Chapter Eleven

The Rolling Blue

I can't see the stars anymore living here,

Let's go to the hills where the outlines are clear.

Bring on the wonder, bring on the song,

I've pushed you down deep in my soul for too long.

Bring on the wonder, we got it all wrong,

We pushed you down deep in our souls for too long.

Let's rest for a while 'til our souls catch us up.

Bring on the wonder, we got it all wrong,

We pushed you down deep in our souls, so hang on.

-- Bring on the Wonder by Susan Enan

Violet sighed, snapped her new suitcase closed, and stood to glance around her room at Uncle Monty's mansion. She had returned, after leaving Olaf still strapped to his hospital bed and utterly dejected, hoping to find its rooms deserted by Olaf's treacherous henchmen. She was not disappointed: not a soul stirred in the dead man's house. She had avoided the laboratory, with its cages and dusty books; for the last few days she had only used the kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom.

Yet she was grateful for the wait. She was not sure if she had meant what she had said to Olaf, much as she wanted to believe that she would be able to simply turn her back and leave to return to her family. Violet could see in the man's eyes that something had changed when he had almost died in her arms, and she fervently hoped that the change was not only for the better but one which would be permanent. When she had visited him that first day in the hospital, she had sat beside a man who had not been only physically wounded. Olaf was not who he once was, not any longer – and although she knew that he could become a far more evil and cynical man as a result of their experience, what she had witnessed so far buoyed her hopes that her words, and his brush with death, may have helped heal his twisted soul while his flesh was torn apart.

For two days, she did not see or speak to anyone. Violet knew she had to make a choice: to stay or to go…but a thought, terribly selfish and yet so desirable, materialized: could she not bring Olaf, a danger to no one in his current state, back to the island? She had seen already what time had allowed her encouraging words to do to him – more time to appeal to his better side could only do him good. But then she thought of Klaus, Sunny, and Beatrice, who had fled with her to the island in the first place to escape Olaf, the very villain she sought to bring back to their home. What if, she thought, Olaf returns to his former self – can I risk their lives for his soul?

On the third morning, when she returned to the hospital, Olaf's doctor pulled her aside. "Miss, I know you've told me you are not this man's wife, but as no one else has visited…this patient is going to need care and supervision for at least another two weeks, but we simply do not have the space here. Is there someone you can contact to take him in?"

Violet gritted her teeth, and replied slowly, "I will take him, just…just tell me what to do."

When had finished speaking to the doctor, she crept unnoticed into Olaf's room. She had not seen him for days, and the change which she had been surprised to find then still lingered. The man on the bed was thinner than before, almost skeletal. His lightless eyes lingered on some spot on the wall opposite the room from Violet. Had she not known him, known the well of strength and angry stubbornness that lurked within his frame, she would have supposed him dead.

A single though, sinuous and sly, crept into her mind: why not, Violet Baudelaire? Why not leave him in that bed, to decay alive – for would it not be more merciful than the agony of flames to which his victims had succumbed? Here was a man who had laughed at her pain, her loss, her despair – yet through his cruel actions and self-obsession, he had brought out the good in Violet. He had forced her to see the world as it was and to fight against it, to strive to protect the ones she loved and defeat all that stood in her way.

Violet recalled that not-so-distant day when Olaf had stood over her, and laughed, and proclaimed himself the victor – told her that she had lost everything. They had now exchanged roles, and Violet had won, for Olaf would never again be – at least physically – the same energetic, wily evildoer. She had no intentions of gloating over her spoils, long-sought though they were.

Violet stepped out of the shadows in the corner by the door, and sat beside Olaf on the bed. He turned, with no little effort, to gaze at her with glazed eyes. The feeling she had been trying so hard to repress welled up in her, and this time she did not tie it back down but let it do what it would, let her risks and chances fall where they may. She took his face between her hands and pressed her lips gently to his forehead, then leaned back, watching him with worried eyes.

"Are you sent to personally torture me, Violet Baudelaire? Did the powers that be decide I deserve to be destroyed before I die, is that it?" His voice cracked, though from lack of use or emotion Violet could not tell.

"I need to apologize, Olaf. I told you that I would leave you when I was last here. Yet you need someone to care for you, and you don't have anyone else…so I'm bringing you back with me to the island. I cannot…I cannot leave you here."

