The Lord of Angels couldn't remember the last time that he had felt so ill and uncomfortable because of that illness. He rarely ever got sick, and when he suspected that he was getting sick, he would properly take care of himself. Not run around half-naked in the woods during a snow storm. He smiled slightly, remembering what Stefan had said to him, with such a serious face: "What would your mother say to that?!"

At the time, Rosiel had looked astonished rather than offended (he didn't like to speak about his "parents" with anyone) at the serious look on Stefan's face, and burst out laughing. It had been when they both had taken a hot bath together, and Rosiel suggested to run out in the snow, naked, to cool off. Stefan didn't think that was such a good idea and refused, but Rosiel had merely said, "Your loss", jumped out of the bath, and run all the way down to the entrance of the bar, pushed open the doors, finally running outside, yelling.

Javen had also been outside at the time, stocking bags of flour out back of his store, and he had stared at him. Following Rosiel, Stefan poked his head out the door, then came out, standing at the threshold, with a towel wrapped around his waist, looking mortified. After a moments hesitation, he had followed Rosiel, to go scream at him, and then Javen went back to his stocking, shaking his head, and mumbled something about too much alcohol doing odd things to men.

While remembering this, Rosiel was leading Faye back to the Seven Roses on auto-pilot, barely paying attention to the environment around him. His eyes were half-closed and he was grinning; he supposed he must look on the verge of passing out or drunk. Worrying that this would disturb Faye, he immediately stopped smiling and looked at her to see if she had noticed.

Faye was lost in her own thoughts. He again got the feeling that she was close to tears and wanted to ask her what was wrong, but thought that his questions would be better received if they were sitting before a warm meal and fire. He started to walk faster, and finally noticed that she was also holding his hand very tightly. The Angel glanced at her again, and noticed she blushed, and loosened the hold on his hand.

He mumbled, "Don't worry about it," and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

They'd been walking for a bit now, and Rosiel was begining to wonder if his illness and the snow storm had made him lose his bearings, and they were lost, but he was able to see his Blue Tree in the distance, so he knew they were very close. "Are we close?" Faye whispered to him, her voice sounding hoarse and strained.

"Yes," he whispered back, pointing at the Blue Tree in the distance. "We're almost to the front of the Inn, actually, there's the tree that-" Rosiel suddenly stopped speaking, hurrying behind another tree, leading Faye with him. He crouched, folding his wing that had been covering her, and motioned for her crouch with him.

Rosiel heard voices, and these voices were not familiar to him at all, except for one. Hidden behind the trunk of the tree, its' lower branches, and the curtain of snow that kept falling and falling, he listened to them. Over the wind, he couldn't hear anything, but he thought he heard Katan.

"Faye," he whsipered, "We've got some other guests... but I don't know if they're friendly or not. Stefan has not opened the door for them... what do you want- are you all right?" he asked, glancing at her again. "Faye, are you too cold? You look... something isn't right. Listen, we'll get you inside. I'll deal with the guests, friendly or not."

"She is acting unnaturally," said the voice, in the same manner someone would have said, "Be careful; it bites."

She's just cold, he insisted to it.

"You really are an idiot," it responded mournfully.

She nodded, closing pained blue eyes. She spoke as she did, "What I am upset for is not my friends. I know now that they are safe together. My worries..." she sighed softly and opened her eyes, feeling as though she was shrinking in her fitted corset, "...Are elsewhere." She finished lamely.

As they started off, Faye relaxed slightly into the slight safety the angel offered. It would never frighten Alyria off that he was something holy, but it would certainly make her wait to burst through at least until the angel was not in physical contact with her body. Alyria would avoid any possibility of scaring her appearance, a 'virtue' she would be loathe to loose if she could avoid it. But Faye knew that depending on Alyria's vanity would not offer much protection, not for long. Alyria would grow bored. She would sacrifice a little temporary scarring.
Faye became suddenly aware that her hold on Rosiel's hand was getting tighter as she thought. Cheeks flushing, she loosened her fingers, transferring her tense grip to her other hand as she lifted her skirts slightly off the ground. It was habit, the soft fabrics comfortably in her grasp, lifted slightly and offering slightly more freeing movement, though her already damp skirts could not be saved from further damage.

