Author's note ~ Hope you enjoy.
"Huh." Newt said thoughtfully, ducking out of the building and heading off to handle other matters. He let the concept circle around in his head as he went about his day, trying to figure out exactly what the man had meant. He'd never thought about the importance of hope before, but he was giving it some serious consideration now.
Two weeks passed. The new greenie was a tall sturdy boy by the name of Billy, who was quickly placed with the track-hos and looked to be settling in to the routines of the glade without particular distress. Life trudged on; Frypan cooked, Jeff and Clint studied, and Newt ran.
Hope – both the concept and the emotion itself – were very much on Newt's mind as he went about his business. The amorphous ideas in the back of his mind began to form into more solid, realistic possibilities the longer he mulled them over. As thrilled as he was to have regained his friendship with the man, he still felt a lingering yearning, a persistent desire for just a little bit more. A little bit more the man was frustratingly unwilling to give.
What had he said? Newt thought as he jogged past the stone and ivy monotony of the maze walls. He prefers a lover with more experience? Feeling ashamed of his inability to participate during the last event, Newt begrudgingly conceded that Adrian may, in fact, have made a good point.
If he couldn't enjoy the no-pressure services of the girls, how could he jump into something much more intense and just expect that he wouldn't panic? If, by some great stretch of imagination, the scenario between him and Adrian had played out differently that night...would he have been able to actually take part, or would he have balked and bailed?
Secure in the privacy of the maze, he came to an uncomfortable answer.
Okay, so maybe he was inexperienced. Maybe he wasn't ready for something so serious and involved. Yet. But he earnestly wanted to be, and the only way to get what he wanted was to work towards it until it was in his grasp.
His naivety didn't come of any particular surprise – the notion of seeking physical affection from others in the glade had never held any appeal to him. Now that he was aware of the periodic visits of the girls and the activities their company entailed...well, he recognized an opportunity when it slithered up and molested him. He came to the conclusion that the best course of action would be to try and talk to one of the girls, perhaps Ashley, as she'd been so understanding and respectful of his refusal.
It's like running the maze, he decided, his breath huffing out in rhythmic little pants as he ran. You follow the keeper for days and, if you survive Minho's sarcasm, he lets you start marking the map for the day, then slowly taking the lead. He tests you, makes you prove you can do it before you're ever let out on your own. Even then, we usually have someone shadow the newbies for a day or two, just to make sure they don't face-plant or get horridly lost. You don't just get tossed out here to map a whole bloody section solo on your first run.
Maybe, he mused, if I swallow my pride and learn, try to take part in that witch's games, get some experience under my belt...
A spark of hope burned hot inside him, fueled by the solid outlines of a plan, fanned by the wings of stubborn determination.
I'll probably need multiple 'lessons', and it won't be quick...but really, what's a couple of weeks? If I can do this, maybe I can prove to him that I'm not just an ignorant little kid, show him I'm mature enough to know what I want. Maybe I can make him reconsider.
Maybe...
The eve of the next girl's night, Newt followed closely behind an eager Minho and had to keep reminding himself to breathe. Nervous and sweaty but committed, he clung to his plan and absently made small talk with the other boys as they waited for their guests to arrive. He forced himself not to scowl at the woman when she led the others into the small clearing and scanned the waiting gladers, even painfully managing a small smile in hopes she wouldn't punish him for his hostility during their first meeting. When her eyes met his she merely quirked one dark eyebrow, inclining her head slightly to the side in a cold half-nod of acknowledgement before continuing to take stock.
"Tonight, new game for boys." She said archly, smiling faintly and producing a fistful of familiar colored cloths from the depth of her cloak. She passed them off to Brittney and Ashley, Sarah waiting silently by her side as the other two walked through the clusters of gladers, handing them out. Once every boy held a flag, Althea spread her hands and held them palms up, an open invitation.
"Kindly to tie on, cover eyes."
The boys glanced sideways at each other, not sure what to make of the unusual request.
"All is well, no need for fear. Cover eyes, please."
She smiled teasingly, sealing her lips until every pair of eyes was dutifully obscured with the filmy blindfolds. Sarah moved in to help her sisters as they moved among the sightless boys, gently but firmly taking each by the hand and leading them forward, strategically placing them at well spaced intervals in the circular area before taking position themselves and tying on their own blindfolds..
"When I am to start you, you are to finding girls without seeing. If they are caught, girl will mark your cheek, and you earn kiss! By end of game, in two of hours, three with most mark earn top reward."
