I lie on my stomach, my body growing more tense every moment, with both actual pain and the anticipation of greater pain to come. It seems hours that I lie here alone. The room is far too quiet - the windows are closed, the door and walls too thick to allow through any sound but those of surpassing volume. If any footsteps pass the door, I do not hear them. If any bird sings beside the window, I do not hear it. I am in too much pain to move, and so my range of vision is limited. But the room is like any other, luxurious and opulent, richly decorated in warm tones, and there is nothing new to be seen. What small details have been added as points of interest are not enough to hold my attention against the flames which creep across my back, scalding and scorching the flesh as they pass, I can feel it peeling away, my skin crawling and trying to free itself from the nerves which so bind it to the excruciating torment.
        Where is that girl! Luce promised her immediate attention - why did he not call her with the same method he used for our breakfast? She would have been here the moment we arrived. This is certainly more important than a bite to eat, whatever was Luce thinking! Or does she dawdle? Oh I shall have it out with her if that is so! Of course she would not admit to it but I shall know, I will see it in her timid face and nervous eyes. I will teach her to toy with the likes of me! Oh that little---
        There is a polite knock at the door.
        "Come in!" I demand irritably, seething in anger, which is only amplified by the ever-growing pain.
        The door makes scarcely a sound, but the soft click of the latch as it is closed. "Lock the door," I command without looking up, my voice short and clipped, as a flame of heat shoots down my spine.
        "Yes, sir."
        My eyes fly open and I turn over, for a moment forgetting my inner troubles in light of this new one - it was a male voice that answered me.
        "Who are you!" I scream, this incomprehensible outrage tipping me fully into outright fury.
        "I... I am the masseuse, sir. Master Lux directed me to attend to anything you might need."
        "You are not---" Oh but of course Luce has more than one. "Is she--- no he did this on purpose!" I cry. "You! Get me the girl, there is a female masseuse, a girl with dark hair pulled into a knot at the back of her head. She is the only one that can soothe this bring her here NOW!"
        The servant quickly bows and nearly flies out the door - forgetting in his embarrassed fear that it is locked, the fool!
        "GET OUT!" I shriek, the flames engulfing my body forcing my voice desperately from me. "I want the girl! Luce you bastard you know I wanted her!"
        The man's shaking hands finally manage to work the lock, and he rushes from the room, barely closing the door behind him. He had best find her immediately, for if I have to wait still longer--!
        Luce Luce you fucking bastard I will--- Luce I curse you for all eternity you selfish beast! You know what pain I am in, you know the severity of my condition, that you should toy with me! As if I were one of your countless human playthings, those whose emotions you tug about as a puppet's strings--- I am not one of them! Luce you worm, how could you treat one of us like this!
        "Luce!" I scream, tearing at the curtains which hang around the bed, ripping the shimmery fabric into pieces. "You will not play such games with me--- ah!" I fall to the floor, my breath torn from me in the blinding agony which seems to smash my back into pieces. What breath I can grab om me in shrieks of pure torment, all thought is burned away and consumed by this raging darkness.
        Dimly I feel a shift in the air, and there are hands on my back.
        "Don't touch me!" I scream, writhing on the floor.
        But the hands only tighten their hold on my shoulders, and I wheel away from the grasp to look into the face of the one so impudent as to---
        It is her.
        I frozen, I do not know whether I should scream in rage or cry in relief. "You!" I choke out, my body shaking.
        She wastes no time in speaking, but pushes my body to the floor, her strong arms brooking no argument. She lays me on my stomach and tears my shirt from me - taking no great care this time, for she knows there are things of far more importance. I am helpless in her grasp, the pain has overtaken me, and the mere act of breathing requires all my effort. She seats herself astride my hips, and leans into me, her hands plunging deep into the fire, fighting to quell it.....

        I have returned to myself when there is a knock at the door. The girl pauses, and I nod. "Do answer it, dear." I am in a more respectable position now, resting on the bed. I move to sit up, leaning against the pillows; my motions are slow and stiff, my body exhausted.
