Disclaimer: I do not own A Great and Terrible Beauty. (No matter how much I wish I did.)
A/N: Sorry for another LONG wait. I have been so busy…and it turns out I do have a life outside of fan fiction, lol. There will be (Internet translated) French in this, and I am sorry if it is not correct. English will be next to it in Italics anyway, so please don't be frustrated by my poor French.
I do realize that this is getting kind of depressing, and hopefully things will be looking up for Gemma soon. (no promises though) :-D
Chapter 13
Boredom, emptiness. These are the words I'd use to describe feelings, and I find myself craving Kartik's company. Why can I not get over him? Felicity is sick of my moping, and yet I can't let myself enjoy much of anything as of late.
"Miss Doyle! Tu faites-es même l'attention ?" Are you even paying attention? Mademoiselle LeFarge calls out, startling me from my thoughts. Martha and Cecily snicker, and I feel my face flush red.
"Appréciez-vous le boum?" Are you enjoying the party? LeFarge asks again, repeating her question.
What party? I ask myself at first, before remembering that this is simply an exercise. One that I'm failing. "Oui, très beaucoup." Yes, very much.
LeFarge nods, though her expression is one of disapproval. Fee gives me a sharp elbow in the back, and I turn around in my seat to face her. She frowns in worry, and asks, "Are you alright. You've seemed kind of out of it…"
I nod, reassuring her that I'm fine. But it is such a lie. Of course I'm not all right. I'm a sorry mess. To full of my own self pity to function properly. It is not just Felicity I've been lying to though. It is mainly myself. I keel telling myself that I don't care about Kartik, that I don't miss him. But it is no use. We've been through too much together, and my love for him was to great to be forgotten in a matter of days.
The clock chimes loudly, startling me. It rings out six times, its sound filling the entirety of Spence. There is only an hour until dinner, and a free period in between. I make my way up to my room, practically swept away in the swarm of students. I can hardly wait to get to my warm bed and a good book.
"Gemma dearie, you 'ave a visitor. Says 'is name's Bryce Winters."
"Bloody hell," I murmur, only loud enough for me to hear. I am so done with men. But if I am to get my revenge, I've got to play the courting game with Bryce.
"Why don' you go freshen up a bit, I'll tell 'im yer commin'"
Glancing in the mirror, I nearly do a double take. The girl in the mirror looks nothing like me. He eyes are dull and lifeless, her skin sickly pale, and strands of her hair lay limply down her face. I frown, and so does the face in the mirror. It really is me. I confess that I am disappointed at this new person I've turned into.
I pin up my hair again, and pinch at my cheeks, trying desperately to get some color in them. I smile shakily, and try my best to look care free and happy before I head down stairs to visit with Bryce.
"Good day Miss Doyle!" Bryce cries out to me cheerfully. His eyes seem to light up when I walk in the room. He's holding a huge bouquet of white roses. I walk over and curtsey slightly, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of the formality.
"For you, Gemma," He says, handing me the flowers.
"Thank you, they smell lovely," I say, deeply inhaling the fresh scent. We stand awkwardly, neither of us knowing what do say or do next.
"Why don't we go for a turn about the court yard," Mrs. Nightwing suggests. I hadn't even noticed her there, but I am grateful for her intrusion.
Bryce holds out his arm, and I take it, feeling as if I could fly about the room. Something about his jolly nature is contagious. We walk gracefully out into the courtyard. It is filled with blossoming flowers and fresh cool air. Mrs. Nightwing trails protectively behind us, never letting us out of eyesight or ear shot together.
I glance up at the school, to find the windows filled with faces watching us walk about the gardens. I remember the time when I had spied out the window on Pippa, and now I know how she must have felt. Envied. For once I feel as if some one actually is jealous of Gemma Doyle. I can't say this knowledge isn't a shock.
Bryce must have noticed my amused smile, because he asks, "What is it you're smiling about?"
I gesture up at the windows where girls eagerly spy on us, and Bryce follows my gaze, winking at the giggling girls above. "It must just be my good looks," He laughs. And I find myself laughing with him. "Or perhaps it's your stunning beauty."
My face flushes a bit and I hit him playfully.
"Or maybe we're simply too cute a couple to pass up!" He suggests, again, more serious this time.
I force a small chuckle, not knowing how to respond to such a bold statement. Is he serious? Or is it another joke? If he has noticed my hesitation, he doesn't show if, for he keeps walking, telling a story about one of his hunting trips.
I try to pay attention to him, but find myself completely distracted. Something isn't right…
I'm in a field. A beautiful field filled with flowers of every kind. The grass is bright green, and soft under my bare feet. In the distance I can see Kartik. I run for him, eager for his strong arms and warm embrace. When I reach him, he pulls me in for a kiss. But I sense that something is not right. His lips are ice cold; his eyes are a terrifying blue-white. I pull away from him, and see that it is no longer Kartik I was kissing, but Amar. His too sharp teeth cut into my lips, and I can't break away…
"Oh thank goodness yer finally awake! I 'oped you'd wake up soon."
I crack open my eyes to find Bridget fretting over me, removing a cold cloth from my forehead.
"What happened?" I ask confused. Why am I lying on a cot? Then I remember the vision…and Bryce Winters.
"Oh no! Mr. Winters!" I shout immediately alarmed.
"Don't worry about him. You fainted, probably from the heat."
I let out a sigh of relief. At least I didn't have a fit, or go crazy, or start my monthly cycle. Just a little faint. Girls in the theatre do it all of the time.
