IN THE TIME WE HAVE, Chapter 3
Dawn greeted Elsie as a dim glow seeping through half-closed eyelids. The blonde yawned and rolled over lazily; her arm reached out to wrap around her companion only to fall upon an empty sleeping bag.
She opened her eyes fully, squinting briefly while adjusting to the light. At least Lara's pack was still there, she noted with relief. Not that she worried the brunette would have vanished without her in the night, but the pack's presence was at least reassuring.
She turned over and peered out the tent flap to find the brunette sitting cross-legged out on the outcrop and reading a book.
Elsie flopped her head back down and smiled to herself. Ever the bookworm...
She lay there, unmoving, quietly taking stock of the previous day; all in all, Lara seemed to be enjoying herself, energized, even. She'd even seemed comfortable with Elsie's blatant cuddling in the snug confines of the sleeping bag, to the blonde's delight.
Sam's e-mail reply had revealed Lara had been getting progressively worse for months, going with little sleep and pushing herself ever harder, to the point that the Asian-American feared the archaeologist might vanish from the Earth as her father had. But here at least, in the splendid tranquility and isolation of the Maine wilderness, the brunette seemed to be finding a second wind.
A moment later Elsie blinked. The tent seemed noticeably brighter, the distant birdsongs confirming her suspicion: she'd nodded off.
She pushed herself up into a sitting position, stretched and rubbed her eyes. Drawing a deep breath, she rummaged through her pack until she found her copy of Daughters of the Witching Hill. Determined to join her friend for a bit of reading before breakfast, she grasped the tome and crawled out of the tent.
Only the Englishwoman had dissapeared. Elsie staggered to her feet and looked about the campsite: there was no sign of the archeologist.
Her eyes fell on the book Lara had been reading, carefully splayed upside down on the outcrop. Elsie noted the lack of a title on the binding or cover.
Curious, Elsie dropped down to her haunches and proceeded to flip through the tome's pages. It was immediately apparent it was no book in the conventional sense: rather, it looked to be a haphazard collection of notes that had been fairly recently rebound for convenience's sake, the various papers within being of different colours, weights, sizes and texture.
The contents made little sense; hand-drawn maps interspersed with scribbled notes that revealed little. The book expert in her recognized that the majority of the writing exhibited the telltale fading effects indicative of the passage of time, but the later pages displayed fresher writing in a different hand.
Croatoan…sounds familiar, where have I heard that before? Sie ist der schissel…that's gotta be German…Star Phenomenon…what is this stuff?
A weathered piece of graph paper clipped to a bound page contained several lines of handwritten text that appeared to be in Cyrillic.
She flipped over another page, drawing a sharp breath as her eyes fell on words that she recognized.
Yamatai. Axis research station.
Trinity.
Roanoke colony. Walter Raleigh. Connection?
Her mouth opened at the sight of the next hastily-scribbled note in fresh ink.
Maine dig. Beacham killed. Trinity involved. Ogham stones?
Elsie's stomach twisted into knots. "Fuck!"
"Elsie?"
The blonde jumped to her feet and spun around.
Lara approached her slowly, almost warily, a canteen dangling from the carrying strap in the archaeologist's hand.
"What are you doing?"
-oOo-
Elsie held out the brunette's notebook. "What the hell is this, Lara?" she asked angrily. "I thought you came here to get a break from this shit!?"
The archaeologist stopped in her tracks.
"You shouldn't have done that, Elsie," said Lara darkly, her tension rising. She'd always kept her notebook safe from prying eyes. "That's…private."
"Way to sideskirt the issue," countered the blonde. "And anyway, if it's so private, you shouldn't have left it lying around."
"I was only gone for a moment – "
"Answer my fucking question!" demanded Elsie. "Did you come here looking for something, Lara? Is that the real reason you came here?"
Lara shook her head. "No," she said. "I didn't lie to you, Elsie."
Elsie's shoulders sagged. "Sam was right," she said dismally. "You are obsessing. You can't even go one freaking day without diving right back into it, can you?"
"It's…not that simple…"
"The hell it isn't," said Elsie. She brandished Lara's book before her. "I'm keeping this until we get back – "
Lara took a step forward. "Don't even think it!"
The blonde's grey eyes flashed angrily. "Would you rather I burn it?"
Lara's nostrils flared. She took another step toward the American and held out her hand.
"Give it back, Elsie," she demanded. "I'm serious."
"No."
The two young women stood absolutely still, Lara trying to get a read on the blonde, desperately searching for any sign of wavering. But her friend's resolute glare dashed her hopes.
Lara dropped her canteen and moved toward the blonde. "Don't do this – "
Elsie took a half-step back.
"Are you going to hit me, Lara?" she asked softly.
Lara froze. For the first time since she'd known the American there was a genuine expression of wariness on the blonde's face – the fact that it was directed at Lara only made it doubly mortifying. The archaeologist shook her head vigorously.
"Of course not," said Lara. "I would never do that. But Elsie, I really must have my notes back...this isn't up for discussion…"
"Don't back me into a corner, Lara," warned the blonde, her pale eyes intense and unblinking. "You might not like the result…"
The American stood at little more than arm's length, the book tantalizingly almost within reach. If she was quick -
Lara lunged.
