The Midnight Princess

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The Midnight Princess The sound of laughter and raised voices were what first roused me. I was basking in my usual place on the little protruding ledge of the agetumbled boulder in the shallows that I'd carefully smoothed and enlarged to catch the morning sun. I turned my head, yawned, and peered over my folded arms at the little arc of shoreline where the locals had brought white sand from the Ligurian Sea near Genoa and poured it into the lake to form a beautiful artificial beach. A group of young people were in the water; two men and three women, all in bathing costumes, though truthfully only charitably so in the case of the girls. The boys were showing off, chasing one another and pretending to wrestle while two of the girls screamed and laughed and egged them on. The third stood aside, watching the others with a wry smile. The deep maroon bottom of her two piece bathing suit kissed the water, her nightblack hair clung to her tanned olive skin in delightful, messy skeins. She shook her head, laughing loudly as one of the men tripped the other before losing his own footing and falling with an undignified splash. Then, still grinning, she turned and took a few careful steps out from the shallows before arching forward, letting her momentum carry her out into the deep sapphire stillness of the lake. I smiled sleepily. She was by far the most beautiful of the three. Oh, the others were nice, of course - a blonde and a brunette, both slender and tanned and with the willowy grace of youth, their breasts barelyrestrained behind flimsy excuses of fabric. Both were walking, breathing serenades to Aphrodite. But Midnight's daughter was the prize of the three, and I could already tell that I would adore her. I yawned, pulled my legs up against me, and sat up, squinting under Helios's amused, golden stare. I scratched at an itch just below my right breast and yawned again, then slowly reached out to trail my fingers through the cool, placid water.

It was warm today; calm and still, the mountains around me floating inverted on the crystal surface of Lake Iseo. Ripples spread outward over the mirror's face as the girl swam out from shore. She reached the Six Sisters - six glacier-fetched rocks that stood in an unlikely group on the lake floor almost within hands reach of me; two were tall enough to jut clear of the water. She climbed the gentler of the two and stood there for a moment, breathing. Then she bent forward and shook the water from her hair. I could see the depths had chilled her because her nipples showed through the wet sheath of her swimsuit top and goosebumps dappled her flanks and shoulders. She raised her arms carelessly behind her neck and gathered her shadowy hair behind her, heedless of the spectacle, revelling in her freedom and grinning at everything. "Dani! Daniella!" called her friends. "Come back to us, we're lonely!" She laughed and waved at them, and I gazed in naked, envious admiration and desire at the sun-bronzed curves of her perfect body. What a delightful creature she was. "Daniella," I whispered. I liked her name. It suited this lovely child of latter days. I stood and stretched upwards towards the zenith, then bent forward to touch my toes. She'd caught the movement and turned; she stared at me over the narrow stretch of water as I straightened. Her eyes had widened; she was no doubt surprised by my partial nudity. After all, all I was wearing was a pale, translucent linen skirt for modesty and nothing else, and even the skirt showed more than it hid. My small breasts jutted from my slender body, my nipples neat and proud under the kiss of wind and the brief delight of her gaze. I smiled hesitantly at her. She fought some sort of brief, internal battle before she smiled back and gave me an amused shake of her head that set her glorious ringlets dancing about her face. Then she turned and dove back into the water. One of the six sisters jutted out further than people expected, I hoped she'd been careful... and then sighed, relieved. She had been. She broke the surface and began

to swim a graceful, competent stroke back to where her friends were still cavorting and gaming in the turquoise shallows. She reached them and put her feet down, then turned back once more to give me a long, direct stare. I raised my hand and shyly waved to her, cautious of giving offence and closing this brief, unexpected moment of pleasure on a sour note. And she seemed to pause a moment; then she grinned and waved back. Ripples from her dive and swim had spread out over the lake; they kissed gently against my sun trap in passing. "Who is that?" I heard the brunette ask her, the sound of her breathless curiosity travelling clearly over the water. "A... woman. I don't know her," Midnight's daughter answered. "She's absolutely gorgeous, though - that blonde hair! Those legs! And she's very brave to be sunning herself like that around here with... so little on..." "Mm. Blonde, brave and confident - definitely your type, Dani," the brunette agreed with a giggle. Daniella laughed and elbowed her. My interest was immediately piqued. Could it be... The men had both turned to stare my way. Both were grinning, one waved at me; the blonde slapped his rump and laughed as he squealed. I turned away and self-consciously ran my fingers through my waterfall of pale hair. It was a long time since someone had called me beautiful. So long, in fact, that the word had almost lost its meaning. I'd resigned myself to my shrinking solitude, to my isolation, to my boundaries, to this slow procession of the years that would eventually close my final chapter. I could feel the blush on my cheeks - another sensation that I'd almost forgotten. I knelt back down in the warm concave hollow that trapped the warmth at this time of the day, then settled onto my belly and let Helios's smile caress my back and thighs.

But my busy, wakened mind couldn't let go of her. And so I watched in envy from afar as she and her friends lounged and sunbathed and simply spent their time with one another in the happy bliss of companionship, and I listened to their distant conversation, eavesdropping hungrily on the discussion of their jobs and their lives and their love lives or lack thereof and their relationships and all the other little minutiae of their busy, bright, rich days. Daniella was back from University in Bologna - here for the summer warmth and her family. Her friends had been elsewhere - the Diaspora, as the blonde laughingly called it. They'd all found work of sorts for the time they were back; Daniella was tending a wine bar at an upmarket if pretentious waterfront complex in Iseo on the south east shore. I knew it well; more built up than most of the rest of the lakeside, with bright lights and a little piazza where well-dressed couples would idle and stare out at the lights that glittered on the deep, purple-black water. Tonight would be her third night there, and so far, she said, it had been quiet. Boring, she called it. Dull. Devoid of any entertainment or even a pretty girl to admire. I caught the wistful glance she sent my way; the others teased her and threatened to come and pester her. And I bit my lip, intrigued, while she laughed and protested and threatened them with grave physical harm in return. She had a lovely laugh. I closed my eyes, listening to it; she laughed freely and often. I liked that. I missed laughter. And smiles, and warm embraces and gentle caresses... She returned to the waters again before the group packed up and left. She had a clear reverence to her movements - her steps, her swimming, the way she held her body all sang. She loved it here. She loved the lake and the valley. The shadows and names of this place were written on her soul. Her brief, sun-kissed presence had thawed my long, unwanted winter. My mind was alive with desire, my heart panging bitterly for all the things I'd long considered better forgotten.

