The room was dark of course, save for the starlight that filtered through the heavy clouds of Erinna.  Illiara was still awake, however, despite the lateness of the hour.  Her heart beat quick and heavy in her chest as she waited for the dreadful sounds she was sure would come this night.  Her brother had mentioned she was looking particularly pretty this afternoon when she and her sister were lounging in the garden.  Illumina had been near the pool, one leg in the water while the other was drawn up to her chest.  She had been cloud-gazing, and was wearing a pretty garland of flowers that Illiara had made for her.  Illumina had made a delicate necklace of crystal beading for her the day before, delicate pearls of liquid water held forever in stasis by strange magic that Illumina could never quite make do as she wished. Both girls had been wearing translucent white silk that barely covered their thighs, and neither had expected their bother - or anyone for that matter - to come to the long abandoned garden where their parents had been married a century and a half ago.  Illiara had been further away, picking wildflowers, and Illumina had not been aware of their brother's intrusion.  Illiara would not have been either if he had not stared for so long. Now she waited for him, waited for the stealthy footstep, the opening of her door, the near silent breath that would foreshadow the most desired and most terrible things that occurred when their parents were away. They'd been free of Brann's attentions for some time now; at least Illiara had been and she supposed the same was true of Illumina.  Their father had been home for an unexpected and extended stay for almost a year, an Erinn year if not quite an Imperial year, and while Lord Braedon was in residence neither girl feared the nights, though dark stairwells were still tricky.  For Illiara, the last year had been one of growth that she'd seen mirrored in her beloved sister; growth in power as well as in form.  She and Illiara had added more than an inch to their height and though each was still svelte in a way that only young girls could be, their bodies had begun to change into the softer, rounder shapes of women.  Often over the past months she'd caught men looking at her sister with greed in their hearts, not just the upper class and nobles that resided within Braedon's castle, but servants and soldiers, too.  When she followed their gazes, she understood for Illumina was very beautiful so she never said anything to her about them, but the way Brann looked at them scared Illiara for the heat in his eyes was of a kind that burned instead of warmed.  Now that Braedon had again left to join Mephesto's court, the twins would suffer more than their brother's gaze.  It was a knowledge that had Illiara shivering in her solitary bed, listening for the slightest noise as she gripped the silken sheets in tightly clenched fists. Her fear of her brother was great and as the residents of the castle settled for the evening and even the servants found their beds, it grew to monstrous proportions.  Near midnight and close to tears with the tension of waiting, Illiara slipped from her bed.  She was sure he would come, as sure as she was that the curse was little protection against him.  She only hoped he would wait a bit longer, for now that the servants had gone to bed maybe she could slip out of her chamber unnoticed and down the hall to Illumina's room.  They'd not shared a bed since they were very young and had separate rooms for several years, but Illiara believed in her heart that in her twin's bed she could pass the night in safety for surely he wouldn't accost them together. She was halfway across the room when his voice drifted from the wall opposite the window.  "Where are you going, darling Illiara?"  He was already in the room...had been in the room for some time, apparently, watching her, waiting for her to try to leave.  "Do you honestly think your older sister will keep me from you?  You are far too precious a thing to waste away alone on a dark night, and your sister does not love you as I do."  Slowly her eyes made him out, leaning against the wall, fingering a length of braided leather in his hands as he looked down at her. He was not fully dressed of course - on these nights he was always wearing black silk pants, his sleeping wear perhaps.  His broad, shining chest of moonlight skin shone now that she could see him, and his hair gleamed like polished ebony.  His sapphire dark eyes gleamed as he smiled slowly.  "Since you are awake, why don't you fetch me the necklace your dear, ignorant sister made for you?" It was early summer in Erinna's northern hemisphere.  Though the days were warm enough for splashing in the still waters that surrounded the palace or sometimes even the swift brooks that flowed through the forest, the nights were still cool enough that she had worn a simple gown of green that reached to mid calf.  The floor was cool beneath her bare feet, but not enough to be the reason she was frozen where she stood.  Her hands trembled, so she hid them, wrapping her arms around herself tightly.  She didn't want to get the necklace for him, she loved the pretty beads of water strung for her by Illumina and she didn't want Brann to destroy it....or worse.  "I don't have it anymore, brother."  It was true, she'd forgotten it by the pool in the secret garden, but she didn't tell him that.  His eyes flashed angrily, but he knew she would not lie.  Not directly to his face.  He moved slowly towards her and stroked the braided leather rod with his left hand.  "Then I suppose I will have to punish you for loosing your sister's gift."  But his eyes gave lie to the reason.  He was punishing her because he wanted to see her tremble, see her cry.  She could not win, not this battle.  She could only take comfort in the fact that her sister's gift would remain safely out of his hands and that her sister would not suffer its loss at his hands.   He looked down at her, close enough to touch, close enough that she could smell the strange scent of the liquors he'd imbibed only a short time ago.  "Lift your gown, Illiara.  Let's not tear your pretty green smock."  His derisive, hateful voice made her quiver, though not entirely from fear.  "Brann, please...."  Opaline eyes entreated with him, begged him to leave her alone, but she'd learned not to disobey him even by stalling.  Clutching the soft fabric in trembling fingers, she pulled it slowly upward, baring her knees and thighs to his hot gaze and the cooling breeze.  There she stopped, not daring to draw the dress farther up.  "Why do you hate us so, brother?" she whispered, her voice choked with her fright and anticipation. He flicked the braided leather down and swatted her white thigh hard enough to mar the perfect skin with a rapidly darkening stripe of red.  "Higher."  His gaze was not resting on the places between her legs, but higher up, where her budding breasts were.  The heat of his gaze was monstrous, and she could almost feel her body burning under his gaze.  Silent tears spilled down her cheeks and she trembled in fear of retaliation, but Illiara could not move to bring the dress higher.  If she were lucky he would only beat her, leaving a multitude of welts that would grow together as one, but she just could not bare herself to so hateful a gaze.  "Please Brann, I cannot."  Her tears were not only for the things she feared of her older brother, but for the things she longed for in him....things she couldn't not have and probably should not desire.  Once, she'd loved Brann as she loved Illumina, had seen in him her hero.  How it hurt to have her one-time hero harbor such loathing against her and Illumina.  Illumina had always been strong in the face of their brother's rejection, a strength that Illiara could only pretend.  "I won't Brann." He lashed each thigh, bared as it was, with the driver once more; then a fourth and fifth time.  "You will, you little harlot, because I say you will."  His face was a mask of fury at her resistance.  He brought the driver back across each leg again and then lifted it up.  "Must I mark your pretty face?  Show all the servants and staff how disobedient you are?"  She was lesser sidhe, her innate powers still minimal, and her body less resilient than true sidhe flesh.  It was possible she might actually carry a welt across her face through the morning.  He'd never given her the opportunity to find out.  But now, as she strove to be brave and strong, he threatened to expose her complicity as well as reveal to her twin the nighttime visitation he'd taken.  "Do you think they will doubt that you've been chaste even with the curse you so proudly wear like a shield against me?  Your sister might believe, but do you think the servants will believe that you did not take my flesh into your body, stain yourself with my love this night...or other nights, before the curse?  The curse wouldn't affect me if I'd already taken you the way you wanted me too...." Fair skin paled further as a flush stained Illiara’s cheeks with embarrassment. “That is a lie,” she hissed. The bunched skirt fell from suddenly nerveless fingers, the soft cloth stinging as it brushed her abused skin. Illiara was cutting the truth close, too close, but Brann’s words had hurt. The curse had been put in place while the twins had still been young, while Illiara was but a child with a child’s love, never before the curse had she been guilty of what he accused, but later…. That was Illiara’s real fear, the secret she desperately wanted to keep from her beloved sister, and to her shame it was Brann’s best weapon against her. A weapon stronger than her fear of his cruelty. "Ah, but it is only a lie if I say it so....I have no power over what the servants think. And they will think, long and hard, wondering what caused me to mark your pretty little cheeks...." He brushed the tip of the driver roughly along her cheek, turning her head with the leather tassels. "Lift....your...gown." His ingenuous coercion gave way to real fury, and he drew back the driver not merely up, but back; if he struck her with that he'd send her flying with his strength. He whispered softly, "Lift your skirt up all the way and you will not have to open your pretty mouth for me tonight." His dark sapphire eyes gleamed with unholy light, and his skin was starting to shine slightly. He wasn't merely angry with her - he was enjoying her resistance, as much as it angered him. He wanted her to give in and she'd see his flesh shine like moonlight in a cloudless sky. Illiara had taken a step back, fighting the urge to cower from the blow that threatened. Her hands were clenched in her gown to keep them down; raising them to ward off a strike might send her brother over that edge to make him hit her….he so hated to be thwarted. The caged moonlight within him confused and frightened her. He’d shone with her before. But once when he’d used her body, rubbing against her she’d thought for sure he’d chance the curse that night and take her - he’d been so very close. She’d felt the electric jarring of the spell pressing and prickling against her own skin, but had been helpless to move away. Then….then she wasn’t sure what had happened for it was a blur of images in her mind and what remained in the stairwell with her was not her brother. The creature was fanged, clawed, and horned and might have made a meal of her but for the sudden howling that had echoed around them, chasing it away. It was only later that she realized that the creature had been Brann, a cursed Brann. She didn’t want to know, was afraid to know what had caused him to run “Brann no….” Illiara took another step back, trying to put some distance between them, but Brann was larger and faster. “Please don’t do this.” His steps seemed to shadow hers as she moved and it was only as her back touched the solidness of a wall that she realized he’d not been chasing her, but herding her….like an animal….or prey. She had never had a chance at winning at his game, not this night or any others that had come before. It was so like him to prove it to her. The smile he wore was self-satisfied and cruel, taking pleasure in her fear and humiliation. She wanted to wipe that smile from him. “I hate you.” His eyes flared like stars sunk into a sea of deepest blue. His skin's glow flared and he struck her face with the driver, marking her cheek and slamming her head against the wall. He gasped and drew back a bit, his face contorted in agony as the spells tightened about them both, constricting flesh and bone and he rose up, terrifying, his power flooding the room like the ocean's swell. "LIFT IT!" His shout brought even more power flooding the room. Her skin seethed in the force of his magic, her frail, fragile lesser sidhe's body gripped by the terrifying power of his pure sidhe magic. He trembled, and his face was twisted into a grimace of hatred that made what had gone before seem tender, compassionate. He might not take her, as he'd almost done, but the curse would take effect if he struck her hard enough to injure as well.....her cheek stung painfully, fire under her soft skin. He trembled with desire and anger both, and his skin shone like moonbeams on water....how strange it should be he who was kin to water when it was her Asrai blood that made her so beautiful. She did hate him, she really did, but she loved him, too. He was her family, her brother, her once-upon-a-time prince and she loved him still. Enough that the unadulterated loathing he held for her broke her defiance and brought a fresh wash of tears. “Yes, brother.” Her