Traveling To Be With You
Cassandra Sunn

Story Rating: PG-13 for homosexuality and language.

Chapter Rating: PG for complicated language.

Story Genre: Romance/Humour.

Chapter Genre: Tragedy.

Summery: Nicolas had a wonderful life. But suddenly, it was all taken away from him. Now, he is searching the years for his lost love. But what he finds is not quite what he thought he would.

Disclaimer: None needed.

Warnings: Elizabethan English ahead!

Mindless Dribble: Shmoo, shmaa, schlip, schlap.

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Chapter One: Losing Is Hard
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Nicolas felt like the luckiest person on the planet. He was only twenty-three and already he had met and married the woman of his dream. His darling Jenny was currently in the next room, giving birth to their first child. 1605 was a wonderful year to be born. King James was on the throne, England was powerful, and the theater was thriving.

“Nicolas?” a voice interrupted his thoughts. It was Grace, Nicolas’s nineteen year old sister.

“How doth my lady fare?” Nicolas asked.

“She fares well,” Grace replied. “She requests that thou join her and thy new daughter.”

A daughter! Nicolas was a father! He quickly followed Grace to Jenny’s bed. Jenny looked up at him. She grasped his hand tightly.

“What name shall thee give thy daughter?” the midwife asked. She handed the small bundle of blankets to Nicolas.

“Her name shall be Victoria,” Jenny said, exhaustion in her voice. Nicolas smiled. Victoria had been his mother’s name. A wonderful woman, but she had died four years ago.

“Victoria,” Nicolas repeated. He gazed lovingly at the chubby pink face of the newborn. “Do this name proud, my child, for ‘tis a great privilege to possess it.”

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Three months later, Nicolas did not feel lucky at all. He stood, silent, not knowing what to say or do. Jenny wept and wailed over the coffin. Nicolas turned his head. He could not bear to see his wife in this state. Nor could he bear to see the coffin placed into the ground. He pulled Jenny towards him as she attempted to take back the tiny box.

“Oh, God, why?” she yelled. “What have we done to upset Thee? Wherefore doth Thou take our child from us?” She collapsed to her knees, shaking from the sobs, continuing tho ask God why. She threw herself forward when the men began throwing dirt into the grave. Rose, Jenny’s twin sister, helped Nicolas pull Jenny back. She went limp in Nicolas’s arms. She buried her face into his chest. “Oh, my Nicolas, what shall we do? Our Victoria is gone! And I know not wherefore.”

“My love,” Nicolas began, not knowing exactly what to say. “My dearest Jenny. I wish I could tell thee a soft word to calm the raging tempest of thine eyes.” He hesitated, not sure where to go from there.

Rose understood. “Good sister, do not fret. We can be happy in knowing that, as she was so young, dear Victoria had no sins and is therefore in Heaven.”

Jenny nodded and allowed herself to be led away.

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Two months later, tragedy struck again. Jenny fell ill and the doctors and the doctors could not figure out what was wrong with her. She was tired all day and was forced to stay in bed. If she left, she would grow dizzy and pass out. She had little appetite and could not keep down anything she ate. Nicolas asked everyone he met if they knew what he could do. No one was able to answer until a month after Jenny had gotten sick.

A strange man approached Nicolas. “Good sir, a moment of your time.”

Nicolas nodded. “Yes, what can I do for thee?”

“I have heard that thy wife is ill and bedridden.”

“That is true. Dost thou know of what she suffers from? Or dost thou know a cure?”

“I fear I do not know of what she suffers, but I can tell thee a way to save thy wife.”

“Oh, heavens above, dost thou speak true?”

“I speak only truth, for lies oft get thee in Hell.”

“Yes, yes. Forgive my rudeness, but please tell me of the cure.”

“Of course, sir. But first, let us go into this bar. I am weary with travel and fear my legs will soon betray me.”

They entered the bar and sat at a table. After ordering drinks for the both of them, the man was ready to talk.

“There is a woman,” he said. “A woman like no other. She can cure any illness the body has. Some call her a witch. That may be true, I know not. But she saved my brother from an early grave.”

“A witch?” Nicolas exclaimed softly. “Oh, good sir, to tamper with the black arts has a price I’d rather not pay. Doth thou know of another way?”

“I fear I do not.”

“I see.” Nicolas stood. “I thank thee for thy advice. I’m afraid I cannot consort with those the devil deems friends.”

