The Alps in the summer were a glorious splash of colors. Alpine roses and yellow globe flowers and blue-tipped Gentian scattered the hillsides. The grey-and-white mass of the Mont Blanc loomed precariously over them, beckoning as all mountain-tops have beckoned through the ages, whispering tales of lofty peaks and unseen valleys far and above the travails of mankind.

They had picked Saint Gervais because of the thermal baths, and because it seemed as good a stop as any between Athens and Paris. After months in the Mediterranean, they enjoyed the change of scenery, and the languid pace of a watering-place. The grown-ups luxuriated in the warm springs. The boys enjoyed the near-by waterfall, splashing in the icy snowmelt that ran in rivers from sweating glaciers above.

They all enjoyed meeting up with Rose, on a brief break between semesters. A slighter, paler Rose, accompanied by a more subdued Cherry.

They all felt the change in the current that came with Rose's arrival. The last six months had affixed a permanent half-smile to her face – no longer the wry smile of irony, but the grimace of perspective. She had seen poverty, hunger, and agony, up close and in person. Putrid breath had been expelled on her face. She had lanced boils, and tended the wounds of those without even a passing acquaintance to water, or washing. She had closed eyes in cold faces, and brought the children of prostitutes into an inhospitable world. Scarlett alone might have recognized the look on her face as something familiar, something that had belonged to another woman who still haunted her dreams at times. Like Ellen, Rose believed her one true love lost to her forever. Like Ellen, her path to dysfunction was not excess, but self-denial. Always ethereal, there was now a real risk she would disappear entirely behind the mask of the priest, or the confessor, or the healer.

They were all too wrapped up in themselves to notice - or regret- the change.

Rhett had taken her on a walk to the mountainside the day after her arrival, displaying an unprecedented determination to confront a painful topic head-on. They chose a narrow path amongst the rocks, which led upwards for fifteen minutes, before it burst into a sun-filled hillside buzzing with insects and bloom. They stopped, as if by mutual consent, next to a group of rocks and flowers, overlooking the valleys below. Rose, who had learned the value of timing, let the silence draw out for several heart-beats.

"So," she said, finally. Had he been looking at her, he would have seen that her posture was watchful, but tranquil. "Do tell me what happened. I couldn't get much out of mother, but Charlotte has been brightening my exile with astonishing tales. Of you, and an Athenian woman."

She looked up at him again, the disconcerting glance of her girlhood sharpened by suffering. Strangely enough, she was smiling. "An Athenian woman, that you apparently …paraded about. Openly. At midday. Where you knew anyone could see you." She stopped, her brows arching delicately over the cornflower-blue eyes. "In a town the size of Athens, where the number of dark, handsome Charlestonians at that time of year is probably around …..one. Even if Charlotte hadn't seen you, it would have gotten back to mother, say - roughly five minutes after she crossed the city line. In fact – it probably did." She added, conversationally, "Out of practice for clandestine encounters, Daddy?"

He said nothing.

She picked a blue flower, and twirled it between her fingers like a sun-wheel. She didn't release him from her gaze.

"What do you want me to say," he finally answered, heavily. "That I…wanted to make her suspicious? Hoping to provoke her legendary temper, so she would finally …...communicate with me, instead of making me wait in purgatory while she made her decision?"

"Something like that, yes."

The heavy lidded eyes opened, and fell back down over the black orbs. "Consider it said, then."

"Was it someone you knew?"

"No." At her glance, he added, "Simply someone I paid a few drachmae to be effusive in public."

"I see." She shook her head at him. "You didn't sleep with her? Or even kiss her?"

"No." He sighed. "I've kissed only one woman's lips for the past eighteen years. And haven't cared for kissing any other woman's lips for roughly thirty. Which is….. exactly the problem."

"Charlotte claims to have caught you …..leaning in."

