Chapter Text
His skin was burning. The ground that he lay upon was scorched from the searing heat that was all around. The reeking smell of burning flesh filled his senses and he knew it was his as the flames danced higher and higher. It was suffocating and every ragged, agonizing breath he still took wracked his body with pain.
He was dying.
Somehow he turned his head only to see his brother, eyes glazed over, his fëa having already fled the horror that was all around. Dust and death were his only company now. His breathing was labored and wet. He was bleeding out. The darkness would feast well tonight. Movement in his peripheral pulled his attention and he turned his gaze upwards and away as the beast Undolaurë prepared to finish what he had begun.
He supposed it was fitting that it would end like this.
As the smell of sulfur filled the air, he closed his eyes as he always did when he wanted to see her. Dark hair framing her face, grey eyes that could take on hues of green and blue depending on mood or whim, pale skin and graceful neck that he had desperately desired to press his face against, becoming lost in the embrace he had long denied himself out of duty.
Yes, he supposed it was quite fitting that it should end like this.
The pain was blinding as the flames engulfed his body.
Andrea awoke with a gasp, eyes wide. She lay there for a moment as she calmed her mind and confirming that she was indeed not on fire but safe in her room, covered in sweat and clutching the sheets of her bed that twisted around her. She brought a hand to her chest and could feel her heart pounding. Her other hand went to her head and she raked her fingers through her hair, pulling away the sweat soaked strands that were stuck to her face.
What the fuck.
She slowly turned and rose up from her bed. A quick glance at her alarm clock told her the time was 4:00am.
Ugh.
She shuffled to the door and then to the bathroom to relieve herself. She flicked on the light and looked at the reflection in the mirror that squinted back at her.
Yeesh.
After her business was done she went to the kitchen, poured a glass of milk and plopped down at the kitchen counter. She would not be able to go back to sleep for a bit after that one. They had been getting worse lately. Far more vivid than they had had been in quite some time. This one especially. But what she really hated about them was how it was always Agner who was in them. She supposed it made sense on some subconscious level. They had been spending more time together, meeting for lunch or dinner or lunch and dinner. They would spend hours sitting in the little patio garden area he had on top of his apartment discussing the various artifacts in his collection or what the topic of her lecture had been that afternoon. He used to stop by to listen to her lectures but Andrea had to put a stop to that. Not that she did not like when he would come to the campus to see her, but she found that he was too much of a distraction when he came into the class. And not just for her but for her students as well, male and female.
She could not blame them though, it was difficult not to notice him. Tall, blonde, and perfect to the point one would think he was photoshopped. When class was done many of the female students would linger or walk out slowly, casting blatantly appraising looks his way. But if he ever noticed he never showed it. He would simply wait till the room was clear and then make his way over to her podium, his eyes never leaving her the entire time. It would be a lie if she said she did not love every minute of it.
The creak of door opening pulled her from her reverie and she looked up expecting to see her roommate emerging from the hallway. But instead of Kate she saw Gabe, Kate's faux boyfriend entering the kitchen, pants loosely fastened around his waist, face illuminated from the faint glow of his phone.
Who the hell is he texting at 4am?
Glanced up at Andrea with a nod of his head.
"S'up," he mumbled.
Andrea took a gulp of her milk.
He either did not notice or did not care about the look of not so subtle annoyance at his presence from Andrea. Turning back to his phone he walked over to the fridge and, to Andrea's consternation, grabbed the milk and took a swig straight from the carton. She felt her teeth grind.
"We have glasses," she said rather flatly.
"Nah I'm good," he answered still clueless, "just wanted a little."
Andrea ground her teeth some more as he turned around and leaned against the counter, looking back at his phone.
"Can't sleep?"
"Now what makes you think that?" she replied sweetly.
"Dunno," he shrugged, still oblivious, "because you're up."
Andrea was about to marvel at his keen power of observation but decided against it.
"Any luck with that guy you're seeing?"
Andrea looked at him for a moment wondering what could possibly be bringing on this sudden need for him to converse. She could not help but think that Kate had something do with it and wondered what else she may have told him.
"Yeah fine. We're fine. Everything is fine … I guess."
Gabe glanced up at her from his phone.
"I mean, as much as it can be, you know how these things are, in the beginning. It's just, you know kind of going and … we'll see what … you know …" Andrea trailed off. What the hell was she saying?
Gabe on the other hand had returned to his phone.
"Huh, no I don't know. You either are or you aren't," he glanced back up at her again from his phone and if it were not for the dim lighting, she could have sworn she saw the hint of a smile on his face. "Do you know?"
Andrea stared at him for a moment but before she could even think of an answer he had already turned and headed down the hallway.
Asshole, she hissed in her mind. She did not think it was possible to dislike him as much as she already did but somehow she managed it. But not because he had been rude or said something inappropriate, but because he was right.
