Kept
Fae Harlow
1/03/03

A shiver passed through her, soul deep causing the fine hairs on her arm to stand on end. What was she doing here? She shouldn't be here. Mira knew he didn't really expect her to come. Hadn't he told her time and again that he would not look for her, if she did not come? Yet, here she was, standing in a small quiet coffee shop. They had met in this place for the last ten years. This night, every year on this date-- She had never missed it, nor had he.

Mira glanced at the tiny hands of the watch that encircled her wrist. She was early. It was her habit. To come early, and sit and watch. She always watched, standing on the outside looking in.

That was the place she had always been, on the outside. In the shadows, surrounded by them, embraced by them. It never occurred to her that she might find someone just as on the outside as she. His disconnection was for a completely different reason. The shadows had always embraced him, aided him and seemingly brought him to her.

Mira would never understand what had drawn them together. She would never comprehend what had convinced her to befriend him, when everything she'd ever learned, ever knew told her Doran was the enemy. He was darkness and evil, something to be run from instead of to.

Knowing she should fear him, yet finding not an inkling of that emotion within herself had both worried and intrigued her. She had once read that they could cast a thrall on you, taking from you you're natural inclinations. Mira knew she was under no spell. No magic was at work.

Mira shook herself from the memories, allowing her eyes to scan the room once more, all too aware of the fact that if he did not want to be seen, he would not be.

She wasn't going to be there. Doran had readied himself for that for years, for the moment when she would break their insane bargain. What he had been thinking the night it had been struck, he would never know. His head had been too full of her to think clearly. He'd grown accustomed to her.

Doran had expected a great many things when those forbidden words had left his lips. Yes had not been one of them. Her agreement had not been immediate. Mira had stared up at him for an eternity, her wide blue eyes bright and curious. She had been silent for so long he thought he had scared her senseless. Then her lips had curved into an odd half smile.

"If that is what you wish, then yes." A promise made under the moon's full light.

And so it began. It was simple, really. It was a starting point, a yearly meeting between friends -- one that changed and one that did not. Doran could never wait to see her, wait to see what changes the year had wrought on her form.

At seventeen, she had been a child yet uncertain of herself. Each year she had changed, until finally he found himself sitting across from a woman he did not know, a woman that both intrigued and worried him.

Mira had become, over the years, everything he had seen within her and more. She had embraced so many things, taking the craft that she had merely dabbled in and making it her way of life. She came to him with a single silver band around her ring finger, the hands, heart and crown, proclaiming she belonged to none. He smiled, recalling the day he'd first realized what she must have already known.

Mira had stood before him, all fire and earth, smelling of magic recently cast. He studied her face in the shadows, drinking in the changes, holding her slender, elegant fingers clasped in his longer, stronger ones. Her eyes seemed to glow with some ethereal inner fire.

Doran remembered gently pulling the tiny silver ring from her right hand and placing it on the ring finger of her left, the heart facing outward. He did not remember the words he'd spoken, only that she had made no denial of his claim.

"Is it not odd that I've bound myself completely to a man who has never so much as kissed me?"

Her voice shocked him. Sure he was imagining it, and yet unable to deny the solid warmth of her standing behind him, he turned slowly, his eyes drinking in the changes yet another year had brought.

Her once short hair had grown out and now fell in wild waves of a burnished brown well past her shoulders. It begged to be touched. He found his hand reaching to caress the single lock that fell forward into her face. The reason she had cut it six years earlier was that her annoyance with it had finally gotten the better of her. He felt an unbidden smile form on his lips as her words registered.

"Was that an invitation?" Doran questioned, pitching his dark voice even lower. He watched her eyes widen slightly.

"No, merely a statement of fact," she answered easily.

Doran held her gaze for a long moment, finding himself not for the first time wondering if her breath tasted as sweet as it smelled, like she had recently eaten some of the lemon candy she adored.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief as they held his.

"I really thought this would be the year you would not come." Doran said finally, taking her hand in his own. He toyed absently with the silver ring that adorned her ring finger, brushing his fingers lightly over the small silver band and dusting them over her palm.

Mira blushed softly in the half-light, curling her fingers around his and stopping their movement, yet holding them fast. "I keep my promises." She insisted. "How is this done? You had said you would not have me as you are. Yet I see no other way," she said finally, getting right to the point.

Doran felt his eyes widen and breath that was not needed catch in his chest. She was serious. She was willing to be as he was. A shiver passed through him as shock and pleasure filled him.

"You can't mean to…" Doran words trailed off, as pale fingers curved against his lips stopping his words.

Her skin was soft and warm, filled with vibrancy and life, something he had always been drawn to. With it there was something else. A kind of power hummed about her, like the mighty wings of a great beast, beating against its confines.

His eyes caught on hers, their seemingly glowing depths, suddenly magnetic.

"A promise made in moons light is as binding as any made in blood. Did you not know?" Mira said quietly.

"I do not understand why you have willingly tied yourself to me. You know what I am. I am all that you are not." Doran managed to force past the longing that demanded he simply except what she was offering.

"Then you do not want me?" her question was soft, and somehow Doran was certain that it had many meanings.

"Yes. No. I mean--" How was it that this girl -- no, this woman, who was a mere child when compared to him, had him so completely on edge. She had agreed to share the shadows with him, knowing full well what it meant. "I want you," he said, finally stepping closer.

Her warmth pressed against the cold solidarity of his unchanging form. Her breath brushed against his chin. Her eyes held his, and Doran knew beyond doubt that this would seal their fate.

Her lips were warm, warmer then he had ever imagined. Her arms remained at her side, only to curl around him after a moment. Her fingers played with the shorter hair that grew at the nape of his neck. He drew his lips from hers, allowing her to draw in a much needed breath.

She tasted like lemon drops with the edge of tea flavored with honey. Her eyes fluttered open after a moment, locking on his. The color darkened considerably. Her breath bathed his lips with each exhalation.

Doran drew back from her, lifting her left hand to his lips. He pressed a lingering kiss to the metal that encircled her ring finger. "You are mine then, Mira?" It was not a question that need be asked; yet her response still had the power to catch his breath.

"Was there ever any doubt?"