Another chapter is down and away in the history books. Another that just slipped over ten thousand words, making it two in a row, and leaving the story hovering around one hundred and three thousand, five hundred words total.
It was another two thousand word day, too, because I wrote about a thousand words for my Humans recap, and then almost eleven hundred for this scene, which is below. That’s a couple of two thousand word days back-to-back, and it’s also been a while since I’ve done that. Part of it was getting into the groove, part of it was grooving out on some good tunes, including one song that is gonna play an important part in Annie and Kerry’s relationship. I like that, with this story, I’m starting to integrate the music more than I did in the last. Because, comes right down to it, kids love music, so why wouldn’t it be important to the little witches of Salem? Which makes me wonder if they crank up the jams when they’re crafting the spells? Probably do once in a while in Wednesday’s class.
Now that the kids are in the garden, where are they going with this? Well . . .
(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)
Kerry barley pressed the fingers of his left hand to the bottom of Annie’s chin; there were there to steady her, nothing more. As she was still in her low heels he moved closer and stretched just enough upward to kiss her, his lips lightly touching hers. He closed his eyes and waited for that sensation he’d felt so often of late, one where he felt as if he were falling into her, thought her body and into her aura. It was a wonderful feeling, and every kiss he shared with Annie he desired this sensation as much as he desired her kiss.
He broke the kiss and wrapped her up within his arms. “I love you, Anelie Victoreva.”
She loved it when he used her patronymic, and though he didn’t actually have one, she had begun addressing them that way when they found themselves in quiet, personal moments like now. “I love you, Kerrigan Davynavich.”
He chuckled. “I hate my name.”
“But it’s your name, and since it’s attached to the boy I love, I love the name.” She leaned in and kissed him on the nose. “It’s been such a special night.”
Now, a little bit about patronymics. Where Annie lives, family names are tricky. The reality is–as it was related to me–the family name is Kirilovi, but the name changes when you’re discussing men and women. Annie’s dad, being a guy, drops the “i”, which is why he’s Victor Kirilov, and Kerry didn’t realize that Annie’s father was a Formula 1 driver. Her mother, Pavlina, substitutes the “i” for an “a”, and that makes the family name Kirilova, which is the same thing Annie does.
Middle names are easy for girls: you take your father’s name and add “eva” to it. So, Anelie–Annie’s real given name–Victoreva–her father’s name with “eva” added. Annie did something different with Kerry’s name, however, because when it comes to boys, their middle name is the father’s name plus “vich”, and to make it sound right you can add an “a” or “i” before the suffix if you think it’s necessary. Kerry’s father’s name is Davyn, hence “Davynavich”, though Annie could have easily said, “Davynvich”.
If you want some real fun, when Annie gets married to Kerry–noticed I didn’t say “if”–by Bulgarian law she take take her husband’s family name, or keep her family, or use a hyphenate of the two. So she could marry and legally end up known as Annie Malibey, or Annie Kirilova, or Annie Kirilova-Malibey, or Annie Malibey-Kirilova. And, if you really want to crank this up to eleven, she could become so well known by her patronymic, that she’d be known as Annie Victoreva.
Now that we have that information dump out of the way, Kerry’s got something on his mind:
“It has.” They began walking along the path leading to the walkway that would take them to their tower. “Did you have a good talk with Deanna?”
Annie had begun to wonder if Kerry was going to ask her about her time alone with the seer. “Yes, I did.”
“Did you discuss our visions?”
She shrugged. “She said that since we don’t know what happened in the second vision, there’s nothing to prove that our feelings in the first vision are unwarranted.”
“Which means means we should just let things happen—” He shot her a knowing glance.
She nodded as they stepped on to the walk between the Great Hall and Cernunnos Coven tower. “Exactly.”
Kerry let the subject hang until they were almost under the covered portion of the walk. “Wanna sit for a bit before going in?”
Annie leaned against Kerry. “Yes.” She led them towards their bench and sat, snuggling against Kerry the moment he sat. “She was right about that second vision: we don’t really know what happened there.”
“And we won’t until we actually encounter that room—” He slowly placed his arm around Annie’s shoulders and slid it down to her waist. “—whenever that is.”
