King of the World

[Lyra Dashwood]

Let me out of here,
Give me back all my dreams,
Let me out of here,
Let me please see the sun.

So this was his study. If she remembered correctly, they'd gotten engaged for the second time standing in this room--not that she remembered that exacty, only what he'd told her later. She'd been out of her mind on love potion at the time, thanks to his sister. At least then, Elsbeth had no intention of killing her. Ah, how times had changed.

Even though she'd only been in this place once, and didn't remember that, the room seemed familiar to her. The large desk just seemed to fit--it was very August. The shelves, too, packed with books that she had never laid eyes on before, but just seemed so very perfect from what she knew of her lover. Lyra walked--or rather, limped, as she wasn't entirely recovered yet and their, ah, aerobics that morning probably hadn't helped the healing process--over to one of the shelves and began to examine a few of the large, worn tomes, letting her fingers brush over the old leather.

The movement sent a little ripple up the fabric of the robe she was wearing--one of August's, and again comically large on her tiny little frame, but it was the best he could give her while they waited for the green dress she'd worn in to be clean. Lyra shifted her weight around, clutching the robe tighter and feeling very aware of the fact that she was naked beneath it, as she was certain August was, as well. If she knew men at all, the matter would never be very far from the forefront of his mind.

Speaking of August. She looked back at him over her shoulder, tilting her head slightly. "What?" she asked, not bothering to turn around to face him. "You're staring."

  

[August Echelon-Arnost]

The more he thought about everything, the more surreal it all seemed; he was almost glad that Miss Vector was taking a few days, because he could not help but think that if anyone gave him a 'what the hell are you doing with your life' look (as his housekeeper was apt to do) he was going to start thinking that himself.

But she wasn't here, and so he did not have to worry too much; the real world would no doubt invade eventually but as it was, he had not left the house since the previous day and it was easy to pretend that nothing could interfere with them when that was what he wanted to pretend.

He had been doing a very good job of that since yesterday night; maybe he had been doing a good job of it for months. Denial was a fairly nice place, in August's experience.

There was something funny about seeing Lyra in his oversized robe, looking at the books lining the walls of his study. August couldn't pinpoint what it was, but he liked it - it was why he had been leaning in the doorway and staring at her.

"Nothing," he said, "It's just interesting - you, being here."

  

[Lyra Dashwood]

Lyra watched him a moment, as if wondering whether she ought to believe him. Did he seem like he had more on his mind? Or was it just that there ought to be more on his mind? Well, nevermind; she was through trying to make him think when he so obviously didn't want to. If he had something to say, he'd better say it, because she wasn't going to try to drag it out of him.

"Is it?" she asked simply, turning back to the bookcase. "I would have come back to Hogsmeade eventually. Just speaking statistically, I've got the rest of eternity and the world is only so big," she said dismissively, letting the word eternity roll off her tongue as if she were comfortable with the idea.

"Now seemed as good a time as any," she finished with a shrug, looking back over her shoulder at him.

  

[August Echelon-Arnost]

Eternity. August could not contemplate the idea of living forever - he did not even think that he wanted to, because the sheer breadth of the things one could learn in 'forever' overwhelmed him.

"Well, I'm glad you came back now," he said with a light laugh, deciding not to think too much about what eternity meant, "Have you thought about where you're going next?"

He wanted very much to try and talk her out of leaving; maybe, August thought, this could be his window, if he tried to finagle the conversation as best as he could.

  

[Lyra Dashwood]

"Paris," she answered immediately, then quickly diverted her eyes back to the bookcase. She couldn't blush without blood in her veins, but Lyra was sure the embarrassment would still be evident on her face. She had been caught off guard at how easily the answer rolled offher tongue, as if there was no doubt in her mind at all that she'd been back with Demetri within a matter of days.

Of course, August didn't know about Demetri. Any embarrassment she showed would likely just confuse him; there was nothing particularly scandalous about the city of Paris. Except that they'd been planning on going there on their honeymoon.

