Ouroboros

[slut_in_white]

Ouroboros (closed for a_libertine)

20 more dead.

Ana Wilmont was assigned the unenviable duty of dealing with the bodies. Outside the make-shift hospital in some God-forsaken part of France, she stood in the rain, looking down at twenty dead bodies. Her dress had once been blue, but she was covered in dirt and blood from a long, particularly nasty day of dealing with a constant influx of dying soldiers. So few had survived the most recent push forward. So many came to the hospital screaming, and the doctors had little recourse but to ease their pain during their passing.

The men in front of her were so broken that they were barely recognizable. Some had been burned, some had been torn apart. Some had been out for long enough that animals had started getting to them. Had this been earlier in the war, Ana would have wretched, but perhaps it was a sad statement of her mental state that the sight no longer sickened her that way.

She went from man to man, taking the dog-tags, marking the bodies, wrapping them, and saying a short prayer. She sagged a little more with each man, emotionally and physically exhausted. It had been a bad day, to say the least.

She stood over the fourteenth man, her eyes closed, sighing heavily in preparation of yet another prayer, asking God to welcome yet another man into heaven. It was quiet, but for the sound of the rain on the mud.

That was why it startled her so badly when the man drew in a pained, ragged, desperate breath. Ana jumped back, strangling a scream. It didn't take her long to recover, though, and she dropped to her knees next to him, her mind switching from acceptance of death to trying to figure out how best to ensure that he kept breathing.

"DOCTOR!" she cried, leaning over him and holding out her shawl to protect him from the rain.

Two men came out, looking alarmed; they'd heard her scream. "Ana? Are you alright?"

She looked up. "Help me get him inside! He's still alive!"

Both men immediately jumped into action, lifting the soldier to bring him indoors. "What?! How?!" There was no way he's been living when he had been declared dead - he'd been very badly injured and his heart had stopped. That his heart seemed to have restarted on its own, with no external aid, was nothing short of a miracle.

 

[a_libertine]

The heat of the desert sun beat down on him as he held his guts in his stomach, or at least tried too. As it turns out intestines were hard to hold in. Slick warm and oddly disgusting as one looked at them, Xan knew that in moments he would collapse and die. His eyes, the pale blue of the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of Kefalonia, stared at the man standing before him, and the half dozen already dead around them.

"You have not earned this death, heretic," he said. For a moment Xan could not process the logic behind what the man was saying. Clearly killing six of his followers, sycophants, or whatever they were, merited the death.

"No, for your heresy, you will live until you repent, until you fall before God almighty and beg his mercy and forgiveness."

Xan spat at the other man, responding, "Your mother will suck my cock when I do."

The other man, Simon?, Xan wondered a moment, leaned over and hissed, "Live until the day of judgment comes, Alexandros."

~*~*~*~*~

He woke with a start, the heat of the desert a vague memory. His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings. "France," he murmured in ancient Greek. "I am in France."

Pain wracked his body from toes to head and finger tip to finger tip. It was as excruciating of a pain as he had ever felt. Even his eyes hurt. He looked up at the ceiling of the tent he was in and cursed the one that put him through this over and over.

His eyes, whiter than blue at the moment searched his surroundings this time looking for someone, anyone, who was standing and could bring him water. When he finally saw a tall angular man walk his way, Xan called out, "Water."

The man's startled face was nearly priceless, and Xan wondered how bad he was when brought in.

"Young man, you had a terrible brush with death a few days back. You are lucky to be alive."

Xan nodded, "How long?"

"You have been out for five days now. You are weak and time will apparently allow you to heal. We are sending you back to Paris in a few days, once we know you are strong enough to survive the trip."

Xan replied, "Okay." He knew that in paris he could disappear again fade into the night and get lost in history.

The doctor checked him over then said, "The nurse will bring you water shortly. Food will need to wait for a few more days."

