Date:         Mon, 11 Jul 1994 12:09:46 EST
Subject:      Fluff: Healing The Healer, Part I of VIII

A note of explanation from the authors: this fluff takes place
immediately after Nicholas asks Pandora to be handfasted to him, in
other words the time is mid April, after Mage Fluff but before the
Handfasting fluff. It is a follow-up to a thread started in Mage Fluff and
interweaves with Pandora's fluff.

********

Healing the Healer, Part I of
Copyright 1994 by A. Fraser and L. M. Wallace
fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca, wallacel@ac.dal.ca
*********

Kali's Amazon guards closed in on Michael, forcing him into the chains
that spreadeagled him against the sweating stone wall.  Iron chains,
biting his wrists and numbing his magic, sending little shockwaves of
pain through his body.

Nothing green grew in Hell.  There was nowhere his mind could go to
escape, no grove of trees nearby to take comfort in.

"Why are you here?" the grinning guard demanded.  "Speak, Druid.  We
have nice heated iron if the cold stuff won't make you talk."

Sweat ran into the Druid's eyes, and blood ran where they'd already hurt
him.  He knew he couldn't heal himself--even if his powers worked on his
own body, which they did not, he couldn't summon that much mana here in
Hell.  He called on his Goddess, but she did not come.

Kali heard his prayer, though.  "She cannot come here, Druid," said the
Dark Goddess of Hell.  "She has no power here."  She nodded to the eager
Amazon with the heated iron.

Michael screamed when the hot iron touched his flesh.  The pain went on
and on, eating his very soul.

He sat upright in bed, the sheets in a tangle and dripping with sweat.
His heart was pounding, his mouth drier than it had been in Hell.  He
gulped in great lungfuls of air as the familiar furnishings of the best
guest bedroom at Fairlawn reasserted themselves.  He'd taken to sleeping
in here so that his nightmares wouldn't disturb Mary or frighten the
children.

The bedroom door opened.  Mary stood, framed by the hall light.  She
looked tired, worried, and just a touch exasperated.  The weeks since
he'd come home had been hard on her, too.

"This has got to stop, Michael," Mary said.  "It's been over a month,
and the nightmares are getting worse, not better.  Aren't they?"

She saw him nod reluctantly.  She'd been so happy to have her husband
come home to her, but this was not her husband.  Michael had been
profoundly affected by his experience.  Not just the nightmares, although
those were bad enough.  His health was shattered; he wasn't eating
properly, he was exhausted all the time, he had mild pneumonia that the
antibiotics weren't helping, and his personality had changed.  He was
ill-tempered often now, scolding the twins for trivial things he would
have smiled at before, and generally making everyone as miserable as he
was.  Bess wasn't even speaking to him at the moment, since he'd told
her she couldn't go to a concert she'd had her heart set on.

And he had lost his faith.  He no longer called on the Goddess, or went
into the oak grove. The spark that had animated him seemed to have died,
or been very deeply banked.  This worried Mary most of all.  How could
Michael doubt his own existence?

"You have to talk to someone, get someone to help you," Mary said.
"Modern medicine's not doing anything for you.  Talk to Pandora.  She
offered to help."

"She and Nicholas are busy with their new house," Michael mumbled.

"If you don't ask her, I will.  Now please, have a shower, get dressed,
and come downstairs to breakfast."

That evening, Nicholas called to convey the joyous news that he and
Pandora were to be handfasted.  Mary took the call, assessed the
situation, and invited the obviously happy couple over for dinner the
next night.

Nicholas was glad to accept, realizing that he'd been neglecting his
friend just a trifle in his newfound happiness.  But had not Michael
assured him that he was fine, if a little tired, after his trip to Hell?
The night Nicholas had taken Pandora to meet the "family," Michael had
seemed quiet but happy.  So Nicholas had directed his energies and
thoughts into moving into the new house, loving Pandora, and adjusting
to the fact that he was no longer a roving bachelor.  There had been no
regrets at all when he'd hung up his notched belt--well, maybe on the
parts of one or two women--but Evan would be happy to take his place.
During high cycle, at least.

"What's so funny?" Pandora teased him, seeing him grin as he set down the
phone.

Nicholas laughed at the impossibility of explaining his train of
thought.  "We're invited to Fairlawn to dinner tomorrow night," he said.

Her eyes lit up.  "Oh, good," she smiled.  "It seems so long since we've
seen everyone, they'll start thinking we're avoiding them or something."

"Not avoiding them," said Nicholas, kneeling in front of her chair
and placing his head in her lap, "Just otherwise occupied."

"Well it's time we resurfaced again," laughed Pandora. "Now, we'll have to
dress nicely.  No jeans, Nicholas," she said teasingly, rumpling his hair.

"It's only Michael and Mary," he grumbled, but grinned as he urged her
out of the chair and onto the floor.

...

Still, when the time came, Nicholas slipped into dress pants and a silk shirt
to please her, and she thanked him with a kiss, nearly making them both
late for the promised dinner.  They arrived at Fairlawn a bit breathless and
rumpled.

"Mags is here, too," Nicholas observed, noticing his friend's sportscar
in the driveway.  "I should have thought to ask her."

"Well, Mary did," said Pandora practically.

A sulky looking Bess let them in.  "Hi," she said unenthusiastically.

"What's up, duckling?" Nicholas rumpled her short hair.

"Don't," she ducked out of his reach.  "Come on into the living room."

Nicholas and Pandora looked at each other in surprise.  Usually Bess
loved being teased.  They followed the girl to the living room. The Bard
stopped in his tracks, speechless with horror when he saw his
oldest friend.

Michael looked haggard.  He'd lost weight he could ill-afford, there
were marks under his eyes like bruises, his features were drawn and
pale, and his cat-green eyes were almost lifeless.  Nicholas heard
Pandora take a sharp breath.

"Dear Goddess," she whispered softly, "What's happened to him?"

Mary entered the room and broke into a smile, rushing forward
to hug Nicholas and Pandora.  Despite the display of happiness,
Pandora caught the weary look of desperation in her eyes and felt
her concern deepen.

"Congratulations, you two!" Mary exclaimed.  "I just can't believe
it--first the house and now this.  Pandora, whatever your secret is,
if you bottled and sold it you'd make millions!"

Nicholas laughed, putting his arm around Pandora and pulling her
close.  "Yes, but I think it would have to be classified as a 'lethal
weapon'," he teased, then quickly ducked as if she might hit him.

Pandora cast him a stern look but her eyes twinkled.  The twinkle
faded quickly, however, as she caught sight of Michael, still
sitting quietly in a chair, not having even gotten up to greet
them.  Nicholas made his way to his friend before she could move.

"Would anyone like a drink?" asked Mary.  "Some wine, perhaps?"

Nicholas and Maggie, who was sitting quietly on the sofa, nodded vaguely
in her direction.

"Let me help you," said Pandora softly, fixing Mary with a questioning
look before the woman could say no.

"Thank you, Pandora," Mary responded and led the way into the kitchen.

Mary headed straight for a drawer and rummaged through it, searching
for the corkscrew.  She stopped suddenly, leaning against the counter,
her shoulders heaving with silent sobs.

"Oh, Pandora," she gasped.  "I don't know what to do..."

Pandora approached Mary and gently touched her shoulder, speaking her
name softly.  The older woman turned around and gratefully entered Pandora's
embrace.  Pandora held her tightly and stroked her hair while she cried,
murmuring soothing words of comfort.

"He's not the man I married," Mary said between sobs.  "He's, he's
changed and he's so ill, Pandora, he's not getting any better!" Her
voice rose and then broke into a fresh spate of sobbing.

"Is there anything I can do?" asked Pandora.  "Perhaps I could
examine him later?"

"Oh yes," said Mary, pulling away and wiping the tears from her face.
"Thank you, Pandora.  Yes, I was hoping there might be something you
could do for him--the antibiotics don't seem to be helping, and I
don't know what else to do."