He smirked. "I was leaning in to tell the woman she didn't have to be quite so effusive. Not while we were in the shop." He caught the slight smirk on her lips, and sighed. "I don't deny that I toyed with the idea of doing more. Not because that lady held any particular charms for me, but because ….." he stopped, breathed, and restarted. "I resent how vulnerable I am. And as you correctly surmise, I could have easily gotten away with clandestine encounters, had I wanted to. But give me some credit, Rose. I know the memories of past ….misdoings is part of what haunts us now, no matter how well justified I believed myself to be at the time. While I ….apparently had no compunction about using those memories to attempt to break through our current impasse, I really had no interest in adding to them. Even if only I had ever known about it."

Orange-and-black butterflies tottered about, drunken with summer. "Have you explained it to mother? Using those words?"

He sighed. "I tried. I knew as soon as I saw Charlotte's expression that I had over-played my hand once more, and that I would have to make a clean breast of it. At least – at least to Scarlett."

"What did mother say?"

"She told me to go to fornicate with myself."

Rose grinned, looking like her old self for a moment. "The older I get, the more I appreciate her ...directness."

"Under any other circumstances, I couldn't agree with you more."

She shook her head once more, her eyes resting on bumblebees, climbing on purple clover blossoms. "Can't leave you alone for even six months before you get yourself into a rare mess again, can I, Daddy?" She gave the flower in her hand another twirl, and watched it sail to the grass. "There's no helping it. You must talk to Charlotte. You won't, I'm afraid, be able to rescue her impression of your intelligence, but you may yet salvage her impression of your honor. Yes, you will look plenty foolish, but that is the price you have to pay." She glanced at him, and noted with some satisfaction that he looked, if not thrilled, at least resigned. She added, encouragingly, "And if you can explain the intricacies of the male mind to her, you'll have a better chance of succeeding with mother."

He raised his brows. "What particular ….intricacies?"

"The intricacies that make infidelity seem more manly than fear. So you'd rather imply you committed adultery, than to admit to what you really are."

He bent his head to look at the rocks at his feet. "And that is?" She arched her brows. "Somehow, I feel sure you will tell me."

"A foolish, frightened boy in love."

He gave a short, barking laugh. Then he shrugged. "I've never enjoyed looking weak. Or desperate. And I was ...guilty, after all. Even if not quite in the way she thought."

She gave him a quick smile, and a light squeeze on the arm. "Pot, meet the kettle, Daddy. Remember my black jacket? I wore it because I hoped to infuriate Thad. So he'd finally talk to me. And we know how that turned out. But I do understand, you see. I know you held back all those years not because you were unsure of your decision, but because you were …afraid. As long as you were holding a small part of yourself out of reach, mother was always ….. moving towards you. By default. Now, you've reached standstill, and she has to decide which way to go."

"Wade is right when he says that earlier centuries would have burned you on a pyre." He knelt down, amidst the bumblebees and the clover, to retie his shoes. When he rose and spoke again, his voice was husky, and low. "It becomes harder, and not easier, Rose. I thought it would become easier. Which is why I held out for all this time. But in the end, each passing day… just added to the stakes."

She laughed. "Just stand still and wait, Daddy. It's not so hard, after a while." When he grimaced slightly, she added, "She's given you plenty of time, after all. And Ella's miscarriage was difficult for her, I think. It stirred up things. Opened wounds, that have never quite healed." When he nodded, she added, "surely you can give her some time to grieve?"

"How much time?" He dragged his large brown hand through his dark hair, the old scourge of mankind, the awareness of his own mortality, plain in his eyes. "And what's worse - how do I know she will still want me, after she's finished processing -all of my past misdeeds?"

"She's loved you steadily for over eighteen years now, Daddy. Probably longer. I'd say your odds are better than even." The gentle breeze was playing with the dark curls, and as he watched her, he forgot for a moment that she looked like Bonnie. "There will a price to pay of course, as for everything that one wants. There's always a price."

"What else is there, that I can give her?"

When she spoke, her voice was like the murmur of a spring in summer. "One more thing..."

He gave her a look. Yes. I know.

~~oo~~

The disaster struck St. Gervais-les-Bains after nightfall. There was a deafening explosion, and a rumble that shook the mountain, and the village, to its core. For roughly ten minutes, the sleepy villagers would be left to ask themselves what had just happened. An earthquake?

Then the tidal wave struck.