movements were jerky as silent sobs racked her small body. She couldn’t look at him and kept her eyes lowered from his as she pulled clumsily at the cloth until it was bunched around her waist. He shook heavily and his voice came out in a slow, thick rumble. "Higher." He still trembled, his eyes sliding down her bared belly, her smooth body, vulnerable, naked, and marked already from his hate. His eyes moved up her body again, and the look of utter hatred in his eyes when he saw her face made him shout again. "HIGHER, CUNT!" He slashed the driver across her legs - much higher than she'd expected, marking her hip with the leather tool. He brought the short whip back and stung her other cheek, but it was with nowhere near the bruising force he'd struck her face the first time. Choking on the sobs that clogged her throat and with no recourse, Illiara had to give in to him. She did not fear the biting leather for it could do no lasting harm, but the hatred that ate at Branndwyn’s soul threatened to devour her, too. Higher the green cloth was pulled, but never high enough for her brother, never fast enough, as the stinging driver bit at her flesh again. “Brother, please….I’ll do as you bid.” Her pleas fell on deaf ears as in desperation she pulled the gown over her head and dropped it to the stone floor. Only her hair, hanging loose around her, and her hands shielded her nakedness from his fierce gaze. Branndwyn moved close, close enough that she could smell his liqueur sweetened breath as he leaned on the stone wall behind her. "Move your hands," he said softly, almost gently. The driver slowly slid along the outside of her thigh, to her hip, and back down. It was a tender, almost gentle caress that wanted to make her relent, to open her arms to him again. But she knew what would happen next. The parts of her that wanted to believe in his gentle, soft voice, the loving way the leather caressed her warred with the part of her mind that knew what he would do next was forbidden. The driver slid up along her side, and then touched her chin gently, bringing her eyes up to his. He smiled at her tear-streaked face, with the glowing red burns along pale cheeks, and murmured softly. "You are a beautiful creature...." He never called her woman and beautiful in the same breath. She was either a sweet girl, or a beautiful creature. It was demeaning, but it was a lovely thing to hear from the man whom she'd thought of as a paragon among sidhe warriors. Illiara closed her eyes, shamed at the reaction of her heart and body to his touch and words. She knew he only wanted to hurt her again, to see her open herself to loving him again so that he could break her heart. “Hit me, Brann,” she begged. She opened her eyes, staring deep into the dark sapphire of his as she pleaded with him. “I cannot bear your kindness for it is crueler in its brevity.” He could be kind, gentle even, with her, but eventually, minutes or weeks later, he would tear her heart from her and rip it to shreds with his words and hatred. Her hands dropped from her body and almost of their own accord they started to reach for him before she drew them back. He slowly slid the lather driver down her throat, across the smooth skin of her chest, lower still. He whispered to her softly. “You know I am right, and that is why you desire this....you want to be punished for being the half breed you are. Abomination of sidhe power and Asrai blood....a pretty little thing, of no more consequence than a goblin's mate." The driver slid over one nipple and teased it into hardness. The driver moved lower. "I can see it in your skin, your blood. You’re just a pretty little half blooded toy, only suitable for bedding or beating." His lips brushed her cheek as the driver slipped between her legs, caressed the warm wetness that had grown there as he'd whispered his cruelties. He slowly drew the weapon back and forth along her tender nether lips. "Do you know how I know you deserve to be beaten for your lesser fae blood?" He drew the driver from her nether lips and then swatted her upon her delicate, sensitive mons. Her jolted cry only made him smile. “I’ve seen you shine....not glow, for you have no glow, but your skin does shine prettily...." He swatted her soft nether lips again lightly. A soft cry escaped Illiara with each slap of the leather against her skin. Partly from the stinging leather, but mostly from the pleasure each touch of the driver brought. Brann’s deep voice was lyrical, alluring as he spoke; his hatred poured forth as a mesmerizing tickle against her ears. He would hurt her, would cause her physical pain that would be as nothing to the emotional pain to come, but the soothing tones of his voice belied that, making her want to believe him....to believe in him. “Pearls in starlight….” she whispered her agreement. It was how he’d described her shining skin once, on one of the few times that he’d been attentive to her need, if not gentle or kind. She’d never forgotten that because it was one of the few compliments he’d not followed with his poisonous wrath. He slid the driver between her soft petals, his gaze on her lithe body filled with a hate and greed that mingled so deeply it was no longer possible to separate the two. He lightly struck her soft places with the driver once more. "Turn around, and bend over, like a good girl," he coaxed gently. The driver caressed her wetness again, as his hand moved along one budding breast. His fingers squeezed her nipple painfully tight, before he tapped her soft nether places again. "Hurry." A lover would say hurry like that, before giving his beloved pleasure. Her body jerked as she gasped with pain from the pinch of his fingers. She gazed toward him for a moment and her mouth opened as if she would speak, but then closed again. She lowered her head, hiding from him the tears that began their course down already dampened cheeks before she turned to do as she had been told. She idly wondered what torture he would visit upon her body, but it mattered not. Already she mourned for the pain she would endure because she’d so wanted to believe he cared for her. She closed her eyes against the beauty of his moonstruck glow and said nothing as she leaned over; baring herself for whatever punishment he would give her. The driver ran slow gentle curves along the smooth, unblemished skin of her derrière as she bent over for him. Then his hand caressed her, cupped her, thumb sliding along the soft flesh of her mons, tracing the line of her sex lightly. The driver moved up, tickling her delicate, sensitive rosebud. His soft voice came to her, a cold, dark whisper. His touch burned her soft flesh, not with the power of his hand, but with the pure pleasure of glamour. "Yes, my sweet, darling sister. Be a good girl and shine for me." His