Mary proceeded to regale Pandora with details of Michael's prolonged
illness and his state of mind since his return while she bustled about
the kitchen, opening a bottle of wine.  The emotional release from crying
had strengthened her and she felt relieved now that Pandora was here
to help.

Pandora delivered the glasses of wine to a sombre looking group in
the living room and quickly excused herself to help Mary in the kitchen.
She frowned as Mary told her how Michael had been behaving and the effect
it was having on the family.

"Are the illness and fatigue causing this, or is there something else
wrong?" asked Pandora.

"Oh, Pandora, I wish I knew.  He's been having terrible nightmares, but he
won't tell me about them.   He hasn't visited the oak grove since his
return.  I think--I think he's questioning his faith," Mary responded,
the edge of emotion returning to her voice.

"His faith?" echoed Pandora.  She could not imagine the gentle Druid
going through a crisis of faith.  His spirituality ran so deep, indeed,
seemed the very foundation of his being.  There was also the question
of his immortality.

"But, his very existence--and Nicholas and Maggie, too.  How can he
question the reason they are still alive in the twentieth century?" asked
Pandora perplexed.

Mary shook her head.  "I don't know.  He seems to have rationalized
it somehow.  But he won't talk to me about it," she finished sadly.
******

Date:         Mon, 11 Jul 1994 18:17:32 -0300
From:         PANDORA 
Subject:      Fluff:  Healing the Healer, Part II of VIII

Healing the Healer, Part II of VIII

C. 1994 by A. Fraser and L. M. Wallace
fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca and wallacel@ac.dal.ca

*********

Nicholas stole a look at Maggie, who shook her head and mouthed, "I
don't know what's wrong," at him.  The twins were sitting very quietly
and looked very upset, Bess was visibly sulking, and even Ruddigore was
curled up into a ball in one corner.  He'd thumped his tail when Pandora
and Nicholas had come in, but hadn't greeted them.

"You look tired, Tadg," Nicholas tried.

"I am," Michael replied shortly.  "And call me Michael.  It's the twentieth
century, after all."

The Bard winced.  This was worse than he thought.  What was eating
Michael?  He suppressed an urge to go over and shake his old
friend--Michael looked much too frail and ill to be shaken.  Pandora had
better have a good look at him.

"Bess, dear," Maggie tried, "Have you thought about getting a summer
job?  You need to apply now if you want a good one."

"Can you get me one out of the State?" Bess glowered at her father.

"Don't even think about it!" Michael's voice whipped out harshly.

She went back to sulking.  Vivain tried to pat her knee, hating to see
her sister so unhappy, and Bess pushed away the little girl's hand.

"What a happy group," Maggie muttered.

...

Dinner was an awkward affair as silence prevailed.  Bess, still sulking,
merely pushed the food around on her plate.  When she was admonished
by her father for asking to leave the table she began crying and ran
to her room, anyway, slamming the door behind her.  Nicholas and Maggie
were stunned, having never before witnessed such a scene in the Fairlawn
household.  Pandora squirmed in her chair, suddenly wishing she were anywhere
else but there.  Mary looked embarrassed but remained quiet.  Michael
looked as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, but Pandora noted
that he wasn't eating much.

"So, Michael," said Nicholas, desperate to fill the silence, "I guess Mary
has told you the good news."  He took Pandora's hand in his and smiled
broadly.

"Good news?" asked Michael, looking blankly at Nicholas for a moment
before remembering.  "Oh, yes," he said, "Congratulations."

Nicholas paused, waiting for Michael to continue.  "That's it?
'Congratulations?'" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," Michael said.  "I'm sure you'll both be very happy."

Nicholas sat back in his chair, stunned.  He had expected something
more than just a lukewarm "congratulations."  Michael and he had
been friends for a very long time, centuries, even, and Nicholas was
not the sort who announced he was being handfasted every day.  In fact,
this was definitely a first.  But looking at Michael and noting the
weariness that seemed etched into his very bones, he realized that
the Archdruid was not very like himself this evening.

"Have you set a date?" asked Maggie brightly, shifting her worried glance
from Michael to Nicholas.

"June 21," answered Pandora.  "Midsummer Eve."

"Oh, how lovely," responded Mary.  "Then we can have a dual celebration,
right Michael?" she continued, looking at her husband.

"Hmmm?" Michael responded, looking up from his plate.  Mary sighed inaudibly.

"We want to talk to you about the ceremony, Michael," Nicholas said.  "We
want it to be traditional, but simple."

"Ceremony?" asked Michael, looking blankly at Nicholas once again.  "Oh,
the handfasting ceremony.  I can't do it," he stated simply.

"Wha--what do you mean you can't do it?" asked Nicholas in surprise.  His
look was mirrored in the faces of the others as they all turned to
stare at Michael.

"Sorry, Nicholas, but you'll have to find someone else.  I can't do it,"
Michael responded in a tone meant to close the matter.

"Someone else?" said Nicholas, his voice getting louder.  "Right, so
we can just go to the yellow pages and look up 'Druids 'R' Us'?"  he quipped
sarcastically, then sat back in exasperation.  "There *is* no one else,
Michael, and even if there were, it wouldn't be the same."

"Well, get used to it," snapped Michael, dangerously close to losing
his temper.

"Well, I suppose I'm qualified," said Pandora, attempting a smile,
"Although it would probably be a first--performing one's own handfasting
ceremony."  She immediately regretted her words as the look Nicholas
shot her made her shiver.

Nicholas opened his mouth to speak but Michael raised his hand, effectively
silencing him.

"I have nothing further to say on the matter, Nicholas.  I wish you
and Pandora every happiness, but I will not perform the ceremony." With
that Michael stood and left the room.

While Nicholas sat, fuming, Pandora availed herself of the opportunity
to be alone with Michael.  The Druid turned abruptly as he heard
her approach; the look of contempt on his face making her falter in
her step.

"I won't change my mind about this, Pandora.  Leave it be," he said,
sharply.

Pandora winced as if she'd been slapped.  "I told Mary that I would
examine you, Michael," she said evenly, "I have no intention of trying
to change your mind about anything, I assure you."

Michael sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging, looking suddenly
fifteen years older than his physiological age.  "I don't know what
you can do, Pandora, but if it will make Mary happy..." he said
in resignation.

Pandora took his arm without a word and allowed him to lead her
to the guest bedroom where he had taken to sleeping.

"Take off your shirt, please, Michael," Pandora said in a crisp fashion
as soon as the door was closed.

"Well, you certainly don't waste any time, do you?" he laughed, the
first laugh Pandora had heard him utter that night.  "No wonder Nicholas
fell for you."

Pandora smiled, but concern made her heart heavy.  "Time is something
you may be playing against, Michael," she said softly as she sat down on the
bed beside him.  She placed her hands flat against his chest, noting
the scars on his torso.  "What happened to you on your trip, Michael?" she
whispered in horror, fingering one of the scars lightly.

"Torture," he said simply, closing his eyes as he felt the tingle of
energy on his skin from Pandora's touch.  For some reason it felt
stronger than he had ever before noticed, and realized that it was perhaps
because his own had dimmed so much.

Pandora continued to smooth her hands over his chest and then his back,
pausing for a few minutes to massage the knots of tension in his shoulders.
Michael uttered a low moan that was a mixture of pain and pleasure as she
worked the sore spots loose with her fingers.

"You may have missed your calling, my dear," Michael said, his muscles
straining to her nimble fingers.

"All in a day's work," she responded.  "Do you want to talk about it?"

Michael shook his head.  "Can't--it's too horrific."

"Mary tells me you're having bad nightmares.  Can you tell me about
them?" Pandora persisted.

Michael felt lulled into a sense of comfort and relaxation for the
first time since he had returned as Pandora's skilled hands massaged
and stroked his aching muscles and skin, the warm energy of her touch
working its way deep into his bones.  He could hold in the fear
no longer.

"The worst one is in Kali's dungeon," he said softly.

"Yes," Pandora responded, not understanding, but unwilling to ask
questions that might silence him.

