Chapter Text
The pair resumed their exploration of the house after lunch. They poked around the three other upstairs bedrooms, all furnished in a gothic style to suit Wednesday’s tastes. Across from their suite was a large study that Xavier recognized from the vision Wednesday had asked him for on the beach following the Poe Cup.
“I’m planning on doing my writing in here,” she said as she took in the massive mahogany desk and the walls lined with books.
Xavier nodded. It was a perfect space for her.
“And now, let’s go look at the attic,” she said, leading the way from the room.
They proceeded up the stairs that were hidden behind a door at the end of the hall. When they opened the door at the top of the staircase, Xavier was shocked to see a white space glowing with sunlight. The peaked roof was filled with windows that let in copious sunshine, and the whole length of the attic had been whitewashed.
Reading Xavier’s expression, Wednesday explained she had it painted to serve as a blank canvas for however he chose to decorate it. His supplies were already in the room; three trunks of brushes, paints, and other items, along with easels and drop clothes neatly stacked against the back wall.
At the other end of the massive studio were two doors. One led to a bathroom, and the other to a sizable storeroom where Xavier found the paintings he’d sent over a month ago, plus the ones Wednesday had removed from the hall downstairs. Setting up a space this massive was going to be quite a project, and he was glad for it. Having something to do would help him adjust to their new home.
“Is there a basement?” Xavier asked, thinking back to the stairs he’d seen in the kitchen.
“Yes. With a wine cellar, a laboratory, and a dissection room. For me, obviously,” she explained.
“Yeah, obviously,” he said, running a hand through his tousled hair and catching it up in a bun. “I think I’ll take a tour of that some other time.”
“Fine by me,” Wednesday agreed, not terribly eager to share her spaces with him.
They went back down to the library and found Draven and Hamish curled up beside the hearth. Xavier sank onto the couch in the center of the room and looked around. This experience felt surreal. First, the idea of being finished with school hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Beyond that, he was in a country he’d never been to, in a massive home that he owned but that felt so incredibly foreign to him. All of it felt so overwhelming.
Wednesday sat primly beside him on the leather couch and observed his face as if she were interrogating a suspect.
“Sorry,” he said, catching her eye. “It’s just…a lot right now. I’m not sure how to feel about anything.”
Wednesday nodded silently. She was overall unaffected by the move, never attaching particular sentiment to any given place. The weather pleased her and the house suited her aesthetic tastes. Yet, Xavier seemed on edge, as if he expected a ghost to emerge from a nearby painting. Wednesday assumed he wouldn’t enjoy that experience as much as she would.
“I think I need some time to process,” Xavier said, breaking the silence and standing up. “I’m going to take a walk around the grounds.”
He headed for the front hall, and Hamish pricked up his ears. Wednesday gave the hellhound a curt nod, and Hamish bounded after Xavier. Xavier scratched the dog’s head, secretly glad for the animal’s company, as he stepped out into the misty afternoon.
When she heard the front door clang shut behind Xavier, Wednesday sighed and sat back against the couch cushion. Draven opened an eye and transformed into his human form. He sat down on the couch a little ways from her and eyed her closely.
“He’s so damn sensitive,” Wednesday said, exasperated. She’d been trying to be patient with Xavier’s mood, but it was difficult after a while. “It’s his fault we’re here, I don’t understand why he’s so off.”
“Change is hard for many humans,” Draven offered. “You must give him time to adjust. He is used to being among his peers all of the time, so he probably feels alone.”
Wednesday muttered something about Xavier having too many feelings for anyone’s good before saying, “There’s no use wasting time while he’s out. Let’s go through the tomes I managed to collect and the ones that came with the house and decide what’s worth spending time on.”
They headed for her office and began scanning the spell books and other volumes that lined the shelves. Draven wrinkled his nose at a few that contained particularly baneful magic, which Wednesday added to her mental list of “must-reads.”
Xavier and Hamish set off across the expanse of lawn, garden, and hedges in the back of the mansion. It didn’t take long to arrive at the back gate, which was far less imposing than the front one. Xavier pushed it open and wedged a rock in it, having forgotten his keys. He wasn’t sure how far their land went, but he knew it was hundreds of acres and more than he could expect to cover in an afternoon’s walk.
Hamish padded happily alongside Xavier, and Xavier was thankful for the company as they set out over the moors. He imagined himself as a tortured Heathcliff, bemoaning his many woes, and found the idea quite entertaining. He’d hated Wuthering Heights when he’d first read it, but now he wondered if he should give it another go.
The wind was punishing once they were away from the protection of the rolling hills. Hamish ran around, returning to Xavier’s side every so often before dashing off again. When the rain began to fall more heavily, Xavier called the hound and turned for home. He took a slightly different route, staying within the fir trees that lined the estate once he got off the moors. They provided a bit of shelter from the storm and held in the day’s meager warmth. The ground was soft underfoot with decaying pine needles, and Xavier hardly made a sound as he walked. Every so often, he thought he caught sight of shadowy figures in his periphery, but when he looked straight on, there was nothing to see.
He wandered through the trees with only a vague idea of where he was going. As the wind picked up, he noticed a strange shape just a ways ahead of him and started for it. Soon he came upon a circle of standing stones covered in lichen and weathered by thousands of years. He gaped at the sight, awed by its mere existence and on his land, no less. Hamish snuffled softly and nuzzled Xavier’s hand as they approached the circle. Instinctively, Xavier slid his fingers into Hamish’s fur, feeling a need to keep contact with the hellhound as he reached his other hand out to touch the nearest stone.
As his fingers made contact, the world around him began to blur and darken. He gripped Hamish’s coat as five robed figures appeared within the stone circle before him. It was suddenly night, and candles burned in clusters on the ground at the base of each stone.
