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You’ve Got iMail
“Right then! Who will go first?”
Silence except for the tick-tock of the great time clock, but that was only expected with this taciturn group, exchanging glares and sitting with grace and dignity as befitting their (advanced) years. Two were dark-haired or wore dark clothing, and three were light. But all beautiful and youthful-looking, of course, frozen in time as they were. It made him feel plain and homely by comparison, and for a moment he reminisced wistfully of the AMFAD club he had started. Then again, he really was the odd duck of them all, can’t really be compared.
“Come now,” he said lightly, unsurprised. “The first step towards recovery is recognizing you have a problem. Which is exactly why you’re here.”
“I’m here because Emmett found out about this group on the Internet,” said a beautifully lithe, pale copper-haired member who looked seventeen (his record claimed him a little over a hundred) sourly. “He thought it was hilarious.”
“I’m here because my dear mother threatened to foil my plans for the Fold unless I went through with this,” said a dark-haired, dark-eyed man who looked nineteen (his record claimed him over five hundred), with cool, cutting disdain. “Nothing more.”
“Lucheni told me the Judge wanted to meet me here,” said Der Tod (his records state him ageless). He was blond with a lush black suit trimmed with blue velvet, arms folded across his chest. “And then locked me in.”
The Japanese lord, a dog demon in an exquisite mortal form of around nineteen, (his records state him as around two hundred years old) with silvery hair and violet eyes, bearing an elaborate kimono, was the only one standing. He said nothing, but his contemptuous air made his attitude clear.
“Now, now,” he said easily, not at all surprised by this. “If you are not sure if you should be here, there are simple ways to find out. Now, raise your hand if you are or have ever been immortal.”
A pause, obviously reluctant, but all hands were raised except the dog demon, who raised his fluffy tail.
“Good. Now raise your hand if you have or ever had magical powers.”
Again, all hands raised.
“Excellent,” he said. “Now, raise your hand if you are or have ever been in love with a mortal woman.”
As he expected, no hands (or tails) were raised.
“Well, now,” he breathed, scarcely suppressing his grin. “That is very interesting.”
“What does that mean?” asked the copper-haired immortal, Edward, sharply. “That only proves we are not in the right place.”
“On the contrary, Mr. Cullen. It means that you are.” And to their gaping, he stood up.
“Right,” he said, a little more briskly. “I’ll again repeat myself. This is a safe space of confidence, which means that what you have to say will not leave this room. In short, anything that happens in iMAIL, stays in iMAIL. We are all educated, respectable, immortal adults here. Shame is not only necessary, it’s beneath us, the pride of our illustrious persons, and all that. Come now, gentlemen. Good my lords. Shall we try again?”
There was again silence, but this time a musing one.
“Fine.” Edward, predictably, spoke abruptly. He rose, agitated. “I’ll go first.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cullen.”
Edward said nothing for several moments. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was frustrated, of course—he had made sure to tell the TARDIS to block his mind-reading abilities. The last thing he wanted was a one-hundred-year-old immortal discovering everything about him and the others.
“She was just an ordinary human girl,” he said finally, distantly. “Nothing special. Pretty in an ordinary way. She was a new student at the high school, recently moved to town. But the moment she entered that room full of children...” He clenched his fists, an echo of an old despair on his countenance. “Nothing else mattered but call of her blood.”
“So you’re a vampire.” The Darkling’s tone was cool, but he had raised his head sharply. “How novel.”
“So you longed for her death.” Der Tod nodded, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. “The problem, then...?”
“The problem is I have been dead a hundred and ten years old,” said Edward with growing, growling vehemence. “Feasting on nothing but the blood of humans I had deemed fit for consumption. Playing God with lives. True, I turned away from that life, the waste and iniquity. I went into hiding. I lived with human society with others of my kind, subsisting on animals. And now all my efforts, my hard-earned gain, would be undone by an insignificant human girl who would be dead by the century.”
“Funny, that, you keep saying ‘insignificant.’” He was irked despite himself; no human or creature was insignificant to him. “But it’s obvious she holds significance for you.”
Edward’s golden eyes glittered, as if in confirmation. “I returned to the school. I was determined to control my bloodlust, and find out more about this—my—cantante.” He hesitated. “I did not expect...”