"The one with The Amazon Warrior with the hot iron--" he broke off
shuddering and Pandora experienced an empathic flash of burning,
searing pain.  She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

"And Kali..." he said, trailing off again, staring at the floor.

"What about Kali, Michael?" urged Pandora.

"Kali--she told me that the Goddess could not come to me there."  He
turned to face her, his green eyes wide and shining with tears.  "Kali
said that She had no power there.  And when that hot iron touched
my flesh, I believed her," he finished, putting his head into his
hands.

"Oh, Michael," Pandora murmured, putting her arms around him and
holding him as the sobs racked his body.  For the second time
that night she found herself comforting a grief-stricken Fairlawn.

A knock at the door caused Michael to stiffen and pull away from
Pandora.  He hastily dashed the tears away from his face and grabbed
his shirt, keeping his back to the door as Mary popped her head in.

"Just wondering if you would be rejoining us for dessert," she said,
looking quizzically at Pandora.

"We'll be right there," said Pandora, smiling with reassurance, then
stood and turned to Michael.  Mary retreated and headed down the
hallway to Bess's room.

"Michael, I will make a salve that can help with the pneumonia.  I'll
also send over some tea blends that will help you relax and sleep
peacefully."

"Thank you, Pandora.  You go on ahead, I'll be there in a few minutes,"
Michael said, sniffing slightly, his back still turned.

Pandora made her way to the door, but before exiting the room she
hesitated.

"Michael?" she said.

"Yes," came his muffled reply.

"She lied."

"Who lied?" Michael asked.

"Kali.  She lied." With that, Pandora left the room and closed the
door behind her.

***********

Subject:      Fluff: Healing the Healer, pt III of VIII

Healing the Healer, Part III of
Copyright 1994 by A. Fraser and L. M. Wallace
fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca, wallacel@ac.dal.ca
*********

When Michael and Pandora went upstairs, those left behind at the table
sat in incredulous silence.  Nicholas was furious, his violet eyes
blazing with anger and pain.  Maggie looked stunned.  The twins,
sensitive to the emotions around them, started crying.  Mary hurried to
soothe the toddlers, offering them dessert before anyone else and
hugging them.  Everyone could see the strain in her eyes and on her face
as she cuddled Vivain and Galen in turn.

"It's almost as if he'd lost his faith," Maggie exclaimed.

"He has," Mary sighed, kissing her small daughter.  "At least, I think
he has.  He's rationalized it in his mind."  She saw the Bard give a
violent start.  "Please, Nicholas," she laid a hand on his arm, "Try not
to be angry with him.  I don't know what Michael suffered in Hell, he
won't talk about it.  But it must have been horrible."  She shuddered.
"All I want is my husband back and peace in my home again," she said.
"I really don't know how much more of this I can take."

"For your sake, then, Mary," Nicholas said, "I'll not show my anger to
Michael.  But he had better not tell Maggie and I our faith is
misplaced."

Maggie nodded, her red hair streaming around her face.  "I wish my magic
was of a less nebulous sort and that there was something I could do to help."
Her magic was subtle, of the sort that generally boosted the magicks of others
around her.

"If you think music would help..." Nicholas said, light dawning in his
eyes.

"It might."  Mary smiled at them both.  "Dear friends," she hugged them
each in turn.  "Watch the twins for me, and I'll call the others down
for dessert."

Vivain started crying again as her mother left the room.  Maggie, who
didn't have an ounce of maternal instinct, looked at the girl in dismay.
Nicholas managed to laugh and make a rabbit out of a napkin to amuse the
twins.

Having summoned Michael and Pandora down for dessert, Mary went down the
hall to Bess's room and knocked on the door.

"Dessert, honey?" she called out.  "Your father didn't mean to be cross
with you.  We need to be patient with him until he gets over his
illness.  Bess?"  There was no answer.  "Open the door, Bess, and come
down.  We have company, remember?"

Still no response.  Sighing, Mary let it be.  They'd always granted Bess
her privacy.  If the door was closed, then her parents would not open it
unless they smelled smoke, or heard screams for help, or it had been
more than two hours since Bess had closed the door and it wasn't bedtime
yet.

She met Michael in the hall, coming out of the guest bedroom.  He looked
like he'd been crying, too.  What a cheerful household this was!  But
perhaps he had needed that catharthis, for he looked almost happy.

"What's for dessert?" he asked, with the hint of his old smile.

"Almond cookies," said Mary in a voice calculated to carry to Bess's
room, "And pie."

Michael looked quizzical.  "I can hear you fine," he said.  "Nothing
wrong with my hearing."

"I'm trying to get Bess to come out."

"Let me try," Michael said.  He went down and knocked on his daughter's
door.  "Bess?  I'm sorry if I was mean to you.  I'm not myself these
days, pet.  Please come down and have some dessert with us."

Not a sound issued from the bedroom.  Michael frowned.  "Elizabeth!" he
said sternly.  "Come downstairs."  Still no sound.  Michael turned to
Mary, who was beginning to look worried.  "We've always kept our
promise," he said slowly.

"And we should now," said Mary firmly, taking her husband's arm (too
thin, oh, God), and leading him downstairs.

"No Bess?" asked Pandora.

"She won't come out," Michael bit his lip.  "I even apologized."  He sat
down and put his head in his hands.  "Have I been that awful?" he asked,
and read the truth in the eyes of his family and friends.  "I wish I
could call on the Goddess to help..." he murmured.

"How can you not?" Nicholas pressed.  "For Cerridwen's sake, Michael,
your faith is everything!  She made you immortal!  Explain that away."

The Archdruid sagged in his chair.  "I don't know what to believe
anymore," he said simply.

Neither Nicholas or Maggie had the heart to be angry with him.  Maggie
felt like her heart was breaking.  She was close to tears herself.
She'd never thought she'd see Michael like this, and she ached for him.

Pandora put her hand on Maggie's, and her other hand on Michael's arm.
"We'll work through this," she promised them all.  She looked at
Michael.  "If you'll let me."

He just shook his head and wouldn't return her glance.  He looked exhausted
again, as did Mary.  "Perhaps we should be going," she said quietly,
seeking Nicholas's eyes.  Nicholas nodded, a grim look on his face.

"Thank you for the lovely dinner, Mary," he said, rising from his chair
and leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek.

"We'll have you all over soon," piped in Pandora, forcing a smile.  "For
a housewarming and a--a...well, we'll see you soon," she said, casting
her eyes downward.  She and Nicholas had set out this evening with joy
in their hearts, happy to celebrate their recent betrothal with their
closest friends.  But now a pall was cast over the upcoming handfasting and
she didn't dare mention it.  "Take care of yourself, Michael," she
said, squeezing his shoulder gently.  "Remember, you just need to call..."
she trailed off.

"Thank you, Pandora," he said in a low voice, the very words seeming to
require a monumentous effort to say.

Maggie stood, too, to take her leave.  She kissed Michael and Mary
hastily and left the house behind Nicholas and Pandora.

...

Nicholas and Pandora drove home in silence, each lost in their own
thoughts.  Once in the house, Pandora headed directly for the kitchen
to prepare the healing salve for Michael, and the blends of herbs she
hoped would help give him some peace of mind and restful sleep.  She
wished there was some tea that could restore his faith, but knew that
no such magick elixir existed.  She recalled the time, oh so long
ago, when she herself had questioned her faith, although it was her own
worthiness she had queried, not the existence of the Goddess.  Then there
were the many years she had lived faithless, not knowing who she was
or where she had come from, stalking the night--she shook her head.  There
were still too many painful memories there; it was like probing a bad
tooth to recall them.

Nicholas paced restlessly about the living room, picking up magazines
and putting them down again.  He sat down to play the guitar once,
then uttered a sigh of exasperation and promptly took to pacing again.

Pandora, who could see his activity from the kitchen, was becoming irritated.
She was tired; her session with Michael had taken a lot out of her.

