Chapter Eleven
Pascal gone, they remained alone, their hands still joined on Catherine's now quiet stomach. Finally, Vincent drew his away. "Would you like something else to eat or drink, Catherine?
"No, thank you. I'm perfectly rested now, and I feel like stretching my legs a little. Would you take me to see the tapestries, Vincent?"
He acquiesced and gracefully rose to help her up. Sebastian was attracting general attention, and there was no one near the stairs. Together they once more admired the beautiful, mysterious tapestries that seemed to take a life of their own in the ever changing candlelight. They indeed seemed to be the windows to other worlds, and Catherine suddenly felt a chill, like a cold draft in her back. The surprise in Vincent's eyes made her turn around, and they found themselves facing Narcissa, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
"Narcissa! I'm glad you decided to join us!" Vincent exclaimed.
The old woman shook her head. "I have not come for the feast, child. The spirits spoke to me, and I needed to see you. You and the courageous one!" she added, turning to Catherine.
"Why? Is anything wrong?" Vincent worried.
Narcissa's cackling laughter answered him. "Child, the spirits don't always bring bad news!" Stepping close to Catherine, she put both her hands on her abdomen. Vincent felt the child inside awaken instantly, and Catherine started, surprised with the strength of the baby's movements. Narcissa chuckled again. "Oh, he is strong, this one, the Precious One!" Her veiled eyes rolled up as she seemed to go in a kind of trance, still firmly holding Catherine. Soon the movements quieted down, and the baby went to sleep again.
Vincent was growing uneasy. "Please, Narcissa, you are frightening Catherine!"
"She has no fear. And neither should you, Vincent!" Narcissa retorted. "The son is like the father!" she told Catherine, before turning to Vincent. "The path is the right one. It must be trod carefully and with courage. I will ask for the spirits to protect you on your way." Vincent opened his mouth to ask something, but she stopped him with an imperious gesture. "The answers you seek are waiting for you, child, at the end of the path. Then you will look into your own eyes, and what is lost shall be found again!"
A sudden noise in their backs caused Catherine and Vincent to look away for a second, and when they turned again, the old sorceress was gone, leaving behind her the same eerie chill hat had announced her coming.
Catherine shook her head. "How did she do that?" she asked. She lifted the tapestry in front of her, expecting to find evidence of a secret passage, but only found solid rock.
"Narcissa has her own ways." Vincent answered. "Father is unwilling to believe that, as his scientific mind refuses to admit that some events defy any logical explanation. But there are things I've seen... I don't share Father's view, even if Narcissa seemed to say so."
Catherine just nodded with a smile, but she felt like bursting with joy. She knew that Narcissa's remark referred to another father, and another son. Her child was a boy, and he would look like Vincent, that was what the old woman had told her, and Catherine felt no doubt that it was true. As if something deep inside her had always known it.
"Narcissa's ways can be... disconcerting, " Vincent went on "I hope she didn't frighten you!"
"Oh, no! I know she would never hurt me or my baby. Her touch was gentle, and her hands felt so warm!"
"But her words..." Vincent answered, with an uneasy look.
Catherine smiled to reassure him. She was aware that some of Narcissa's sentences had held a double meaning, referring to things only she and Vincent could know, things for now buried into Vincent's lost memories but maybe close enough to the surface to disturb him. Narcissa had even quoted that Dylan Thomas poem he had repeated over and over in his delirium. What is lost shall be found again. To her it sounded like a promise that Vincent's memories would come back.
She took both his hands in hers and looked straight into his eyes. "Her words may not have been totally clear, but they were clearly words of hope. Of trust in the future!"
"Yes," he whispered, drawing her into his arms, needing to feel her close. Though he would have been unable to tell what, something Narcissa had said had troubled him, stirring a dark, whirling cloud he sometimes felt looming just out of reach, deep inside him. He buried his face in Catherine's hair to inhale her sweet scent and the uneasy sensation disappeared.
The path is the right one. Yes, that at least was clear in Narcissa's cryptic words, and all Vincent's being, body and soul, heartfully agreed.
"Oh, Catherine!" he breathed in her hair.
She pulled away slightly to look up at him, her eyes shining, her mouth slightly open in an unconscious invitation. Oblivious to the rest of the world, he slowly lowered his head, irresistibly drawn to her tempting lips... A loud burst of applause made them jump apart. Looking down, they saw Sebastian bowing to an enthusiastic audience, and exchanged relieved, if slightly embarassed glances, both aware that if they had kissed, there on the stairs like on a stage, the next applause might not have been for Sebastian...
