but with nobody in your bed / the night's hard to get through Who: David Malvot & Emmeline Rothschild. What: Past histories between the Daeva Lancea et Sanctum siblings. Where: Church of St. Bartholomew. When: Way back when. Warnings: None. Progress: Gdoc, complete.
Emmeline stopped in the doorway to David's room, hesitating. She watched him as he prepared to rest for the day, feeling the weight of the rising sun almost like a physical burden on her shoulders. She leaned against the frame, exhausted. Nathalie had been gone for a week, sent to Philadelphia on a diplomatic mission to help with church issues there. Em had not slept well since the departure of their shared Sire, and was hoping to find help with her brother.
But now the idea seemed ridiculous. In the three years since her embrace, she and Nathalie's other childe had been friendly at best, competing with each other to bring more recruits and praise to the church. He had decades on her and seemed to tolerate her attempts to be a part of the church, but she still clung too tightly to her Sire to feel comfortable around others. Em drew in a breath and pulled up the long white skirt of her nightgown, her bare feet turning to lead her away from the room.
David's voice rang out from behind her, a low and musical purr. "Emmeline," he called. "Come in." He turned to face the white retreating line of her body. He swept the black cassock off his own, then moved to hang it in a nearby armoire. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
She paused, and then turned back, hovering in the doorway once more.
"Nothing, I... I was just getting ready to rest." Her fingers laced in front of her, the picture of anxiety. Deep lines were etched into her face, and her eyes glanced about the room, taking it all in. Finally, her gaze came back to rest on David. "I...actually had a question for you, if...if it's not too much."
"Of course not," he said. After a brief hesitation David moved to the door, reaching out to take one of her tightly clasped hands. He pulled her gently inside the cavernous space. "What is it?"
She followed his lead without pause, seeming to lose some tension as he pulled her into the space. "It's more of a favor, actually." Her free hand grasped at her nightgown. "I just, I've been having trouble sleeping, and sometimes..."
Emmeline took a breath and pulled her hand back from David's, leaving her in the middle of the room. "I'm not used to sleeping alone, and Nathalie lets me rest with her some days. Since she's gone, I thought I might ask if I... If I might rest with you." Teeth worried her bottom lip, but she forced her hands flat at her sides. Before he could respond, she kept talking. "I'm sorry, I know this is a stupid thing to ask. I shouldn't have bothered you with this."
His laugh was quiet, and quickly clipped. It almost -- almost, but not quite -- covered the jealousy that flared up within him. He started to reach out to her but seemed to think better of it. "You're not a bother," he said. "And of course you may. I welcome your company."
David turned away from her, beckoning her to follow as he moved back toward the sleigh bed. It was a black expanse of a thing, its crisp sheets a red so deep they seemed one shadow atop another. He stripped out of his black silk undershirt, draping it over the black curve of the headboard. "Do you often stay with Nathalie? I'd heard rumors, but she's never spoken of it with me directly."
Emmeline's gaze drifted over his form, then politely moved to the bed. If she could have blushed, she would have.
"Not...that often," she said, not entirely lying, following him to the bed. The sight of it made the tension in her body melt away entirely, wanting nothing more than to curl up in it and sleep. "I've never been used to sleeping alone." Despondency moved like a cloud over her face for a moment as various faces of past bedmates moved through her mind -- William, her mother, Richard -- but then she shook it off as she glanced back to David. "I promise I don't take up much room. Just having someone else there helps with the dreams."
"Don't be so timid," he said. "You're better than that." She tried not to flinch at his words, unsure if she disliked his tone or the fact that he disapproved. He slipped beneath the sheets, reaching out to pull down the corner across from him. His eyes stayed on hers, watching the storm of emotions pass over her, wondering what each of them meant. "Ask for what you want, then take it." He patted the mattress next to him. "Tell me about these dreams."
Worrying her bottom lip, Emmeline slid into bed next to him, crossing her legs as she remained seated. Her hands strayed to her lap, plucking at the white material of her nightgown.