“That she’d be so different.” The Darkling’s smirk had disappeared. His smooth voice was, for once, charged with an undercurrent of deep emotion. “That she would challenge you. Surprise you. Foil your plans.”
“That you would spare her her fate.” Der Tod spoke slowly, as if in reluctance. “And not just the once.”
Really, so dramatic, he thought as Edward stared at them and they stared at each other. The demon lord again said was silent.
“I kept a close eye on her,” Edward continued. “She is a magnet for trouble. A truck nearly killed her, some...scum wanted to rape her. It was all I could do to keep her alive, even though of all these dangers, I was the very worst.”
“A paltry comfort,” said the Darkling, but he eyed him speculatively, head cocking a little. “So you killed them all?”
“No.” His voice grew darker, an almost predatory bass. “I deeply wanted to, though. But I am more than my nature. I can overcome my base desires. I turned to human justice.”
“Pathetic,” scoffed the Darkling and they all look at him. “Use the Cut on them all and spare us the handwringing.”
“Not all of us can act with impunity, Darkling,” the youth retorted. “This isn’t feudal times.” (The demon lord gave an audible snort). “I cannot spill blood.”
“She’s your own,” said the Darkling, pitch eyes fiery like living coals. “You let otkazats’ya like that even near her, and what message does that send? That’s right. Weakness.”
“A wasted effort,” agreed Der Tod curtly. “Her final dance belongs to you. Why fight it?”
“Fate can change,” said Edward, hard. “The future can change. Alice isn’t always right.”
“She is your woman, wretch, own it.”
“Would you have your woman in harm’s way?” asked Edward quietly. “What if the greatest threat to her safety is yourself?”
The demon lord again scoffed. Der Tod laughed. But the Darkling said nothing, his fists clenching. On the walls shadows gathered, an aritificial darkness falling—only to meet an invisible barrier, crackling at the contact.
“No powers, if you please,” he said briskly. “I told you this was a safe place, in more than one respect. Not even our friendly neighborhood Death can kill.” (Der Tod stopped laughing and scowled).
The shadows settled, slinking back. The Darkling’s face settled into his usual impassive mask. He returned to his seat, draped carelessly.
“You know, I don’t think Edward is the only one with a soft spot,” he said lightly. “Darkling? Care to share?”
A flash of gray-black eyes proved he didn’t, thank you very much, but he knew silence was the most effective coaxer of secrets. Passion, burning like a carbuncles within ancient, lonely breasts, always will out. Sure enough, he didn’t have to wait long.
“I needed the Sun Summoner to expand the Fold,” he said, almost in a rush. “A mistake of my own monstrous creation. But it’s also a weapon, a key one to achieving peace for my kind. The Sun Summoner is the only one who could keep the volcra of the Fold at bay, enough for me to enter. I could then expand the Fold, push it towards any border. Then I’d take over the monarchy and rule Ravka.”
“And, what, the Sun Summoner didn’t like to be used?” Edward said sarcastically. “Or was he not as powerful as you supposed?”
“She was perfect,” he said in a low, ardent tone that had them all smirking except the stoic demon lord. “More than I had ever hoped for or even expected. Exquisite. Radiant.”
“Like a meteor streaking across an endless night sky.” Edward’s smirk had vanished.
The Darkling turned to him, sleet eyes intent on him. They shared a silent look of grudging, mutual understanding.
“Love,” he sighed, his two hearts both sinking and buoying at the rush of emotion, ignoring the two immortals as they whirled on him, choking on air. “It can be very transformative that way.”
“This is no love.” The Darkling rounded on him, eyes flashing a heated onyx. “Powerful she may be, she is still key to my plans. I don’t know why, then...how this could have occurred is beyond me—”
“Because you shouldn’t have been capable of it.” Der Tod sounded, for once, frustrated. “There is nothing within that could birth it.”
He got a nod in response. “It’s just lust, I suppose. Though even that I thought I was beyond such things.”
“Still a very human emotion, though, is it?” He looked around at the group, who looked suddenly uncomfortable. “Very interesting to feel for we long-lived old dogs, hmm? Would you all say that your loves or your object of affections make you feel...human? More...humane?”
More glares.
“Right,” he said, satisfied. “Let’s move on. My lord Der Tod? Lord Sesshomaru?”
