AN: I promise, I really am working on another Ben piece, and a non-serious one at that. This one just demanded that I write it first. It was difficult to capture Ricardo's voice when he's more Ricardo than Richard, but I did my best.

Tapestry

"You spun all of this thread yourself?"

Without glancing up from the loom before him, Jacob said, "I had the time."

Peering at the strange pattern, Ricardo stepped closer to the mass of threads. While Jacob had chosen simple colors, contrasting gold and black, the pattern puzzled Ricardo the more he studied it. Though most of the threads waited to be woven, he could see how symbols that he did not recognize bordered the top. A pair of wings reached out from an encircled eye, but it did not appear to be a human eye. Seventeen long arms emanated like rays out from the eye, and Ricardo wondered Jacob meant for the eye to represent the sun, or if perhaps the odd design was simply that: a design, and nothing more. "Did you plan for it to look like that, or is it simply…?"

This time, Jacob turned around to stare at Ricardo. "Saying that this is just a design is like saying this is just an island."

Ricardo bowed his head, ashamed that he had misspoken, even unintentionally. Having only recently been a mortal, that that left him many opportunities to speak out of ignorance to someone with all the answers, like Jacob. "What do those symbols mean? What will the rest look like?"

Turning back to the tapestry, Jacob replied, "It reads, 'May the gods grant thee all that thy heart desires.' The hands you see at the end of these arms will reach out to nine mortals."

Though Ricardo wanted to ask if the hands represented some kind of gods, he withheld his questions out of fear of trying Jacob's patience. Jacob continued, "A king will sit on a throne and watch on each side. Below that, seven humans will dance to the music of a harpist. By these dancers will sit four water jugs, and in the rows underneath, laborers will harvest wheat."

Eyes wide, Ricardo gaped as he marveled at how many years Jacob would be so calmly weaving one thread after another, spending his hours standing there in solitude before the loom. In fact, Jacob had told Ricardo that he planned to send Ricardo away just as soon as others were brought to the Island, and then Jacob would be completely alone. Breaking Ricardo's thoughts, Jacob added, "That's not all of it, though."

"But why create all of this?"

"You see anything else to do?"

"The other man, who wanted me to kill you—surely after all this time you could reach some agreement?"

Sliding his fingers behind a group of the front threads, Jacob tugged them forward. Then he gently pulled down on the back fibers, bringing them through the front threads, and sighed. "Not with him, Ricardus."

Ricardo had long given up asking why the white-clad man called him by that name. Shifting slightly to the right, Jacob started again, pulling and looping until an entire row had been woven. At that point he reached for two ends of the yarn, wound them onto a spindle, and knotted it there. With the pointed end of the bobbin he beat the threads down until they lay flat and even with the other rows.

Without a word, Ricardo watched as Jacob's long fingers intertwined with the tiny filaments, sometimes as many as a dozen. Not once did he tangle them, yet spun each piece in a matter of seconds.

"I've seen that eye before," Ricardo said suddenly, surprising even himself. Though he meant not to mention it, the words slipped out unwillingly.

Jacob paused, dark chords circling each of his fingers. "Do you know what it is?"

"I have no idea. While I traveled with the man in black—" Ricardo still knew no other name for him—"I dreamed of that eye, staring at me. It did not blink, but I heard whispers around me. Soon after, I woke."

"According to myth, it shields against evil. How strange, that you saw it in a dream…." Jacob's pale fingers resumed their dance along the duotone strings.

"Why did you choose this design?"

This time Jacob did not reply, and Ricardo understood that he had used up all his questions for now. At times, Jacob elaborated for up to a number of hours, but without warning he would cease talking, refusing to speak again, unless he came into contact with the man in black. Often, they conversed in whispers to one another, and a couple of times the other man raised his voice to the point of shouting, but Jacob never did. Once the man in black lifted his hand as if to slap Jacob, but of course neither of them could harm the other. In those moments, Ricardo longed more than ever for some other human like him on the Island, so that he would not have to merely sit and observe the interaction between these two mysterious immortals. Though gifted with immortality as well, Ricardo acknowledged that he hardly belonged in the same category of immortal as Jacob and the man in black.

