Ask Me No More
Part I: The Friends
Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea;
The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape,
With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape;
But O too fond, when have I answer'd thee?
Ask me no more.
~Ask Me No More, by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
The leaves drifted down in a sublime symphony of red and gold and orange that were explosions of glory against the dull grey stone that lined Redmond's pathways. Diana Blythe looked fondly at the dignified brick buildings that framed the paths and adjusted her smart new hat that covered her mass of glossy red love-locks. She stepped briskly against the cool autumn breeze, looking very fashionable in her new, brown broadcloth suit lined with the sweetest creamy trim. She let her slim hand, wrapped in a dainty kid glove, linger along the rail as she cheerfully waved the other fingers in greeting to other Redmond students out on the lovely fall day.
Diana let out a contented sigh as she came to rest on a cast-iron bench, softened by the pleasing tangles of English ivy. Happily, she leaned back, one arm resting on the bench, luxuriating in how wonderful it felt to be happy again. It was two years after the war, and life was beginning to be glowing again. Oh, it would never be the same carefree existence as before, with riotous laughter and merry outings untouched by any shadows of doubt or fear or grief--but Diana did not mind. She was too sensible to allow lingering effects to disturb her life, for she understood where the line between remembrance and melancholy was drawn. The great sacrifices made in precious lives were not for unhappy lives lived in the shadow of the Great War, but for happy lives, ones that were always conscious of the gifts they were blessed with.
Diana made a very pretty picture of the new woman, sitting on the age-worn bench in her newly-fashioned dress. Her countenance was nothing but cheerful and intelligent. Her sweet, rosy mouth, firm with determination, hinted at the fine supply of common sense that Diana had inherited from her father. She had her weaknesses, of course, of her youth and of her character, but Diana was all in all a strong, confident woman with a fine sense of humor and confidence. But there was a certain something lacking in her features that only true, deep suffering could bring out. The war had temporarily etched those lines on the youthful face, with the death of a dearly beloved brother and the horrors of war--but Diana had been a girl still--and time is kindest to the youth. Grief and charity she had had plenty of; but Diana's character had not deepened to the extent to where she could keenly appreciate them. It is only when we love someone more than life itself when we are truly wracked by agony at the sheer thought of losing them. But until that day, Diana remained a fresh, young girl, still beautiful in the bloom of innocence.
A young man dropped down next to her on the bench, and Diana turned with interest. He was evidently new, for she did not know his handsome face. She tilted her head slightly with a vague wonder. He had a fine, clear profile that showed his nicely cut features to his best advantage. A sweep of light brown hair fell over his brow, and his eyes were a light, piercing blue-green that intrigued Diana as they indifferently turned toward her. He was only a few inches taller than slim, tall Diana, but his mature bearing made those around him mentally increase his real height. Diana decided to indulge her curiosity.
Pardon me, she offered with a little laugh bubbling under her voice. But are you new at Redmond? You don't seem to be a Freshman or a Sophomore--and I thought I knew all the Juniors and Seniors. The man looked at her in a kind of polite puzzlement, but she could sense the interest lurking beneath it.
Well, you must know them all, for, despite my-- he mockingly tugged at his vest--mature appearance, I am a sophomore. I was studying out west, and just recently came out here to complete my education. Diana laughed.
Well, you can think me a goose if you'd like, but I've always spoken my mind. The man extended a hand.
I'd never think a girl a goose for speaking her mind. Too many young ladies mince the truth and tiptoe giggling around the subject. It's refreshing to see someone who doesn't do either. Diana shook his hand, her eyes studying his face intently.
It's refreshing to hear a young man say that. Too many men want girls to be silly and frivolous. The man laughed, a dry, ironic chuckle that caught Diana's interest.
I'm sorry, he said, subsiding. Your name is--? Diana caught up her manners in a great, desperate leap.
Diana Blythe, she offered somewhat sheepishly. I'm sorry, I'm just so caught up in coming back to Redmond that my wits are somewhat frazzled. The man nodded.
That I can understand. It's a wonderful transition from being on the front. Diana nodded, her cheerful spirits dampened somewhat by the painful reminder of the war. The sorrow alleviated with his continuation of his introduction. I'm John Howard, by the way--I can't really criticize anyone's manners if I don't fulfill the expectations of etiquette myself.
It seems to me you do that at any rate, Diana quipped merrily, returning to her happy self. The man smiled, slightly sardonically.
Not a new thing to me, I suppose. Tell me, Miss Blythe, do you know the campus well? I'd appreciate a tour.
I do know the campus well, and it's Diana, if you please. Diana stood and brushed off her skirt expectantly. John nodded.
