Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: ¡Muchas gracias por todas sus revisiones! It is very much appreciated and hope you'll enjoy this chapter. And as always, many thanks to the lovely Lissanne for the beta.

XIII

For the first time since she and Brandon had begun their relationship, Emerson didn't promptly receive a response from him. She was used to getting a return owl no more than two days at the latest. But as the week went by, and although she sent an owl every other day, she heard nothing back. At first, she thought it was nothing less than she deserved. She hadn't responded to many of his owls since the miscarriage and when she did write back, her letters were always brief. She'd claimed to be very busy with school and work, and while that wasn't a lie, it had never interfered with her letter-writing before. There was no doubt that Brandon had picked up on that, and his stony silence to her repeated letters could only be interpreted as payback.

But as Thursday drew to a close and still no word from him, Em began to really panic. What if he just didn't bother to show up the next day? What if he hadn't even read any of those increasingly plaintive missives that she'd sent to him? Had he finally had enough?

Sighing, she forced herself to leave off her fruitless staring out the window. An owl wasn't going to materialize just because she wanted one to. Perhaps she should just start resigning herself to the fact that after two solid months of seeing him every weekend, things were about to change.

"And it's my own fault," she whispered miserably, picking up her pen again. She was writing a paper on Pharmacology and Toxicology, a paper that wasn't due for a good month. But her insomnia was such that she'd gotten much further into the curriculum than she'd envisioned, so why not get it out of the way? It's not like she had anything better to do. Even her boyfriend didn't want to be around her.

That is assuming he's still my boyfriend.

Em felt her eyelids prickling at the thought. What the hell had she been thinking, pushing him away? Had she really thought she could get on without him? Even before they'd become lovers, Brandon had always been a part of her life. He was one of her earliest childhood playmates and they'd gotten on well together until the year she'd turned ten and he'd become a colossal pain in the arse. That had continued after she'd gone to Hogwarts, until her second year when they'd reached an understanding and their friendship had truly blossomed. He'd become one of her best friends, someone she could always count on to be there for her. And then that night in her flat, he'd become so much more.

"Please write to me, Odie. Please," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks as she stared out her window into the blackness. The wind whipped her curtains about and ruffled the papers on her desk and she sniffled and lay her head down on her arms.

A slight rustling made her look up sharply and her heart hammered in her chest when she saw the large screech owl that was perched on her window ledge. Breathing hard, she stood up and went over, trying not to get her hopes up. It could be from Lyna or Ben, sharing news of their happy lives back home. It could be from her parents, like the one from Mum yesterday in which she'd informed Em that her old psychologist, Dr. Frasier, was currently living in nearby Worcester, Massachusetts and would love to hear from her.

But when she unrolled the letter, her eyes overflowed at the handwriting. It was from him. It was Brandon. And it was the shortest letter he'd ever written to her:

Emerson,

Brandon

Em was so relieved that she had to sit down shakily on her bed, clutching the letter to her bosom. He had written to her. He hadn't washed his hands of her. But what did that mean, pack a bag? Were they going somewhere? If he was going to break up with her, he wouldn't take her somewhere else to do it, would he, at least not a place that would require a change of clothes. And why a warm coat? It was pretty much Spring everywhere. A light jacket would be more appropriate.

"But he said 'a warm coat', so who am I to argue?" she chirped to Axel, who purred his agreement.

The questions and curiosity plagued her all through the next day so that while she sort of dreaded seeing him (because that was when she would have to confess how horrible she truly was), she couldn't wait to see him, either. The day seemed to drag by, but at last she said goodbye to Kady, who would be keeping Axel for her, and Apparated to the IMA terminal.

The fifteen minute wait for his Portkey to arrive felt like infinity to Emerson as she sat fingering the bag that she'd packed and shrunk to fit inside the pocket of her coat. But at last, she saw him emerging from one of the arrival booths. Her heart pounded erratically as she watched him approach. He stood out, there was no doubt about it. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, such calm assurance. He was dressed casually in loose, painter-style jeans, a light blue button-down shirt with a plain white t-shirt underneath and his trademark Doc Martens. But the clothes hung so well on his lanky six foot two frame that he gave off the air of being elegantly dressed up. His shiny brown hair was as thick and shaggy as usual and she fancied that from where she stood, she could see the golden flecks in his brown eyes.