But Elsie was ready. She dropped to the ground and hooked her feet into Lara's in a perfect drop toehold. The brunette crashed unceremoniously to the dirt.
"Shit!"
The archaeologist was back on her feet in seconds, but it was enough. Elsie was off and running.
The Englishwoman pursued, but the blonde was frustratingly quick on her feet, running at a breakneck pace down the slope before plunging headlong into the brush. Lara was far from slow; with her long, athletic legs, she could outsprint all but the fleetest, which made her seeming inability to close the gap all the more exasperating.
It didn't take long for the archaeologist to realize where the American was headed.
No!
"Elsie! Stop!"
But the blonde never slowed.
Branches and snags whipped painfully at Lara's face and arms as she ran through the brush with reckless abandon, heedless of the stinging cuts.
A few moments later she burst out of the thickets, only to find Elsie on the riverbank: she'd arrived just in time to see the American throw her notes into the rushing waters.
"NO!"
Lara sprinted for the river's edge but was quickly tackled by the blonde; both crashed heavily to the ground.
"Lara, it's gone!" yelled Elsie. "Let it go!"
The brunette kicked herself free and scrambled for the water, before reeling under a fresh impact as Elsie threw herself on the archaeologist. The blonde used her momentum to roll the brunette onto her side, wrapping one leg around Lara's waist for good measure.
Lara twisted her body and overpowered the American, forcing herself back on all fours. Elsie's's grip barely waivered however, as she doggedly kept trying to roll both of them away from the water's edge.
Lara panicked; every second pushed the odds of her ever recovering her notebook closer to the infinitesimal. She crawled on all fours toward the river, now only a few frustrating feet beyond her reach, only to be thwarted as Elsie's leg wrapped once more around her midsection, the other hooking around one of Lara's legs and causing her to fall flat on her stomach.
"Let…GO!" cried the Englishwoman, reflexively striking out in desperation and catching Elsie square on the jaw, the loud crack audible over the roar of rushing water.
The blonde's grip was finally broken as she fell on her back. She was finally free of Elsie's relentless clutches, but Lara didn't move for the water. Rather, she was on her knees, both hands cupped over her mouth, horrified at the results of her handiwork.
"Dear God…"
Elsie was propped up on an elbow, rubbing her bruised jaw and glaring at the brunette. "Never, huh?"
"Elsie…I'm so sorry…"
Lara reached out for her companion, only to have the blonde swat her hand away.
"Just…leave it, okay?" said Elsie.
The American got to her feet and stormed off in the direction of their campsite without so much as a backward glance, leaving behind a mortified archaeologist.
-oOo-
The rest of the day was decidedly discomforting. For one, Elsie's jaw ached badly, though she didn't think there was any real damage. But she was becoming increasingly worried the same couldn't be said of her friendship with Lara.
The two young women hardly spoke; their hiking, which had been so fleet of foot and exhilarating the day before, had become slow and ponderous.
Elsie was hardly cognizant of the beauty of her surroundings; the wilds passed by virtually unnoticed as her gaze constantly fell upon her grim-faced companion. When she'd finally suggested a spot to make camp late in the day the brunette had simply dropped her pack to the ground and wandered off without a word.
In the event Elsie had time to pitch their tent, set lines in the river and start a fire by the time Lara returned.
"Hey," said Elsie sweetly, holding out a Jaffa Cake for her friend. Lara walked by her, ignoring the proffered treat.
"I'm going to bed," said the brunette neutrally.
"What? But it's not even dark yet," said the American. "Lara, wait – "
But the archaeologist had already kicked off her boots and shuffled into the tent.
Shit…
In truth, Elsie didn't have much of an appetite either - the cake tasted like so much damp cardboard. Her stomach was heaving so badly she thought she was going to be sick if she had another bite.
She gazed up at the faint stars emerging in the distant twilight, tears welling in her eyes. The two friends had hurt each other. Badly.
And it was killing her inside.
She tossed the rest of the confection in the fire. She couldn't let this continue.
She removed her boots and crawled into the tent; Lara had pre-emtively slipped into the sleeping bag with her back to the tent flap; the sight twisted like a knife in the blonde's stomach.
Elsie edged closer until she was directly behind the brunette. Lara, for her part, gave no acknowledgment of the blonde's presence.
The American reached out and gently stroked the archaeologist's hair.
"Lara, we need to talk," she said softly.
A sigh. "It's done, Elsie," said Lara. "We were both a bit plonkers today…let's just…sleep it off, okay?"
"I don't think trying to sleep it off is going to change much, Lara," said the blonde. "Please understand…I was really trying to help…"
"That kind of help I didn't need," said the Englishwoman.
"I'm sorry – "
"You have no idea what that book meant to me, Elsie," said Lara crossly.
"I don't give a flying shit about that book," said Elsie. "I give a shit about you. You're my friend, dammit..."
Silence.
"Please talk to me, Lara," pleaded the blonde. "You have no idea how miserable this is making me…"
"What would you have me say?" countered the Englishwoman. "Would it help if I said I'm just as miserable? Because you've no idea how much I hate myself right now…"
"I guess you must hate me too," said Elsie wretchedly, her voice catching.
