Destiny knocking on the door

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Eden had only been back in Remiel's life for roughly 3 days and his daily rutines and general mood had skyrocketed in the short time. His walk seemed more bouncy, his eyes seemed brighter and he didn't swear nearly as much as he had become used to - obviously some of these attributes were from spending time in Heaven, but he firmly believed that his life was turning into someting quite somber and happy; a belief he hadn't dreamed of having for about a century.

He had teleported into The King Quarter and slowly walked his way to Eden's home. Through beautiful Victorian buildings and perfect gardens, he'd let the frosty afternoon cool him off and solemnly enjoyed the star speckled night sky. They hadn't set a specific time as to when he was invited to come, but kept it at 'afternoon' but he'd finished his work in the archives early and reached the idyllic house just around 4. The house shone brightly from the amount of angelic auras that continuously were in contact with it and a mild smile graced his bright face as he gently knocked on the front door. Remy glanced sideways down the street, curiously admiring the area.

As he had turned his back to the door to study his surroundings his movements were slightly delayed. He heard the klick of the doorknob before he sensed the aura of the person behind him - the lack of angelic aura making him slightly confused but also making him straighten his back a little more and turn around with a polite smile, ready to -
The voice hit him before he saw her face. The polite smile on his face froze mid turn, faded within milliseconds and got replaced by a slight frown. The warm smile on her lips had his eyebrows furrow deeper. She looked different, he thought, his lips parting slightly as he sized her up, but not different enough. Confused he sent a sideways glare. Was he being set up? He wasn't even listening to the friendly prattle and as a pure reflex, he took a step back, as he turned back to face her.
Remy's eyes shot lightnings and a low thundery rumble echoed from the sky above them, even though no clouds were in sight.
"Ilene," he growled, his voice dangerously low. "I swear to God. If you've harmed as much as one hair on her head I will kill you." Everybody knew that he was not one to throw threats around lightly, especially not like this, not in the name of God, but he didn't hesitate a single second if it had anything to do with Eden's wellbeing.

Remiel saw it all, as he studied her face. Every little muscle twitch, every little micro expression, every little movement; and what he saw made his eyebrows raise slightly upwards in surprise. She seemed genuine. Reading faces and understanding what facial expressions was something he knew well and relied on his entire life. It was ridiculously easy to see when most people lied, the little tells in their behaviour seemed to overshadow everything else with his near perfect eyesight. From panic and angst to angst and confusion to something resembling annoyed acceptance and self-control.
He swallowed, suddenly unsure of himself. This was Ilene wasn't it? The lack of aura confirmed this immediately. It couldn't be something as simple as a doppleganger.
And I would never hurt anyone from this family.
The muscle in his jaw twitched as he silently listened to her, not knowing exactly what to make of it all. He nearly laughed at her when she assumed she'd ever hurt him, but meekly raised an eyebrow at the thought. Though she never tried hurting him - lucky her, that - but it didn't change that he knew exactly what she had done to so many others. What sadistic woman she was deep inside. As she turned her back to him, Remiel hesitantly froze on the doorstep, carefully considering his options. Thirty minutes, she'd said, and then Eden would come home and hopefully explain to him just what on Earth was happening here. A few seconds of not moving a single muscle passed before he clicked his tongue, deciding to enter the beautiful family home of Eden. It felt weirdly invasive to walk in like this, with her not being there and without he husband present. As if he was snooping around. That Ilene was there just made it all feel even the more odd.

"Tea," he replied coarsely, not allowing any ounce of warmth or kindness through his voice, "would be better." He was not about to cloud his mind with whatever strong alcoholic drink she was offering him, and frankly didn't trust that she hadn't spiked the bottle beforehand. At least he would be able to watch as the tea was made.
He closed the door as she asked, not daring to turn his back to her as he did it, and observed her with a lightly tilted head. "Letha," he tried, the name sitting weirdly on his tongue not matching who she was. "Who gave you that name?"
If Remiel was to believe that Ilene had somehow changed or forgotten or transformed in any way, he needed to know more. 30 years was a rather long time and come to think of it he hadn't heard from her in about that amount of years. Curiosity started to tickle his mind and he entered the kitchen room with a straight back, still keeping a distance to her. He was taken aback by tha lack of indifferent flirting and physical touching that he so associated with her. It made him feel uneasy that she behaved so differently but looked so similar. "How do you know Eden?" His voice had turned casual, and he carefully made sure the skeptism had left his eyes, to not tell her just how little he actually believed her little story.