Of course it took only a few strides of his long legs before he was standing in front of her and she didn't have to imagine anymore. Em felt herself blushing.

"Hi," he said.

She managed a small smile. "Hi."

They just stood there staring at each other for a minute before opening their mouths at the same time.

"Did you-"

"Where-"

They both broke off and smiled tentatively at each other and Emerson's heart jumped. "You go first," she said softly.

"Did you bring your bag?"

She nodded. "Yeah. But why?"

In response, he began to reach for her hand but almost immediately changed his mind and something in Emerson sank. It was her own fault, she knew. Every time he'd touched her lately, she'd flinched or pulled away. Was it any wonder that he was trying to protect himself from her rejection?

Brandon had reddened slightly. "Um, we're taking a trip."

"Oh. To where?"

He started to walk towards the Portkey office and she followed, trying not to feel annoyed at his lack of information. A small taste of her own medicine after all, wasn't it?

"Wait here," he said. He went into the office and returned a few minutes later with one of the IMA's baton-like Portkeys. He gestured her to follow him and she did, to one of the Departure booths. They entered and a minute later, a crisp female voice announced, "Seven-thirty to Alberta."

Em looked up at him quizzically. "Alberta? What's in Alberta?"

He gazed down into her eyes. "Do you trust me?"

Maybe it was the look in his eyes; maybe it was the tone of his voice. But something about the question resounded within Emerson and she found herself suddenly on the verge of tears. She had to swallow hard a few times before she could speak.

"I trust you," she choked.

He seemed emotional, too, but didn't speak, only held out the baton and she put her hand on it. Another minute and there was the familiar tug behind her navel as the Portkey activated. Her feet landed on some kind of surface that sounded hollow and she could feel the chill even through her coat. Brandon gripped her waist, steadying her, but he dropped his hands as soon as she'd regained her balance.

Trying not to notice how her skin burned at his touch even through the layers of her clothing, Emerson looked behind her. They were standing on what appeared to be the front porch of a small wooden house - no, a cabin - with wide glass-paneled windows and cozy-looking gingham curtains. There were steps on either side of the porch, upon which was a large swing which creaked slowly in the slight wind.

She turned back to him. "Brandon, where are we?"

"We're in Alberta, Canada," he replied. He gestured to their right. "And this is Lake Louise."

Em followed his gaze and let out a gasp at the sight before her. From her position on the porch, she had a clear, unobstructed view of a towering mountain peak and a nearby glacier, both of which were covered in snow. Nestled in the valley between the mountain and the glacier was a magnificent lake, the dying rays of the sun reflecting proudly off the milky turquoise water. Even as she watched, a chunk of ice broke away from the glacier, which hung slightly over one end of the lake, and splashed into the water below. All around was lush vegetation and vivid wildflowers, leading up to the wide grassy slope upon which the cabin rested. It was, without a doubt, one of the most breathtaking sights Emerson had ever beheld.

"Oh, Brandon! It's so beautiful!" she exclaimed, her mouth open and her breath coming fast, enraptured by the vision before her.

"So are you," he said, so softly that she almost didn't hear him.

She looked up quickly at him but he turned towards the cabin. "Let's go inside."

Casting a last look at the beautiful lake with its spectacular snow-capped backdrop, Em followed him inside the cabin. The first thing that she noticed was that it was deliciously warm, especially coming in from the chill. She stood still for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. They were standing in what was clearly the living room. A large, comfortable looking sofa with overstuffed cushions was in the corner nearest a good-sized fireplace, in which a hearty fire was crackling. The floors were wooden and shiny, the ceiling high and exposed. There were two recliners on either side of the room, with deep blue knitted throws over their backs. In the middle was a large, dark-stained coffee table on top of what looked like a bearskin rug. There were no lamps of any kind and the only light in the room seemed to come from the fireplace and the waning daylight through the windows. An open door on the left led somewhere out of the room and to the right was a surprisingly large kitchen.