Being fully aware of exactly what kind of prize was on the line this time, the boys were suddenly eager to get started and collect as many kisses as they could in the time allotted.
"If any boy peeks, he will no more play. And will not play next night." She warned sternly, knowing no one would dare cheating if it meant incurring such a harsh punishment. She stepped to the edge of the area, slickly moving out of the way of the already windmilling arms and widely reaching hands.
"Begin now!" She called into the humming tension and palpable air of intense concentration.
She bit her lip to hold in a laugh as the better part of thirty blind boys began to shamble and stagger around drunkenly, searching the air in front of them with their grasping finger tips. There was a multi-person pile up almost immediately, a crash that resulted in a wild tangle of flailing limbs and impressive cursing as the victims tried wildly to free themselves. On the other side of the clearing, Ben had groped his way over to the treeline and gotten his hands on an equally blind George. Smiling identical idiotic smiles, the boys pulled each other close and connected in a sloppy kiss before either realized that they had not, in fact, connected with one of the sought after targets.
There was suddenly a lot of cursing from that side of the space too, as well as spitting and accusatory insults from both.
Satisfied that things were well in hand Althea slipped away, heading back to the comforting solitude of the house in the woods to wait. Halfway there she realized she was being followed and stopped in her tracks, heaving a deep, disappointed sigh.
"You should stay with others. I cannot give you what you seek."
Alby stepped out from the cover of the brush, the blindfold he'd neglected to secure hanging limply from his fingers.
"How do you know what I seek?" Alby challenged, trying to seem calm and mature despite his hammering heart. "At the moment I'm not looking for anything more than the pleasure of your company, a chance to talk and spend some time with you. Is that so wrong?"
"This is not healthy, for leader to follow me. Go back, stay with others. Play with my rebenok."
"I'd rather stay with you." He replied softly.
"Please." She tried, her tone low and sad now. "Please, do not make difficult, for you...for me."
"I'm a big boy." Alby reminded, standing his ground. "I go where I like, when I like. Tonight, I'd like to go with you. I'm asking for some casual conversation, not your hand in marriage."
"As you wish, then." She snapped, the words sharp from her irritation. "Tonight, you may follow."
Alby quick-stepped to her side, the teeth of his wide grin gleaming white in his dark face.
"So, where are we going?" He asked cheerfully, clearly not put off by her frustration, effortlessly keeping pace with the woman's long, ground eating strides.
"To only place with bit of...privacy." She replied vaguely, cutting through the maze of foliage as though she'd spent years memorizing every tree and shrub in the forest. In very short order they stood in front of Adrian's little house. She sent the visibly nonplussed boy a withering glance, sure that the tangible, undeniable connection would shake the boy's affection enough to have him running back to the others. Alby surprised her, shouldering through his discomfort and following her into the dwelling, waiting silently as she lit candles and made herself at home.
"It's...kind of Adrian to give you access to his home. Do you come here often?" Alby said, making the words as easy and careless as he could. The irritating, niggling little voice in the back of his head cursed the stupidity of the question, reminding him that he was fully aware of the answer. Louder yet though was the more hopeful, wishful part of his brain, steadfastly pushing the reality aside and happily willing to remain ignorant. He chose to believe that the lovely woman in front of his eyes was truly a separate entity from the usual occupant of the building. Althea saw the struggle of the conflicting concepts on Alby's face, and couldn't help but to soften towards him.
"I am welcome to use when I wish, I was told. The man and I have...understanding, you see?"
Alby nodded agreeably, seating himself at the table and waiting for...
What, exactly? I didn't exactly plan to make it this far; what now?
The woman had apparently already considered this, retrieving a small bundle off a high shelf before joining him at the table. Shrugging off her cloak, she arranged herself in the chair across from him and unrolled a square of leather, laying it flat on the wooden surface. Upending a wooden pouch, she sent dozens of small carved figures rolling across the mat. The woman began to set the pieces up in four tidy rows and Alby looked closer, noting that the treated hide had been marked with a symmetrical grid pattern; it was a game board.
"If you will not stay with others and play, we will play different game. Game of strategy, of skill, of cunning. Is called chess." She said with a gleam in her eye, explaining the rules and basic premise of the game as succinctly as possible. They did a short mock game so that she could demonstrate how the various pieces could maneuver around the board, outlining the fundamentals of game play. Alby, being highly intelligent, grasped the information quickly; they reset the board together and began an actual game in earnest.
