His mind is moving so fast that, in comparison, all the world around him feels like it's in slow motion. He finds himself seated on the sofa, his hand in hers, still clawing his way back up to the surface of this emotional tidal wave.
"I want it," he says emphatically. He doesn't want his current state of shock to give her the wrong idea about that.
"Yes, it makes sense. Forgive me, River. I've... I'd convinced myself it wasn't possible. I told myself that raising my sister's spawn would be the closest I ever came. You may have to do the talking. I barely know where to begin."
She strokes the back of Erik's hand, her heart fluttering at his assertion that he does want this, that he's wanted it for a long time. Wren's love...she'd been scared that maybe he wouldn't...
"I've been in written correspondence with Celestine," River murmurs. "That's where I'm getting this information. Right now, children between us are impossible, hence uh. Hence the front door opening up. But Celestine...my friend says what you need is the 'spark of life', and that she and her sisters are willing to provide. And I had to come tell you, y'know?"
"The goddesses would really do that for me? For us?" Perhaps he really should stop avoiding them and the temple.
Some small voice in the back of his mind is asking when the hell River wrote that letter, but he's too overwhelmed with all of this to pay it much attention.
"I'm not entirely certain! But it's exciting, isn't it?" She leans in a little closer, a little playful. "Celestine'll take letters, you know. If you want to ask. Leave it on her altar or burn it in your hearth, and wait. Or just wait a little further, she said she'll be around for her holiday later on in fall. Surely, my lord, a personal meeting wouldn't be too frightening?"
"I'm not...not scared, myself. I dunno what that means for our potential kids, y'know? Half-elves? Dhampir? A new thing I've never even heard of? But...I'm ready to take what comes. They're gonna be la Croix, the whole family is freaks and necromancers already, they'll be in good company."
"I can't help but worry about the unknown." Including worry about her, and what carrying children from him might do to her. But the goddesses wouldn't suggest such a thing if it would be her doom. A friend wouldn't do that.
"They will be very well cared for. There is no doubt. They will be loved unconditionally."
He grips her hand in his now, and moves from off the couch to the floor, down on one knee. He looks up into her eyes with an expression of deep love and gratitude... and also a fair bit of anxiety.
"If the children will be la Croix, then I, too, would like to bear that name. River, will you marry me and bestow your family name upon me?"
"I - are you sure? What about...Chris, or...I - I mean -"
So, Erik. You've been a Lord, and a whore. Both professions should have given you experience with someone who clearly wants to just say yes but is having a brief crisis of conscience, yes?
He chuckles and lifts off his knees enough to brush a kiss against her cheek.
"I'm not suggesting we cut Chris out of things in any way. So long as neither you nor they have a problem with being part of an open marriage."
He's been with her long enough to read the signs, even without his years of experience. He settles beside her on the sofa again, still gripping her hand.
"I'd like to keep my title, but the name Osborne has no greater meaning to me. Yours does. Say yes, River, please? We'll attend to the details as they come."
Her first answer is a fierce kiss, pulling Erik tight to her body; her teeth bite his lip, her breathing is hard, her heart pounding. She comes away red in the face, her ears flat against her head with sheer emotion.
Positive stress is, after all, still stress.
"Welcome to the family, Lord la Croix," she whispers, tears standing out in the corners of her eyes. "Yes, absolutely yes!"
He revels in the heat of her mouth, and her body so tight against his. He craves it, and he's certain he always will. His arms wrap around her as a hungry growl lifts from his throat at the sensation of her teeth in his lip. He could listen to the sound of her heart pounding for an eternity. He intends to. For as long as they live.
"That has a lovely ring to it," he whispers back into her ear. "Thank you, my beloved, for making it possible for me to have a family."
"We have so much research to do now," River murmurs to him, stopping to nip at Erik's ear. "Local marriage laws, wedding traditions, we gotta figure out...I mean, my people do torcs as signs of marriage but that'd make casual feeding at least a little annoying for you."
Not that River minds being bitten on the inner thigh, but the wrist is a no-go thanks to her sigils and putting an obstacle on her neck...
The nip of her teeth tempts him to stop talking in favor of other activities but... the words of River's visiting sister float into his mind then.
"When you say your people, do you mean your birth family, River? Is that a tradition they have?" He's not too worried about the obstacle. It's no worse than a necktie, and with neckties, he has to be careful about stains.
"The closest equivalent I have is exchanging wedding rings."
"...What is it with pale humans specifically and wedding rings..." She grins, a little shyly, and clears her throat. "It's uh, shared, in a sense? The elves in Greenwald kinda ended up passing torcs on as a tradition to the humans there, but according to Robert our family had a similar tradition goin' all the way back to the deserts from which we originally hailed. Still, the styles are pretty different..."
"Different how? I have heard of torcs, but the ones I am familiar with are thin metal, and lay against the collar bones. I take it the ones you mean are not so?"
He steeples his hands together in front of him, his brow furrowed in concern. It isn't the potential inconvenience that gives him trepidation, though he will find that annoying too. There's something else about it that sits not quite right for him.
"River, in vampire culture, human servants wear a collar from their Master in public settings to indicated they are... owned."
River droops. Her disappointment could not be less hidden. She understands where Erik is coming from here, but to have that taste of home teased and then snatched away...it wrings her heart.
"I um. I don't suppose the bit where I'm not human fixes that at all?" A half-hearted half-a-joke. She suspects it won't.
It breaks his heart to see the way she droops but he could not, in good conscience, keep this fact from her. She knows him too well. She would know by his reactions to seeing it that something has been left unsaid.
"Not... entirely."
This, he tells himself, will be one of just many cultural differences they are going to have to navigate if they are serious. It's only the beginning.
"I don't want to take something important from you. And this is important. But I need you to know in case I... react a certain way. I never liked that custom in vampire culture. I was forced to wear a collar, myself, when I was still human. It made me feel sick every time I asked Max to put his on. I don't know how easily I can put such emotions aside, even though I know it does not mean the same thing. For you, I would try."
"It's not worth making you feel like that," River asserts, quietly. "...But maybe worth trying low-stakes? Like. It's not a collar, it really isn't, I...no, I'm reaching." Her eyes flick away. "...I don't wear earrings, you know? My people have a history with fucking slavers, and they clip our ears and put rings in them because we used to do that to our exiles. I. No, I get it..."
Warm fingers trace Erik's neck. "That's certainly a thought," she murmurs. "Iron for the chain, I think, gold and silver for the pendants...what brings your thoughts there though, love?"
"They hang from the neck," he says, feeling a little like that's too simple of an answer. "It would favor that side of your tradition over a ring on a finger."
He turns his face to her, a rare and sheepish kind of smile on his lips, "And if it were a locket, I could carry a picture of you close to my unbeating heart."
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"I want it," he says emphatically. He doesn't want his current state of shock to give her the wrong idea about that.
"Yes, it makes sense. Forgive me, River. I've... I'd convinced myself it wasn't possible. I told myself that raising my sister's spawn would be the closest I ever came. You may have to do the talking. I barely know where to begin."
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"I've been in written correspondence with Celestine," River murmurs. "That's where I'm getting this information. Right now, children between us are impossible, hence uh. Hence the front door opening up. But Celestine...my friend says what you need is the 'spark of life', and that she and her sisters are willing to provide. And I had to come tell you, y'know?"
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Some small voice in the back of his mind is asking when the hell River wrote that letter, but he's too overwhelmed with all of this to pay it much attention.
"A spark of life? What does that mean?"
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"I think meeting her in person to give her my thanks is the very least I could do."
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"They will be very well cared for. There is no doubt. They will be loved unconditionally."
He grips her hand in his now, and moves from off the couch to the floor, down on one knee. He looks up into her eyes with an expression of deep love and gratitude... and also a fair bit of anxiety.
"If the children will be la Croix, then I, too, would like to bear that name. River, will you marry me and bestow your family name upon me?"
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So, Erik. You've been a Lord, and a whore. Both professions should have given you experience with someone who clearly wants to just say yes but is having a brief crisis of conscience, yes?
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"I'm not suggesting we cut Chris out of things in any way. So long as neither you nor they have a problem with being part of an open marriage."
He's been with her long enough to read the signs, even without his years of experience. He settles beside her on the sofa again, still gripping her hand.
"I'd like to keep my title, but the name Osborne has no greater meaning to me. Yours does. Say yes, River, please? We'll attend to the details as they come."
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Positive stress is, after all, still stress.
"Welcome to the family, Lord la Croix," she whispers, tears standing out in the corners of her eyes. "Yes, absolutely yes!"
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"That has a lovely ring to it," he whispers back into her ear. "Thank you, my beloved, for making it possible for me to have a family."
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Not that River minds being bitten on the inner thigh, but the wrist is a no-go thanks to her sigils and putting an obstacle on her neck...
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"When you say your people, do you mean your birth family, River? Is that a tradition they have?" He's not too worried about the obstacle. It's no worse than a necktie, and with neckties, he has to be careful about stains.
"The closest equivalent I have is exchanging wedding rings."
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"Different how? I have heard of torcs, but the ones I am familiar with are thin metal, and lay against the collar bones. I take it the ones you mean are not so?"
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He steeples his hands together in front of him, his brow furrowed in concern. It isn't the potential inconvenience that gives him trepidation, though he will find that annoying too. There's something else about it that sits not quite right for him.
"River, in vampire culture, human servants wear a collar from their Master in public settings to indicated they are... owned."
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River droops. Her disappointment could not be less hidden. She understands where Erik is coming from here, but to have that taste of home teased and then snatched away...it wrings her heart.
"I um. I don't suppose the bit where I'm not human fixes that at all?" A half-hearted half-a-joke. She suspects it won't.
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"Not... entirely."
This, he tells himself, will be one of just many cultural differences they are going to have to navigate if they are serious. It's only the beginning.
"I don't want to take something important from you. And this is important. But I need you to know in case I... react a certain way. I never liked that custom in vampire culture. I was forced to wear a collar, myself, when I was still human. It made me feel sick every time I asked Max to put his on. I don't know how easily I can put such emotions aside, even though I know it does not mean the same thing. For you, I would try."
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He leans closer to her, drawn to her warmth, ever a comfort for him. "What of a pendant? One for each of us? Perhaps specially crafted?"
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He turns his face to her, a rare and sheepish kind of smile on his lips, "And if it were a locket, I could carry a picture of you close to my unbeating heart."
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Either wrap or the logical extension of what's about to happen here
FTB on this one, wrap!