Emerson's mind was racing as she took in everything. Brandon helped her shrug out of her coat and hung it up on a hook beside the front door. He seemed in no hurry to offer any explanations and feeling somewhat dazed, she followed him into the kitchen.

"Are you hungry?"

She hadn't thought about it but now that he mentioned it, she realized that she was starving and nodded. Without a word, he led her past the large, old-fashioned sink and to a long, wooden table beside another wide window. Through it, she could see the vivid colors of sunset beginning to be reflected on the lake and could barely tear her eyes away from the sight. But once she did, her mouth fell open again when she saw the table. It was set for two, with tall tapered candles on either end and a large vase of fresh wildflowers in the middle. Silver domes covered their meals and there was an uncorked bottle of wine to the side.

A thousand questions were zipping through Emerson's mind at high speed. Whose cabin was this? How had Brandon obtained it? Who had lit the fire, set the table, obtained the meals and wine?

But he didn't seem in any hurry to talk and she was feeling a bit too overwhelmed to ask anything. They sat and he poured them both some wine. He watched her as she took a sip and she blushed at his scrutiny.

"It's good," she whispered.

"Try the food."

She removed the silver dome in front of her and her first whiff nearly made her weep. She looked up at him, open-mouthed. "Is this-"

"Corelli's?" he supplied. "Yeah."

Emerson stared at him, trying not to burst into tears. Corelli's was her favorite restaurant in the world, located in Muggle London. Had he really had her favorite meal sent all the way here? And to think she'd been fretting that he was going to break up with her!

"You did this for me?"

His dark eyes held hers. "Eat."

She ate, even though that familiar lump was back in her throat. She ate, even though her tears threatened to overtake her at any moment. She ate, even though the guilt, the happiness, the love warred for dominance within her, making her head pound and her heart to soar. Dare she hope? Dare she hope that somehow, she hadn't ruined the best thing to ever happen to her? Dare she hope that somehow, she hadn't lost him, like she'd lost their baby?

He didn't speak through the whole meal, not once, and when they'd cleared their plates, he banished the dishes to the old-fashioned sink. "There's dessert, too. Do you want it now or later?"

Em glanced out the window. "Let's eat it later. I want to see the lake again."

"Okay," he said softly, coming around to pull her chair back.

He took her hand to help her stand and her stomach turned somersaults at his nearness. She could feel her face heating up again and found herself unable to meet his eyes. They headed back out onto the porch and Brandon cast a Warming charm around its perimeter to ward off the chill, as well as one to repel insects.

They sat together in awed silence, watching the sun sink behind the peaks bordering the lake. Emerson was feeling quite overwhelmed, by the beauty of the panorama before her and by everything that had transpired that day. She felt perpetually on the verge of tears.

And it was all because of him. Brandon was so wonderful. Everything he'd done - arranging the use of the cabin, obtaining a special Portkey that transported them directly here, even getting her favorite meal from her favorite restaurant back home!

But it wasn't only that. It was his patience, his determination to stand by her side, to support her even as she'd tried her hardest to push him away. The weight of her emotions and her pain was crushing and she'd thought she wanted, deserved, to carry it alone.

But he wouldn't let me, she thought, glancing at his profile in the fading rays of the sunset. He won't let me.

And he was right. She needed him so much. If he hadn't been with her, so consistent and resolute in spite of everything, in spite of how she'd treated him... Kady was right. She really was lucky. She was so lucky to have this wonderful man who loved her.

Swallowing hard at the lump in her throat, Em sighed and surreptitiously wiped her eyes. "It's so lovely here."

Brandon turned to look at her and his dark eyes made her breath catch in her throat. He stared at her for a long moment before he answered. "Yeah, it is. Actually, there's a story about it."

"Tell me it," she whispered.

