Paige Osborn

Pre-AP English II

Mrs. Joslin

26 May 2011

Flash-forward for Behemoth by Scott Westerfeld

Deryn could remember. It was painful and heart wrenching to watch the years of her life unfold beneath her eyelids, but she could remember and watch each mistake time after time. She would replay every scene. Every word would be whispered again in her ear. And his touch would smooth over her skin, sending chills up her spine and start that intoxicating buzz in the back of her skull. She would see his face, young and daring, untouched by the stress of the world on his shoulders. The Prince of Austria, Alek.

She waited patiently outside the door. She tried not to let her nervousness, her absolute bone crushing fear be seen. Elizabeth was already sobbing. She would do no one any good by breaking down now. Her stomach churned and her body ached again, as it always did, as she looked at the Duchess. She knew this time weathered friend: Jealousy. The young prince took his mother's hand gently, letting her lean on him for support while his other hand was clenched by the young girl beside him, both holding on as if for dear life. For their father's life, she thought sympathetically and that overpowering grief poured over her again. She was an outsider here, she knew, no matter how much Alek may have tried to convince everyone otherwise. His wife was Elizabeth and there was no place for her with her only and best friend. Friend, just a friend, that's all he ever saw me as, Deryn couldn't help but think bitterly. I was his role model as a boy, but, when I became a girl again, I was simply a friend. And her thoughts drifted back to the Leviathan, the Great War, Alek, her Alek, Prince Alek, not the Duke Aleksander he had become.

She remembered the first time she had glimpsed Duke Aleksander, his hardening face, when his eyes still shone with the pride and honor she had first seen in them back on that icy tundra in Switzerland, but shadows lurked hauntingly around him. Ruling a country had already started to break the boy she had known, the boy she had loved, the same boy who had shunned her. Then, she was back on the Leviathan as they touched down, yet again, in the middle of the park where they had first picked up Dr. Barlow. She remembered the piercing glares and furtive glances, the hushed whispers and awkward courtesies, but mostly, the shaming, most humiliating reaction of outrage from Alek. His trembling hands, his ragged breathing, his betrayed look, his disbelieving eyes. She had known from that moment that nothing would ever be the same. Her dearest friend had cast her aside. She had, after all, deceived him, lied to him. She had been discharged from the air service, flung from her only home aboard the living Darwinist airship Leviathan, and spurned by the family that was the crew that had thought they had known her. She had been utterly alone.

Even as the years crawled along and the post-war chaos died down, she heard no word from the person whom her whole world now revolved around. Only when a blank envelope dropped heavily onto her desk in her small room in the attic of her aunt's home, did she know he hadn't completely forsaken her. She had clutched the elegant writing closely, almost sobbing with the joy that whelmed up inside her. He didn't hate her! It was the small, fluttering light in her twisted dark forest she had made for herself. It had helped her to bear the constant fawning and scolding of her aunt on how to be a "proper lady", and the courters she set her up with at local festivals until the next unmarked envelope dropped heavily onto her desk. She had longed to write back, to pour her own apologies onto the page that his eyes would glance over, maybe as lost as her own, as they deepened into a midnight blue as they did when he had spoken of his home, his lost family. Or maybe, they would lighten and sparkle as he remembered the young middy she had been, laying in the freezing snow in a night lit by the green glow of the airship, huddling in the dark silence of the night as they talked about things that would never be again, standing atop the Leviathan in the open air above the sea, swords posed, his hands on her arms as he corrected her stance.

She was shocked when no blank envelope came, but one that had his elegant hand scrawled across the front. An invitation. She was to join him in Austria. She was to stay at his palace. She was going to see Alek…

She had gone. She was bursting as she traveled across the war scarred countries. She was going to see Alek, her Alek. But, she had been faced with Duke Aleksander. His face had been hardened, his eyes shadowed, his body frail yet broad. She had felt her disobedient heart reach out to him. It wanted to offer him compassion, a shoulder. It wanted to offer him his friend. It wanted to offer her him. She resisted as she had stood in the door way, waiting, in shock, disbelief, and joy, at seeing him again. He smiled weakly and Alek, pure Alek, shone through. Deryn's face had broken into a grin and she let the taboo fall. He was her's again.

After that, Deryn visited Alek several times, always leaving stuffy London, England for the beautiful, rolling, endless gardens and grandeur of Alek's Austria-Hungary home. She grew closer to him. She was happy again. Yet, he treated her as he had Dylan, as he had when she had pretended to be a boy. She worried and wondered if he would ever be able to see her, the true her, not Dylan the Middy, and not Deryn the Lady, but Deryn, his friend, and maybe more. But her hopes were dashed.

