BLUE EYES: Chapter 11
A/N: This one is longer than all the previous chapters. Tried to edit the draft to fit the word limit I've set for myself, but cutting it any more than I already have will already affect the story, so I left it at 1,840 words. I didn't think you'd mind. ;-)
Have a Very Merry Christmas and a Hopeful New Year!
Summary: Felicity ponders on the man she's recently been married to, she and Oliver get ready to leave town, and a new character is introduced in the story.
Despite the awkwardness and her apprehensions the previous night, Felicity had slept like a log, undisturbed by dreams good or bad. So, when the first rays of sunshine shone through the narrow gap between the two capiz shell ornamented window panels, she had second thoughts about rising up early to help Lyla and the inn's cook with breakfast. However, the thought of all the kindness that Ms. Michaels had shown them the day before had quickly won her over.
Getting up from her bed, she noticed that Oliver was no longer asleep on the mat on the floor. He and his meager belongings were nowhere in their room.
Oliver. The man remained a mystery, and Felicity hated unsolved mysteries. As she changed into the riding habit attire that Lyla gave, ready for the half-day's trek up into the mountains after their morning meal, she made a mental list of everything that she knew about her husband so far.
At the top of her invisible list was that at the young age of ten, Oliver had lost his father in an encounter with native warriors, much like she had lost her father just a few days ago. That important piece of information had bonded them in a special way, making her feel a little more at ease with him, knowing that he can identify and sympathize with the pain she was going through.
The next fact she listed was that Oliver had been adopted and raised as the Kinanyao chief's own son – earning him a respectable status in Kinanyao society – even if he was the son of a foreigner, who had brought him and his mother to the island when he was a boy. Another thing she noted was that, for some reason still unclear to her, Oliver had been living alone in the jungle instead of with his adoptive native family in the mountain village of his tribal clan. It seemed to her that Oliver did not really have any friend in his life at the moment, except for Big John.
Felicity also added the following to her list: that Oliver was not afraid of snakes, that he was good with a bow and arrow, that he knew how to find food from the jungle and that she would not starve there for as long as she stayed with him, that he lived in a tree house, that he needs to recover as much of his past English as he possibly can and learn more of his original language with her help, and that he was a fast learner.
That he had saved her life twice – the first of which resulted in her becoming his wife.
That he had been patient with her even when she was being talkative and stubborn.
That he had been nothing but kind and thoughtful to her ever since they met.
That his voice – despite his very few words – possessed a peculiar yet endearing quality that calmed and soothed her, like it did last night when they had ended up conversing quite substantially (compared to their previous talks) about how Oliver had met John Diggle and about how John and Lyla had shown them kindness beyond expectation. Instead of allowing the awkwardness in the air to make them both uncomfortable, they had settled into a cordial conversation, which had finally lulled them both to sleep.
That he has the most beautiful pair of blue eyes she'd ever seen on a very fine male specimen. With a robust frame – a torso as solid and steadfast as a tree trunk, strong limbs that resemble the sturdy branches bearing the weight of his treehouse – and an unconventional tribal-looking, albeit handsome face that caused butterflies to flutter in her stomach whenever it is adorned even by the slightest, shy smile. She also visualized the tattoos on his body and his long, sandy blonde hair that he had let loose for the first time in her presence last night, and she decided that those external trappings did not matter as much to her as his inner person.
Felicity earnestly hoped that he would not change, for she liked the Oliver that she was coming to know. Although he tended to be quiet, introverted, and somber, she had already caught a few glimpses of his softer and lighter side, enough for her to surmise that the man who had given up his freedom to make her his wife was a good and honorable man. She had yet to see him get angry, frustrated, or upset, and she knew that she was bound to discover more. She'd be lying if she denied the fears in her heart, fears about what was in store when she got to know her husband even more and discovered the truth about his past. But for now, she learned to appreciate the man for the sacrifices he'd done for her thus far.
Felicity went downstairs and found Lyla in the kitchen. Lyla was busy packing food and water into a basket. Oliver was not there. Neither was John.
"Good morning!" Felicity greeted Lyla cheerfully.
"Good morning, Felicity. Did you sleep well?" asked Lyla.
"As a matter of fact, I did, thank you." Felicity grinned widely as she spoke.
"Oh, really?" Lyla had a gleaming, teasing expression on her face.
Felicity's smile fell when she noticed the glint in her hostess's eyes and assumed what she thought Lyla assumed.
"I… I did sleep very well. The beds in your inn are really comfortable, and the sheets smelled fresh, and I haven't had a good night's rest since, you know, the incident in the mountains and the near-death experiences I've had in the last couple of days. The nice, warm bath also helped me to relax before going to bed last night. So, uhm… I am babbling again, and it will end in 3-2-1." She sighed, burying her face into the palms of her hands.
Lyla chuckled, amused at her habit of rambling when she was nervous or embarrassed. "Felicity, you owe me no explanation. I'm just happy that you slept well."
