16
Reyna
A bead of blood slowly trickled down Reyna's forearm, but she hardly noticed. Partially because she was trying her hardest to focus, but in actuality, it was becoming difficult to see anything. The half-constructed log raft in front of her was barely visible in the pale moonlight of the early night sky, and the surrounding trees didn't make it any easier.
It also took her far too long to realize she had leaned forward to rest her forehead against the rough wood, her hands stopping in their work. Even when she did, expecting to shake herself from her daze and get back to work, she instead remained there, knelt on the ground with her head resting on the log. Her exhaustion kept her from getting up, as she lacked the strength to fight it any more.
She knelt there in the dirt for a moment that seemed infinitely long. Everything around her was silent. No rustling of leaves. No distant owl hooting. No waves crashing onto the shore. Not even the ambient noise of thought. Just her breath, deep and slow.
Bellona, her mother, had never been one for direct contact. Maybe it was because Reyna and Hylla were her only daughters. Maybe she simply preferred not to interfere directly. Whatever it was, Reyna had come to terms with her mother's distant nature. She knew the goddess was still there, and still prayed to her in times when she needed guidance or strength. Despite a lack of words, she had experienced her mother's hand in her life before.
As Reyna sat there in the dark, an odd sensation began to fill her. It was faint and small, but undeniable. As it coalesced and sent a shiver up her body, she focused on it, trying to determine what it was.
It was much too intricate and intuitive to put to words entirely. The best she could come up with was something like… hopelessness, but without the negative connotation. A resignation that was more of a relief than a surrender. It was coming from something other than her, that much she knew. As if an invisible hand had been laid on her shoulder, instructing her gently to stand down. Somehow, she knew that it was her mother trying to tell her something, and for once, it wasn't a challenge.
Her eyes refocused as she looked at the wood in front of her, her mind clearer than it had been for days. She saw now what was laid before her: it wasn't her lifeline; it was her distraction. Even from the beginning, she knew that this wouldn't work. From the lingering magic of the island, to the imperfections in the construction, to the lack of navigational capabilities – she had ignored every issue with the plan, just because she couldn't bear the thought of having no solution to the problem. Every minute spent cutting wood, every drop of blood split – all of it was just to occupy the time that would have otherwise been spent in emotional distress over her friends and her inability to be there for them. All along, she had just been trying to get away from the pain of their helplessness.
And she had lashed out at Mason for doing the same.
Reyna sat there for a while longer, now dejectedly considering what to do. Finally, with a deep breath, she rose from the dirt and began to make her way back to the cave.
The moonlight shone brighter in the meadow, it seemed, and she walked through the garden in silence, the only sound being the gentle trickling of the nearby fountain. She spotted a small grouping of white flowers that seemed to glow faintly in the darkness with a white aura, stopping to gaze at them for a moment before continuing on.
She stopped as she reached the cave entrance, flanked by the two large pillars on either side. Mason was likely asleep. She wasn't sure what she would say if he wasn't, so she hoped that the awkward and pitiful apology could wait until the morning. She could curl up in a corner with a blanket and regain some composure before then.
Moving aside the white cloth curtain, she stepped inside the dark room, surprised to see that there was a single light in the back. She walked over to the bed to see that there was a small candle lit by the bedside table. More surprising than that, though, was that the bed was empty.
Momentary panic rising up in her, she glanced around before her eyes landed on a chair just a few feet away. It was a wooden rocking chair, with large armrests. And in it, head lulled to the side in a position that couldn't be comfortable, was Mason, asleep.
Reyna felt a dry sob come up as she looked at him.
"You idiot," she whispered coarsely.
She walked over to where he was, and without hesitation, slowly lifted him up from his seat, being careful not to wake him. She carried him in her arms the few feet to the bed, laying him down gently. As she did, she felt herself sink down to the floor, her head resting against the bed the same way it had rested against the raft outside.
(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)
Perhaps against my better judgement, I have decided to help the boy in his task of escaping the island. Though, now that I say that, I suppose that is what I wanted in the first place: for him to leave. However, I think that my motivation has changed.
