Читать книгу Aqueous Passage - Krystyna Faroe - Страница 5

If Elm had known that things would have turned out this way he would have thought himself pathetic. Why did he hold back and wait for Fern? He’d had so many chances to take advantage of situations he could have manipulated Fern and seduced her, he was sure of that. She was frail, her strength was finite, and she let him hold her up, a crutch for her wounded soul. Yet, every time he saw her shrink to protect herself from the barrage of her memories, his protective instincts would kick in and without thinking he would immediately become her castle wall.

He had held her almost naked body for a whole night feeling like his body would set on fire from the sensations he felt. His only redemption was that the heat helped to warm Fern’s cold frigid body. From there on he had held her in his arms again and again and had done nothing. All he had from her was the one kiss, the one kiss that had caused her nightmares and would be remembered that way. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t tried again but he thought not. He wanted her to heal; he wanted her to willingly lift her lips up to his as she had that night, the night that he almost had her love.

He knew why the sudden onset of depression had taken hold of him. He’d seen her staring at the sky and was going to joke with her about looking for answers above when he noticed the airship. He saw her whole body look as if it would take flight at the sight of it and knew she was thinking of Oak, was happy that they were on the same route. He’d dropped back out of her sight before she saw him there. Carefully hiding in the shadows just like in the past when he would watch her without her knowing and envy the hold Oak had over her. What a fool he was to have had hope, hope for pain was what he was heading toward, there was nothing else for him and her.

Sat in the dining mess he looked around at the others eating and discussing their journey through the Aqueous Passage. He needed to take his mind off his melancholy. He understood why Fern hated their location, as did the rest of the Woodlanders; they were used to freedom, traversing the forest and enjoying their games of war. He smiled at how prepared they were for fighting. If Oak had done anything well, he had taught them sparring and tactics that the Lakellers could not out do. Every one of the Woodlanders was lithe, quick and deceivingly strong.

It was a strange relationship that between the Lakellers and the Woodlanders; originally they had been passengers, now it seemed that the Lakellers were very interested to find out where the Aviatilians were going. He reflected that the Woodlanders didn’t really care; all they wanted was to retrieve Oak and Blackthorn from them and to return to Elanclose.

What would he do when they found them? He wasn’t sure if he could return to what had been. Could he return as the different person he was? Would going to Elanclose bring back the person he had succeeded dispelling?

He knew that Fern’s feelings would always be for Oak and as soon as he was in her presence again she would crave him like a child wanting a toy. Yes, she would want him just as much as she had before.

Then why did he keep hoping she would change? Why did he think that maybe there was a chance for him? His heart was foolish that was why, it wouldn’t give up on her. He dropped his head at the thought and stared at the empty plate before him.

“It won’t magically refill Elm. I think you have to get up and physically put more food onto it.”

Elm looked up to see Hemlock smiling down at him; he stopped smiling when he saw Elm’s expression. Hemlock moved to the bench opposite at once and sat looking him over again, kindly studying him.

“I would say that face has to be girl related.”

Elm gave a small smile and nodded but said nothing.

“Fern obviously but why now, you two seem inseparable?”

“We were but…” Elm stopped himself from saying anything else, it was too obvious.

“But once Oak is back, she will run to him and forget you.”

Elm’s return glance was angry, so Hemlock threw his arms up in the air in a gesture of submission.

“I was only stating what you think.”

Elm’s face said it was true, as he too gave a small shrug and dropped his head and shoulders once more.

“Why Fern Elm? Everyone knows she adores Oak; she always has and always will. You can’t change her, she’s set her heart on him and she will never let go. You know her better than any of us, you must see it.”

“Yes, I see it, yet I’m fool enough to keep hoping she’ll realize he doesn’t want her and move on.” Elm’s eyes still looked at the empty plate as he answered, as empty as his heart felt at this moment. He heard Hemlock shift his weight on his seat.

“I’m going to suggest something to you, something you won’t like.” Elm gave no response. “You have to let her go. Look for someone else or don’t think of girls at all, they just cause you grief anyway and you know why I say that.”

Elm looked up and scrutinized Hemlock for a moment, memories seeping into his self-pitying mind. “Yes, I understand but it’s just as hard to give up as it is to try. So, which gives me the better conclusion? A chance with Fern or none?”

Hemlock smiled back. “Believe me your chance with Fern may seem good but it will bring more trouble than it's worth.”

Elm thought the words over and reflected once more on Hemlock’s own past romantic involvement with a girl that was already joined in union. It hadn’t turned out well and Elm himself had been the destroyer of their brief tender moment. Her partner had never found out but both she and Hemlock had suffered, no doubt the guilt still sat heavily upon them both for breaking the rules.

“Probably but right now I feel like I want to be masochistic. Just being with her makes a difference to me, when she smiles or laughs…well it makes me feel a hero all over again.”

