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A Darker Prometheus I: Ariel
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Angel the Series › FemmeSlash - Female/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
1,940
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Category:
Angel the Series › FemmeSlash - Female/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
1,940
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Angel: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Ariel
Part Two: Ariel.
Back at the house, Darla found that the old woman had passed away while she had been out. Oh, well, she thought, no great loss. Old blood tasted thin, like bird’s blood; not very satisfying. The town was so full of other life, hearty and vigorous. And all wrapped up for Christmas, Darla chuckled.
After disposing of the body in the marginally less hard-packed soil of the vegetable garden, Darla went back upstairs to move her few personal things into the main bedroom. Her luggage had been delivered from her previous lodgings earlier that evening. Removing several new dresses from the larger of two trunks she pulled out a cloth bag containing various bits and pieces she had assembled over the years. Amongst the eclectic collection was a small book of the Catholic catechism, its leather cover battered and torn, the pages thick and ragged with use. She smiled to herself as she recalled the night she acquired the little volume.
Darla often took some small trifle from her kills, sometimes cash or jewellery to sell, sometimes an item to keep for a while if it amused her. The prostitute she had fed on that night had cried piteously, clutching the tattered tome to her breast as Darla drained the life from her. The woman had grabbed the book, around which was wrapped a cheap set of rosary beads, from the bedside table in her struggles; a final attempt perhaps to gain a little credit towards the salvation of her soul in the last moments before meeting her Maker. The little book and beads had fallen from her lifeless hands onto the floor. The tuppeny whore had almost no personal items worth taking but for some reason, perhaps just out of spite, Darla had kicked aside the rosary but picked up the little book.
*****
Voices raised in a joyous hymn then hushed for the final solemn prayer were followed by the assorted sounds of the li chu church’s largest congregation of the year pouring out of the double doors and on to the street. Darla stepput out of the shadows into the flow of departing faithful, searching the crowd for the young couple she had observed the night before.
After a few minutes Darla caught sight of her quarry. This time the girl was on the arm of an elderly man, probably her father, while her beau was with a slightly younger couple and another young girl of about thirteen years, evidently his parents and sister. The two groups talked for a while then moved off in opposite directions, the young lovers turning to steal a last glance at each other as they headed for their respective coaches.
Darla moved quickly towards the young woman and her aged father who was shuffling a little unsteadily through the still-milling crowd. As the girl helped her father into their coach Darla appeared suddenly beside her, bumping into her and dropping the tattered little catechism to the ground. The girl turned around, apologising for the blunder and bent down to retrieve the book.
‘Not at all,’ Darla said, flashing a radiant smile. ‘It was entirely my own fault for not looking where I was going. I am new to the area and am afraid I was a little confused. I am visiting a sick relative in Newbury Street and am uncertain which direction to take home.’
Observing Darla’s fine clothing, the younger woman noted the unexpected contrast with the scratched and faded old book. Accepting the volume with a shy smile, Darla pretended embarrassment.
‘It is rather shabby, I know, and I really should replace it,’ she giggled, rasing a smile from the other girl, ‘but it has sentimental value.’ Holding out her hand to the young woman she said, ‘My name is Darla… Darla Masters.’
am am Ariel Connor.’ The girl had the most unusual green eyes; a deep forest green edged in black. ‘Are you red tod to Judge Masters? He has quite a large family around here.’
‘Why, yes,’ Darla answered, ‘I am one of the Masters children.’ She smiled again, delighted by the irony. ‘Indeed, I am.’
‘Would you like to share our carriage?’ Ariel offered. ‘We are going past Newbury Street.’
Darla graciously consented and by the time she alighted outside her new residence had received and accepted an invitation to dinner in two evening’s time.
*****
Over the next few weeks Ariel and Darla became fast friends. Ariel’s mother had died when the girl was just six years old. As she had no brothers or sisters, or indeed any close family in the area, Ariel was starved for lively young company. Darla explained that she had been travelling on the Continent but had recently returned to care for a sick aunt whom she cared dur during the day, leaving her with a nurse at night. Ariel was especially fascinated by Darla’s descriptions of her travels, never having been overseas herself but expressed a hope to do so during her honeymoon.
Ariel had become engaged the previous summer to Liam, the dark, handsome young man Darla had seen outside the church. They were to be married the following spring, t aft after Ariel’s eighteenth birthday. The girls spent most evenings together at cards, laughing and chatting, trying on new garments for Ariel’s trousseau, playing the piano and singing. Ariel felt like she had gained a sister as well as a friend.
*****
Towards the end of January Ariel fell ill. Darla, her constant friend, came every evening to sit with her, gossiping and reading, sometimes quietly singing the ailing girl to sleep. This was much appreciated by Ariel’s elderly father who was himself in rather poor health and did not trust the servants to care for his daughter properly. Darls cos compassionate and attentive, holding Ariel’s hand, cooling her fevered brow and brushing her long auburn hair. She even insisted on bathing Ariel herself rather than allowing one of the ladies’ maids to do it. Even so, Ariel grew progressively worse.