I waited until the group had squeezed into their rusty white Fiat and driven off, then stretched and rose from my little nook in the living rock. Helios had turned his gaze to the slopes to the west. I stared across the placid indigo waters that stretched before me. And then I made my way carefully through the shallows and up the small slope to my home in the cave above the shore. I glanced at my little shelf of gifted or found books; my rounded pebble floor, my table and my simple bed. I opened the weathered whitewashed shutters that gentle, near-sighted old Valentino had carved and joined and fitted for me in the slow, simpler years before the Great War. I trailed a finger over the rough stones of the wall that screened and sheltered my cave, whose interior was lit (these days, anyway) by a single small oil lantern in a niche that I'd lined with recovered coins gently-polished Sestertii and Aureii that glowed gold and silver in the lamp's steady flame. And outside - my two olive trees, my pregnant grapevines; my higgledypiggledy neriums and - towering over all - the tall, stately descendant of one of the sacred Etruscan pines that I'd carried down from the crown of Monte Isola and planted in this spot, those many, many years ago. My sanctum. I touched my copy of Ovid's Metamorphoses, the green leather cover was now worn and tattered from age; it was my second-most-precious possession and I'd loved it since I'd found it left behind on a rock. The young couple who'd been reading from it in the early forties had found better uses for their time, and had forgotten it when they at length departed. I glanced at my heart-stone, nestled as always on my carefully-turneddown pillow. And then I stalked back outside, and sat on the small stone dais I'd built in slow, measured stages. It gave me a panoramic view of the sapphire waters below me, and had given me something to do. Across the water lay the town of Iseo. Full of people - young and old, man and woman - all busy with their pretty little lives that blossomed and faded like the blossoms on my neriums...

It had been an age since I'd had reason to go there. Watching people was entertaining, but my interest would pall soon enough, and melancholy would always return. So, often I found it less painful to simply avoid that which was no longer mine. But now, there was a woman that I desired enough to venture out once more. Daniella. I closed my eyes, summoned a vision of her tall, graceful legs, her long, strong arms. The dark hair, the ringlets, the rich hazel-brown of her eyes. The way water had beaded on to her skin. The way her costume had clung to her, leaving so little for my imagination to do to render her naked for me. In my mind, she smiled at me, and took my hand, and loved me... "Daniella," I said again, as I spoke her name, tasting it on the cool evening air. A beautiful name. A beautiful woman. Tall and dark, my very favourite kind. And, perhaps in her, I might find someone who could grow to like me. A friend. Perhaps, if I were exceptionally fortunate, a lover. It had been many, many years since I'd been blessed enough to have either. The evening breeze began to fall from the heights behind me; stirring the waters and shaking the boughs of the towering pine. The leaves of my shrubs danced, the bunches of ripening grapes swung gently. Boats crossed the lake and made for their berths, their lights glowing like little gems on the deepening blue velvet. The glow of the moon's face built behind the southern mountains. The Great mother, Selene, following Helios across the heavens, cycle after endless cycle. I bowed my head and raised my arms high in praise to her as she crested the southern hills. I felt her gentle touch on my skin.

My skin flashed pale, my hair from gold to silver; a moment's kiss and embrace. And then her touch faded, and I diminished once more. The winds ebbed; the waters calmed. A breath, a second... and I turned, decisive. I had a woman that I desperately needed to see again. 🙙🝢🙛 I clothed myself in a thin tunic of pale linen, embroidered with a geometric pattern of bright blue thread around the neck and hem. For a moment I imagined Ariadne, daughter of mighty Minos, wearing such a dress when she first saw Theseus at Knossos... I grimaced. It was not the most auspicious story; Theseus had abandoned Ariadne, after all. But the tunic was pretty - an ancient style that never went out of style for me - still fetching because it was perfectly shaped to my form; it flowed in and out with the slender liquid curves of my body, it showed enough of my breasts to be interesting without becoming overt, and let the air breathe through it and over the smooth curves of my body beneath it. I glanced down at my feet and thought for a moment. I should probably wear sandals. And earrings, perhaps, though the gold I sometimes favoured might be too garish for tonight. Silver, then. Silver for Selene, silver for the night, for magic and luck, above all else, for lovers. Because though we were not lovers, still I hoped. I hoped for a touch, a kiss, a whisper of affection - anything to let me know that I could still be wanted. Oh, I hoped. And so it was, clothed and girded, that I stepped deliberately from the gentle pools of light that bathed the Piazza del Lago and climbed the time-smoothed stairs to the door of the wine bar that some poor, uneducated, unimaginative lout had named "Chianti".

I rolled my eyes at that. Chianti. The cheek. Chianti was from Tuscany; they could have named it Valtellina - that was at least a Lombardia wine... Then I laughed at myself. Pedantry came naturally to me; I knew that I was jaded. I paused in the doorway and took in the scene. It seemed to be a nice enough place - shining, smooth expanses of wood and glass, glittering lights like suspended stars, candles on the intimate little tables, a smooth, stone floor. Warm but quiet, made for privacy... Daniella was behind the counter, but beside her was a man in a nice shirt who was clearly in charge. Oh well. So much for getting her alone. I'd just have to be patient. And perhaps a little devious, though it didn't come naturally to me. But I was gratified by the way she paused and turned to face me, and the quiet little "wow" she mouthed as she forgot herself. I approached them, and smiled warmly at her, then tucked my hair back behind my ears and waited expectantly. "Good evening, Signora," the man said. "What can I get you to drink?" "A glass of wine, please. Red; from Villa Elisa if you have it." "Of course, Signora," he answered. Daniella tried to sneak a glance at me, looked quickly away when she caught my smile, then snuck a second, longer look. I winked at her; she flushed and found something that she could pretend to be busy with. I liked the way her white cotton shirt hugged her, revealing nothing but loudly hinting at many things. I liked the way she'd left her hair unbound so it would avalanche down over her shoulders. I liked the subtle shade of coral-tinted lipstick, the sun-tanned olive of her skin, the warmth of her eyes... And I liked that she was a princess and not a stuck-up, haughty, holierthan-thou queen. "Your wine," said the man. "Thank you."

I paid with a crumpled ten euro note that I'd found on the bank the day before. I nudged the coins from my change back towards him, I'd watched enough people to know that this was appreciated. "Hey, thank you," he said, smiling. "But that wasn't necessary." "It is nothing," I demurred. "Thank you for the wine." I retreated to the long wooden counter that lined the windows and slipped onto one of the elegant stools that waited there. I stared out into the night, tracing the movements of distant boats. Then I closed my eyes, and let the aroma of the vineyards rise from the wine and surround me. I was intimately familiar with the sunny banks where these vines grew, down where the river flowed between the arms of the valley and out into the lake... I inhaled; smelled the springs of prior years, the bitter winters, the floods... and twining through all of it the sunlight that had showered down on us, and the goodness of the land that surrounded the waters in this cradle within the mountains. I sipped my wine, my toes curled with barely-suppressed pleasure. It was a good year, this year that the winemaker had bottled and set aside for me to find tonight. I blessed him and hoped he would live a long and joyous life, surrounded by the people he loved. And I sighed softly at the inherent bittersweetness of that blessing. I tried to set my loneliness aside and focus on the pure liquid pleasure that was my glass of wine. It was the simple pleasures, I found. The simple things kept me going. I was blessed that this was my space. That so little had changed over the millennia. If I looked out over the waters, I could (dimly) see the rocks where Tanaquil had first bathed in me, and where we'd - some years later- first made love, and where I'd - years later still - held her hand and sobbed as I watched her slip away. And there, above us, the sacred ridge line where the Etruscans had buried their kings and queens... it still stood in plain sight, undisturbed by modern archaeologists, cutting a dark, mournful slash in the deep purple night sky. The ancient breakwater sang a soft song of loss as waves lapped over it; it was overlooked by