 

[slut_in_white]

Ana kept careful watch over the man for the five days he was unconscious. It wasn't her job, strictly speaking, but he gave her hope - after witnessing so much death, it was wonderful to encounter life against such odds.

That was why she felt such pleasure, all the way down to her toes, when the doctor informed her that he was awake and asking for water. She collected a glass and headed for his bed.

He was lying still, his eyes closed and his face screwed up with pain. He didn't seem to realize she was there. "How are you feeling?" she asked softly, sitting down on the bed next to him. She held up the glass. "Here, don't strain yourself." She reached for him, lifting his head slightly, and held the glass to his lips while he drank greedily. She couldn't help but smile. It was a sign of recovery that he felt that kind of thirst.

Once he was finished, she put the glass down and reached absently for his hand. It was simply a comforting touch, though it was far more affectionate that she was usually with her patients. She hadn't realized she was doing it until her hand slipped into his, and once it was there, she didn't want to pull away. "I could get you something for the pain, if you'd like."

 

[a_libertine]

Pain. Pain is enduring, pervasive, and a life long companion. Pain set the example upon which all other feelings were measured. Love was sweet, and lasted a few decades if he was lucky. Sometimes it was as long as 200 years between episodes of love. Rage was short and intense never lasting more than a day, usually resulting in someone's death, more often than not the one upon whom Xan had fixated the rage on.

Confusion was a new emotion and Xan didn't like it. But the 20th century was advancing so quickly. Even in the last 30 years war had changed so much, and more was to come he was sure. Airplanes? He had not considered the possibility before he saw the craft that dropped the bomb on his platoon.

A wave of pain, his old friend, raced through his body as the nurse sat down next to him. "No," he moaned through clenched teeth, "No morphine, the pain helps."

She took his hand and held it. He sighed as he eased back onto the bedding, for a moment the pain eased by her touch. Then the nurse brought him wide awake as she massaged the back of his hand with her free hand, humming tunelessly. Yet between the two actions, he sighed out, "I know your touch," and passed out again.

 

[slut_in_white]

I know your touch.

Ana had left her miracle patient for a few hours after he had passed out, needing to see to her other duties around the hospital... but those words had remained with her, in the back of her mind, bothering her.

He knew her touch? But that was impossible. She'd never seen that man before in her life. His accent said he was from... well, truthfully, she wasn't sure. She couldn't place it, but she was certain he wasn't English, and she'd never left England before D-Day. There was no way they'd encountered each other before.

In what was becoming a rather frustrating cycle, she found that what bothered her most about it was that it managed to bother her at all. Soldiers said odd things all the time while under the influence of pain. They were often confused when they woke in the hospital. Ana had been called a range of names by her patients, all certain that she was his wife or lover, and she'd also often been called some variation or another of "mother," so why did the fevered words of this man bother her so much?

Because she could swear she'd heard them before. As in a half-remembered dream, she recalled having heard that voice, saying those words. The memory of the words themselves were clear as day, but when or where she'd heard them (if she had indeed heard them at all, and this wasn't a trick of the mind) were impossible to recall.

-------------------

A few of the other nurses began teasing Ana about the attention she paid to her "miracle soldier." It was just goodnatured ribbing, based largely on the fact that, underneath his battered exterior, it was quite clear that he had once been quite exceedingly attractive. Ana was adamant that that wasn't why she spent every spare moment at his side - and that was the honest truth. She thought that perhaps it was the fact that she'd been there when he'd taken his first miraculous breath that made her feel like she had some connection to him. Or maybe it was those words, "I know your touch," still haunting her. Maybe she needed to ask him what it was he'd meant.

Regardless, she took very careful care of him, anxiously awaiting his return to consciousness. She hoped he would wake before he was scheduled to be sent to Paris. She needed to speak with him. About what, she didn't know. Perhaps she simply needed to see him awake.