He leaned back in the swing and put his arm around her, slowly, almost hesitantly. But this time she let him, sagging against him and feeling, in turn, the tension draining from his body as he realized that she wasn't going to flinch and pull away. Not this time.

He held her for a long time and she rested against him, breathing him in, her love for him swelling within so that the addition of one more emotion broke the ranks and her cup overflowed silently down her cheeks. Neither of them spoke, content to hold each other and let this small step do its work, while all around them the music of crickets serenaded the night and the stars twinkled overhead.

"The Legend of Lake Louise is told by the native Canadians of the area," Brandon said suddenly after an inordinate amount of silence.

For a few seconds, Em wondered what he was talking about before she remembered her last request. But he was still speaking.

"...told of a giant who saw a rainbow and decided that he wanted to use it to make a magic bow. So he climbed to the top of the highest peak of those mountains and grasped the rainbow. Of course rainbows aren't solid so it just melted in his hand. The giant was so angry that he snatched at the rest of it and smashed it against the other mountain peaks nearby.

"The Great Spirits - that's what they call their Higher Power - had to make a new rainbow to hold up the sky when it rains. But the old rainbow can still be seen. Its beauty is reflected at the bottom of Lake Louise."

The sound of his voice melted away into the night air and she sighed again. "That's a beautiful story."

Brandon turned and stared at her again, for so long and his eyes so full of emotion that her tears resumed their silent journey down her cheeks. He reached out and wiped them away, the feel of his callused fingers making her shiver slightly. "I love you."

And Emerson burst into tears, clinging to him, sobbing into his chest so hard, for so many reasons. He held her fiercely, kissing her hair, still whispering. She cried until that terrible ache inside her chest abated, until she was the one whispering how much she loved him, how sorry she was.

"I never meant to hurt you," she choked but he touched her lips with his fingertips and silenced her ramblings.

"It's okay. You were hurting. And you still hurt."

She shook her head. "That didn't mean that I could treat you the way I did! You were hurting, too. Oh, Brandon, I'm so sorry! I was just trying to push you away because I thought that if you knew the truth, you wouldn't think about me this way any more."

"Shh," he murmured, hugging her to him. "I love you. Nothing will ever change that, do you hear me? Nothing."

It would be so easy to leave it there, to let it go. He loved her. It didn't matter what she did, what she thought, he would still love her. But Emerson knew that if she kept it to herself, it would hold her back. She would never be able to truly move on unless she shared this painful secret with him.

Pulling out of his embrace, she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. "Brandon, do you remember in the bathroom, when-"

"I remember. I won't ever forget it for the rest of my life," he said, his voice heavy with panic and terror. He shuddered. "I almost lost you, Emerson."

"When I saw the blood... w-when I saw it, and I realized what it m-meant, I mean I knew that it meant that the b-baby was gone a-and a-and-"

He cupped her face, looking deeply into her eyes. "Emerson, it's okay. You don't have to-"

"No, I have to tell you!" she sobbed. "Brandon, I felt relieved! When I realized what the b-blood meant, I was relieved. I was h-happy that our baby was gone! How could I have been happy? What kind of horrible, selfish- I didn't w-want our baby, Brandon! I didn't want it and then it was gone! I'm so sorry. I'm sorry!"

He was crying too now, her distress grabbing hold of him and exposing his own grief. They held each other for a long time, until they'd both calmed down somewhat, and he pulled away. "It wasn't your fault, Em. None of it. We weren't ready. It's horrible the way it happened, but it was the best thing in the end. You know that."

Em sobbed at his words and he gently cupped her face again, his eyes burning with the intensity of his emotions. "We have to move beyond this. We can't let it drag us down." His voice grew husky with feeling and tears shone in his eyes again. "Don't shut me out. I don't think I can live without you. Let me love you, Emerson."

"Yes," she whispered in a choked voice, wiping his cheeks. "Yes, Brandon."