"I could never hate you, Elsie," said Lara, still unmoving. "I keep telling myself…you just had no way of knowing."
"Knowing…what?" asked the blonde, a sense of foreboding looming within her.
"It's…not important now."
Elsie cupped the brunette's shoulder. "Lara, please, tell me…I'm getting the feeling I did something awful but I don't know what…"
"So just throwing my notebook away wasn't awful enough?"
"Lara, please..."
The brunette sighed.
"That book held information that I'd hoped might help me discover sites my father might've been searching for…and by extention why he dissapeared."
Elsie drew her hand back, a chill spreading down her spine.
"What?" she whispered, horrified.
"Does knowing that make you feel any better?" asked Lara.
Elsie fought a buildup of anguish. "No," she choked. "No, it doesn't."
"Like I said, it's not important now," said the brunette. "Let's just…get some sleep, okay?"
"Lara, why didn't you tell me?" asked the blonde.
"Would it have made a difference?"
"Yes," said Elsie sadly. "Yes, it does."
Elsie leaned back and grabbed her pack, feeling within until her hand closed around the familiar leather binding. Withdrawing the tome, she reached over Lara's side and placed the book in her hand.
Lara's head jerked up. Quickly grasping the tattered notebook, she flipped hurriedly through the pages, evidently hardly believing her eyes.
She sat up and spun around to face Elsie, her brown eyes wide.
"But…I saw you throw this in the river," she said incredously. "How did - "
"Actually…that was mine," explained Elsie. "I dropped yours in the bushes on the way down to the river…I figured you wouldn't notice…"
Lara's eyes were glittering as she gazed on the weathered leather cover. "I thought I'd lost this…"
"I wouldn't do that to you, Lara," said Elsie. "I just didn't want you to keep badgering me for it over the next five days. Anyway…I didn't realize…I'm so sorry…"
Lara reached out and gently caressed Elsie's bruised jaw. "Elsie, I'm the one who should be sorry. I'll never forgive myself – "
"Well you'd better," countered the blonde. "'Cause otherwise I won't forgive myself for putting you through that shit. So we can both continue to be miserable as vegan butchers or we can put it behind us. Deal?"
Lara looked intensely relieved. "Deal," she nodded. "And…I'll leave my notebook in my pack from here on…I promise."
Elsie grasped Lara's hands in hers. "Let's not fight again, 'kay?" she said softly. "Gods I hated that…"
Lara smiled. "Friends, yes?"
"Forever," echoed the blonde.
The brunette bit her lip as her gaze focused on Elsie's bruised jaw.
"Hey," said Elsie, squeezing her companion's hands comfortingly, "Stop torturing yourself. Everything's good."
"Elsie, that looks painful…"
"I'm fine, really," assured the blonde. "I'm tougher than I look. Anyway, it does give us something else to add to that list, doesn't it?"
Lara looked at her quizzically. "I'm not sure I follow…?"
Elsie grinned. "A seriously wicked right hook."
Lara's expression became instantly downtrodden.
"Shit," swore Elsie, aghast. "Lara, I'm sorry...that was cheap. I wasn't thinking."
"No, I entirely deserve it," said the brunette dejectedly.
"No, you don't - "
Lara's brown eyes bored into hers. "I struck one of the very few people in this world I truly cherish," she said, shaking her head. "How can I not deserve it?"
Elsie pulled herself forward and wrapped her arms around the archaeologist. "Come here, you," she whispered into her friend's ear. "My lovely English muffin..."
"I don't deserve you," whispered Lara. "I'm shite."
Elsie drew back from the embrace and pressed two fingers to the brunette's lips. "Lara Croft, you are SO not 'shite'…"
"I just – "
"Shhh," breathed Elsie.
The blonde's fingers drifted to a fresh scarlet gash running the length of Lara's cheekbone. Her eyes wandered; she was so close she beheld a faint plethora of hairline scars across Lara's features, most long since healed and only barely visible in the setting sun's golden light. But far from detracting from the brunette's looks, they somehow only served to enhance them.
Jeezus...
Elsie couldn't count them all - she wondered at the story each would tell: the pain, the trials, the suffering each represented, the seemingly countless hardships of Lara's life…and yet, they came together into a living work of art.
Her friend was beyond beautiful.
"Elsie...?"
The blonde blinked; she'd been slowly trailing her fingers across Lara's features, tracing over the gossamer lines like so much dermal topography. She withdrew her hand hurriedly.
"S-sorry," she stammered.
Brown and grey eyes locked. Elsie swallowed nervously.
It was the brunette who broke the silence. "You didn't have to stop," she said softly.
Elsie could feel her cheeks flushing.
"I just…um...hey, how about some of those Jaffa Cakes, huh?"
Elsie scrambled out of the tent to ostensibly retrieve the box of treats near the campfire. Her heart was racing: she wiped her brow, stunned to see the back of her hand glistening with sweat.
God, Trainor…what the hell were you thinking...?
If she'd looked back she might have noticed the brunette's shoulders sag.