Alby took great care to consider his moves, trying to calculate the best way to defend his more valuable pieces with a minimum of other losses. Althea sat and waited patiently, watching him through the lacy black of her mask, her amusement glinting in her eyes. She would barely glance at the board before making her moves, striking with a cold brutality before pulling back, teasingly playing with him as a cat might with an injured rat.
"Where did you learn to play?" He asked, part from curiosity, part to stall for time. The woman deliberated for a moment before answering.
"Mama taught me, when I was very small. She would tell to me, 'Greatest weapon is not body – is mind. Out think your enemies and war may be won with little blood.'"
"That sounds like excellent advice. Where is she now?"
Althea turned her face away quickly, but not before Alby caught a glimpse of the old pain and sorrow on her face.
"I'm sorry Althea, I didn't...I shouldn't have..."
"Is old wound." She spoke so low it was almost a whisper, her eyes still averted. The game lay neglected between them. "Many, many year ago. And still, I ache for her. Why?"
Alby rose from his seat and went to her, wrapping his arms around her and just holding her. She leaned her head against his chest, taking comfort from the undemanding embrace. She lingered as long as she dared before easing away, gently nudging him back. He brushed her tousled hair off her face with tender, feather light fingers, trying to soothe away her distress. She took his hand and squeezed it once in silent thanks before gesturing him back to his seat.
"I am fine. You did not come here for this."
"I came here to get to know you better." Alby countered, gingerly moving his last bishop into an attack position that looked to be safe. "Do you have anyone waiting for you? Other family?"
Her knight swept over and took out his bishop, and he struggled to stifle a curse at the loss.
"My rebenok, of course."
"No one else? Is no one waiting for you?" He pushed. She hesitated.
"I....Ghosts. Only ghosts who wait for me at end of last day. One day, perhaps soon, I get to be with them again. I will kiss Mama and Otets, take their hands. I wait for day this happens. "
"You're talking about dying." Alby sat back, stunned. "You're...looking forward to death?"
Her smoky laugh was full of pity, an adult shaking their head at a clueless child.
"Why would I not, when I know what waits for me?"
"You can't think like that!" Alby cried, angry and upset at the thought. "Life is so much more than just waiting for death! We're here, we're alive, and we have to fight to stay that way! The glade isn't much but it's all we have; you can stay here, with us. We'll keep you safe, take care of you. Be your new family." He stressed. "When we get out – "
"You know I cannot." She chided. "You will get out. Boys too smart, too strong to stay trapped forever. I...I will not be here to see it."
"You're just going to give in, give up, not even try?" He demanded harshly. "Death isn't the answer!" She smiled a knowing smile.
"There is old proverb; 'Smert' otvechayet do togo, kak yego sprosyat'. It reads 'Death answers before it is asked.' I do not need ask, I know it will answer soon enough."
"We need you! The gladers, the girls...the games! We need you here!"
"You do not." She stated firmly. "Others can finish what I have started."
"But..."
"Already begins." She said, waving off his denial. "Sarah learns quickly; already she takes the front, leads other girls. She will take my place. One, perhaps two learning nights more, no more need of me to be here."
"I...I need you."
"My rebenok will take care of you. Is for the better."
"For the better." He said faintly, disdainfully. "Tell me then, Althea – if death is your answer, if you abandoning us is for the better, why did you even come here in the first place?"
"You had need of me then. My task is near complete. Your lives, they go on. In time, you will forget me, as is best."
"I'll never forget you." He vowed, his fists clenched on the table as he pushed himself to his feet. "If I live to be a hundred, I'll never forget you. And I'll be shucked if I'm just going to stand here and let you die!"
He swept out of the house in an admirably dramatic fashion, slamming the door shut behind him. Althea shook her head, looking down at the unfinished game a bit wistfully. She reached down after brooding for a moment and knocked her king over, peeling her mask off and getting up to undress.
Sitting on the bed to pull off the tall thin socks and leather boots, Adrian breathed a sigh of relief. The wig came off next, followed by the tightly laced leather around his rib cage. The loose, flowy shirt was up around his ears when a hard tapping sounded at the door. Cursing under his breath, he frantically pulled the top back in place, the overly wide neck falling off one shoulder as he jammed the wig back on to his head. Rapidly shifting back into character, unable to do more with her appearance in such a short time, Althea pulled the door open and tried as best as she could to block the view into the house with her body.