Now he attempted, haltingly, to sit upright. He winced at the movement but quickly focused on Violet again. "Do not lie to me, to try and make me feel better or for whatever twisted reason you've decided upon. You would never risk your precious siblings, I know you. If you're just going to play games with me, you can-"

He wheezed and sat back, winded from speaking. Violet now reached for his hands; when he tried to avoid her grasp, she caught them and squeezed them so tightly that she had to be causing him pain – but something far more important than a moment's pain was occurring.

"Olaf, please, you have to trust me. I'm not going to let you…Olaf, you will die if no one takes care of you. I know neither of us can trust each other, but I want to trust you! I want to believe that you're a different, better man, one who won't just attempt to kill me or my loved ones the second my back is turned. I'm trying, Olaf, and I can't do this unless you do make an effort, I can't."

She angrily wiped a few tears away, pity, rage, and other emotions rising again. Olaf sat speechless, the life somewhat returned to his weakened body, his eyes shining yet again – but whether with malice or something else entirely, she could not say.

"Then, Violet, you'll have to unshackle me." He shook his hands in her tight grip, reminding her of the padded restraints that still held his stick-thin arms. And when she reached to undo the bonds, her hands also shook…because she still, to her shame, did not trust this man because it was he who had taken so much from her before, who had up until recently been the only cause of fear and anxiety in her somewhat short life. It would be so easy for him to feign weakness, appeal to her better nature, catch her unaware, and yet again slip those hands around her neck to strangle her life away.

Her hands shook, and slipped, and finally freed Olaf. And suddenly he had pulled her towards him, with that reserve of strength hidden within his fragile frame – yet before she could scream for help, he had pressed his lips to hers. And for the moment, she did not care if he was merely playing another part, fooling her with theatrical skill, or in earnest. She clung to him as she had so many days before, in her desperate attempt to stop his plan, and responded to his kiss as, instead of the tide of worry and indecision, searing heat now claimed her, intense and blinding.

Their lips parted and met again and again before each drew back for breath and, with equal wonder, met each other's eyes. How could this, whatever it was, exist between two people who hated and mistrusted each other? Violet knew she could never have kissed any man that way unless the battle had already been lost, or rather, decided. Olaf had deceived others many times, but never her; she had seen through all of his disguises, but if this was one, she almost did not care. Tired of the lies and the running and the pain, all Violet Baudelaire desired was to hear the sound of the waves breaking on the shore as she sat under the shade of a miraculously giant tree.

Olaf watched Violet and moved beyond surprise into something more. Just as their desperate kisses had affected Violet, so too had they had an impact upon him. A new feeling had blossomed, phoenix-like, out of the fragmented pieces of his dark soul. He wanted…he wanted to protect Violet, keep her from the harm with which he and others like him had tormented her in the past. If anyone deserved peace, he thought, it was this brave yet fragile woman. Olaf was shocked by this complete and utter change in himself…yet he knew that something within him had died that day on the lawn of the mansion, to be replaced with an emotion he had never in his long life experienced.

Violet kissed him again, and smiled. The smile lit her face with a warm glow that Olaf had never seen on her face – a face which had more often than not been creased with worry and sorrow when he had had cause to look upon it. Her look of happiness sent a slow, intense flame throughout Olaf, and when she helped him from the bed into a wheelchair standing beside the bed, he buried his face in her neck and whispered quietly, "Thank you, Violet."

Olaf would open his Pandora's box of guilt and self-hatred later, he knew, but for now all he wanted was to sail the rolling blue waves of the ocean back to the island where his twin lay dead and buried and his…former…enemies existed alive and well. He was going to live with the Baudelaires…he was going to stay with Violet.

---

Author's Notes

First update since October! I had a 5-hour flight delay last week and just started writing and managed to finish this chapter – which I originally thought would be longer, but I accomplished everything I wanted to in this length. Thanks for sticking with me (I will hopefully be able to finish the story by the end of the summer) and let me know what you think! Not much action in this chapter, but this was an important decision for Violet to make so I think it deserved its own chapter. Reviews are very much appreciated! Stay tuned for the next chapter!

Cheers,

Katrina