Hemlock nodded in understanding and slowly stood up. “Think of the cost Elm, to you and everyone around you when things go back to what they were, and then decide on whether giving her up is right?” He gave Elm one last serious stare and started to move away. “Anyway, right now I need to decide whether I am going to have some delicious envillion for dinner or some delicious envillion.”

Elm smiled as he watched him walk toward the sideboard of food. He had turned into a good friend and Elm felt guilty for having manipulated Hemlock all those days ago. Days! It seemed longer but it was only days since this had all started. Not even a week since he had thought he could oust Oak as leader, a time when he had plans, bad plans.

The fact that he had blackmailed Hemlock into performing tasks for him and Hemlock had still protected him and stood by him for support, proved Hemlock to be a better person than he was. He realized now that had he hadn’t needed to coerce Hemlock into saving his life, he could have asked for help and it would have been given to him willingly. Playing the despicable card had not been his best moment.

He watched Hemlock, his ruffled dark blond hair falling forward across his cheek as he stood scooping envillion in sauce onto a plate. Hemlock was looking down at his meal as he wrinkled his nose; Elm smiled, he understood, it was how they felt about the food on the ship. The Woodlanders disliked it but hungry stomachs had to have something, and envillion was all that was left in the cook’s storage for dinner. They would soon have to find a stop on the Aqueous Passage and leave it to find food. He was looking forward to that day, as were the rest of the Woodlanders. He guessed it would be an empty ship that would be left behind when they finally did land.

A hand gently touched his shoulder. He didn’t need to look at her to know who it was; her scent was familiar to him even with the smell of cooked food around him. He looked at the slim fingers and wrist, wishing he didn’t have to turn and look up at the face that caused him so much torment.

“How was dinner?”

He absorbed her in, charged by her warm smile, her green eyes repeating it, her countenance welcoming his reply. Her energy made him tingle, he had to pull himself together; right now he felt the need to get up and leave to break the connection. His depression made him want to run but he didn’t, instead he encouraged a smile to find his lips. “It’s food it fills the stomach but that’s all.”

Fern gave a small laugh and sat down on the bench next to him. He tightened. Why couldn’t she sit opposite him, why this close so he could feel every quiver or twitch that went through her? He closed his eyes and drew in a breath.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was soaked with concern and anxiety and he felt a pang at causing her distress.

“Nothing Fern. Why do you ask?” He kept his voice level and emotionless as he looked ahead at the foraging bodies collecting food.

He felt her twist to look at him, felt her eyes scan him until her hand rested upon his hand. He wanted to pull it away, to not feel the warmth of her palm sear through the back of his hand, not feel the fingers close gently around and squeeze.

“I don’t believe you. Something is wrong.” Her voice was soft, gentle and cajoling; she was leaning into him like a siren, coaxing and dangerous.

He found himself leaning back into her wanting to be seduced and led astray. He felt her shoulder sinking into his arm, rubbing against him like a pet cat vying for attention and he knew he wanted to respond, to indulge her, stroke her, enjoy the tactile pleasures of body against body.

He stiffened and felt her tighten at his reaction. Was she playing with him? Why was she doing this?

He shifted in his seat and looked toward the exit.

“I’m tired. I’m going to my room.” He started to rise.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Her voice was electric, filled with expectation.

The question surprised him and slowed his movement until he was finally upright and turned his glance to her, he knew his look was reprimanding. Her face showed embarrassment at realizing she had gone too far and she dropped her eyes in shame.

“Don’t play games with me Fern.” His voice was perhaps too strict and condescending but he knew it was time to stop being children. They were adults and their impulses and sensations were man and woman not boy and girl anymore.

“It was alright for you to play games with me under the pagoda but there the equality ends. Is that the case Elm?” Her red face blazed with her hair as it tumbled backward from her abrupt upturned face. She stared at him her body equally rigid and angry.

“There is no equality here.” He saw her lips purse in readiness to spurt out a biting retort but he beat her to it. “There can never be equality in this relationship, when you know that I love you and you do not love me.”

He almost smiled as he watched her mouth drop and her shoulders droop as her body gave way to uncertainty and surprise at his honest response. He cringed inwardly as he watched the tip of her tongue rest upon her bottom lip in thought. He couldn’t stand this any longer.

“Goodnight Fern!”

He traversed the rest of the bench not waiting to hear what she had to say. He didn’t want to know. For tonight he didn’t want her in his mind but he knew she would be, she was always there. As he turned away he heard her petulant response.

“But I do love you Elm.” It was said softly, almost hidden beneath the mumbles and chatter around them but he heard it as if it had been yelled.

He stopped, knew he should turn and go back but didn’t, instead he kept walking until he left the dining hall and all the bubbling of conversations going on there. Her words still echoed in his head, so he shook it as if they would tumble out from the action, they didn’t. She loved him but as a friend not a lover, of that he had no doubt, and he could no longer continue with the charade he was playing. It was unfair to him and to her.