A procession of doctors proved unable to determine the cause of Ariel’s consumption-like symptoms. Althouge wae was pale and feverish, weakening further with each day spent abed, her lungs were clear and her heart remained strong.
*****
Darla took Ariel’s hot hand in hers, smoothing the girl’s flushed and fevered brow with her own chill touch.
‘Your hands are so cool, Darla,’ whispered Ariel. ‘So soothing.’
Darla’s fingertips moved slowly across tverbverblown roses of Ariel’s burning cheek, brushing away a lock of sweat-darkened hair from the afflicted girl’s throat. Suddenly, Darla jerked her hand away as a jolt of searing pain lanced through her fingers and along her forearm.
Ariel’s emerald eyes looked into the deep blue of Darla’s, concerned. ‘What is wrong, Darla?’
Darla reached slowly towards the front of Ariel’s nightgown, carefully parting the lace at the neck of the garment which was unbuttoned for the sick girl’s comfort, to reveal a small golden cross. It was studded with rubies and tiny pearls and hung from a fine gold chain resting against the slight curveArieAriel’s alabaster breast.
‘What … is that?’ Darla said, trying to keep the disgust she felt at the sight of the foul object from reflecting in her voice.
‘Did it prick you?’ asked Ariel weakly.
‘It is nothing,’ Darla said flatly, resting her throbbing left hand in her lap. ‘Just a scratch.’
Ariel reached up to touch the cross, the veins of her hand blue and distended. ‘Is it not lovely? Liam gave it to me on our engagement day.’ The stricken gimilemiled, momentarily strengthened by the thought of her fiancé. ‘He said the rubies represent the blood which Christ bled for us and the pearls are his tears shed for our sins. The gold reminds us of the golden crowns which the redeemed will wear in heaven.’ Ariel paused. ‘He does not really believe in it himself but he respects my own devotion to God. I am hoping, after we are married, that Liam will be more receptive to God’s promise of redemption and eternal life.’
hapshaps I should remove it,’ Darla suggested, reaching cautiously behind Ariel’s neck to unclasp the chain without touching the cross a. ‘I. ‘I will place it here, where you can see it.’ Darla draped the chain over a silver candlestick on the small table beside the bed, hanging the cross where Ariel could still view it from her bed. ‘We would not want you to cut yourself, now would we?’
*****
Despite the constant attentions of a succession of doctors, some of whom had been brought from as far away as Dublin, just three weeks into her illness Ariel died in her sleep. Darla was not seen at the house again.
While preparing the body for burial, the nuns from the local hospice noticed several small scars on Ariel’s body. There were tiny bruises and traces of more recent wounds behind her knees, in her armpits and under her hair at the back of the neck.
*****
Back at the house, Darla found that the old woman had passed away while she had been out. Oh, well, she thought, no great loss. Old blood tasted thin, like bird’s blood; not very satisfying. The town was so full of other life, hearty and vigorous. And all wrapped up for Christmas, Darla chuckled.
After disposing of the body in the marginally less hard-packed soil of the vegetable garden, Darla went back upstairs to move her few personal things into the main bedroom. Her luggage had been delivered from her previous lodgings earlier that evening. Removing several new dresses from the larger of two trunks she pulled out a cloth bag containing various bits and pieces she had assembled over the years. Amongst the eclectic collection was a small book of the Catholic catechism, its leather cover battered and torn, the pages thick and ragged with use. She smiled to herself as she recalled the night she acquired the little volume.
Darla often took some small trifle from her kills, sometimes cash or jewellery to sell, sometimes an item to keep for a while if it amused her. The prostitute she had fed on that night had cried piteously, clutching the tattered tome to her breast as Darla drained the life from her. The woman had grabbed the book, around which was wrapped a cheap set of rosary beads, from the bedside table in her struggles; a final attempt perhaps to gain a little credit towards the salvation of her soul in the last moments before meeting her Maker. The little book and beads had fallen from her lifeless hands onto the floor. The tuppeny whore had almost no personal items worth taking but for some reason, perhaps just out of spite, Darla had kicked aside the rosary but picked up the little book.
*****
Voices raised in a joyous hymn then hushed for the final solemn prayer were followed by the assorted sounds of the li chu church’s largest congregation of the year pouring out of the double doors and on to the street. Darla stepput out of the shadows into the flow of departing faithful, searching the crowd for the young couple she had observed the night before.
After a few minutes Darla caught sight of her quarry. This time the girl was on the arm of an elderly man, probably her father, while her beau was with a slightly younger couple and another young girl of about thirteen years, evidently his parents and sister. The two groups talked for a while then moved off in opposite directions, the young lovers turning to steal a last glance at each other as they headed for their respective coaches.
Darla moved quickly towards the young woman and her aged father who was shuffling a little unsteadily through the still-milling crowd. As the girl helped her father into their coach Darla appeared suddenly beside her, bumping into her and dropping the tattered little catechism to the ground. The girl turned around, apologising for the blunder and bent down to retrieve the book.