everyone now. I could still remember the way the mists kissed the water when the priests of Sun and Moon had launched their boats from the shore behind it and crossed to the holy island to worship their PreHellenic Pantheon in the crowning grove of sacred pines whose greatgreat-great-great-to-infinity-grandchildren still dappled the slopes below... I raised my glass to my lips again and hesitated... "You have such a pretty smile," Daniella said. I gasped and somehow managed not to spill wine on myself or the counter. "Oh!" she said, appalled. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" "Oh, no, don't be silly, it's fine," I answered. I laughed. "I was just... remembering something and not paying attention. Goodness, you walk very quietly for such a tall girl. Hi," I said, turning towards her and smiling upwards, delighted that she'd come to me. "I'm Isea." "I'm... Daniella," she said "Didn't I see you? Earlier today? Was that you, sunbathing, on the rocks near Il Corno?" "Yes," I said. "I saw you. You wore a maroon bathing suit, and you swam out to the Six Sisters. We waved at one another." "It was you!" she said. "Oh, perfect. I was nearly certain... but... well, I wasn't sure." She glanced around; the bar was quiet. There was only one other customer - an old man who was nursing his wine while he read a book in the corner. "Busy night?" I asked, keeping my face carefully neutral. "Can't you see? I am run off my feet," she said, lips curling, irony dripping from her words. "I'm not sure how I'll survive." I laughed softly. I really, really liked her "So.... are you just visiting the valley?" she said. "Me? Oh, no. I live here." "Really? In Iseo?" she said, surprised.

"Sort of..." "Oh, amazing. So do I." She smiled and leaned in. "I took you for one of the stuck up, snooty ones from Milan," she continued, conspiratorially. "You know - the Fashion Victims. It's that dress. It is beautiful, and it looks far, far too grand for this place. Well... so do you, to be honest." "No. No. I'm from here. Very definitely from here," I said, warm from the flattery. "Milan. Hah. I'm sure it's nice. But... to be away from the lake? Impossible!" "I know," she confessed. "I love it here. It's like living in paradise. I study in Bologna; I can never wait to come back home." "Good," I said, pleased. "It is good to love your roots. Where we come from has... importance." "Mm." She turned, and slid onto the seat beside me, leaning back against the counter and angling herself in towards me. The man behind the bar snorted and rolled his eyes at her. She flicked her chin at him; he laughed and turned away. "Idiot," she said. "My cousin, Giovanni," she added. I eyed him for a moment. There was not much resemblance. But he hadn't complained about her coming to talk to me. So clearly he was nice enough. "Mm," I said, dismissing him. "You're far prettier than he is." She laughed again, then leaned nearer still. "So... Isea," she said, softer now. "I have a question that I've been absolutely dying to ask you." "You may ask it." "Do you usually sunbathe topless like that?" she said, eyes sparkling. "Oh, is that all? No."

I smirked. "No?" "No. Usually I wear nothing at all," I said, enjoying myself with the direct answer to her likewise direct question. Her eyes widened; she laughed uncertainly. "Nothing? Really? Here? I'm surprised you haven't been assaulted and dragged to a convent by angry grandmothers." "It's amazing what you can get away with if you're discrete about... where you do it. And who sees you," I added, lowering my voice. Her eyes flickered downwards along my body to the curve of my breasts, then back to my face. "Really?" she repeated, softly. "Mhmm. I know a place where very few people go." I sipped my wine and smiled at her, letting my eyes widen ever-soslightly... She shivered, took a breath... The door opened. An older couple walked into the wine bar, the woman in a long, elegant blue gown and the man in a nice, well-cut suit. Giovanni straightened behind the counter, and Daniella shifted beside me. "Oh, Dio santo, of course it would happen right now," she sighed. "Oh well. Time to work. Sorry." "See you later," I breathed, and I gently touched her hand. "I... really hope so," she answered. She gave me one more lingering glance and a wistful smile before she stood. She loped back to the counter and began to help her cousin take the couple's complicated and meandering order. I slid off the stool and carried my glass outside. I walked carefully across the Piazza to the stone wall that still showed the masons marks if you knew where to look. I leaned on the modern railing and savoured my wine as the stars rotated above me. And I daydreamed of the warmth and open curiosity in Daniella's eyes.

She was still busy with customers when I returned; our eyes met as I returned the glass to the counter top. "Ciao, gorgeous," I mouthed. She flushed and looked away. But the pleased little smile that she couldn't quite hide said everything I so desperately needed to hear. 🙙🝢🙛 Dawn. I stirred on my bed, yawned, stretched my legs and pointed my toes. A whiff of mist on the air beyond the scent of the Rosemary sprig on my little night stand. Mist at dawn. It would be hot today. I wondered if Daniella and her friends would come to the water again; I hoped they would. She'd seemed... wonderfully intense around me. I wondered if I was reading the signs right. I hoped I was. I could imagine few things better than seeing her again... Well... a few things would be better, I thought to myself. If I were completely honest; kissing, touching, making love... all of them would be miles better than simply seeing her. But seeing her would be delightful enough to tide me over. It was so long since I'd had someone to look forward to simply seeing. I arched backwards, jaw creaking, whimpering softly. Then I flowed to my feet and shuffled sleepily to the entrance of my home. I squinted out into the wafting tendrils of morning fog and scratched absent-mindedly at my thigh. It was going to be a gorgeous day. I dawdled out into the cool air and claimed a few cloud-kissed grapes from my vines, more from long habit than any strict need for them. From there I sauntered down the gentle grassy slope to the shore and stood there with my toes in the water, the grape juice still sweet on my tongue. I thought about how to spend my morning. And then I smiled. I would go swimming, of course.

So I thought for a moment, and remembered, and the translucent chemise I'd worn to bed shimmered and flowed and became a deep blue one-piece of the sort I'd seen a woman wearing on the deck of an enormous boat the prior summer. I calmed a circle of my surface so that I could stare down at my reflection. I was still beautiful. Even now. I prayed she'd like me like this. I began to make my way slowly along the shore, staring at the stones and the ripple-drawn whorls of sand, feeling the awareness of these parts of my domain grow and ebb as I moved over them. And as slow, mighty Helios climbed above the eastern horizon, the last of the haze burned away and my waters flamed blue. I bowed my head to him - no raised arms, no homage, no fealty though, not even for the sun. That devotion I gave to my mother Selene alone. The morning breeze waxed, then waned again. The blue vault of the heavens was mirrored once more on the surface of the lake, bisected in places by the ever-present watercraft that skittered hither and thither. I reached the man-made beach and stepped out slowly through the gently lapping wavelets at its edge. Footprints of men, women and children were everywhere. The locals loved to swim in this place. They loved it here. I smiled, pleased. Then I turned and walked out into the water, stopping when the interface kissed my navel. A school of perch came to greet me before dispersing again; a gull dipped his wings and sang his mournful salute before easing off towards the town in hopes of stealing something more filling than an immature fish. I stood, closed my eyes in bliss, and let the sunlight fall on my face as I waited. I ran my fingers gently over the surface; I could be patient as the mountains if needed. But it took only an hour, or at most two, before the rusty white Fiat bounced and whined its way down the rough track to the clearing in the scrub. Only one of the men was present, this time, but the two other woman and the woman I adored had all come too.

