Summer Freeze
Author: SNa9oABC
Characters: Lucius, Ivy, Kitty
Summary: "Even in the summer heat, Lucius' heart crystallized beneath the frozen gaze of his guilt." Why Lucius Hunt stopped holding Ivy Walker. Lucius/Ivy, One-Shot
Disclaimer: Not mine. Quite obviously.
Summer Freeze
It was two o'clock. The morning sun had lazily shifted into the heat of the summer afternoon. A group of children ran to the resting rock, shrieking at one another as they tumbled up the hill. The sound of creaking rocking chairs on shaded porches could be heard around every corner. And a sixteen-year-old Lucius Hunt trekked his way across the village commons, Kitty Walker in tow.
"...and I think his behavior is absolutely unacceptable, don't you agree, Lucius?" Lucius nodded absently, thankful that her questioning required minimal response. Kitty had asked him to walk home with her, and he couldn't bring himself to refuse. For five minutes, she had rambled about Christop Crane's charades in their classes that day. Lucius suspected that her reproof was simply an attempt to heighten her façade of maturity, but he didn't say as much. He allowed her to continue as she pleased, for they had little in common; he did not feel like exerting the effort required to find an appropriate topic of conversation. After a minute, his mind was already drifting, and he focused on the drops of sweat rolling down his back.
They rounded the corner past the glass house, and the Walker's home came into view. Lucius let out a heavy breath, nearly exhausted from listening to her banter.
"...but you would think he wouldn't be like that since his broth - IVY!" Kitty shrieked towards the house. Lucius winced at her abrupt outburst. There, lounging in the shade of the porch, was Ivy Walker. At the sound of her name, she stood up rather awkwardly. Lucius broke a small grin. She had recently received a new walking cane for her twelfth birthday - she had been dangerously close to outgrowing her original one - but the additional height proved a steep learning curve. She held it close to her chest and attempted a wave in their direction. Kitty waved back needlessly, and began to jog towards the house. Lucius followed quietly.
Kitty bounded up the steps towards Ivy's extended hands and the sisters embraced on the porch.
"Welcome home!" said Ivy, smiling. She and Kitty spoke quietly for a minute, leaving Lucius standing uncomfortably in the grass before their house. Ivy's face suddenly expressed concern.
"Have you seen Noah?" she asked.
"I believe I saw him running towards resting rock with the other children just minutes ago."
Ivy considered this for a moment, then turned unexpectedly towards Lucius.
"Lucius Hunt, would you mind awfully if you escorted me to the resting rock?" Lucius tore his eyes away from the ground and gazed at her, amazed. He was so surprised she had recognized his presence that he hesitated to respond.
"I... I... no. No, I wouldn't mind," he muttered clumsily, going back to gazing at his feet. Ivy seemed satisfied with his response, and with a few quick taps of her cane, she was down the steps and by his side. "Thank you!" she said playfully, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. Lucius smiled in spite of himself.
"Oh Lucius, I think it is so noble that you are willing to help my poor sister!" Kitty exclaimed dramatically. Lucius felt the flush cover his face.
"I don't mind," he responded softly.
Kitty appeared immensely satisfied after evoking such a reaction. With a "Goodbye, Lucius" and a quick turn on her heel, she entered her house and left Ivy and the boy alone.
What happened next was automatic. Ivy extended her left arm forward. Lucius came to his place at her side, tucked her elbow into his, and wrapped his hand around her wrist. Without a word, he steered her. They began walking together, Ivy swinging her oversized cane in front of her while humming an indistinct tune under her breath. Lucius reveled in the silence and the slight tapping on the ground, finally feeling at ease. He wanted to ask how she had noticed him, but decided better of it. Ivy said nothing, drumming her fingers absently along the tops of his knuckles.
"I do believe I'm getting better at this," Ivy spoke cheerfully, nodding towards her cane.
"Has it been very difficult?"
"No, but I believe I will have to adjust my counts."
Her counts. When Ivy first began suffering from sight loss, she had opted out of playing children's games for the more useful occupation of memorizing her surroundings. Not being the most playful person himself, Lucius was a ready companion for the afflicted child. He would walk beside her, the same way they were doing now, and navigate through the village hundreds of times counting the taps of her cane against the ground. He had been surprised how much he enjoyed her company. He and Ivy had never been close before. He was four years her elder and they had rarely crossed paths. But as she began to lose her sight, it seemed as if she had been drawn to him. Lucius knew it was ridiculous to think such things, but he could not deny that she began to cling to his side shortly after her vision began to leave. He was certain that without her blindness, they would have never been friends. And in a way, her blindness may have been the greatest blessing of his life.
Lucius quickly shook the thought from his head, sickened by the selfishness of his musings.
They rounded a corner and began to make their way up the hill. Ivy, who had been chatting off-handedly, suddenly turned toward Lucius with a most roguish gaze.
"What? What is it?" Lucius asked, concerned by the mischief in her eyes.
"I do believe," Ivy exclaimed, fighting back her own giggling, "that my dearest sister fancies you!" With this, control failed, and she let forth a short burst of laughter. Lucius blanched, only slightly. Kitty? Fancy him? The thought had never crossed his mind. Certainly, she was a nice girl... but Lucius didn't... she wasn't... he couldn't even imagine...
Lucius' silence had lasted too long, and Ivy nearly exploded from containing herself. She released herself from his grasp and turned to face him directly. "Oh! Lucius," her voice lowered to a whisper, "you do not share these sentiments?" The smirk on her face frightened him.
