Lenaara
Dreaming of honey cakes.
The sea had the opposite effect on Irene. Neither the air nor the feeling of the damp sand beneath her toes made her feel anything but slight discomfort. It tasted of salt and it was so loud here; the crashing of waves seemed thunderous in the otherwise stillness. Seagulls flew overhead, circling round and round until descending to the ground or diving towards the waters, perhaps having had spotted a fish.
This sea was much different from the one of her childhood memories. Those waters were as still as a mirror’s surface, grey and impossibly dark, so dark that nothing could be seen beneath the surface. No crashing of waves coloured the silence there and the air carried with it a different scent, that of decay and death, of seaweed and rotting wood. The Vaelan sea was almost hypnotizing to watch in contrast and Irene stared at the deep waters at the horizon, past the large waves crashing against the shore and retreating into themselves, the seafoam dissipating on the sand.
Matthias’s voice pulled her back to reality and Irene blinked at him once and understanding descended on her the same way the waves fell upon the shore. Her heart stuttered, and her breath hitched for fraction of a moment. Matthias started pulling her into the water and Irene sucked in a breath at its contact with her bare feet. The water was icy, not yet warmed by the sun’s rays that have just started to peek over the horizon, and she had absolutely no wish to go for a swim.
“No,” Irene gasped, alarmed at the notion of being anywhere near the waters. The shore was just fine, with its sand and seashells and an occasional patch of tall grasses. Matthias grinned at her, his eyes beckoning her to follow him, and she took several more steps into the water until it reached her ankles and pulled her hand free from him.
Her mind worked overtime to come up with an excuse not to follow him. Matthias already knew of her fear of the sea and now it had no reason to exist – Vaelan waters had no sirens or other creatures lurking beneath the waves. Well, except for Matthias, who seemed set on going for a swim. Wretched siren. Afraid to ruin her clothes, then? Ridiculous to even consider such an excuse to work on the man on whose money her plain nightclothes were bought. The cold, while uncomfortable, did not bother Irene who was content with sleeping on the side of the road and considered it more comfortable than her current bed.
A particularly large wave rolled over them and soaked their pants to the knee, splashing them with stray icy droplets. Irene shivered, not quite sure if from the cold or from the thought of being in the water.
“You can go,” she urged Matthias, stepping back to the shore, “I’ll be fine.”
He studied her for a while, considering, then he started to step toward her, reaching for her again. Irene did not move her arm out of his reach when his hand wrapped around her wrist and his arm snaked around her waist, lifting her slightly as he threw himself backward into the sea. Irene only had the time to close her eyes and take a breath before the water engulfed them. They made a huge splash as they fell in, water flying up all around them. Irene’s heart panicked, and she clutched onto Matthias for dear life, struggling between wanting to hold him to wanting to pushing him underwater where he so wanted to be. As he rose from beneath the water surface, Matthias laughed brightly. He did not release his hold on her, pulling her closer as if to assure her he was there.
“We won’t go too far in,” he promised, lips still raised in a half-smile.
Irene gasped a breath the moment she could and watched a wave descend upon them, rolling over them on its way to the shore. When she could breathe again, Irene leveled Matthias a particularly nasty glare.
The two of them were half-kneeling in the water. It was impossibly cold when Irene rose up, the breeze chilling her to the bone, and lowered herself back into the water where it seemed much warmer in comparison.
“I cannot swim, you fool,” she said and pushed against his shoulders, away from her to push him beneath the surface.
His body was relaxed and her shove easily sent him doing a semi-barrel roll backward into the water. His hand shot out, grabbing a hold of her forearm as he sunk into the deep blue, pulling her so that she was almost horizontal. They remained like that for one, still moment, Irene’s eyes wide with shock as she looked at Matthias with all the anger and fear she felt. Beneath all that emotion, buried by thoughts that she was going to drown or something is going to pull her further under the waves like that poor fisherman, Irene felt a sting of awe. Matthias’s eyes were a shade lighter than the water. Again, it was him who rose from the water first, amusement coloring his eyes as he watched Irene seeth.
“You should learn to swim,” he remarked lightly as he casually reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, “the water becomes less scary when you can.”
Irene could only shake her head once, feeling her skin burn where he’d touched her forehead. He turned away from her, glancing at the expanse of water behind them. Though the waves near the shore were strong, the sea further in looked to be rather calm. He looked back at her, a glint in his eyes that signalled at oncoming mischief. She started to regret the decision to go to the sea.
“Shall I teach you?” The water around them begun to flow backward, pushing them into the deeper parts of the sea, slowly but surely.
Another wave came and took away more than just her vision as it rolled over them. It took away her footing. Irene looked down at the water with pure horror, her feet no longer touching the sand below, and clung to Matthias harder. One arm around his neck, the other clutching his shoulder, and both of her legs were wrapped tight around his waist.
“You can take me back to the shore,” Irene breathed and raised her gaze to look at the man who apparently took pleasure in torturing her so. She let go of his shoulder and pushed her hand against the water to splash him in the face with it. When he recovered, she did it twice more, frustration fueling her numbing limbs. “Leave me be.” A smile started to fight its way onto her face, the ridiculousness of the situation almost palpable.