Through the remainder of the day, Jacob continued to weave, and at sunset he sent Ricardo from the lair. "Find something to eat," he suggested, waving a hand nonchalantly. Presumably, as immortals, neither of them had to do so, but Ricardo did prefer the old habit, and chose not to question Jacob about the abrupt dismissal.

For a few minutes, Ricardo just admired the view of the sky, such vivid colors a welcome distraction from the monochrome of Jacob's abode. As water rolled against the shore, it reminded him of his old home, and how he and Isabella walked under the sunsets of the Canary Islands. But with every gentle crash of the waves, the hole caused by her absence ached more intensely until he had to turn away.

So, he asked himself, what did he want to eat? Too tired to hunt, he entered the forest in search of coconut or some other fruit. But then he paused, eyes darting from one tree to another, as whispers filled the air around him. He swung around, torch in hand, and none other than Isabella emerged out of thin air behind him.

Gritting his teeth, Ricardo turned and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. As much as it pained him to admit it, he knew what possessed that form, what stalked him despite Jacob's warnings. Leaves crunched under his heel as he ran, panting with effort as something clicked and hissed at him. "Leave me alone!" It traveled the whole Island in search of entertainment—how had it known that Ricardo would be out that night, and where he would be?

Suddenly Ricardo gasped and stopped. Before him stood his dead wife, again, the corner of her mouth turned up as if his horror amused her. Voice breaking in desperation, he demanded, "Why do you haunt me still?"

"What do you mean, Ricardo?"

When she stepped closer, face nearly touching his, he recoiled in disgust. "Get away from me. You are not real!"

"Not real?" She laughed scornfully, and it sounded foreign from her lips. "What would convince you, then?" Little by little her clothing faded away into smoky tendrils, and those floated into the darkness around them. As Ricardo stared in shock, Isabella thrust her arms around his back, pulling herself to him. His heart pounded and he attempted to jerk away or force her off, but both times she clung to him with superhuman strength.

Ricardo shut his eyes against at least the sight of Isabella—no, it wasn't even Isabella, but one who masqueraded in her corpse—taunting him. I am immortal, but this thing must see that as a way to torment me more. "You're a monster," he growled, pulling against the fierce grip, and Isabella silenced him by pressing her mouth against his. Her lips on his sent tingles throughout his body, tiny shocks of pleasure in every part of him, and then he felt the same cold fire burning that he'd felt when he attempted to murder Jacob. The sensation didn't occur anywhere in his skin; it seemed to spread in his mind, like the sensation of swooning or becoming lightheaded.

Breaking away to glare at Ricardo, she said, "Is this real enough for you?" The icy tone contrasted with her warm lips as they trailed down to his collarbone, teeth periodically grazing cords of muscle.

Unable to fight instinct, Ricardo inwardly cursed his body's response as his breathing quickened, and he shivered when her hand stroked the hair at the nape of his neck. Then, instead of trying to touch his face anymore, her hands tugged at his shirt, hard enough that the collar dug the skin at the back of his neck and it might have hurt if so many other sensations weren't pouring through him. While his blood heated with desire, his stomach knotted at the sickening reality of the situation, and fury built up uncontrollably, hazing his vision.

Empowered by rage, he thrust all his strength against Isabella, pinning her back against a tree. Were it possible, Ricardo would gladly have torn the man in black to pieces, dismembered him limb by limb for committing the blasphemy of using Isabella for such twisted purposes. Since he couldn't do either of those, he locked his fingers around her slim neck and squeezed with all the force he could muster from the rage, lifting her off her feet and slamming her into the side of the tree.

"How dare you do this to me! How dare you do this to her!" he screamed, punctuating the demand by repeatedly smashing her head back into the wood.