He is still abrasive, and filthy, and loud. However, even I cannot deny that he is useful. At but a mere mention of any of the many malfunctions I've had in my garden or cave, he has jumped on the opportunity to fix them, which he does so far faster than I could ever hope to. I suppose I should have expected this, since he spends all day hammering away in his little tinkerer's pit. He has somehow managed to establish an entire camp of equipment to build what he wishes to, all with nothing but metal scraps, mud, and wood. I would say I am a little bit impressed, but I would never say that to his face, lest he violate my eyes with that stupid grin of his.
More than that, though, is why he is doing all of this. He showed me through a device he constructed images of his allies, many of them preparing for conflict. The struggle they face is one of great and terrible proportions. He says that he needs to get back to his friends. He is doing all of this for their sake, not because he wants to escape to his own freedom or impress me by being heroic.
Even Gaea seems to understand this, as she arrived herself to offer me freedom in return for the boy's life. I may hate this boy, but I hate Gaea even more, and if helping him escape gets him and his friends one step closer to locking her away, I will take him over her any day.
The boy cares. He is loyal. Even if his methods are unconventional, and even if his personality is grating, he will do anything for his friends.
Given that, I think I can withstand him long enough to do what is needed. He deserves it.
(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)
The first thing Reyna felt was pain. Not a sharp pain, but an entire-body-encompassing soreness that left her trying to move as little as possible. An instinctive groan came out of her as she gradually opened her eyes, squinting through the light to see the crystalline ceiling of the cave above her.
As she came to, she felt the warmth of a blanket draped over her and a cushion under her, and realized she was in the bed. Confused, she leaned up to look around the room. Light poured in from the cave entrance, signaling the later time of day. Perhaps she had slept in a bit longer than normal.
Images of the night before rose up in her mind as she slowly got out of the bed, her stomach buzzing with discomfort. All of her limbs ached as she made her way to the cave entrance, trying to move her joints as little as possible. She squinted as the sunlight shone down on her. As her eyes adjusted, she looked around the meadow. The sun was well past its midday peak, the warmer colors of the late afternoon now adorning the open space.
Finally, she spotted a figure knelt in the dirt by the flower garden, their back turned to her. Reyna walked over to him, and eventually he glanced behind to see her approach.
"Hey," Mason said, looking up to her from where he was knelt. His cotton clothes and hands were smudged with dirt, and she noticed what may have been a leaf stuck in his reddish-brown hair. "How are you feeling?" he said in a casual tone.
Reyna sighed as she sat down beside him, crossing her legs. "Tired."
He gave a small smile, despite a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I'll bet."
A moment of silence passed. Reyna took a deep breath, but Mason spoke up before she could.
"I'm sorry," he said, the same sad smile on his face. "You were right."
She looked at him with a pained expression. "Don't-"
"No, really. I thought about it. You're right. It was really… insensitive of me," he said toying with the petals of one of the flowers. "It's not my place to tell you what to do, or what's too much for you."
"Maybe not," Reyna said. "But you were right, too. It was too much. I don't know if I would have stopped if you hadn't come."
Mason nodded slightly, his face mostly unreadable.
"I just…" Mason started, staring off towards the sea. "I hate seeing people get hurt. Especially when they do it to themselves, you know? Those people are always the least deserving of it, too. People like… like you," he said, glancing at her. "I guess sometimes I forget that they do it for a reason. That they need to."
Reyna followed his gaze to stare out at the water as well. "I understand."
She paused.
"I don't know if I've ever really given myself a moment to breathe."
Mason turned to look at her as she continued.
"My entire life has felt like one long sprint to get to a finish line that keeps moving further away. And I don't think I've ever stopped to realize it." She rubbed her fingers over the tattoo on her wrist. "It's easy to forget when you just don't stop moving, because you train your body and your mind to ignore the pain and push through. Eventually you hardly feel the pain at all."
Reyna closed her eyes. "But that doesn't mean it isn't there."
She opened her eyes again to see Mason looking at her, eyes intent with his full attention.
"I don't know how much longer we are going to be here," she said. "But regardless of how long, I don't want it to hurt any more than it has to, for either of us."
Mason nodded.
"I forgive you, you know."
She gave him a weak but genuine smile. "And I, you."
