Bastian watched her, his mouth agape. Samadur had made this all sound so easy.
"And why not?!" He asked angrily.
"Because. You didn't see what I saw. You didn't live what I lived! When I first arrived on your island, the men shot a girl because she tried to run away! What if that had been me? Those thoughts haunted me for weeks. And when you took the first girl to-to… to your bed, we were all worried sick. I hate you." She suddenly said and he took a step back, "And after all of those girls you threw them away like they were nothing. Why me?" She asked and he swallowed.
"I-" He started.
"No, you don't get to talk, you bastard. How many of those girls did you hurt, did you-you taint?! And you were going to hurt me!" She began to shake and he closed his eyes, "I could never forgive you, Bastian," She spat, "Because there's not a man to forgive. You are nothing but a heartless monster."
She repackaged the food and walked off into the woods.
He watched her, hurt clear in his eyes. Sitting down he replayed her words through his head. He was a heartless monster, wasn't he?
"Oh, Bastian you're not a monster." An unfamiliar voice spoke and his head swivelled to find the source.
"I'm over here, honey."
He looked up and saw a woman. A wisp of a dress was draped over her shoulders, he couldn't tell the colour. It changed with every movement of his eyes. Her skin was a brilliant gold and her eyes were white. Her hair was a similarity to her dress in that the colour wasn't specific.
"Who are you?" He asked, keeping a watchful eye on the curious stranger.
She laughed, her voice was smokey, "Isn't it rather obvious, Bastian?" Her gold hand dipped into the fire and she drew out a large tongue of flame. Her white eyes looked up at him, the fire dancing in her mirthful eyes.
He tilted his head, "Timir-mask?"
She smiled and he had to squint his eyes, "There you go, my boy!" She said happily as she flicked her wrist, causing the flame to vanish. She waltzed over and sat next to him, her "dress" revealing her smooth legs.
He looked up at her face confused. Her white eyes changed to a cold red and her golden physiognomy hardened, "Bastian, you are no longer that person that your wife fears. You've changed."
By her words he was reminded of Hydrangea's and his chest felt weighed down once more, "Why are you here?"
She waved her hand, "Samadur didn't want to come and so I did. You look like you needed a good talk." She patted his knee.
His brow creased but he said nothing.
Again her face changed and to one of sympathy, "Bastian, you must understand that she is afraid."
"Afraid of what?" He asked.
Her shoulders sagged, "Of trusting you. She's trusted so many and it hasn't ended overly well for her. She's scared, honey. And you gotta help her to see that you've changed, that you would never do what that man did."
"But I did do what that man did. And I didn't care." He said, his voice brittling.
"But you do now. And it'll haunt you, it'll hurt, but you gotta show her you've changed." Her face brightened and he suddenly found himself on his feet, "You know one thing that old, Sovereign Bastian would never have done?"
He turned his head to the left, his questioning eyes still on her.
"He would never have invited "the flower" out on a picnic. He would never have volunteered to help her with things, and he wouldn't have cared about her tears. But honey, you've changed. You're Bastian now and she's gonna see it eventually."
His entire visage lightened, "How?"
Her visage darkened and her eyes once again shifted to red, "That I cannot tell you." Her eyes slowly changed to white and they snapped back to him, "Go to the house. I will take care of things here."
He looked out at the house beyond the meadow and saw a horse running to it, the identity of the rider to difficult to determine. He nodded at the Primal of the sun and jogged back to the house.
Upon arriving by the back door he saw that the rider was Dimitri, and in his arms was an unconscious Brigitte.
He ran to his side and took the horse's reins, "What happened?"
"She fell in the water." He answered and Bastian noticed that they were both drenched, and shivering.
"Well get her inside, Hydrangea should be in there."
Dimitri nodded and gently carried the lifeless and cold form of Brigitte into the house. Bastian brought the horse into the barn and removed its saddle and bridle. Patting its nose he said goodbye and walked back and into the house.
"You need to change into new clothes and dry your hair." He heard Hydrangea say as he walked inside.
"I'm fine." His friend said through clenched teeth which then proceeded to chatter.
"You are not, Dimitri." She said sternly as she began to remove the coat from Brigitte's shoulders as the maid sat on the kitchen chair.
"I'm not going to leave her." He answered seriously despite the shivering.
"Although I admire your ardour for her, you cannot help her if you're ill yourself." She said, crossing her arms across her chest. Her eyes drifted and took notice of him. They lingered momentarily then snapped back to Dimitri.
"Dimitri," Bastian said, "Come on, Hydrangea will take care of her."
Both gave him a look at the use of her given name. But Dimitri's shoulders sank and Bastian knew that he'd relented. Giving the maid a peck on the forehead he left the building.
Bastian's gaze lingered on Hydrangea as she attempted to move Brigitte to the bedroom.
"Please, let me help." He requested. He didn't want to see either of them hurt, and maybe she would think better of him. The thought caused a spark of hope in him. A hope that had so recently been quelled by her.
She bit her lip and glanced at the maid then at the doorway then to him, "Fine." She replied and he stepped forward to lift the maid in his arms.
With a grunt he moved his feet to move to the bedroom on the lower floor, where some of the younger children slept. He placed her on the bed and then Hydrangea ordered him to leave.
He did, and with a tired expression he climbed the ladder up to the loft. His friend was already collapsed and sleeping on the dingy and frayed red couch.
He guessed that he would just stay here for awhile. He sat down on his bed and looked out the barn window. His thoughts on what he could do.