However, the strength of his wrath could not quite match the otherworldly power of the smoke monster. Fingers wrapped around his, Isabella pried him loose from her throat. She shoved him away, slipping into the form of the man in black, and sank to the ground while gulping hoarsely for air. As Ricardo staggered backward and weakness overwhelmed him, his body cried out for him to rest as he sprinted out of the jungle and towards the beach.

As the aftermath of the adrenaline rush caught up with him, he gasped for breath, and thoughts of what had just taken place whirled through his mind at a dizzying pace. Never in his life had he so desperately longed to kill someone, when yelled at by the cruel slave masters or even whipped. No, in those cases he had already lost everything, and they could not break an already broken man. But now, as he had finally begun to heal from the devastating loss of his wife, the smoke monster reawakened every emotion that Ricardo had so painstakingly buried. Only one other time in his life had he attacked someone physically out of unbridled rage, and in that instance, his disregard for reason had caused a grievous mistake. But the way he felt now, the weak and helpless fury, made him remember that wretched night, when a doctor had denied him the medicine with which he could save the life of his wife. The monster should fear what I will do to him. Yes, the monster should fear the revenge to come indeed. No one hurt him like that without suffering for it.

Arriving at the water's edge, Ricardo stopped and bent over, hands on his knees. The telltale clicks of the smoke monster had long faded, and Ricardo needed a few minutes to compose himself before approaching Jacob. He didn't appreciate such displays of emotion like the way Ricardo's eyes shone with unshed tears, or the torrent of oaths begging that he speak them, and Ricardo could not afford to provoke Jacob's retribution as well.

So he swallowed a sigh of disappointment when the familiar voice called out, "What happened out there? You look like you've seen a ghost."

The straw-haired man sauntered over to Ricardo, who turned his pale face towards Jacob. "Hey. I asked you what happened." His tone lost a bit of the usual indifference.

Fighting for some semblance of calm, Ricardo struggled to steady his own voice. "I…I did see a ghost. It followed me into the jungle, it—please, let us continue this in the statue." His heart raced with urgency as he realized that even with Jacob by his side, he would hardly be immune if it chose to return. Now, it dawned on Ricardo that he had probably only escaped from the smoke monster because it had allowed that to take place. He envisioned the monster looming over him in an invisible form, silently laughing at him.

Jacob shook his head. "We can talk about it right here." When he reached towards Ricardo's shoulder to offer support, the Spaniard flinched away.

"Please—the smoke monster wishes to kill me, but it cannot, so it tortures me…." Ricardo's chest heaved as the tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He did not know how to describe the entire story to Jacob, and would not have wanted to even if he could.

For a moment, Jacob froze, and then narrowed his eyes. "Go back to the statue. I'll take care of this." Without another word, he strode towards the jungle, as if he already knew just where to find the smoke monster.

Knowing better than to linger, Ricardo headed for the shelter, and once inside he had no choice but to await Jacob's return. Glancing around the room, he noticed that Jacob had progressed further on the tapestry. It calmed Ricardo to study the intricate pattern, distracted him from his fear, and his ragged breathing soon steadied. Lost in his thoughts, he must have stood there for hours staring at the work of art, and gave a start when the sound of footsteps suddenly grew at the entrance of the cave. "Jacob?"

His heartbeat quickened when the intruder did not reply, but Ricardo sighed in relief as Jacob entered. Jacob obviously didn't share Ricardo's reassurance, though; without a word, he approached the mass of threads at the loom and slid his fingers in as if he'd never left. But he did not spin the filaments evenly as before, instead jabbing fingers erratically through loops and ties. Ricardo watched Jacob's fingers thrust in and out frantically, and eventually they slipped, resulting in a knot that he yanked at in exasperation. "Damn."

Never before had Ricardo witnessed the immortal so frustrated over such a small incident. Jacob stalked over to the chair in the corner of the room and sat down, rocking back and forth, clearly irritated but unwilling to explain why.

Finally he said, "Don't worry about the smoke monster. As long as I'm alive, he won't trouble you again."