She didn't know. She had no idea.
They had been spending time together of course and it has been wonderful. And it seemed to Andrea as if he enjoyed the time spent together as much as she did. He never skipped out on plans or was late. He was always insisting on picking up the tab, holding doors, taking her hand and wrapping it around his arm. He was attentive in a way Andrea had never experienced in a person before. He would listen to her every word, notice her every action, he would stare at her to the point that she would hide behind her hair to hide the blush she could feel burning at her cheeks.
But other than flirtatious looks and chivalrous behavior there was nothing else to report. Nothing. The last and only time they had kissed being the time she had lunged at him in the hallway and then beat a hasty retreat into her apartment. She had to admit she had surprised even herself with that little display. Not that she regretted it. It had been quite exciting with even the rushed urgency of it. He had not resisted or pulled away at all. In fact, even though he had not expected it, he had been a very willing participant. When she had pressed her lips against his, there had perhaps been a moment's hesitation on his part. But when he did not pull back she became even braver and kissed him a little deeper, pressing herself against him. It was not till she felt his hands move to the small of her back that she pulled back and away. It was perhaps a bit of a pricktease-ish move but she knew if she continued she would not be able to stop and she did not want to go there with him, not yet. It had been a long time since she had been with anyone intimately … a very long time. She did not wish to repeat past mistakes. And so, after making the first move, after making her interest known, she decided to step back and allow him to take the initiative.
But now a week has gone by and he still has not done anything. Not one thing. And it was not like Andrea was not giving him plenty of opportunity. She would meet his gaze head on, silently screaming for him to kiss her only to have him turn away. She would lean in close when they would look at something, or hug him good night with her head against his chest looking up at him. But all he would do is cup her face in his hand, place a lingering kiss on her forehead and then withdraw. It was all becoming quite frustrating to Andrea and she said as much to Kate the next morning.
"And you're sure he's not gay?"
Andrea sat slumped over her coffee, her head leaning into one hand as she struggled to wake fully. By the time she had managed to fall back asleep it was time for her to get up and so now she sat in what felt like a semi-catatonic state as she nursed her cup of liquid caffeine.
She sighed upon hearing Kate's question. It was the third time she had asked.
"He's not gay."
"Don't get pissy," Kate protested, "he's beautiful, a great dresser, and has impeccable hygiene, I mean seriously. It's a valid question."
Andrea yawned while simultaneously stretching her arms above her head. "He's not gay," she repeated.
"Asexual?"
"No."
"A virgin?"
Andrea opened her mouth to speak and paused for the briefest of seconds. Is he a virgin? She shook her head at the thought.
"No, at least I don't think so."
"What do you mean, you don't think so?"
"I mean, it's not like it has come up in conversation Kate. 'Oh this restaurant is lovely, by the way, how many women have you slept with, if any?'"
Kate shrugged. "Maybe he went all Duggar clan and took some vow of celibacy till marriage, you don't know."
"I really don't think that is it."
"Well then," Kate said as she sat down across from Andrea at the table, "it is one of two things then. Either he is just not into you or you have been friend-zoned."
Andrea thought that for a moment. It could not be that he was not into her. She had asked him. He said he was. He had said that he was perhaps too much, whatever that means. What did that mean? He had also said that he did not want her to get hurt. Andrea had taken that to mean that he had a previous relationship that ended badly and did not want to rebound with her. But maybe she had taken his meaning all wrong. Maybe he was only interested in friendship. After all, she had given him plenty of opportunity had she not? What if he thought her waiting for him to act was her own lack of interest? No, no, no calm down, you are over thinking this. Just. Calm. Down.
As Andrea sat there, her thoughts racing through her head, hers eyes became wider and wider and her hands came up slowly to cover her mouth as she rested her elbows on the table.
"Look," Kate said, picking up on her friends inner turmoil, "don't freak out, I am sure he likes you. Every time you call him he comes running. Maybe the two of you just need a change of scenery you know? Somewhere where it's just the two of you, away from the city?"
"Like where?" Andrea's voice sounded muffled from behind her hands.
"Well, what about that place you always go to at the beginning of the school year, that camping place, you know, Cow Lake –"
"– Moose Pond –"
"– whatever, just take him there with you. You and him, by a lake, in a tent in the middle of nowhere, peeing in the woods. Get him out of his element and maybe the two of you can, you know …" Kate's expression became more mischievous as she spoke, getting her message across as she went on.
But something about what Kate had said had piqued Andrea's interest. She was planning on going. She went every year, just before the weather dropped and the snow came in. It was almost a days drive to get up there from the city but her family had a cabin and she would stay the first night there and then hike the trail to "her favorite spot where she would set up her tent on the rock face near the water. They might even be able to take the horses out if they were lucky. She loved this … but would he?
