"Fuck the gods, and fuck this river." Agron stood, naked and dripping wet, his soaked clothes piled on the ground next to him. He stared angrily at the rushing water, beginning to shiver as Nasir stepped forward gingerly, attempting to stifle a laugh. The Syrian carried a warm fur to dry his lover, wrapping it tightly around the larger man. The two days of journeying through woods to get to the Rhine where there was supposed to be a bridge leading into Germania had been relatively uneventful. Agron had spent much of his time cooing over the pregnant women and then silently being chastised by Nasir, who despite his initial excitement, had done a phenomenal job of keeping the secret. Agron, on the other hand, despite all of his blustering about silence being their security, could not help himself from just staring at the bellies of Sybil and Laeda, often times reaching out as if to touch them. When the band of survivors had reached the Rhine, Agron's thoughts plummeted from the clouds of dreams about the sons of his brothers, along with his mood. The bridge had been burnt to the ground, and there was no other real way across into Germania for at least another week or two's journey, time they could not afford as winter started to approach. Agron had decided to test the depths and current of the Rhine to see if it still offered as much resistance as it did to him in memories of childhood.
"Are all from your lands this inept at swimming?" Nasir teased his lover, but a wide devilish grin betrayed his love and warm intentions. "I only jest. You gave valiant effort and I'm sure even Neptune himself could not cross these waters. I only wonder now how we can spirit ourselves across?" Agron didn't provide a response, just frowned and shivered into the warm fur and embrace of his lover.
Agron's mind wandered away from his freezing body and back to the last time he had set foot in the Rhine. He was a young child, maybe 12 years of age. He had gone down to the river, which was not far from the village where he lived with his parents and Duro. They had always been warned that the Rhine was unpredictable, fast, and dangerous. Grown men even spoke with fear or at least healthy respect when the subject of swimming in the river came up. But, as all young boys must do, Agron had become determined to prove his manliness by swimming across the river and back. Secretly, Agron had gathered a group of children from the village to witness his bravery. Obviously, Duro, only 9 at the time, followed closely, never leaving Agron's heals. The band of children had slipped away from the village one lazy afternoon in the middle of summer. Agron knew that this, if any time, would be the best to brave the waters. The Rhine would no longer be brimming with the snow melt from the winter or from the Spring rains. The water would not be as cold as it would the rest of the year. The group reached the river and Agron was pleased to see that he was right, the river was lower and slower than it had been even a few weeks prior. All of the children stripped off their clothes and ran to the banks, dipping their legs in, playing in the shallowest areas or pools of water trapped by rocks. Agron refused to join them. He stayed on the bank, motionless, plotting and rehearsing in his head exactly what he was going to do: where he would take off, how many strokes before he took his first breath, how many strokes it should take before he reached the other bank, how long he would rest on the other bank before he returned, and how he would be praised as a man and champion by his peers upon his return.
After a few moments, Agron had steeled himself, stripped off his clothes and ran toward the river. The other children hooted and hollered, clapping and cheering the young boy on. As Agorn reached the water, his feet beginning to splash, he leapt into the air, diving into the cold water. Immediately, his body screamed and tightened, angered by the cold, but Agron pressed forward. Kick, kick, kick, kick, strokeā¦strokeā¦stroke, breathe. That first breath of air that entered Agron's lungs felt like a gift from the gods. Everything was going perfectly, and his body had begun to adjust to the cold water, his muscles beginning to relax as he kicked and stroked. Within minutes he had reached the embankment on the other side, nearly out of sight from the other children. He swam ashore, panting, soaking wet, partly from the river water, and partly from the sweat that poured from his skin. Agron stood triumphantly, throwing his fists in the air, roaring from the deepest part of his belly. He could see the other kids jumping and clapping, hear their cheers. He took a moment to just revel in his glory before he laid down on the sand, allowing his breath the return to him.
He had barely begun to dry than did the cheers of the children begin echoing over the river again. That could not be right? Agron was doing nothing other than lying down. He stood, expecting the group to continue to applaud, motioning for him to return, but instead what he saw struck panic into his heart. A tiny silhouette leaped into the air from the shores of the Rhine and began splashing in the river. He didn't have to think to know that this was Duro. His fucking baby brother was always tailing him, crying if Agron was out of sight. The younger boy was also headstrong enough to imagine himself able to cross the Rhine. Agron fought the urge to jump immediately into the water, knowing that if any nine-year-old could swim across the river, it would be his brother. He watched, silently praying to the gods he was no longer sure if he believed in, as his brother's splashes neared the middle of the river. Duro was doing alright, it was looking like he was going to make it across. The small boy had crossed the midpoint of the river and was on his way toward the embankment where Agron stood poised to pull the idiot child out of the water, when suddenly the splashes stopped. Agron did not hesitate, he knew that if Duro had stopped swimming the river would claim his life. Exhausted, but hyped up on nerves, Agron dove into the water, swimming for the spot just downstream of where he had last seen the splashes of Duro's nearly successful attempt to cross the Rhine. He didn't notice the shocking cold of the river, nor the ache in his muscles. It seemed like a lifetime and only the blink of an eye, all at once, before he reached the spot, frantically treading water, searching for his brother's body. Agron's head twisted in each direction, his legs beginning to tire, feeling as though they were made of lead, when finally, he caught sight of Duro floating, face down, maybe a stone's throw down stream. Agron swore and willed energy into his lifeless legs, tears beginning to stream down his face as terror began to grip his heart. No. Fuck the gods, Agron was better than this. He cursed himself, pushing his terror down and swimming faster, gaining control of his muscles. Within moments, Duro's motionless body was within Agron's grasp. Agron pulled him in tightly, swimming with only one hand and his tired legs to the nearest bank.
When they reached the sands, Agron pulled Duro out of the water, flipping him onto his back. The boy was not breathing, a faint blue hue coming over his face, his eyes closed and peaceful. He looked like the corpses Agron had seen being hoisted onto the pyres during the village ceremonies. Now, the terror returned, gripping Agron's heart like an icy fist, sending stabbing pains through his chest. The tears sprang from his eyes as he cried out. "Duro! Duro! Fuck, please Duro, do not be dead. Duro!" Partially out of anger and fear, Agron began to beat Duro's chest with his fists, as if trying to hammer the life into him. The boy's cold body seemed to breathe out as Agron's fists made contact. Somehow, through the haze of fear, the notion to breathe new air into his brother sprang to mind. Agron bent forward, covering Duro's mouth and nose with his own mouth, exhaling air into the body. Suddenly, as if Agron's breath had startled Duro from a deep slumber, the boy sat up, coughing river water out of his mouth, spittle and snot dribbling down his face. Duro gasped for air, the normal pink tones of his skin returning to his face. There were too many emotions inside Agron for him to do even move or say anything. Surprise, relief, anger, fear, guilt, elation, all of them swirling inside Agron as he sat dumbfounded watching his kid brother return from the shores of the underworld.
"I made it?"
"What?"
"I made it across the river! I am a man, just like you!"
"You fucking idiot! You nearly drowned. You were dead!" Agron's temper was rising, the joy of having his brother safe and the fear of being forced to watch him die were both being overshadowed by the white-hot anger only Duro could elicit. "Do not fucking grin! You are a fucking child that would have drowned in the fucking Rhine if I had not saved you. No, you did not fucking make it across river." Agron's shouted words were only partially understandable, given that he now shook with cold and anger, as tears continued to stream down his face.
"Apologies, but am I not on other fucking side?" Duro smiled, only half-aware of his snarkiness. The boy genuinely just wanted Agron to be proud of him for crossing the river, one way or another. Instead, he received a hard punch to the face followed by Agron leaping on top of him, knocking them both to the ground. Despite his anger, Agron did not continue to punch his brother, merely to restrain him. Soon their anger and fear subsided and the two boys were wrestling and laughing as the sun began to set, their friends undoubtedly having departed long ago.
"It is fucking time to head back, is it not?"
"Mom and dad are going to kill you, Aggy."
"Me?! Why? You're the one who tried to drink the Rhine dry."
"You let me. And, you lost our clothes. And, it is your fault that we return after dark." Agron gently shoved Duro as they began their walk, still naked, but thankfully dry, along the road toward the bridge that would take them over the Rhine back toward their village. Duro had been right. Agron received a lashing for being mindless enough to lose their clothes and for causing them to be late home. Fortunately, no one had told their parents about the incident in the river.
Agron's mind returned to the present, as a smile spread across his face. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to think of his childhood with Duro. As they neared their homelands, it was as if Duro was returning to him, in some sense.
"What brings smile to face?"
"A memory of days long past in this river. Of brother attempting to follow where he should not. And, of a plan. If we cannot swim across, and we cannot walk across, we shall create fucking rafts. There are enough trees and able bodied people to make suitably sized raft before dusk. I will guide us across, making journey as many times as necessary to see all to the shores of Germania. Nasir, we are almost home. I can feel it. Something stirs within me, longing to awaken, or re-awaken."
"Then let us set hands to purpose. I would see memories and future both alive and well within the heart of my love." Agron finished drying, wrapping the fur around himself, letting his clothes dry on the shores of the Rhine. They returned to the camp at the top of the bank, gathering aid and setting plan into action. As they had predicted, there was a large raft ready for launch into the Rhine prepared by the time the last beam of light left the sky. Tomorrow morning, they would cross the Rhine, into Germania, toward home and safety. Agron could not be more please.