“Think of thy wife, sir. Think of the love thou hast for her. Think for a day. I’ll be here tomorrow should thy mind change.”

“My mind will not change, sir. I bid thee good day.” Nicolas left the bar and went straight home.

At home, he saw the usual team of people. Two doctors had come to check on Jenny’s progress. Rose had not left Jenny’s side since she took ill. Grace was cooking some food for the lot. Tamora and Charles, Jenny’s parents, were hovering by the bed. Nicolas felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Kevin, his twenty-seven year old brother, and Emily, Kevin’s twenty-five year old wife. Emily reached out and hugged Nicolas tight. He loosely returned the hug. He felt arms around his leg and looked down to see William, Kevin and Emily’s five year old son.

“How doth thou feel?” Kevin asked.

“I feel as if a large boulder is on my shoulders and each day, its size increases,” Nicolas replied, sighing. He turned to Rose. “How doth my lady fare?”

“She sleeps,” Rose answered. “Though sometimes she will wake, crying for those she has lost.”

As if it were written, Jenny’s eyes shot open and she yelled for Victoria. She looked around wildly. When she saw Nicolas, she called for him, her thin arms reaching for him. He rushed over and embraced her. Tears ran down his cheeks, though he did not make a sound. They fell upon Jenny’s face and mixed with her own silent waterfall.

The words the strange man had spoke flew through Nicolas’s mind. He thought of Jenny. Not of the frail woman in his arms, but the lady she once was, full of life. Her wonderful body, now withered from hunger. Her joyous laughter. The way she and Nicolas fit perfectly together. He looked down at her. She’d fallen asleep again. He gently laid her down, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. He stood and left the room. The doctors followed him.

“We are sorry, sir,” one of them said. “She does not seem to be recovering. We could try bloodletting again.”

“No,” Nicolas said. “She grew worse after the first try. I do not want thy leeches on her a second time.”

“Yes, sir,” the doctor said. “If that is all, I’ll bid thee good day.”

“Yes, good day,” Nicolas murmured. He led the men to the door. “I thank thee for all thou has done for my wife.”

The doctors nodded and left. Nicolas stood by the door, lost in thought. He needed to talk to someone, get another opinion on the witch.

Grace entered the hall. “Nicolas, art thou hungry?”

“No,” Nicolas replied. “Can I speak with thee for a moment?”

“Of course. Please allow me to feed the others and I’ll be with thee soon.” She left.

When she returned, Nicolas led her into the sitting room.

“Grace, I need thy advice,” Nicolas said. “I met a strange man today. He told me of a way to cure Jenny.”

“Oh, Nicky, that’s wonderful!” Grace exclaimed, using Nicolas’s nickname for the first time since Victoria had died. “What advice could I give thee but get it quickly?”

“The woman who could cure Jenny, she is rumored to be a witch.”

“A witch? No, we can not take part in the dark arts.”

“I know this, but I would do anything to see my Jenny well again.”

“But, Nicolas! Thou knowst as well as I that the church forbids black magic. I know that thou loves her, but art thou willing to spend an eternity in Hell?”

“No. I just cannot watch her suffer.”

“Oh, Nicky.” She hugged him.

Emily ran into the room. “Forgive the interruption, but Jenny is awake. She seems mad! She is speaking to William as if he were Victoria!”

Nicolas and Grace ran back to the bedroom. Jenny was sitting up in bed. She had William in her lap. He looked confused and scared.

“Oh, my child,” Jenny was saying. “Thank the Lord my dream did not come true!” She saw Nicolas. “My love, come hither and let me tell thee of the awful nightmare I had.” Nicolas sat down on the bed. Jenny continued. “I dreamt our little Victoria had fallen ill and died! Is that not the worst vision ever? Oh, what a scare I have had! But I see thee before me, Victoria, and know thee to be alive and well.”

Nicolas looked to the others for help. Tamora had tears in her eyes. Charles led her from the room before she began crying. Kevin shook his head and placed his arm around Emily. Grace helped William off the bed and nodded at Rose.

Rose took a deep breath and turned to Jenny. “Jenny? Canst thou hear me?”

“Of course I can hear thee. Didst thou think I was deaf?”

“No, of course not. Jenny, that isn’t Victoria. It’s William. You remember William? Emily’s son?”

“Not... Victoria? Where is she? Where is my baby?”

“My love,” Nicolas said. “My dear, sweet love. Victoria is dead. She passed from us three months ago.”

