Memories: Old and New - Part 2
Rissy -- ~Getting the response she had hoped for she waited for him to go off on a rant once again because it made it easier for her to get the upper hand but instead he’d excused himself from the room entirely. Saying nothing as Randolf spoke she smiled politely and waited for him to finish his duties while she in turn once again played the entire dinner and its conversation over and over in her head. Every one seemed to want her to see something that she was obviously missing which she found almost as frustrating as the flashes she’d been having since she set foot in this place. Standing up fingers fussed over the wrinkles of the dress acquired while sitting, her intention to head off to bed, when Graf came in looking a little less than happy renewing her hope of gaining the upper hand. Instead his words left her feeling a mixture of same, confusion and uncertainty.
After he left she retired to the room she’d been assured was not Brittany’s and was pleasantly surprised to find a bath had already been drawn for her, the steam still rising off its surface as if someone had known she’d be in need of a good soaking to chase away the stress of tonight’s events. Shedding the dress and carefully laying it over one of the many chairs she finished undressing and then sampled the water with a toe before slipping beneath its welcoming warmth. Submerged to her chin she watched the various candles flicker as her tension began to ease and her mind to drift with every passing moment.

She thought back on her childhood, if what she was discovering and being told was true then how could she be her parent’s child? Things simply didn’t make sense, how was she to believe she’d been a witch this entire time and yet be raised that such things were of the devil and a sin? Wouldn’t her parents want her to embrace her gifts if they were indeed true? And if Graf was telling the truth why hadn’t he come seeking her out when her Father was looking for the highest bidder for her hand? What purpose could be served by letting her flee the only home she’d ever known and wander aimlessly before finally stumbling into the tavern? And even if there was some purpose she couldn’t fathom why had Graf not come to her then? The water having finally chilled she rose from the tub and found a plush robe waiting for her to slip into, it was as if the house itself could predict her every whim she thought as she tied it snug about her waist and moved out into the main room then over to the window. Looking out at the light snow fall she saw what looked to be Graf sitting out there all alone and it turned her mind back to her thoughts from earlier. Why hadn’t he said some thing when she’d first arrived at the tavern? Why had he gone through the charade of taking her under his wing out of a sense of duty rather than because of whom he knew she really was? And Brittany, how did she figure into all this? If he was truly torn between the two of them why didn’t he use to logic she’d presented of moral verses eternity? All these questions played over and over in her exhausted mind as she continued to watch him sitting down there in the garden until she thought she would drop.

Turning away from the window she looked over at the huge bed that was not only calling her name but also looking all to enticing at the moment but she hesitated. No of fear that it might be Brittany’s, they’d convinced her well enough this wasn’t her room, but out of fear that to touch it would bring more confusing flashes which in turn would not only ruin any chances of sleep but the effects of the soothing bath just taken. Catching sight of a rather plush high back chair near the hearth she decided to rest there hoping it wouldn’t prove to be like the bed with flashes. A quilt taken from the bench at the foot of the bed she curled up in it, tense at first but soon between exhaustion, the bath and the heat of the flames she was drifting off with ease.~




Graf -- The memories subsided and he looked up. Snow was there instead of the lush gardens. He knew what he needed to do. The gods had been cruel to him in this lifetime. Not only had they taken Brittany away from him, they had also had his other love come back in almost the same form that she had left in. He wondered why this had been done. Was this another test for him? Only they could answer this question. He rose and went back inside, dusting the snow off of his clothes.

There was Svelta waiting for him. “Sire, do not be so hard on yourself. I know this is a difficult for you as it is for her.” “What do you know about such things Svelta?” He replied crossly. “To lose a love like the one you both had is difficult. Not only have you lost Miss Mayhew, but you feel that you have driven away the Mistress. I only shared your bed so many years ago, knowing that you would leave and never love me the way you do them. I’ve never spoken of this to Randolf, and you have had the decency never to ask me to lie with you again. I cried for years, wanting you to love me as you do them. Go to her Johann. If you ever loved me, then please go to her and help her.” Tears filled both of their eyes. “I do love you Svelta.” He turned and left her standing there. As he ascended the stairs, he wondered how many lives he had torn apart. He knew she was right. He had to open up to Rissy.

When she had first come to the tavern, he had known who she was. He thought she would have been safe in the home where she had grown up. The woman was a kind lady. The man had seemed pleasant and loving. How did he know that he would try to sell her to the highest bidder? Had Graf known he would never have hidden her there. The Mayfairs were being persecuted at that time and Rissy’s mother had been drained by the birth of the child. She could not protect her. Graf had watched the family and with their religious beliefs, they were the perfect choice. No one would guess that a Mayfair had lived among them, at least not one of the blessed ones. They couple were distant relatives of the witches. Their sense of family allowed them to accept the girl child. They thought that if she were never exposed to her “cursed family” that she would never be like them, and that she would be spared from hell.

Her new father had noticed that there was always something about the old family that would never be taken out of her. Her mother just turned a blind eye to it. When Graf found out about Rissy’s father selling her, he had gone to confront the man. An argument broke out. Graf had funded the family since the day they had taken the child in. They were to protect her and love her. He gave the man five times more than he expected, but once the man and his wife had turned away, Graf flashed his eyes at their house turning it to flames.

Zurral had been after Rissy at that time. Stalking her every move. Graf had purchased the girl before he could and Zurral had vowed ever since to make Graf pay for that. Graf warned Zurral to stay away from her, or he would face Graf’s wrath. The fool had never listened, but Graf had been patient for Rissy’s sake. He decided that she needed to learn her true heritage. Zurral had so twisted things, trying to poison her against Graf, and had brought up her being part of the Mayfair clan, and Graf’s involvement with the “wicked ones”.

Graf finally reached the top of the stairs and noticed that Rissy’s door was cracked. He looked in and not seeing her in the bed, he thought that she be exploring the house more. He went to close the curtains and that’s when he noticed her curled up in the chair. She looked so peaceful, but he caught her thoughts. Memories were flooding her, but she did not understand them. He could sense her fear and knew he had to speak with her. Pulling up a chair, he spoke. “Rissy, we need to talk. Wake up darling. This is important.” He was nervous about this, but he also knew that Svelta was right. Rissy needed to know and deserved to know. Again he spoke. “Rissy my love, I hate to wake you, but we really need to talk. There are things you must know.” He wasn’t sure that he could explain things to her without scaring her or overwhelming her. He had so wanted her to remember on her own. Still he knew he had to help her understand.