"What if he says no?"
Kate looked at her as if she had not considered that outcome.
"Then fuck him. I'll go with you!"
This caused Andrea to bust out laughing as anyone who knew Kate knew that she hated camping.
"The last time you said you wanted to go camping we ended up at a Ritz-Carlton and ended up scrambling for rent."
"Uh it was a mountainside resort, not a Ritz-Carlton and I seem to remember some of the cabins had outdoor bathrooms which is pretty outdoorsy. But not this time, oh no," Kate exclaimed as she jumped up and ran over to throw herself down on Andrea's lap, "this time we will sleep in a tent and kill what we eat and have our own romantic little getaway and get naked and bath in water that animals pee in!" she declared as she tried to kiss Andrea while Andrea struggled to push her away while laughing.
"Sweet, can I watch?"
The girls stopped their horseplay to see Gabe standing at the fridge, carton of milk in hand. Andrea felt her teeth grind.
"Hey bae," Kate said as she hopped up and went over to give him a kiss, "we were just talking about going camping. I told Andrea I would go with her if Agner didn't."
Kate rested her chin on Gabe's shoulder but his attention was already back on his phone.
"Hope he likes being outside more than you do," he mumbled as he went back down the hall to Kate's room. Kate turned and looked at Andrea.
"Oh my God, does he?"
"You know," Andrea said thoughtfully, "he must have mentioned it before because I am pretty sure he does."
Andrea watched as Agner reached across the table to pour more wine in his glass. She had come over for dinner and could not help but be impressed with the spread he had laid out. Seared mahi with some sort of butter sauce with basil and vegatables and fresh made bread with olive oil. Andrea had not been impressed as much as amazed to see that he had prepared everything himself, even the bread. When she asked him where he learned to cook he just shrugged and said that it was something the men in his family had done for as long as he could remember. Andrea could not help but feel that all of her feeble attempts at disguising take out as homemade had been seen through.
They sat now on the rooftop patio, drinking some strange wine that Agner had said was very old and rare. It had a strange but pleasant taste, somehow managing to be both sweet and dry at the same time. Andrea fought the urge to drink it like water. Especially when they began one of their discussions. If she drank too much wine she would become easily distracted by his eyes or the familiar way he would look at her at times. She liked to be focused for their little debates, it was the one time she felt she was on equal footing.
"You go down a perilous path when you start judging historical figures by modern standards," he said taking a sip from his glass, "there is a bigger picture that must be appreciated. A way of life then, although repugnant now, would hardly be an outlier in society at that time."
"But the dark side of these "great" men must be exposed, must be told, in order for history to be true," she interjected. "If you allow certain details to be cherry picked while others are disregarded is simply unjustice. Is it right to celebrate a man who while a great statesman was still a bigot?"
"History is complicated and so are they people who make it. The truth of the matter is that great people sometimes do terrible things, and terrible people sometimes do great things. To simply erase every person in history who we find abhorrent along with everything they accomplished is to deny the very contradictions that is humanity. That is where the knowledge lay."
"I suppose you are right about that," Andrea relented. "Students today have never known a time when they can't choose their own media, truth or history. Everything is either all good or all bad and the only reality that they hear is the one that reaffirms their own preconceptions I suppose." Andrea sighed and leaned back in her chair. "The test of a first rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in the mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function."
"F. Scott Fitzgerald."
"I was going to say my dad but," Andrea grinned, "I suppose Fitzgerald said it first."
"He did."
"I guess you would know."
"I would."
Andrea laughed. "Are you ever wrong?"
Agner smiled ruefully. "Only when it counts."
"So you admit you can make mistakes?"
"Oh yes," he answered, "I have most certainly made mistakes."
"Oh really, do tell."
Agner stared at her for what felt like to Andrea was an eternity before he spoke.
"Not tonight."
Andrea decided to change the subject.
"Hey so," she said getting up and moving over so that she sat next to Agner facing him, "I was wondering something. Um, every year I go upstate to this spot, in the Adirondacks, it's a lake, well a pond, it's called Moose Pond, but it could be a lake, anyway I go camping up there. It's a day's drive from the city, near this little town called Bloomindale up I-87, anyway, we have a cabin and there are trails that take you to the water, that's where I take a tent and camp, by the water, anyway I was going to go up there and camp, like I said and I was, uh wondering if, um you might want to or like to go … with … me … I also ride horses."
I'm an idiot.
Agner looked at her yet again and Andrea found herself getting caught up in the strange swirl of lights that seem to come from his eyes. This time it truly was an eternity. He was taking too long to answer. Andrea wished she had never opened her mouth.