They emerged through the low waterside bushes, following the sandy path, laughing breathlessly at one another. And Daniella, leading them all, stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me. The blonde bumped into her. "Daniella? What is it?" she asked; then she peered around her friend and saw me. "Oh!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening. She shared a knowing smile with the brunette, while the lone man just stared at me as if struck dumb. I left the water and advanced to them, but I had eyes only for Midnight's daughter. She flushed, shifted, fiddled with her hair and the hem of her shirt. "Hello... Dani," I said, softly, when I stopped within an arm's reach of her. "Hello," she squeaked. Her friends shared amused glances; the blonde gave me a warm, approving grin. "Marco," she said. "Bettina. Come on - andiamo. We'll be over there, Dani," she told her friend, and Daniella nodded abruptly. She seemed about to say something more; but the others simply eased past us, clearly abandoning her to me. Her foot shuffled in the sand, and I realised just how nervous she was. "I wondered if you would be here today," I said softly, taking pity on her and saving her from the burden of being first to speak. "We're here every day in summer," she answered, as if on automatic. Her friends splashed down into the water behind us and started talking softly, laughing - obviously at us. Daniella took a deep breath. "What is this, Isea?" she said. "Why are you here?" "You... intrigued me," I answered. "And... I live in the moment. I took a chance. I hoped you would come, and I'm so glad to see that you did."

She sighed. "So. Now I'm here. Now you've ensnared me," she added, wryly. "Ensnared?" I protested. "Me?" "Yes, you! My friends are never going to let me live down the day the gorgeous Milanese blonde in the designer swimsuit that costs more than a small car walked up out of the waters of lake Iseo purely to speak to me." I stared at her. "But I'm not Milanese," I protested, amused. "Yes, but they don't know that!" she said. She tucked her hair back out of her face and shifted closer; high colour had coloured her cheeks. "My God, Isea. You... you could have stepped from the pages of Grazia or Vogue. Unbelievable. You are incredible. I should feel flattered, I suppose, that you find me interesting enough to wait here for me." I turned partly away; I was thoroughly pleased by her reaction. "And so you flatter me in return, and so early in the day?" I teased her. "It seems that it's my fate, yes." Her eyes were bright; her cheeks pink... "Mm. I'll be gentle, then. So," I added, "now you have a choice - either you have to introduce me to your friends, or you have to come and swim with me." "That's an easy choice - I will swim with you," she answered. She smiled. "It will drive them crazy to have to wait for me." "I like that choice," I breathed; her flush deepened. I walked out into the water; she stripped off her tee shirt and dropped it on the sand. The maroon bikini top was even better up close, lifting and cupping her small but perfectly-shaped breasts as if presenting them to me. And the bikini bottom was really nothing more than an an abbreviated triangle of dark cloth that clung to and barely obscured the sublime curves of her mons and lips. I looked away, forced myself to behave when almost all I could think of was how much I wanted to touch her, part her... taste her...

A soft sigh, a desperate reach for patience, and a forceful attempt to ignore the sudden heat between my legs. So I stood and waited, hiding my frustration, as her friends called questions and she answered them. Various gestures were made back and forth. Their clear affection for one another pleased me and spoke well of all of them as people. At last she turned away; she shook her head and gave me a rueful grin. "Sorry," she said. "The children needed calming." I shrugged, amused, then walked out into the waters. I lowered myself into the lake and pretended to gently paddle towards the Six Sisters, some forty metres out across an out-thrust arm of the deep-blue depths. Daniella joined me, her powerful freestyle throwing up waves around us. But I cheated, reached the rocks before her, and stepped up onto them with little effort while she clung to one and stared upwards at me. "How did you do that?" she demanded. "It... you looked like you just... walked up there!" "Years of practice," I said. "And I know all the footholds. Here." I reached down and took her hand, then helped her up beside me. "You are so strange," she said. "You are stronger than you look." She shot me an admiring glance. "And you're an excellent swimmer, though you'd never know for looking at you. Strong, fast, beautiful... what else are you?" "I am many things," I said, adopting a mysterious tone - she snorted. Then she stretched; I watched in delight as droplets of water ran down her arms and over the exposed skin of her flanks and back. She lowered herself to the rock; I followed her and sat, close to her but not touching, not yet. I ran my hands through my wet hair and cast it out over my shoulders, and smiled back at her own, uncertain smile. "So," I said. She shivered as I put my hand on her leg, but made no effort to remove it as I curled the fingers over and spaced them along her warm thigh. "So," she said, her voice trembling. "Um... what... what happens now?"

"Now... I seduce you," I whispered. Her eyes widened slightly. "What?" "Now I seduce you," I repeated. I moved my fingers slowly on her damp, smooth skin. "I whisper gentle words into your ears, and worship you with my eyes and my voice. Your stubborn, cautious heart melts bit by bit and soon... soon, you will take my hand and hold it. We will both smile shyly at one another. My cheeks will flush, yours will burn. You will tell me a secret, I will tell you one in return. Perhaps we'll kiss, perhaps not - I'll leave that up to you, this time. Then we'll swim back to your friends, who will be besides themselves with curiosity as to what we've been doing and why I'm holding your hand. Tonight I will come to your place of work, and I will flirt with you some more, but much more intently and intensely; I will be staking my claim, you see - I will be making my desire and intent towards you... known. You will take a sip of my wine, and tell me I'm the prettiest woman you've ever seen. I will touch you, you will, I hope, touch me in return." I took a breath, listened to her own soft, shivery breathing. "And that, Daniella," I said, mournfully, "is the point at which I will begin to lose my heart to you forever." She stared at me, mouth slightly open. She took a deep, slow breath. "Is... is that how you usually get your way with women?" she managed. "Spinning those silvery webs of honeyed words?" She was amused. But also, I knew, disturbed and excited by how much what I'd just said had... aroused her. I could tell I had pleased her, from the increase in her heart rate to the way she'd first clenched her thighs tightly together and then pressed one outwards against mine. I shivered. I wanted her more than I could ever remember wanting any other girl. I moved my hand slowly up towards her crotch, but withdrew it before I reached it; she made a soft noise of regret. I released her leg and shifted, raising a knee so that I could lean my head on it. My hair trailed into the water and I closed my eyes. She shuddered once. Her nipples were hard under the soaking fabric of her swimsuit top, her pupils dilated. Arousal was always delightful and easy to see. I knew she was wet. Perhaps even as wet as I was.