fingers moved along her nether lips, parting them without entering her, moistening only his fingertips against her woman's flesh. Then the driver struck and with his hand's caress glamour made the pain living fire as he pleasured her. Her first cry was muted by the shock that stole her breath from her lungs. The second cry was louder, a shriek of pain and ecstasy that could not be contained as the leather bit into sensitive flesh once more. He would have warded the room for sound before or just after entering it, not wanting to be bothered with some servant alarmed by what might be heard inside the bedchamber of the daughter of the manse. She was certain he’d done this, but not sure enough to let herself scream unchecked. Pressing her hands over her mouth, she muffled her choking sobs of pain, pleasure and guilt as her brother sought his own release in her suffering. She burned at his touch, the magic heightening every sense, stringing every nerve taut until it sang with tension. Each precisely placed strike of leather rang loudly in her ears and the sting ripped through her body leaving behind red and swollen marks. She hurt, with the punishment and a need that she sought to deny and to her unending shame, her skin shone with a dull iridescence of pearls. He grunted softly, and the white milk of his seed spattered the enameled wall she rested against. His fingers traced her slick wetness a moment more as his moonlight glow engulfed her and his lash stuck the pleasure from his caresses with a final bolt of searing pain. He grunted once more and released her, without a parting strike or a last soothing caress. He leaned over her and she could feel his hard, silk covered member along her derrière, and his whisper was a cruel gentleness. "Do you know how I know you are not sidhe?" He stroked her inner thigh one last time, where her own juices had left her wet and sensitive. "Because a sidhe does not glow for things that are not pleasure, trollop." He laughed softly, and walked out of the room, laughing cruelly as he left her unfulfilled and burning with shame and pain.... The outer door of her room closed softly behind her brother, but Illiara jumped as if it had been slammed with force. She sank slowly to the floor, shock, pain and humiliation tearing at her mind with razor claws. She leaned against the wall, her hair a tangled mess of leaden locks and with her legs pulled close to her chest. Her arms hung limply at her sides, unable to even brush away the tears that streamed down her face. Illiara felt dirty, her own wetness feeling slimy between her legs as her guilt grew until it became an overbearing weight that held her immobile and sobbing loudly in the still and silent night. A soft voice came from the direction of her window. "'Li?" Crouched upon the ledge of her balcony, in the night, in the cold wind, Illumina was a white, ghostly thing, backlit by the sullen glow of moonlight trying to break through the thick cloud cover. Her pale luminescence was enough to see her by - dressed in a plain and translucent shift she must have been freezing. The soft whisper came again. "'Li?" The voice that broke through her pain was one she wanted most to hear… and least. She longed to have her twin hold her, to comfort her as only a sister could, but shame at her state was too strong. She stopped crying and sat up, but she was still sniffling and the tears had only retreated, not gone entirely. “Goway, ‘Lu,” she whispered past the lump of grief and shame that closed her throat. “Don’t look at me….” She started crying again and she tried to stop, only to cry even harder when she could not. A soft, gentle hand slowly traced her cheek. The tinge of pain was not as bad as the knowledge her sister was there, next to her, unavoidable and implacable as a force of nature. "'Li." The soft voice was firm and yet held everything her brother's voice had not. "'Li." She could not help but open her eyes. Illumina was there, crouched before her, softly luminescent in the dark room. Her eyes were glimmering like opaline fire, as she gazed at her sister. There was no pity, only sympathy, understanding, and the one thing she could find only in her sister. "Come with me, 'Li." Her firm, gentle voice and the soft caress to wipe away her tears were as one. "I found something to help us.” Illiara wanted a lot of things at that moment. She wanted a bath, wanted to wash away the touch of a man she dreaded and loved. She wanted her bed, to pull the covers over her head and hide from this night. She wanted a lot of things, but what she got was what she needed most. Not comfort, not forgetfulness, not even righteous anger, but hope. Somehow, some way, ‘Lu always offered exactly what she needed and this night was no exception. “L....let me get dressed.” Illiara’s lips pressed together in a hard line as she realized how her words might sound to her sister, but she offered no explanation or excuse. Illumina knew what she knew, as little or much as it was and she was still here, by her side, her only support. Pulling the discarded green gown over her head, she let her sister help her stand, wincing with the pain that accompanied each movement. “Show me, ‘Lu. And please, Goddess, let this be whatever you’re thinking it is.” She asked no questions, and offered nothing more than support when Illiara swayed unsteadily. There was no need for more. Not yet. There would be enough and more than enough when Illiara and she performed the ritual.... Illumina led her sister to her room, cautiously and carefully. It was only a short distance down the hall, but it was an immeasurable distance as well. Her training was so incomplete that she had little chance of using what she did know to spin webs of deception and carelessness. But if this worked, they would both have power, and to spare. She led her sister into her room and closed the door behind them as Illiara stared at the floor of Illumina’s room. A shining circle of pure white lay on the floor. Within it lay a bowl of water, and a dagger of shining silver. There was a jar of some rich golden oil, and the room smelled of incense and orchids. Only one small break in the circle of salt crystals kept the ring from being complete. It took a moment for Illiara’s spinning mind to settle on the meaning behind the symbols and tools of a ritual. When she did, she looked to her sister, her eyes wide with uncertainty. “Are you sure, ‘Lu?” At Illumina’s nod, she looked back to the circle of salt, studying it as if she understood the ritual behind it. She herself was horrible at ritual magic, unable to maintain the necessary restraint for it. Her realm was the wild magic that waited most everywhere in the universe, only needing to be touched by power to be used. It was her lack of understanding that made her fear the ritual, she’d seen so much go wrong in her few attempts at this form of magic. As she watched the circle, a cold wind, one abnormal for the soft summer that rested beyond the open window, blew across her skin and teased at the grains of salt. Her skin tightened and a prickling feeling teased her spine….reminding her of her fear as she’d waited for Brann to appear in her room earlier. That and her trust in her twin decided her. “Show me what to do,” she said as she walked closer to the broken circle. "Take off your gown, 'Li."  