Lyra panicked; their failed elopement plans were not something she wanted to discuss at present. "I missed the Louvre the last time through," she babbled quickly, to change the subject. "D--I've got a friend who just goes on about the Louvre," she said, catching herself before saying his name. "After that, I'm not sure. Maybe south. Although I hear there's a lot of sun in that direction."

  

[August Echelon-Arnost]

Paris was nice, as far as cities went; the French, however, left something to be desired. The last time August had considered going to the city was - well, with Lyra, before she had become a vampire.

"The Louvre is okay," August said, "Although I never know how to feel about paintings that don't move." He did not know how muggles could stand to stare at a motionless picture for hours on end, although really August did not understand much of anything about how muggles lived.

"Certainly much more sun down there than here. People can say what they want about English weather, but."

  

[Lyra Dashwood]

"You get used to it," Lyra said in response to his comment about static paintings. It occurred to her that although she had only really been gone a few months, her tone and word choice sounded as though she'd been away much longer. Of course, she'd had some very busy months. She'd learned enough and experienced enough to fill a few years of her old life--back when she had written pages of diary entries on nothing but her feelings. Back when she had gleefully signed pages with Lyra Echelon-Arnost.

It had been another life. So what if she sounded older than she had when she went away? Lyra wasn't that girl anymore, not really. Talk as she might about how she missed sleep, missed dreams, missed warmth, missed sun, if things were somehow undone and she could return to her old life as Lyra Potter tomorrow, she'd never be happy. With a taste of the world on her tongue, she could never go back to playing house and writing diary entries.

August commented on the weather, and Lyra frowned. She thought she could see where he was going with this. The weather in England was better for vampires who wanted to avoid the sun, he said? Well, two could play at that game.

"Maybe Canada, then," she said easily. "I'm a bit bored of Russia." She paused, thinking. Why were they playing games at all? They both knew what he wanted, and they both knew the reality of the situation. She'd already tried to cut to the chase once, and he'd shrugged it off.

"I can't stay," she said, looking at him levelly. "You know that. If I don't get out of here tonight, I'll start getting hungry. I can't risk it. You can't risk it. I'm not experienced enough to deal with that--being surrounded by humans all the time. Especially magical ones."

Ah, yes. How quickly things had changed. Less than a year ago, she had been a witch from a long, unbroken line of magical folk, and she'd been telling August she didn't particularly like having muggles only a few miles away in Irvingly. Now, however, muggles were her livelihood, and wizards--the group she had identified with all her natural life--were a dangerous enemy. It made it difficult to know whether she ought to feel safe or not around August, but he should have been asking the same about her, and Lyra had decided as long as he was ignoring the question, she could afford to do the same.

  

[August Echelon-Arnost]

This entire situation was starting to make August feel like he was being childish - throwing a fit over something he could never have. Except he did feel that he was trying to handle this in the best way possible, even if the best way possible would have been to simply accept that she had to leave and soon.

And August could not accept that, at least not without making an effort. He could judge himself later, and if she did leave he would have a lot of time in which to judge himself.

The threat of death - of his own, of other's, of her's - was one that he could not discount, though. He frowned and tried to reach through his thoughts for something constructive, an argument that was at least partially based on logic -

"Is there not, ah, another way to get blood?" Money solved everything. He felt awkward even thinking about it, but surely there was a way to buy the blood... "I'm not suggesting that you stay here for very long," August said, although Merlin knew that he wished that he could, "Just for a bit longer than-."

  

[Lyra Dashwood]

Another way? Lyra had a cruel laugh on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back. No matter how much she wanted him to realize it--I am a vampire, vampires kill people, there is no alternative --saying that wouldn't do either of them a bit of good. So she caught the words in her throat, and in that small moment she remembered that there was, in fact, an alternative. For the first month or so of her new life, she'd survived on animal blood... She wondered if August would remember that. Had she even told him? She couldn't remember.

It wasn't really an alternative, though. Not when she'd had the real thing, now. She could drink animal blood to stay alive and stay sane, but she wouldn't, and nevermind if that made her sound like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

Using human blood was out of the question, of course. August wasn't a murderer, and he knew that even one touch of her fangs would mean death for her, ah, donor. Unless the blood got out of the body through some other method. That was a thought. She'd never trust herself with a live victim--she'd lose control and bite sooner or later--but blood bags. The sort used by healers.

