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The swan and the Goldfinch	By : Madettica Category: Anita Blake > Threesomes Plus Views: 4157 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
(please note....I am a dumbass and finally figured out the betas sections is supposed to be for betas...people looking to be betas for stories and not for me to post my half written crap upon :k....way I'm going I'll prolly never finish this anyways)
Most characters owned by Laurell K Hamilton, however Rose is all mine.*Disclaimer: I do not own or make any money off of this story. Stuff like that.

And I wanted
You turned away
You don't remember
But I do
You never even tried

Don't fall away
And leave me to myself
Don't fall away
And leave love bleeding
In my hands
In my hands again

-Fuel

She fell quite then, Jean Claude and I had both drawn closer against her as she told her tale and we moved closer still as if our bodies could shelter her from the brunt of the horror that was her past. The conclusion of her nightmare of an encounter Jean-Claude and I knew far too well for comfort, but we would let her finish; let her bring their sins against her into the light. The language of her body as she rest against us a broken, spiritless thing, spoke volumes, the volumes perhaps her voice could not. Silent tears spilt down the rivulets of her cheeks in a cascade of liquid crystal and I began to think she could not bring herself to finish it.

Absently I stroked the scars the cigarette had left in its hateful wake. There was not simply one perfectly rounded pox, but at least a dark half dozen scattered along the milky flesh of that one delicate arm. They had used her like some head of cattle, branding her with their hate and it caused me such intense disgust, such hatred, for boys who could do such things to such innocence. My entire body tensed with my emotions, being so close to Rose, pressed against her as I was, she too must have felt my anger humming through me for she too began to stiffen. Her anger seemed to eat away at her sadness and shock for her tears slowly began to abate. She took a deep shaky breath before she very calmly announced.

“They took turns…one held me down while the other raped me… except Jared…he just turned his back and went outside…but not before he gave me a very long look…he gave me a look like it was my fault, like I deserved it…and maybe I did…I should have kept my mouth shut and simply walked away…”

“Non mon amour…no one EVER deserves to be raped…” Jean Claude gingerly chided as he pressed a soft whisper of a kiss to her cheek.

Rose’s head gently canted to him, her smile a timid thing upon her lips as her head came to rest against his chest.

“Were these rapists punished?” I asked but with a whisper of breathe against her cheek as I leaned into her, into the curve of her and Jean Claude’s bodies.

Rose looked up to me thoughtfully for a moment; her eyes seemed to weigh the gravity of her answer with what reaction would be set off within me as she held my gaze with those mismatched jewels.

“I killed them…” She said quietly, but with such powerful conviction.

“Bon…then that is but one less thing for us to worry over.” I spoke soothingly to her, my head slipped down so that my lips could find gentle purchase along the side of her slender throat. A small shiver of pleasure from her was my reward for so small an effort of movement and inwardly it made me smile that she responded to me in such a way.

Jean-Claude took the moment of silence as his cue to ask the question I knew plagued even my mind.

“But ma petite, there is one thing even I do not comprehend. You are a swanmane yes? But Anita spoke of you as a feline…” He paused, perhaps at a loss as to how to finish his question, or simply because he wished to allow her the chance herself to make clear her true nature.

Carefully she drew her full lower lip behind her front teeth, worrying at it as she mulled over the newest obstacle of a question. It made me curious as to why she was being so careful with her answers, so guarded with just Jean-Claude and I as her confidants. Did she think we could or would still cast her out to the mercies of Padma?

“ I am a true shape shifter…maybe something about the wild magic of faerie and the blood of the cursed swanmane…maybe even because I wanted so badly to always be able to protect myself…I don’t really know. My first change not long after the rape, I began to sprout feathers, I knew it was happening and I was so angry, but then the feathers began to soften and become fur, and I was glad, anything but something so helpless as a swan. That very first change…I hunted Jared’s friends down…” The anger bubbled up again within her, but I could smell the saltiness of tears welled up and held captive, unshed within her eyes.

So… that is why Padma so desperately wished to possess her. A true shape shifter, let alone one with the wild magic of the fair folk, must have presented The Lord of beasts with such greedy desire that it consumed him completely. Jean Claude would not allow her to leave, not with such power that she contained within her, untapped and at whoever’s disposal that so chose to link into it.

She was but a child with no one to whom to turn to. Jean Claude would not let her go for her power; I would not let her go for I was beginning to feel again. Hope, passion, so many other things. Her love was a tangible thing, something warm and all consuming. It wrapped around me like a second skin that breathed new, joyful life into me and I would not let that go now.