Unlike her brother's command, Illumina’s soft request had no note of command, or hate, but gentle affection.  She was already sliding her own off, baring her lovely white skin to her sister in full.  Her back was turned however, and Illiara could see that she too had received a visit from their brother.  Illumina's back was scored with half a dozen lash marks, and her thighs as well were covered in the red welts.  But the welts were not on the back or front like Illiara's; they were on the insides.  Her ankles were chafed and red, from cuffs, though there were no cuts; if there had been they'd healed.  She turned slowly and the slender girl glanced down, not shyly, but looking where her sister's eyes had looked. Her breasts were laced with red, and the nipples swollen and painfully erect.  Her stoic comment was merely, "He had to hang me up by my ankles.  I wouldn't spread my legs wide enough for him."  She walked to where her sister stood and ran her delicate fingers through the thick hair. Illiara had to fight hard to prevent herself from crying again, but the pain and guilt she felt from their brother’s assault was in her eyes for her sister to see. Her face reddened in the darkness as she slid the thin gown from her body without preamble or reluctance. She was ashamed of what had been done to both of them, but more so that she’d not fought Brann the way Illumina had. A few soft words, a façade of tenderness from him and she’d given in. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t a choice or that she’d have lost even if she had resisted. It was a shame she vowed to carry in secrecy for as long as she could. Illumina stood close, needing the same comfort she herself did, though surely uncomfortable with the subject. Illi’s arms slid around her sister’s small frame, hugging her close, offering touch and closeness as the best comfort between them with her words. “Nothing would have been enough for him, ‘Lu. It never is or will be.” Illumina slowly returned the embrace, laying her soft cheek on her sister's shoulder, something in her frame relaxing as Illiara gave her the succor she did not allow herself to achieve alone.  Yes, Illumina was stoic, and resistant, but it meant the pain had no where to go, no tears to carry it away.  The gentle touch of her beautiful sister cured all ills.  "No, but this will make us something more than victims at least."  Her eyes lifted and the opaline gaze met her sisters.  Illumina hesitated and then leaned close, her lips brushing her sister's impulsively.  The kiss lingered, longer than it should have as she pulled away.  Blushing Illumina gazed into her twin's eyes calmly.  “Go into the circle.  Kneel on one side of the dagger.  I’ll join you, opposite it.” Illiara paused, staring at her sister with eyes wide. In that moment when Illumina’s lips touched her own, all lingering thoughts of the horrors that Brann had visited had flown away and she’d felt safe and loved. It was a closeness that she’d feared lost between them over the last couple of years as they’d each sought their independence. But there was more than just the affection of sisters, or even twins that she’d felt in that innocent kiss, she’d glimpsed the acceptance and desire she’d always longed for, never realizing it was right there beside her. Blinking slowly, as if emerging from a trance, Illiara slowly pulled away from her sister and entered the circle. Moving to the far side so that she could watch Illumina, she knelt on the stone floor, knees parted slightly and her hands resting on her thighs, palms down. Her thick hair, pewter gray in the dimness of the room, hung loose down her back and around her shoulders, pooling on the floor behind and beside her. She ignored the wind that teased at her hair, throwing strands across her face and body, and made her nipples pucker at its cool touch. She found herself fascinated by the slender beauty of her sister as she continued the ritual that would enclose them in a circle of power. Illumina slowly took from a jar at the end of her desk a handful of the rough salt crystal and poured it slowly into the break in the perfect circle. Then she brushed the last of it from her hand slowly. "What I will do will call upon your magic, Illiara. It may hurt. It may not. I only learned of this ritual....it is not sidhe magic. It is a human magic, but it will work. I have learned some of it already, and it is more powerful than my own." Illumina had a hard time even conjuring were-light. "We will drink the moonlight water....it has seen only moonlight from dark to dark of one whole moon cycle." She touched the oil. “Then we will bathe in oil that has soaked in the sunlight for thirty days." This meant she’d been preparing this for almost three months - sunlight was a rare thing on storm driven Erinna. "Then blood to blood, opened by a silver dagger." Her long fingers touched the silver dagger between them. Her eyes lifted to seek Illiara's, her long hair flowing in the slight breeze, pooling along her shoulders like a waterfall of lead as she faced her beautiful sister. "The power of sidhe comes from becoming one. That’s why it is always sex...." Illiara smiled softly, both amazed by and proud of her sister. “But we are already one, twins from the same egg. Identical. Two halves made whole, separately and together.” Her gaze met her sister’s calmly. She had complete confidence in Illumina and whatever her sister required of her, she would not fail. Something familiar and vaguely disturbing floated on the wind, teasing at the back of Illiara’s mind, but she forced it away. Inside the circle they were completely safe from everyone and everything but themselves and each other. She would need to concentrate to give what was needed of her. With the circle acting as a container, Illiara began to open her senses to the magic that existed in and around all things. “What do you need from me, sister?” "We are twins, deeper than the Twins of the Empire, or the newborns of House Draconis. There are none like us....and that is how I know we can make this work without a sharing of flesh. We are shared flesh, shared blood. We can be one, without breaking the bond that keeps us truly protected." She leaned close and brushed her sister's small, hard breast lightly, feeling her