A/N: Part Deux, and not the end. I apologise for the shortness of this chapter-but I've met with a dilemma: What does Sameth do?! (It comes at an excruciatingly irritating point, at the peak of his heartache) As of now I've got a shadow-y idea, but I'm open to suggestions :)
Disclaimer: Garth Nix's Characters (except for Jonathan the Bee-Keeper). Garth Nix's backstory.
Like Fictions You Would Make
Men and women in blue and white, they are singing all around you
With heavy shovels holding earth
You're being buried to your neck
In that hospital bed
Being buried quite alive now
I'm trying to dig you out but all you want is to be buried there together
-Epilogue, by The Antlers
"Lirael."
It was spoken with such tender urgency that for a moment Sam was surprised that words had burst forth from his lips before he'd even felt them part. Then he spotted the figure approaching hers from his shadowed vantage point by the bricked doorway, and the illusion shattered-along with something inside of him that came with the realisation that she'd left to meet another man.
No, not 'another' man-for there had never been the slightest hint of any romantic liaison involving her; Dog had left too large a hole in her heart for it to do so-or so he had assumed and taken as an excuse for maintaining his spineless charade of unrequited lover.
Which was why this discovery came as a double blow.
Perhaps, though, he had jumped to a premature conclusion. Perhaps she hadn't set off with the intention of partaking in this clandestine meeting; and estranged friend and jealous lover he was, he had taken in the romanticism of the clear night sky and rustling trees and assumed the worst.
From a purely Lirael standpoint, more likely she hadn't meant to seek out whoever it was standing there in the garden with her now-if he knew her character-and he'd like to think so, especially since he'd spent quite a period of time on one of the most life-changing journeys with her (and Dog, of course).
"Jonathan," her voice sounded startled, questioning, even. Accidental meeting, then-on her part, at least.
"I see you came out for some night air as well?" The man, vaguely familiar, launched smoothly into small talk, as the pair stood in the semi-shade of a sparsely-leafed tree.
"Yes." Her reply was short and polite-he couldn't help the petty satisfaction that ghosted upon his self upon sensing the awkwardness of their conversation. "How are the bees?"
Ah yes, the palace Bee-Keeper.
He swore not to consume palace-made honey anymore.
The awkwardness was overwhelmingly oppressive, and Lirael couldn't help but contemplate whether she would trade another experience with her bells, facing down the Dead, for immunity against such awkward situations.
(She would; certainly and gladly.)
"The bees have been great," was his stilted reply, delayed a beat by-no doubt-his incredulity at her lacking conversational skills.
It wasn't that she was socially inept or anything of that sort. Her social skills were perfectly passable-the problem was more specific to her conversational partner, rather; whose overly-amiable behaviour of late seemed to be suspiciously edging beyond the platonic line-something she was wholeheartedly against, hence her attempts to thwart any potential opportunity for that line to be crossed.
Her suspicions were confirmed as she felt fingers tug gently at her hair, and her name breathed upon her forehead.
She couldn't suppress the gasp at the sudden intrusion of personal space, instinctively twisting to the side. Arms reaching to cradle herself at the sudden vulnerability, she stubbornly ducked her gaze even though she could feel the weight of his upon her.
For what seemed like too long, all she could hear was the faint sounds of the cicadas, drowned out by the wild racing of her heart. Say something, the voice in her head hissed desperately. And when she did, they spoke together in a jumbled mess of soulful consonants:
" I can't, I'm sorr-"
"Lirael, I love y-"
At that moment, Sameth entered the garden.
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to awkward situations-may they cease to exist in our lives.
(And just in case by some freaky slip of nature anyone who knows me in real life comes across this, Jonathan's name does not hold any awkward significance to me personally; his name was chosen entirely at random. In fact, I have many friends named Jonathan.)