He leaned in to wrap one arm around her in a less-than-full but still wholehearted hug, which she returned. It was awkward, but Reyna still felt a surge of appreciation. She had already imagined what being trapped here would have been like on her own, and had noted to herself that she was grateful to have someone else with her. However, in that moment, she realized that it wasn't just that. She was grateful that it was him.
They sat on the ground quietly for a minute, contemplating the new air between them.
"Today's the day, isn't it?" Mason asked. "Camp Jupiter's attack?"
Reyna nodded.
"So… are we still trying to get out of here?"
"I… don't know," Reyna admitted. "It's too late for me to join in the attack. But Camp Half-Blood…"
Mason nodded, then looked off with a contemplative look. "You know, Hestia said something that I've been thinking about. About how there were other ways to save Camp Half-Blood other than me taking the Torch. That it… didn't have to be me, I guess. Or us." He looked at Reyna. "It seemed like… she was trying to reassure me that it didn't all ride completely on us."
"I suppose there are plenty of capable campers," she said. "Many of which would be eager to seek out a solution. But then… why the prophecy?"
"The one you were given? I don't know… maybe we're just part of it? Or maybe it wasn't even meant for you, and you were just the person that heard it."
Reyna leaned back until her head rested against the ground, her eyes staring up into the clear sky. "It's difficult. Giving up control like this. Giving up agency. But… I feel like it's part of what my mother is trying to tell me."
She tilted her head to look to Mason. "I don't know if we will ever leave this place."
Reyna expected Mason to look dejected or maybe try to hide a crestfallen expression. Instead, he looked down at her with a concern very obviously directed entirely towards her. "And are you okay with that?"
Any other time, thoughts would have started pouring in and out of Reyna's mind, ideas and worries and contemplations flowing like the violent crashing of waves in a storm. However, in that moment, she found her mind almost entirely still as she looked back at Mason, his golden-brown eyes as warm as the candle that had laid beside the bed last night. She thought about him, sitting there in the rocking chair in the dead of night, patiently and graciously giving up the bed on the off chance that she would come back that night.
"I suppose it depends on what our time here actually becomes," she said.
Mason smiled, this time without the sad undertones from before. He stood up from the ground, shook some of the dirt from his hands, then reached down to extend a hand to help her up. "Let's make the most of it, then."
(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)
The days didn't pass by in a blur, at least at first. Reyna wasn't sure if she would have wanted them to or not, but regardless, she felt each and every hour as they came and went. Perhaps a part of her was still punishing herself in some small way by counting the days and thinking of both demigod camps. However, as the days progressed in their time on Ogygia, she learned to let go of the pressing pain, or at least begin to, and instead tried her best to make her time with Mason mean something.
(music: Things That Make It Warm - Cavetown)
Unlike before, when they would exchange pleasantries before going off on their own, the two of them spent nearly all of their time together, one way or another. Mason had especially taken to gardening, using some prior knowledge combined with information found in Calypso's journal, and Reyna was happy to join him in looking after the beautiful array of plants. She wasn't quite as in tune with the practice as him, but she found it soothing to walk through the garden and tend to the plants, and Mason's enthusiasm over it all was hard not to find infectious. He gushed about a plant called Moonlace that apparently could only be planted at night, talking about how there was nothing like this anywhere else. It was endearing, to say the least.
Of course, they did still spend some time on their own, knowing that occasional privacy and solitude was important. Reyna still felt a motivation to stay active, and thus built up a routine that included a few laps around the island in the morning followed by a set of exercises. Mason joined in occasionally, but Reyna wasn't going to push him, especially with his bad ankle, so he typically stopped mid-way through. Mason seemed generally less inclined than Reyna to actively seek out alone time, but he still managed to find some interest in trying to figure out how to work the loom that sat in the cave. Still, many times their individual activities took place near each other, as they were both content to simply have the other nearby even as they did their own things, exchanging glances and smiles from across the meadow or beach.
Aside from that, they talked with each other about nearly everything, from what life was like at Camp Jupiter, to travel spots in the Midwest, to why the gods acted the way they did, and even to what their favorite foods were. Reyna was both surprised and amused when she discovered what topic got Mason the most energetic.
