The Forsaken Keeper: Memories Unraveled

Chapter 3

"i would say all of this, but i don't want to ruin the moment. lovely to sit between comfort and chaos" - ceilings by lizzy mcalpine

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Sebastian looked up in the dimly lit room. Rosalind's breathing had evened out. She had fallen asleep again while he was reading.

The fire was almost out, casting dramatic shadows throughout the room. Rosalind moved, turning fully around on the couch. The blanket fell, and he watched her shiver.

Adding more wood to the fire first, he walked around the table to fix the blanket for her. With more light in the room, he could see the shirt had ridden up on her.

Merlin this woman. She still was oblivious to the effect she had on him. Standing in front of him with nothing but one of his shirts on, hair dripping, asking for help.

He couldn't stay mad at her, no matter how much he tried. Not when she sat in front of him, eyes closed, her scent of rain and lilies washing over him, while he continued to heal her shoulder.

When he was getting this place ready for them, he had put a mixture of clothes from her house and new ones Anne helped him get. He hadn't given her any clothes of his on purpose, but one of his shirts must've made its way to her dresser. She was practically swimming in it, yet it somehow fit her perfectly.

He pulled the blanket back up over her exposed legs. Memories flooding his mind as he pushed her still damp hair out of her face. They had made a lot of progress with each other.

Sure, she still snapped at him occasionally. Well, often. He would be an idiot to assume she wouldn't. But she was talking to him more, actively coming to him for help. It wasn't much, but it was something.

With the images of the last time he had helped her with a bath fresh in his mind, he knew he wasn't falling back asleep any time soon. He picked up the journal he was reading from earlier when she first came out.

Most of the things he was reading were different books and medical journals Julian found. If he wasn't focused on looking into something for Odette, he was looking into memory focused spells.

Since he had no idea what type of spell they used on Rosalind, whether they changed her existing memories as they were or erased them before planting new ones, it was hard to find the correct counterspell.

If there was a counter spell.

His eyes were unfocused on the page in front of him. His mind tired but racing of all the things she no longer remembered. What if there were parts of her life they altered that none of them could confirm the truth for her?

He put the book down again. Reading wasn't going to do him much help tonight. He stood up, making his way towards the kitchen. He thought about making tea, but didn't want the noise of the kettle to wake up Rosalind.

Reaching for one of the top cabinets, he pulled out a bottle of fire whiskey. He didn't bother to pour it into a glass. He was the only one who ever dranks from it. The cabinet was locked with magic, so Rosalind couldn't get into it.

Odette had told him once briefly how Rosalind drinks. She would typically turn to that if she had no other way to escape her feelings. And being there was nothing for her to do here, he didn't want to risk it.

He stood by the counter, seeing her even breathing on the couch from there. Taking another swig from the bottle, he let the memories pour over him.

Seeing her for the first time fifth year. All their adventures. Losing her the first time. Seeing her again after all these years. Finding her again. Making love to her. Finding out about her past. Losing her again, before realizing how much he truly lost her. Up to the night she tried to kill him.