heartbeat. "You only need trust that it will give us what we need. Offer the magic you have, to the magic I bring, my love." Illu's eyes shone softly and she smiled as she took a deep breath. Her expression cleared and Illiara could suddenly see the stillness in her sister, feel the power that was her pure control. With careful hands Illumina lifted the silver bowl, and drank slowly of the water within. As she lowered it she spoke softly. "Moonlight, to fill us with our glow; water to call upon our ancestors’ powers." Her eyes met her twin’s, and the shimmering fire of the white and black opal glimmered strangely. She offered the bowl to her sister, and breathed slowly, deeply. She felt the cool fire that was magic beginning in her body, the life-enriching liquid that gave her strength and grace, as it gave her sister beauty and power. Illiara took the bowl, her fingers brushing her sisters as she did so, lingering a moment longer than necessary. She dared not touch her sister as Illumina had touched her, she was afraid her twin would read more in the caress than she wanted her to, so she satisfied herself with what touch she could manage and remain innocent in her intent. Turning the bowl, she brought it to her mouth, drinking from the same spot where her sister’s lips had rested. As the water filled her mouth and throat, her sense of magic flared to vivid life, showing her hoards of power that lay untouched and usually unseen in the night air. It would be her task to draw upon this magic, to pool and hold.…to offer it for Illumina’s uses. Her own powers were unsophisticated, not as well trained yet as her twin’s. She’d worried she would have less magic to offer than would be needed, but as she used her power to gather the moonlit treasure, she knew this to no longer be a concern. The shimmer of her twin's skin in the soft starlight made Illumina shiver in anticipation. She also became more aware of her sister’s perfection, the lovely slender form before her, the fall of her hair over body and curve. Young yet, barely growing into womanhood, like herself....but she saw deeper, greater beauty, waiting to be coaxed to life. Her breathing threatened to speed up, and she took the jar of oil, speaking in a soft, husky voice. "Sunlight trapped in oil, never knowing true darkness, to bring life to what lies beneath the surface, as the sun brings life to the seeds beneath the ground." The power shimmered into being as she spoke the words, awareness birthing power as power waited to be noticed. Her sister's wild magics seethed in the air, in the room, inside the circle, woken by the gentle awareness of power Illumina had always had of her sister. It was never, had never been a matter of amount. It was a matter of scope, and when she'd been taught that all sidhe gained power by becoming one with another, either through sex, through becoming one with the world, or one with their own inner power, she had understood. She was half of a whole, her subtle, thoughtful power opposite her sister’s simple yet wildly wonderful magics. She reached into the jar and let the oil cover her hands. She slowly withdrew them and then began sliding her soft delicate hands, oiled and shining, over her sister's faintly shimmering skin. Her lips parted as she touched her sister intimately, lovingly. Illumina had wanted to do this for a long time, to ease her sister's hurts with touch and love. Now she could do so, and not be taken for unnaturally desiring her sister. Illiara remained still beneath her sister’s caresses, shocked by a feeling of love and desire that she’d never let herself recognize with her twin. It was joy to feel the smooth, oil-slicked fingers moving over her skin, but a stronger longing built in her with each passing moment. Dipping her hands into the jar that Illumina had sat between them, she covered her own hands with the warm oil. The oil was hot, but not enough to burn as she placed her hands on either of Illumina’s shoulders. It felt silky soft and warmed as if it had been left sitting on a sunny windowsill all day. Warmed, like she had been lying in a field of grass in high summer with the sun brightly shining overhead. Illiara slid her hands down over Illumina’s arms, leaving a glossy trail even as Illumina continued to anoint her with the special oil. Back up Illumina’s arms, Illiara’s hands moved, her fingers caressing in gentle circles, teasing as she performed the ritual task. Her hands encircled her sister’s neck gently, and then rubbed down her chest and over tender, firm breasts. She cupped the mounds in her oiled palms, rubbing softly over the turgid, abused aureoles, soothing….and finding pleasure in the feel of her sister’s flesh. Frightened and ashamed, she hurriedly moved her hands away to less provocative areas, a blush tinting her cheeks as she looked at Illumina’s eyes to judge her reaction to the touch. Illumina was shivering slightly, and caught her sister’s eyes. Her skin, much as her sister's, was now shining under the oil, gleaming like sea foam on a moonlit night; a dull shine unlike her sister's pearlescent shine. Her lips were parted and a dark, knowing look was in them. Instead of reacting with rejection or cruelty, she leaned closer. Illumina's hands slowly moved up the smooth skin of her sister's belly, letting her feel the warmth as it engulfed each of them. The power of the sun warmed them, encouraged them in the darkness they lived in, to grow and reach for more, like all newborn growing things do. Her slick hands slid gently, cupping the soft, firm flesh and making the ache in herself lessen, though it undoubtedly provoked her sister's ache. Leaning closer her hands moved up, cupping her sister’s neck, her cheeks, moving slowly over her lips, tracing their smoothness. Then traced the oil along the beautiful eyelids, the slightly pointed ears, the blushing cheeks. She withdrew her hands but slowly, and then reached for the dagger. Taking one of Illiara’s hands she slowly brought it over the silver bowl. "Blood and blood, heart and soul. We have always been one." Gently she drew the incredibly sharp blade along her sister's finger and let the blood drip into the silver chalice. She then offered her sister the dagger, and her hand....but as she leaned close her eyes closed. Illumina took her sister's finger into her mouth, and gently suckled upon it, her tongue tracing the tiny cut, stroking it as it slowly sealed. She shuddered again, and pulled away, tasting of her sister's blood, and feeling the potency of her magic sliding through her own body. Holding the dagger, Illiara could not move to repeat the ritual cutting. She couldn’t breathe as Illumina’s tongue slid over and around her finger, licking away the last traces of blood. The faintest pressure of teeth against the pad of her finger