“No!” Jenny yelled. She struggled from the bed. Nicolas restrained her, but she pushed him aside. “No! Where is she?” She took two steps and fell forward. Kevin caught her before she hit the floor. She was unconscious.

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“I knew thou would return,” the man said. “Thy love is strong, I can tell.”

“Praise thyself later,” Nicolas growled. “Tell me where to find the witch.”

“Holly lives just outside of town. At the entrance to the woods. Thou can find her there. Her price is cheap and her potions strong.”

“I thank thee,” Nicolas said, bowing politely. Outside the bar, he mounted his horse and took off towards the woods. He soon reached a small shack. He knocked on the door.

An old woman opened the door. She reached about Nicolas’s chest and had scraggly grey hair and piercing black eyes. “Yes?”

“Please excuse my unannounced visit, ma’am,” Nicolas said. “Art thou the witch Holly?”

“I am,” she replied. “Who art thou?”

“My name is Nicolas. I was told thou could cure any ill.”

“Thou were told true, Nicolas.” Holly opened the door wider. “Enter.”

Nicolas walked in. It was a one room shack. There were several fire pits on one side and a bed on the other. Each of the fire pits had a large black cauldron. Two of the pits were lit and whatever was in the cauldrons was boiling.

Holly closed the door and gestured at a couple of chairs near the bed. “Tell me, Nicolas, what services dost thou need?”

“‘Tis my wife,” Nicolas began and explained what was happening.

“I have the very thing thy wife needs,” Holly said after a moment of thought. She went over to one of the boiling cauldrons and ladled some green liquid into a small bottle. She handed it to Nicolas. “She must drink it all in one swallow, or it wont be as potent.”

“I thank thee,” Nicolas said, taking the bottle. “How much do I owe thee?”

“Return when thy wife is healthy again. We shall discuss payment then.”

Nicolas thanked her again and hurried home. When he walked through the door, he knew something was wrong. He ran into the bedroom. Jenny was asleep. Rose was sobbing into her hands. They were the only two in the room.

“Rose?” Nicolas said. “What happened?”

Rose looked up. Her eyes were all red and puffy. She ran over and hugged him. “Oh, Nicolas! Grace is looking for thee. I do not want to be the one to tell thee.”

“Tell me what?”

“Jenny is dead, Nicolas.”

Nicolas sank to his knees. He looked at Jenny, lying so peacefully. Dead? No, she couldn’t be! He had the potion! He couldn’t be too late! But he was.

“How long,” he whispered.

“An hour,” Rose replied softly.

“Where are the others?”

“Kevin and Emily went to tell my parents.”

Nicolas stood and walked over to the bed. Jenny was pale. A thin line of drool had come from the corner of her mouth. Nicolas let out a yell and punched the wall. It felt good. He punched it again. And again. He couldn’t stop.

“Nicolas,” someone said. Nicolas ignored the person and continued taking out his anger on the wall. A hand pulled him away. Nicolas stared angrily at the ground, blood dripping from his knuckles.

“Nicolas, I know it hurts. But harming thyself does nothing.”

Nicolas ignored him.

“Nicolas, look at me.”

Nicolas slowly looked up. He stared into the face of Edgar, his father.

“Don’t do anything thou wilt later regret.” Edgar pulled him close and hugged him. Nicolas did not return the embrace.

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“Please tell me there is something thou canst do,” Nicolas begged when Holly opened her door. It was three days later and Nicolas had remembered to return the potion.

“Come in,” Holly said. “Did it not work?”

“I came too late,” Nicolas replied, sinking into one of the chairs. “She died before I could return.”

“I fear I can not cure death.”

“I want to be with her,” Nicolas said, handing her the bottle.

“There are two ways. Death and the future. If thou were to die, thou wouldst see thy wife in Heaven. Or thou may travel to the future and find her reborn in another body. She’ll have no memories of thee, but it will still be thy Jenny.”

“If I were to die, I would be in Hell, whilst my sweet Jenny would be in Heaven,” Nicolas mused. “Is the future safe?”

“I’ve never been.”

“I do not wish to die. I would like to travel to the future.”

“Very well. Wouldst thou like to inform thy family of thy decision?”

“No. Canst thou send me now?”

“I can. And I will. Close your eyes.” Holly placed her palm on Nicolas’s forehead and mumbled some words. He felt a tingly heat, and then, nothing.

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Oh, man, my hands hurt. No more typing! :cries: Okay, review time!