He was looking at the demon lord, expecting him to speak next, would have sworn he would be next. He would be surprised by that.
“I don’t know how it happened, either.” Der Tod. He spoke in a cold, clipped voice all of them regardless understood.
“My ways are demolition,” he continued. “Destruction. It leaves me...cold. My office leaves little room for compassion. Everything and all belongs to me—the final dance always belongs to me. By all rights there should be nothing within to be enthralled by.” He paused. “But it’s true. I do love her.”
“And you took her,” said Edward in disgust, but also the only one to look at him squarely when a shiver of aversion passed through them all. “You took her as you took everyone she loved. And as you took me.”
“You still breathe,” said Der Tod, eyeing him dismissively.
“I am the walking dead,” he retorted. “I live a half-life, a cursed life.”
“Join the club.”
“I did. This is the club.” Then, pausing, as if unsure, Edward turned to him, and so did the rest. “Is it?”
“Well, the ‘i’ does stand for ‘Immortal,’ which I suppose can certainly be seen as a curse, but really, I prefer to look at it as a really long all-paid vacation you can’t ever leave, surrounded by constant death—” Right, that was too much. He was getting death glares again. “Sorry, sorry, moving on. So Your Majesty Death, what changed things for you?”
His eyes lowered. “Elisabeth.”
“Bennett?” he asked stupidly, and an image of a stern Mr. Darcy in a neatly trimmed coat with his arms folded across his chest popped up.
“Bavaria,” corrected Der Tod.
“The Empress of Austria?” Edward’s tone flattened in incredulity.
Der Tod turned his cold gaze to him. “Is there a problem?”
“Out of all the great influential mortals of the past, you fall in love with a depressed solipsistic empress with terrible taste in poetry?”
“As opposed to your Bella, who is the pith of sophistication and grace,” said Der Tod coolly and Edward clenched his fists. “I clearly could have chosen worse.”
“My Bella at least chose me over a full life, over another love that could give her that life,” he growled. “Which is more than I can say for your Elisabeth, Death. Married to another and resisted you till her last breath? A love story for the ages.”
“A powerless girl, an otkazat’sya empress,” said the Darkling dismissively. “Both are nothing. There is greater power the likes of which the two of you are ignorant.”
“And yet your precious Sun Summoner rejects this power, her grand destiny, all for the love of a boy who is not worth ten of her and would be mine in a few small decades anyway,” said Der Tod with soft, insinuating slyness. “To love such a creature...well, that may yet be the cruelest thing of fate—”
Shadows gathered, leaping from walls, sharp as knives, but Der Tod had grabbed the Darkling’s wrist, forcing his jaw to look at him. Edward was already beside the Darkling in an eyelash blink, venomous teeth inches from his throat. The demon lord had one svelte hand raised, long talons gleaming a dangerous green. They froze in a tableau, the tinny whirr of a blue sonic screwdriver breaking them from their stalemate.
“Na-ah-ah, no powers, I told you,” he sing-songed. “Especially not to harm.” They gaped as he pocketed his sonic screwdriver. “Look at you, at each other’s throats, literally, when you have so much in common. When you could all help one another.”
He got glares in response, but this time in frustration, confusion.
“Help,” deadpanned Der Tod.
“None of you are not alone in this,” he said kindly. “Why, I’ve been on this round more than once. Look at me, for instance. In love with a mortal, mortal in love with me? Psst, I’m a master of it. War criminal? Been there, done that, got the T-shirt and centuries of trauma.” He sobered. “So what you lot need is to think about this carefully. Now, one perfectly possible and obvious option would to leave your love, spare her your burden—”
“No.”
No doubt this was their collective intuitive response to his suggestion (with the exception of Edward, whose golden eyes visibly tightened in grim agreement, the beginnings of a mute despair), but for once they had not spoken. Everyone turned to the demon lord, who had finally stood.
“My lord Sesshomaru.” The toughest nut to crack, and finally he managed it. “Glad you’ve decided to join us.”
“All of you are pathetic.” His voice was as cool as cut glass, and as cutting. “This Sesshomaru is ashamed to be a part of such indignity.”
