In a Field of Stone

I stood in the doorway of the Haven, allowing my eyes adjust to the dim light and looking for the familiar face of my Beloved. He stood behind the glassed booth, moving in time to the pulsing beat of the music he played, his hands at the decks. He looked so different to me. His long red hair cascaded down his shoulders and his very human looking face was turned to a battered iPod. His eyes, though, were the eyes of a feral creature.

Grr looked up! “Spirit Gal!” he smiled, beckoning me closer. I stepped into the booth beside him and as I came nearer, his eyes narrowed with concern as he studied me. “Are you doin’ ok, Spirit Gal?”

I nodded, though I was acutely aware of his gaze on my puffed and bruised lips.

Grr frowned, stepped and stepped back from the deck to inspect my face. “That wasn’t there when ya spoke with Her Ladyship… you been chasin’ cars and catchin’ them?” he asked gently.

My fingers went to my mouth. “No, Beloved... Mr. Constantine... wished to show me something.” I felt embarrassed by my weakness.

Grr narrowed his eyes and lifted his lips in a distinctly canine baring of teeth, regardless of his human looking form. I moved closer to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and moving under the shadow of his arm.

Grr pulled me toward him. “If he wants ta tech ya somethin’ again, let me know, ok?

“Yes... yes... Beloved,” I replied, leaning my head into the side of his chest.

“I don’t abide tha beatin’ on tha weak,” Grr frowned.

I looked up at him. “He didn't hit me.... He was…” I trailed off.

Grr cupped my chin and tilted my head toward him. “Trainin' accident? Doorknob jumped up at ya?”

I fumbled for words. “He was trying to show me something…. “

“And yer face got busted?” Grr asked. “Or did you take tha wound from someone else, pranic?”

I shook my head for I’d healed no one. “He held my arm behind my back... and when he became displeased... he pushed me away... I fell with the force of it.”

Grr’s hand moved to rest on the hilt of his sword. “And he was restrainin' you fer his own safety?”

“No.... “ I looked away. “It was because I didn’t see… the difference between art and garbage.”

“Uh huh,” Grr grimaced. “Art lesson from an angel. A violent angel. And people call me a beast. I'll never understand Fleshie culture….”

“Please don't lecture me, Beloved,” I pleaded, “Please just... hold me.”

Grr lifted his hand under my chin again and drew me back toward him. “Can I tend yer face, Spirit Gal?”

I nodded mutely.

Grr let go of me and began rummaging in his pouch, letting it glow for some time, and withdrawing his hand. In his hand was a small jar, and a cloth. He dabbed the cloth in the ointment and applied it carefully to my broken and swollen lip. “This will be numbin’,” he murmured soothingly. “I ain’t even begun a lecture, Spirit Gal, I'm just assessin' tha situation.”

I held quite still as he finished dabbing the ointment, replaced the lid and then handed it to me, closing my fingers over the small jar. “Calendula cream, it'll fix it up in a day, faster at yer healin’ rates, I expect. Nareth won’t even notice by tomorrow, I expect.”

I took the little jar and dropped it into my pocket. I was thankful, and yet a lump had risen in my throat at Grr’s mention of Nareth. He turned to look at smile at sadly. Lifted my hand to his shoulder, taking a strand of his hair and twisting it around my fingertip, uncertain at the sadness on his face. He looked deep into my eyes.

“I want ya to be happy, Beloved… and safe.” Grr draped an arm around me, holding me close to him, protectively. I leaned into him again, relishing his human touch, and the feeling of being held tenderly.

He cleared his throat and spoke hesitantly. “Yer gunna leave, aintcha? strike out on yer own, or with Nareth?”

I felt the tears welling in my eyes. “I can't just let her go... But I can't leave you either, Beloved. I’d perish,” I said quietly.

Grr nodded slowly. “No lectures… I meant what I said, still do.”

“You'll think it strange,” I tried to explain, “But... somehow I feel I have to look after her... though there are two Gardens of entirely different sorts between us.”

“No, not strange at all, Spirit Gal,” Grr replied tenderly. “I’ll probably understand better than most.”

I gazed into his eyes. “You do?” I asked quietly.

“I think I might. I live in two worlds. Spirit Gal, in two skins, in two worlds. I live alone from my own kind. I’m not human, Spirit Gal, I never was. I see all this, with different eyes. My instincts, my values, they ain’t tha same as yers, as hers, even Her ladyship’s….”

I nodded slowly. “I’m not human, either.”

“No, I guess not,” he smiled, “But, well, I think ya got a better handle on it, so, that difference, it frees ya…”

“I will always be yours, Beloved.” I squeezed his smooth hand. “So soft.”

He, in turn, just held me. “Be safe, Spirit Gal… be safe.”