Perhaps I even loved her, it was so difficult to discern with all the other emotions swimming around my brain. I was a creature struggling to stay afloat with only my Rose to save me.

“Mon chardonneret?” Jean Claude asked pensively as those bedroom eyes of deepest blue looked to me questioningly.

It was then I realized that they both watched me with such grave questioning. They waited for me…waited for me to speak; they waited for some action from me…I am not certain what they wished from me, but whatever it was they waited with bated breath.

I needed her, to make certain she was flesh and blood and not some phantom of my desires. I needed Jean-Claude, for the burdens that had prevented me from reaching out to him were taken from my shoulders by my fleur delicate. And so I gave them the movement of my body, the crush of my length to her and the press of both Rose and I to him. I trapped her scarred body between us, and my arms reached around her to hold my long lost beauté somber(dark beauty). She shifted against me, a silent supplicant, lovingly willing, and eagerly able as she shrugged from the azure silk of her robe.

Jean-Claude moved to slip from the bed, but before I could reach him with both hand and gentle word to stay, my sweet Rose spoke for us.

“Please Jean-Claude…Stay with us…”

She had rolled from me, her back pressed soft against the front of my body, as her arms twined around Jean-Claude’s waist to capture and bring him back to us. His face remained that placid surface of calm that he had perfected over those many years, but his eyes shone with uncertainty. Slowly, but not reluctantly, he let Rose pull him back down to lie beside her. Reflecting pools of deepest blue flickered from her to me and then back again as he wavered upon what he should do. Rose, ever so slowly and gingerly leaned into Jean-Claude, her face tilting up to place a tender kiss to his lips even as my hand sought to caress the slope of his exposed side.

Silently I watched as Jean-Claude’s hesitation turned to the same sweet tenderness Rose gave him. His free hand that was not trapped by his body came to tentively caress one of her scared breasts and I moved slowly to prop myself upon one elbow to afford myself a better view. Still upon my side, pressed deliciously against Rose’s backside, my own free hand moved from Jean-Claude’s waist and up a long exploratory path into that wealth of ebon tendrils. As soon as my fingers caught into that supple mass they curled instinctively, balled a tight hold in his hair, and roughly I broke him from his tender kiss with Rose to drag him up into the savageness of my waiting lips.

The only tenderness Jean-Claude would receive in his lovemaking that night would have to be supplied from Rose. For me it had been too long, too hard a road traveled to be gentle with him. I had watched him with Anita with a mix of pain and jealousy. The bonds that they had shared had eaten me from the insides, even more than I would ever be willing to admit but now, whether I willed it or not, it reflected within the force of my kiss.

My mouth ate at his, with a nip of teeth to his bee stung bottom lip, and a tangle of tongues. Had we the need to breathe I would suspect we would have been left gasping, but breathing would not damper the fire roaring between us.

All of this was absorbed quietly by the belle fleur that lay still between, and beneath us. It had amazed me at how she seemed to pluck my every need, my every desire I had stored away for so long in the dark recesses of my mind and brought them forth into the shinning light of her devotion. But she had known how much I had loved Jean-Claude, still loved him…through the many nights of conversation we had shared and took comfort in during her stay. And from that she had come to this, given me this, and it filled me with such joy.

Finally I slowly eased back from my branding of Jean-Claude’s mouth, my thumb slowly tracing the edge of his cheek as I spoke deep and huskily against his lips.

“Mon ami, mon amour sombre, nous négligeons que qui nous a rapporté ensemble, lui montrer l'attention je longed pour Vous me montrer…”

(My friend, my dark love, we ignore that which has brought us back together, show her the attention I longed for You to show to me...)

I had left the rest of what I truly wanted to say unspoken, but I knew it weighed heavy against both of us. Once Anita had shown us the misconceptions of our past I had longed for him, but had not dared, nor truly cared to be touched as I had been. The scars upon my flesh had been physical reminders to us both of the emotional scars upon our lives.
And now we had a clean slate as it were in our Rose, the scars she had taken unto herself were now scars of love and selflessness and it left us all open to love again.
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A/n: Ok I promise next chapter = sex scene, I've found I can't write hard, passionate sex to slow music, sorry for the delay, took me a while to figure out what my block was....damned slow smushy music...
- 6
- 7
- 8
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The swan and the Goldfinch