caused a heaviness to settle in Illiara’s lower body, a weight that ached and throbbed with each heart beat. She took a deep, much needed breath as Illumina let the digit slip from between her lips and again offered her hand. Illiara took Illumina’s hand in hers, amazed at the soft, muted shine within their skin, so alike, yet different and all the more lovely for coming together. Drawing the blade across the sidhe girl’s finger, she hissed in empathy for the pain, though in truth she herself had felt nothing. Large, apologetic eyes sought Illumina’s, begging for her sister’s forgiveness. Her own pain was bearable, but she hurt for the smallest wound Illumina endured and this was no exception. But in her sister’s eyes she saw no hurt, no pain, only endurance and accomplishment and love as the blood dripped slowly into the chalice. When an equal amount of blood had been shed, she drew Illumina’s hand away, leaving the chalice on the floor between them. The knelt, face to face as close as they could with only space between there parted knees for the cup to rest, yet Illiara wanted to be closer. Slowly she drew Illumina’s hand to her, brushing her lips lightly over the slowly bleeding cut, tasting blood. Then she pressed her sister’s palm to her cheek, opaline eyes meeting opaline eyes. With her hand over that of her twins, she slid them down her neck and slowly over her chest to touch her own breast, leaving a weakening trail of blood smears across her own fair skin. There are times when what is ritual must become something more. The correct way to continue the ritual was for each of them to drink from the bowl of mingled blood. But as Illiara tasted of Illumina’s blood, Illumina discarded ritual as she'd conceived it. She forged ritual out of whole cloth, as her sister traced Illumina’s blood across her cheek, her throat, her breast. Illumina’s hand felt the firm flesh, the soft tremor of heart beneath skin and bone. Trembling, her eyes wide open, she leaned closer, her hand gently grasping the soft mound, gently kneading it as she leaned in a delivered a kiss much deeper then the last they shared. Illumina tasted her blood, let Illiara taste her own blood, as her tongue slipped between parted lips. She allowed no time for thought, no time for consideration. She wanted this, and it would happen. They were one body, one soul, split in twain, with two hearts, two minds. She gently gave of her magic, her strength, her skill, gave it up to her sister, freely and without jealousy. It was all her sisters, freely. Her skin began to glow - a soft, moonlight glow as her other hand gently caressed Illiara’s thigh, slid up to touch her groin, her soft belly in a loving caress, remembering where they came from, together. Illiara’s hand left Illumina’s one, moving to touch her twin as she was being touched. Fingertips gently traced the line of Illumina’s throat, the silken skin over her collar bone before drifting lower. She returned her sister’s kiss with her own, one that was tentative in the way not of fear, but of dealing with something precious. Illumina’s lips were soft and yielding against hers and the taste and scent of their mingled blood filled her senses, heightening them. Illiara savored the feel of Illumina’s breast against her palm, enjoying the feel of the firm orb in her hand. She plucked gently at the hardened nub, delighting in the soft sighs her sister would breathe into her mouth with each touch. She felt Illumina’s magic sliding around and through her, an exotic flavor so different from her own. She returned the gift, playfully sending her own wild magic to twine around her sister, teasing and tickling and free for the taking. Offering of her own magic as she offered all that she was to her sister. Magic, heart, soul, body. Fire coursed through her veins; cool fire that made her body tighten in ways that she'd never felt before - or rather that she'd never understood before. Her shimmering eyes opened slowly and met her sister’s eyes. The cool milky opal was now alight with deeper fire and the wash of blue and green fire was also moving as the inner rings did constantly. Her other hand moved up the smooth skin and gentle swells of her sister's body, and she gently grasped both small mounds and caressed the hard nipples lovingly. Her soft gasps became a deep, urgent moan as she slipped her tongue to caress her sister's, tasting of her. A faint voice in the back of her mind spoke of soul kisses not being shared with one's own flesh and blood, but they were one; it could not be forbidden to love oneself. The desires she’d hidden, both from herself and her sister were important now - she could not hide these things any longer. She moved closer, pressed against her sister until her moonlit skin touched her sister, their thighs brushing lightly as their hands were pressed together. She drank of her sister’s power even as she poured herself, her breath, her life into her beloved one. Where they touched they no longer glimmered, no longer merely shined. Illumina’s skin took on a soft opalescent glow, a nacreous glow that pearls kept to themselves as her sister became moonlight and silver.... Illiara's arms slipped around her sister's body, her hands caressing Illumina's back languidly as they shared an endless kiss. Their breath mingled where their mouths met in gentle dance. She pulled her sister close, feeling Illumina's soft breasts pressed against her own, their bellies rubbing together lightly, leaving Illiara desiring closer contact. Her hands slid down Illumina's back to clutch at her derrière, pressing her closer until there was not even the swirling of their power between them. Around them magics twisted and flowed in colors that could not be seen by the eye, ritual magic and wild magic blending until they were neither and both, one Magic that could not be named. It moved like a wind, or a lover’s hand, caressing the girls’ bare skin or tugging on a lock of leaden-colored hair. Illiara drew her lips away, her breathing ragged with desire unquenched. She stared in awe-stuck love at her twin, feeling that here with Illumina she was finally healed of the wound they’d suffered when birth had separated them. She brushed her sister’s cheek with the back of her fingers, following the touch with a kiss that trailed along Illumina’s jaw-line and soft kisses that dropped down her sister’s throat. Illumina arched into the gentle kisses and her hands fell away from her sister's body, only to find their way to her hips, gently holding her close. She shifted slightly and her thigh pressed between Illiara's to part them lightly. One hand caught her as she knelt before her sister and arched into the tender kisses while her other hand lightly stroked Illi's hip. Her breath caught and she spoke her sister’s name, not aloud, not