"Seems we missed something!" Catherine finally said with a crooked grin.
"Definitely." Vincent solemnly answered, a twinkle in his eyes.
Still holding hands, they descended the stairs to mingle with the joyous crowd and enjoy the company. They would have time together alone, later, that unspoken promise hummed between them as they chatted with their friends.
Lin and Henry Pei had come with their baby son, Henry Vincent, and made them promise they would come and share a meal in the basement of their new restaurant, one day.
Michael was there, too and discussed his curriculum and classes with Vincent, a beaming Brooke at his arm. Catherine noticed that the young man seemed rather relieved that Vincent had forgotten about a certain incident.
They had a long talk with Laura who now had a fulfilling life Above, teaching hearing-impaired children. She had come without her fiancé, who still didn't know about the tunnels, but she intended, with Catherine's support and recommendation, to ask for the Council's permission to let him meet her family before their wedding, scheduled for next June.
Vincent inconspicuously watched Catherine interact with them all, realizing she was just as familiar with many of their Helpers as she was with the tunnel folks. He had been informed, briefly, of the changes that had occurred in the last years, but he now understood that Catherine had taken an active part in most of them. And, apparently, so had he. The disturbing question of his previous relationship with Catherine once more almost surfaced, and once more he let it sink back into oblivion, instinctively reluctant to think further.
They were talking with a new Helper named Brian, whom Catherine had introduced to him, when Father's voice called everyone to attention. Winterfest was coming to an end.
Helpers and tunnel people joined hands to form a great circle, living symbol of the mutual support and friendship they both offered and received.
"Our world has once again gone through many a dark hour in the year past." Father began. "But we survived. And here we are once again, together, celebrating light and friendship. Before we part for another year, I'd like us to count our blessings, and the numerous reasons we all have to hope, and trust in the future! New friends found, old friends returned to us, children born and children to be born, individual and collective projects coming to fruition with everyone's help... Our community is thriving, Helpers and tunnel people together, and we've all made it so, by sharing our strength, and our light. May the coming year fulfill all its promises! May darkness spare us all, but remember, darkness is only the absence of light, and all winters end!
Joined hands rose toward the ceiling, collective emotion so strong in the huge chamber that Vincent almost choked with it. But he revelled in it, too, in the powerful, lively current of positive energy running through him, warming every fiber of his being. From among the indistinct mass one thread suddenly stood out, pure and clear, piercing his heart. Catherine! She stood at his side, her eyes shining, her small, warm hand firmly clutching his, and for a few seconds Vincent could share her thrilled joy, feel her hope, her trust, her love. Love for their community, for the child in her womb who had awakened as if to take part in the ritual, too. And above all else, flooding through his soul, was her love for him, a strong, all-encompassing current that shocked him by its depth, and its poignancy. It lasted only for a heartbeat, and then the ritual was over. Hands parted and conversations started again, leaving Vincent stunned and wondering if he had dreamed that miraculous instant of clarity, if it had only been wishful thinking on his part.
Catherine's hand was still nestled in his and he squeezed it gently. In instant response she rose a beaming face to him, and in her brimming eyes he read the silent confirmation of what her heart had told him. "Oh, Vincent!" she sighed.
"Catherine..." With reluctance he tore himself away from her adoring gaze. The Helpers were leaving, there were goodbyes to be said, groups to be organized to take them back to their homes. Vincent led Catherine back to her armchair, and she sat there, her eyes never leaving him as he attended to his various duties. Gradually the Great Hall emptied until only tunnel dwellers remained, clearing out leftover food and dirty dishes. Unwilling to sit there idle, Catherine went to help, but got instantly caught by Mary, who deftly took the pile of plates from her hands.
"No, no, dear! We'll take care of that! Now it's time for you to go and rest. Vincent! Vincent! Come over here, will you?"
He put down the huge table he was carrying and obediently joined them. "Yes, Mary?"
"Those tables can wait, they certainly won't fly away! You should take Catherine back to her chamber, now. It's getting late."
"Yes, of course!" he answered, looking intently at Catherine, who smiled demurely as she took his offered arm.
As they started walking toward the entrance, Mary's voice called them back. "Oh, by the way, Vincent, I don't think Catherine should climb up all those stairs. She looks exhausted."
He gravely nodded in answer and Mary watched them don their cloaks and leave, a twinkle in her eyes. No one could say she hadn't done her best...