 

[a_libertine]

He had been born of mixed parentage. A barbarian woman from the land that would be Bavaria centuries in the future. Xan got the best of both of his parents. His mother's blond hair and blue eyes, with the oddest, nearly impossibly. His father's skin tone and cheek bones. Xan once was physically imposing, nearly six feet tall, he weighed twelve stone, and his musculature was such that he possessed nearly the perfect balance of power and speed.

Modern weaponry, rifles and pistols, balanced the scales a lot between Xan and the modern soldier. Rifles and pistols eventually ran out of bullets, all one had to do is out wait their impatience to kill you and they would fall into your hands. Fortunately centuries force fed you patience.

He woke with a start, his eyes snapping open, more white than blue. He levered himself up into a sitting position, almost blacking out from the intense pain as it exploded through his midsection. He paused at nearly halfway up waiting for the tsunami of pain to pass. Once it came down to a manageable level Xan forced his way the rest of the way up. He scooted up the bed until he could lean against the head rest of the rickety bed.

Xan was still panting in pain, focusing his eyes on the soldier across the way, fighting the blackness that threatened to rip him from the land of the awake. He heard the steps of someone in padded shoes coming down the ward, followed by a sharp shriek as she saw him. "Water, I need water. Tell her I need water," he rasped wanly.

The nurse looked at him quizzically, "Her? You mean Ana?"

Xan blinked at her, and paused a moment. He considered it a moment and he liked it. It was much better than 'Trixie.' Ultimately he nodded, trusting that if he was right she would know, or feel it, and come. "Yes, Ana, have her bring me water."

The nurse clucked and stated, "She is off, I can get the water for you."

Xan's eyes flashed dangerously. "Woman, I asked not for your help. Go find Ana, she will come if you ask."

Anger flared across her features as she stated, "You will not order me."

Xan's voice was low and dangerous, "And you will not assist me, while it is in my power to stop you. I will get my own water."

His face screwed up in pain as he rotated his legs to where they draped off the edge of the bed. He heard, "Wait, stop. That might kill you!"

Xan was panting with pain as he hissed, "The only way I will stop is if you go get her."

The nurse looked defeated as she nodded slowly, "Okay, I will go get her."

 

[slut_in_white]

Of course, fate would have it that, despite how much time Ana spent by or near his bed, he would wake during the comparatively few hours that she was not. As it happened, she was taking a nap when the other nurse came rushing in. Ana hadn't gotten a full night's sleep in some time, managing only to get a few hours' sleep here and there when things slowed down.

"Ana!" The nurse practically fell onto Ana's cot in her hurry to shake her awake. "Ana, you have to go to him!"

Ana sat up, rubbing her eyes blearily. "What? What are you talking about?"

"The soldier! Your soldier!" The nurse was frantic. "He insists that you go to him. He's trying to get out of bed!"

That jerked Ana awake. "What?! But he'll tear his stitches!" She pushed herself to her feet and stepped into her shoes. She was only dressed in a night-gown, but she didn't have time to dress properly, so she simply pulled a shawl over she shoulders and hurried from the room, the second nurse on her heels.

"I know! I told him so, but he said he would only stop for you!"

Ana shot the nurse a dirty look over her shoulder, thinking that this was an ill time for teasing about her fixation with him. But from the look on her face, she wasn't teasing. She was quite serious.

She drew more than a few surprised stares from people around the hospital as she rushed across the floor. Her long, dark hair was falling in a mess around her shoulders, instead of pinned back as usual, and her night-gown, while it covered enough to be somewhat proper, certainly did very little to hide her natural curves.

She all but ran down the stairs and stopped abruptly when she saw him, still sitting up in bed. "Just what do you think you're doing?!" she scolded, her tone as much one of fear for his safety than of any real anger. She crossed the room and placed both hands on his shoulders, pushing him forcibly back down onto the pillows. If he'd been well, she was certain that he would have been perfectly capable of resisting. As it was, either his injuries were such that she could overpower him, or he allowed her push. She wasn't certain which.