And then he was hugging her so tightly, she could hardly breathe but that was all right because she was crushing him to her just as tightly. Their lips met, for the first time in weeks, and they both gasped at the electricity of their reconnection. He pulled her onto his lap, his tongue delving hungrily into her mouth, his hands pressing her to him. Emerson gripped his hair and kissed him back just as frantically. Her ears were ringing with the passion infusing the air around them and they broke away, gulping mouthfuls of oxygen before they were kissing again.

Finally they pulled apart, panting, nuzzling each other with lips and hands as if unable to help themselves. Emerson's whole body hummed with a feeling she much recognized and which, since the miscarriage, she had fought against: desire. She wanted him, the only man who had ever inspired that particular emotion in her, that deep, maddening need.

But although he was gazing up at her, his dark eyes burning with the exact same wanting that she knew her own eyes were filled with, although she felt the evidence of his desire against her thigh from her perch atop his lap, she knew he wouldn't make the first move. Not after having been rebuffed before. A man could only take so much bruising to his ego before he wised up.

Blushing slightly, Em leaned forward and kissed him. He kissed her back but otherwise didn't react, though his eyes burned even more. Reaching for his hands, she lifted them and placed them on her breasts, her eyes not leaving his.

"Touch me, Odie."

He swallowed visibly and closed his eyes for a second. "Are you sure? We don't have to do this if you're not ready. We don't-"

"Please," she whispered, leaning into his hands. "I need you."

He let out a ragged breath. "Is it safe?"

Em nodded. "Yes. I took the second dose of the Estralevon today. April 18th. Which means it expires on-"

"-August 18th," they said in unison and smiled weakly at each other.

Brandon crushed her to him suddenly. "Oh, God. Oh, Emerson. We must never let that happen again."

"Never," she repeated. "Never."

"Not until we're both ready. Not until the time is right," he said fervently before his lips reclaimed hers.

His hands found her breasts again, caressing them and squeezing her nipples and Emerson surrendered to him, to everything. Her body seemed to make up for its weeks-long abstinence by being ultra-sensitive so that everywhere he touched immediately burned with a fierce fire. He turned her around so that her back was to his chest and unbuttoned her jeans. She raised her bum so he could push them down her legs along with her knickers and shivered when his fingers trailed up the soft skin of her inner thighs. She moaned loudly when he found her, her hips moving with his hand, his mouth hot against the side of her neck, his other hand alternating between her breasts, every sensation combining, merging, building so that it didn't take long for her to shatter against his expertly probing fingers. She bucked helplessly in his lap, her head thrown back against his shoulder as her cries rang through the cold air and mingled with the sounds of the night.

He held her until she quieted, then pulled her knickers and jeans back up, kissing her softly. Wrapping her trembling legs around his waist, he carried her back inside the cabin and into the bedroom, still kissing her. They made love that night and it was beautiful and tender. They both cried afterwards, acknowledging that another of the first real hurdles to their healing had been surmounted. And when she lay sated and exhausted in his arms, Emerson sent up a silent prayer that they would truly recover and in every way.

He'd been right earlier when he said she still hurt. A part of her would always hurt, would always mourn the loss of something that she hadn't even wanted in the first place, and she doubted that her guilt in that regard would ever really go away. But it was like he'd said, when the time was right and they were ready... someday, dare she hope?

Don't think about that, a voice scolded inside her head. One step at a time, okay?

One step at a time. So, with a sigh, Emerson cuddled closer to the warm body of the man she loved. He dropped a kiss on her still damp forehead and she closed her eyes and drifted peacefully into restful slumber within his embrace.

********
TBC
********

End Notes:

1. Lake Louise is a real lake in Banff National Park in Alberta, Canada. And no, I've never been there. That was a "My family went to ____, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt" experience. They went skiing in that area and I couldn't go because of school. Yeah, sucks, I know, but I'm over it now. A picture of Lake Louise, the glacier and the mountain can be seen here . The word "magnificent" doesn't do it justice.

2. I don't know if the Legend of Lake Louise is a real legend but I distinctly recall reading it in a storybook I had when I was younger. I haven't been able to find it anywhere or online. I memorize the weirdest things.