"They're nothing. Just things I remember, or I guess shouldn't remember, and it confuses me when I wake up. Nathalie...someone else with me just helps me remember where I am. What happened." She pulled the edge of the sheets over her legs, leaning back against the pillows. Exhaustion fell heavily against her, but she forced herself awake as she looked to her newfound sibling. "Do you dream? When you rest?"
David thought for a moment. His fingertips traced nonsensical patterns on her thigh, shifting the thin cloth on cool skin beneath. "If I do," he said at last, "I don't remember them. I sleep very deeply and very well. But I'm told others dream. I don't think it's particularly unusual, or something to worry about." He hummed quietly, considering. Only a hint of jealousy colored his next words. "Perhaps it's related to your gift."
She missed the tone of his words as her body relaxed with his touch. "Maybe. I've never had dreams like this before...before any of this. I slept better when I was alive. Sleep was the one thing I had that was mine, where I wasn't interrupted." Her hand reached out and took his, fingers lacing. "But everything's changed now. I keep thinking I made the right choice, but it never seems like it." She stared at his hand, once again lost in thoughts that drew a frown on her mouth.
"Give it time." He squeezed her hand, the pad of his thumb brushing over her skin. "You'll adjust. And the dreams might get better. I've heard Mekhet can sometimes help with that. Teach you to direct your dreams, or alter them." He shrugged, his bare shoulder whispering against the sheets. "Personally I wouldn't trust them to. But if it gets bad enough, you know you have options."
Her frown deepened at his sour recommendation, and she slipped down to lie on her shoulder parallel to him. She sighed, her eyes drifting closer and closer to sleep. "I don't think I'd like someone else in my head. Too many things going on there already." Her lids finally shut, her body falling into the stupor that came with the rising of the sun. Her grasp, however, remained firm on his hand.
David's head came to rest against her shoulder. He breathed deeply of the scent of her, and the subtle notes of their home that lay beneath. This was his last conscious thought: that they belonged to one another, and what a shame it was that their maker had to leave for them to see it. Sleep came for him soon after, pulling him down into its dark and dreamless embrace.
* * *
"Nathalie!" Emmeline was up first and waiting for their Sire's return three days later. She'd spent every night since her initial request to David in her brother's bed. The first night had found her pressed close to her Kindred sibling, arms wrapped around his middle as she had shuddered against some invisible intruders in her dreams.
Now, though, one would not have known that she had gone to anyone for help. She had found things to do near the front doors of the church, waiting for Nathalie's return like a dog waiting for its master. As soon as the Kindred walked through the door, Em was there to throw her arms around her shoulders.
"Hello, Em," Nathalie replied, hugging her childe in return. She pulled back, putting her hands to the younger woman's shoulders. "You shouldn't be lurking around here waiting for me. I'm sure there's plenty of other things that should be keeping you busy."
"There are," David said. He stepped out from the shadows of the nave, his hand running along the back of one gleamingly polished pew. He was dressed and ready for work, not a thread on cassock or collar out of place. His gaze lingered a moment on Emmeline before it moved to their Sire. His smile was small and guarded. "Luckily it's nothing I can't handle. Welcome home, Nathalie."
"Hello, David," the elder Kindred replied, offering him a more open and happy expression. She turned her gaze back to Emmeline, removing her hands from the woman's shoulders. "How did you sleep?"
"I managed," was all Emmeline replied, before turning to other topics. "How was your trip? I've never been to Philadelphia..." The neonate's attention was fully on her Sire, ignoring David's presence completely. Nathalie, likewise, doted on Emmeline, her eyes never straying far from her face.
"She managed," David interrupted, "because she stayed with me. And she still had nightmares." He moved closer to them, edging ever nearer to the tight bubble of space they had made for themselves. "I have some ideas about how we might help her with this, if you're interested."
Nathalie turned toward her other childe. "Oh? That was very kind of you, David. Emmeline, you should have said something." Emmeline remained quiet, looking at David as though he had revealed a secret she'd wanted to keep to herself. He did not meet his sister's eyes. "What thoughts did you have?"