Her hands still pressed against his shoulders, she found herself leaning quite far over him, their faces only a few inches apart. She might have thought it inappropriate, or perhaps romantic, if her temper still hadn't control of her. "Don't you dare do that again. Not until one of the doctors or nurses gives you permission to get up."

 

[a_libertine]

Of course he didn't recognize her. She was shorter and prettier than 'Trixie' had been. As she rounded the foot of the bed, in a pretty white silk night gown, he noticed that it clung to a pair of breasts that were ripe enough and large enough for eating. He smiled weakly as she pushed him down, the pain coursing through his body.

After he settled into place he reached up and caressed her face. His fingers hooking the hinge of her jaw, thumb caressing her fine cheekbone as his pinkie finger caressed her neck in the opposite movement of his thumb. It was the same caress he had given her over nineteen hundred years. He watched her shiver at the caress and he groaned as he leaned forward, kissing her cheek.

"You alone I will let care for me," he whispered to her. "As for getting up, I will as soon as my body will allow me."

He leaned back against the headboard wearily. His eyes were on hers as he waited the pain out. "I still need the water, and a lot of it, if I am going to answer the questions you have."

 

[slut_in_white]

The moment he touched her face, it was as though nothing and no one else in the world existed. Everything stopped. She shivered, shutting her eyes to savor the feeling - it was at once the most comforting and arousing caress she could have ever experienced. She didn't understand what was happening, why her instincts reacted so strongly. If anything about the way his fingers moved or fit over her jaw had changed, it would have been nothing to her. This was a touch she knew, somehow, like the familiar touch of the lover she's never had. His kiss was the seal - the familiar graze of lips over her cheek that he acted as though he's kissed a hundred or even a thousand times.

She didn't understand. But if she thought that her strange sense of attachment to him would be sated by seeing him awake, she was sorely mistaken. Only her. Only she would care for him. Despite the fact that her mind knew well how utterly strange a demand it was, some part of her, some instinct, felt that it was right. That nothing else would have been acceptable.

I still need water, and a lot of it, if I'm going to answer the questions you have.

Ana couldn't help the smirk that appeared on her face at that. "Certainly. Because I have a lot of questions." Something like habit, or maybe long-buried muscle memory, made her lean in and press a kiss to his cheek before she straightened. She hadn't even realized what she was doing until after she'd done it. She looked shocked at herself, blushing brightly. "I'll, um, I'll be right back with your water..."

She turned and nearly fled from the room. She took the minute she needed to full a jug and get a glass to calm herself. Just what in God's name was happening?! She felt like she was going insane. She felt like he was driving her insane. And yet, he was the only one who had any chance of explaining to her what was going on. And so she steeled her nerves with a deep breath and walked back out into his room.

She poured a glass of water and handed it to him, leaving the jug on the small table next to him, and sat slowly on the edge of the bed. "So. Why don't we begin with your name."

 

[a_libertine]

Xan drank the water, quaffing really. Two long pulls from the glass and it was empty and he handed it back to her for a refill. When she turned back to him he answered her question in Greek, "Alexandros ho Sparta," switching to English, "you may call me Xan."

~*~*~*~

..."Xan. And I have loved you for centuries, and have missed you decades."

Xan watched in horror as she stood and ran, her feet carrying her away from him into the streets of Marseilles. Xan ran after her but in his weakened state he could not keep up. The Black Plague had ravaged him, and he was just beginning to recover. People scattered in fear from him as he ran for her. His bare feet slipped in the mud and he fell. As he wiped mud from his eyes not seeing her.

It was three weeks later that he finally found her. Her blonde hair covering her face. He knew, even as he brushed the hair away from her face that she had died, and that he found her.

He kissed her forehead, "Beloved, too much too fast, never again."

