WARNING: Contains spoilers from The Sweet Far Thing. I have the teaser book, remember? Enjoy!
Why is it that people show up when you least expect them to? I had nearly given up on Kartik, thinking that his freedom from the Rakshana has given him the opportunity to pursue other fancies, mainly anything that doesn't involve the problems of a bothersome girl. Everyday I wished for him less, and started to wish for Simon again. Why had I decided against him? I wondered what would happen if I saw him again. We would make a fine couple after all. The spell that was Kartik had been broken. I was free to look forward to the future, instead of longing for my past.
So why is it that seeing him again has left me breathless? I know in my mind that I'm being ridiculous. Kartik is not the sort of man you spend the rest of your life with. What sort of a future would I have with him? Always on the run, never settling down… However, my heart tells a different tale, sings a different song. You love him, it warbles. Love conquers all.
He came back to me one cloudy afternoon. We were all sketching the East Wing reconstruction from our safe spot too far away from all of the men and their gloriously built bodies. Martha brought forth her opera glasses to the delight of us all. One by one, we passed them around to spy on the men, down to every last defined bicep.
"Simon did look so handsome at the opera," I sighed happily; the memory conjured by the glasses. Ann smiled without looking up from her meticulous sketch. I had already confided in her how I couldn't wait to see him again. Felicity gave me a half smile, full of mystery. She tucked something further under her sketching parchment.
"Do you really think you'll see him much over Easter, Gemma?" she asked me, her voice oddly hollow.
"Perhaps," I replied giddily, taking my turn with the opera glasses. I pressed them to the bridge of my nose, running my fingers over the mother-of-pearl sides. The men had since realized we were spying on them and had taken to giving us little winks and waves that sent our hearts rushing and our faces blushing.
I spanned over the expanse of the skeletal East Wing, admiring the fine way the men worked in such a way that they became taut, rippling masterpieces. My heart gave an involuntary pang as the sudden thought of Kartik's fine physique worked its way into my consciousness. Though I didn't want to admit it, I missed him still. Missed the silly banter he worked into our serious conversations, the mystery his beautiful eyes held, the comforting scent of him that always seemed to stir a deeper, primitive part of me…
I only barely heard the girls chastising me as I dropped the opera glasses as if I had been burned. There, among the other men, no, it couldn't have been. I ignored Ann's whining that it was her turn and pressed the glasses to my eyes again. My heart was thumping wildly. Simon, Simon, Simon, was my mantra. You wrote to him today, Gemma. You said you missed his company too. But as my eyes took in the unruly black curls and broad shoulders of Kartik, all I could think was Simon who?
Was it really a surprise that he came back? That my forced infatuation with Simon faded the moment I spied the familiar figure of an old and loyal friend? That I snuck out at midnight in the hopes of meeting him? Part of me feels cheated, all of those months I spent worrying about him and here he is, whole and smiling, as if we had last met a few days ago. But part of me also wishes to throw myself into his arms, a ridiculous temptation. We had nothing between us. Nothing. So why am I risking my reputation to sneak out and meet him?
All around us tarps flutter gently in the wind like ghosts dancing to their own spectral tune. They hang from the skeletal beams of the unfinished building, shrouding us from any wayward insomniacs gazing out the windows. I shiver from more than just the chill of a March evening; the setting is so positively eerie that I cannot shake the feeling I am trapped in a dream.
He leans against a wall's foundation, waiting for me. How he knew I'd come is really no mystery, for he's always there, always in the shadows, always waiting. He gives me a slight smile. Simon, Simon, Simon, I remind myself, refusing to let Kartik's magic overcome my senses.
"Hello," he whispers. I fold my arms over my chest to let him no I am not so easily pacified.
"If you think you can just come back after nearly four months of no contact and act as if everything's alright, then you're sorely mistaken, Kartik," I say firmly. His smile wavers.
"I was not able to come back earlier, Gemma. I would have, but it wasn't safe," he explains. The breeze tousles his hair gently. "I'm sorry," he adds.
I avert my eyes to the silhouette of the dark forest. It hurts to look at him. His explanation is perfectly acceptable, but I cannot shake the feeling that I was abandoned. "I shouldn't have come," I whisper softly, half hoping the breeze carries away my words before they reach his ears. I am not so lucky.
"But you did come. You must have had a reason," he presses, doing little to mask the hurt on his face. This surprises me. For once, Kartik is not the stoic man he once made himself out to be; he is human, and it tugs at my heart.
"I wanted to see you," I admit. "I have missed you." No! You miss Simon. You told him today in a letter. Stupid Gemma! Simon, Simon, Simon!
"And I have missed you. That is why I came back."
"But it was so dangerous for you…" My anger at his absence is fading fast. Simon! My brain insists weakly. Pick Simon!
There are so many difficult choices in life. Of course, one always wants to pick the right one, for fear of messing up in life. Is there ever a right or wrong choice in life? Can you be certain that picking the correct one won't lead to bigger choices in the future? Our choices are what define us. Surely choosing Kartik would be like taking the road less traveled, for how many would willingly choose poverty over prosperity? But how can I be sure that Simon's path doesn't open into a wasteland instead of a garden? It may be a carefully tended path, with pretty flowers and singing bluebirds, but perhaps that is where the deception lies. But he's rich, he's handsome, he's proper! Precisely. The easiest choice is not always the right one to pick.
"Nothing is too dangerous to keep me from seeing a friend," he says, smiling. "Better late than never."
"Of course," I say softly. My eyes linger on his face, so familiar and beautiful to me. Haven't I always taken the road less traveled? Always tripping over rocks and fallen branches, paying no mind to the various scratches and leaves in my hair that I acquire as I chase after my dreams. Kartik can be that deer I've chased so often in my dreams with intentions of stroking its tawny back and being favored by its doe eyes. Those same eyes that gaze upon me with such sadness and hope this very moment.
