Disclaimer: all names and places blong to the world of the Black Jewels created and published by Anna Bishop.

R&R always welcome. the major part of this stoy is compleated and in my notebook so should post quickly. so enjoy and grab a tissue the first few chapters are a bit sniffly

500 years ago

Daemon Sadi laid on his bed holding his wife of more than fifty years. Her once blond hair now was silver and tiny lines formed around her eyes. Even now, he thought she looked beautiful, even now, he couldn't bare to let go. Her body was dying and they all knew it. They all knew this day would come and thought they had prepared well for it, though nothing could prepare any of them for losing her.

Jaenelle looked up at him, her deep sapphire eyes glistening, she had an idea. One last small idea to help the man she loved. In a horse whisper, she began to speak, "The body is dying… I am not."

He wouldn't cry, or at least not while she could see him. With a forced smile and stopping the sobs that were caught in his throat, he tried to respond, "I know sweetheart."

If she were years younger she would have pinned him to the bed, but she didn't have the strength for that now. Again, she looked into his eyes, this time deep chasms laid in hers. Speaking in her midnight voice or at least trying to she said again, "No, the husk is dying, I am not."

If it was the tone of her voice or the conviction of it he didn't know, but it did snap his attention. In fifty years, he knew what that tone meant… it meant he would be in the High Lord's study trying to explain one of her spells. He welcomed that. "Tell me what you need sweetheart."

Everything had a price, she didn't want him to pay it but she needed his strength. "I need your strength Daemon, just this once."

Time was running out he could hear it in her voice, felt it as her heart was slowing. No hesitation, "Take what you need, anything you need."

He felt her rub lightly against his inner barrier; quickly he opened them allowing her every bit of strength he could give her. Swirling mist surrounded him taking him down to their special place. One last time, or so he thought, he stood in front of Witch.

Her hooves clicked on the stone ground as she approached him. Here she was as she had always been, as she had been the first time he had been brought here and as she had been for all their years together… here, she was ageless. Quietly she spoke, "I can stay here Prince. I can hold this place till I can find a husk that can hold me."

The possibilities swarmed his mind. One thing stuck out…. The family would kill him if they knew. "What do you need sweetheart. Tell me. Anything I can do…" he was rambling and for once didn't care.

"Papa is going to be so mad."

"I'll handle it." Besides he wasn't worried about his father he was worried about their children. Two black jeweled queens who were very gifted black widows, each who ruled Ebon Askivi , each having one realm of the living. Then there was their son, not his mirror but his mother's, a black widow and a very snarly over protective war lord prince and still a full year from being able to make the offer to the dark.

"Daemon you can't tell them. Not till I'm sure I can really do this."

He ran his fingers down the side of her face and very honestly said, "Darling I have no intention of telling any of them. Not till I can hold you in my arms both here and in our bed."

She just stood there for a moment with a black stare on her face before she blinked. "You're bad at acting…"

"M not." He let his lips touch hers, he wouldn't pass up a chance to kiss her not now. Not when he didn't really know if he would ever again.

Dismissing his now childlike behavior, she continued, "In a few days the spell will begin. Until then grieve or at least look like you are."

"And then?" reasonable question so why did he regret asking it?

Witch turned from him, "Here everything will be as it is now, but when you're awake…"

"Sweetheart what is it?"

"Leiah and Cordilia they won't be able to help."

"Help with what?"

"I need you to be my eyes and ears Daemon. I need to know what is happening without drawing suspicion."

"It will appear that I broke my chalice?" he said in a little too much of a matter-of-fact voice.

"You don't…"

With a shrug he shattered any thought she was having, "If we weren't having this conversation I would have any ways. Both Lucivar and father knew or know."

Annoyed she turned back to him. "You wouldn't" not a question more of a command.

"I would. 1700 years of searching for you, and knowing that I was born to be your lover." He paused long enough to take a breath, "Fifty years just isn't long enough."