~*~*~*~

Xan's eyes returned to Ana, "You have to ask the questions, I will not lie to you, but you have to make the journey. I will be with you every step of the way, but I will not feed you information that you aren't ready for."

He drank from the glass and handed it back to her. He leaned back into the pillow and sighed. His eyes went to Ana and he took her hand in his. "Go on, Ana, I have never lied to you; I shall not start now."

 

[slut_in_white]

I have never lied to you...

It seemed an odd thing to say, given how few words they'd exchanged. It startled her that she was becoming simply accustomed to his habit of speaking to her like they'd known each other forever.

She sat in silence for a long moment, handing him another glass filled with water as she gathered her thoughts. She was intensely aware of his gaze boring into her, and she found it distracting enough that it took her much longer to sort out her thoughts than it should have. "When you woke the first time... You told me that you knew my touch. And the way you refuse to let anyone else care for you." She lifted her gaze to his, her frustration at being unable to understand surfacing all at once. "Do we know each other? Why can't I remember?"

 

[a_libertine]

Xan nodded, he had expected the question sooner or later. The problem was how to answer satisfactorily with out giving so much information that she runs away. She had to find the past on her own.

The problem was it was almost always different on what triggered her memories. Trixie didn't remember until she saw him kill a person with a knife. Magdelina did not remember until she gave birth to their child. One did not remember fully until her death bed.

He smiled at her, a handsome smile that could turn scary depending on circumstance and asked, "When I woke last I asked the nurse to send you. I did not know your name. I only knew your touch and that you were here. You had fretted over me, worried over me, and watched over me, right? "

She nodded in response silently and Xan took her hand. He waited until she looked up at him then, "Why did you?"

 

[slut_in_white]

Ana opened her mouth to answer, only to find that she honestly didn't know why she'd worried over him so much. She snapped her jaw shut, frowning slightly, and considered the question very carefully. She looked down at their still-clasped hands, resting in her lap.

"I don't... I don't know. Perhaps it was because I was the one who saw your take your first breath." She lifted her gaze to his again and realized that he might not yet know what had happened, just how close he had been to death. She tightened her hand in his. "I don't know how it happened. You were dead. Your injuries were severe, and your heart had stopped by the time you reached the hospital. I was..." She shut her eyes, shuddering at the memory of the rows of dead men. "I was collecting the dog-tags off the bodies. Wrapping them. Praying for them. I was in the middle of praying for you when you suddenly started breathing." She laughed softly. "You scared the daylights out of me. But we got you back inside, and stitched up your injuries... And once we'd done all we could, I suppose I should have moved on, started looking after other soldiers, but I couldn't stop thinking about you. I had to know that you were okay. I thought maybe the reason I worried for you so much was because I had seen your first miraculous breath." She smiled at him, a gentle, sad expression. "We see so much death here. It was a welcome change to witness a miracle like that."

 

[a_libertine]

Xan watched her and listened to what she said, and as she finished he smiled at her gently. "Okay, now that you said that, did it sound truthful to you?"

He squeezed her hand gently, fondly, and said, "I am not one of your co-workers, but I can understand why it would take some time."

He caressed her hand as they sat holding hands, barely moving. "There was an island I once lived on, it was off the coast of mainland Europe, the water was a deep blue with a green edge. I never did understand while I lived there why there was a green edge to the water. Someone explained it once, and it lacked a certain..." he paused a moment, "It lacked a certain amount of romance, which is funny now that I think about it."

He smiled at her, "Anyway, the island was small, there wasn't much soil on top of the bedrock, so growing food was tough. W... My partner and I subsisted on mostly fish, and the rare trip to another island to get vegetables."

He turned her hand over, palm up and he traced the outline of the island on her palm. "It wasn't very big, barely large enough for two people and a hut. Fighting with each other was impossible, there was no where to get away. At least not easily. So it made us talk things out. Sometimes poorly, sometimes well."

He looked up at her, smiled, and said, "Anyway, enough of that. Wanna spend the night?"