It had been his 22nd birthday. Deryn had been teased and goaded by Alek into wearing a dress for the party. She moved awkwardly among the distinguished Clanker guests. Everyone knew she was a Darwinist. It had become a controversial topic for the nobles' gossip. Yet, they let her be, casting furtive glances, and disapproving glares. They were all still miffed about losing the war, even if the Duke had demanded there be peace. The whispers and prying eyes took her back to when Alek and the crew had discovered her secret, to when she had been disowned, and she had retreated to the balcony. Halfway through the party, Alek came for her, a pretty noble blonde on his arm. Her heart had clenched and a hot smoldering started under her skin. Alek hadn't noticed.

"Deryn, I would like you to meet Elizabeth," Alek gesture towards the blonde. Her hair fell in pretty gentle waves down her back, shimmering with the light of the candles from inside, her pale skin was smooth and perfect, and her green eyes sparkled and shined with adoration every time she glanced up at Alek. Deryn knew she never stood a chance.

Three years later, Alek and Elizabeth were married. Alek had Deryn come to every ceremony, every little party, shower, or event. She knew he only wanted to make up for ignoring her, for pushing her away all those years ago, but her heart wept every time Alek gazed down at Elizabeth and her perfect porcelain doll body. While she threaded her arm through his and they smiled at each other with that look. Yet, she loved Alek, she had admitted it to herself long ago, so she would stand by him, even as he fell in love and married another woman. She wouldn't raise her voice, she wouldn't advert her eyes. She would watch every minute, because each minute she was able to see a happy smiling Alek, her Alek, now Elizabeth's Alek. He was now Elizabeth's Aleksander. He would look to her no more. And she accepted it. Because loving someone meant doing what would make them happy, even at your own expense.

The doctor exited the room, softly closing the door behind him. He glanced once at Deryn then made his way over to Elizabeth. He put his hand on Prince Jakob's shoulder who glanced at his mother then at Princess Anna, her golden hair just as her mother's but her father's eyes pleaded with him. Don't go, they said in their shimmering way. Deryn knew how hard it was to say no to those eyes. Jakob straightened, his 9 year old body growing into the precious image of Alek Deryn had known aboard the living airship Leviathan. Now without their anchor, Alek's wife and daughter gripped each other, mother sobbing on daughter's shoulder, Deryn leaning peacefully against the wall, alone. Utterly alone, she thought as she glanced at the door Alek's son had disappeared through.

Jakob popped his head out of a crack in the door. "Auntie Deryn," he whispered, trying not to let his mother hear, "he wants to see you." His face twisted into slight confusion as he spoke, attempting to puzzle out why his father had requested Deryn, the woman from London, rather than his mother on his deathbed. Deryn also questioned it slightly but her bewilderment was pushed aside momentarily by elation. Alek wanted to see her.

She slipped in silently, careful not to startle the sickly 35 year old Duke. She watched him carefully, waiting for a hint as to whether it was Duke Aleksander whom had requested her, or, dare she think it, her Alek. His blue eyes were clouded and murky gray as they stared unseeingly as the ceiling. Deryn knew he was thinking. His hair was still pitch black and hung loosely around his ears. She deemed it safe and softly cleared her throat. His eyes turned on her and her heart broke as he searched her face, attempting to place her to a name and person long muddled by a sick mind. "Deryn," his voice cracked. Tears came unbidden to her eyes as she strode to his side and fell into the chair by his bed.

"I'm here Alek," she choked out, "I've always been here."

He nodded sagely. "I know," he said simply. It was her Alek. Deryn felt her body go numb.

"Please, don't leave us, Alek, your family needs you, your country needs you," Deryn pleaded with him. She found his hand and gripped it gently and firmly.

He coughed a raspy laugh, "This country needs a strong-willed man who has known nothing but this life, Deryn. Otherwise, they would never be happy here. They would always be wishing for a freedom they once knew." He glanced away towards the window as his voice softened slowly.

"Is that what you did?"

Alek laughed. "Of course, Deryn. I was assumed dead at one point. I was unbound by laws of nobility. I was free."

"You were on the Leviathan."

"The first and only Clankers who ever were," he added proudly.

"We were on its last flight," Deryn remarked softly, sadly. She was an airman at heart. It was always a sad thing to see a great ship like the Leviathan go.

"Yes, we were."

Silence. Deryn still gripped Alek's hand and she squeezed it now. They shared what was unspoken, what could never be spoken. They who made this peace, they could never wish for those times, times of war and hate and bloodshed. Times of freedom. It had been a time of joy for both of them.

Alek stared out the window. "I never did finish teaching you how to fence."

Deryn snorted, "I don't think I want to learn. Takes too much stillness." She scrunched up her face and grimaced at the memory of the soreness of her body after each of his lessons. Then the memory of his hands on her skin. She blushed.