"I like you," I whispered. "You're beautiful and you have a beautiful smile. And... you seem... well, you seem like me." "Like... you?" she said, voice shaking. "You know what I mean. You like women. You like them like I do. To love. To... make love to. To... hold. To treasure." "How... how did you know?" she breathed. "We'd never met before yesterday. What gave me away to you like this? I try so hard to... hide it." "It wasn't you. It was your friend. The brunette one, yesterday. Bettina? She called me your type. That was what gave you away. She needs to be more... careful... with your secrets." "You have phenomenally good ears," she said, after a breath or two. "And Bettina is impossible. She could never keep a secret, she must tell the world or she will burst. She doesn't have a wicked bone in her body, though, and sometimes she forgets the rest of the world is... not like her." "Water carries the sound well," I said. "Nobody else but your friends would have heard. So... was she right?" "Yes," she said. She met my gaze for a moment, then shrugged. "She was right. I like women. To love and to make love to; to hold and to treasure. But... it's not something that I'd like to advertise to others. Not everyone is... kind." Her answer was soft and secretive. I lowered my voice as well. "I keep many of my own secrets. I don't give them up easily. And I am very... discreet." She stared at me for several breaths, then sighed. "Isea... what do you want? From me, I mean? I am only here for summer. I study in Bologna. I will return there in August. I must. I... I cannot offer very much to someone like you. Not that I'm not delighted and flattered that you want me! Please, don't... don't take this the wrong way. But... I would never be anything but something nice for summer. No matter what I might want to be," she added, softly. "Perhaps that's all I want," I answered. "Someone... nice... for summer." "You're lying. I can tell."

"Yes, I am, a bit. But... something nice for summer would still be lovely, even if there was nothing else to... hope for. Women like you are rare, Dani. Women as beautiful as you are rarer still. And even rarer still are those who smile at me like you do. So... I hope. Silly, perhaps... but then, that's just how it is, sometimes, isn't it?" "You shouldn't hope, Isea," she whispered. "You shouldn't. Hope is unfair, hope makes us liars to ourselves. You are stunning, and gentle, and I... I like you. A lot. You're right - it is silly, but it's true. Your smile... it warmed me. Nobody ever smiles at me like that. So... you won me over right then - the moment I saw you." "The moment you saw my breasts, you mean?" I teased. "Those too," she admitted with a shy grin. "They are very nice as far as these things go. Very... distracting. Your bum is very nice as well. So are your lips, and your eyes," she whispered dreamily. "Oh, God, Isea - it's been so long since I could be this... open to a stranger. But it's strange... you don't feel like a stranger to me. I feel... safe. Here, with you, I mean. It's nice. Feeling... safe, like this. I wish it would last." I shivered as she reached out and cautiously took my hand. "See?" I said. "I told you this would happen." "It was an easy prediction, it didn't need Nostradamus to make it," she said. She shifted, squeezed her leg out against mine again. "And now I guess I have to tell you a secret, and here it is - I dreamed of you last night. I dreamed you pinned me down and kissed me and made love to me. I dreamed that you made me come so hard that I cried. It... hurt... when you weren't there when I woke this morning." "Oh," I breathed. She turned slightly to face me. Her smile was wistful. "There. Now you know how silly I am. A silly little girl who just wants to not always be so very alone in this world. Oh well. At least I told you. Now you have to tell me a secret as well," she said. "You said that that is what happens now." "I dreamed of you. We were swimming and you put your hands on me. You touched my breasts. And my thighs, and my belly... and my lips, and inside me. You kissed me. It was perfect. And then I woke, alone. I'm used to waking alone. It would be... nice... not to do so. It has been a

long time since I last woke up in someone's arms. I would love to wake in your arms." She shivered, licked her lips with the tip of her tongue. "So..." I breathed, entranced. "So those are the secrets dealt with, then. I suppose the next thing is..." And she leaned in, and kissed me, and when she at last pulled back I was panting. It had never felt like this before. Never. "Wow. Oh... oh, wow..." I gasped, struggling. "Oh wow, oh wow..." She put an arm around me and pulled me in against her; my belly spasmed and I let out a soft grunting gasp. "Say it," she whispered, her voice warm and fluttery. "You are dying to say it. Get it over with." "No. Oh, no. It doesn't need to be said. But... oh wow... but this definitely took... less time than I thought it might." "I am impulsive. It's a character flaw. Oh well. I suppose we had better swim back, though I think you are going to owe me favours forever over the teasing I'm about to receive from my ingrate friends." "I will charm them all; they will be too busy congratulating you on your excellent taste in women to ever dream of mocking you." And she laughed, and pulled me to my feet, and kissed me again to the sound of distant squeals and cat-calls from those we'd left behind on the shore. We swam back to the beach and climbed out of the water, and Daniella took my hand in hers and closed her fingers around mine as she led me to where her friends had set up on the warm, white sand. And that was how she introduced me into her little found family; a group of local kids who'd grown up around one-another, born to parents who had done the same. Bettina was studying fashion, and Maria (the blonde) was studying Jurisprudence in Turin. Marco was apprenticing to his uncle who was a baker... And Daniella?

Daniella, my Midnight princess, wanted to become an engineer, but had a year of remedial Mathematics she needed first - so she was studying classics and art to fill what time she had free when she wasn't buried in her books. Maria quizzed me mercilessly - clearly vetting my suitability as a partner for her friend. I smiled but said nothing more than that I lived locally and that my family had been in the general area for generations. When pressed, I hinted that they farmed grapes for the cooperative winemakers, and that seemed to satisfy her - more or less. I said that I was breaking with tradition - that I had dreams of being an author rather than a farmer, and Bettina and Marco cheered me on. Daniella sat pressed up against me; I was intensely conscious of the warmth of her body against mine. Her friends seemed pleased for her, and Bettina hid a soppy smile when I took a chance and leaned my head on Daniella's shoulder. But at last the sun moved on, and the four of them decided it was time to go. "Can we give you a ride, Isea?" Marco asked me. "Thank you, but no. My house is nearby, I will enjoy the walk. It's one of my favourite times of the day." Daniella reached out and took my hand in hers. "Will I see you later?" she said. "If you would like to." "I would like to." "Then you will see me later," I said. She smiled and squeezed my hand, then moved in closer.. A quick kiss on my lips, her hand moving delightfully over my bum, and more laughter and teasing from her friends as she turned, blushing, away. I stood, waving, as they piled into the Fiat and drove off; Dani blew kisses at me through the window at the back. The noise of the vehicle

faded; leaving only the gentle rippling of my waters to keep me company. I fidgeted with my toes in the sand. I hadn't lied - not exactly. But it had been difficult to maintain my facade before them, especially before Maria who seemed to be like a wolfhound when it came to sniffing out prevarication and redirection. I got the feeling that she was not entirely convinced about me. I would be more careful next time. 🙙🝢🙛 Dusk was falling as I crossed the Piazza del Lago. I stared at the warm, welcoming light from "Chianti" and climbed the short flight of stairs. Daniella was behind the counter; her cousin, thankfully, was not. She flushed as she saw me enter and moved towards my side of the bar. She seemed delighted to see me. "Hello, pretty girl," I greeted her. "Hello," she replied, smiling. She tossed her head; her fringe and curlicue bangs danced for me. "Wow. I was nervous before you got here. Now it's far, far worse." "Why?" I said, laughing. "My clothes, perhaps?" My tunic was different tonight; a deep, Tyrian purple with a goldembroidered hem that I'd girdled with a cloth-of-gold belt as if I were an ancient Queen. "Somehow between this morning and this evening... I forgot just how beautiful you actually are." I stared at her. Then I grinned. "Clearly not beautiful enough if you're already forgetting." "No! That's... that's not..." she protested. I felt playful; mischievous. I slowly extended the tip of my tongue, and licked my upper lip with it. She watched me, rapt. Then she shook her head.

