear that you are both so well adjusted. For well-adjusted you must also be for a life to have made here." Ven began as they stepped into the elevator and headed towards the upper most floor of the asylum. "Are you happy my dear Daria?"
    
    Keara enjoyed hearing her name from his lips and could not help but smile at him with all the warmth and affection she felt for him. It had been such a long time since she had seen him last, since she heard that name spoken aloud by him. And yet still there was a nagging thought in the back of her mind that threatened to spoil this blissful reunion.

This thought was a part of her rational mind and was therefore lost to her. She was no longer the Daria her sire had known. She had changed and grown into her own person in the past three years. Her views were no longer what they once were and while she hunted, she no longer hunted her own kind. Once she had been able to tell the most elaborate of stories and blend in with any walk of life and now, now she was quite distinct in who and what she was and no lie could pass her lips without being immediately corrected. The biggest change, hidden from the sleeping woman was that she was no longer bound to Ven as she had once been, she was bound to Enver and she was happier than she ever thought it possible to be.

[Enver Marshall II]

Boy. There it was again and Enver was starting to loose his cool each time Ven said that word. His tongue clicked against his cheek as Enver finished buttoning his shirt up while he finished the task in silence. "My wife's chambers. And that's not what it's called, dick. It's called a bedroom. Or cell. Take your pick." His eyes narrowed as he stared Ven down. Yeah, he knew the guy was old, but he also knew the guy had been dead a long time.

"So why don't you get some god damn clothes on before she wakes up?" He sneered at the male who was his height, maybe just a little shorter. Enver wasn't about to get that close to find out. Not with his lack of clothing.

And that's when his wife woke up. It seemed the gods, the stars or whatever force there was out there, was working against Enver tonight. "Daria? I have returned." It seemed Enver didn't exist when Keara woke up. Especially when his wife reacted exactly how Enver feared she would if Ven ever returned. After her grogginess wore off, she was up and out of bed and at the knees of Ven. He had seen her do that a time or two before, which had been strange to Enver, but he'd come to realize that Ven and his wife's relationship was a ploy of power. That the male had to have let her know who was in charge, who was the fastest and what she should and shouldn't be like as a creation of his.

Before Keara could even reply, Enver was on top the bed and slamming a fist into Ven's direction. He had worked too hard to help his wife achieve things that should have been natural or secondary to her due to that dick and no way was she going backwards. And no way was he coming near his naked wife either.

"Enver!" Keara's voice pierced through his rage and natural reaction to defend what was his and Keara was his. However, the damage had been done. His fist smacked into Ven's chin, but Ven barely noticed it. Or if he had, he didn't say anything. He didn't react either. Only his wife did. She stood, turned to face him and started to scold him. "This my sire is." The look on her face said it all. Everything Enver thought, everything he suspected and everything he feared was coming true. He was second best compared to Ven. A stand in. A filler even until the night Ven returned.

[Keara Aithne]

• • The elevator dinged but as the doors parted they were not where they were supposed to be. They were on the level that contained Keara's cell. She reached for the button to close the doors and go to the correct level but before she could press it, she felt Ven's hand upon her own.
    
    "I asked if you were happy Daria? Did you not hear me?"
    
    Keara looked at him and instinctively followed as he stepped out onto the wrong floor. Was she happy? Her mind began to race and as much as she wanted to answer and tell him that she was, no words would come from her lips. She raised her right hand to her mouth and stretched her left out to Ven and as she did so, she thought she saw a glimpse of something, or rather multiple things. She saw jewellery there, were before there was none. Of course the first thing that a sane mind assumes is that they are going crazy but as she stared at her hand, the rings re-appeared, only this time they stayed exactly where they were.
    
    "I'm married," she whispered in almost unbelief.
    