Faye moved on silently and mechanically, focusing on her internal debates. She worked slowly, brining her body to build up what little more physical strength it would offer then. Pouring her energy into this reserve, holding it against the possibly taxing moments to come. More slowly, she tried to build up the sturdy wall between her consciousness and Alyria's. She felt, too powerfully, Alyria's fiery anger, and feared it. There were only minutes left before her singular strength would run out and the true vampire within took over. Faye felt with bitter disgust, the slight tinge of the old longing for blood. She needed to be with a Guardian. She needed Keovari, but she felt instinctively that Keovari's help would be overcome when she reached the Seven Roses again and faced Gabriel once more. Her emotions were nothing short of helpless, shattered, and seeing him as she had some hours ago, would very probably ignite Alyria just as well as would Keovari's leaving completely. Her hope banked on Gabriel's out-of-use, but equally meaningful Guardianship to her. In Faye's current condition, she was as likely to loose control by not being with Gabriel, as her fears suggested she would in the emotional emergency of being with him... And most importantly, she could not return to the Seven Roses, see him, and deny... Not again.
Deep down, Faye begged the fates to see that her thoughts even held meaning. Please, let him still be there... Let him know me...

Faye glanced at Rosiel, examining his face.
She banked her hope in her single possibility of safety. If she was wrong... If she was being directed more by her love and need for personal satisfaction... The pain she would cause to the people for whom she cared would be disastrous.

"Are we close?" She whispered harshly, the fears trying to manifest in tears, forcibly held back.

When the younger Angel had finally reached the door, he put his ear to it. The door was very thick, so he couldn't really hear much, but he was now closer to those outside, and he could properly feel the energy signatures of those outside, but faintly.

Three of them he didn't recognize, but he thought the fourth seemed familiar. Two Demons that he didn't recognize, although one of them was obviously pretty old. A human woman, and... an Angel. He was sure of it. He could feel Holy light radiating from this creature, so it must be an Angel.

And yet, it felt so familer to Stefan, this signature. But he couldn't remember where he knew this Angel from. Perhaps these were simple travelers, and he was wrong to get so worried about them being armed; after all, they were close to the mountains, and in a forest. Not the safest place to be, exactly.

Stefan turned to look back at Gabriel, and he noticed that the Vampire was tense. Gabriel had gotten off of his stool, and he stood holding it before him. Stefan shook his head.
"Mr. Gabriel," he whispered. "There's an Angel with them. It's one of us... so I don't think they're here to hurt us... but just in case... behind the counter... if you go, I have all of my knives there. Ones to hack away at bones, too."

---

Katan stopped right before the door, causing Leonard to run into him from behind.

"Christ, Angel. Watch it. What's wrong?"

"Something here feels familer to me," he mumbled.

"Familer? The owners of the Inn are supposed to be Angels. Maybe you once knew one of them?"

"Perhaps..."

"Knock on the door, Leonard," Samael interupted. "I'm freezing out here and right now, all I want is a nice, warm bed."

Leonard passed Katan and rapped on the door with his fist, quickly.

"Who's there?" came the reply.

"We'd like a room for the night, good sir. I realize that it's very late, and we'd be willing to pay extra for our stay if need be."

"Are you merchants?"

"No, sir. We are bounty hunters."

"And the Angel with you... he is your bounty?"

"... Wh-" started Leonard. Again, Samael interupted him.

"No, he isn't our bounty. We found him wandering the planes. He seems to have lost his memory, so we took him with us. Don't know what to do with him, though... but we really need some rest, especially him."

"I'm a bit hungry, too," Katan mumbled.

"An Angel..."

---

Stefan's eyes widened as he heard the Angel speak.

"It's Katan," he gasped. "Katan. Rosiel's lover." He leaned against the door and closed his eyes. It was Katan, obviously. He had only met the Angel once or twice, but he'd smelled his scent many times and felt the signature of his energy. Why? Because it was all over his older brother. Rosiel and Katan weren't lovers in the open.

Well, they couldn't be, could they?

Stefan didn't know if he could trust the Demons.. but if Katan was with them...

He opened his eyes, looking back at Gabriel, hoping the Vampire would have an idea.

Gabriel heard it too; the crunch of snow beneath armoured boots, too heavy for a human; the clank and rattle of weaponry; and that unmistakable smell. The fear and realisation swept over him like freezing water.

Oh...bollocks.