‘Not at all,’ Darla said, flashing a radiant smile. ‘It was entirely my own fault for not looking where I was going. I am new to the area and am afraid I was a little confused. I am visiting a sick relative in Newbury Street and am uncertain which direction to take home.’
Observing Darla’s fine clothing, the younger woman noted the unexpected contrast with the scratched and faded old book. Accepting the volume with a shy smile, Darla pretended embarrassment.
‘It is rather shabby, I know, and I really should replace it,’ she giggled, rasing a smile from the other girl, ‘but it has sentimental value.’ Holding out her hand to the young woman she said, ‘My name is Darla… Darla Masters.’
am am Ariel Connor.’ The girl had the most unusual green eyes; a deep forest green edged in black. ‘Are you red tod to Judge Masters? He has quite a large family around here.’
‘Why, yes,’ Darla answered, ‘I am one of the Masters children.’ She smiled again, delighted by the irony. ‘Indeed, I am.’
‘Would you like to share our carriage?’ Ariel offered. ‘We are going past Newbury Street.’
Darla graciously consented and by the time she alighted outside her new residence had received and accepted an invitation to dinner in two evening’s time.
*****
Over the next few weeks Ariel and Darla became fast friends. Ariel’s mother had died when the girl was just six years old. As she had no brothers or sisters, or indeed any close family in the area, Ariel was starved for lively young company. Darla explained that she had been travelling on the Continent but had recently returned to care for a sick aunt whom she cared dur during the day, leaving her with a nurse at night. Ariel was especially fascinated by Darla’s descriptions of her travels, never having been overseas herself but expressed a hope to do so during her honeymoon.
Ariel had become engaged the previous summer to Liam, the dark, handsome young man Darla had seen outside the church. They were to be married the following spring, t aft after Ariel’s eighteenth birthday. The girls spent most evenings together at cards, laughing and chatting, trying on new garments for Ariel’s trousseau, playing the piano and singing. Ariel felt like she had gained a sister as well as a friend.
*****
Towards the end of January Ariel fell ill. Darla, her constant friend, came every evening to sit with her, gossiping and reading, sometimes quietly singing the ailing girl to sleep. This was much appreciated by Ariel’s elderly father who was himself in rather poor health and did not trust the servants to care for his daughter properly. Darls cos compassionate and attentive, holding Ariel’s hand, cooling her fevered brow and brushing her long auburn hair. She even insisted on bathing Ariel herself rather than allowing one of the ladies’ maids to do it. Even so, Ariel grew progressively worse.
A procession of doctors proved unable to determine the cause of Ariel’s consumption-like symptoms. Althouge wae was pale and feverish, weakening further with each day spent abed, her lungs were clear and her heart remained strong.
*****
Darla took Ariel’s hot hand in hers, smoothing the girl’s flushed and fevered brow with her own chill touch.
‘Your hands are so cool, Darla,’ whispered Ariel. ‘So soothing.’
Darla’s fingertips moved slowly across tverbverblown roses of Ariel’s burning cheek, brushing away a lock of sweat-darkened hair from the afflicted girl’s throat. Suddenly, Darla jerked her hand away as a jolt of searing pain lanced through her fingers and along her forearm.
Ariel’s emerald eyes looked into the deep blue of Darla’s, concerned. ‘What is wrong, Darla?’
Darla reached slowly towards the front of Ariel’s nightgown, carefully parting the lace at the neck of the garment which was unbuttoned for the sick girl’s comfort, to reveal a small golden cross. It was studded with rubies and tiny pearls and hung from a fine gold chain resting against the slight curveArieAriel’s alabaster breast.
‘What … is that?’ Darla said, trying to keep the disgust she felt at the sight of the foul object from reflecting in her voice.
‘Did it prick you?’ asked Ariel weakly.
‘It is nothing,’ Darla said flatly, resting her throbbing left hand in her lap. ‘Just a scratch.’
Ariel reached up to touch the cross, the veins of her hand blue and distended. ‘Is it not lovely? Liam gave it to me on our engagement day.’ The stricken gimilemiled, momentarily strengthened by the thought of her fiancé. ‘He said the rubies represent the blood which Christ bled for us and the pearls are his tears shed for our sins. The gold reminds us of the golden crowns which the redeemed will wear in heaven.’ Ariel paused. ‘He does not really believe in it himself but he respects my own devotion to God. I am hoping, after we are married, that Liam will be more receptive to God’s promise of redemption and eternal life.’
hapshaps I should remove it,’ Darla suggested, reaching cautiously behind Ariel’s neck to unclasp the chain without touching the cross a. ‘I. ‘I will place it here, where you can see it.’ Darla draped the chain over a silver candlestick on the small table beside the bed, hanging the cross where Ariel could still view it from her bed. ‘We would not want you to cut yourself, now would we?’
*****
Despite the constant attentions of a succession of doctors, some of whom had been brought from as far away as Dublin, just three weeks into her illness Ariel died in her sleep. Darla was not seen at the house again.
While preparing the body for burial, the nuns from the local hospice noticed several small scars on Ariel’s body. There were tiny bruises and traces of more recent wounds behind her knees, in her armpits and under her hair at the back of the neck.
*****