But what is my vision about? It certainly is not the first time I've had it, yet it is still as puzzling as ever. A chill runs down my spine. The realms are still dangerous I am sure. It could be nothing, or everything. And then there's the vision I'd had long ago with Kartik, of Circe on her throne of ice. I almost forgot about that. I thought I'd killed her, but perhaps she is not stuck in the well as I've thought. Perhaps she's been gaining power while I've been moping about Kartik.
The Realms. I haven't visited them in ages. I wouldn't know if they were peaceful or in utter destruction. A sense of dread fills my stomach with bricks. I've got to go. I know that Fee will come with me, she's been begging to see them anyway.
I stand up quickly, staggering a bit at finding myself suddenly upright.
"Wot are you up to? Lay back down this instant," Screeches an indignant Bridget.
"Sorry Bridget. I'll be fine. There's-there's something I've got to attend to," I say, backing out the door. As soon as I'm out of sight, I dash up the stair way to our room, taking two steps at a time, and nearly tripping in my anticipation.
I burst into the room, and Felicity nearly jumps out of her chair. "Really Gemma, there's no need to barge in so loudly." She looks at me crossly, but I don't have the time to deal with her right now.
"We need to go to the realms. I've just had a vision, and I'm worried." I spit out in one breath.
Fee finally similes, "Well its about time. Though I doubt that anything is the matter with the realms. Don't you remember how gorgeous it was last time?"
I nod my head, hoping to god that the realms are fine. But you saw Circe. Say's a tiny voice in the back of my head, and I know that as long as she's alive the realms cannot be safe. "We'll meet in the caves at midnight," I say finally.
Fee and I tiptoe out of our room, and I half expect Pippa and Ann to be following, giggling behind us. But of course, it is only Felicity and I. This knowledge reminds me again of just how long it's been since I visited the realms. Part of me is eager to see them again, and the other part is apprehensive of what I may find when we get there.
The caves are just as I remember them, the primitive yet beautiful carvings in the stone, and the rock that we used to hide the wine we used for our ceremonies. The two of us hold hands, and for a moment, as I concentrate on summoning the door, I can feel our feelings come together, uniting us in such a strong hope that I can hardly keep hold of her hand. Finally, the door appears, and we step through into the realms that we know so well, and yet, seem unknown to us.
If anything is out of place, it is not noticeable to either of us. Everything seems as magical and lovely as we left it so long ago. My heart swells with joy and I grab Fee's hands twirling her around and around until we can no longer hang on, and collapse in a dizzy heap. We lay on our stomachs on the soft, sweet smelling grass. I blow gently on the green blades, and watch with pleasure as they transform into the most perfect roses I've ever seen. How could I have thought anything would be wrong in a place like this?
"Oh Gemma, I've missed the realms so much," says Felicity, her eyes sparkling. "And you look so much happier here too! This is the first time I've seen color in your cheeks since"- Kartik but she stops herself, -"well it's been weeks."
I smile softly, "I miss him."
Fee ignores me, as I should have expected, for she doesn't understand how I could still care for him. "Let's go wade in the river!" She suggests, hiking up her skirts and running strait into the water. I follow her into the cool water, not bothering to keep my skirts from getting wet. The water is so refreshing, I dunk my head under, letting the cool water wash around my face.
"Felicity," I call, and she turns toward me. I muster a mischievous grin and point to the water. "Look at that."
She bends down to see what I'm pointing at, and I push her under. But crime always gets it's punishment, and its not long before we're wresting each other, trying to dunk the other girl. It's been so long since I've felt this happy and carefree, and it's as if the cool shining water is washing away the old, gloomy me. I'm fresh and new, and not about to let sadness touch me again.
"I suppose we ought to get back now, shouldn't we?" I ask, not truly wanting to leave, but knowing that we must eventually go.
"I suppose we should," Fee answers just as reluctantly.
We are laying on a hammock in the garden, lazily swinging back and forth, listening to the songs of the fairies, merrily buzzing about.
"Fee – there's one more thing that I'd like to do before we leave," I say, wondering if this is really or good idea or if it will only bring me grief. "I want to go visit the shattered runes." I finish, thinking of my mother.
"Of course," Fee says understandingly, "but you know your mother won't be back."
I know that she's saying it as gently as possible, but it stings never the less. I get up to go, and Felicity follows.
"Alone?" I ask, not wanting it to be anyone but my memories and me.
She opens her mouth as if to protest, but shuts it again and nods for me to go.
As I trudge up the hill to where the shattered runes still lay, my thoughts are only on my mother. The green eyes and red hair that I inherited from her, the way she wanted to protect me from the magic. And of course the part of her that was Mary Dowd – a daring and loving young lady who made a few terrible mistakes.
Before I realize it, I am crying, my tears blurring my vision and scorching my cheeks. And through the tears I see the silhouette of a woman at the top of the hill, where the runes used to be.
I close my eyes and wipe away the tears. The woman must be my imagination acting up. I open my eyes again, but she's still there. Could it be my mother? I immediately dismiss the thought, your mother is dead. I remind myself. But I can't stop my heart from hoping.
I run the rest of the way up the hill, heart hammering in my chest, but not from the running. It's because of the possibilities that the mysterious figure brings.
Finally I can make out the woman's face – and I stop dead in my tracks. This is not my mother, but I know this woman. It is my once beloved teacher Miss Moore. Circe.
Please Review! I have to admit it's getting hard to keep interest in writing this story, so it would really help if you all showered me with reviews. I'll try hard to get the next chappie up sooner than I did this one. Love you peeps!
:hugs: