~❦︎~❦︎~

Chapter XXXVIII - In the Forest, There Are No Diamonds

~❦︎~❦︎~

After Heart of the Flame's banishment, time passed swiftly for Claudius, but slowly for Athena. When she asked him what had occurred between the two dragons, the man simply leaned back in his chair, brought a book up to his eyes, and waved away her concern with his free hand. "It was nothing, dear." And even though he did not smoke, Athena couldn't help but picture a long and thick cigar in-between his fingers each time he dismissed her questions—like any other man in a drawing-room somewhere in London.

His reading glasses would be drawn up to the bridge of his nose, pinching it. And other finely-dressed men would ask him questions about politics and he would know every single answer, but he would never wish to engage for his novel was a far more engrossing matter.

But Sir Claudius never was one for plain and civil discussion, was he? For a matter to be engaging, it had to be a story.

~❦︎~

"Claudius?"

The man jerked, practically jumping out of his cushioned seat.

Athena stood at the edge of the fireplace in the Grand Hall. One parchment page in her slender hand.

"What is it, my love?" he said, rubbing his eyes and laying his book down on the table. "You nearly frightened me to death, I've been reading for so long."

"Yes, I know." She looked away.

He squinted his eyes and turned his head, glancing toward the direction Athena faced.

"I was hoping—" she locked eyes with him, "that you might be willing to look over a piece I've written."

A few expressions came over his face: first shock, but then a bright beaming smile broke over his features and his teeth sparkled in the firelight. "Of course! What is it? A little love poem?" He leaned over and reached his hand out for the paper.

"Sure, a little love poem," she said, letting him take it from her.

"Let's see," he said, settling down in his chair again. Claudius propped one leg over the other and his eyes darted across the page. He grimaced almost immediately. "It's not formatted, Athena. It looks more like prose."

"Well, then maybe it's prose."

Claudius gripped the paper; he commenced reading.

I think sometimes that green is the loneliest color. The forest beyond my backyard is so alive with acres and acres of green earth and green trees.

He stopped. "I'm not quite sure this description matches what you are implying, Athena." Claudius scratched his cheek. "You say that this forest is alive, but this description—although lovely—suggests that it is vast and empty."

"Keep reading."

He shook his head, nodding in neither agreement nor disagreement. "Author's choice, I suppose."

And yet, each time I go into this deep wood, loneliness is the only color I know.

"Intriguing."

As I tread farther, I notice that the green of the leaves is like the green of a toad's face. Then I hear them: sinister, spiteful, and sibilant voices ambushing me from each direction, and yet when I turn, I find them only to be the voices of my heart.

Green is both lovely and lonely. I follow a little rivulet farther into the forest; it's so clear that I can see the smooth beige rocks beaming up at me, with lovely mossy lace hanging off of them. If only my heart weren't green but beige! If only it were beige with white polka-dots, like the happy fawns that frolic—or beige with a silvery lining like the gay songbirds that sing of love.

Instead, my heart is full of ferocity and frogginess!

"Frogginess is not a word!" he thundered.

"Oh, hush," she cut him off.

Green is so selfish, so intense, so vibrantly distasteful. I bet you wouldn't dare touch a slimy, bumpy frog (or, for that matter, a toad's warty face)!

Do you see now why green is the loneliest color—lonely as a single leaf falling through midair with no one to catch it because it's summer and not fall?

He never wanted wicked green, or happy beige, or autumn leaves, or silver lining, or white polka-dots… he wanted a true, dazzling diamond, to care for, cherish, love, and live alongside him.

But in the forest, there are no diamonds.

Claudius remained silent for several moments. He sucked in a few puffs of air, preparing to speak, before sinking again, saying nothing. "I think it is well and good, Athena. I'm just not quite so sure about the ending, my dear."

"And why's that?" she said, staring into the fireplace and gripping her skirts.

"Well, it just seems as though this whole 'diamond' business comes out of nowhere. It wasn't implied beforehand or alluded to. I'm not even sure it fits within the context of the earth and land imagery. And who is 'he'? Why didn't you mention him beforehand? I suppose the ending feels undeveloped, my sweet. I'll help you revise it."

No response.

Claudius picked his head up. "Athena?"

She stood still, her skirts still balled up into fists. And her eyes were just empty holes.

"Athena, what's wrong?"

The girl shifted her feet away from the fireplace, taking steps backward.

"Athena," he said, pacing toward her, the paper still in his hand. "Are you alright? What's the matter? Was I too harsh? I apologize, dear. Please know I did not intend for—"

"I don't want to revise it." She pushed him away and brushed her gown off. "I like it the way it is, Sir," she sneered.

Claudius's face dropped. "What do you mean? I thought you wanted my…"

Athena lifted her face from the ground. Her red eyes were filled with flames and tears to douse them.

"Athena, darling, what's the matter?" He folded his free hand into hers and kissed away a few of her tears.

"I thought maybe you would understand…" she sobbed, untwining their fingers and brushing away his lips. "If I wrote it down I thought you'd listen to me!"