"Thank you, Ms. Michaels," Felicity said, biting her lip after.
Lyla immediately responded, "Oh, my dear, how many times do I have to tell you to please call me Lyla. I'm your friend, not your tutor or your employer."
"Lyla, right. I keep forgetting."
It was at that point that John Diggle arrived and greeted the two women a pleasant morning. Felicity immediately noticed the hidden conversation taking place between John and Lyla just by the looks in their heart eyes and the sugar-sweet smiles they gave each other. Felicity meant to ask Oliver later whether or not there was something more than friendship between those two.
"Big John, have you seen Oliver?" Felicity asked the big, burly man.
"Oliver?" John's forehead crinkled in confusion.
"Oliver, yes." When realization hit Felicity, she rephrased her question. "Oh, I meant Asintado, my hus- Have you seen him?"
"You mean your husband?" John asked, to clarify that they were referring to the same person.
"Yes. Him." Felicity replied succinctly, blushing a bit. She really needed to get used to being married.
John smiled. "I see he's finally told someone his real name. Oliver is a nice name."
"You mean you never knew that his name is Oliver? I thought you were friends," Felicity asked, surprised.
"We are. But I've only ever known him as Asintado. He has never used his English name before," John answered. "I figured it was something he kept to himself for a reason. I'm glad he has found someone worthy to share it with."
Truth be told, Felicity couldn't help but feel special and flattered by what John just revealed. Apparently, Oliver had told no one, about his real name, not even his only friend. Nevertheless, he had told her from the first time they met. It felt wonderful that he had thought her worthy of his trust.
Felicity was also curious. Why didn't Oliver tell anyone his real name before? Had he not told the chief who he was? Why hadn't he told John, and why had he told her? She really wanted to know, but she knew she probably hadn't earned that much trust yet for him to divulge the answers to such personal questions. She would wait for the right time.
"Asintado is bringing the old horse out of the stable. He's been busy since dawn, packing all your supplies and strapping those onto the horse. He asked me to find out if you're already awake and ready to go, and if Lyla was done packing your meals," John explained. "Asintado wants for you to leave early so that you can reach your mountain home before nightfall. The journey going up there takes longer than it does coming down here."
John went with Felicity to fetch her belongings upstairs. Afterwards, he and Lyla accompanied Felicity to the front porch of the general store. Sure enough, Oliver was there to meet them.
When Oliver saw her, he gaped in admiration at her features. Felicity had worn the riding habit ensemble given by Lyla – the traditionally form-fitting, long-sleeved bodice and the riding trousers (which was usually worn by women underneath a walking skirt or riding skirt). She had decided not to put on the skirt on top of the trousers anymore; she already knew from experience that it would only slow her down on the journey. The unconventionally worn attire made his new wife look even more appealing, as far as Oliver was concerned.
"Ready?" Oliver asked her, trying in vain to conceal a smile.
Felicity nodded and smiled as she came down the steps with John and Lyla.
"Thank you for everything, Big John. You and Lyla are very kind," Oliver said, and Felicity was mighty proud of him for clearly communicating his gratitude to their friends in straight English.
Lyla gave Felicity a hug, while Oliver responded to John's extended arm with a firm handshake.
Just as they were ready to leave, an unfamiliar voice called out from behind them. "Mr. Diggle, I've been looking all over town for you."
John looked up and saw his employer, ready to provide an explanation for his temporary absence from the tobacco store. "Mr. Merlyn, I was just sending off my friends. I will be with you in the store shortly. Please forgive me if my absence made you anxious or upset."
The man whom John addressed as Mr. Merlyn wasn't even looking at his hired hand; instead, he was staring straight at Oliver and Felicity with a stern, disapproving and disconcerting look on his face.
Felicity wondered who the affluent man riding a huge black stallion was. She'd never seen him before, but the man was staring at her disturbingly as if he knew her. Oliver, on the other hand, was puzzled. He had never met Big John's master in his three years of visiting Christentown, yet somehow he felt that he had seen this man before. He just couldn't remember when and where.
So, what did you think of the developments in the story? Would love to hear from you.
Author's Notes:
1. I looked up women's clothes in the late 19th century, and found exactly what I was hoping I could use for Felicity in this chapter - the riding habit ensemble. It consists of a blouse with a form-fitting bodice with long sleeves and a high collar, a skirt with darts at the knees and is longer on the left side and front to hide the feet while riding a horse (when walking, the extra length of the skirt is draped around the right hip and fastened at the center back waist with a button and ribbon loop), a silk knit undervest worn underneath the blouse, and a pair of feminine trousers worn underneath the skirt instead of a petticoat.
2. I love the style of some window panels back in the Spanish colonial era that were decorated with capiz shells in geometric shapes, usually squares that are arranged like tiles on a wooden frame. I tried to imagine the inn on top of Lyla's general store as having this classic ornamentation.