Demons. He knew they'd use demons when the time came; less likely to pussy out, less chance of him surviving the attack. The fact they weren't averse to a spot of mindless brutality was nothing more than a bonus.

His weapons were upstairs; he'd left them packed in his trunk in a moment of foolish optimism and security. You fucking idiot, he told himself. You knew you weren't safe anywhere. The footsteps grew closer; they were but ten steps from the door. He couldn't go and retrieve his weapons from upstairs; he could not allow himself to put Stefan in any danger from the assassins meant for him. Here was where he made his stand; fist-to-fist if necessary. Curling his long fingers around the leg of his bar stool and swinging it up to his face, he stood facing the door, waiting to unleash Hell before he went.

Rosiel didn't understand why Faye had wrapped the blanket around him; it had been meant for her. She was mumbling something, too... he strained to listen to her over the wind. After saying "Guardian" Faye's face contorted painfully. She bit her lower lip slightly and her eyes had a far away, blank look. He thought that he could see her lip trembling a little anyway; she was obviously trying to hold back tears.

He could feel her dispair, as well. It was one of the "gifts" that Angels possessed that he wished dearly that he'd never gotten. It was wonderful to have this feeling when the people around you were being happy... but when they hurt, it was awful. Rosiel felt the weight that was on Faye's heart on his own, and it was choking him. He didn't understand what was making her so sad, and he wanted it to go away; it wasn't that he was selfish, but he couldn't stand to see anyone in agony.

And he was reminded again of Faye's stricken face.

The Angel leaned up and lightly touched the woman's cheek with his hand, watching her speak to him with that same blank look on her face. She hadn't even noticed that he was touching her. Her cheek felt warm to him, pulsing with her life. He moved his hand away before she could notice, and she started to brush at the skirt of her dress, absently.

He kept his hand in the air, watching her carefully now, unsure of what was wrong. His lips and his throat suddenly felt very dry to him, and he terribly wanted something to drink. There was the snow. Water, water, all around him, but drinking any of it (or, rather, eating) would surely cause him to have another coughing hit. He withdrew his hand completely, and moved the other from his mouth, sitting up, then having his hand slip.

Rosiel slid down, hearing the crunch his head made against the snow, and then having the entire world go completely woozy on him again. His closed his eyes briefly, and whe he opened them he saw that Faye had stopped brushing at her dress with her hand and instead had it up to her face, peeking at him from between her fingers.

"I do not kn-"

A gasp. Was she choking?

Then her breath caught.

Yes, choking. Is she choking? He tried to lean up again, to help her. She began to cough, but it was a short fit and her cough didn't sound wet, as it were to sound if she were also ill, nor was it too dry. Perhaps her throat was also too dry?

She was silent for around a minute and then she spoke, again.

"Rosiel, I am sorry, I do not know the way back. I am afraid you will have to direct me." She knelt down slightly as she spoke to him, "May I help you?" she said, as she offered him her hand. Her voice sounded bitter, angry, and she did sound like she was choking again.

Tears?

He reached up and softly wrapped his hand around her wrist, pulling her hand away from her face so that he could see her. He took her offered hand with his other hand, letting go of her wrist and gently sliding the back of his hand across her cheek.

"Please don't be upset," he said in a hoarse whisper, as that was all his throat would allow. "Keovari and the Lady Mystical that I have not met... they will join us at the bar, then."

He used her as gently as he could to get to his feet, and of course, the world started to swim before him once again. The Angel clasped a hand on Faye's shoulder to keep his balance and look around him. The snow made it almost impossible to see anything ahead of a few meters. He felt wet and cold again, and looked down, to notice that the blanket had slid off of him and was lying on the ground. His shirt was still soaked, and it would just make the blanket wet.

He really wished that Faye would have taken it for herself, as he intended. As quickly as he could, he unbuttoned the shirt, took it off, crumpled it, and stuffed it in his pack, which he slung across his should again. Rosie leaned over and picked up the blanket, holding on to Faye's shoulder tightly (he hoped he wasn't hurting her) and then drapped it over the both of them.

"Let's go," he wheezed. "Ravenholm is this way. I hope Stefan will have some warm food and drink prepared for us..."

He slid his hand down Faye's arm, taking her hand and leading her through the forest and the snow, with his right wing folded around the woman in an attempt to keep her warm.