Thanks in advance, Diana, and I'm John. He offered her his arm in a courtly fashion that amused her, although he quickly reverted to his dry, twentieth century manner. Diana was intrigued by the young man. Although seemingly sarcastic and remote, he had a dear charm about him that attracted her. If all continued in a similar vein, Diana thought happily, she should have a very good friend soon. The unlikely pair wandered about the lovely old campus, getting to know each other on the clear autumn day.
I can't decide whether to destroy something or to simply scream, Diana announced, throwing herself down into a large, comfortable armchair in one of the student rooms. John unconcernedly glanced up from his thick textbook.
If you do either, you'll feel distinctly foolish about five seconds afterward, he pointed out, his reading glasses having slipped to the end of his nose. Diana sighed and looked over at him.
Yes, but won't I feel good for those five seconds? John smiled slightly as she laughed at the mental picture of her hurling something heavy across the room. Oh, dear, Diana sighed, having finished her joke for the moment. I am so dreadfully tired of studying. I've pored over Latin until I felt positively ill, let me tell you. It got so bad that it would have been a relief to see poor, little Jack Daniels come and talk to me. You know it's gotten awful when you'd be glad to see the most uninteresting man ever created.
Latin's not hard, John objected, laying down his glasses on a nearby table. In fact, it's quite easy.
Easy for you, Diana retorted. The rest of us aren't nearly as gifted in languages as you, John, as you seem to forget quite often. John shook his head and drew his chair a little close to hers.
he said, handing her a little notebook. I'll say a simple phrase, and you can translate it. All you really need is some experience, Di. Diana sighed impatiently--she hadn't come to him for a lesson, just for a little comfort and a ear to complain to. She should have known better, she thought ruefully. John never let anyone get off easy, especially her. He was always pushing her to the next level--a trait that could be both comforting and aggravating.
Aliquem salvere jubere, John began, his sweet tenor voice resonating over the soft murmur of casual conversation. Diana bit her lip.
To greet a person? she ventured. John nodded.
Quid agitur?
How are you? John smiled at her.
See, all you need is a little practice. We'll just work on it together, and you'll get it in no time. Diana smiled in return.
All right. . .I wish I could help you in something, though. John arrogantly stretched his arms back.
Ah. . . he said smoothly. I'm perfect. Giggling, Diana threw a small cushion at him, which caused him to sit up in mock offense and glare at her.
You're just lucky we're in public, he warned her, a smile lurking beneath his scowl. If I wasn't expected to be such a gentleman, you wouldn't survive. Diana laughed again.
Oh, you wouldn't have the nerve, John Howard. Diana taunted him, keeping her voice low but her expression mischievous. He raised his eyebrows.
Wouldn't I? With that, Diana leapt up out of the room, unable to contain her giggling. She escaped out into the shaded, private courtyard, panting slightly with relief and the delight of having fun. She exhaled deeply and extended her arms out, only to feel someone tickling her in her especially sensitive sides.
Diana scolded in between her hysterical laughter. John shot her an innocent blue-eyed look.
Diana only laughed, shook her head, gathered up her purse, and started out the courtyard.
I'll see you tomorrow, John, she called over her shoulder as she left.
Yes, I'll see you, he replied, smiling, as he stuck his hands in his pockets. With a familiar grin, he returned to his chair and his textbook.
The next day, Diana and John cut French to go walking in the woods.
I should feel horribly guilty, Diana said laughingly, tripping along the forest. John only smiled and glanced over at her. She was looking especially pretty today, he thought a trifle wistfully, as he noticed her sage green sweater and blue and green plaid skirt that complemented her beautiful twist of auburn hair and creamy skin.
Although I can't imagine why, Diana continued, looking over at the light blue sky stirred by the gentle autumn breezes. Monsieur doesn't even bother to show up half the time, and when he does, he just flirts with the pretty girls in our class. I haven't learned a word of French besides Enchante, Mademoiselle' and L'amour.' She laughed happily. I shouldn't go on so--it really is dreadful of me.
Not all the pretty girls in the class, John said, before he could bite back the words. Diana threw him a startled look.
John felt a slight warmth come into his cheeks, and he glanced away from Diana's inquisitive eyes.
He doesn't flirt with all the pretty girls in our class. Diana lifted an eyebrow.
Which one does he miss, then? John swallowed hard.
Diana laughed heartily at that, leaving John slightly annoyed and more than a little embarrassed.
Me? Pretty? Oh, John, you have to say that because you're my chum. But, really, I won't be hurt by the truth. I know I'm angled and have red hair and green eyes--nothing particularly conductive to beauty, I'm afraid. John shrugged.
