Coral

I can't fight this feeling any longer

And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow

What started out as friendship, has grown stronger

I only wish i had the strength to let it show



I tell myself that I can't hold out forever

I said there is no reason for my fear

Cause i feel so secure when we're together

You give my life direction

You make everything so clear



And I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

It's time to bring this ship into the shore

And throw away the oars, forever--







---





Are those your eyes



Is that your smile



Ive been looking at you forever



Yet I never saw you before



Are these your hands holding mine



Now I wonder how I could have been so blind



And for the first time I am looking in your eyes



For the first time I'm seeing who you are



I cant believe how much I see



When you're looking back at me



Now I understand what love is, love is



For the first time

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Tadeusz was fine enough company, and the week had been both educational and entertaining, ( things had changed somewhat in the last fifteen years, Edward had to admit.) but Edward was happy to be returning home. He found himself to be rather amusing; married less than two years and already unable to stay away from home longer than a week. It was difficult to remember being married to Dinah, but he knew that he had never, not even in the first months, been wrapped so tightly around her fingers as he was around Amanda's.

He fell through Eloise's floo in the early afternoon, attempting to appear as nonchalant as possible. He brushed soot and ashes from the velvet coat-sleeves, and rang the bell to announce his arrival. Eloise came bustling in, her glasses pushed up into her hair, and a stern expression on her still handsome face. In her hands she grasped a handful of what looked to be invitations.

" Edward. What do you want?" she demanded.

" Good afternoon Eloise, and how are you?" he answered. " Yes it is a lovely day."

She glowered.

" I was hoping to find Amanda." he continued, when she did not answer.

" She isn't here."

" Well, where is she? She was supposed to stay here!"

" Stella escorted her home this morning. She said she had some things to do before you returned." she half turned to leave, then halted, as if waiting for him to say something else. She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

He took her ill-disguised hint, excused himself, and flooed home.

He hurried out of his own floo in the study calling her name. There was no answer at first. Climbing part way up the stairs, he called again,and was relieved to hear her slightly chipper voice sounding from the second bedroom. Pushing open the door, he found the chamber to be seemingly empty of Amanda. There was however, several cartons stacked in there that had not been there before, a set of new white curtains, and the door to the attic was open.

Curious, he lifted the flap to one of the boxes and peered within. It was full of Amanda's sewing items, such as her tapestry box, envelope patterns, and rolls of material. Letting the flap close, he turned to eye the bed with weariness. He remembered well enough that it had a very comfortable feather mattress, and he was incredibly tempted to stretch out across the white coverlet.

The bed was a family heirloom, his grandmothers, his mother's, and for a brief time, Dinah's. He had moved it into this room, believing that Amanda would not want to start her married life sleeping in her predecessor's bed. He heard her step overhead, then on the narrow attic stair. in a moment, she appeared, her arm's full of what looked to be white linens. Espying him, she dropped the linens onto the nearest box, and with a Cheshire cat grin, lifted the hem of her skirt and charged him.

He didn't have time to brace himself, and when she collided with him, there was a moment of helpless flailing before they sank backward into the soft mattress. Had she no mercy for someone who was old and tired? Apparently not. She only smiled down at him saucily and stated nonchalantly:

" I missed you."

He smiled in a satisfied way.

" I believe you know how I felt as well."

She thought of the large handful of letters stuffed into her letter box. All admitting that he was in want of her company.

" How was the convention?"

" Conventional." he replied. She nudged him in mock irritation." But I enjoyed it, all the same. "

" Was it cold?"

" Yes. In fact it was. " he was growing suspicious of her smiling teeth. She was up to something. " Where is your mother? She didn't leave you here alone did she?"

" She is in the hothouse admiring my cannas."

" And what is that you are doing? Sewing room...?" he had seen Eloise's treadle sewing machine resting in the corner on a white table.

" No. Bedroom. I thought it could use some freshening up."

" Oh..." he wondered for whom the bedroom was intended, or if it was an idle whim.

Seeing his change of expression, she raised up slightly.

" Am I too heavy?"

" No! I was only resting. "

She escaped him and stood, smoothing out the front of her mauve dress. She held out a hand to dissuade him from rising as well.

" You rest. I am going to go tell mother that you're back. Surely she is bored with the cannas by now, and wants to go home. "

" She might not want to go home just yet...Eloise seemed to be in a mood."

" Yes." Amanda laughed. " That is why we've come here for the afternoon."

She quickly retied her hair with a length of white ribbon, and hurried from the room. He noted with satisfaction that she looked better. She was still alarmingly thin, and rather pale, but the lackluster and apathetic posture had nearly vanished, replaced with the straight shoulders and graceful step of before.

