‘Your parents didn’t…’
‘There was control to a degree, they read my correspondence, dictated much of what I was to do or not, but it was as much a farcical mirage as the rest. So long as I did what was asked of me, and maintained my role… Like with the streams, and everything else, they would have had to truly care to notice, to mind anything I did. I always knew, however, that love was off the cards as that might’ve taken me from them, as granderdreams might’ve, but as for the rest… As I said, I was discreet, and it wasn’t as if I was spoiling goods they hoped to sell off.’
Thorn grimaced, hating the wording as much as Hypatia’s tone told him she did. Hating much of what she had lacked as concerned her family too, though that was nothing new. And in the end, it had shaped her, even if only by forcing her to shape herself into something incredible, and so he could not hate it with all his being.
‘I’ve shocked you, Thorn.’
‘Your words are harsh, but the truth as many see it. I am not shocked, merely…’
‘Do not say sorry for my life.’
‘Sorry that you could not even dream of love.’
‘Perhaps it is for the better. I’ve seen too many twisted by such dreams, then disappointed when they do not find it. When life appears but a sham facsimile of glorious dreams. Too many others twisting themselves into unrecognisable forms in the pursuit of love. Losing themselves to the duty they feel towards it, whilst never being rewarded by it, for they are no longer themselves at all.’
‘Is there nothing you dreamt of then? No profession, no far-off land, nothing?’
‘I don’t… I couldn’t imagine myself as something other than I was. Not specifically. Perhaps I did not know my own mind well enough. My own self. Perhaps I merely understood my circumstances too well, and so did not wish to be yet another disappointed dreamer. Or perhaps it was freedom I lacked to do so. I dreamt of that. Freedom, escape. Not enough to seize my own fate.’
‘Until we met in a moonlight garden one summer’s eve.’
‘And so I changed my fate,’ she agreed. ‘Or it was changed, if you believe in such stuff.’
‘I like the idea of it,’ he told her, knowing her comment to be somewhat leading. ‘Fate, Destiny, Predestination. I like the idea of a powerful being, or beings, putting order to the world. Believing that what we can’t find in this life, we might find in another, be it justice, or peace. But as for God as he is described in many books, I don’t think I quite adhere to that. Good wisdom and lovely poetry though.’ Hypatia nodded, grateful for his words; he didn’t ask, for he knew her thoughts on the question of faith. ‘Why did you decide to take a chance on me that night? Every day since?’
‘The alternative…scared me more than trusting you. If I hadn’t, I would’ve continued to be all everyone said I was. All they tried to make me. I found that a more terrifying prospect than the unknown for once in my life.’
‘And my eyes sparkled,’ he grinned, not diminishing Hypatia’s confession, but giving her some levity he felt she needed then.
‘And your eyes sparkle,’ she nodded, a grin splitting her face. Slowly, it disappeared, and her eyes turned to examine the glinting waves around her. ‘What does it feel like? To be in love?’
Something within Thorn revolted at being asked that question, at having to find words to describe such an ephemeral thing; such tasks were appointed to poets, or artists, or great thinkers, not blacksmiths-cum-pig-farmers in the midst of a pleasant evening stream bath.
But something else inside his heart melted, and twinged at the open, vulnerable, and somewhat heartbreaking question.
‘For me, with Helen, it was…rather like drinking a good whisky,’ he said, trying not to feel so terrible nor stupid for making such an analogy. Others compared it to great things, and he compared love to alcohol.Telling, perhaps, of many things.‘It was exciting, sparked my senses, then surprised me, and finally, filled me with a warmth and disconnection from theworld but for that warmth. When it ended, quite a while after the betrayal I will add, it felt as if it had reshaped parts of me. I don’t know if it was the manner in which it ended, or the price paid for such a thing as love, for my father, good and kind and loving as he was, he was destroyed by my mother’s loss. Almost as if love, when taken away, highlights the worst parts of yourself. It made me angrier. More solitary, more…resentful. Then again, some find they can remain the people they became through love. So maybe it is not so very dismal. It’s not very romantic a view on the whole, I know, but that’s the best I can do.’
‘Thank you, Thorn.’
‘Are you hungry?’ he asked, rather than ask the question he wished to:do you want to fall in love someday?Primarily for he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer. He didn’t want to ask himself if he was ready to love and lose again; if he wanted to. For he did believe in the stuff—love—he’d seen too much of it, felt it, to be a non-believer, yet perhaps that was why he was warier of it than a younger man might be. ‘The sun’s nearly set now, and I am well-pruned.’
‘I could eat,’ she nodded, a dangerous grin he didn’t know yet on her lips. ‘You get out first. ’Tis only fair considering you watched me submerge, that I should be allowed to watch you emerge.’
‘Whatever my lady commands,’ he said, enjoying her bluntness, and this new…was it a game?
If so, he was surely enjoying it.
So he rose, ensuring he got proper footing before doing so lest he fall back into the water and make a complete fool of himself, rising as slowly and seductively as he could manage, giving his wife time to appreciate—he hoped—to her heart’s content, all his mortal coil was.
Her grin widened, and so did his, and he stood, imagining himself Poseidon emerging from the great waves of the sea fora moment, before turning, and making his way back to the bank and their belongings; again, ensuring his lady had as good a show as she wished for.
When he reached the bank, and turned back to her, hands on his hips becausewhy not, especially since he felt absurdly tall and proud, as her hot eyes devoured every inch of his dripping self, he wondered again what great fortune had seen him have Hypatia for a wife, and not solely because of her sensual interest in him, and forthright manner. He might’ve thought more, pondered his luck more profoundly, had she herself not risen from the stream just then, a siren herself; or perhaps something older, more dangerous. She was something…a phoenix, afire in the last rays before dusk; a rainbow, shimmering and glistening with a thousand hues. She was also herself, breathtaking and resplendent, and confident, and alive with that light inside her that put the sun’s rays to shame.
Dumbfounded, his arms dropped, and the only coherent thought in his head was that at least she was able to see him at hisfullheight—the cold stream perhaps not showing off his assets to their full extent—and that if he was going to watch this tantalising show she was treating him to—and there was no doubt she was using her body to tease him now—he might as well sit. Besides, in truth, his legs felt shaky, and he couldn’t imagine standing on them much longer.
As slowly as he had, she approached the bank, and he leaned back, elbows on the ground behind him to appreciate every glint, glimmer, and spark; every curve, every bump, every hair and every bounce of delectable flesh. Until finally she stood at his feet, and he was just about to move, to take her hand, and pull her down to him so he could feel all his eyes had just devoured, when she raised a brow. He quirked his head, trying to understand the silent command, and then she moved again, touching his feet with her own, gently tempting them apart,and so he parted his legs, and he waited, his breath shallowing, anticipating…whatever came next.
If there had been any coherent thought left in him, it surely departed, and all he saw were curls the colour of a thousand of the brightest sunsets coming towards him, because Hypatia stepped between his legs, then dropped to her knees, and his body knew, and reached towards her, even as his seemingly leisurely position didn’t quite change.