She hadn't thought of that before, but she had heard of such things available for sale--mostly very expensively and in very large amounts, for hospitals--but sometimes in less pretentious markets as well. She couldn't picture August in either situation.

For one girlish moment her heart fluttered at the thought that he would be willing to purchase blood, perhaps illegally, to get her to stay. Then she told herself she was being foolish. Even if he could find some, she ought to go.

"I've never--I wouldn't know. There's blood for sale somewhere, the stuff healers use for transfusions, but I've no idea where to find it, and I can't go out and look," she said, with a gesture towards the shuttered window.

After a beat, she asked curiously, "Why do you want me to stay? It can't possibly change anything if I'm here one day or one year. Sooner or later, I'll have to leave."

  

[August Echelon-Arnost]

Blood for sale, but she did not know where to get it, and neither did he. He wondered how difficult it would be to find out - but that was a slippery slope, wasn't it? Finding out meant hinting to someone that he had need of purchasable blood and August did not know if he had a good excuse for that one on hand.

There probably wasn't a good excuse for buying blood, really. But even just a vaguely passable excuse would do.

"Because I like you," August said, still pondering the blood, "And because I like it better when you're here. That's the difference, at least to me."

Maybe it was silly - hell, it was definitely silly - but it was how he felt about the situation they were in and August had never really been in the habit of stifling his feelings once he knew that they were there. (He would deny them until the end of time before he realized them, of course, and he was used to ignoring what they meant in the scheme of things - but lying was something he liked to avoid, especially where Lyra was concerned.)

  

[Lyra Dashwood]

Lyra turned to him, hugging his robe around her and watching him with careful eyes as she considered his answer. The way the robe fit made her body seem bulkier than it was, building out her shoulders slightly, which had a rather comical effect of making her head look smaller and her eyes look bigger. Her make-up must have been in complete disrepair by now, but she didn't have any spare with her here. She'd hidden her backpack in the woods before venturing into town, since a female with a pack would have attracted too much attention.

If she was going to stay, she'd want to go and get her pack, or else send August out for it. Was she really considering staying? She still couldn't picture him going through with buying blood, and she was sure that he couldn't just play truant with her indefinitely. Sooner or later, someone would wonder where he'd gone.

"It might not be very... Civil," she warned him, about the possibility of buying blood. "It mightn't even be legal. It would be much easier and safer for you if I left. I could come back again," she suggested vaguely, but the words felt like a lie even as she said them. She might, in fact, come back again... But it might be months or years before she did. In the meantime, August could have grown old, outgrown her, found someone else... Even died.

The reminder of his mortality was sobering, and it was what caused the moment of weakness where she asked, "How exactly do you think it would work, if I stayed? Would I stay in your room, in this house? Do you have callers often? Would you make up some introduction for me, or hide me away until they left?"

The loss of her make-up bag suddenly felt very keen. Though of course she could never be allowed to meet anyone from Hogsmeade--even if he devised a cover-story, a reclusive young female cousin would be a subject of interest to the gossips.

A new maid, however, might not be. "Do you still have a housekeeper?" she asked suddenly.

  

[August Echelon-Arnost]

It would not be the first time he had done something illegal for a woman he cared very much about, but August decided that it was best not to mention Elsbeth around Lyra. Especially not after Elsbeth had tried to kill Lyra twice, and August had not seen his - whatever Lyra was - since the second time.

He nodded solemnly before launching into answering her questions, thinking that better than the whole blood thing because at least most of them were things he could say without really mulling it over. "There's a guest room in a permanent state of almost-ready for occupation," he said, "Then there's my room. Both of them have blinds in case of sun, and callers usually send warning in advance so I think that we would have at least some time to come up with a case by case strategy."

The question about his housekeeper gave him pause. "She's in the country for the next two weeks or so," August said, wondering, for the first time, how the house would fair without Joanna for so long.

Now was really not the time to worry about the cleanliness of his home, though.

"What are you thinking?"