He held on tight to her, one hand on the back of her thigh and the other on the small of her back. Matthias looked down at her with a quirked eyebrow, asking her with faux seriousness, “So, do you want me to take you back or leave you? You can only have one, Princess.”
All humour dissipated, carried away by the water. The rush of adrenaline from being at sea faded and now all she could feel was how close they were. The waves rocked them softly, their bodies carried further into the vast expanse of the sea, away from the rolling current. The absence of crashing waves allowed a calming silence to set in, one she’d expect herself to be afraid of for it promised nothing good, but noticed it as an afterthought. Her attention was focused on the man in her arms, one who held her still and asked her a question she wasn’t sure she could answer.
Irene wanted both. Neither. She despised this uncertainty and the understanding that now when she looked at him, there was no anger to anchor herself to. All she could think of was that his embrace was comforting, and her traitorous body responded to it. That desire had taken over the mess that was her mind and calmed it down to a single question: Why not?
Oh, there were many reasons not to and none for its favour. Irene was hesitant, unsure, when Matthias’s arms tightened ever so slightly. Her eyes flitted to his lips, the lips which she touched in her drunken stupor and wondered what it’d be like to kiss them, and instantly felt the urge to run away, somehow make it back to the shore and run until her legs collapsed beneath her. With sudden clarity Irene understood what she wished was not true – the location did not matter. A bedroom or middle of the sea, so long as Matthias was there and they were alone, she’d feel this pull of desire for him.
It felt terrifying to consider the outcomes of the question she still refused to answer. Why not? Matthias did not hesitate as she did and she felt his hand travel up her thigh, his touch warm even in the icy water. Irene’s body moved of its own subtle accord in response, easing into his hold, relaxing. His other hand traveled up her back to rest against her neck and Irene’s hands slid up his shoulders towards the sides of his neck until her fingers slipped into the damp mess of his hair.
She was closer to the point where their foreheads were nearly touching, his breath a whisper against her lips, and when she saw his eyes close, Irene understood that what was about to happen was unavoidable.
Until Matthias pulled away, leaving Irene completely stunned. A moment later, during which she was not quite sure how to feel about what seemed like a sudden change of mind, a flash of colour and movement at the shore caught her attention and she turned to look at the distant commotion. She could hear no sounds except for their own breathing and the waves, but whatever was happening at the shore did not promise anything good. A man dressed in orange and yellow was storming his way to the beach, a young girl in a dirty cotton dress following close behind along with a contingent of Matthias’s guards and servants.
“Take us back,” Irene finally answered the question that seemed to have been asked an eternity ago.
This sea was much different from the one of her childhood memories. Those waters were as still as a mirror’s surface, grey and impossibly dark, so dark that nothing could be seen beneath the surface. No crashing of waves coloured the silence there and the air carried with it a different scent, that of decay and death, of seaweed and rotting wood. The Vaelan sea was almost hypnotizing to watch in contrast and Irene stared at the deep waters at the horizon, past the large waves crashing against the shore and retreating into themselves, the seafoam dissipating on the sand.
Matthias’s voice pulled her back to reality and Irene blinked at him once and understanding descended on her the same way the waves fell upon the shore. Her heart stuttered, and her breath hitched for fraction of a moment. Matthias started pulling her into the water and Irene sucked in a breath at its contact with her bare feet. The water was icy, not yet warmed by the sun’s rays that have just started to peek over the horizon, and she had absolutely no wish to go for a swim.
“No,” Irene gasped, alarmed at the notion of being anywhere near the waters. The shore was just fine, with its sand and seashells and an occasional patch of tall grasses. Matthias grinned at her, his eyes beckoning her to follow him, and she took several more steps into the water until it reached her ankles and pulled her hand free from him.
Her mind worked overtime to come up with an excuse not to follow him. Matthias already knew of her fear of the sea and now it had no reason to exist – Vaelan waters had no sirens or other creatures lurking beneath the waves. Well, except for Matthias, who seemed set on going for a swim. Wretched siren. Afraid to ruin her clothes, then? Ridiculous to even consider such an excuse to work on the man on whose money her plain nightclothes were bought. The cold, while uncomfortable, did not bother Irene who was content with sleeping on the side of the road and considered it more comfortable than her current bed.
A particularly large wave rolled over them and soaked their pants to the knee, splashing them with stray icy droplets. Irene shivered, not quite sure if from the cold or from the thought of being in the water.
“You can go,” she urged Matthias, stepping back to the shore, “I’ll be fine.”
He studied her for a while, considering, then he started to step toward her, reaching for her again. Irene did not move her arm out of his reach when his hand wrapped around her wrist and his arm snaked around her waist, lifting her slightly as he threw himself backward into the sea. Irene only had the time to close her eyes and take a breath before the water engulfed them. They made a huge splash as they fell in, water flying up all around them. Irene’s heart panicked, and she clutched onto Matthias for dear life, struggling between wanting to hold him to wanting to pushing him underwater where he so wanted to be. As he rose from beneath the water surface, Matthias laughed brightly. He did not release his hold on her, pulling her closer as if to assure her he was there.