"For the Goddess's sake, Nicholas," she called to him in annoyance,
"I can't concentrate with you prowling around like that."

The Bard stopped in his tracks and turned to face her.  The kitchen was
open to the great room, separated by a breakfast counter and stools.  "Great
room" was their private joke.  The house was a one and a half story, but there
were only three rooms downstairs.  The kitchen lay to the right of the
back door at the end of which was a small powder room, situated under the
staircase.  The rest of the main floor was open, and gave the illusion
of a great deal of space.

He opened his mouth to make a retort but promptly shut it when he caught
the expression on her face and noticed how weary she looked.  "I'm going
for a walk," he announced instead, and promptly exited the back door,
closing it with a bang.

"Thank you," murmured Pandora to the now peaceful house.

...

Pandora looked up from the book she was reading as Nicholas re-entered
the house, more quietly than he had left.  She was curled up in a big
overstuffed arm chair, her hair still slightly damp from the bath she
had taken, and wearing only a silk kimono of teal-blue which Nicholas
had given her, because "it matched her eyes."

Nicholas's eyes lit up when he saw her and he strode across the room,
lifted her out of the chair, sat down and resettled her in his lap.

Pandora laughed, always amazed at the strength of his slender body.  Looks
could definitely be deceiving.

"I'm sorry, mo croidhe," he said, pulling her tight against him.

"Thank you," she said, smiling, and leaned her head against his shoulder.

They sat in silence, Nicholas stroking her hair and twining it around
his long fingers.

"Having you here," mused Nicholas finally, "I can't even begin to
question the existence of the Goddess or my faith."

Pandora nodded in understanding, knowing that he, too, was thinking
of the events of their lives, both mortal and immortal, that had seemed
to conspire to bring them together.  It was their "moira," and both
accepted it completely.  It was not that they had no choice about
being with one another--they had individually made their own decisions--
but they understood that there were forces beyond their own over which
they had little or no control.

"Perhaps I should have sat in Michael's lap tonight," she teased, nibbling
his ear.

"I don't know if either Mary or I would approve of that form of healing,"
he said in a stern voice, underlined with laughter, "Unless of course
you should choose to extend your skills to your future husband..."

"Oh, I might," she responded, a smile tugging at the corners of her
mouth while she tried to maintain a serious look.  "But he doesn't
seem to be around just now."

"Well, then, how about a strange man who just happened to wander into
your house?" he said, his irises beginning to deepen to a dark violet
as he caressed her leg through the silk fabric.

"Oooh--I like strange men," she said, huskily.

"Strange or no, this man is ready to express his thanks to the Goddess
for leading him into this lady's arms," he responded, untying the sash
of her robe.

"Blessed be," she murmured against his lips, as the kimono slipped down
from her shoulders.

The phone rang.  Nicholas groaned against Pandora's throat.  "Don't
answer it," he said, his voice thick with passion.  "It's probably
a wrong number."

"But it's late, Nicholas, it could be important," admonished Pandora,
although she groaned inwardly at the intrusion.  "And with Michael so
ill..."

"You're right," he said, sighing heavily, and eased her off his lap so he
could stand.  As he made his way to the phone, he cast a longing look over his
shoulder, catching a sumptuous eyeful before Pandora refastened her robe.

"Hello?" he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

...
Date:         Tue, 12 Jul 1994 11:33:10 -0300
From:         PANDORA 
Subject:      Fluff:  Healing the Healer, Part IV of VIII

Healing the Healer, Part IV of VIII

C. 1994 A. Fraser and L. M. Wallace
fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca and wallacel@ac.dal.ca

******

Maggie turned on her car's CD player and cranked the volume up to high
as she followed Nicholas and Pandora down the Cliff Road.  Damn, why
hadn't she stayed in England with Miles and Elizabeth?  As sticky as
that situation was, it wasn't as much of a mess as the scene at
Fairlawn.  She felt ashamed of herself at once for the thought as U2
pounded in her ears.  Michael was her oldest friend, and he needed her
support.  Mary needed it, too, maybe more than Michael did.  Maggie
sighed as she recalled the exhaustion in the eyes of both Fairlawns.

The handfasting was going to be horrible.  In a pinch, she could perform
it, although she hadn't wanted to say so with Nicholas looking so hurt
that Michael wouldn't do it.  It should be a time of happiness and
rejoicing -- a ceremony she knew she'd never participate in as a bride.
She choked back hysterical laughter at the thought of Miles floundering
through a traditional Druidic handfasting.  He'd be pretty shirty about
the whole thing.  Cerridwen only knew how long their relationship would
last, but Maggie was taking it one century at a time.

Thinking about Miles and listening to U2 put her in a better mood as she
beeped her horn at the Fletcherville turnoff and waved to Nicholas and
Pandora's car as it headed for their new house.  There was no doubt that
the situation at Fairlawn was grave, but there seemed to be little
Maggie could do besides offer emotional support.

Still, she felt tears rising as she pulled into her driveway.  If she
called Miles to talk to him about this, he'd be incredulous, and
probably sarcastic.  She didn't need that.  There was an almost full
bottle of Glenfiddich in the cupboard, Maggie knew--maybe she could just
get gloriously drunk.  Turn up at work tomorrow with a hangover and red
eyes.  It wouldn't be the first time.

Maybe she could call Gideon.  Tease him a bit, and fish for his advice.
The Baron had a pretty good head on his shoulders, because he never
allowed himself to become emotionally involved with other people's
troubles.  She wondered how he'd ever loosened up enough to get involved
with his _own_ life.

Maggie wiped away the incipient tears and got out of the car.  For the
first time, she looked in the back seat, frowning at the lumpy blanket.

"I don't remember putting that there," she said aloud.  "That doesn't
look like my blanket."

She pulled it off, or tried to.  It fought back.  Maggie yanked again,
feeling ridiculous to be engaged in a tug-of-war with a blanket in the
back seat of her car.  She won, by dint of muscles honed over the
centuries, and gained possession of the blanket and a surly looking
teenage girl with short brown hair.

"Elizabeth Fairlawn!" Maggie shouted in surprise.

Bess looked up.  "Uh, hi?" she tried feebly.

"What in the Goddess' name are playing at, Bess?" Maggie demanded.

"I'm running away from home," Bess replied.  "Can I stay with you?"

*****

Michael took the twins up to bed, and they responded eagerly to this
show of affection.  They did not make demands on their father, but were
happy just to have him tuck them in and kiss them goodnight.

"Looks like I'm going to have to tuck you in," said Mary to her
exhausted husband.

"What about Bess?" he asked, eyeing the still-closed door.  "It's been
two hours."

"I'll try again," Mary said.  "You go get ready, and I'll come and give
you a back rub."

"Like Pandora's?" he asked with a tired smile.

"I can try."  Mary went to Bess' door.  "Bess, it's two hours," she
called out, knocking.  "At least tell if you're okay."

Still no answer.  Mary frowned.  "Bess, that's enough," she said.  "Open
the door, please."

When there was no response, Mary sighed.  "I am coming in," she said.
"Hide whatever it is you don't want me to see."  She waited a couple of
minutes, and opened the door.

The untidy canopy bed was empty.  So was the student desk crammed with a
computer, a radio, papers and a couple of stuffed animals.  There was
non-one curled up reading in the big overstuffed chair, no-one draped on
the floor chatting on the phone.  Bess was not in her room.  She
couldn't be hiding under the bed--Mary knew for a fact that there wasn't
room with all the board games, jigsaw puzzles, empty chocolate boxes,
in-line skates, dirty clothes and heaven-knew-what teenage clutter under
there.

The bathroom?  Mary came out, and went two doors down the hall.  The
light was on in the bathroom, and the door was open.  No-one was in the
shower, in the tub, or on the throne.

Quite methodically, refusing to worry, Mary checked each of the rooms on
the second floor.  each was Bess-less.  Michael looked up when his wife
came into the guest room.

"How is she?" he asked.

"She's gone!" Mary broke down suddenly.  "I've looked everywhere, and
she's gone!"

