Chapter Text
The hooded figure glided from shadow to shadow, seamlessly avoiding the flame-lit lanterns. His long dark cloak clung to the void around him making him near invisible to the night watchmen. Rats and beetles scattered before him, his heeled boots mercilessly crushing and crunching any pests in his path. He rounded a narrow corner and pulled himself close to the contours of the brick wall behind him and stood dead still as one of the clueless watchmen made his rounds. When the coast was clear the man knocked silently at the little wooden door. Without a warning the door opened just wide enough for him to enter, a slender pale hand gripped his wrist pulling him into the still darkness of the room.
The woman quickly shut and latched the door behind him, then went to tend to the fire. Always stunned upon seeing her, the man took a moment to admire her beauty. Her raven hair glistened in the dim fire light and her eyes looked bigger and darker than he knew they were. Her pale skin appeared to glow eerily in the dim firelight, giving her the appearance of one who has recently departed. She was beautiful and Betelgeuse who had never had anything to call his own loved her.
“Elizabeth, my love,” he croaked in a rough voice, he shook loose grave-dirt from his cloak as he removed his hood, revealing his round pale face.
“Do you pull all strange men into your home?” he asked, coy, “and at all hours too, Vespers was hours ago.”
She turned to him, a look of fake outrage shifting her features.
“Betel,” she admonished, “you know that is not true, my door only opens for you.” She smiled shyly but followed with a flirtatious wink.
“Come, sit by the fire,” Elizabeth coaxed as Betelgeuse shed his cloak and hung it on a hook near the door. The cloak was made of rough wool dyed black and lined with ermine fur, producing a black and white striped effect. Not something Betelgeuse could have ever afforded to buy; it had been a gift. The cloak had belonged to the son of a wealthy family; it was Betelgeuse’s good fortune to be given the cloak upon the death of the son. It would keep him warm though the long, cold London winter.
The fire had been down to embers when he entered, the dark heavy window coverings hiding its light from the watchmen, but now the blaze roared anew. Betelgeuse drew close to the warm light hoping to vanquish the chill the night air had given him. He shivered even as the beautiful Elizabeth draped her arms around him, linking her fingers across his chest as she draped herself against his back. He sighed with contentment as she rested her head on his shoulder and lightly brushed her lips to his cheek.
“My love, why have you come so late, the watch, they might have caught you.” Elizabeth said, her voice full of concern but a teasing smile still played on her lips.
They enjoyed taking risks for one another. He turned his head and met her wide, fearful gaze with a loving but stern look.
“They could never keep us apart,” he said quite serious, turning and bringing his arms around her in a tight embrace. The way she nudged her head against his chest was endearing and it made his heart flutter unsteadily.
Whenever she asks for his presence he comes to her, at all hours. An urchin had delivered to him a note mere hours ago telling him the exact time to be at Elizabeth’s door. Betelgeuse was not a hard man to find, he had steady work as a grave digger, what with the plague only a few short years behind them, and outbreaks still occurring. Even without the Black Death, people were always dying.
Pulling Elizabeth just a little bit closer, Betelgeuse whispered fondly, “I will always come, when you call.”