"You and I could speak with the Mekhet," he said. "I understand they have ways of taking power in dreams, even directing them where the dreamer wants. Perhaps we might coax them into teaching Em a related discipline."
"That's not a bad idea. I can make some arrangements--"
"I don't want anyone poking around in my head," Em interjected. She was wringing her hands, but as attention fell back to her, she forced her hands to her sides. "I'll be fine. I can work it out on my own."
"It's nothing to be afraid of, Emmeline. We only want to help you." Emmeline looked from Nathalie to David and back again, shrinking with each glance.
"All right. I'll at least try it," she conceded, as she met Nathalie's gaze. Her Sire put a comforting arm around her shoulders. Inwardly David bristled, but he allowed himself no outward sign of discomfort.
"It will be all right. Now, David, I have some papers that I want you to deliver to Camille. We should go over them first." Emmeline remained under her Sire's touch, but her jaw was clenched as she watched David interact with Nathalie.
"Of course." His shoulders straightened; his chin raised slightly. A new glint lit his eye. He felt no small amount of pride to be the one she could count on, the one to whom she turned for answers when others brought her problems. He cast a meaningful glance down to Emmeline. "And I'll be glad to reach out to the Mekhet as well. Whenever you're ready, of course."
Emmeline rolled her eyes, taking her attention back to Nathalie. There were more other concerns to worry about than her brother gaining the upper hand, this once.
* * *
Even with the Mekhet's help, Emmeline's dreams did not stay away for long. She was able to keep them at bay for lengthier periods of time as she grew older, but she still sought out the simple comfort of someone else beside her while she was at her most vulnerable state. Nathalie continued to be that person, but there were times when she was not available. Fifty years into the blood and she could still be made to feel as though she were a small child afraid of the dark when it came time to rest.
She found herself walking past David's room one night, trying to keep herself awake through long walks, which only ever helped in making her more tired. She stopped at his doorway, finding him reading in bed. Walking a little ways into the room, she crossed her arms over her middle, hoping her face didn't look as exhausted as she felt.
"What're you reading?"
"One of our parishioners is a divinity PhD candidate," he said. "He requested I read his thesis. It's dense, but interesting." He looked up from the page. One corner of his mouth curved upward in the beginnings of a smile, but his voice darkened with unvoiced frustration. "Might help you sleep, if you're having trouble."
"Sleep isn't the problem." She lingered in the middle of the room, but then took two steps forward, stopping just before the bed. "Can I...?"
David sharply arched a brow. "Can you what?" He gestured to the bed beside him. "If you want to stay, you know you're always welcome. That you so infrequently take me up on my offer does not mean it's been rescinded."
She frowned, though that didn't stop her from moving forward and climbing onto the empty side of the bed. "I would think you'd be glad I don't bother you often with this. You seemed very adamant about fixing the problem." Despite her complaints, she laid down next to him, pulling a pillow under her head as her gaze glanced to the text he was reading.
He closed the thick tome, running a hand across its thin but neatly printed cover to smooth out the creases he had made. 'If Christ fulfilled the law, we are not bound': In Defense of Antinomian Soteriology, its bold title proclaimed. David set it down in his lap, all his attention turned toward her.
"Is it a sin to want to help my sister? Or is it just that you don't want to be helped?"
Her gaze moved to his. "Perhaps I'm fine with my own methods. Yours make me think you don't want me here." She moved an arm under the pillow, her body turned toward his. "It hasn't helped, anyway. Maybe I'm not meant to be fixed."
The curve of his brow lifted higher. "Or perhaps you only enjoy the attention that comes with being the wounded animal."
Her frown deepened, but she didn't look away from him. "Why are you being cruel? If you don't want me here, just say so. Nathalie will be back in a few more days, and at least she won't judge me for my shortcomings."
"That you'd be aware of." David held her gaze, plainly unabashed. "I'm not being cruel. I have no intention of hurting you, and no desire to. But you deserve honesty instead of constant coddling and fawning. We have kine for that. Parishioners. Don't come to family for it."