He contemplated falling asleep as she suggested, but decided in favor of dinner instead.He had noted on his way through the downstairs that something very fragrant was simmering in the kitchen. He could never be sure what it might be, since Polly's unfortunate demise, there had been a unique variety of dishes from Amanda's collection of American cookbooks which were most always pleasurably palatable, though sometimes quite spicy. It had to be better however than the bland fare offered at the convention.

He found Amanda and Stella in the kitchen; Amanda stirring a pan of something red, and Stella preparing to leave, her arms filled with herb bundles and shoots. She gave him a vague acknowledgment on her way out.

As soon as Stella was gone, Edward took from his pocket a small parcel, and placed it in Amanda's palm.

" A souvenir." he said simply.

Unwrapping the tissue paper carefully, she discovered what must be the world's tiniest piano!

" Oh! Edward...it's so small!" she practically squealed. Indeed it was small, it could rest with care, on one of her fingers, and comfortably on two fingers. Intricately carved with a shameless amount of scrolls and fleur-de-lys, it was a perfect miniature, right down to it's 88 ivory keys.

He lifted it carefully from her hand and sat it on the table. Taking from his pocket a silver device that looked like a steel crochet hook, but was the size of a large straight pin, he touched one of the keys,. A crystalline note rang truly through the room.

" That's impossible!" she murmured, taking the pin from him. " How can it play notes, when it is so tiny?"

Every whisper light tap of the hook struck a note from the minuscule instrument, much to her sheer delight.

" It's magic Amanda. " he said.

" It's beautiful!"

" The company creates them in full scale...if you turn it this way you can see the company's seal...then they shrink them. The Sforzando's were the first to accomplish this. Even now, no other miniaturists can compete."

" Thank you so much!...I'll have to think of something to give you in return." she smiled coyly.

" I would be satisfied hearing you play something on it."

" I don't know if I could...nothing complex at least. "

" Then play something simple, and after dinner, I'd be charmed to hear the complex extent of your talent on the real piano."

Blushing, she gripped the silver hook tightly, noticing that it had filigree designs along it's handle to match the piano, and carefully began picking out "Sweet Afton". It was slow and halting, the hook kept threatening to slip form the keys. But the notes were so pure and so sad that it made the effort worth the price.

When she finished, she exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and smiled.

" It was made for soft songs."

" Indeed. And Burns, or at least that Burns, is very soft."

" I always had a fondness for it...perhaps because my father named me Mary."

" I've often wondered why you weren't called by that name."

" It was a family name. There were four Mary's already." she said sadly. " I always regretted that. Amanda was such a...modern name."

" Amanda is a lovely name. You give it a grace and class it seldom achieves, I believe."

She ran the hook idly down the tiny keys, and shivered at the sound of the delicate scales climbing impossibly higher.

" What are you thinking? " he asked.

" That it looks to be made for the faeries to play on. I'm afraid of breaking it!"

" Impossible. The spells cast to protect it are so strong you could stand on it to dust the curtains and it wouldn't even bow."

She clutched it close to her chest. " You aren't serious!"

" I am. I'll even show you, if you doubt me."

" No! No, let me just place it on the curio shelf! Where it will be safe! And I can enjoy it while I play!"

He laughed.

" Very well. We'll place it there, and then have dinner. I have many things to tell you."

" I'm eager to hear them. "



Over dinner he told her everything about the convention. There seemed to be a lot more to relate in retrospect, mostly things that Taduesz had said, or done that he found to be particularly amusing. Also a wonderfully detailed description of the architecture, and layout of the city, both Muggle and Wizarding. He mentioned that he was even considering attending next year as well, and she agreed it was a good idea.

He had just launched into the best part, the part about Fala and his crow familiar, when he remembered the gift.

He frowned suddenly, and dropped his fork.

" Anything the matter?" she asked.

" I forgot..." he was patting down his numerous pockets. " How could I forget? It must be the Apparation...took seventeen points to return...where is that thing?"

He muttered to himself as he rummaged, pulling out all manner of papers and booklets, keys, spectacles, a watch fob, a half-eaten bag of Every Flavor Beans, some coins, owl treats, and the twig from the oak tree. He placed all of this on the table, and resumed his treasure hunt. At last he discovered Fala's gift. He had enlarged his watch pocket to make room for it, so he could be certain it would be safe.

" Quickest way to loose something is to put it away." he commented with irritation at himself. " Here, Fala sent this to you."

Amanda drew back her hand instinctively.

" To...to me? What is it?"

" Take it. It's a sort of... bag, I think. A very strange gift, a bag."

" Is...it safe?"

" Quite."

She uncurled her fingers again, allowing him to pass the bag across. It was heavy, and smelled strongly of oiled leather, herbs, and smoke. Immediately, Amanda felt a sense of peace and protection course through her, strong enough to make her flinch.