This is something these two have discussed, so he knows what’s on her mind. What they know about the second vision is that they don’t know what happened, so the best thing to do is let it be:
She made herself comfortable against her soul mate. “It happens in a couple of years; I’m sure of that for some reason.”
The vision had begun to weigh on Kerry for the last couple of weeks, and this impressions of the time frame were similar. “I think so, too. It’s just—”
“How are we out flying somewhere on our own?”
She slid a few centimeters to her left so she could set her head against Kerry’s shoulder. “We’ll find out in time.”
Of course you kids could ask me, but . . . not telling.
Since spending most of his A Levels reading up on divination and visions, Kerry had begun to hate the idea of having to wait to find out where the vision he’d had would come true. There’s wasn’t just the vision they’d both had at the beginning of this year, but the one he had his first time visiting Memory’s End, and they one they eventually shared months apart. “I still think our first time will be when we get married.”
“I believe the same.” Annie sighed. “That won’t happen until after you turn eighteen—at the soonest. We should be in the last months of our real life experience that summer.”
“Nothing more real life than getting married, right?” Kerry chuckled, but the unease he felt made his voice waver. “Six years: that’s a long time.”
“As long as I’ve loved you.” Annie twisted so she could glide her fingers across his cheek. “We will make it.”
“I know we will.”
That’s a good indication of how long this relationship has lasted. Annie said she started falling in love with Kerry when he was six, she was almost seven, which makes her time frame correct. And they knew each other before that, so to say they’ve known each other all their lives is not a misnomer. They’ve been together a long time, and Annie fully expects them to be together another hundred years.
And now she gets into the really touchy-feely part of the discussion:
Since becoming aware of their wedding night vision they’d tried not to speak of the event, mostly due to not wanting to do or say something that might color how they’d handle the event when they were older. Annie knew this was for the best, but there was this single issue that remained important to her. “Tonight I told Deanna that I knew I would be your first, and that you would be my first.” She settled in against his body again. “I want to wait until we’re married, darling.”
He pulled her tighter against him. “I know; we should.”
“Dealing with that in our relationship . . .” She shook her head. “It brings another level of complexity I’m not ready to handle. You aren’t either: neither of us are.”
Kerry wouldn’t argue because there wasn’t any need. It was one thing to have the relation they shared now—one that was loving and caring and even, in the eyes of some, mature—but neither of them were that mature that they could handle the one thing that would bind them together in a way that nothing else would. “You’re right: we’re not ready. Not for many years.” He chuckled. “Probably not until we marry. There is one thing you’re right about, though—”
“You will be my first. I promise.”
Annie leaned back just enough to see Kerry’s face. “Would you do a Sorceress’ Bargain with me to ensure that happens?”
He didn’t hesitate with his answer. “Yes.”
She kissed his cheek. “There’s no need for that; I believe you. And you can believe me when I say there will be no other boy.” Annie pressed her cheek against his. “I will be yours completely, my love.”
The light around them extinguished at that moment, plunging the Pentagram Garden into darkness. Annie pressed her arms tightly against her body, holding in the warmth that was slowly dispersing. “I think it’s time for bed.”
Kerry stood and helped Annie to her feet. “Wish we weren’t going to separate rooms.”
She walked slowly alongside her boyfriend. “Tonight we sleep apart; tomorrow—who knows?” She swung their arms. “Maybe the headmistress will give us a room of our own.”
“That would be nice, but . . .” He laughed at the idea of sharing a room in the coven tower. “I don’t see it happening any time soon.”
“Neither do I.” She kissed the back of his hand. “We will always have our dreams, though. We will share those when we can, my love, and live in them where we can’t here.” She let her sight draw out for many seconds. “For now, it is the best we have.”
One could argue that if they sit around and think about sex all the time, it’s gonna happy because they’re thinking about it all the time. But they are convinced they will be the first for each other, and Kerry making the offer of a Sorceress’ Bargain is his way of making sure they stay together and stay, well, unsullied. It’s a quaint idea, but Annie doesn’t want to trip off into the minefield that has destroyed other relationships, and Kerry is being supportive. As pointed out by others at the school, their relationship is so mature it’s not like you’re looking at a couple of kids–then again, they have known each other for about a decade, so they’ve had time to understand each other.
Samhain is over: it’s time to get into November, and I’m about to do it in a big way–