 

[slut_in_white]

Despite that nagging feeling that they had some kind of history, Ana certainly hadn't expected the rather abrupt invitation to stay the night with him. She giggled and drew her hand away. "I'm afraid I'm not the sort of girl to sleep with men that I've just met," she told him coyly. She stood, tugging self-consciously on her gown. "Besides. You might be here for a bit of a vacation, but this is my job," she teased, grinning. "I should go get ready for my shift. I promise that I'll be back as soon as I can though." And with that, she disappeared back out the stairs.

Ana was practically giddy while she worked the rest of the day. She couldn't stop smiling and there was a bounce in her step. The other nurses noticed, of course. They ribbed her a bit, giggling and teasing, which Ana took good-naturedly.

She was washing her hands after assisting in surgery when, abruptly, she grew very dizzy. With a gasp, she grasped hard on the edge of the sink, swaying. One of the doctors nearby paused. "Ana? Are you...?"

She didn't hear the rest. Her eyes rolled up and she collapsed, cracking her head against the sink as she fell.

---------

Ana - wait, not Ana... Domitia - woke to the feeling of gentle fingers trailing up and down her spine. She was lying on her stomach, purring at the lovely feeling. "Mmm, Xan," she mumbled, her eyes fluttering open. "You're not supposed to be here..."

She opened her eyes to the sight of the sun shining into her bedroom through the balcony doors, illuminating the stunning view of the city of Rome beyond. She looked up at Xan, who was seated with his back against the headboard, smiling down at her. She pushed herself up until she was kneeling, and smirked at the way Xan's gaze slid obviously down from her eyes to her breasts as they became visible. "My father will kill you if he finds you here," she informed him, feeling faintly annoyed. Xan knew that. She'd told him a hundred times how dangerous it was for him to stay until morning.

Her father. A Roman Senator. She'd long ago accepted the idea that she would be sold off as a wife to whomever offered her father the most power of wealth in exchange. She had been willing - it was the price she paid for her life of luxury. Until she met Xan.

She reached for him, cupping his face in one hand and leaned in to kiss him softly.

---------

Ana's eyes fluttered open, and she started, yelping in surprise at how close the doctor's face was to her. "Ah! You're awake! You took quite a nasty hit to your head."

"What happened?" Ana asked slowly, her mind still spinning. That dream... It was clear, more like a memory. But how could that be? The woman in that dream hadn't even been herself...

"We're not sure. You just... collapsed. You're to stay in bed for a few days. You haven't been getting enough sleep for weeks, Ana," the doctor scolding softly, shaking his head. "You need to get rest, or you might hurt yourself again."

Ana nodded. "A-alright. How long was I out?"

"Almost 24 hours," the doctor answered absently. He stepped out of the make-shift private room they'd put up for her - after all, she was the only female patient in a shared hospital space full of men. There were sheets hung up around the bed from the ceiling to give her some semblance of privacy. When he pulled back one of the sheets, however, she spotted Xan on the bed next door.

"Now, get some rest. Promise?"

Ana smiled softly. "I promise."

The doctor nodded approvingly and left. She waited for him to walk up the stairs and pushed herself to her feet. She wobbled a bit, still dizzy, and looked down at herself - someone had put her back into her nightgown, and she had a bandage on her head where she had cracked the sink during her fall. She padded softly over to the dividing curtain and pulled it back, smiling sheepishly at Xan. "Looks like we'll have some time to talk after all..."

 

[a_libertine]

He had been beside himself when he had heard Ana had fallen in the operating room. The first nurse had nearly lost her head as he vaulted from the bed and yanked her skyward by the throat roaring, "WHERE IS SHE!"

She had pointed toward the operating room and he charged toward it, dropping the nurse. He barged into the operating room amidst shouts at him, about her. He shrugged off a nurse and the doctor as he knelt down next to Ana. His hands deftly checked her head at the sight of the wound and grunted. She would be okay.

