Vacation in the Mountains

[7twistedwishes]

The road itself ended on a sturdy shed a half mile behind; from there, a steep path climbs following the cascading mountain stream, just far enough from it to not be slippery with droplets of water; each curve of the way offers a view of a miniature rainbow lit up by the morning sun.

The cabin is built with classic, durable Old World workmanship combined with modern conveniences; a satellite dish on the roof and a central air unit by one wall reveal the presence of such upgrades to modern comfort. A wooden swing hangs from dual chains on the porch, swaying gently in the breeze. The lake that feeds the stream is perhaps fifty yards from the cabin itself, the scent of cold, fresh water mixing with the pine and grass on the wind. A raccoon drinking from the lake looks up, then scampers away, chittering in displeasure at the intruders into its domain.

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[7twistedwishes]

Inside the cabin, a big, overstuffed and comfortable couch sits in front of the fireplace, a thick fur rug decorating the floor. The entertainment system is modern, but not ostentatious: a big-screen TV with matching speakers tucked in the corners of the room.

Bookshelves hold collections of reading material, and curios display keepsakes, mementos and knickknacks of several kinds. There is a kitchen and dining room, and a bedroom with an en-suite bathroom, the whole place following the same theme of comfort and commodity.

[mechanicalswans]

The conveniences are much more modern than the cabin accommodations Weyland is used to, but he does not object. He glances around as he steps in, small weekend-bag in hand.

[7twistedwishes]

Hopefully he will also give a word of approval: she likes the contrast of wilderness outside and modern convenience inside, and while The Devil picked the location to cater for his tastes, she also wanted it to include some of hers.

Spirit of indulgence or not, she is ready to start sweeping away anything Weyland disapproves of.

[mechanicalswans]

He would not be so rude as to express disapproval with anything. He's a guest, after all.

And anyway, she has seen to their every need, and this is their vacation, not just his.

He sets the bag down by the couch. "You've chosen a beautiful place, my star," he says quietly.

[7twistedwishes]

She walks over and holds Weyland's arm.

Oh, indeed, their vacation and her vain hope of being able to speak her heart, but... she will try to make it enjoyable. "I tried to make it perfect for you."

[mechanicalswans]

"I've never known you to be anything less than perfect," he says. "We will have a wonderful time--what shall we do first? Is there already food here, shall we catch some, or shall we just have a quiet time out on the swing?"

[7twistedwishes]

"Well, we have some food... but we could enhance our next meal with fish, fowl or veal as you prefer, all of those can be found around here." She leans closer, breathing in his scent. "Anything you wish to do, Weyland, I would be glad to follow."

[mechanicalswans]

"But surely you must have some preferences of your own," he murmurs, slipping an arm around her waist. "We shall do what you want right now, my star. No catering to the desires of others--only catering to your own."

[7twistedwishes]

"My desire is to cater to your desires." She holds to Weyland, smiling softly. "Anything we can do together, would be nothing but joy for me."

[mechanicalswans]

He studies her carefully for a moment, before shrugging lightly.

"Then I should like to have a pleasant smoke out on the swing, watch the animals go by."

[7twistedwishes]

The Devil smiles brightly, nodding. "Should we take a blanket along? Or just cuddle close for warmth?" It is not like mundane cold will cause either of them harm, but excuses to hold each other are always good.

[mechanicalswans]

"I don't think we have much need of blankets," he says. "You'll find I am quite warm. Is there somewhere outside we can build a campfire later, if we want? I do like fire."

[7twistedwishes]

"Yes, there is a bonfire pit behind the house, a good place to sit and relax." The Devil grins to Weyland. "I know how warm you are, my dear."

[mechanicalswans]

"Of course," he says softly. "But that will be for later. For now... possibly drinks, as well? Whatever you like."

[7twistedwishes]

"Cognac. I think cognac is the perfect beverage to be enjoyed when holding close someone who is dear to you." Eshara tiptoes, kisses his cheek, and steps away to retrieve a bottle and glasses.

Or maybe one single glass, they are more than close enough to share.

[mechanicalswans]

He certainly doesn't mind sharing.

There's plenty for both of them, after all.

He takes his jacket off and hangs it up on the coat rack. "I think later, we should have some cheese and fruit, maybe some crackers."

[7twistedwishes]

"It sounds delicious, and perfectly enjoyable." She rejoins Weyland and they can move out into the porch.

[mechanicalswans]

He takes a seat in the porch swing, once they get out there, and glances around as he settles in.

"Everything here seems to be perfectly enjoyable," he says.

[7twistedwishes]

"Being here with you, is what makes everything enjoyable to me, Weyland." She will open the bottle, fill the glass, then lean to him. "Just you and me and ourselves."

[mechanicalswans]

He takes the glass and has a small sip.

"Well, and a lot of wildlife. Both to observe and to hunt, when we so choose..."

[7twistedwishes]

"Hmm, I like hunting, actually." The Devil takes a sip of cognac, and offers the glass to Weyland. "Or rather, I enjoy the stalking, the chase..."

"The kill at the end is just that, the end. What leads to it, yes, that is what I enjoy the most."

[mechanicalswans]

"I like the challenge," he says, taking the glass again. "I never hunt with guns--it seems to take all the danger away. Makes it too easy. I don't like anything too easy."

[7twistedwishes]

"So shall I have some woad ready, a pair of sharp spears and good knives? We can dance around the bonfire into a good near-frenzy, and run down wildlife in their own game?" Death and survival.

[mechanicalswans]

"That sounds beautiful. I'll take just a knife; I like the challenge."

Mmm. He takes another sip.

"And the fire is essential."

[7twistedwishes]

"Fire is always essential... by being there, or not." The Devil smirks, moving her lips up to tease Weyland's neck. "So strong..."

[mechanicalswans]

"You must come to my forge sometime," he murmurs, closing his eyes, "in the land of fire. A good fire to keep the frost at bay no matter how cold the rest of the world may be..."

Or her world. He isn't sure whether even the primal fire of his world could thaw the ice in hers, but it might make her warm for a while.

[7twistedwishes]

She was bound there by a cruel god, who made her into the agent of his will.

To test humanity, her fire was taken away.

To temper their souls. To burn the wicked. "I should..." It has been so long, she forgot how to have hope, and hopes only for the day of her undoing.

[mechanicalswans]

"It will be beautiful."

He thinks of her in her world, in the ice.

And it reminds him of the frozen lands of his own world...

Memories that come back to him whether he wants them to or not.

"As will our time here. You've thought of everything, my star."

[7twistedwishes]

"Everything? I dreamed of it. Of simple but complete things." The Devil curls up closer, losing herself in his presence. "I wanted to make it perfect for you."

[mechanicalswans]

"Your being here makes it perfect enough," he says, and sets the glass down on the porch railing.

There's only one thing he could think of that might make it more perfect, but he pushes that out of his mind. He doesn't want to ruin this.

[7twistedwishes]

Good, because she is right now as content and relaxed as The Devil can be.

Oh, it is all fated to a horrible doom sometime, but hopefully, that time is not very near.

Right now, for these fleeting moments, Lucifer is happy, genuinely happy.

[mechanicalswans]

He understands probably as well as she does how in the end, nothing will turn out well.

Nothing ever has.

But life is change, and without the bad times the good times wouldn't mean anything.