"What kindness, brother; with that, it's a wonder why I don't find myself here more often when I'm seeking comfort," she replied, stretching out on the bed with no sign that she was going to leave. "You have a very brutal bedside manner."
"Others seem to enjoy it, or to at least appreciate it." His fingers trailed lightly down her arm. "I only want what's best for you. This codependency you have upon our Sire is beneath you. I'm sorry you don't see your potential, but don't blame me for trying to draw it out of you."
"My mother always said that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar." Her eyes followed his fingers, her body feeling like a stone pressing down into the bed. "But that's not the Sanctum's way, I know. You fit in better here than I do. Sometimes I think Nathalie was wrong in picking me for this place."
He hummed, a noncommittal little sound. His touch traced up her arm, then back down again, slow and cajoling. "You bring something new to the Sanctum," he said. "A different way of seeing things. The possibility of a gift some of us would sacrifice a great deal to have. You can develop those into blessings for the church. But that will take effort, and discipline you haven't yet exhibited."
Em made an expression of disdain. "I can't control it. I've never been able to. If I could give it to someone else, I would." The words, often thought but rarely spoken, twisted her stomach with guilt. "I can help in other ways. I'm...just not sure how." After all this time, she thought she would have figured things out by now, but she felt as lost as ever. Her Sire was her only guiding light.
David fought to tamp down the flare of envy that suddenly burned bright. He bit his tongue, wasting precious blood to keep himself from saying something still more damaging. When he had composed himself, he forged ahead. "Of course you can help in other ways," he said. "But you were given a gift. You deny God and his blessings when you fail to foster that talent. If it is a cross to bear as well as a gift, so be it. God saw fit to do the same to Longinus, and look what came of his sacrifices."
The guilt pressed in more heavily. "I know I should be grateful, and I am. In some ways. I'm sure Longinus had doubts. Not all of us can be as sure as you, David." She looked back to his face. "I wish I had your confidence. You make it seem so easy."
"Because it is." David harbored his share of doubts, but he dared not voice them, dared not let them bleed into his expression. It was not, after all, himself he did not trust, but God himself, and that was nothing to speak aloud within these walls. "Take your eyes off our Sire for only a little while," he said, "and focus on the true purpose of our work here. You have plenty of faith, Em. You just put it all in one place."
She studied his expression for a moment, weighing his words. Finally she tried a half-hearted smile. "Good I have you around to show me, then, otherwise I'd be a lost cause." She paused for another moment, clearly thinking of how to voice her next request. "If you're done reading, can you coddle me this once and lay down with me?"
He gave a dramatic, long-suffering sigh, and set aside the manuscript; her smile grew more confident at his teasing. "Of course," he said, laughing softly. He slid further down onto the bed, until his head was level with hers against the pillows. He pushed his arm beneath her shoulders and gathered her close. "But this time, try not to forget this when mother dearest comes home, hm?"
She made no reply, wrapping her arms around him in return as she buried her face in his chest. The smell of him combined with candle wax and old paper lulled her into a deep sleep quickly.
* * *
Nathalie's return this time came without the fanfare of her previous trip; Emmeline was busy in her new duties attending a neonate who required fostering, and the elder Kindred came upon David near the transept. Ghouls who attended the church were busy delivering her necessities to her quarters, leaving Nathalie free to seek out her childer.
"Hello, David." The brunette approached her childe with her hands clasped in front of her, eyes exploring the wide windows before them both. They were clear glass, simple and unadorned. "How have you been keeping?"
"Well enough," he said. "Welcome home." It was a familiar litany by now, and one in which David felt less invested each time it was performed. He found no smile for her, though he earnestly tried. "If you'd like to speak with Emmeline, she's with a neonate right now. I can have someone fetch her when they're finished."
Nathalie's brow furrowed, and she took a step toward him. "I'm glad to hear that you're looking after her in my absence, but I asked after you. I'm not here as often as I would like, but there's no one else to deal with these duties. Is something bothering you?"