"He will not come to me again?"

"Even if he did, it wouldn't matter. You won't be seeing a repeat of tonight." Jacob clasped his hands on his lap and leaned his head against the back of the chair.

Ricardo stared at Jacob for a long time, waiting for him to give an explanation. When none came, Ricardo turned and retreated to his quarters in the back of the shelter.

Devoid of almost anything that one would find in a normal bedroom, it held nothing but a lantern, a cot on which he slept, and another one of those odd tapestries hanging over the stone wall. Lying on the cot, he attempted to sleep, but could not shake the image of the smoke monster in Isabella's form when he shut his eyes. Eventually, though, he did slip away into uneasy, vague nightmares. As the hours stretched on, he shifted from one position to the next, turning his head from one side to the other, until a sudden noise that could have come either from either his mind or outside the room jolted him back into the waking world.

Jerking up, he blinked rapidly until his eyes focused. The room was blessedly empty, free of any unwanted visitors. Though Jacob had promised that Ricardo would no longer be plagued by the smoke monster, and Ricardo did not suspect Jacob of lying, nothing could not banish all fear of the smoke monster just yet. Curious as to whether Jacob had made the sound, and perhaps wanted him for something, Ricardo left his room, treading lightly so as not to bother the other man.

As Ricardo reached the main room, he found Jacob still in the chair, the fire no longer crackling in the chilly room. Now, Jacob's head rested on the tips of his fingers as he rocked back and forth, unaware of Ricardo's presence. Every now and then the old wood of the chair creaked, no doubt the reason for the sound that had awoken Ricardo, who gasped slightly as he noticed a drop of blood running down the back of Jacob's hand.

Jacob's head snapped up, and Ricardo saw that Jacob's forehead gleamed with sweat that matted his face and hair, tinted red in the spot where he must have perspired blood. "What are you doing here?" The rasp of his voice was like metal scraping against metal.

"I heard a noise, and came to investigate. I am sorry; I did not wish to disturb you."

"Don't look so scared." Already, Jacob had regained composure in his words, but his haggard face betrayed the casual tone.

"Jacob, what did you do to make the smoke monster agree not to harm me?"

When Ricardo searched Jacob's eyes, it occurred to him that they were not quite as apathetic as they appeared to Ricardo at first. Instead, as they stared straight ahead listlessly under drooping lids, Ricardo also noticed dark circles underneath that revealed fatigue, an exhaustion that rivaled the anger of the man in black. "I spoke to him."

"And that was all?"

"No."

It surprised Ricardo that Jacob answered his questions, and Ricardo doubted that this would continue for much longer. "What else, then?"

"We made a deal."

"Is it this deal that troubles you?"

"That 'troubles' me?" Jacob snorted and sat forward in his chair. "I imagine things haven't been too easy for you, but nothing in your past life could even begin to compare to what has to be done. But I'll live—I always do."

Ricardo's eyes narrowed in fury. "Did you watch helplessly as the woman you loved wasted away to disease? Were you condemned to burn in hell for a sin you never meant to commit? ¡No sabes nada!" He began a string of curses before halting, realizing what he had just said to the smoke monster's counterpart. Eyes widening in dismay, he stepped away from the chair, hands raised in a gesture of apology. "I-I did not mean…." He trailed off, not knowing just how he could even begin to plea for mercy.

Waving his hand dismissively, Jacob said, "Go back to sleep, Ricardus. Don't look for me tomorrow—I leave at sunrise and won't return until nightfall."

Amazed that he walked away unscathed, Ricardo returned to his room and considered how much longer he would remain in Jacob's cave before others would arrive at the Island, and if he would indeed be safe from the smoke monster. Although it provided sufficient shelter, he could not deny the growing sense of monotony and secrecy that haunted the cave, or how desperately he wished to leave.

At first, he wondered what Jacob could possibly have to do in this agreement with the smoke monster, but realized a moment later how truly thankful he was that he would probably never know.