"You know what? Don't worry about it," she said in an attempt to sound casual. "It's not a big deal and you probably have stuff to do and stuff to … do so, just, you know don't worry about it. Kate was thinking about coming anyway." She jumped up from the sofa and made for the ladder that went back to the apartment window. "It's late so I should –"
Andrea stopped, or was stopped mid step as Agner took her hand and turned her around. She had not even heard him get up.
"Andrea, if you would stop for just a moment, I am trying to tell you that I would very much like to go."
Andrea blinked.
"Oh? OH! Okay! That's great. Okay. You'll go! It'll be great."
I am the biggest idiot.
"Before you go, I have something for you but it is inside."
"Oh?"
They made their way down the ladder and through the window to Agner's room. Once they were inside Agner went over to the side table next to the bed and pulled out something wrapped in a cloth.
"I do not know why I made this."
Andrea took the item from Agner's hand a removed the cloth.
"I am afraid my skills are a bit out of practice. It has been a long time since I have done this, but the florist assured me the flowers were of the same kind. I am almost certain it is accurate."
Andrea looked down at her hands. Within them were flowers that were woven into a wreath much like the dried one in the case. Andrea's fingers moved gently over the tiny delicate blooms.
"Morning glory, Nightshade, Oleander, Blood root, Fox Glove, Belladonna," she whispered, "all beautiful. All poisonous."
Something was shifting again, and she felt almost as if she were back in some sort of dream state as her hand almost involuntarily moved to place the wreath atop her head. Her mind felt heavy and her eyes moved to find his and it seemed as if they were in a dream. And for a moment she thought perhaps she was back in one of her dreams because when she found his eyes she saw pain.
He reached for her slowly, a hand that caressed her cheek and then gently run through her hair to cup the back of her head. She did not resist as he pulled her closer, their lips barely touching. Andrea looked into his eyes and if her world was unsteady before it was a lost in a raging sea now. She could not think. A hand moved across her back as hers went up and around his neck. She realized that he was shaking as his lips came down on hers.
This was not the rushed hit and run of their first kiss in the hallway. This was slow and hesitant, it was gentle and soft and exploratory. But soon trembling hands began to tighten their grip around her waist and Andrea felt a dizzying tide of warmth come over her as the kiss swiftly intensified. Insistent mouths parted lips and bodies pressed hard against the each other as Andrea attempted to tread the waves of giddiness that came over her. Bodies writhed and she realized that at some point they had found their way to the bed and were laying down as he pulled apart her shirt and his mouth moved down her neck. His mouth found hers again and she was lost in the fury of his need.
This was right. This was meant to be. She knew this. She had always known this. He was for her and she for him. There was no other nor ever would be. His mouth moved back to her neck as he pressed his body against her.
"Aegnor," she gasped.
And suddenly he stopped, frozen, he stared down at her, his eyes wide.
"What did you say," he whispered.
Andrea blinked, confused, her head still blurry, vision unclear.
"What?"
"What did you say," he repeated.
"I don't ... Agner?"
Agner squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head down so that his forehead was against her chest. She was certain he could feel her heart pounding against it. He seemed to tense as his arms came around her waist and he held onto her. She thought he heard him whisper the words no no no against her skin. She ran her fingers through his hair and tried to hold him back when he pulled away and slowly sat up.
"Agner," she softly, "Agner what is it? What's wrong? Did I do something? Agner please."
But he still said nothing, he only sat at the end of the bed, hunched over with his head in his hands as he brought his ragged breathing under control.
As Andrea watched him compose himself, she became suddenly aware of the fact that her shirt was somewhere on the floor of the room and she was in nothing other than her bra and jeans. A mixture of embarrassment and anger began to come over her. If he did not want this to happen then he should have said so. This was not her fault … well, not entirely. She moved to get up and retrieve what was left of her shirt when a hand on her arm stopped her.
"No," he looked at her, eyes imploring, "no, please, do not go. Forgive me. I just … please, stay … please … don't leave."
Andrea paused. Something in voice seemed so fragile, so helpless, almost desperate. She sat down next to him, her arms wrapping around his neck once more to pull him into an embrace. They lay back down on the bed as she held him, her fingers running through his hair.
They lay there for several moments that way, arms wrapped around the other, his head against her chest as he listened to the metronomic beating of her heart. After a while her breathing evened out to the slow repetitive rhythm of sleep and he unwound himself from her arms, careful not to wake her.
He stood there for the rest of the night, watching her in the dark.
She had said his name.
He was acting a fool. A careless selfish fool. Becoming caught up in the memory of something denied. And if he had taken her, what then? Does he tell her what he is? Does he tell her what he has done? She would think him mad and send him away and rightfully so. He did not deserve her and she did not deserve to be put through this.
She is not Andreth!
And yet he knew. When he looked at her, sleeping in his bed, her dark hair spread out around pale skin he knew. He could not let her go. Not again.
But what would be the cost?