**********

Fern sat in shock, she was trembling, tears were wanting to form in her eyes and she wanted to bang her head upon the table in front of her to make them tears of physical pain rather than what they really were. She couldn’t deal with mental pain again, not so soon after…no, she had to bury it and her feelings for what was between her and Elm. He had chosen to hurt her. Hurt her after he had carried her through the mayhem, sorrow, guilt, fear, he had brought her life back to her. So why was he tossing her aside like a piece of discarded peel?

She was staring blankly across the room when her eyes focused on Hemlock. He was staring at her intently but upon noticing her eyes having caught his he immediately focused on his meal. Her mind went through scenarios. What had happened to Elm to make him change his attitude toward her? He was close to Hemlock. Hemlock would know.

She slowly rose from the table, quickly whisking away a stray tear droplet on her cheeks and moved in the direction of Hemlock. He looked up seeing that she was heading toward him and almost looked like he wanted to run away too. What was going on? Had she suddenly turned repulsive? She kept her eyes focused on him so he had no doubt she wanted his attention and saw that by doing this she gave him no escape.

Smiling warmly she sat opposite him. Congenially he smiled back and put down his fork.

“My apologies for disrupting your meal.” It was a lie, her need to know what was going on was more important in her mind.

“What can I do for you Fern?” His brown eyes hadn’t wrinkled with his return of smile and she sensed he didn’t want this conversation to happen.

She looked at his plate. “Envillion again! Will we ever eat anything else?”

He gave her a smile but again it did not reach his eyes.

“It is all we have Fern. Aside from gnawing on table legs we have no other choice.”

She cringed at the smart reply, this wasn’t going well. She gave a small hollow laugh and knew it sounded as such. “You’re right of course, we can’t complain until we have no food at all.”

He stared at her all the more, she wriggled in discomfort. How was she to broach the subject at hand?

“I couldn’t help but notice,” she looked across the room as if her point of topic was there. “That Elm looked…well, out of sorts.”

Hemlock shrugged. “Was he?”

Fern gave him a hard stare, one that said don’t mess with me, we both know he wasn’t happy.

“He wasn’t in a good mood when I sat with him; in fact he seemed quite upset over something.” Before he could deny anything she added. “You must have noticed, you’re a close friend of his, you couldn’t miss his lack of spirit.”

She gave a silent heave of triumph as she saw Hemlock was cornered and chewing on his lip in reaction. “You’re right he didn’t seem himself.”

Again a short response that drove her to frustration, quelling it she smiled again and soothingly responded. “I’m worried about him Hemlock.” Leaning forward she watched every tick or quiver on his face. “I don’t want him to be sad.”

“Then leave him alone!”

She sat back in shock at the tart retort and the thin lips that had said them. The lips softened and became full once more as he now leaned toward her.

“You’re not good for him Fern. You make him jealous of your feelings for Oak and you make him a bad person because of it.” He was coaxing her now, the tables had turned and she could feel only panic at losing her only friend.

“But he’s my friend.” She blurted out, her lips trembling slightly and pesky tears once more wanting to form in her wide eyes.

“No, he’s your lover. It is what he has always been. A lover held at arm’s length and used for company.”

The brown eyes were like deep ridges, deep with thought and knowledge. She was embarrassed by it, embarrassed that he knew so much about her relationship with Elm. A relationship she had never dissected and understood before and the enlightenment of which made her feel ashamed.

“I…never meant to hurt him. I do love him.”

The eyes were dissecting her now and she felt she was crumbling under their intensity for seeking the truth. “I love his friendship.”

Success showed across his face as he leaned back again. “He doesn’t want your friendship he wants your heart and if you can’t give it to him, then you have to move away. Leave him be, let him live his life without you.”

The eyes were holding her own frightened ones rigidly steadfast as if they would not release them without her agreement. “If that is what he thinks is best.”

Again he quickly leaned forward. “You know it is not in his best interest to be in love with you, don’t play on his feelings knowing that he will succumb to you.”

Pulling her body up taller from the smart she gave as strong a stare back.

“I am not his puppeteer. I will do what is best for him.”

The returning voice was raised but deep. “Do that, don’t twist what you say to what you think is best, do what is right for him. As I said leave him alone and stay as far away from him as possible.”

Fern’s lip quivered a little at the harsh statement, tears were forming and she needed to leave before her embarrassment reached its limit. She rose from the table slowly, sliding along to the end. Once she was standing at the very edge she dropped her hands to her sides, a sign of her defeat and with a subdued stance replied. “I will stay away from him.”

She turned as the first tears dropped upon her cheeks and wavering slightly in her walk left Hemlock alone at his table.

How ironic that she had sought the truth and now the truth had been given to her she didn’t like it, didn’t like it at all.