"Yes? What is it?"
Jeff stood, his fist raised to knock again, his mouth agape at the sight.
Her dark mane of hair tumbled and curled around her face in wild disorder, trailing down to the bagging neck of the thin top, exposing far more skin that was usual for her. Her skirt was mildly askew, he legs and feet were bare, and her face...her face beneath the tangles of hair was shockingly naked, bereft of the mask she was never seen without. Just visible behind her was the corner of a rumpled bed, her discarded boots on the floor...and a pair of Adrian's jeans, messily tossed on the end of the sofa.
Jeff just about swallowed his tongue.
"I, gah, I m-mean I, uh, that is..."
"What does healer need?" She asked tersely, annoyance radiating from her. He started to back away slowly, his hands spread open in front of him.
"It's nothing, nothing important. I, uh, was just going to ask Adrian if, that is..."
"He is...not available now." She said, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking a hip.
Jeff thought his head might pop from the sudden rush of blood to his face.
"Yeah, okay, that's okay, I'll just, you know, ask him later. I'm just gonna..."
He turned and fled, crashing into the night forest with the speed of the desperate. Althea closed the door behind her and latched it, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the wood in hopes of easing the pounding headache behind her eyes.
What a night.
The next afternoon, as the man put his back into some old fashion physical labor, he was already dealing with the fallout from Jeff's impromptu late night visit to his home. Forget cheetahs and falcons, Adrian thought drolly as he sweat his way through building a sturdy goose enclosure at the bloodhouse. Write off stealth bombers and guided missiles. The fastest moving thing known to man is a juicy bit of gossip in a small community.
He'd arrived for breakfast at a fairly early hour but even so, the nattering had already begun. Stifled chuckles and sly looks were thrown his way before he could fill his plate. Frypan winked at him as he dished out his morning meal, heaping the tin dish higher than normal and gleefully starting right in.
"You could prob'ly use it this morning, seens as you had such an...exhausting night."
Knowing better than to respond, Adrian nodded his thanks and made his way over to sit with Newt and the other runners. Three different gladers got up and punched him in the shoulder in a congratulatory way before he got there. Others looked faintly embarrassed, while a few tried and failed to mask expressions of envy. He plopped down next to Newt with a grunt, not needing to look at Minho to know the keeper was wearing a wide, ecstatic grin.
"Hail, the conquering hero!" Minho crowed, lifting his jar in mock salute. "I'm sure it was a hard fought battle, but you managed to emerge with all your limbs intact! Or, at least, all the ones we can see..."
The others around them howled with delight, Newt the only one abstaining. Adrian flashed a toothy smile with his response.
"All present and accounted for. Thanks for your concern."
"If that's true, you must have asked her to be gentle." Minho said solemnly, to another chorus of laughter. He leaned closer. "So...was she?"
"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."
The others started complaining and shoving, trying to cajole the man into sharing details. He sat placidly through it, eating his breakfast and trying not to laugh at the sheer oddness of some of the questions and comments being thrown his way. Newt was sitting very still beside him, engrossed in studying the last few mouthfuls left on his plate.
"You okay kid? You're strangely quiet." He asked neutrally.
"What? Yeah, fine, just thinking...just thinking."
"Something wrong?"
"Nnnnnno. No. It's nothing."
"Alright. I'll be at the bloodhouse today, if you need me for anything." He commented easily, deciding to leave well enough alone for now. He figured he'd ferret out the root of Newt's dejected expression after the evening meal, when there was less of an audience. He had a pretty good guess as to why the kid was upset but hoped that, given a little time to absorb the implications, the now widely heard rumors might actually turn out to be beneficial. If he thought Adrian was involved with someone else, he'd be more likely to move on himself.
While Winston and the other slicers weren't fully sold on the idea of caring for a gaggle of geese, Adrian was pretty sure that he'd been able to convince them to at least give it a try. Cutting and shaping the branches for the sturdy cage took up a chunk of his morning, anchoring them into the ground and thatching the skeletal framework of the roof bled over into the afternoon. He'd moved on to creating the swinging gate and simple latch when Alby strolled over to inspect his work.
"Building a jail for toddlers?" He quipped, his dark eyes shrewd.
"Worse." The man replied with a grin. "Foul, honking demons – better known as geese. Keeping a dozen or so should, properly managed, give you guys a nice steady supply of meat and boost the number of eggs for the kitchen too. Win-win."