Only days later would the source of the disaster be traced to the eruption of a sub-terranian lake at the foot of the Tete-Rousse glacier, nestled two thirds of the way up the mountain. The water poured down a narrow gourge, trapping debris and boulders to form a crude dam, behind which the water level rose precariously.

When the dam burst, thousands of cubic feet of water emptied almost simultaneously into the valley below.

It flattened trees, flooded buildings, ripping some entirely from their foundation. The final death toll would come in at 175.

~~oo~~

It had been a quiet, almost a pleasant evening. A pianist from Genua had given a concert in the dining hall. Rose, Ella and Rhett had listened, while Chase and Charlotte whispered to each other, clearly not attending to the music. Scarlett drummed the table with her fingers from time to time, as if punctuating something in her mind. They had eaten crayfish, and small, round potatoes boiled in salt water, with herbs and a spicy white sauce.

They had talked after the concert, but with both Rhett and Scarlett unlike themselves, the conversation never quite took off. Rose talked to Ella and Charlotte about Scotland. Chase, who was sleepy, tried not to doze. Eventually, they decided to bring the evening to an end.

After checking on the boys, who slept with Cherry and Miss Addy, Scarlett sat the dressing table of her hotel room. She wore the same absent-minded expression that she'd been wearing for months. Rhett, who had adopted an attitude of suave courtesy in face of her indifference, merely asked her if she had everything she needed.

"I wish you'd talk to me," he said, suddenly. "Perhaps I could ..."

She looked at him, but her eyes were far away. He sighed, and gave up, sliding under the covers. Eventually, they both fell into a restless sleep. Moonlight filtered gently through the curtains, serenely looking down on the calamity about to unfold below.

There was a thundering boom - that shook the sky, and the mountain, and the village. At the deafening noise, Scarlett and Rhett both shot up from their covers.

"What was that," Scarlett asked, her mind still fogged with sleep. Siege cannons echoed in her mind, and even half-asleep, her body was braced for war.

"I'm not sure." He listened intently into the silence. This was not the cordial, slightly uncertain Rhett of the last few weeks. This was a lean, dark, stranger, whose ears seemed to be picking up on sounds beyond the range of human hearing. Even while he listened, his quick, competent hands had lit several candles on the nightstand.

"What…."

"Shhhhh", he said. He was still listening into the night.

Then Scarlett heard it too. A different sound. Like many rivers flowing towards them, increasing in speed, tearing down everything it their path.

"Water," he said. The word fell to the ground like stone.

"What?" she said. And then she blanched, her pallor swallowed by the darkness.

"Water from the glacier. Or something most uncomfortably like it. A lot of water. Coming this way." His hand reached for her shoulder, shaking her out of her trance. "Grab the boys. And Rose and the others. And run up the stairs, as far as you can go."

Only a heartbeat passed before her battle-worn mind comprehended his words.

"Ella!" She screamed, struggling to free herself. Ella and Chase were housed on the floor below.

"Scarlett." He shook her again. "We don't know how far the water levels will rise. Pray that the structure holds. Take the girls and the children, and go up, as far as you can. I will look for Ella."

She stared at him with uncomprehending eyes, but finally nodded. "Good girl", he breathed. His large hand lingered on her face for a moment, tracing it, as if to imprint it in his memory. He made a move as if to kiss her - as he had kissed her long ago, before going off to a war. But he did not. Then he straightened, more aware than even she could be of the urgency of the situation. "I….." He swallowed, and grabbed one of the candles. "Now go."

The halo of the candle faded as he disappeared in the direction of the stairs. There was something like a sob caught in her chest, mingled in with the panic and the fear.

She shook Dan and Gerry, who had slept soundly through the disaster. She grabbed blankets, and stepped into the hallway, almost colliding with Rose, Charlotte and Cherry.

"What happened? What is that ...noise?" There was concern in Rose's voice, but no panic. Miss Addy came out of an adjourning room, her grey hair floating about her shoulders like a halo. "Oh dear," she said, to no one in particular.

"Water," Scarlett said, succinctly. "Help me get Dan and Gerry to the top floor. Rhett says wait there."

"How ….."