    She brought her left hand back to inspect the rings. A beautiful and old looking engagement ring adorned her left ring finger; the purple spinel gem glistening in an ornate, white gold setting. She touched it, adjusted it and then let her delicate fingers fall to the titanium wedding band next to it. The rings did not seem to be well suited in style, a mix of old and new and yet the worked. She was smiling just to look at them. The third ring on her middle finger didn't even draw her eye, but when something appeared on her wrist, her smile widened. The silver necklace that she wore wrapped around there, with a heavy looking silver, corset heart which hung below. It wasn't until the ring and necklace appeared on her right hand though that all the pieces fit together and her smile faded. She'd forgotten the single most important person in her entire life; her husband.
    
    "Enver."
    
    She wasn't even aware of the fact that she'd whispered his name but she had and the moment she did, the two dreams began to merge. She looked up at her sire and saw the world around them begin to change. The wall off to his right became opaque and then it cleared as if she were looking through a window. On the other side of this window was Enver's dream and she watched as he punched some guy in the face. She stared and began to shake as she saw a vision of herself standing between the two men. She looked to her sire but he seemed oblivious to what was going on.
    
    "What is an Enver my dearest?" Ven asked, carrying on the conversation. "And I hardly believe that the fact that you are married should come as a shock to you. We have been bonded some four hundred years."
    
    Keara felt sick. Not only did she now have to face her sire, her former husband, and tell him that she had dissolved their vows, but she had to tell him that she had re-married. She had fallen in love with another. A deep and true love, like nothing she had ever experienced with him. Her right hand covered her chest, her left hand pressed against the wall and she grew dizzy as she looked to her husband, her Enver. She'd forgotten him, he hadn’t existed and now she felt weighed down by guilty for Ven, for him, for the fact that another man's lips had touched hers.
    
    "No!"
    
    In emotional pain, she drew her hand from her heart and slammed a now tightened fist against the imaginary barrier. The glass shattered and fragmented and before the shards could even touch the floor they faded to nothing.
    
    "Forgive me!"
    
    She cried out as she ran towards the man of her dreams. Ignoring the alternative version of herself and the naked man whom she was defending. The dream still seemed real, even though she was looking at herself and she threw her arms around Enver's neck and hugged him tightly.
    
    "Forgive me please My Love. I did not mean to forget you. I could never forget you. I cannot live in a world in which you do not exist."
    
    Tears glistened in her eyes as she pulled back to look into his eyes. This wasn't her. She wasn't the woman he knew. She looked the same, she felt the same and yet Keara only cried while carrying Enos. Her words were as she always thought them; clear and well structured. Her altered speech pattern not present in her subconscious mind.
    
    "Daria! I demand to know who this man is."
    
    Ven's voice echoed in the now enlarged room. It was their bedroom and yet it wasn't. The walls were all in place but the room seemed to comfortably accommodate the five people, even if two of them were duplicates or decoys.

[Enver Marshall II]

His claw clenched together, both slowly and tightly as he stared at his wife. Sure, the guy might be his sire, but he was her very naked ex-husband of a sire and she was practically throwing herself at him. At least that's how Enver saw it and what he told himself as she rose up to defend Ven and chastise Enver for his assault on the dick.

Logically, the guy hadn't really been a dick. He probably hadn't done anything more or less than what Enver would have done if the roles were reversed. The first person he would have sought out was his wife; and he would have been very naked and if he saw some guy he didn't know in their room, he would have asked the same damn questions. Hell, even if it were Crash or that Andrew punk, Enver still would have asked the same questions. However, when it came to his wife and his feelings, Enver was hardly a practical being. Logic was tossed out the window and never seen again.

Just as he was about to move his naked wife out of the way of Ven and tell the guy just who he was and to get the hell out before he found himself on his *** on the street outside, Enver was interrupted. By a second Keara. Followed by some guy he didn't know. Some guy he'd never seen before.

His eyes danced between his naked wife, and then his other wife. A slow quirky grin pulled on his features as he thought about how grand this might actually be, but when both of the males; Ven and the unknown moved, the thoughts about two of the same women alone with him vanished. Even more so when the second Keara was clinging to him and crying. Her words were fluid and not cryptic in any regard, not that Enver had ever had much problems with trying to sort out what the woman was saying.