The only answer came smoothly and quick to his tongue. "Not at all," he said. His face was a mask of calm detachment. He forced into his voice the lightness that he could not put on his expression. "What can I do for you?" He moved to the small altar set back into the transept's wall, busying himself with removing the lowest-burned votives from their red glass jars.
Nathalie opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Emmeline's appearance. The younger woman approached with a neonate at her side, deep in conversation. The moment she noticed her Sire, though, she switched gears.
"When did you get back?!" She moved forward with a little more decorum and gave Nathalie a quick hug. The neonate lingered on the steps behind her, clearly unsure of whether to approach or not.
"Not too long ago. Are you forgetting someone?"
Emmeline glanced behind her and motioned to the neonate. "This is Ernesto," she explained as the man drew closer. He looked warily between Nathalie and David, lingering behind Emmeline. "One of our newer parishioners. I was just helping him with some meditation exercises to help him with control.
"Something the Mekhet taught me before. Thank you for helping me with that," she added, smiling at Nathalie, who returned the gesture.
"You should thank David as well. It was his idea originally." Emmeline's smile cracked a little, but she glanced toward her brother.
"Of course; David knows how grateful I am for his suggestion."
"Do I." David pocketed the small candles, and from another pocket drew out a handful of unburnt ones. He did not look away from his work, putting far more care into the placement of each small votive glass than was required. "I'm glad you and Ernesto can benefit from what you've learned." He lit one small candle with another, then carefully returned them to their jars. His lips moved in a prayer of his own, too low to be heard. He turned at last, smiling softly at the neonate.
"We're especially glad to help the newly converted."
A flash of a smile moved across Ernesto's face, and his head bobbed in acknowledgement. "I'm grateful to be here. Emmeline has been extremely helpful." Em beamed at the praise.
"It's wonderful to see you finding your place, Em. How did you rest while I was away?" Nathalie took a step forward and brushed a hand down Emmeline's arm.
"I was fine," the younger woman replied. "I've been focusing more on my duties. It helps keep me distracted, but I'm glad you're back."
"As am I," David said. Anger finally got the better of him; acid dripped from every word. "I'm sure she'll sleep better by your side than mine. Perhaps we'll all feel more rested this way."
On silent steps he slipped away from the little group, pausing only briefly to rest a hand on the neonate's shoulder. "If you need anything more," he said, "you know where to find me. Good night, brother." Ernesto turned a deep red, though his eyes followed David's fleeting figure. After a beat, he realized what he was doing and turned his gaze to the floor.
Emmeline's gaze followed her brother's retreating form, a sick sense of victory swirling in her gut. Nathalie's hand remained on her arm, and she looked back to see her Sire's expression of confusion. An excuse rose to her lips, and she turned Nathalie away from all thoughts of David.
* * *
Their tit-for-tat squabbling for the attentions of their oft traveling Sire continued over the years; things came to a head when David took a childe of his own. Emmeline welcomed her new sister with open arms, though in the ensuing nights became aloof from her brother in a new way. When Nathalie left on her missions, she no longer sought out David or his attentions, instead taking to praying in a small underground chapel that was available for Kindred during the daylight hours. Sleep was no longer her enemy, and she had come to accept the dreams for what they were, but she still felt especially alone without Nathalie nearby.
A month after Izar's Embrace found Emmeline in the chapel the night after Nathalie's most recent departure. Her hands folded into a triangle pressed against her forehead, she leaned from the first pew toward a copy of The Testament of Longinus on a pulpit at the front of the room. Barely audible whispers gave voice to whatever she was hoping to achieve in the small sanctuary.
Footsteps and the light susurration of heavy cloth sounded from behind her. David's voice rang out, echoing off wood and stone. "You become so pious whenever your true god leaves," David said. "I thought I might find you here." He moved to sit in the pew beside her. His unblinking gaze was piercing at her back. "It's a shame I have to track you like kine when I want to see you now."