“There is no indignity in love, my lord,” he said as gently as he could—they were all highly dangerous, but he knew the dog demon lord had the prickliest sense of honor of them all. “Will you tell us why you’re here?”
But of course the dog demon did not reply. His face was smoothly impassive once more.
“Wonderful,” he said, sighing. “Fantastic.” He turned to the others, who looked on in confusion. “Our Lord Sesshomaru here had help from a young village girl at his most vulnerable, and in exchange allowed her to come along as part of his retinue.”
They blinked.
“What, like a servant?” Edward frowned.
“A soldier?” The Darkling.
“An angel?” Der Tod.
A pause. The response came to them all at once.
“Scum.” Edward was gazing at him with a focused kind of loathing. “Now that is monstrous.”
“Disgusting,” agreed the Darkling curtly, eyes flashing.
Even Der Tod snorted derisively, and here, he understood, he had to do damage control.
“Er, that is really not how it was at all—” But he was interrupted, by Sesshomaru of all people.
“She is sixteen now.” He did not speak at all loudly, but his words regardless seemed to fill the room, and they fell silent. His impassive expression rippled visibly. “I left her in the human village with my half-breed brother and his mate. I have visited often, but not as of late in three years. She is Rin and she is not Rin. She has said that she has chosen to travel with me once more.” He nodded, as if to himself. “She may do as she pleases. But this time she will not travel with me as she did when she was a child. And that is not acceptable to me.”
And still with that preternatural grace, he turned to him, violet eyes intent on him.
“I have journeyed long to seek a cure for this affliction,” he said, “which have led me to you. I know this to be my father’s madness, his weakness, which you must counsel me from or purge.” Or else was the unspoken, implicit threat.
Well, then, he thought as they all turned to him, with that same misplaced anger, frustration, and hope. In a way, it was flattering. He didn’t imagine that he, of all these immortals and Death, would be the wisest. Maybe that Darcy had the right idea of it when he appointed him to lead the session. He should have sent him a gift package.
“Is that what you all want?” he asked sadly. “A cure for the greatest thing that had happened to you?”
He looked around, and the glares he received were answer enough. “To all of you? Edward—” The copper-haired youth started “—the problem is that you do not accept your immortality and see it as a burden. But Bella does not. She doesn’t see you as a monster. She sees you for the best of what you are. You must learn to look from her perspective. Accept yourself as worthy as she must accept herself. Darkling—” The Darkling raised his head “— I know the pain of carrying the burden of your people’s suffering, how it can twist, deform you, drive you for both good and ill. But there is another path to peace, and your Alina is it. She has become more than a tool for you to control. Accept your love for her and only then will she accept her love for you. Death—” Der Tod shot him an exasperated look “—as much as you and Elisabeth are connected, she is more than just her longing for you. You must accept that she is not yet ready to be with you. You’re, er, Death, after all. But when the time comes, she will be.”
And as they struggled to respond to this, he turned to the great dog demon, the only one patiently waiting. “I’m sorry, my lord Sesshomaru, but I don’t think your affliction is an affliction, and therefore needs no cure. You have grown to care deeply for another apart from yourself, and now that care has become something more. Rin is grown up now, and is ready to become more than just your ward or pet. Will you put aside your prejudices and accept it?”
And in the deafening silence, Sesshomaru’s face contemplative, there was a knock on the door.
“Doctor?” A tall, handsome gentleman with curly dark hair and a pristine accent, after a courtesy knock at the door, had entered. “Are you nearly done? I need this room for my group.”
“Quite right, yes, we’re nearly done, Mr. Darcy, thank you,” he said, hurriedly picking up his files. “By the way, have you seen Kylo Ren? I thought it was decided he’d be with my group, but he didn’t show.”
Mr. Darcy seemed to suppress a deep sigh, giving a cough. “Yes, well, Ben is with me, I have decided to take him on. But I will not lie, his powers are an issue. I was thinking perhaps pairing him with another with power. But Mr. Snape refused the invitation on the grounds that he would not suffer couples in requited love. We’ll have to think of a satisfactory alternative, amenable to all parties. What do you think?”
Indeed they had to, he thought with a sigh as he heard the dark-haired Sith’s deep voice arguing heatedly along with a garrulous voice. Always the temperamental youth, but one would think older men like Mr. Rochester and Heathcliff would learn not to rise to the bait. Adding Snape into the mix would be a recipe for disaster. On the other hand...