A wild idea came about his mind. The only one that might make sense in Enver's over-active imagination world. The second woman was an imposter. A pretend Keara. A changeling Keara. The male, her accomplice. And they were here to try and kill his wife and probably him too. "Who the hell are you people?" Enver demanded as his eyes locked on the new arrivals. Ven could wait, as could his wife. For now.

Enver brushed the woman off; the one asking for forgiveness. He wasn't going to fall for the whole damsel in distress bit. It'd been overplayed a hundred times over in his mind by various women he came across. However, there was one thing Enver didn't like to do and that was to rough up a woman. While he pushed her away, his intent was to push her on the bed. Once she was out of the way, he went for the male and without a seconds thought or a pause for hesitation, the guy was tossed right on his *** out their cell window and to the city streets. "I suggest you leave, or you're next." Enver said as he turned his eyes back on the pretend Keara.

[Keara Aithne]

• • What happened next was incomprehensible to her and yet it should have been expected. Enver more or less forced her out of the way and then threw her sire out of the window. Her subconscious mind was so invested in the story they had created that she failed to even realise that their room didn't have a window. Their cell was in the heart of the floor and was surrounded on all sides by other apartments. But such was the nature of a dream. Of course, the guilty she'd felt would not last long. Not under the circumstances she now found herself in. Her physical form stiffened in anticipation of what would come next, for as much as she no longer sounded like herself, she was still the same old Keara.
    
    "Enver!" she practically spat his name in anger; a tone Enver would have been all too familiar with. "How dare you dismiss me in such a way."
    
    This is when reality set in for Keara and she truly took note of the other version of herself the unidentified male. They were naked, Enver was dressed and there was only one logical explanation to it all. Someone was trying to wreck her marriage.
    
    "And I should be the one who is asking who they are?"
    
    Keara points to the naked couple, her eyes never leaving Enver. She had no real interest in the couple besides getting rid of them but before she could do that she had to expose their plan to Enver.
    
    "You cannot believe that I would ever betray you in that fashion." Her explanation began. "I love and adore you Enver and I would not give myself to another. Not willingly. Not knowingly. You are all that require in this and any other life. I know that you know this. Please... Tell me you know this."
    
    Her words had softened and still she spoke with such clarity that they might not be received as she hoped. Keara had crawled across the bed on her knees, her gaze never leaving Enver's face. She needed him to look at her. To see her. To listen to her. Someone was perpetrating a very cruel joke and she wasn't at all happy with the way in which the evening was going.
    
    She'd barely reacted to Ven being ejected from their home. The moment she remembered, Enver, she could have anticipated that reaction from him and she was sure that he would be recognisable from the fact that she had drawn him several hundred times and that Enver had seen at least a few of those drawings in their time together.
    
    "I am your wife," she implored. "Yours. I am yours and you are mine. And the man you just ejected from our cell was my sire."
    
    Her eyes moved briefly from him to the window. She wasn't worried about Ven, he could take care of himself. Many years back she'd seen him fall from the battlements of a castle, so she knew he could withstand the drop of just a few stories. What she could not handle was Enver acting like he didn't know her and the possibility that he might be fooled by the woman that had stolen her identity.
    
    "She is an impostor," she continued, as she pointed to the naked female. "Please tell me that you can see this. That you believe me. What can I do to prove this to you?"
    
    Keara stepped off the end of the bed. As she did so, the alternate version of her joined the conversation.
    
    "Know I do not who you are. But quite mistaken you are. You the impostor are."
    
    As it spoke, the real Keara snarled. She could neither hear, nor discern any difference in the way in which she and the other version of herself spoke. Not in this world. All she knew was that this woman was not her and she was lying to her husband. The fact that she had possible lain with her husband had not even crossed her mind, not with the naked male in the room.
    
    "I cannot lie Enver. This you know."
    
    Keara tried to control her anger but the room around them began to darken anyway. She curled her hands into fists and dug her nails into her palms in an effort to calm the rising storm but it was to no avail. The darkness crept inwards, the furniture began to shake and the bulb in the light overhead shattered.
    