"This is totally just like that scene in Tangled," Mason said as he swept the floor of the cave. "Where she's stuck in the tower for ages."
Reyna gave him a blank look.
He returned her look with one of suspicion. "You know. Rapunzel, Mother Gothel, Flynn Rider, magic hair," he said. "When will my liiiiiife begiiiiiin?" he sang out with exaggerated hand motions, swinging his broom around before looking back to her.
She shrugged.
"Oh my god. You haven't seen Tangled. Man, I wish they had put a TV in here. Tell me you've at least seen some of the classic ones."
She gave a sheepish smile as she thought about it. "I think I saw Pocahontas once, a while ago."
Mason gawked at her with a shocked and nearly offended expression. "Wait, so you've never seen any Disney movies aside from Pocahontas? Parents never put on any for you as a kid?"
"I didn't exactly have a normal home life as a child," she reminded him.
"Oh, right," he said before quickly recovering. "Still, you really never caught up? No friends insisting you come over for a movie night?"
"I'm not really one for that kind of thing."
"What, friends?"
"No, you sun-face, movies."
Mason shook his head as he continued sweeping. "That's a shame. So what do you do with your free time?"
Reyna huffed. "I don't exactly have much of that to begin with."
Mason stopped and leaned against the broom, looking towards her. "Well, what would you want to do with it if you did?"
She hadn't thought about it much over the years, with most of her attention being given to either surviving or helping others do so. Still, there had been momentary glimpses of things that caught her interest. Hobbies and pastimes that seemed enticing had she only had time for them.
"I'm not sure," she said. "Sometimes I try my hand at little sketches and such when I need my hands to be moving. Never anything elaborate, though."
"Well there you go," Mason said. "Why not start now?" He gestured around them. "Plenty of time to."
So she did.
(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)
"Could you do me a favor?"
Reyna looked up from the notebook in her lap. She had noticed that Calypso's journal only had writing on one side of the pages, so she had decided to begin putting down sketches on the opposite ones. She had hesitated doing so at first, a part of her feeling like it was sacrilege or an invasion of privacy, but Mason had helped convince her that it was probably something Calypso would find endearing anyway. She was halfway through a rough and poorly executed sketch of a flower.
"What is it?"
Mason had come over to where she was sitting in the garden, previously sat himself in the mouth of the cave. In his hands was the Torch from Hestia.
"I've been trying to focus on this, figure out how I'm meant to light it. I just can't seem to get in touch with it."
Reyna set the journal down. "You can't light it from an existing fire?"
"Doesn't work like that, unfortunately. I've tried. I think it's more… personal. It has to come from me."
"So what do you need my help for?"
Mason sat down in front of her, crossing his legs. "You mentioned you have a… special ability, of sorts? Like, giving strength to others or something?"
Reyna nodded, understanding what he wanted. "I could try it."
Mason smiled. "Thanks."
They sat for a moment.
"So, uh, how does it work? Do you just concentrate, or…"
She pursed her lips. "Give me your hand."
Mason blinked. "Okay. Right." He reached out his hand, and Reyna grabbed it.
"Now, just… concentrate on the Torch like you were before. You'll feel it."
Mason nodded, closing his eyes, and Reyna did the same. She breathed deeply and focused, feeling the tattoo on her forearm heat up. Mason's breath steadied as she did, and they sat there, focusing for a good minute before opening their eyes again. They both looked to the Torch in Mason's hand.
It was still unlit.
Mason sighed. "Well, it was worth a try."
Reyna nodded, still slightly dizzy from lending her strength. She was used to getting a kind of emotional feedback from the person she used her ability on, but it felt different this time. There was definitely pain present in him, but there was also an odd feeling of buzzing energy that spread a warmth through her, like she had just taken a sip of hot coffee.
"By the way," Mason said. "I was thinking we could do an actual full dinner tonight? I found a nice table we could set up down at the beach, and I had a few dishes in mind we could make. Figured it would be nice to take a break from just eating fruit and veggie bowls in the cave."
Reyna smiled, her forearm still warm. "That sounds great."
(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)
I hate being wrong.