Michael got up at once, went to his wife and put his arm around her.
"I'm sure she must be in the house," he said.  "Let's look downstairs."

Mary nodded, and waited until he put on a robe, then they went downstairs
and looked.  Ruddigore was in sole possession of the living-room, and he
was about to come upstairs to claim the rug in the twins' room.  The
kitchen was empty, so was the library.  In desperation, Michael even
opened up the Brotherhoods' meeting room.  No Bess.  The cellar was
equally forlorn.

Seeing the growing panic in Mary's eyes, Michael reached for the phone.
"Maybe she went home with Nicholas and Pandora," he said, "Or Maggie.
I'll give them a call."  He dialled the number of Meadowsweet Ridge.

As he waited, listening to the telephone ring three times, he wondered
suddenly if he were calling them at a bad time.  But then, what time
was good to call them when they were home alone?

"Hello?" came Nicholas's voice on the other end.  He sounded slightly
out of breath with just a touch of annoyance in his tone.  Michael
found himself smiling despite himself.

"Nicholas, it's Michael.  Am I interuppting anything?"

"Uh, you could say that...What's up?" Nicholas responded, studying Pandora as
she padded across the floor towards him.  He mouthed "It's Michael"
at her and a worried look came to her face.

"Bess is missing.  Did she come home with you?" asked Michael, panic
starting to creep into his voice.

"Bess?  No, we haven't seen her.  Just a sec..." Nicholas covered the
mouthpiece of the phone with his hand.  "Bess is gone," he said to
Pandora,  "Did you notice anything different in the car?"

Pandora's eyes widened with alarm.  "No," she answered, "But I'll go
look," she said and flew out of the house.  She came back moments later
shaking her head.

"No, Michael," Nicholas said into the phone.  "She didn't come home with
us.  Have you tried Maggie?"

"Just about to," Michael sighed.

"I'll be right there, Michael.  I'll help you look for her.  Is there
anywhere else she might have gone?" Nicholas asked.

"I don't know, Nicholas, I just don't know, Mary's frantic..." said Michael,
his voice cracking.

"Okay, hang in there, friend.  I'll see you soon."  Nicholas said and
hung up.

"I'm going out to Fairlawn, Pandora," he said, tucking his shirt into
his pants.

"I'll stay here in case she comes here or calls," said Pandora.  "What
about Maggie?"

"Michael's about to call her."  he responded then leaned forward to kiss her.
He stroked her cheek affectionately and sighed.  "I'll be home as soon as
I can," he said and kissed her again before heading out the door.

On the drive to Fairlawn, Nicholas pondered the events of the evening.
Michael losing his temper with Bess at the dinner table, Bess storming
out of the room.  The twins quiet and subdued.  Things were very wrong,
indeed, and he hoped they weren't about to get worse.  He felt his
anger at Michael rise again, but quickly tried to control it.  He didn't
know what had happened to him in this place they called "Hell," didn't
even know _where_ he had been, not having any concept of such a place.
But it had been very real, that much he knew.

Nicholas thought of Pandora and the joy he felt knowing that she would
be staying to share his life and that she had consented to be his wife.  He
had never believed that a woman existed with whom he would want to spend
all his days and nights with--and then she had appeared, a ghost from
the past, but very, very real.  He was afraid of losing her again, and
if he hadn't known it before, he had learned it the night she had
almost left without saying goodbye.  Nicholas knew this wasn't going
to be easy--living with someone else after having been alone for many,
many years--and there was still much about her that he didn't know.  He
had also had a hard time coming to terms with the vampiric side of her,
but it seemed to be something she had very much under control, especially
after her illness.  He knew that she was not fully a vampire, what they
called a "half-vampire," but he couldn't really understand what that meant.

But now his joy was dampened by this business with Michael.  He was deeply
hurt by Michael's rejection and he found himself wondering if they should
just call the handfasting off, at least until Michael came to his senses
again and they knew for sure that he would perform the ceremony.  But
would he come to his senses?  Nicholas banged his hand against the steering
wheel as he pulled into the driveway at Fairlawn.  He couldn't bear the
thought of hurting Pandora, although he knew she would understand.  No,
best to carry on with the plans, and he admitted to himself that he didn't
want to wait.

As he got out of the car a frantic looking Michael ran out of the house.

"I can't reach Maggie, Nicholas.  We've got to find Bess!"  he cried,
and jumped into the passenger seat.

...

Date:         Wed, 13 Jul 1994 12:20:10 EST
Subject:      Fluff: Healing the Healer, pt V of VIII

C. 1994 by A. Fraser and L.M. Wallace
fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca and wallacel.@ac.dal.ca
*******
Folks:  Writers can't work in a vaccuum.  Please, Pandora and I would
really like to hear some feedback on this fluff!  *sniff*
*********

Maggie blinked at Bess, wondering why on earth the girl would have
chosen her as an unlikely refuge.

"You can come in," Maggie said, "But you had better do some fast talking
as to why I shouldn't call your father stat to drag you home and ground
you for life."  She unlocked her door and ushered Bess inside.

"You saw how he was," Bess grumbled.  "He's mean.  He never used to be
like that."

Maggie sighed.  "Your father's very ill, Bess," she said.  "I don't like
the way he looks at all.  I hope Pandora can help him, and I'll do
whatever I can, because if he goes on like this much longer, he won't be
around to be mean to you."

Bess turned slightly pale.  "What are you talking about?" she demanded.
"Dad's immortal."

"Not if he's lost the zest for living, pet.  I don't mean to scare you,
but maybe you should give him a second chance, hm?"

The telephone started ringing.  Maggie looked at it, then at Bess.
"That is Michael," she stated quietly, able to sense it.  "Do you want
me to answer it?"

"Not yet, please," Bess begged.  "They'll only have just missed me, they
won't be really worried yet.  I just want somebody to talk to who isn't
family."

Maggie ignored the ringing phone.  "Okay," she said, "But if it rings
again, I'm answering it.  And if anybody comes to the house, I won't
hide you or lie for you."

"Fair enough," Bess said.  "Do you have anything to drink?"

Maggie sighed,t hinking of the scotch.  "Orange juice," she said firmly.
*****
Nicholas looked at the badly shaken Michael.  "We'll find her, Tadg," he
said, then remembered.  "Sorry, Michael."

"It's my fault," Michael said, tears running unheeded from his eyes.
"She ran away because of me.  I've almost destroyed everything I
love--my marriage, my family, my friends--please, I need to find my
little girl."

Reaching over to pat his friend's hand, Nicholas lost whatever anger
he'd built up.  "We will find her," he said again, "With the Goddess's
help."

There was no argument from the beaten Archdruid.  "Yes," he said softly.
"And when we find Bess, I need help finding something else I've lost."

"I'll help you anyway I can, Tadg.  So will Niamh.  I want my friend
back, just as Mary wants her husband, and Bess and the twins their
father."

Michael lapsed into silence, leaning his head back against the car seat,
the strain all too evident in his features.  He needed to be in bed,
with some of Pandora's tea in him and healing salve on him, sleeping
without pain and nightmares.  Nicholas drove to Valley Mansion, but the
inhabitants claimed no sightings of Bess.  They'd already been alerted
by Mary on the phone, and Alex was beside himself with concern.  Janine
looked a bit less shaken, not because she didn't care, but because she
kenw that a nearly seventeen-year-old teenage girl was not helpless.
Alex, who'd been a father himself, however briefly, was less
phlegmatic.

"She can't have gotten far," he said, "If she didn't take a car or hitch
a ride with anyone."

"We don't know whether or not she hid in Maggie's car," Michael said
tiredly.  "Maggie didn't answer the phone when I called."

"Maggie wouldn't hide Bess, would she?" Alex demanded.

"Sure, she would," Janine replied cheerfully.  "We women stick
together."

"Let's go look for Maggie," said Nicholas grimly.