"Oh, oh Dio santo, you... you make me forget how to speak when you look at me like that." "Like what?" I breathed. "Can a woman not make eyes at the woman she wants to make love to?" "Isea!" she hissed, flushing bright red. "You... you promised! Someone will hear you!" "There is no-one else here. If there were, I'd whisper, or say it all with my eyes. Like this..." I dropped my gaze to her breasts, sheathed neatly in her white cotton shirt and the bra beneath it. "See?" I said. I gave her a wicked grin. "I can be quiet if I must." She stared at me, her fingers tapping an odd, staccato rhythm on the dented and aged counter top. "Well," she said at last. She took a breath. "Well," she repeated. "Now... now it's going to be a very long night for me." "Oh, I can only imagine the excruciating tingles on every single one of those lovely curves of yours," I breathed. "Isea!" she whined. "Stop, you... you're taunting me and it's not fair." "What does fair have to do with anything?" I reached out, gently trailed my finger along the back of her hand; she groaned softly. "Fair would be not telling you how aroused I am right now; that my nipples are hard and my lips are wet and my body..." "Isea..." she moaned. "... is ready for you to have me in any way you want me." She bit her lip and made a soft noise of frustration. "I told you I would do this," I said. "I told you I would be direct, that I would stake my claim in no uncertain terms. That I would tell you that I want you to kiss me and spread me and have me..." I licked my own upper lip with the uttermost tip of my tongue. She whimpered.

"Oh," I said, giving a theatrical gasp and a faint little pant... A full-body shudder rippled through her. "Oh, if only, if only you were... eager enough to have me..." "Oh mother of God. Oh my God," she whispered. "You are so evil." She slowly and methodically looked around the bar. It was empty, completely empty. So was the Piazza outside; nobody was coming. We were alone. "Come with me," she said, suddenly. "Quickly, before anyone sees us." Her imperative tone took me by surprise. "Oh! But... but where..." "Shh! Be quiet and come with me!" She took me by the hand and led me around the counter and through a dark wooden door. The space behind was crowded with boxes and dimly-lit by a single incandescent bulb that hung from the ceiling on an old wire. I drew breath to ask another question...and then her lips were on mine and her arm was around me and her hand was desperately fumbling at the fabric over my breasts. I moaned and arched backwards; a spasm shook me. Her touch had instantly aroused me to fever pitch and my body, my mind... my entire being... craved her. She fumbled at my shoulder straps, and got first the left and then the right free. She bared my breasts to herself, and trailed kisses down over my throat and shoulder until she took my left nipple in her hot, desperate mouth. I struggled against her, freed my arms from the restricting fabric, and tangled and twisted my fingers in her hair, grunting, arching hard against her. She moved to my right nipple; her hands cupping me, holding me, squeezing me hard between her warm, smooth fingers. Our panting breaths seemed ridiculously loud; she groaned as I dug my nails into her scalp and pulled her against me.

I felt her hand scrabbling downwards; she grappled at the fabric of my tunic and pulled it upwards so that she could worm her fingers underneath it and along my thigh to my aching lips. She gasped as she realised that I was naked beneath my thin layer of purple. She pressed against me, panting, seeking and finding my mouth with her own hot lips. Her fingers probed me, parted my warm slick folds and brushed against my engorged, aching nub. "Take... me," I panted, unable to bear the heat of her on me and yet desperately needing more of it. "Not yet, not yet," she gasped. She released me; fumbled her buttons open and folded her shirt roughly back over her arms. She tripped the clip of her bra and let the cups flick away from her own breasts. I reached for her and began to fondle, to worship, to cup them with desperation heightened and amplified by need and our risk of discovery. She kissed me again, then pinned me against the counter as she shifted. She got her hands under my bare buttocks and lifted me with a grunt; I instinctively locked my legs around her as she turned and placed me up on a narrow, free section of counter top. "I am going to taste you," she gasped. "I have wanted it all day." My left leg spasmed as she began to kiss down over my belly, I groped backwards with my left hand to find something to brace against. I angled my hips, opened myself as wide as I could.. and moaned in desperate bliss as she reached me; the muttered "Oh, Oh God," and shudder she gave proving how much she wanted me. She put her hands on my inner thighs to force me open. She spread my lips with her thumbs. And her tongue was perfect - hot and firm and moving in the most practised and perfect way over and around my clitoris. It was brief. It was frantic.

She shifted a hand so she could put a fingertip to my entrance, and my toes clicked and curled in an uncontrollable expression of my overloaded senses. Her tongue lapping, fingertip teasing at me as I writhed and squirmed and bucked against her. Maybe twenty, maybe thirty mad, galloping beats of my heart, and then a building, enfolding, crashing, thundering climax that arched me backwards so hard I banged my head on the wooden panelling. I moaned, little grunting gasps, each in time with a rippling spasm in my belly. And then, as they faded, I opened my eyes and stared down at her, gazing up at me from behind my mound of Venus, and I rejoiced in the feral frown of lust that creased her forehead. I could tell she was smiling. My toes curled as she lapped, and lapped again. Then she paused. A moment of clarity; both of us staring at one another, wondering what we'd just done. And then I pulled her up from me and kissed her, tasting myself on her, she ground her belly hard against my thighs. I fumbled for her crotch; she moaned again and clamped her thighs together on me as she hunched her shoulders forward against me. I could clearly feel the heat of her, even through her clothing; I desired her free of it, I needed to feel my lover's unfettered, unencumbered body on my fingers. I fumbled at her belt, at the button and zip of her black linen trousers. I pulled them down over her perfect, tanned bum and thighs and freed her from the embrace of her negligible, undesired, irritating black underwear. I touched and parted her and brought my fingers back to smell her, to taste her. She let out a shivery little sound of desire as she watched, entranced.