" What is it?" he demanded.

" Nothing. It's just strong. I see...it is a type of amulet. " she turned it over delicately and examined the beadwork. " Smoked deerskin. Smoking it not only preserves it, but makes it especially supple. "

" He said it must not be opened." Edward stated, intrigued by her familiarity with the object.

" Of course." she held it up and inhaled deeply. " Sage. Mmmm."

" You don't seem very surprised."

" Oh. Well, my father had a number of things like this. Medicine bags, peace-pipes and such. He had quite a collection of what he called American traditional items. What my grandmother called 'whimsy'. Rattlesnake rattles, totems, bone necklaces. All manner of amulets and folk talismans. This is very lovely craftsmanship, but I don't understand why this man...Fala , would send such a powerful thing? He isn't anyone that I know."

"He said he saw the need in a vision. Perhaps it is because you and he are originated from the same country, and perhaps share a spiritual kinship.He spoke of a great many things like that. He said you would know it's magic. He said that you have bad dreams."

Amanda tucked the thing into her pocket.

"Perhaps you're right and I absorbed more about such things than I knew, from my father. Tell me more about him, and his wands." she delicately avoided the subject of her dreams, and he chose not to pursue it.

Instead, he completed the story over the last of the main course ( and was pleased to see she was just as impressed as he himself had been), and the conversation did not exhaust itself to well into what he considered a remarkably delicious dessert. After she had taken a few small disinterested bites of this dessert, she lay down her napkin, and sat back.

" May I tell you something now?" she asked at last, fidgeting with the tablecloth.

" Of course."

" You won't be upset?"

" I...wouldn't expect to be so, why?"

" Well, I have been debating whether or not to mention it, right away...but I really can't see stalling. You see...I'm pregnant."

He froze, his glass lifted halfway to his lips, his eyes large and almost completely silver over the rim.

She waited expectantly, her brows raised in much the same way Eloise's had been earlier. Swallowing, and slowly lowering the glass, he cleared his throat.

" Well..." was all he could manage at first. This was an awkward and unexpected announcement, after the drama of last year. The first words that came to his mind were " So soon?'' and " Are you certain?" both of which seemed not only insensitive, but foolish.

" Well..." he said for the second time, rolling the idea around in his mind.

" Well..." she repeated, smiling slightly.

" Well. Well."

" Well...?" she gave slight smile.

" Well! " there was a decided twinkle in his eye.

They sat for a few more moments, watching the candles burn down. Edward drank wine, while she drank water and waited patiently for him to express his opinion. She could see the same thoughts and concerns on his face that had been plaguing her since she discovered her condition.

At last he reached across the table and took her hand, gently, it was the hand that had yet to properly heal, and gave it a soft caress.

" It's going to be all right this time, isn't it?" more of an optimistic statement, than a question.

She smiled brilliantly.

" I believe so...completely."

" Then this is wonderful news." he smiled. " How are you feeling?"

" Very well. I almost didn't notice...as I felt so well." She blushed slightly.

" We'll do everything to take care of you both, Amanda..." he said gently. She nodded understandingly.

The evening ended quietly. They left the table and retired to the parlor, where she had to hide a smile of amusement as he carefully seated her at the piano, then pulled one of the straight-backed side chairs close by for himself. She started by playing " Sweet Afton ," once more, letting the mellow notes caress the room.

He listened to the music, and thought about life, and how strange it could be. It never seemed so strange as in the late evening, by candlelight. Perhaps because that was when dreams were the nearest at hand. The piano was soft and sleepy, a veritable blanket over his tumultuos emotions. What did the feel? Sometimes it was nothing at all...and then again it was everything all at once. For too long it had been easy to not have to bother with his feelings, but now they were being re-hatched for his enjoyment.

He felt terror keener than everything else. He had decided that Amanda was a something too precious to lose, and yet didn't this place her somewhat in danger? Certainly, Demogene was no longer a threat...the poor crazed soul, but who else might be? Not to mention the natural dangers involved without outside influence.

Yet he was pleased at the same time, and felt for the first time an excitement at the prospect of being a father once more. This wouldn't be Elias, this would be Amanda's child. His child. Theirs together, and that was powerful thought that needed much examination.

Gazing at her as she played, he thought that she was lovely enough that it hurt to look upon her for too long. Had he never noticed before how long and graceful her fingers were, with their little oval nails? He thought her hair once to be a little too orange, a sort of burnt color...but now it looked luxuriant and rich as it fell down her narrow back. Once she turned and gave a small smile as she began a trickling set of notes, and as he met her agate grey eyes, he realized that for someone with no magic, she was the most bewitching thing in the entire house.
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I can't fight this feeling-Reo Speedwagon



The first time-Rod Stewart