Alek glanced up at her and grinned. She hadn't seen him grin in years. "You can't stand being in one place can you?" His face slowly relaxed into his peaceful porcelain mask.

All she could manage was to shake her head. His grin had caught her off guard. Now all she could see was 15 year old Alek, aboard the Leviathan, shuffling across the barren snowy flatness in the dead of night, peering across at her in their secret cubby in the Leviathan as they recalled times of happiness, his hands on her shoulders as he gripped them, making her promise to keep his identity a secret from the captain, his smile in the hotel in Istanbul, all Alek, her Alek, who was here now.

He smiled wistfully and Deryn drew in her breath, "I figured." His eyes were slightly bitter and she knew his pain.

"I'm sorry, Alek," she whispered softly, unsure if she should speak, for fear Elizabeth would come barging in. "But…" she glanced back at the door, no sign of the blonde Duchess, "I would have born the burden with you."

Alek shook his head, "You were meant to be in the air. You were meant to be a boy. Yet, I couldn't wish for that happiness for you." He sighed and glanced back out the window. He squeezed her hand, "I think I'll rest now." He laid his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes.

Silence again. "Keep talking," he urged.

Deryn complied. "I haven't wanted to be a boy since I was discharged from the air service, Alek."

He was unresponsive, but Deryn had expected this. Alek would listen, giving no input until the next conversation after having thought on what was said for at least an hour. Old age and politics had ripened him and made him cautious.

"I hated being a girl when I went back to live with my aunt, yes, but I never wanted to be a boy. Not like I did when I met you, when I wanted to fly on Leviathan." She stroked her thumb on the back of his hand as he held it close. The doctor had suggested routine activities, and soothing, calming touches to keep him grounded. "I never considered being a boy again; it never seemed like a real option. Not even dressing up like one was appealing."

Alek's laugh was raspy and unused and Deryn enjoyed in the fact she was able to make him laugh. "I felt obligated," she continued, "to you and your family. You saved my life more than once. I owed you."

Alek cracked an eye open and glared. Deryn jumped. "You saved my life as well, Deryn. You owe me nothing. I won't let you owe me a single thing. I repay my debts and I would never hold you here. You are free. You are the Leviathan, Deryn, you're meant to be free. Don't you ever forget that."

Deryn simply nodded. Alek was being unusual today. He was animated and lively. Yet, the doctor had said it was only a matter of days. Alek's eyes slid back closed and Deryn breathed a silent sigh of relief. "It doesn't matter, what matters is the fact that I stayed. I stayed with you and Elizabeth. I would never have left here. You're my family now. My only family left." Deryn paused as the truth of it sunk in for her. She really never would have left. Even if Alek had ordered her away, she would have found a reason, a way to stay here with him. He was her only reason. How pathetic was she? Living for a married man.

"Elizabeth is bawling out there, poor Anna's dress must be soaked by now, and Jakob was completely confused." Deryn attempted for a lighter mood.

"You're confused as well?"

She nodded. Alek smirked.

"You're not going to tell me are you?" Alek simply kept smirking. "You're still such a child, Aleksander Ferdinand." Deryn huffed.

The doctor peeked in through the door, "Ms. Sharp, they're saying it's almost time for supper. You'll need to finish up for now." Deryn nodded stiffly as the door shut before turning back to Alek. His eyes were still closed and he hadn't jumped nor flinched at the sudden appearance of the doctor.

Deryn sighed. "Still," she glanced at his peaceful mask, "I wouldn't have left, no matter what you did Alek, you couldn't have made me leave. This is where I chose to be, at your side." She squeezed his hand and glanced down at him, "So…" she started attentively, "Don't ever leave, you bum-rag. Okay?" She glared down at him and sighed. "I couldn't bear losing you, not again," she whispered. She lifted his hand and brought it to her cheek, "'Cause I love you, you barking clart-head." She resorted to her airman speech again, just to let him know, just to see if he would know, just how long she had waited to say that.

She set his hand down and smiled, he wouldn't respond until tomorrow. She knew she had done the taboo, the only taboo she had left, but it was her last chance, and she had taken it. She stood to leave and the doctor came back in. He lifted Alek's hand and frowned. Elizabeth and the two children streamed in behind him. Elizabeth's eyes were pink and puffy, her nose red and shiny while Anna's dress was stained at the shoulder and the hem of the sleeves. Deryn breathed a sigh of relief that she had managed to get that out before they barged in. How embarrassing would that be? Telling your best friend, your married best friend you love him right as his family walks in. Not only that, but they were impossible, which only hurt, and yet, reassured her at the same time. No matter what Deryn said, nothing could have become of it, she was a commoner, and Alek was a Duke.

The doctor let out a sigh, ran his hand over his face, and sat down heavily in the chair. "He's gone," he whispered.

Deryn's heart stopped.