His eyes drew nearer together in confusion.

"I thought perhaps if I wrote it in the language you read in all those books, you'd understand, but you're just as thoughtless as ever!" the girl cried. "You won't listen to the words coming out of my mouth or the words written by my hand. Keep the parchment, genius." She pushed away his hands and stomped toward the entryway.

Claudius, in shock, stood at the fireplace. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, yet once she disappeared into the faint morning light outside of his castle, there was nothing left for him. His hands wrapped around the parchment. He crumpled it up and tossed it onto the stone floor, before picking it up again and unraveling it. "Come on, Claudius! You're good at reading things! What does this mean?" he yelled at himself.

"Diamonds? Forest? Green toads? What?!" he exasperated. "It just doesn't make sense! I thought it was supposed to be a love poem. A love poem for… me…."

He never wanted wicked green, or happy beige, or autumn leaves, or silver lining, or white polka-dots…

"I never liked the forest…" he said. "I never liked the forest! That's who she's talking about!" He slapped himself across the face. "Of course, why didn't I think of this earlier. I'm such a fool."

Claudius wrapped the parchment paper up in his waistcoat and bolted outside. Athena was already halfway down the pebbled driveway. He stopped her. "Athena! Athena!" he called. Sprinting up to the girl, whose face was stone, he panted. "Athena, I understand."

"Oh?"

"Forgive me for not figuring it out earlier." He spread his arms wide. "I am the 'He' of your work."

She snorted. "Congratulations."

Claudius's face fell again and his arms drooped to the side. "But, Athena, you know I don't like the forest. Why write about it?"

The girl sighed. "It's not just about the forest, Claudius," she said. "It's about—" She picked up a pebble and chucked it across the grounds. "Claudius, the forest is a part of who I am. I was born there. It's where I find my strength. Saying you don't like the forest is saying you don't like me."

He brought a hand up to her cheek. "Well, of course, I like you. Just because—"

"No, you don't like me!" she snapped. "You like pretty things. Shiny things. If you did like me, you'd tell me everything you know about that wretched woman!"

A flock of birds lifted off in the nearby trees, soaring toward the coastline. Waves ate away at the cliffs.

"I'm sorry, Claudius." She tucked a curly strand of her hair behind her ear. "It's just that it seemed as though you weren't listening to me. Like you weren't telling me the truth about what happened between you two because perhaps, deep down, you wanted to be with… her," the girl grimaced.

"Why would you ever think that, Athena?" He shook his head side-to-side. "Heart of the Flame tried to take away the one person that means something to me. You think I want her in my life?"

Athena shook her head no, sniffling.

"Exactly. I wanted to forget about her, which is why I kept dismissing you." He left out a puff of air, which dissipated into mist. "I shouldn't have. I should've faced your questions like a man. I apologize."

"It's okay, Claudius," she said, cupping his cheekbones. "I forgive you."

He smiled, leaning into her soft palm. "So, she was the diamond?"

Athena nodded.

"You know, Athena, now that I understand… the context of your little piece of prose, it's not so horrendous, if I do say so myself."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Oh, yes, you would do so much better writing about the contents of a woman's heart." She eyed the undergarment covering his chest and fumbled with the buttons, toying.

"Nothing of the sort. I'm merely saying I'm a more experienced writer than you are, dear." Claudius chuckled and then cleared his throat. "Now that this 'Heart of the Flame' business has all been settled, shall we finish what we started before she interrupted us?"

Athena squinted, the light shining directly in her eyes and turning Claudius into a shadow. "What do you mean?"

Birds twittered around them and the ocean breeze blew them closer to one another. Harsh light shone down on top of the pair.

"Weren't we… in the middle of something before I noticed her scent, all those days ago?"

Patches of strawberries ripened all around Athena's cheeks and little freckles popped up on her chest and neck from the sun's rays. "I'm not so sure I remember, Claudius. Won't you… remind me?" she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. The girl giggled, tugging at the buttons on his shirt.

"Gladly." Claudius's dark and husky tone resonated in the air. She felt the vibrations in his chest as he spoke. The scents of pine and wood and old books were all over him, drawing her in. There was something so old about him, so refined, and yet so new and boyish.

Athena closed her eyes first, drawing her slender neck upwards toward the sun. Claudius almost felt tempted to bite and plant kisses all over it, but her lips were far too enticing. They were like all of the fruit tarts he had had years ago, fresh and sweet and brightly colored. Summer and spring in one bite.

Wrapping his muscular arms around her thin waist, Claudius pulled her to him and lifted her off of her feet. Their lips met.

Flames surged in Claudius's stomach, but her tart, juicy lips soothed them. All of his insides were engulfed in a wildfire, while his exterior only sizzled, like water being thrown over dying flames. Steam rose out of his nostrils as their mouths moved together.

The two eventually broke away, although could not remember how or when. Everything bled together. Athena rested her head on his chest, and he perched his chin on her curls.

"I've never kissed anyone before," she admitted.

"Neither have I."