Leo and I have been hard at work arranging his means of escape, after our encounter with Gaea. It feels satisfying to be working towards something again; to have a goal that is reachable rather than working for its own sake. Don't misunderstand me – my daily chores are one of the primary things that have maintained my sanity in my time here. However, it does not compare to the energy I feel when I'm constructing a sail for a boat that will actually be leaving this island. Or at least I hope it will.
I'm not quite sure what to make of Leo anymore. He is still in the habit of making snide remarks at any opportunity, but when he isn't being sarcastic or completely focused on his work, he's actually annoyingly… considerate. It's as if he can't actually decide if he wants to be nice or not, so he ends up nearly hurting himself in the confusion. It's quite amusing to watch, actually, and it's made me take to teasing him quite often to see him get flustered and thrown off.
Just today, he jokingly offered me a job at his future auto repair company (I'm not exactly sure what that is, but I assume it has something to do with his mechanical talents), complete with a dual-ownership title. He was still being humorous about it all, but I think it's a genuine dream of his, so it's hard to tell where the joke ends and the truth begins. He clearly desires this repair shop of his; is he also being genuine in wanting me to be a part of it? I still don't know if he means it or not, and I'm not sure which makes my stomach turn more.
We plan on having a light dinner down at the beach tonight, despite the fact that we now lack a perfect dining table for doing so. Why am I nervous? I thought I wasn't going to do this to myself again.
I suppose I might have been wrong. I hope not.
(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)
Despite Calypso's explanation of how the magic on the island had kept her from ever aging, Reyna knew that that was not the case for her and Mason. She wasn't sure exactly how long it had been since they arrived, but she distinctly remembered the moment where that fact became real for her.
"I'm thinking about letting it grow out," Mason said as he stroked his chin, which was covered with a fairly substantial amount of stubble. A reddish-brown beard wrapped around his chin and up into sideburns, accompanied by a matching mustache. The hair on top of his head was grown out, too, now reaching just beneath his ears, and revealing a curliness that hadn't shown itself when it was shorter.
"What do you think?" Mason asked.
Reyna gave an approving nod. "It's not bad. Though, I'm not quite sure how you'd plan to cut it even if you wanted to." She picked up her golden dagger from where it was sitting on an end table next to her. "I could try with this," she said, a sly twinkle in her eye.
"Uh, I think I like the beard," Mason said, lifting his hands up. "But thanks."
Reyna smiled as she put the knife back down, thinking about the two of them surviving on the island. Clearly, they were still aging, as evidenced by the growing hair. So it stood to reason that they wouldn't be stuck here forever; if they really never managed to find a way to leave, they would presumably die of old age, or whatever came with it. A few weeks ago, that thought may have worried her, but now it was almost a relief. Not because her time here had been poor, but because an eternity stuck in one place seemed entirely more frightening than a slow and peaceful death.
"Speaking of, what about your hair?" Mason's voice brought her out of her thoughts.
"What about it?"
He gestured to her hair. "Did you want to cut it?"
It was getting fairly long, now reaching past her shoulders. She usually had kept it up in her typical braid or ponytail, but now she often didn't bother, letting it hang down freely.
She ran her hand through her hair. "Perhaps. It would definitely be easier than shaving you. And I am more used to it being shorter."
Mason hummed in absentminded agreement, staring at her hair. "Either way, you should let it down more."
Reyna scrunched her eyebrows. "What? Why?"
Mason shrugged. "It looks good. I like it."
She stared at him for a moment with her mouth hanging open slightly, before he got up from his chair and made his way over to where their dinner was cooking, cheerily humming to himself the whole way, and Reyna couldn't tell if he was oblivious to his own words or if he was intentionally messing with her.
(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)
When she stopped to think about it, Reyna was surprised at how much she appreciated the life they had eased into. There were still days in which she'd think about the outside world: Camp Half-Blood, Camp Jupiter, and everything going on around them. If she were honest, it still hurt to remember. But she no longer felt the need to leave. Maybe it was the fact that any problems transpiring had likely already been dealt with without her, or at least they would have changed so much that she would be too out of the loop to help.
It was odd imagining what they all thought of her disappearance, and how much things might have changed for them. Keeping track of the days was something Reyna and Mason had both given up on a long time ago. It had been at least a few months. Was it a year? Probably not, but it felt like it at times.