The doctor grabbed at Xan again trying to pull him away from Ana. Xan turned and grabbed the doctor by the shirt, "No harm comes to her, understand?" The doctor nodded. "She is special to me, I will see her through this."

The doctor looked at him quizzically, "You are in worse shape than she is, you can't watch over her."

"I can," Xan affirmed, "Put her in the bed next to mine, and I can watch over her. Otherwise I will be staying in the room you put her in."

By the time he was done convincing the doctor two MP's walked into the operating room and moved toward Xan. The doctor waved them off as he stared at Xan, "What is it between you two?"

Xan looked down at Ana and caressed her face as he whispered silently, "I have loved her since the dawn of time."

The next twenty four hours were touch and go. Xan paced around her bed as often as he was physically able to do so. He mean mugged everyone that went into her personal space and he didn't move away until they did.

When she woke, Xan felt relief and some apprehension. He wondered if she started remembering and if so, what?

She appeared smiling sheepishly at Xan. "Looks like we'll have some time to talk after all..."

He stepped up and snatched her into his arms, crushing her body hard against his. He kissed her cheek, ear, and neck, whispering, "Yes we do. We have all the time you need."

He helped her back onto her bed and sat next to her, "What did you remember?"

 

[slut_in_white]

Ana squeaked when Xan gathered her up into his arms, crushing her against him, forcing the air out of her lungs. She froze for a moment when his lips moved past that initial kiss on the cheek, to the more intimate ear and neck. When he finally released her, she was blushing. Part of her thought she should be offended at the liberties he was taking with her - kissing her like that when she barely knew him.

But... The idea that she knew him better than she first thought kept coming back. And that dream...

She let him lead her over to her bed. She was so focused on her internal thoughts - about him, about her dream, about why she should believe she was anythjng but crazy - that it took her a moment to register what he'd asked her.

What did you remember?

Ana's head jerked up to look at him with wide, shocked eyes. "How... How did you know that?" She gaped at him for a moment, and at the look of pleasure on his face at her apparent confirmation of his suspicions. "I... I had a dream," she admitted, reaching again for his hands. There was something so comforting about his touch. She felt stronger for it, and took a deep, calming breath while she sorted her thoughts. "You were in it. We were..." She blushed scarlet as she realized what she was about to say. "We were... in bed. Together. It was morning and... umm.. we hadn't any clothes." She felt very foolish, suddenly, like a child next to him. He seemed so very comfortable with his apparent affection and desire for her, like it was utterly natural. And meanwhile, Ana couldn't even bring herself to say the word 'sex'. "But I... I wasn't myself. I was..." she trailed off, scrambling to remember the name. "Dom... Domitia? A Senator's daughter in Rome."

There was a pause, and Ana looked up into Xan's eyes, fearing what he might say next. "But that's not... It was just a dream. Right? You can't have been in Rome, that long ago. That woman... She can't have been me... Can she?"

 

[a_libertine]

Xan wrapped an arm around Ana as he nodded. "Yes she was you, or, you are her."

He smiled at her, "There are a select group of people who have the ability to come back generation after generation and you are one of them."

He gently squeezed her shoulder and continued, "We have become friends with some enemies with others. So much like a normal life."

He glanced at her, "As for me, that is significantly more difficult to explain. The short of it is that I can't die, don't age, and am stuck until the end of time."

 

[slut_in_white]

Ana simply blinked at Xan for a long moment after he had explained, as if trying i comprehend all the implications at once. "That's not... That's not possible? Is this a joke of some kind?" But his face told her it was not. Her eyes grew wide with wonder and she reached hesitantly up to touch his face. "You are... immortal?" she asked softly. Her mind was racing, trying to understand what that meant, and how it related to her. "And I... You say I am reborn each generation?"