The tallest figure held a chalice in both hands and spoke. “Are you prepared to join with this family for so long as the gods may deign that you walk upon this earth and then after beyond the veil?” the deep voice asked the cloaked figure beside him.
“I am,” said the respondent’s silky deep voice.
It was a woman, and the voice sounded strangely familiar to Xavier. She held out long-nailed hands to take the chalice from the first speaker. Then she drank deeply. As she lowered the chalice, she looked up directly into Xavier’s eyes.
Morticia! Xavier realized with surprise. She seemed a bit younger, perhaps, but it was clearly her.
The world began to shift around him again, but Morticia kept her eyes locked on his. Before the vision faded away, he heard her ask, “Are you prepared too, Xavier Thorpe?”
It was nearly dark when Xavier and Hamish returned to the house. Hamish went immediately to the library to resume his fireside vigil. Xavier headed upstairs to shower.
The warm water felt heavenly on his skin after spending hours in the cold. The grounds surrounding their home were quite extensive, and so far, he felt more at ease outside the house than inside of it. He closed his eyes and let the water run down his body, feeling like it was washing away the last chapter of his life.
He heard a noise and then felt Wednesday step into the shower with him. He kept his eyes closed as he felt her fingers trail down his body and come to rest on his hips. He breathed sharply when he felt her lips brush his growing erection and her tongue take a tentative lap at its head. He slid his hands into her loose, wet hair as she opened her mouth for him, pulling him in until he felt himself hit the back of her throat.
Wednesday hummed, sending vibrations of pleasure coursing through his body. She encouraged him to move his hips, driving into her mouth as she sucked and lapped at him, until he came for her, gasping and panting with effort and sensation.
Xavier sank to the floor of the tub, opening his eyes when he reached his knees. Wednesday was staring at him, face unreadable as she observed his expression. He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply, thankful for the relief from his thoughts.
When they were dry, Xavier headed to the kitchen to start dinner. Wednesday sat gazing at her reflection in her dressing table mirror. Xavier’s distance over the past few hours had caught her off-guard. She expected him to become even clingier than usual when they arrived; instead, he seemed like a ghost of himself drifting through the house without purpose.
Wednesday focused her vision in the mirror until her reflection blurred and shifted. In its place, she now saw Xavier perusing the contents of the pantry, long fingers tracing labels and ingredients. Nothing out of the ordinary, but she still felt uneasy. He was prone to depression, and she hoped his current mood wouldn’t last. She banished the image before gliding from the room.
Xavier heard the dulcet tones of Wednesday’s cello as he chopped vegetables mechanically in the kitchen. He paused for a moment to listen to the sound, losing himself in her music.
They ate mostly silently in the oversized dining room, Wednesday observing Xavier throughout the meal. Something had to be done. A wild wind blew outside, and rain lashed the windows. It was perfect for the magic she intended to use.
Wednesday excused herself after dinner to retreat to her library and scan the books she and Draven had neatly piled earlier that day. She sought one that she hadn’t imagined using ever, much less tonight, but Xavier seemed on the precipice of one of his depressions if she couldn’t recall him to himself.
She ran a pale finger down the table of contents written in ornate script on time-yellowed pages. Then she found the item she was looking for; a glamour spell with a side of obsession. She gathered the candles and incense that she needed before whispering the Latin incantation that would achieve her desires. When she finished, she summoned Xavier telepathically to their candlelit bedroom.
Xavier pushed open the door to the bedroom, not understanding why she’d called him rather than simply coming back downstairs. Then he saw her and stopped in his tracks. The room was lit by the fire and candelabra. A record played deep cello music and crackled. Wednesday lay propped against the black pillows at the top of the bed, clothed in only a black lace negligée. More than that, she seemed to emanate a sense of dark beauty that pulled at his deepest carnal desires.
Xavier pulled his shirt over his head as he approached the bed. Wednesday followed him with her eyes as he stripped naked before her without her having to instruct him to. He could feel the magic surrounding her as if it were an electric field.
“What did you do?” he whispered to her as he climbed up on the bed and her hand settled around his erection.
“Just a trick to remind you what’s important,” she replied, stroking him and guiding his lips to hers.
Her kiss felt electric, sending shockwaves through his body. Whatever magic she’d used, it was working. He had to have her, to lose himself in her. Nothing in the world was more important than her in this moment. He knew much of it had to do with her magic, but he didn’t care; he needed her; he had to get his hands on her and in her.
Wednesday gasped as his fingers slipped inside her wet, warm center, stroking her from within and beckoning her closer to the edge. He broke away from her lips to reposition himself and latch on to her clit. A desperate moan escaped her lips, and her eyes fluttered closed.
Xavier watched her face as he licked her; her back was arched, and her hips pushed into his face, urging him onward. She protested weakly when he withdrew his fingers and his mouth, though he quickly settled himself between her legs and pushed himself into her. When he did, a wave of relief broke over him. It was like a fog lifted and he could see clearly for the first time in eons. Her body was the only thing that existed for him in this moment. It was the only thing that he lived for. She met his every thrust with eager hips, and she raked lines in his back with her nails. He brought her to orgasm again and again before he finally spilled into her, gasping and trembling.
Xavier watched Wednesday as she slept, her face illuminated by flickering candlelight. Her spell had worn off by now, but the magic had quieted and focused him. There was no use dwelling on the fact that they would never be students again, and that they were in a foreign country far from everything and everyone he knew. He thought about the ring tucked deep in one of his bags. That was what he should be focusing on, he realized. The past was the past, for better or worse. Wednesday was his future.