in word, but in a language so primal that it was unknown except between them. Shivering in need, in anticipation she called out to her sister, begged her not to cease. Her breath exploded from her body as her sister's lips were placed between her small, firm breasts and more power swirled around them, her magic falling over her sister like a lover’s body. The hand behind Illumina flattened against her back, supporting her body as she leaned back, baring herself for Illiara’s questing mouth. There was warmth in the wind, touching them with the love they shared, as well as a cold touch of the forbidden that raised the flesh on Illiara’s arms. She brushed the soft, fragrant skin with her mouth, feeling the beginning swell of her sister’s breast and her breathing quickened. She’d tasted of her sister already this night, had tasted her blood and her breath, now she wanted to taste other things. Her mouth glided over smooth, unblemished skin to the puckered flesh. She remembered her sister’s sighs of minutes before when she’d teased her with fingers. She longed to hear those sighs again. The moonlit glow from within Illumina that left the hard nub darker than the other flesh, but with fiery lights under the skin like those within the twins’ eyes. Illiara was rewarded with soft moans of pleasure as she used her tongue to chase one such pinpoint of fire with her tongue, swirling it around the aureole for long moments before her own desire for more closeness caused her to draw the tip between her lips to suckle gently. Illumina moved against her as she teased her with tongue and lips, but Illiara held her upper body still with her other hand pressed against her chest. This did little to quell the slow rocking of her sister’s lower body, her thigh moving slowly back and forth where it was pressed intimately between Illiara’s legs. It was not a sigh that she received however, not at first - it was a shocked gasp, a quiet exclamation of sudden pleasure that overwhelmed her sister's senses. She hadn't imagined this, hadn't ever felt this. It was warmth and love and a pleasure unlike anything she'd experienced. Even those few times she'd explored herself there had been nothing to compare with the soft kiss of her sister’s lips to her budding breast. Even as her sister held her still - so strong! - her hips moved, thigh slowly pressing against those soft and moist places between them. She shuddered and sighed softly then as she relaxed into the forbidden delight of her sister's love. Illumina slowly ran her hands along Illiara's shoulders, urging her on, accepting her forbidden kisses, and reveling in them. As her own body shimmered with opal fire the silvery light that streamed through her sister's body begged for touch, begged to be caressed. Her hands slid along her sister's back, lightly, lovingly; even as her thigh pressed harder against her sisters closed nether lips. She shuddered as the suckling became more intimate. Then Illumina's eyes opened wildly and her grasped her sister's arms tightly....and sank her fingers, her hands into her sisters body, sliding her flesh, her power, her self into her sister in a shock of glorious pleasure. Her thigh slid into her sister’s body in a manner impossible for true flesh....but she was inside her sister's delicate flower, flowing in the slight movements along her womb, along her sacred body. Illumina cried aloud, meaningless words that spoke only of love. The sudden and unexpected amount of intimacy in Illu’s touch shocked Illiara. Teeth closed around stiff flesh gently grating the oversensitive bud as she drew away, gasping. Illiara was a virgin in name, though not in truth for she’d been pleasured by Brann on an occasion, but nothing to compare to what she felt now. Everything she’d ever yearned to for, every caress she ever craved was in Illumina’s touch and more. Her breath left her body, drawn or pushed away by the ecstasy and the magic that coursed through both girls. It was exquisite, this feeling of having her sister within her in a way no mere man could ever be, but it wasn’t enough. Clutching at Illumina, she pulled her twin up so they were both so they faced each other again. Pressing her hands against Illumina’s back, she drew her sister close even has she felt her fingers enter her sister’s flesh. As their bodies touched, breast slid into breast, belly joined belly and hips slid together and into each other like fitted pieces. Illiara could feel her sister inside of her, Illumina’s sex rubbing against hers, wet, tender lips sliding against and into each other with pleasurable friction that existed only on a magical plane. She kissed Illumina again, deeply and with all her love as they moved into and against each other’s bodies in a joining that beyond that of man and woman, body and body… Illumina muffled what should have been a scream with that kiss so deep and soft, no longer attempting to draw breath from outside but taking Illiara's breath into herself and then gifting it to her in kind, a closed circuit of their mingled life. Her fingers slid along her twin's back, along her soft body, fingers gently moving into her sister's cleft from behind, as her other hand drew nails lightly along the unmarked back. She was drowning in her sister's flesh, being her sister, sharing her body and life and blood as one. Her love and desire became flame, as her body erupted into opal glow, blue and green and red shimmering flames sliding from under her glowing nacreous flesh to the surface to spread and fade and begin life anew. As her sister's love and flesh mingled with her own her heart stopped and life became a single pulse of pure love, a point of absolute unity, a singularity that consisted only of them… Where Illiara left off and Illumina began was unknowable, for they were truly one flesh, one body. One heartbeat sustained them, one spirit resided within, one mind knew them, one body found the ultimate pleasure and the two sidhe maidens shared it with one another. The fire of Illumina’s need washed over them both, dancing in their delight until it was drank in by Illiara’s want, absorbed into her body like drowning women sinking beneath the surface of the water. They gave and took from each other, offering all and taking it as only one can do with the deepest love. Slowly, slowly their minds and bodies parted, leaving them succored by love and made whole and pure by their own magic. They were no longer lesser and their glow, their power confirmed it. They were made anew in the fires of their love and their sacrifices; they could feel the changes within themselves, within each other. The fire of their opal and silver skin shifted and painted the room in beauty as Illumina looked into her eyes, her mirror. She did not speak aloud, but her words were clear. I love you. XS & B