"You guys?"
"Yeah." Adrian winced lightly at the unspoken bite to the words, scratching at the back of his neck where sweat had trickled and dried. He glanced around briefly to see if anyone was within earshot but one of the benefits of working at the bloodhouse was how spread out the layout was – the closest pen was too far away for eavesdropping, and there was only one small shed directly between the new enclosure and the main building, providing a fairly clear view of the area should anyone happen to approach. It was well past time for this conversation, and the man wasn't looking forward to it.
"Planning on going somewhere?" Alby asked coolly, eyes sharp.
"You already know the answer to that." Adrian reminded, bending over and securing the gate in place. "The way I see it, it's surprising they've let me stay as long as I have. The biggest projects and improvements are already done; all that's left is fine tuning, and you don't need me for that. I'm expecting a summons any time now."
"And you'll just go quietly, say your goodbyes and walk right into their hands, be the good little sheep, ready for the slaughter?" Embers of anger crackled in Alby's voice, making it difficult for the man to resist responding in kind.
"There's no way around it." Adrian responded evenly, gathering his tools and looking the leader right in the eyes. "I told you from the beginning - I'm temporary, and it's almost time to punch my card and clock out. I explained all this to you before, I don't much care to do it again." He walked over to the shed to stow the implements, Alby hot on his heels.
"Well, you can't always get what you want, can you?" Alby sneered a little, venting his spleen at the situation on the only handy target. Adrian stopped dead in his tracks, standing as rigid as the walls that surrounded them.
"You think I want this?" He asked, deadly calm. "That I want what comes next?"
"I think you're a coward, blindly accepting something that hasn't even happened yet instead of trying to change what may be. Where's your bravado, singing to the guys to boost their spirits, to fill them with the urge to fight back, whatever it takes? What of the hope you've been nagging me about, the hope they all need to keep them going?"
"Of course I still have hope. But when you stand at the gallows with the noose around your neck, the best you can hope for is a quick end."
"Like shuck. It ain't over 'til it's over. You give up now – "
Adrian dropped his tools with a clatter, whirling and marching over until he was nose to nose with the furious leader. Caught in the heat of the moment, neither of them heard the approaching footsteps.
"I hate to break it to you, but it IS over." Adrian growled, his own temper in full swing. "Take a bow, say goodnight. There's exactly two ways out – death, or horrific torture and then death. I know which one they want, and you can bet your ass I'll be doing my best not to give it to them." Adrian snarled, his expression fierce. "I'll slit my own throat before playing their game!"
"Not gonna happen." The words were low and angry, but Alby's voice shook just a little, betraying him. "We'll figure something out. Fake your death here, hide you away until we can find a way out." Adrian just laughed bitterly at the idea.
"They'll see through that in a heartbeat. And when they start killing you off, one by one? When the choice has to be made, your lives or mine? Do you really expect me to hide under a bush and watch you die for me?"
"They wouldn't." Confident words in an unsure tone.
"Of course they will." Adrian scoffed.
"You think this is some fairy tale, some moralistic children's story? You think with enough grit and heart we can manufacture a happy ending for everyone, skip off into the sunset and leave the darkness behind?" The man smiled contemptuously at the idea, sarcasm heavy in his voice. "I hate to break it to you, fearless leader, but we happen to live in the real world, not some overly simplified happy picture book for preschoolers. And the ugly truth of the real world is that sometimes there is no happy ending. Sometimes there is no way out. You fight and bleed and struggle, you give everything to protect the people you care about, and guess what? Sometimes the assholes win and you end up dying anyways."
"There has to be a way!" Alby shouted, his face screwed up in anger and determination.
"There is. My way." Adrian stated righteously. "When the end comes for me, it comes by my own hand. It's my choice, my right. And it's the only thing I have left."
He scooped up the scattered bits he'd discarded during the heated exchange and ducked into the shed, storing them neatly, his tense shoulders falling into a slump of acceptance.
"Death comes for everyone, eventually." The man said with a grim note of finality in his voice. "What defines us is how we greet it when it knocks on our door."
Alby hung on to a support post weakly, trying to process the macabre sentiment. Unseen, a solitary figure sprinted out from behind the hut, the warm sunlight glinting off his blonde hair as he tried to escape from the the horror of what he'd overheard.
Author's note ~
See you next chapter!
~Ruby