Emmeline ignored him for a moment, finishing her prayer. She didn't remove her hands from her face, still leaning forward. "Kindred and kine alike have habits, David, mine make me no more mortal than yours do you.
"I'd think you'd be glad I was focusing on the church instead of pining away after Nathalie, or are you still hoping I'll direct my devotions elsewhere?" She turned her face away from her hands, instead settling her chin on her laced fingers as she regarded him.
A sneer curled his lips. "Are you incapable of managing both? It's not healthy to be so single-minded, Em. You shouldn't have to avoid your family to pay proper attention to your calling, or vice versa."
She shrugged, unruffled. "Shouldn't you be focusing on Izar? Or are you going to treat her like you think Nathalie should have treated me and leave her to her own devices?"
"Zee is quite capable of standing on her own two feet," David said. "As her Sire it is my responsibility to ensure she can care for herself in the world, should the time come when she must. I neither coddle nor neglect her, so she does not wither when I leave her side to come and see my sister." It was the closest he had yet come to pointed criticism of their maker. The words sat uneasily on his tongue, but not a hint of regret showed on his face.
Em's brows rose all the same, though her surprise was not as strong as it would have been years previous. She looked away from him and to the floor, finally sitting back against the pew. "What do you want from me, David? Simply because I find succor elsewhere than in your bed, you get upset? I would think you'd be happy to have the time back from me bothering you. I can't seem to do anything right in your eyes.
"If you're lonely, you have your own childe to amuse you now." The smallest hint of jealousy colored her words as she pulled her arms up and around her slim form.
He flinched as if struck, and found himself grateful now that she would not look at him. "A childe is not enough," he said, "and you know that. Why else would Nathalie leave us both so easily and so often."
Her heart dropped like a stone; she could not discount her brother's words. Emmeline had come to the conclusion long ago that Nathalie was either running toward something she could not find, or running away, and what else was there for her to run away from? She wanted to be angry, wanted to blame him or the church, but her exhaustion left her feeling nothing at all.
"I don't know," she finally said. "The church comes before us all. Nathalie is especially enamored of it, even before her own. That will clearly never change."
"Clearly." His voice was small: more exhalation than speech. After what seemed a long time, David reached out to his sister, lightly resting his hand on the slope of her shoulder. "If you want to make me say it, I will. I miss you. Both of you."
She turned to look at him, her exhaustion lining her face. Her jaw worked for a moment as she sought something that would make him withdraw, but she had nothing. Emmeline shouldered his hand back and scooted in his loose embrace, putting her head on his shoulder. "Was that so hard? Your bedside manner is getting better, brother."
"I'm getting soft, you mean," he said, only half teasing. His arm tightened around her, drawing her closer. "I know you don't approve. But someone has to be the iron fist to your velvet glove. You and I could have a very effective partnership here, you know. We could do so much for the Kindred here. For Nathalie."
Emmeline remained silent for a moment, considering his words. "Do you think it would make her stay?"
The answer he wanted, both for himself and for her, was not the honest one. David knew this to his very core. But it was too easy to lean into it, too tempting to ignore the truth neither of them needed. So he lied, and told himself he believed it.
"I do," he said. "I really do. You saw how pleased she was when you began mentoring the neonates. She loves this church. We could remind her of her place here. Of our place here, together."
One hand moved against his chest, balling her fist in the black cloth of his cassock. She needed to believe that there could be something for her here. She tilted her face up to meet his gaze, desperation written in her look. "I'll help. Whatever ideas you have, if you think it will bring her back and make her want to be here. I'll do it."
He should not have been so happy in the face of what he'd done, and yet all he could feel was relief and the first tentative tendrils of joy. "Good," he said, smiling softly, earnestly, down at her. He pulled her closer, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you, Em."
Eyes closed, she smiled into his affections but her thoughts were elsewhere. The thought that they had a plan, she had a plan, to bring Nathalie back and make her want to leave her travels behind permanently filled her with a sense of peace she had not had in years. She pressed into David's form, claiming the reassurance she felt there as her own for the time being.