Remy couldn’t help a little snicker. It was strange seeing Eden through somebody else’s eyes - especially considering that she had changed so much since he saw her last. Becoming a mother suited her, no doubt, but there was also a new kind of pressure and a deep sadness he had felt. He wondered silently if Eden had talked with her husband and worked it all out or if in fact she couldn’t take it anymore. He listened to Ilene without moving a muscle, humming in agreement without really taking her mumble seriously.
It means forgetfulness.
Remiel raised his eyebrow at her. He knew the stories well. He had always been incredibly fond of Greek and Roman Mythology and the funny deities that had been created there. Maybe a little less fond of the damned Greeks and their constant hint of the beautiful Nymphs. His heart still ached thinking about the beautiful near-extinct species that Imera had created all those centuries ago and firmly pressed his lips together in a displeased grimace. He couldn’t help a somber smile by the mention of Gaia. Gaea. “Greek goddesses are tricky,” he mused sounding almost nostalgic. “I wouldn’t wish for you that they are involved in this. Not even Gaea.” He knew for a fact that getting help from deities always came with a price. Especially the Greek and Roman ones. That’s why God was so Great he thought with a near-smile. He didn’t ask anything in return. Most of the time at least.

Remiel perked up a little at the mention of Cael. He still had to meet this husband. He was military then. No wonder she had fallen for someone like that; it had always been a little weakness of hers. Fighters. He remembered the sadness after the Second World War where she had lost a loved one and felt a burst of happiness knowing that she at least had found new love. It was rare, he thought, to find love more than once. He sent her a surrendering smile; his first genuine one the whole time he’d been there. This Letha sounded the absolute and complete opposite of Ilene.
“Have you gone to see any witches yet? Maybe they can help boost your memory,” he offered mildly. He wasn’t sure she would want to, obviously. Her old life had been much more different and frankly she had been a horrible person. Perhaps she was better off not knowing. He still wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not but for now he gave her the benefit of the doubt. Her little flutter of hope was genuine at least.
Remy knitted his eyebrows as her cheeks flushed. Wait. What?! By God! She was in love with Eden’s kid? He must’ve looked absolutely horrified by the thought for a second, but quickly pulled himself together and changed his facial expression to something more ... curious. “I still have to meet this young man,” he said with a soft edge to hit voice. “He sounds like quite the Angel.”

Remy nodded as a thank you, a little tight lipped but without the spitefulness he had shown earlier. He reached out, cupping his hands around the mug to warm up his hands a little. His vigilant gaze didn't leave her for a second, and followed her
"That's good," he mumbled, a little taken aback by her loving tone. He had never ever heard her this softly spoken before. Maybe she wasn't playing pretend after all. How very curious. Eden is a good mother. His jaw tensed slightly, regarding her a little more intensely. She had a child. Ilene had a child. Leigh. And by the Devil had she been a horrendously terrible mother to him. The mere thought of what that boy had been through, growing up, made him nauseous and he scolded at the drink in his hand, as though the perfumed tea was to blame for him feeling a little sick. "Protective is good. Protecting your family is the most important thing," he said solemnly, raising his eyes to meet hers again. She looked the same. So much that it was hard for him to even contemplate that she possibly spoke the truth. Something very powerful must have happened if it was to be believed.

He blinked innocently as her voice pulled him back from the whirlwind of thoughts he'd been caught up in momentarily. His eyebrows furrowed slightly at her question. Was he to reply in honesty? Would the world be a better place without Ilene? Yes, it very much would. Did that mean that this new version of her would turn just as terrible as her former self? Not necessarily. "Truthfully," he replied hesitantly. "It wouldn't be for me to say. I'm sorry to inform you that the world would be a better one without her; but it will be difficult to run away from the life she led." He finally took a sip of the fragrant tea before placing it back on the table. "You have a lot of enemies."

Would people kill me if I ever turned into this Ilene person again?
Remy couldn’t help but tense his jaw at the question. He had always taken pride in being an honest person; she would also know that if she had remembered her life. His own best friend was the archangel of truth after all; a best friend she had once been with. The thought made him wince in disgust. He looked away to consider the question.
“I think,” he started a little hesitantly. “That a lot of people would want to kill you regardless. You were not exactly trustworthy and a lot of bad people probably wouldn’t believe your story.” The last bit turned into a mumble. That had been his own reaction at least; that it could not be possible. He furrowed his eyebrows lightly, flashing a weak, apologetic smile at her. "It really is a wonder nobody has taken advantage of it and that you're still alive," he admitted, finally raising his cup to his lips, taking a small sip of the fragrant tea. Eden always did have a great taste in tea and he tool a short moment to savour the flavours before moving his eyes back on Ilene. Letha, he quickly reminded himself. Letha.  