Keovari's mind pulled away from the moment. All his heart and self-interest begged him to focus on the situation at hand. He wanted, so deeply, to be wholly in the moment. As much as he loved his charge, as much as she meant to him, at that moment he wished that he was free from the obligations he was held to with Faye. Her depressed wash of emotions only fuelled the anger he felt at losing his moment. A moment that, he knew now, he had unknowingly longed for, for many years. Here was his chance, a chance he had missed in his life and lost in his afterlife.
Here was his chance, and he was losing it.
He fought against his instincts for Faye, and found himself anchored for just another second in this moment by Mystical's gentle touch.
Something flashed over him. A powerful and confusing feeling. He vaguely remembered this feeling from the last time he had come this close to an attractive woman, but now, he felt compelled by more than simple physical attraction.
His face, cradled by her sweet hold, moving impossibly close to her... His eyes, lost in her own, willing away the rest of the world, slowly closing... His hands, arms, closing more tightly around her, gently lifting her...

---

Distracted, Faye watched Rosiel's movement and caught sight of a part of the blanket. She reached out and gently pulled his hand away, opening the pack and pulling it out. It was dry, good in this freezing and wet world. She tucked it gently around Rosiel and forced a slight smile, meant to reassure him somehow.
"Rosiel, I must find my companions, especially Keovari. I fear..." She signed, a longing, pained sigh, "I simply must. I must find a... my... Guardian." Her mind flickered slightly. A painfully bright image. Gabriel smiling over her. Oh...
She fought with her tears, winning the battle externally.
"Oh, no, first I must see you safely back to the Seven Roses." She nodded, standing and carefully extracting herself from the angel. Taking the moment to right herself and her mind, she brushed her hands over her skirts, smoothing them and brushing away imaginary loose threads. Still, her mind flickered awkwardly and her hands stopped mid brush.

---

He kissed her.

---

She looked back to Rosiel and slid one small hand to her face, peeking through her fingers at him.
"I do not kn.." She turned away sharply, suddenly impaled with Keovari's feelings. She gasped, her breath caught in her throat, and she coughed, "Oh!"
A smile fought its way to her lips. Oh Keovari... Her mind spun in the blissful joy of Keovari's feelings as well as her own for his happiness. If only she could know just what was happening. Her vague impression of her two dearest friends together was so beautiful...
Her smiled continued, turned dreamily on Rosiel.
"Oh.. Yes..." The smile faltering as a pressure of confused consternation filled her. She childishly became angry. All she wanted was to be safe and warm. She wanted tonight to have not happened to her. She wanted to be safely back in that comfortable bed she had at the Seven Roses. She felt the bubbling pressure, like a tantrum, rising her. She wanted to run back and find the safety of his arms. But she knew that she should not. Even more, she knew that she had to get herself and Rosiel back safely.

She looked at Rosiel again. Her friend.
"Rosiel, I am sorry, I do not know the way back. I am afraid you will have to direct me." She knelt down slightly as she spoke to him, "May I help you?" She held out her hand.

Stefan looked at the Vampire with mild interest. He didn't know whether or not Vampires  could digest normal food, but what Gabriel had ordered was more than most humans would eat. He was thinking, trying to remember if he had everything of what his guest wanted when Gabriel put coin before him.

He stared at the glimmering coin before him, then looked back at the Vampire. The Angel took the coin, and thrust it back at Gabriel.

"Your money is no good here, Mr. Gabriel. Rosiel already said that you, Lady Josephine, and Lady Mystial are our guests for no price. The inn was started to provide a service for travelers. We take money when we need it. We do not need it right now... Except, I might not be able to fullfill your entire request. I'm not sure if I have everything. I'm going to go check and -"

The Angel fell silent at hearing someone outside. He could hear the loud crunching of the snow under someone's feet. Was it Rosiel returning their guests, like he was assuming? Stefen listened more closely; he held up his hand to motion Gabriel to not make a sound while slowly moving closer to the door.

He could hear things more clearly now. There were four of them; it still could be Rosiel, followed by Faye, Mystical, and Keovari, assuming he had been able to find all 3 of them. But something was wrong. The footfalls were heavy and awkward. These creatures were carrying a lot of weight. Rosiel hadn't taken anything heavy with him, and he didn't imagine Faye and Keo would carrying anything with them.

It wasn't them. Nor were these merchants; Stefan couldn't hear the footfalls of an animal to carry their burden. Weapons.

They were armed.