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He sat by her bedside, holding her hand, watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Her skin was paper thin, now, creased with age. Most of her friends, the women she had been a girl with, were long dead. Twenty, thirty years. Some of them even longer, lost in childbirth or to illness. Life was hard in the wilderness they were carving into, marking with the path of civilization that had barely arrived on the continent in the two centuries Europeans had been attempting to tame it. At 87, she was near-ancient, outliving all she had loved save the man now seated by her side, holding fast to the fragile hand where he could still feel a tiny pulse of life.

His eyes swept over her, shadowed and a touch lost. He had never known love like this, not been accepted for who he was since the boy he no longer allowed himself to think about. She had known him, accepted him, loved him, been faithful to him, and shown him there was still something good in the world.

And now she was fading from it.

He could still see the girl she had been, shimmering underneath the lines time had etched. It marked her in ways he would never know, taking its toll year after year, but when he looked at her, time's ravages were not what he saw, but time's blessings. She had fretted when they moved, telling people he was her son. She had cried when the story shifted, and they told their neighbors he was her grandson. Pretty girls, blossoming in their transient youth, had flirted with him in front of her, admiring his care for the old woman they dismissed with a glance, never noticing the way he held her arm, cradled close to him, or the near disdain in those ice blue eyes when they rested on the children flaunting their charms. He felt her tremble, overhearing their words, attempting to pry him from her side for a dance, a dinner, a walk in the moonlight, and one night, in tears, she whispered that he should go, that he deserved better, that she was too old for someone like him. He kissed away her tears and carried her to bed to prove her wrong.

What did lines in skin matter, when her soul still nestled inside of his own? Why would he flinch where muscle sagged, when she still smiled at him with that perfect acceptance, when the stories they shared, the life they built, sprawled out through decades like he had never known? His eyes filled with tears he was unaccustomed to shedding, coursing down his cheeks, and the sound of the sob he muffled, turning his head to his own shoulder, made her stir, opening her eyes to study him with a soft gaze.

"It's nearly time," she whispered, and the sob choked in his throat this time, even as he forced himself to meet her eyes. "Will you hold me?"

Swallowing back the tears, he gave her a smile, shifting to stretch out on the bed beside her and pull her into his arms, cradling her against him. "I love you," he whispered back. "Our marriage, our life...I have been happier by your side than I have ever been, in all my years of life."

She smiled at that, pillowing her head on his chest and lifting one hand to rest over his heart. "Promise me you'll find happiness again."

"Angelica..."

"Promise me." There was a sternness in her voice, even as soft as it was.

"One day," he finally allowed. "I promise, one day. But not...not for a very long time, I think."

"Well, I wouldn't want it to happen too quickly," she said, lips curving a bit. "Allow me a touch of selfishness..."

He chuckled at that, through the tears, and she pressed a soft kiss to the fabric of his shirt before closing her eyes, the faint smile still on her face. It was still there, even as he felt the gentle rise and fall of her chest cease, the beat of her heart grow silent and the heat of his tears as they ran down his cheeks unchecked.

OOC

Date: 2008-05-29 07:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wild-maggie.livejournal.com
... Suddenly I'm wondering, if he and Maggie do work out, and she does live a good 2-300 years?

How hard is that going to be?

Re: OOC

Date: 2008-05-29 07:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] changehistory.livejournal.com
Killer. V. V. killer. I am exceptionally happy that we'll likely never really have to play that, because I don't want to think how he'd react to losing someone after centuries.

Re: OOC

Date: 2008-05-29 07:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wild-maggie.livejournal.com
Ye-e-eah. It just struck me, because part of Maggie was a little relieved to see that just because someone aged didn't mean he stopped loving them, etc, the whole immortality thing. And then it occurred to us that no mattre how long-lived wizards are, they do age and eventually die.

And, yeah. Not fun.

Re: OOC

Date: 2008-05-29 07:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] changehistory.livejournal.com
Awww, yeah. He's v. like Methos in that. Leaving someone because they aged is not anything he'd ever do. It doesn't lessen his love--just saddens him as a reminder they are mortal and will die.

On the other hand--unlike Methos and Byron and other Immies in my head--Adam has never even had a friend who was immortal with him until the chance of Peter? So..he is well aware and used to it.

Re: OOC

Date: 2008-05-29 07:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wild-maggie.livejournal.com
Heh. Maggie's been too long around Justin and the White Court, I think. Even in the 'verse where she and Justin are happily married for, like, ever, Justin had a mild mid-life crisis (ish) over his first gray hairs. So she's a little self-conscious about that.

And... yeah. I bet he is. *sighs* Well, at least Maggie is long-lived? Although I'm not sure that's an at-least. ... yeesh, he's, what, 400 years old or thereabouts? She could, if I remember correctly, sticka round with him for that over again.

Re: OOC

Date: 2008-05-29 07:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] changehistory.livejournal.com
Awww. Adam's all, "there's sex that's just, 'i'm pretty, you're pretty, let's see what we can get our bodies to do together.' and then there is sex with someone you love and it doesn't matter what they look like, because the physical is just an expression of what's between your hearts.'" So when someone he loves ages--he still loves them, still desires them, and doesn't get why they don't understand that.

Yeah...370 or so. Really? That long?

Re: OOC

Date: 2008-05-29 08:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wild-maggie.livejournal.com
Maggie's murmuring something about him being a good man, at least in this way, and. Heh. That probably got her to fall for him a little bit.

Yep. Well, I think so. The oldest confirmed wizard is 250 or so, but I think I remember something in the text about another one being older and around 500. I think. I could be making that up out of half-memories. But I think that's true.

Re: OOC

Date: 2008-05-29 09:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] changehistory.livejournal.com
Awwww. He has his moments. :-) I mean, he's a bastard who'd v. much be okay with killing most of the people in the world to restart it in his own image of what's right, and he's manipulative and uses people like his own personal toys....but he does fall in love and he does do so genuinely, still.

Hmmm. V. v. interesting.

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