Simon. Beautiful Simon. I am ashamed to even admit that I have longed for him these past few months. What has Simon ever done for me, other than kiss my hand and make me realize just how different I am? Could I ever be happy in a world filled with simple, lovely people when I must pretend to be something I am not?
"I take it you are well?" Kartik asks, his voice so unbelievably nonchalant. What I would give to hear things from his point of view, to know what really has kept him away. With him there is never really telling what lies beneath those long lashed eyes. He could have been waiting impatiently in London for the Rakshana to stop looking for him so diligently. Or perhaps he was in the thick of things, valiantly fighting all that spoke ill of my abilities to lead the Order.
"Quite well, thank you. Are you?" A smile slowly spreads across my lips, slightly chapped from the cold. My own ridiculous imagination has done the trick to lift my mood. Kartik senses this with a slight smile of his own.
"Never better," he says with certainty. He hops onto a low hanging beam and walks it as if it was a tightrope. "Gemma, have you ever noticed how peculiar the things we take for granted are?"
I shake my head. "I don't know what you mean."
He carefully raises one foot, balancing precariously on the narrow beam. "Take gravity, for instance. If Sir Isaac Newton never theorized the concept, we might have never known what keeps us from floating away. But surely enough, we have gravity and thus we are grounded." He places his foot down. "For the most part. Care to join me?" He extends his hand to me.
"No thank you. I'd probably fall."
He nods slightly. "You're right; you would." My cheeks burn. He sits on the beam and lets his legs dangle. "Take the moon for example," he says, gazing up into the night sky. "Gravity keeps her from falling, yet keeps her from flying away into outer space. Isn't that odd?"
"I suppose so," I say, placing my elbows on the beam and resting my chin in my hands. "I've never really thought about it."
"Mmm." Kartik falls into a deep silence. Rather than interrupt him, I fall into a reverie of my own.
His words make sense, though the motives behind them don't. Suddenly, it comes to me.
"What are you doing?" he asks as I struggle to pull my self up onto the beam. "I thought you were afraid you'd fall?"
"Wouldn't you say that gravity is a most unyielding jailor?" I ask, wobbling slightly.
Kartik smiles at this. "Perhaps. Please elaborate."
I sigh and drop my hands to my sides. "The moon is trapped in an unfair state of liminality, held between her dreams and falling to her death." I nearly lose my balance again.
Kartik holds out a hand to steady me. I sit down next to him so that our shoulders are nearly touching.
"When you put it that what, it does seem terribly unfair," he says. "Always held just out of reach of those you want the most. Rather makes you want to break the law, doesn't it?"
"We aren't talking about physics anymore, are we Kartik?" I ask.
"Don't be ridiculous, Gemma; everything is about physics." He throws me a superior smile. "Do you know what is most ironic about your theory of gravity?"
"No," I say.
"Gravity is really just the attraction between two objects. The moon remains trapped because two separate forces both want her equally."
Simon and Kartik. "Where do you think the moon wants to go?" I ask, twirling a lock of hair around my finger.
Kartik frowns, yet it doesn't take away from his beauty. Long strands of black hair wisp across his face, creating tiny shadows that move and dance as if they are alive. "Well, we surely wouldn't want her to fall on us, but it would be equally catastrophic if she flew away."
"Isn't that a shame that her choice would be devastating no matter what she chose? It makes everything seem rather hopeless, doesn't it?"
"On the contrary, I think it's rather hope-inspiring."
I steal a glance out of the corner of my eye. The bluish moonlight sets off his features in a breathtaking way. "How so?" I ask.
He takes a deep breath. I quite like to see him so relaxed. "No matter what her plans may be, she still shines on us night after night. Every night, I know she'll be there. And that's what I take for granted, I suppose."
"Do you know what they call me in the realms?"
"What?"
"Lady Hope," I say, studying his profile. His lips curl into a small smile.
"How appropriate."
"Do you take me for granted?" I ask quietly. His smile widens.
"Not anymore." He sighs and shifts himself on the beam. "Once I realized you wouldn't always be there."
"I can be," I say. "I have been."
He gazes at me briefly. "That wouldn't be very fair, would it?"
"Lady Hope must shine for all to see," I say in a mock haughty voice. He laughs softly and my voice returns to normal. "Perhaps some aren't meant to choose."
Kartik gives me an odd look. "Who are you, and what have you done with Gemma Doyle?"
I laugh. "You're right; that was a silly thought."
"Perhaps gravity isn't all that bad," he says, closing his eyes against the moonlight. "Gravity keeps the moon from falling. Maybe she doesn't want to fly away. What if she just wants to stay where she is? Gravity's there to hold her."
"Well when you put it that way, gravity seems like a nice fellow. I should quite like to meet him," I say, feeling a bit giddy for no reason. I've butterflies in my stomach.
"Perhaps you already have," Kartik says, suddenly very still. He stands carefully and extends his hand once more to me. I take it and he hoists me up and into his sturdy arms. "I won't let you fall," he whispers into my ear, sending pleasant chills down my spine.
"I know."
Okay TSFT spoilers were the construction guys and the rebuilding of the East Wing. And of course the opera glasses! Don't worry, the teaser book makes no mention of Simon, in fact, Gemma moons over Kartik quite a bit! Well, she's mopey because he hasn't shown up in 3 months.
Hope I did a bit to get you (a bit more) excited for The Sweet Far Thing!
Kartik can hold up my moon anytime,
LunaEquus
(PS Please review, my beautiful little chickadees!)