They did stop at Oakwoods, where the alert had also sounded, but Bess
was not there and a house full of men was not a likely refuge for her.
Evan was all set to track the woods, but Michael knew his daughter would
never have gone into the trees alone at night; no matter how upset she
was.  She would not have turned to Ray Griffin for help, because she
didn't like the ex-sorcerer, but Nicholas stopped at the small bungalow
anyway.

"Nope," Ray said, "I haven't seen her.  Just two cars have gone past
down the road, yours and Maggie's."  He knew every vehicle the
Brotherhood drove.  "Do you want me to help look?"

"Can you locate her magically?" Michael asked.  "I could, if I was up to
strength, but the effort now might kill me."

Griffin looked at him critically.  "You have really run yourself down,"
he said.  "If there's anything I can do for you... but you asked about
Bess.  I'd need something of hers to trace her by, I'm afraid."

"If we don't find her at Maggie's, we'll be back," Michael promised.
"And thank you for your promise of help.  If there is something you can
do, I'll be in touch.  I think I'm going to need a lot of help coming
back."

"I know the feeling," Ray said, and Michael pressed his hand, knowing
that this young man had wanted to die so badly earlier in the year that
he'd walked into a snowbank wearing only jeans and a thin leather
jacket.

Nicholas and Michael returned to the former's car.  "No point in looking
at Francis' place," Nicholas said.

"Isn't there?"

they stopped.  Francis showed them the inside of his shack--full of
motorcycle parts and no possible hiding place for Bess.  He too offfered
to help in the search, and Michael felt touched by how this had drawn
the Brotherhood together.  They all loved Bess.

Michael didn't realize it, but they all loved him, too.
*****
Maggie brought out the orange juice and a tin of chocolate-covered
cookies, and she and Bess sat on the couch.

"So talk," Maggie grunted.  "they're going to turn up here sooner or
later, once they figured out I didn't answer the phone on purpose."

"I sometimes wonder if Dad and Mom still love me," said Bess bluntly.

Maggie stared at her.  "How can you even think that?"  she demanded.
She had no desire to have children herself, but she knew that to the
Fairlawns, the sun rose and set on their three kids.

"Because I'm adopted, and now they have the twins.  I'll bet Dad won't
tell Vivain she can't go to a concert."  She sniffed.

"Dad always liked you best," Maggie whined.

Bess looked at her.  She was fighting a giggle, and lost.  Once one
escaped her, there was no holding back, and she erupted into laughter,
spilling her orange juice.  Maggie didn't mind, because she too was
holwing by this point.  The release of tension was palpable.

"I have been acting like a silly kid, haven't I?" Bess asked when she
could talk.  "I don't really believe that Dad and Mom prefer the twins.
I'm just feeling sorry for myself because Dad's been so miserable.
Gosh, Mom must be frantic!  I'd better call home--if that's okay?"

"I've been waiting to hear you say that," Maggie smiled.

Bess picked up the phone and called home.
*****
Mary nearly fainted when she heard her daughter's voice, sounding
healthy and cheerful.  "Bess!" she exclaimed.  "Where are you?"

"With Maggie, Mom.  I'm fine.  I'm sorry I ran away."

"We'll talk about it when you get home," Mary said.  "What's important
is that you're safe.  Just stay put.  Your father is bound to look there
for you.  You are okay, aren't you?"

"Yes, MOm.  Maggie's been great."

Mary called Pandora to tell her the good news, then contacted the rest
of the Brotherhood, thanking them all for volunteering to look for her
daughter.  It was good to have friends.  The fact that those friends
were vampires, werewolves and witches made no difference.

Nicholas pulled his car up to the curb outside Maggie's house.  "We're
heere," he said softly to Michael, who had nodded off.

Michael woke with a start.  "So we are," he said, and got stiffly out of
the car.  Nicholas winced to see his friend moving so slowly, like an
old man.  Of course, Michael _was_ old, but his body normally looked and
behaved like the human equivalent of a healthy early forties.

Before the Archdruid finished climbing up the few steps, though, the
front door was flung open and Bess came running out.  Michael simply
opened his arms.

"Thank you, Maggie," he said to his friend.  "Bess. let's take you home
to your mother."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she sniffled.

Nicholas walked up the steps to talk to Maggie.  "Why didn't you answer
the phone?" he asked softly.

"Bess needed some time," Maggie replied.  "And maybe this is what
Michael needed, too--something to wake him up.  I'm sorry I worried
Mary.  But by the time WE were Bess' age, we were hiding in the hills,
conducting guerilla warefare against the Romans."

"Things are different now, Mags," said Nicholas wryly.

Michael gently released his daughter from his grip and looked up at his
two oldest friends.  "Thank you both," he said.  "I know now that I need
help, and I'm not too proud to ask for it."

"We'll do whatever we can, mo croidhe," Nicholas used the endearment for
the first time in many decades, because in these modern times, men who
called other men "my heart" were looked upon askance.  "The first thing
to do is get you home."

They stopped at Meadowsweet Ridge to pick up the teas and salve from
Pandora, and to have her hug and kiss Bess.  The teenager seemed
incredulous that not one person had yelled at her for running away.
Then Nicholas drove the two Fairlawns home to the anxious Mary.  There
was much kissing and hugging--and not a word of recrimination--in the
Fairlawn household.

Michael slept without nightmares that night.

Date:         Wed, 13 Jul 1994 13:46:10 -0300
From:         PANDORA 
Subject:      Fluff:  Healing the Healer, Part VI of VIII

Healing the Healer, Part VI of VIII

c. 1994  A. Fraser and L. M. Wallace
fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca and wallacel@ac.dal.ca

*****

Nicholas leaned against the doorframe, watching in amusement as Pandora
bustled about the kitchen, taking trays of food out of the refrigerator
and placing them on the counter.

"Wow!" he said, as she took the plastic wrap off of a plate of delicious
looking canapes.  "Did you make those?" he asked incredulously, reaching
forward to take one.

Pandora slapped his hand gently.  "Hands off until everyone arrives,"
she said laughing.  "Mary made these--I did those.." she said, pointing
to a tray of vegetables and dip.

Nicholas chuckled and reached forward to pull her into his arms.  "Well,
it's a start," he said, grinning broadly, his violet eyes twinkling
with merriment.

"I warned you I couldn't cook," Pandora responded, putting her arms
around his neck.  "Marriages have broken up over less..."

"Never," Nicholas said.  "Food's not that important--but you are," he
finished, pulling her closer and kissing her fully on the mouth.

"Ooooh!  Nick and Pandora are kissing!" rang out a childish voice.

Startled, the couple separated to find the Fairlawn family watching
them.  The twins were bouncing around and chanting "Nicholas and
Pandora up in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g."  Bess blushed prettily and looked
at the floor.

Michael winked and said, "So what else is new?"

Pandora was the first to move, flushing slightly, as she greeted the
first of the guests to arrive.

"Well come to our home," she said, hugging Mary, Bess and the twins.
She hesitated in front of Michael, but he extended his arms and embraced her
warmly.

It had been three weeks since the couple had dined at Fairlawn; the same
night that Bess had gone missing and her parents had spent a frantic
few hours searching for her.  Michael was still thin and easily
fatigued, but his health was improving slowly and he was starting to
be more like himself every day.  There was still a key component of his
personality missing, however, as he continued to struggle with spiritual
questions for which he could find no answers.

"Can I get you something to drink?" asked Pandora.  "Some May wine?"

"That sounds lovely, Pandora," responded Mary.

Pandora served up glasses of wine for the adults and juice for the twins.
"Bess, what would you like, dear?" she asked.  Bess looked at the bowl of
wine longingly and then at her parents.

Michael grinned.  "One glass, pet," he said and was rewarded by a bright
smile.

"It's not very strong," explained Pandora.

"Oh, but it's delicious, exclaimed Mary.

"Thank you.  It's an old family recipe," Pandora said, winking at
Nicholas.  He glanced up at her in surprise.

"Better keep the single men away from it then," he joked.  "But at
least it isn't Beltane..."