    "I have never lied to you. I could never lie to you. I have told you who I am. Who I was. You accepted me here in this very room. Please. I beg of you. See through this deception."
    
    She felt hurt that Enver did not recognise her, that he might actually believe this other woman over her and as the thought that she might lose him crossed her mind, her dagger appeared in her right hand. She was close to striking out at someone; Enver was usually her preferred target, for as much as she could hurt him, she could never kill him. Harming the woman would be counterproductive, as she would likely only bring her husband's wrath upon herself. This left one of two options; the male she did not know and doubted Enver would defend. Or herself. Turning the blade on herself was something she would typically do to bring about the end of the madness that was stirring in the room about them, but more than that, she could end her life and take herself away from the scene before her. She flicked the dagger in her hand; the blade now lay flat along her arm, the tip pointing to her elbow. This was an action Enver had seen her do a number of times, she could strike out at her enemy from this stance and catch them off guard, as they always underestimated her reach with the blade held thusly. It was also the perfect positioning for gripping with her other hand and lunging it into her stomach or heart; another action her husband had seen on more than one occasion, since gutting herself was about the only thing besides Enver's kiss that could ever calm the storm of her manifesting anger.

As they lay in their bed, the hand that clutched at her husband had released itself and curled into a fist. The pain was barely noticeable in her current state as her dream had her believing that she was doing this and so the pain was to be expected, welcomed even and so it did not even begin to rouse her from her sleep like it should have. Instead her black blood, bubbled and seeped from the wound before being absorbed into the atmosphere around them.

[Enver Marshall II]

Enver's teeth clenched together as the seemingly fake Keara slapped his name out with such force, such haste. And then his teeth ground together as she started to chastise him. His wife doing that in private was one thing, but a woman pretending to be his wife in front of others? Unacceptable.

"You know who they are." He spoke coolly as his eyes narrowed and pierced the set of the pretend Keara. While he was angry, he was looking for subtle signs at just who this person actually was. Their eye color, the shape of their lips as his eyes flicked over her face and even the shade of her dark hair. He knew his wife, every inch of her, and would notice any subtle differences. At least that is what he believed. What he felt deep inside.

"You're lying. He's Ven." Enver pointed to the naked male next to his wife. "I don't know what you're getting at lady, but the other guy wasn't Ven. I'm not an idiot. You don't even sound like my wife." He piped up when his wife actually spoke. The right way.

Enver was so certain the woman pleading before him was not his wife, but as she kept talking, he wasn't so sure. Would anyone besides him know that his wife was incapable of lying? If they did, it had to be someone in the family. Would someone in the family pretend to be his wife? Unlikely.

As the room darkened, Enver looked between each woman. "Knock that crap off. Whoever is doing that." Since he still wasn't sure who was who, he decided to address them both at the same time. Two birds, one stone.

The second Keara, the naked one had remained quiet through all of this, minus the one interjection when the other spoke. When she sounded like his wife. His eyes bobbed from the naked one, to the real one and as he did this, the clothed version of his wife revealed a knife. The knife from her father. The knife that had threatened the both of them on a few occasions.

His attention moved to the naked Keara completely when he saw that. "Who the hell are you, lady?" He moved towards her, forgetting about the other Keara; the real one for now. A long index finger stopped short of her nose as he threw another question at her. "And how the hell did you get in here?" Not once had Enver received any messages on his phone about any breech in the security measures he placed.

"I, your wife am. Prove it, I shall." The woman spoke quietly, still practicing the unique way his wife spoke, as she approached him and pressed her lips to Enver's. He didn't respond, mostly because he hadn't expected that response from the woman. Which only made her solidify the kiss that much more as arms looped around his neck, and a leg wrapped around his.

He knew in that moment that this was not his wife. No matter how much she looked like her. Spoke like her and even smelled like her. Her lips were not the same when locked with his. A hand went to her shoulder, and wrapped around it, feeling the softness of her silky skin before Enver gave her a gentle push away. Not enough to throw her off him, but enough to let her know that he knew she was not his wife and that he didn't want anything to do with her or her advances.