A moment of calm before the plunge; then I lunged upwards, caught her neck with my arm, and pulled her hard against me as I began to drive my fingers between her slick, hot lips and over her little firm hood. She cried out, then bit down hard on her lips, humming and groaning, shimmying desperately as she tried to prevent herself from screaming in her clearly-displayed ecstasy. I kissed her breasts, and the elegant line of her throat, while she bucked in and out and tried to force my finger into her. But I didn't give her what she needed, what she craved - not until she was whimpering and crying and begging in a pleading whisper for me to push my fingers into her and fuck her properly. I slid off the counter and braced myself. Then I drove two fingers into her; she arched forward and spasmed against me for some unknowable length; I rode her mercilessly until her thighs were shaking and her fingernails were gouging into me, a low keening moan all she could vocalise. And then I took pity and eased. She slumped in against me; each frantic breath a faint little gasp, each post-orgasmic shudder a delightful teasing little ripple for me to feel across my soul. I held her, my heart and lips and body aching for her still. And she made a soft, wordless noise and buried her face in my hair. At last she released me; she stumbled backwards and leaned against a cupboard door. Her hair was wild and her pussy lips puffy and soaked. She touched herself, shuddered, then stared at the beaded moisture on her slender fingers. "You are too good at that," she whispered. "Oh, oh fuck me, you are so incredibly good at that." I straightened the fall of my dress over my thighs and eased my shoulder straps back into position. Then, modest again, I slowly fastened her bra, positioned it, and buttoned up her shirt - while she stared down at me, helpless and captivated. "I am not even warmed up," I breathed. "That was just a taste of what I want of you. I'm going to make you make me scream your name."

She grinned, and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Let me work, and let me rest, and then I will come and find you. That was... magical.. I want... no, I need more from you." And I smiled up at her as she did her best to tame her unruly mane. She snuck a peek out through the door; the bar was still deserted. No more than a few minutes could have passed. She took my hand and led me back out, and I stared hungrily down at her slender bum as she eased me around the counter again. "So... a glass of wine, was it?" she said, innocently. "Yes. Definitely..." I whispered; then I paused, shuddering as another aftershock rocked me. She laughed in delight, and, still giggling, she dug beneath the counter for the Villa Elisa. She found me a glass and poured me more than she should have. Then, just as she was about to hand me the wine, she paused. "You are the prettiest woman I've ever seen," she said. "You said I'd say that, and it's true. You are. And by far the most beautiful I've ever been lucky enough to... be with." And she raised the glass to her coral-pink lips and took a slow sip before placing it in front of me. "You've drunk from my cup," I said, as a shadow of melancholy suddenly seized me. "You've kissed me. You've... had me. So now... well, now I'm afraid that you must pay the price." "And what is that?" she answered, smiling. But then her smile faded. "Isea? What is it?" she said softly. She reached out to touch my lips with her thumb. "Isea?" "I have reached the point," I said. She paused, then leaned in closer, and closer still. "What point, Isea?" she said softly, her eyes tracking over my face. "The point, Dani, where I begin to lose my heart to you forever."

"You're... serious, aren't you?" she said. "You're not just trying to be poetic, you're actually dead serious when you say that." I nodded. She let her head fall downwards as she contemplated that. Then she raised it again, and tucked her hair back once more. "I will try to be worthy of your heart, then," she said. I sat there at the bar, keeping her company, as the infrequent visitors came, and chatted, and ordered their drinks before leaving. At midnight she sighed and shook her shoulders. "Time to close up," she told me. "Apparently things will get mad in a week or two but right now... thank you for being here. Thank you for the company... and for keeping me warm," she said with a smile. "It gave me lots of time with you," I said. "And... that makes me very happy." "Mm. Me too, though my pussy is still soaked and aching," she grumbled. I laughed. She closed out the till and disappeared into the office with the cash tray. She returned a few moments later with her thin coat and a set of keys. "Come. Let's go somewhere more... relaxed. Come," she repeated, and she gently applied pressure to the small of my back. She locked the door of the bar behind us and struggled into her coat. "How are you not freezing, standing there with no coat and no underwear?" she said. "I'm still warm from you," I teased. She tucked in against me and linked her arm with mine. "So..." she said. "So." "Are we going to your house, or my flat?"

I paused, feeling a faint brush of disquiet. My house was not an option, and hers might be beyond my reach. "Why... why don't we stay near the lake for now," I said. "It is a beautiful night." "That it is," she agreed. She smiled down at me. "But... are you sure?" "I like the water under the moon," I whispered. "This is my favourite place. Well... maybe second favourite, now that I know what it's like to be in you..." She laughed and barged me gently with her hip. "... And... I haven't cleaned. I cannot let you see my home just yet. Tomorrow night... maybe?" "You are such a flirt," she said, but I knew I'd pleased her. "And... what about mine?" "The night after," I said, smiling. "I would love nothing more than to fall asleep on top of you..." "Oh, on top of me, is it?" "... oh, yes, but..." "Cooler heads must win," she said softly. "I understand. I am far too impulsive; I leap without looking." "I like that you've leaped without looking," I protested. I caught her hand in mine and squeezed it. "I just... don't want to disappoint you." She laughed and shook her head; her enchanting ringlets danced under the silver moonlight. "That would be hard," she said. "You're great with your fingers." I felt myself blushing. "There's... more to things than that, Dani, as sweet as it is that you think that way..." "Maybe. But it's a good start. So... does that mean I don't get to have you again tonight?" I glanced around. "Well," I said, "there is a bench right over there..."

"It's under a lamp," she pointed out. "Nice try, but no. I am not taking my pants off in the light for everyone to see me. Not even for you, I'm afraid. And I'm most certainly not doing anything depraved there, I'm already a big enough disappointment to my family." "Which way is your flat, then?" I said, touched and saddened for her. "Up the hill - see that building with the pink wall and the big pines? That's home; I have a room with its own door." "Oh," I said. It was far - too far, likely. "I don't think I can walk that far." "I have my Lambretta," she said. "It may not look like much, but it will carry both of us up the hill." I paused. Moving away from my waters would weaken me. It was... too great a risk. "I... cannot," I whispered. "I wish I could, but I cannot. Not tonight." "Oh," she said, disappointed. "And there I thought you liked me." "But... but I do!" I protested, before I noticed the grin. "Oh, you... you..." "I understand nerves, and not wanting to expose yourself." Her smile faded. "Believe me, I know what it's like to be found out. I know what it's like to trust blindly." "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm spoiling the mood." "Don't. I... understand." I moved in closer and reached up to wrap my arms around her; she sighed and leaned in against me. "It doesn't mean I'm not going to sulk, though," she whispered as she squeezed me. "I was looking forward to feeling you again. I'm... cramping, I want you so much." "Oh? Well... that's easily solved, Dani," I said, as I tugged the hem of my skirt up between us and took her hand in mine. "What are you... oh... oh..." I teased her fingers along my wet inner lips and shuddered against her; she groaned.

"You feel so amazing," she gasped. "I wish I could be in you again..." "Also... uhn... easily solved..." I pulled her hand away from me and tugged her to one of the small flights of stairs that led down to the water. There, in a patch of gloom, I braced myself against a pillar and parted my legs for her. I lifted my dress and waited. "Well?" I said, when she didn't seem to get the hint. She stared down at my bare, exposed crotch, then glanced around wildly before she leaned in. "Are you crazy?" she breathed. "What if someone sees?" "You're just going to have to be very quick," I moaned. "Very quick. Take me; take me here, make me yours again... but quickly...oh... oh..." Her fingers danced over me, her arm supported me as she kissed my ear, my throat, my shoulder... And it felt like only seconds later that I came hard on her, arching against her, panting my little wordless gasps of pleasure into her chest. And then she reached up to our mouths and teased her finger into mine; I groaned at the taste of myself on her skin. "I barely touched you," she whispered, thoroughly pleased with her performance. "And yet you react like that to me." "Can't help it. Sex with you. Is amazing," I panted. "It's... Dani, it's been so long since anyone touched me. And you do it so, so well..." And she stifled any further words with another kiss. Later - much later - I finally managed to convince her to leave me there in the Piazza and go home; she was grumpy about that but I promised her I'd be fine and that, anyway, I had things I needed to do early in the morning. I kissed her until my breath ran out, and kissed her again once she'd straddled her scooter.