        She opens the door, and curtsys politely. It is one of us, then--- Oh if it is Luce I shall wring his neck I will---
        "May I enter, my dear Veri?" The voice is faint, exhausted, and my heart is moved by - by pity, I suppose, it is a feeling so foreign to me that I am uncertain of how to name it.
        "Meres! Oh do let him in, girl, and close the door. Meres, darling! Wherever have you been? ---oh darling you look dreadful! Here, do come rest on the bed beside me, it is quite comfortable. Shall I have anything brought for you, something to drink..?"
        "Water. Just a glass of water..."
        I nod toward the girl. "Bring a full pitcher as well, I could use some myself."
        "Certainly, sirs," she replies, and with another quick curtsy, she exits.
        Meres sits heavily on the bed beside me, leaning back on his elbows and closing his eyes. I place a hand gently over his, looking at him with curiosity and concern. There are dark circles beneath his reddened eyes, his lovely auburn hair is tousled and unkempt. His hair is damp, as if he had recently bathed, but he shows none of the freshness of it. His clothes are rumpled, his shoulders sagged, his brow creased. He constantly turns over his hands, rubbing them together, as if they were cold. His breathing is strange and irregular, almost hiccuping, almost as if crying...
        "Meres..." I lean forward, and put my arms tentatively around him. It is not a gesture common to us, but... something in me demands I touch him. Ridiculous human convention, this physical contact, but I suppose now that we are bound in such form, its needs will inevitably sink into us. It does feel... as though it is something I should be doing, the response to some ancient desire, some plan long neglected...
        He swallows hard and raises his hands - they are shaking terribly - to grip tightly at my arms. His hands are cold, even to my always chilled flesh, they are ice! And oh how they tremble... this is not at all like him.
        "Meres, dear one... is there anything I might do for you? What has happened?"
        His body tenses with a sudden ferocity, and he whirls away from me. "Do not ask me that," he commands, and his voice is as cold as his hands. His eyes are narrow and dark, so dark! He has never looked at me with such frigid rage, there are flames there, flames which should freeze and burn, flames far sharper than those which scald my back, flames which freeze the universe until it fractures under the strain and leaks scraps of fragmented starlight into the icy ether...
        I am terrified of this side of him.
        I hold myself motionless, my mind racing to determine what best to do to soothe his rage, while remaining utterly frozen in the realization of his expression.
        We remain locked in stillness for a long moment, and then at last he softens, a shadow of a smile brushing against his face. "Veri, my beloved one, I... I do not mean to speak to you thus. Here, darling, lie down, you were in such pain - I heard your cries, that is what brought me back to myself, and thus back to your side..."
        Cautiously, I lie back against the pillows, my eyes never for a moment leaving him. A rapid succession of emotion crosses his face, his eyes deeply troubled. There is such tumult there, I feel as though I can hear the screaming of the thoughts which run ceaselessly through his mind... but they are just distant enough that I cannot make out the exact words. Oh it does not matter, it is some trouble of his own, it will be resolved in time, or forgotten in not much longer time.
        But he has returned to me, and that lends me... some feeling of comfort, which I so rarely can grasp.
        He stays seated at the edge of the bed a few minutes more, the furrows in his brow creasing deeper and deeper, until I fear they shall remain there always. I sit up again, and brush my fingers tenderly over his forehead, willing it to smooth again. "Meres, darling... you must rest. Come lie beside me, we shall not be disturbed here. We both need rest..."
        Another long pause, and then he sighs, and a smile flits ghost-like over his lips. "Ah, dearest, you are right of course... are you cold? Let me turn down the blankets, that we may keep them over us. The day is waning, the sun's warmth leaving, but the comfort of night will soon be upon us. Let us rest until then, shall we?"
        I nod, and kiss his cheek gently. "I am glad to see you again."
        "As am I, my dear..."