“We won’t go too far in,” he promised, lips still raised in a half-smile.
Irene gasped a breath the moment she could and watched a wave descend upon them, rolling over them on its way to the shore. When she could breathe again, Irene leveled Matthias a particularly nasty glare.
The two of them were half-kneeling in the water. It was impossibly cold when Irene rose up, the breeze chilling her to the bone, and lowered herself back into the water where it seemed much warmer in comparison.
“I cannot swim, you fool,” she said and pushed against his shoulders, away from her to push him beneath the surface.
His body was relaxed and her shove easily sent him doing a semi-barrel roll backward into the water. His hand shot out, grabbing a hold of her forearm as he sunk into the deep blue, pulling her so that she was almost horizontal. They remained like that for one, still moment, Irene’s eyes wide with shock as she looked at Matthias with all the anger and fear she felt. Beneath all that emotion, buried by thoughts that she was going to drown or something is going to pull her further under the waves like that poor fisherman, Irene felt a sting of awe. Matthias’s eyes were a shade lighter than the water. Again, it was him who rose from the water first, amusement coloring his eyes as he watched Irene seeth.
“You should learn to swim,” he remarked lightly as he casually reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, “the water becomes less scary when you can.”
Irene could only shake her head once, feeling her skin burn where he’d touched her forehead. He turned away from her, glancing at the expanse of water behind them. Though the waves near the shore were strong, the sea further in looked to be rather calm. He looked back at her, a glint in his eyes that signalled at oncoming mischief. She started to regret the decision to go to the sea.
“Shall I teach you?” The water around them begun to flow backward, pushing them into the deeper parts of the sea, slowly but surely.
Another wave came and took away more than just her vision as it rolled over them. It took away her footing. Irene looked down at the water with pure horror, her feet no longer touching the sand below, and clung to Matthias harder. One arm around his neck, the other clutching his shoulder, and both of her legs were wrapped tight around his waist.
“You can take me back to the shore,” Irene breathed and raised her gaze to look at the man who apparently took pleasure in torturing her so. She let go of his shoulder and pushed her hand against the water to splash him in the face with it. When he recovered, she did it twice more, frustration fueling her numbing limbs. “Leave me be.” A smile started to fight its way onto her face, the ridiculousness of the situation almost palpable.
He held on tight to her, one hand on the back of her thigh and the other on the small of her back. Matthias looked down at her with a quirked eyebrow, asking her with faux seriousness, “So, do you want me to take you back or leave you? You can only have one, Princess.”
All humour dissipated, carried away by the water. The rush of adrenaline from being at sea faded and now all she could feel was how close they were. The waves rocked them softly, their bodies carried further into the vast expanse of the sea, away from the rolling current. The absence of crashing waves allowed a calming silence to set in, one she’d expect herself to be afraid of for it promised nothing good, but noticed it as an afterthought. Her attention was focused on the man in her arms, one who held her still and asked her a question she wasn’t sure she could answer.
Irene wanted both. Neither. She despised this uncertainty and the understanding that now when she looked at him, there was no anger to anchor herself to. All she could think of was that his embrace was comforting, and her traitorous body responded to it. That desire had taken over the mess that was her mind and calmed it down to a single question: Why not?
Oh, there were many reasons not to and none for its favour. Irene was hesitant, unsure, when Matthias’s arms tightened ever so slightly. Her eyes flitted to his lips, the lips which she touched in her drunken stupor and wondered what it’d be like to kiss them, and instantly felt the urge to run away, somehow make it back to the shore and run until her legs collapsed beneath her. With sudden clarity Irene understood what she wished was not true – the location did not matter. A bedroom or middle of the sea, so long as Matthias was there and they were alone, she’d feel this pull of desire for him.
It felt terrifying to consider the outcomes of the question she still refused to answer. Why not? Matthias did not hesitate as she did and she felt his hand travel up her thigh, his touch warm even in the icy water. Irene’s body moved of its own subtle accord in response, easing into his hold, relaxing. His other hand traveled up her back to rest against her neck and Irene’s hands slid up his shoulders towards the sides of his neck until her fingers slipped into the damp mess of his hair.
She was closer to the point where their foreheads were nearly touching, his breath a whisper against her lips, and when she saw his eyes close, Irene understood that what was about to happen was unavoidable.
Until Matthias pulled away, leaving Irene completely stunned. A moment later, during which she was not quite sure how to feel about what seemed like a sudden change of mind, a flash of colour and movement at the shore caught her attention and she turned to look at the distant commotion. She could hear no sounds except for their own breathing and the waves, but whatever was happening at the shore did not promise anything good. A man dressed in orange and yellow was storming his way to the beach, a young girl in a dirty cotton dress following close behind along with a contingent of Matthias’s guards and servants.
“Take us back,” Irene finally answered the question that seemed to have been asked an eternity ago.