She held his face gently in her hands, understanding dawning on her expression. It was as if Xan could watch each thought and realization pass through her mind, her face was so open. "How long?" she asked, her voice hushed. There was pain in her tone and her expression now, and she stroked his cheek. "How many times have you lost me? How many times have you had to watch me die?" She hated to think of it. She had seen the deaths of lovers, husbands and wives. She had seen the pain it caused in the survivor. She hated to think of how many times Xan had endured that over her many lives.

 

[a_libertine]

He leaned over and kissed her quickly. Unfamiliar lips giving him an altogether familiar feeling. "It was hell on your second death. The first one we died together more or less. At least within the hour of each other. When I woke I was too amazed that I was alive to mourn you for a few days."

He laid down on her bed and stretched his feet out; pulling her down with him. Ana's head rested on his chest and he held her left hand with his right and stroked her back lovingly with his left hand.

"The second time was not so long after the first. You were known as Mahraz. I chalked up your knowledge of me to stories that had been spread through the community, and we fell in love again. It was toward the end of your life that we pieced together what happened to you. When you died I did not know, like I do now, that you would come back."

"So to answer your question, this is the 11th time I have found you."

 

[slut_in_white]

Ana still couldn't help but be amazed by how comfortable she was being so close to and intimate with Xan so soon after meeting him. She couldn't help but believe what he was telling her, but knowing what happened and remembering it were two entirely different things. But, it seemed the heart remembered what the head could not, because even as they lay down on her bed together, she wanted nothing but to be closer to him.

That didn't stop her from licking her lips subconsciously after his kiss - she'd been kissed before, once, by a young man who had tried to court her before she left for France, but it had been nothing compared to the way that simple touch of Xan's lips seemed to set fire to her blood. Once he finished his explanation, she sat up a little, leaning over him and, with a shy smile, pressed a kiss to his lips.

"I know there is nothing I can do to change it, but I am sorry that you have to endure that," she whispered once her lips left his. She could not have known it yet, but they had some variation on this conversation every time he found her again.

She kissed him again, quickly, and then turned her mind more to the present. "They're going to send you to Paris," she told him, frowning slightly. "I want to go with you, but I don't know how we could manage it."

 

[a_libertine]

Xan considered the situation and finally concluded, "Only two options I see. One is I try to make them send you with me. The other is to desert from the Army. That is amazingly easy all things considered."

He pulled her face down to his and he kissed her again. This time it was not a peck. It was not an emotionless kiss. He poured everything into the kiss., heart mind and soul. He felt his quickening between his legs. He moaned into her throat as his tongue speared her mouth.

" I guess there is a third option," he said. " I can meet you under the Eiffle tower at 3:00 PM on the day you come to Paris." His hand caressed her side, "Not ideal especially in war time. "

 

[slut_in_white]

Ana was left breathless and a little dizzy by the kiss Xan gave her, so it took her a moment to comprehend his third suggestion. Once she did, though, she slipped her arms around his torso and held herself against him tightly. "No. No, I won't see you shipped off without me." She shook her head, though she didn't let go of him. "I feel like I'm going insane," she admitted. "To feel so strongly when I can't even remember... Is it always like this? Am I always drawn to you like this?"

 

[a_libertine]

Xan laughed warmly, "No, not always. There was one time, when you were a Spanish knight's wife that it took twenty years for you to come around."

He squinted his eyes and quipped, "That is to say nothing of the time your name was Rudolf. That was a very interesting time."

He saw her look and laughed, "No we didn't. "

 

[slut_in_white]

Ana gaped at his stories of her past lives. She wanted to remember. She wanted to recall all of these first meetings, all of their nights together...

"20 years..." she repeated, quiet and awed. "You waited for me for 20 years?" It seemed baffling. Any other man would simply have moved on, which brought her to another thought. "Have there been others? Other women, I mean." She smiled gently, pressing her lips to the soft skin by his throat. "I won't be angry. After all, marriage vows do only say "til death do us part.'"