"We don't know. Rhett said something about glacier water. Coming down the mountain." The roar had increased in ferocity, like many thousand nightmares coming to descend upon them. Increasingly high- pitched wails started to fill the air.

People drowning, said Rose's eyes. Aloud, she said swiftly, "Chase and Ella…."

I know, said Scarlett's. "Rhett's gone to look for them."

The women stared at each other. Then, almost at the same moment, they started moving. There were children to protect, and they would not break down now.

With swift efficacy, they shepherded the sleepy, but unusually docile boys to the fourth floor, the top floor of the hotel. Scarlett brought candles, Rose, Charlotte and Cherry carried blankets. Miss Addy held the boy's hands.

Along with twenty other people, they huddled in one of the top floor rooms that were apparently in a state of renovation, but usable. Scarlett built a nest for the boys out of the blankets and duvet covers. Both Dan and Gerry were silent, the survival instinct of little creatures telling them to lay as quietly as possible, while the world about them raged out of control. Their governess sat beside them, permitting herself to shiver uncontrollably, now that the time for action had passed. "Oh dear," she exclaimed, in random intervals. No one paid her any heed.

There were still screams from below, louder, and more frequent. The roaring sound was upon them, drowning out the entire world.

Several more figures stumbled into the candlelight.

"Mother."

Scarlett felt the blood rush from her head. . "Ella," she said, faintly. She wanted to get up, but her legs felt too weak to stand. She didn't know why she had been so sure she was dead.

"Chase is here, too" How could her silly Ella sound so eerily calm? When the rest of the world was so loud?

"Where's Rhett?" Scarlett asked, in sudden dread.

Ella sat down next to her, sliding her arms around her shoulders. Her wet night-shirt clung to her narrow frame. "The water level is rising, and we don't know when it will crest. People are trapped. He's still downstairs. To …...help."

Scarlett shuddered. "How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad, from the looks of it." Ella said, still with that strange, unnatural singsong. "The water was at hip level on our floor when we got out, so I can only imagine what it did to those below us. And it's still dark, so …"

She didn't need to finish her thought. Rescue efforts would be difficult enough in daylight, never mind under those circumstances.

"You're shivering," Scarlett said, her mind latching onto the only practical matter before her that she could do something about.

"It was cold."

"Take those wet clothes off. And wrap yourself in those blankets. Chase, too." At Ella's hesitancy, Scarlett said, briskly, "no one will see you. And if they do, it's the least of our worries, right now…."

But she dimmed the candlelight, and turned away, so they could change with what little privacy the room offered. Ella wrapped herself in a warm blanket, Chase making sure she was comfortable before he changed, as well.

Scarlett looked about, like a general surveying her troops. Her moment of weakness had passed. They were all safe, and dry. For now. She pulled on Gerry's blanket, to tuck it tighter around his neck. She would not allow herself to think about Rhett.

Rose, leaning against a wall, made a strange noise.

Scarlett moved over to her. "Honey."

Rose grabbed her hand. "Mother. If I drown, he'll never..." She was a girl again, briefly, the serene mask washed away by the flood. "If I drown, but you don't, tell him…"

"I know," Scarlett said, swiftly. "Don't think about that. We'll all pull through. I've survived much worse! Did I...did I ever tell you about the night Atlanta fell?"

And as the roaring died down, and the screams with it, the entire, silent room listened to her tale of horror, and survival. It seemed to fit seamlessly into this night.

Yes, I admit, I was a bit obtuse. The only clues were the time-frame (too soon to be that intimate with someone) and the timing (our suave and experienced Rhett would have done a much better job at hiding, were he really merely testing the waters). But I'm not even all that sorry, for who would have thought Rhett's caddish behaviour would provoked such a spirited discussion, and brought so many thoughtful, articulate lurkers out of lurk-dom? Stop by more often- you have so much to say! I always thought Rhett was so annoyingly open about Belle in part because he wanted to assert his indifference, and in part because he wanted to provoke her jealousy – and perhaps get her to admit she cared. I think in times of stress he might fall back into old, dysfunctional patterns, if not, hopefully, quite as dysfunctional as before.

Yes, indeed- the mountain/glacier is part metaphor, and part catalyst. A lot of things need to break up.