As soon as they were out of the chamber the howling winds seized them and Catherine pulled her cloak tight around her body, shivering. Instantly she found herself lifted from the ground, Vincent's great arms holding her to his chest. He answered her gasp of surprise with a chuckle. "Mary's order, Catherine!"
"Oh, then if it's Mary's order, it must be obeyed!" Catherine playfully retorted, locking her arms around Vincent's neck. Bless dear Mary! she mentally added, gratefully burrowing into his warmth as he carried her up the stairs.
Soon they arrived at the top, but he had no desire to put her down. Though her slight weight was nothing for him, he felt he was carrying the whole world in his arms. A world of promises, of hopes, a world of love. From the deepest reaches of him arose a wave of dark, snarling possessiveness, a strong need to take Catherine to some faraway, deep place known only to him, love her through the endless tunnel night and never let her go! He knew where that urge came from, and it should have frightened him, yet it didn't. His love for Catherine seemed to reach down to even the darkest places of his soul, casting a ray of warm light into those fearsome realms, making them something he could begin to acknowledge without fear of being engulfed by them. The magnitude of the discovery made Vincent's head spin, but he set it aside for further pondering and tightened his hold on Catherine's soft body, determined to enjoy the present moment, and those still to come.
As they passed the entrance of his chamber he felt Catherine stir in his arms, and tighten her embrace. He stopped to look down at her and met darkened, intent eyes, full of a longing matching his own.
He almost gave in to their shared need, then, almost took her to his bed to claim her as his, now and forever, but Narcissa's words rang to his ears. Courage, and care. Vincent would have been unable to decide on which side courage lay at that precise moment, but at least he knew what care demanded. With a sigh he resumed his walk toward Catherine's chamber. He entered it with his precious burden still in his arms, pushing the drape aside with his shoulder and letting it fall back behind them. Only when they were in the middle of the chamber did he release her, carefully, supporting her until she was steady on her feet.
The moment when Vincent's hand left her was physically painful to Catherine. She suddenly felt cold, and lonely. Instinctively she closed the small distance between them, eager for his touch, for his warmth and blissfully felt his arms enclose her again. Desperately as she wanted him, and he wanted her, she knew he wasn't ready for such a huge step yet, but that didn't mean they had to part without a proper goodnight... She looked up at him, caressing the beloved features with a loving look to finally center her gaze on his beautiful, intriguing mouth, hungry for its taste.
Vincent didn't even try to resist. At least one of the promises of that magical, miraculous Winterfest night was going to be fulfilled right now!
Bending his head, he touched the tempting, offered lips with his own, first just nuzzling against their full softness, then growing progressively bolder as they opened under his increased pressure, until he could taste her fully. With a growling moan he tightened his embrace on Catherine, one of his hands coming up to cup the back of her head to hold her to him as he drank deeply of her sweetness, his tongue thrusting into her welcoming mouth to explore her thoroughly, caressing her own small, active tongue on the way.
Their kiss lasted for an eternity, neither of them willing to end it. They managed to breathe now and then but it wasn't their foremost preoccupation lost as they were in a world of feelings and sensations that was only theirs. Catherine felt that for those precious instants she had Vincent back, all of him, dark and light together, the one who had loved her in that cavern. And though his memories might not yet be ready to surface at a conscious level, she knew with absolute certainty that all the moments, good and bad, they had shared were somehow present in his soul as he kissed her.
Vincent was lost in Catherine's touch, gladly surrendering his whole soul, his whole life to her. He had been made to love this woman, and love her he would, with all that he was, until the end of times, if she would have him. Deep inside him the hunger grew, but he wasn't afraid or ashamed of it any more. Now he knew he could deal with those feelings, because they arose from his love for Catherine. It was just a matter of not letting them get too out of hand. With a reluctant sigh he finally tore himself away from Catherine's mouth and arms, soothing her frustrated whimper with an appeasing caress on her cheek.
"I must go, now, Catherine." he whispered.
She suddenly noticed that the pipes were banging away, Vincent's name frequently coming back in the messages.
"Seems you're needed in the Great Hall." she managed, still breathless.
He nodded and swiftly bent to lay a last, short kiss on her lips.
"Sleep well, Catherine."
"Goodnight, Vincent."
Before going out of the chamber he looked at her one more time, so beautiful in her red dress, her hair slightly rumpled and her lips still red and swollen from their kisses. "Oh, Catherine..." he sighed, and left.
As he finally headed toward the Great Hall, walking on clouds, Vincent truly believed everything was possible.