“Well, I do have the Darkling,” he said after a moment, ignoring the Darkling turning a glare on him. “He and Ben have the most in common, I think. They should get along.” It’d take a boatload of alcohol, but they would get there.
“Very good, Doctor.” Mr. Darcy nodded. “I’ll wait outside.”
Shaking himself a little from his thoughts, he beckoned his group with all the command his nine hundred plus years afforded him.
“All right, men, MAIL needs the room,” he announced, and they formed a loose circle, “so next meeting will be on Monday, clear your calendar. But first, we’ll recite the group mantra. Repeat after me.”
Usually they would hold hands, but he knew he couldn’t push this, not this early in their meetings. But hopefully, when they would accept their place in this group, formed friendships, they would get to that point.
“I am in love with a mortal human girl. It is not wrong for me to love her. It is not weak of me to love her. This love is not a product of my monstrous deeds or urges. This love exists in despite of it. I accept my love and will go no further to deny it to myself or my wife.”
The last part was a bit much, admittedly, but to his pleasure no one protested, not even Der Tod or Sesshomaru, who definitely looked like this was beneath their dignity. A very good sign. Nevertheless, they do it, mumbling reluctance and all.
“Don’t forget, next meeting is Monday,” he said. “So clear your calendar, be nice to yourselves and your women, and, er, refrain from killing anyone unduly.”
Or each other, he thought as they filed out, eyeing each other warily. Ah, well. He should have known, all these overpowered immortals with dark powers in one room, and the MAIL men were no different. Their emotional struggle was daunting. He couldn’t help but think about their poor women in their thrall who loved them. Their group met every Thursday, so he heard. No doubt their discussions on the object of their devotion were as complex, tense, and fraught as the men’s.
“Not to be crude about it, but...” Bella Swan lifted a shoulder in a little half-shrug, lifting her wine glass. “It’s because he’s beautiful, powerful, and you just know he will be great in bed.”
“Absolutely,” said Rey, nodding too vigorously as they chinked their glasses together.
One of the newest recruits, Alina, stared down at her own glass guiltily. “He did lie to me about his past. He destroyed Novokribirsk.”
“And I saw Ben kill his father.” Rey shrugged. “But well. His uncle almost killed him. It’s complicated. What can you do? We have a connection.”
“My Death killed my daughter and my son,” said Elisabeth, but she chinked her glass with the others with a shrug. “Only made me want him more, honestly.”
“My Edward locked his first wife in the attic,” commented Jane, serenely refilling the cups of tea as they stared. “But after the fire, I supposed he had suffered enough. I heard him call out for me from afar, and I knew I had to come.”
“I heard my Edward’s voice too,” said Bella, wincing as an involuntary shudder passing through her. “It was a...bad time for me. But it was good to hear it.”
“So you two had tethers, too.” Alina, visibly cheering, finally let Jane refill her glass. “Glad I’m not the only one.”
“That is such a nice kimono, Rin,” commented Rey.
“Lord Sesshomaru gave it to me as a gift,” said the young sixteen-year-old, blushing. “I’d be with him always, if he’ll have me.”
“That’s good, Rin, but don’t let him know too soon,” their leader, Elizabeth Bennett, said briskly, taking up her own cup of tea, remembering her own darling Fitzwilliam. “You have to make him work for it. It is acceptable, ladies, to forgive your lover for war crimes or even callous remarks on your lack of beauty, but only so long as he is willing to make the effort to better his condition.”
“You are free,” said Elisabeth, nodding. “That is what is most important. A seabird plunging into the sea.”
“I am no bird,” said Jane, her soft voice carrying an undercurrent of steel, “no cage holds me.”
“I don’t want to be captive, either,” said Alina slowly, her fingers playing with the sleeves of her black kefta.
“To love is to be captive,” said Bella pointedly, but she shrugged, pouring herself another glass. “Our desires capture us, or else we wouldn’t even go there, right? More wine, Rey?”
“You have to ask?”
So nice, thought Elizabeth with a sigh, leaning back on her chaise as her fellow plain, ordinary, and yet astoundingly beautiful women chatted, to meet like-minded people for a change. Her people.