Third Time's a Charm

Third Time's a Charm

Marron and Milphey lie in bed, Marron on his side with Milphey pressed up against his back. Both were fairly content with the situation, though Milphey hoped that some day their relationship would move on to the next level. It had been so long…

"Milphey?" Marron suddenly asked.

"Yes?"

"I have to ask. How old are you? I know you're older than you look, but I don't know how old you really are."

"Hm. If you must know, I'm four hundred and twenty-seven."

A jolt ran through Marron's body. "You're that old?" he finally asked.

"I have no reason to lie," Milphey pointed out logically, and the silence fell again. Until Marron again broke it.

"If you've been around that long, I know I can't be the first person you've ever loved, can I?" he shyly inquired.

His response was Milphey sliding his arms from around him and climbing out of the bed. Marron rolled over and looked at him. Milphey was straightening his clothes with short, jerky motions, obviously agitated.

"Did I say something wrong? What's bothering you?"

Milphey looked at him and smiled sweetly. "It's nothing you said. Don't worry about it. I just need some time to think."

"Is one of your past lovers still alive? Is that the problem?"

"In a way. He's alive, but he doesn't remember anything of it."

Marron's intuition led him to his next question. "Have you known me before? In one of my past lives, that is?" Milphey's bitter smile told him the answer. "Were we lovers?"

"Marron, I don't really want to talk about this right now. I'll tell you when I can deal with it, okay? For now, please don't ask me any more questions about it," Milphey pleaded.

Marron nodded. "I understand. Tell me when you're ready." As Mille was turning to leave the room, the young mage lurched forward and caught his hand. Milphey looked down at him and Marron smiled up at him. "I love you," he said, simply. Milphey kissed him, then left.

Memories plagued Mille Feuille. Long buried memories of black hair and pale skin. Sometimes the skin was slightly sunburned, other times it was barely tan, but mostly it was milky white. The black hair was sometimes long, sometimes short, sometimes pure black and sometimes streaked with a sparkling silver. But the eyes never changed. Those soulful golden eyes that had bored into his so many times they had made a permanent imprint on his heart. Those eyes that hid the same soul every time, only different personalities. Three different men, all the same, all loved by him.

He had never hated his near immortality more than he did at that moment. Not even when… Milphey shook his head vehemently. The past was past and now his love was back again. He had another chance. Maybe things would end happily for them for once. He could only hope.

When Milphey returned to the house, where they were still staying at Onion's behest, he set about finding Marron immediately. He ignored the dirty look he got from Carrot, and the wistful glance from Gateau. They weren't important at the moment. Only Marron was.

"Wait for a moment, old friend," a voice interrupted his search.

Milphey turned around to face Onion. "Yes?"

"Are you going to tell him? About your past together?"

"I have to eventually, so why not today?"

Onion smiled at him. "I have a feeling things will be different this time."

"I sure hope so!" Milphey laughed as he turned back in search of his love. It didn't take him long to find him. He was sitting outside in the back, a pad of sketch paper in front of him, drawing Tira. The picture was good, and promised to become better with practice. He wasn't surprised, considering he had been an excellent artist before as well.

"Hello, Milphey," Tira said politely, favoring him with a smile.

"Hello, Tira."

"Do you need to talk to Marron, alone?"

"That would be nice."

Marron spoke up for the first time. "You're going to have to wait a few minutes, as much as I hate to say it. I'd really like to finish this drawing, then you can have my full attention."

"That's fine with me," Milphey agreed amiably, sitting down to watch.

It only took about thirty minutes for Marron to finish. He tore the page out of the book and handed it to Tira who exclaimed over how good it was for a while before running inside to show Chocolat, whom she assured Marron would want her portrait done as well.

"Sorry that took so long," Marron apologized.

"Don't worry about it. I love watching you draw."

"Are you going to tell me about when you knew me in my past lives, now?"

"Yes."

"Ah." Marron shifted in his chair so he was more comfortable, folding his hands and placing them in his lap.

"We've known each other twice before this," Milphey confessed. "And there has been something between us each time."

"I see," was all Marron replied.

Realizing he wasn't going to say any more, Milphey launched into the story. "Four hundred and some years ago, when I was actually sixteen, I knew a young man named Tayvan. Tay and I grew very close, and eventually became lovers. He had the most beautiful long black hair." Milphey smiled slightly, "Which was why I made such a fuss when he suddenly cut it all off. That was one of our worst fights. Anyway, to make a long story short, we lived our lives out together. The years passed and neither of us showed any signs of aging outside of the brilliant silver streaks that developed in his black hair. It never even turned completely silver. So, you can imagine my surprise when, after returning from a visit to my family, I came home to find my lover dead in our bed."

Marron was looking down at his clasped hands, his black hair falling around him, obscuring his face so Milphey couldn't even guess at what he was thinking. All he had left to do was continue.

"I was near inconsolable. That was when Mother found me and explained that I was immortal. It was centuries before I recovered. It was only a hundred years ago that I was walking through a marketplace when I saw you again. You were slightly sunburned and laughing, totally uncharacteristic of you, and your hair was short like your brothers, but it was you. Your brother was there, and so were the girls. Even Gateau. So, I did something stupid. I rushed up to you and latched on, unwilling to let you go again. The only problem was, you didn't remember anything about me. That was awkward, I assure you. But it all turned out well, for a while. Then, before we could become lovers, you died in an accident. I lost you again. And here you are, for the third time, and here I am, putting my heart on the line again."

"I see," Marron said quietly, still focused on his hands. "No wonder you get so melancholy sometimes when you stare at me."

"That may have something to do with it."

Finally Marron looked up, and the look in those golden eyes took Mille's breath away. "This time will be different. I promise."

Milphey blinked back tears. "How do you know?"

Marron stood and walked over to his love, sitting next to him and enfolding him in his arms, pulling Milphey's head onto his shoulder. "I've already died in this lifetime, and I came back. I don't know how I can explain it, but I think something happened then. I'm not sure I can die anymore."

Milphey clasped the fabric of Marron's robes tightly. "I couldn't stand to lose you again."

"Then you won't have to." And that was all that needed to be said.

Notes: The characters are still not mine, though I dearly wish they were….

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