COLOURS || Seth Clearwater

FIVE

April, 1304

Alec had gone to Lucinda's home to retrieve all of her witchcraft books, and he dug through all of Alec's potion ingredients. To her dismay, they were mostly all herbs, though she knew she could find the ingredients she needed in two places; the forest, and the local market.

"Lucinda, is this the right book?" Charlotte asked tiredly from the small handmade kitchen table, one hand resting on her swollen stomach, while the other held up an old brown book with leather binding.

"Mhmm," She hummed, tossing in the root of a dead tree. "I'll grab it now," Lucinda chuckled, and purple mist enveloped the book and it floated towards her, pausing in mid air for the red head to look at.

"I will never grow tired of seeing that," Charlotte murmured with a small smile, and Lucinda let out a laugh. Once she had added in one she needed of the tree root, she set her knife down on the table and pulled her cloak off the hook next to the door.

"I need to go into town to buy some things, I'll be back soon," she told Charlotte, who's gaze snapped over to her.

"They'll kill you! You can't go into town!" She panicked, and Lucinda shook her head.

"They cannot kill me if they don't know its me," she murmured flipping the hood up to cover her flaming red hair. Holding a finger up to her ruby red lips, Lucinda's form began to change.

Charlotte watched in amazement as Lucinda's skin darkened to the colour of coffee, and her normally almond shaped blue eyes rounded and became a warm brown colour. Her chest grew larger, hips widening to give her curves any woman would be jealous of.

"Lucinda?" Charlotte asked curiously, and the African-American woman in her place chuckled.

"My name is Mary LeBlanc, darling," she spoke, her accent having a twang that hadn't been there before. Lucinda winked at her, and Charlotte let out a laugh, resting a hand on her stomach, eyes shining.

"Be safe, 'Mary'," Charlotte chuckled while adding air quotations around her name, earning a loud laugh from the woman as she walked out the cottage door.

"Do I know you?" Kane asked sounding mildly panicked. Lucinda shot him a brief smirk, and Alec — who had been walking with his friend — rolled his eyes.

"Don't get yourself killed again, Lucinda," he chuckled.

Kane did a double take, his brows furrowing in confusion before he let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose between his first three fingers. "I don't know why I bother," he mumbled, and Alec snorted as he wrapped an arm around the younger boys shoulders.

"You can tell by the smirk," Alec chuckled. Lucinda shot them a dazzling smile, then left the home.

She hummed quietly to herself as she walked along the small path through the set of woods, white wicker basket handing loosely from her wrist. As she walked, she bent down to pick some of the wild roses growing up the sides of the trees, varying in colours. Because of the magical environment they grew in, some had different colours; red, white, blue, pink, even green.

"Hello miss," one of the women at the market smiled, and Lucinda smiled back in a sweet manor. She ignored the lust filled looks from the men around her and continued walking, her curvy hips swaying with each step, until she reached her preferred vendor.

"Mary," the older man mused, a twinkle if amusement inscribed in his ancient eyes. Wilfred Hitch was the one mundane inhabitant of Harpoon, England that Lucinda had met with the ability to see through her magic.

"Wilfred, how have you been?" Lucinda asked in her honey like voice, smiling widely as she set her basket down on a pile of spell books, though they appeared to be just old books to anyone else who saw.

"I have been just fine, my grand daughter just had her first child, a healthy little boy," he chuckled. Lucinda smiled politely, tilting her head to the side. "Now, what can I do for you?" Wilfred asked gently. Lucinda did a mental check list in her head before she listed off the three ingredients she needed.

"I need a tin of venomous spiders, a jar of grave dirt, and if possible, rum." Wilfred didn't even looked surprised at her requests; Lucinda always came to him with strange ingredient requests. With each thing she listed off, within seconds it was placed in her wicker basket.

"Can I ask what it is you intend to make?" The old man asked curiously, and Lucinda smiled widely.

"I'm creating my own special brew; a life for a life," she mused, and laughed at the unsurprised look on Wilfred's face.

"Rum is not an ingredient for a potion like that, Lucinda" he chuckled, shaking his head.

"I know that darling," she mused, taking a few steps backwards. "But I must to rid myself of my conscience, or it will never be completed!" She called as she walked away, smiling at the sound of Wilfred's laughter.

"Hello," one of the men watching spoke with a smirk, but Lucinda merely kept on walking, ignoring him with a perfected ease. "I'm talking to you," the man called, pushing himself off the wall he had been previously been leaning on.

"And I am ignoring you," she retorted smoothly, halting in annoyance as he grabbed onto her wrist. "If you do not get your hands off of me, this will be the last time you have hands." Lucinda's tone was calm and collected, and she didn't even have to look at him to make the man listen. "That's what I thought," she muttered as his grip loosened, and she continued on her way to her new home.

•••

"What on earth happened to you?" Kane called as he pulled a shirt over his head. He had told her that he was going to clean himself up. He had spent most of the day chopping wood and cleaning the small fire place, so she couldn't help but agree that he needed one.

Lucinda — having taken off the shape shifting cloak — whipped around to look at Kane, her red hair flying in her face for a short moment. When she realised he was talking about the darkening bruise on her wrist, she shrugged. "Men are insufferable pigs," she spoke briefly, turning back to the cauldron burning over the small fire she'd managed to create.

"Who did it?" he asked with a frown, stepping closer. Kane gently gripped her hand, sending a flutter through Lucinda's chest, and he brought it closer to his face for him to examine. "I'll find a way to curse them," he told her, allowing it to fall back to her side.

"Don't waste your magic, Kane," Lucinda told him, dismissively waving a hand in the air. "It was nothing I could not handle." Kane looked at her skeptically before he sat at the kitchen table, propping his head up on his fisted hand.

"It is anything but a waste if I spend it on you, Love." Lucinda's hands paused their task of burning rose petals over an old candle to him, and the expression of pure honesty written in his eyes made her heart ache. The nickname made her smile.

"I suppose that it is alright then," she murmured into the beautifully calm silence, and returned to her task, the only difference being her trembling fingers and racing heart.