"I... well..." Lucius attempted to defend himself.
"Oh, how absolutely scandalous!" She shrieked in mock horror. "Lucius Hunt, you are the most foul, wicked, reprehensible being in this entire village!"
"She's a very nice girl?"
With this, Ivy lost all control. She staggered away from him, leaning on her cane, keeled over in a fit of unstoppable mirth. Her bout of amusement did not end here. As soon as the laughter had slowed enough so she could right herself, she broke into a skip, twirling around in the grass on the hill. She spun her arms in wide circles and her cane skimmed the tops of dandelions. Her giggles died into a tune that she sang without constraint.
Lucius stopped walking and watched, transfixed. It was more than just childhood foolery. Her blindness made it an art. He wondered how her steps could be so confident in her darkness. She would stumble every now and then along the grassy slope, but it seemed she had no thought of injury when she began to dance. He felt compelled to join her in her celebration, but he decided not to intrude on the moment. That is, until the moment intruded on him.
Her song did not rest as she drifted back towards him, spinning and hopping in the process. She stopped directly in front of him, and immediately ceased her singing. She painted a serious expression on her face, but the amusement had not left her eyes. Lucius almost moved to claim her arm, for he knew she could not possibly know he was standing there. That thought abruptly left his mind.
With two exaggerated steps, she closed the distance between them. Planting her cane in the dirt and leaning precariously over the top of it, she moved her face towards Lucius', stopping just inches from the tip of his nose. The sudden proximity of their bodies caused his breath to catch in his throat. The blood seemed to pound through his veins and the summer heat felt more stifling than ever. Ivy was completely still as she gazed up towards his eyes and began to speak.
"Lucius Hunt," she whispered as if divulging a tantalizing secret, "one day, we are going to be married!"
Lucius' mouth dropped open, but no noise came out. Hundreds of words bubbled up in his throat, but he swallowed them down, terrified of what might escape him. He could feel his stomach drop to the grass, the blood rise to his face, and something deep in his gut urge him to breach the inches between their faces. Realization rushed through his body. He wanted to kiss her.
He was horrified.
Ivy did not wait for a response. Her face burst into a full grin, and she immediately lifted her cane and ran along the hill with her laughter trailing behind her. The song was brought forth once again and she resumed dancing in circles on the hill.
Lucius did not watch her. Slowly, he trudged his way towards the resting rock with the penetrating sun floating skyward. His thoughts were messy and incomplete. Disgust began to seep into his body as he collected his scattered feelings and piled them neatly in the darkest regions of his mind. How could he have been so close to... that? She was only twelve... just a child... she didn't know what she was saying. Just a child... and he had almost kissed her. Not because she asked him, but because he had wanted to. Unconsciously, the fear and shame crept beneath his skin and settled in between his pores. They would stay there for many years.
Her voice drew closer as she began to skip and twirl in his wake. A single drop of sweat rolled off his brow and he gave a deep sigh of frustration. Even in the summer heat, Lucius' heart crystallized beneath the frozen gaze of his guilt.
Soon, the yelling of the boys could be heard at the top of the hill. Ivy ran up to the opposite side of him, this time placing her arm under his. Her fingers brushing along his skin sent another wave of heat through Lucius, and he flinched when she wrapped her hand around his wrist. Ivy had noticed, and he could barely stand the uncertainty that flashed across her features. But she recovered quickly; it was gone almost as soon as it had appeared.
Ivy fully renewed her smile, peering up at him saying, "It is now my turn to lead you, Lucius Hunt!" And with that, she pulled ahead, dragging his arm towards the sounds of the boys' shouting. He trailed along with no response, keeping his eyes on the ground. He could barely stand the feeling of her arm against his; he considered asking her to remove it more than once.
The hill leveled. The voices of the children became vibrant and absorbing in the sun's gaze. Eventually, the young villagers caught sight of the small blind girl—a few stray shouts of "Ivy!" were enough to release her suffocating grasp from his arm. She gave him a brief smile and ran off; Lucius exhaled deeply.
It happened before the air had fully left his lungs: Ivy's oversized cane became lodged upon the wrong side of a rock. An ankle caught the wooden staff; her frame twisted, and with a small shriek, she landed heavily on the left side of her body. Within moments, there was no lack of people surrounding her. Noah stumbled to her side, muttering wildly as he helped to lift her off the bed of dirt and grass. Hands supported her weight and brushed the filth from her dress.
But Lucius stood still, frozen cold in the odd, midday solstice. His hands fidgeted uncomfortably and his expression screwed into the most uncomfortable knot, but he would not move to her side. And as the cane was placed back in Ivy Walker's hands, her unseeing eyes focused steadily on his stolid figure. She knew that he had not come to her side, that his arms weren't among those lifting her. The expression he saw in her face collided with his chest like falling timber. There was a lack of anger, a lack of desire, a lack of painful wanting in her eyes. In their place rested a far more terrible thing—a simple, child-made love.
He turned his back on her gaze and made his descent back towards the village commons. Ivy did not blink until the sheen of his iron-clad heart had stopped glimmering in the summer heat. She didn't need sight to see emptiness. The void pulsed drowsily in the heavy air, speaking of newly rooted barriers and a seed that lingered, nourished in their chests. She whispered a quiet promise to the warm breeze and turned a brilliant grin towards the world.
That was the day Lucius Hunt stopped holding Ivy Walker.