Maggie arrived then, and politely refused a glass of the popular wine
in preference to the Glenfiddich which she had brought.

After they had all sat down with their drinks, waiting for the rest
of the Brotherhood to arrive, Mary presented Pandora with a wrapped present.

"Oh, you shouldn't have," admonished Pandora, "We said no gifts."

"I know, but I couldn't resist," said Mary with a sly smile.

Pandora unwrapped the gift with Nicholas looking on from his perch on
the arm of her chair.  When she opened the box she began to laugh.

"What is it?" asked Maggie, leaning forward for a better look.

Pandora lifted the item from the box gingerly, holding it by the hook
meant for hanging, still laughing.  In her hand dangled a witch on
a broomstick.  "It's a kitchen witch!" she said, between chuckles.  "It's
supposed to help keep things from burning."

Nicholas grinned.  "Well, we can use all the magick we can get in that
area..."

"Thank you, Mary," said Pandora, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

Mary smiled and drew her husband close to her.  "I burned a few things,
too, when I started out," she said.

"Let me tell you about that apple pie..." Michael began, grinning
broadly, but luckily for his marriage, the Goldanias duo arrived just
then.

Janine kissed Pandora and Nicholas, while Alex contented himself with a
handshake.  But Pandora experienced again the Count's powerful and
disconcerting sexuality, and she saw Nicholas's face tighten briefly.
Both accepted a glass of wine and Alex managed to lower himself down to
the level of the twins, much to their delight.  They were normally
knee-cap view of the Count.  He was teaching them how to say the names
of animals in Romanian.  Janine shook her head in disbelief.

"I know he was a father with two small children," she said, "But why do
I have such a hard time believing it?"

Pandora felt the usual wrench of thinking of her own lost daughter
and Nicholas, noticing, put his arm around her.  "Peace, mo croidhe," he
breathed in ear.  "Perhaps we can adopt.  It worked splendidly for
Michael and Mary."  He pointed to Bess, who was acting very grown-up,
sitting on the edge of a chair and sipping her wine as if she were a
connoisseur.

Pandora's eyes lit up for a brief second at this suggestion, but the
hope quickly died.  "My mother the vampire," she murmured, and shook
her head.  "No, Nicholas, somehow I don't think it would work out."

A car horn sounded merrily outside, and a moment later, Mitch, Evan and
Joshua came laughing into the house.

"Where's Gideon?" Pandora's face fell momentarily.

"He says you have to invite him in," Joshua grinned at her, after giving
her a brief hug.

"Oh, the silly..." she laughed.

The short English Baron, as always immaculately dressed in a blue Saville
Row suit, bowed to Pandora.  "I must have an invitation to enter, my
dear," he said.

"I invited you on the phone," retorted Pandora.  "It seemed to work fine
for Alex and Janine."

"I prefer the traditional ways."

"Very well.  Baron Gideon Redoak, enter freely and of your own will," she
said gesturing gracefully with her arm.

He bowed again.  "Thank you, my dear."  And just barely flinched away
from her swat on time.

"Two to go," said Nicholas happily, surveying the crowd in the great
room.  He poured wine for Gideon and Joshua, Evan expressing a
preference for juice, while Mitch accepted a cold beer.  Evan was obviously
just hitting low cycle, and Mitch wasn't overly fond of wine.

"Francis, my kid brother," Pandora grinned, "And the sorcerer.  I
remember seeing him at the Yule party, but I haven't actually met him."

"There are some hurts even you can't heal, love," said Nicholas softly.
"Michael has tried, and I think Samantha and Peter worked a small
miracle up in Canada; but he's still ... well, you'll see."

Shortly, the missing twosome arrived in Ray's car.  Francis had even put
on clean, untorn jeans for the occasion.  He practically dragged in Ray
Griffin, introducing his friend to Pandora.

"Pandora, I'd like you to meet by friend, Ray Griffin, ex black-sorcerer.
Ray, this is my seester," Francis said, grinning, giving Pandora a big hug
and an ardent kiss on the lips.

Nicholas frowned, taking Francis by the arm.  "Leetle brother's looking
for trouble.  Hullo, Ray," Nicholas said before leading the young man away.

Pandora just laughed and shook her head.  Francis was enthusiastic, but
harmless.  "How do you do, Ray," she said, holding out her hand.  "It's
a pleasure to finally meet you."

"It is?" he asked, somewhat taken aback by her friendly greeting.  He knew
that Nicholas still didn't trust him and expected that the Bard would have
influenced her opinion of him.  He took her hand and shook it, looking
up in surprise as he felt the warm energy flow from her touch and course
through his hand and arm.  It was soothing, but somehow disconcerting at the
same time.  Ah yes, he remembered now that she was a healer.  But he had
thought her skills were limited to herbalism.

At the same time, Pandora flinched as a brief flash that held echoes of pain
shot up her arm.  Whatever this man had been through in his past, it certainly
wasn't pleasant, and the hardness of his features emphasized that fact.  The
sensation was short-lived, however, and she felt his hand warm to her touch.

Pandora's joyous laugh tinkled in Ray's ears.  "Of course it is...well come
to our home.  Would you like some wine?"

"Uh, thank you, yes." he responded, relaxing, and watched as she ladled
some wine from a bowl.

"It's May wine," she explained.

"It's good," he said, taking a sip.

"Thank you.  It's a tradition--I always made the May wine."

Ray looked at her curiously.  "Did you...do you celebrate Beltane?" he
asked.

"Why, yes.  Nicholas and I met on Beltane, so it's very special to us.
We had a, well, a private celebration last weekend," Pandora responded,
blushing slightly.

Ray studied her, intrigued.  He didn't know much about her, only a few
things that he had heard from Francis, and that was mostly just teenaged
hormones talking.  Now that he thought about it, though, she and Nick
_had_ hooked up pretty quickly at the Baron's Yule Party...unfortunately.
Nicholas always had the luck when it came to women.  Of course, it didn't
look like the Bard would be roving too much anymore, if at all; he knew
_he_ certainly wouldn't.  And they were to be handfasted now.  Interesting
how quickly things can change, Ray thought to himself.

"I didn't know that," he said.  "You two met before...before..."

"Before I became a vampire?" she finished for him.  "Yes, a very long
time ago.  When I was mortal..." Pandora broke off.  "It's a long, strange
story," she said.

"Whose isn't?" he laughed, gesturing around the room.

"You have a point there," Pandora responded, laughing in kind. "But come,
let's join the others," she said and led him into the circle of friends.

...

Date:         Thu, 14 Jul 1994 07:45:37 -0300
From:         PANDORA 
Subject:      Fluff:  Healing the Healer, Part VII of VIII

Healing the Healer, Part VII of VIII

c. 1994  A. Fraser and L. M. Wallace
fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca and wallacel@ac.dal.ca

*******

The party was in full swing.  Nicholas was playing guitar, while others
sang along.  Wine, beer and scotch flowed, and the twins chased each other
around the great room, shouting and giggling.  Mary tried to calm them down
now and then, but they were bundles of energy that couldn't be stopped.

Michael had stepped out into the cool night air, and stood at the path
to the beach, staring out over the ocean.

"One of my favourite pastimes, too," whispered Pandora as she quietly
moved into place beside him.

Michael started slightly but smiled when he saw her.  "You certainly
walk about on cat's feet, don't you," he said.  "Yes," he sighed, looking
out towards the horizon again, "It's a lovely spot, Pandora."

"I love it," she said.  "I feel I've come home."

"You've done a lot already," Michael said, indicating the herb garden
that lay to the left of the back door, already filled with numerous
plants, only a few of which he could identify.

"We've been blessed with good weather," she responded, smiling. "Come, Tadg,
I'll give you the grand tour," Pandora continued, extending her hand.

The Druid hesitated for a moment, stiffening at the sound of his ancient
name, but then relaxed as he looked into Pandora's face which wore such
an open expression of happiness.  He nodded and put his hand in
hers, feeling briefly the warm tingle of electricity that marked her
as a healer.  It was a sensation he had come to know well over the
last few weeks, for which he was very thankful.

Pandora led him down the path and along the beach, picking carefully over
the smooth, wave-worn stones.  "This way," she said softly as they reached
what looked like an opening in the woods.  There was another pathway there,
although not as well used as the others.  Michael noticed a palpable
change in the air as they entered the forest, becoming warmer and slightly
humid, the smell of evergreen overpowering the salty tang of the sea.

He caught his breath as they entered a small clearing; a meadow, actually.
He saw wildflowers already in bloom and caught the elusive scent of sweet
violets and wild strawberry on the breeze.  The meadow was surrounded by pine
and spruce, but for a sparse stand of willow on the oceanside which afforded a
view of the sea.

"This is where Nicholas and I are to be handfasted," Pandora said quietly,
leading him forward towards the grove of willow.  He could smell the
freshly dug earth of the flower bed, shaped in a spiral, which already
contained a number of plants.  "And this is where the altar is to be,"
she continued, gesturing towards the bed.

"It's beautiful," Michael breathed, looking around him.  Despite
himself he could sense an inherent magick about the place, but perhaps
it emanated from Pandora, herself, who was fairly glowing with a serene
joy.

Pandora let go of his hand and sat down upon the ground, idly dipping
one hand into the soft loam and letting it drift through her fingers as,
with the other hand she patted the grass beside her, indicating Michael
to sit as well.  He did not protest and sat, sensing that she wanted
to speak.  She had tried to get him to talk about his adventure in
Hell and his crisis of faith during her visits, and he had talked about
it to an extent, but without revealing very much.  She had not pressed
him, nor had she badgered him about their religion nor tried to change his
mind about his refusal to perform their handfasting ceremony.  He respected
her for that quiet acceptance and was ready to listen to whatever she had to
say.  Michael found himself secretly hoping that she could somehow restore
his spirituality, but he didn't really believe she or anyone else could.

"This is my refuge," she began softly, still dipping her hand in the soil.
"Not the meadow itself, but gardening--digging in the earth, planting
seeds and plants, watching them grow, seeing the cycle of life, death and
rebirth on a microcosmic scale.  It grounds me..." Pandora looked up and
smiled and saw Michael smile at her unintentional pun.  "Here, feel," she
said, taking his hand in hers and plunging it into the soft ground.  It was
moist, and still warm from the day's sun.  She closed her hand over his so
that he held the earth in his palm.  He closed his eyes as the warmth crept
up his arm and spread through his whole body--Pandora's energy blending
with that of the Earth, and with his own.  It left him momentarily
breathless.

She sat up on her knees then, and reached for a transplant of pale pink
foxglove that was nearby, taking it and planting it into a hole she created
using only her hands. Michael watched her smooth, fluid movements as she
pressed the soil around the ball of roots.  In the darkness,  the skin of
her arms and shoulders shone an ivory white, but he couldn't tell where her
hands left off and the earth began.  She suddenly seemed indistinguishable
from that element, unified.  He opened his mouth, to say something about
her dress and grass stains, but he promptly shut it, knowing that it was
unimportant to her.

"This is what's it's all about, Tadg," she said, then, sitting back from
her work, and curling her legs gracefully beneath her.   "Not gardening,
no," she laughed, "but the Earth.  The land.  The land is sacred, and it
is connected to all things.  The lakes and wells, the stones--they are
sacred too, and give us entrance to the Otherworld--the world that we do
not always see, but which we know is there..." Pandora was looking at
him intently and Michael started to realize where she was headed.  He nodded
to indicate that he was listening.

"Cerrunnos, the Horned God, Cerridwen's consort; Bladud, Pan...the Gods
whom we honour along with the Goddess.  Gods of the Underworld. And
Cerridwen, Herself, Goddess of Transformation, Keeper of the Cauldron of the
Underworld.  What is the Underworld, Tadg?  It is the sacred site of energy
and growth--the locus of life's beginning and rebirth--the centre of the
spiral.  In the Cauldron, inspiration and divine knowledge are brewed.

Cerrunnos, Lord of Nature and of Beasts.  Is Nature to be feared, Tadg?  In
all its power and its majesty, its glory and its kinesis, are we not a part
of that glorious circle of energy?  This Hell you spoke of--it's lack of
green and of nature--its heat and its fire--is that not a source of energy
too from where life may spring, not be destroyed?  The volcano, with its
churning mass of liquid fire, is natural; yes, it can bring death, but it
also brings new life, new landforms.  It is fear, Tadg, fear that distorts and
twists.  Fear of things unknown, of things that "man" cannot control," Pandora
paused momentarily, struggling to herself control the anger that was
threatening to rise, her words touched with a bittnerness she could almost
taste.  "Fear of death..." she paused momentarily, collecting her thoughts.

Michael stared at her, hearing the passion in her voice, seeing her
moved by an emotion he had never seen her express so strongly before.  It
was always there--she carried it within her--but it normally ran deep beneath
the surface.

"Satan, Kali.." she continued, startling Michael out of his reverie.  "These
are symbols.  Kali, a Hindu goddess, whose name means "black."  Satan, the
archangel who fell from grace, portrayed with horns.  They represent power,
Tadg, and power can be perceived to be cruel; indeed, power _can_ be cruel in
human hands and minds.  The people you were with--those of the Kindred--they
believed in those symbols, in their capacity to hurt and wound.  When you felt
that hot iron touch your flesh, you believed, too.  Your spirit was broken.
But that does not mean that Cerridwen could not come to you, that she had no
power there.  I told you Kali lied, and she did.  This "Hell" was a
manifestation of the fears and beliefs of a powerful few.

We don't believe in Hell because we don't fear the Underworld, Tadg.
But the Goddess and the God do not choose to make our lives easy for us.
You know as well as I that one of the hardest lessons to teach is that
we cannot always know why certain events happen to us--hard things--things
that make us grieve.  But even as we grieve the dying, we rejoice in the
living and in the newly born and we know the dead are not truly gone."

Pandora paused then and took both of Michael's hands in her own.

"I cannot lead you down the path, Michael...Tadg.  I can only
lead you to it, and I hope that I have been able to do so.  You must
find your own way, my friend."  She leaned forward and kissed Michael
tenderly on the mouth.  "The Goddess always listens and always cares.
She is here with us now, in me and in you.  If, if..." she trailed off then,
looking down at their joined hands momentarily.

When Pandora looked back up she was smiling.  "I'd better go see if my house
is still standing," she said standing up.  When Michael moved as if
to stand also, she placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.  "Stay
here as long as you like," she said softly.  "The path is in sight,"
and with that she left the Druid to his own musings.

...

Pandora entered the house to find the party still going strong.  Nicholas
was still playing guitar, and Maggie and Francis were dancing a jig
around the room. Pandora grinned as she went into the kitchen to rinse the
dirt from her hands. Mary saw her enter and, not seeing Michael, quickly
went to ask Pandora about him, a worried look on her face.

"He's okay, Mary," Pandora said, smiling with reassurance.  "He's at the
meadow."

"Did you talk?" Mary asked hesitantly.

"Yes...I've done all I can now, Mary.  It's in Her hands now."

Pandora took the woman's arm in hers and together they rejoined the party.

"Pandora!  Pandora!" cried a little voice, as she felt two small arms encircle
her legs.  Smiling, she bent down to pick up Vivain, who was beginning to
look rather sleepy.

"Shall we sit down for a while, sweetie, and listen to Nicholas play?"

"Mmm hmmm.." murmured the little lass, rubbing her eyes.  Pandora found
the large rocking chair empty and sat down with her precious cargo.   Vivain
laid her head against Pandora's bosom and closed her eyes, as Pandora rocked
gently back and forth, savouring the sweet little-girl smell and the feel
of the child in her arms.

"If ever a woman was meant for motherhood, it's her," murmured Mary sadly
under her breath, as she watched the young woman rock her child to sleep.

...


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