Reyna and Mason had become incredibly familiar with each other. Not just in the obvious sense of getting to know each other and talking about themselves; they found a flow in their daily lives that allowed them to weave in and out of each other's space effortlessly. Little things, like Reyna finding herself handing Mason garden tools as he needed them without either of them saying anything, or calling out the colors of bowls to each other from across the cave to signal what food they felt like having that night. They still talked with each other, but the daily routines themselves didn't require any verbal communication anymore.
Reyna decided one night to throw a wrench into one of their unspoken routines.
Once she had finishing washing up for the night, she entered the bedroom to find Mason already on the ground in his usual mound of pillows and blankets, the Torch propped up against the wall next to him. He had exerted himself more than usual today, wanting to push himself in his exercising, so he seemed especially tired that night, his eyes already lilting shut. As she looked down at him, she couldn't help but say something out loud she had considered before.
"You know there's enough room on the bed for both of us, right?"
Mason looked up at her, confused. "What?"
She rolled her eyes. "I understand being considerate and appropriate, and I've been fine with our arrangement thus far, but don't you think it's slightly unnecessary at this point?"
Mason's eyes seemed a bit more alert as he fumbled over his words. "Uh, I guess, I just didn't want… I didn't think you were fine with it, and that you… well…"
She stood with her hands on her hips. "What, that I didn't trust you?"
He gave her a sheepish smile. "I guess so?"
"Well, I do, alright? Besides, even if you somehow conjured up the guts to try anything, you and I both know that I would never allow for even a hint of that, nor would you stand the remotest chance at forcing it."
A nervous chuckle left his mouth as he ruffled his hair. "Yeah…"
Reyna climbed into the bed, making sure to occupy only half of it. "Come on. I don't bite. Unless I have to."
Mason still seemed hesitant, but nevertheless he relented, blowing out the candle on the bedside table before carefully shifting under the blanket until he was lying straight.
They both laid still in the darkness, staring up at the crystal ceiling for what seemed like an eternity, their steady breaths the only sound.
"Maybe this was a bad idea," Reyna whispered after a while.
"You think?" Mason whispered back loudly. "I'm more awake than I was ten minutes ago!"
Reyna couldn't hold back a snicker. "You are the epitome of flustered modesty."
"What, is it a problem that I'm uncomfortable sharing a bed with a woman I'm not involved with?"
"No, it's c-… it's just funny."
Mason huffed. "Well, here's hoping you're capable of laughing yourself to sleep, cause I don't know what I'm gonna do."
She bumped her leg into his. "You'll be fine. Just focus on something else."
Mason mumbled something.
"What?" she said.
"Nothing."
They were silent for another minute.
"Thank you, though," Mason said.
"Hm?"
"I was feeling pretty sore, so the bed is nice."
"Mmhmm. Sleep now."
"Okay."
(|- - - - -[H]- - - - -|)
Reyna had never been one to seek out physical affection. She didn't abhor it, and there were plenty of times when it didn't even feel uncomfortable, but usually she would only give hugs if the other person was initiating, and only in rare cases. Of course, there weren't many people who would actually initiate it with her. She knew she gave off an aura of seriousness, and she was fine with it for the most part, as it seemed like a part of the respect she could receive and give being a figure of authority.
However, even if her inner tendencies didn't change, Mason and Reyna found themselves having formed a habit of exchanging brief physical touches throughout the day. There was never anything suggestive or sensual about it, and a lot of the time it didn't amount to much more than a tap on the shoulder or a brush of the hand. Still, it was something they had begun to do more, if subconsciously. It was like a reminder that there was another person of flesh and blood there with them, and not just some apparition or hallucination.
The two of them continued to share the bed at night, and they did eventually get accustomed to it, the embarrassment diminishing for the most part. The bed was just small enough for it to be uncomfortable enough, but still large enough to host two people without many spacing issues.
Still, they occasionally bumped elbows and knees when one of them would adjust slightly in the night, and Reyna woke at least once to an arm draped over her shoulder, which she had quickly removed before its owner could wake.
One night, before she fell asleep, she found her hand resting on his, and she didn't move it.