Well, I think you're pretty, Di, he said lightly, looking at the sculpted texture of the bark on a nearby tree. He ran his hand up the roughness of the surface. A slightly awkward silence fell between the two chums as they strolled through the forest together. Shafts of pure, white light illuminated areas of the mossy ground and turned bits of dust into faeries with the beams. Great, damp hollows were hidden by the encircling trees that reached strong arms around the place to both hide and protect. The young woman and man looked oddly comfortable among the untamed nature, with their souls that were sufficiently different from the norm to be happy here and discontented with their more prosaic peers.
John Howard has a notion of courting you, Nan Blythe said bluntly to her sister as they sat, preparing for a dance that night. Diana blushed to the roots of her red hair at the suggestion.
Don't be silly, Nan, she said quickly and defensively, twisting two strings of pearls together to tie around her slender, creamy neck. We're just chums, that's all. Nan shot her a knowing look.
Diana sighed in exasperation as she bent down to retrieve her satin gloves and hide her flushing face for a moment.
Yes, chums! I don't see why I can't be friends with a man! Just because I spend time with him doesn't mean he's courting me!
Calm down, Diana, Nan reassured her, casting her a puzzled glance. I was only teasing you a bit. Diana frowned and jerked her hair into place with a little more energy than necessary.
I wish you wouldn't, she said to her sister. It's going to be awful when the gossips decide we're courting--I don't need my own sister dropping hints to speed up that day. Nan nodded in sympathy. Despite her marked preference for Jerry Meredith, many young men came wooing the girl. Diana had sometimes felt a slight pang of envy for her pretty sister, whose nut brown curls attracted people as Diana's ruddy tresses never did. While Nan's eyes flashed at an approaching man, Diana's merely stared levelly and sensibly at him. Nan possessed an inviting touch of coquettishness, while Diana preferred to deal with a suitor as his equal. Needless to say, most young men went to Diana's better half, as she fondly referred to her twin. Diana's common sense usually overpowered the rankling of her girlish heart when seeing her own apparent defects. But she was still young, and no daughter of Anne Shirley could remain entirely sensible in all affairs of life.
Your flowers have come, girls, said the matronly voice of Mrs. Brown, their landlady. Nan promptly pounced on the woman, who smiled patiently and handed over her packages.
Let's see. . . Nan said, examining the boxes with a keen eye. Red roses for me, from Jerry. . .and well, goodness, it's some violets from Mr. Howard for you, sister dear. Diana's face flushed once again as she took the box from Nan and peered inside.
That's nice of John, Diana said innocently, trying a cluster of violets in her hair.
Indeed. Here, Di, let me give this a shot. Diana's hands dropped to the side while Nan rearranged and puffed hair to her content. I'm so glad that you haven't done anything awful with your hair, Di, Nan continued, twisting a section of hair so it framed Diana's face. It's really lovely.
But red, Diana said gloomily, watching her reflection with dissatisfaction.
Red hair is beautiful, Nan shot back. And yours is like Mother's--so thick and wavy. Mine's dreadfully fine and straight. I can't do anything with it all. Diana smiled indulgently at her sister.
You are the loveliest creature that ever set foot on Redmond, Nan dear. And I will bask in the reflected glory of your beauty. Nan laughed and finished with Diana's hair.
There, you flattering goose, you're finished. Now stand by me and let's admire ourselves. The two, fresh-faced girls stood arm in arm, watching their pretty reflections in the glass. Nan stood resplendent in her rose-coloured crepe dress with satin trimmings while Diana wore a pale lavender satin gown with a darker sash. Both girls had puffed and curled their locks to the content of their girlish hearts, worn identical strings of pearl and white satin gloves, and carried flowers in slim hands, but the greatest adornment of all their finery was their sweet, blossoming innocence.
Nan cried triumphantly. I'm glad you wore the lavender, Di, she continued in a confidential tone. No one believes how marvelous a redhead looks in lavender until they see it for themselves.
was Diana's elegant reply as she exited the room. Nan laughed and dashed after her sister, her cheeks pink with excitement and happiness. The front hall of Mrs. Brown's house was filled with people. Jem was there, with a beautiful and joyous Faith Meredith on his arm; Shirley, who seemed to be paying an unusual amount of attention to his pretty companion for the evening; Carl, who was escorting the lovely Miss Randolph that night; and, of course, John and Jerry, who looked up expectantly for Nan and Diana.
Jerry automatically moved towards Nan with a wide smile on his face, but John paused a moment, looking at Diana's slim form, the profile of which was highlighted by the ivory wallpaper behind her. The delicate curves of cheek and chin stood out perfectly, and he drew in a sharp breath. He had harbored a strong fancy for his friend for quite some time, but seeing her sweet face looking towards him now, he knew that he loved her with all his heart, as he would not--could not--love any other woman on the world. The wave of emotion that rolled over him in those few precious seconds illuminated so many questions for him. Love was not a great mystery after all, but a very real, albeit magical, thing. A greater power than man knew that his children needed the reason for life to be accessible to their mortal hands. Diana broke through his musings with a puzzled look.