Remy nearly spat out the hot tea. He raised a hand to his mouth and coughed into it, trying to hide his evident surprise. Joe and her had been the worst thing to ever happen and Remy had not spoken to his old friend for many hundred years after all that had happened. Somehow he always ended up forgiving the damned Siphoner over and over again, but he preferred to never think about those dark times ever again, because it made him realise how ridiculous he was being, throwing forgiveness around like it was as simple as water.
He blinked rapidly. What was he supposed to reply to this?
"Joseph, you say?" He asked, his voice turning suspiciously high pitched at the end. "Why, what do you remember about him?" He tried for an innocent smile but was certain that the fear must be shining through his eyes. He nodded very slowly. "You were born Revna," he mumbled, looking down into his cup of tea. "A very, very, very long time ago in Scandinavia." He kept his eyes down. The witch had done what she had thought best to protect her village but it had turned fatal and most of the original vampires had all turned into absolutely disastrous beings; forgotten what they had been created for to begin with. Protection.

Remy's mouth pulled gently upwards to the right in a wry smile; a smile that this time reached his eyes and made them glisten in with warmth. He nodded to her in appreciation of her acknowledgement at his honesty. Not all would have taken his words as kindly as she seemed to be.
She was rather lucky with her lack of aura and particular smell. Perhaps that was exactly what had kept her alive all these years; the little privacy that would come with it. Hard to track and hard to recognise. She did however have a memorable face and although one could perhaps think she would be a doubbleganger of sorts, the lack of aura would very quickly diminish that thought. It was a very particular thing to be in a room with someone you couldn't sense.

Remy looked up at her.
Yeah Joseph.
It really was a nightmare feeling he would get when thinking of Joe and Ilene, and a light shutter ran through his body and made the small hairs on his neck perk up.  
"When was this?" He asked softly and lowered his eyes back into his cup of tea. He so desperately wanted to believe that Joseph could change, and every time he started feeling like perhaps his words had an impact on the Siphoner, he'd get new information and feel utterly ridiculous for believing in the goodness he could possess.
He raised his eyes again, as his words clearly had had a big impact. She didn't know? His face softened up remarkably, knowing he would be the one to tell her. A special moment, he thought, but with a lot of pressure.
"Letha," he replied; for the first time with a hint of the softness that his voice was known to portray when he spoke; and for the first time using her new name properly. "You are one of the first pureblood vampires."
There was no gentle way of telling anyone that, he thought to himself, and so he'd chosen to be straight forward. She deserved that, if she was to understand who she had used to be, who she could become again and what history she was carrying with her. She had already branded him honest; and honest was one of the biggest compliments he could think of. He wasn't going to betray that trust already.
Remy shifted uncomfortably in his chair before getting up and walking around the table. He lowered himself into a squat and placed his hand on her shoulder, allowing his warm aura to reach through his fingertips.
"I know too much about your old life. I understand if you don't want to know about it but know that I'm here if you have questions, okay?"

Truly 9000 years was nothing compared to his own many hundred thousand years of age, but it had never made him insensitive towards how long a year could feel; especially not when you thought of lost years. 9000 years was a few lifetimes ago, he thought, and he had reinvented himself a million times over during that time. Staying the same at heart, but growing with time and learning from mistakes. Things Letha very obviously currently felt robbed of.
Letha's calm, grey eyes reached him and the gratitude was ever so obvious. A gratitude Remy felt entirely undeserving of. He gently lowered his head in a nod; a small, gentle smile tugging faintly in the corners of his mouth. He took the gratitude with calm acceptance, knowing it would only make him look falsely humble if he was to insist that he didn't deserve her thankfulness. He had after all done nothing and had not exactly been kind when they had met. He also still had a nagging doubt that he constantly had to forcefully push away when he looked at her.

"Of course," he replied. Her hesitance was understandable. He thought to himself that he would probably not have wanted to know anything, if he had been in her place, but truly you'd never know if you weren't in the position yourself. It would take strength and conviction to not buckle under the temptation of knowing who you had been.
Remy raised himself back up, grabbing backwards to drag the chair closer to her, so he could sit in front of her, close enough by if she was to pass out or feel nauseous again. Instead she seemed to gently get a hold of herself and breath in before talking a little more clearly than before. He hummed in disapproval at the story about Joe, shaking his head in disbelief as she told him. In the back of a bloody car. He licked his lips.
"Trying to understand anything Joe does," he spoke slowly as he carefully selected his words to her. "Is admittedly as good as impossible." With an apologetic smile he reached his hand out for her to grab. "He was good once," he said gently. "Much like Ilene was. And just like you I believe he could be good again. I'm sorry you had to go through that."