What is it? she asked. John mentally shook himself and held out his hand to help her down the stairs.
You look very pretty, he said, the words sounding absurd even to his own stunned ears. Diana laughed and playfully nudged his arm.
Goodness, I must be wonderful tonight! I got John to use the word he so dreads!' A ripple of laughter ran through the couples, and John offered Diana his arm.
I'll give you that, Miss Blythe.
Why, thank you, Mr. Howard, Diana returned in the style of playful mocking the two had established as their usual form of discourse. Nan and Jerry exchanged knowing looks, remembering a couple who had also used arguing in place of honeyed words when they were courting.
I told you so, Nan said to Jerry with a decided nod.
asked Faith as she finished adjusting Jem's tie, which he took with a long suffering and secretly pleased expression. Nan giggled, but managed to swallow her laughter just in time.
I'll tell you later, she said. Diana shot a suspicious glance in their direction, but seeing nothing amiss from the usual flirtations, returned complacently to chatting with John.
said Jerry thoughtfully as the group left the room. Most interesting indeed.
Carl asked, in a tone of extreme exasperation. Why do I always miss the interesting things? Miss Cynthia Randolph, a blond beauty whose majestic loveliness was somewhat belied by her mischievous manner, gestured and winked at Diana, who was unaffectedly talking with John.
Oh. . . Carl said, his voice suddenly gaining understanding. I see. Jerry elbowed his brother.
he hissed softly. Or we'll have Diana after us--and you know as well as I do how dangerous it can be to insult a redhead. Carl's eyes opened wide at that reminder, and he promptly returned to small talk with the others.
Meanwhile, Diana and John walked a little to the side, talking and merrily laughing together. However, Diana's mirth was a little feigned tonight, for the bulk of her mind was concerned with the suggestion of more than friendship with John. She was, unquestionably, very fond of him. Yes, very fond. But love? She mentally shook her head. No. She had not yet discovered that all-compassing feeling in her short life, and she knew that it did not exist with John.
she said aloud. The entire party paused amid their conversations to look at her. Can I talk with you for a moment? John's brows drew together in confusion, but he nodded.
Certainly, Di, he agreed, following her into a sheltered alcove of pine trees. Diana sat down on a mossy stump, her gown pooling at her feet in a cloud of satin. Her lashes lowered over her eyes, which were soft and tender in the moonlight. She bit her lower lip, and in the midst of all that seemed more pressing, John noticed how beautiful her face was. The thing that struck him most about her was that while other girls hid behind a vermeer of rouge and other cosmetics, Diana remained as pure and as natural as her unadorned and beautiful soul. There was a sweet kind of simplicity that drew John to her. Diana drew in a breath, noticing for the first time in her life the effort it required to do so.
she began hastily, before she lost her resolve. This is going to be horribly, terribly rude of me to say this to you--and I don't mean to sound dreadfully conceited, but--but-- her voice broke off as John slowly sat down on a nearby rock.
I see, he said slowly. Let me guess, all right, Di? I've got a knack for guessing what people want to say. Diana nodded, feeling absolutely relieved. She pressed her palm against her seat, leaning back. John thoughtfully looked at his hands.
You want to be friends with me, but don't want anyone to throw any sentimental rot in the way of our platonic friendship. You also don't want to encourage any romantic feelings I might have towards you, for you want things to remain the way they are. Diana stared at him, her mouth falling apart a little in surprise.
I--yes, that's exactly it.
See, that wasn't so hard, was it, Di? John chided playfully, raising her to her feet. Diana managed to recover some of her wit and elbowed him.
I'd like to see you initiate it, Mr. Howard, Diana flung back at him, now relaxed. They returned to the main road and their conversation, but this time it was John, and not Diana who was hiding feelings. A sting had hidden behind his smiles as he had candidly laid out the situation between the two of them. John looked up at the starlight that glimmered elusively through the trees. Someday, Di, I'll be worthy of your love, and then I'll win it. But I can't ask it of you now--it must be you who brings about the subject.
And so the two friends walked along the gently winding path to a night of merriness, both were happily unaware of the curtain being drawn over this act of their lives. This act had passed, and soon a new one would be played on the greatest stage of all.
End of Part I.
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Author's Note: All characters are property of their respective owners. This has been posted before, first on the Anne3 forum, and later Avonlea, but I wanted to give it a bit of a chance here as well. Reviews are appreciated. :)