"Play with yourself some more and tell me about it tomorrow," I demanded. "I'm too sore now to play with myself, and anyway you'd need to beg for the details," she laughed. She smiled at me. "Sleep well, you mad, divine woman." "Oh, I will. I definitely will." And I stood back and watched her turn and ride away. My mood dipped and dimmed. Selene's thoughtful face sank towards the south-western ridges, and her silver path sparkled on the water. I wondered how I would ever reach my lover's bed. I wondered whether I still had the strength in me to spend a night in her arms, or whether she'd wake and see me, incapacitated and fading... "Oh, Selene, guide me," I whispered. But the Great mother was silent. So I turned, and made my way slowly over my lonely waters to the distant solitude of home. 🙙🝢🙛 Dawn. I woke, limbs and loins still aching pleasantly from Daniella's tongue and fingers. I groaned, then smiled, clenching my thighs tightly together as I thought about my new lover. I wondered if she was similarly tender. Frantic fumbling in whatever space presented itself, with no time to prepare - aches were a common aftertaste of that flavour of lovemaking. I wondered if she was thinking of me. I swung my legs from my bed and sat, considering my limited options. I would tell her that I was... in seclusion here? That my book was one on ancient mythology? Perhaps I'd... decamped to this place to immerse myself in the history? I paused.

It was as good a tale as any, and at least I'd... have the knowledge to back it up. I sighed. I hated having to hide who I was. Perhaps... No. No, I couldn't reveal my nature to her. Modern humans didn't react well; the ancients had at least known we were there and were accustomed to seeing us without then instantly going and medicating themselves into insensibility. So... I'd need something - a meal. Blankets, I supposed. A bed was out of the question, there was no time. We would have to improvise. But I needed to pass as someone... at least somewhat like her. I changed my chemise into something that approximated the clothes Daniella had worn - a tee shirt and jeans, though my jeans were a deep indigo-blue. And then I dug into the small Cedarwood trunk that housed my treasures. Gold and silver coins, I mused, were unlikely to be accepted. I had some Euros; not a king's ransom, but people were persistent in their attempts to lose coins and notes in the sands along my banks. Why, just last year, that wealthy Roman had fallen from his launch and lost his wallet to my depths... I lifted the wallet from the depths of the chest, and removed ten of the crinkling notes; seventeen remained, and more would certainly come my way before Summer's end. It would be so much easier if I could use my coins, I thought. But a sixth sense warned me against trying. There was no point in creating an event and drawing attention to myself. I shod myself in a pair of shoes like those Dani had worn. And then I set off for the small village of Predore which lay less than a mile away around the curve of the shore. There was a shop there that sold various things; I'd seen people walking out carrying everything from brightly-coloured buckets to jars of fruit. It would probably have what I needed.

And it did. I bought something that the shopkeeper had explained was an inflatable sleeping pad of some sort big enough for two, some thin cotton sheets, two pillows and two blankets. He'd been bemused by me, and then amused by me, but once he'd decided I was harmless he had been extremely helpful - almost fatherly, in a way. I bought a little canvas bag with the silhouetted image of Monte Isola printed on it, and carried my purchases in it as I dug through his small selection of fresh produce from his garden. I bought olives, and vine tomatoes. I bought bread that his wife had baked that morning, and a bottle of wine and some clear plastic glasses to drink it from. And then I paused. "How should I make a fire?" I said. "If I want a fire, that is?" He thought for a moment, then placed a small yellow box on the counter. "These are what you need," he said. "Lighters fail sometimes, these matches will not." And I thanked him with a smile, and paid him, and walked my new things back home with me. I inflated the mattress, though first I spent a good while squinting at the strange pictographs that claimed to demonstrate how to do it yet didn't. I moved my pillows onto it, and covered it with a sheet and a blanket. Then I lay down on it and stared upwards at the dusty rock roof of my cave. It was very comfortable. Quite different to my bed. And a new perspective too. I liked the change. I sat up, and reached for the matches. After staring at more pictoglyphs and some experimentation, I managed to light a match, and stared, enraptured, as the flame consumed the wood. I'd seen people collect kindling, so I did that, and heaped it up, and taught myself how to light it.

The flames fascinated me; they were so fast, so alive. So quick to die away again. I fetched stones and ringed my hearth with them to prevent any accidents. I collected more kindling and some bigger boughs. It was nearly midday. I wondered if she'd be swimming. I thought about that image for a moment or two. Then I yawned and stretched. I could no longer sense all my waters, not in these latter days. So I'd have to go and look. I changed my outfit into the "designer blue swimsuit" as she'd called it, and walked down the bank to my waters, and from there along the shore until I reached my favourite hollowed-out rock. I stared out at the beach, but was disappointed. She was not there. I settled down onto the rock, pensive. Then I shrugged. She'd likely slept late, I thought. It had been very late by the time we'd exhausted one-another and she'd left. Likely she'd been catching up on whatever it was she needed to be doing in the morning. I'd visit her at work, and get her to come home with me. A strange whim occurred to me. I slipped down into the water and began to swim - like Daniella had done, kicking her long, graceful legs and thrashing her arms... It was so inefficient, so ridiculous; I laughed, and then laughed again at the simple joy of laughter. Her presence lingered in this place; I felt her love everywhere. I turned onto my back and suspended myself at the surface, letting my waters carry me slowly with the gentle current that kissed the bank, smiling up at the birds that came to see what on earth I was doing. And the slow face of the sun crossed the heavens and began his gentle descent into evening. I made my way to Iseo, and waited in the shallows, just off the shore of the Piazza del Lago.

I watched her arrive; watched her park her Lambretta, watched the careful way she swung her legs off the seat... And then, once she'd climbed the steps to the bar, I stepped from the water and assumed a new outfit. A simple skirt tonight; something more modern, pale linen falling to my knees and a soft, pink cotton top that obscured almost nothing of the curves of my bare breasts beneath it. I climbed the stairs and crossed the Piazza; a man whistled at me and I twirled for him and blessed him with a smile. I reached the bar. I pushed open the door. And she looked up at me with a warm, sensual smile that became a slack-jawed stare. "Oh my God, Isea," she said as I closed the distance to her. "You look amazing. Come and sit here with me, I will be right with you." I slid onto a stool and waited for her to finish what she was doing. She put some glasses back into a rack and tucked her hair back behind an ear. She was also blushing, her eyes bright and excited. "Hello, pretty girl. You're blushing," I added, helpfully. She gave me a mortified look, and then laughed, shoulders shaking in the most perfect way. "Stop that. You know perfectly well why," she said. "You're stunning tonight, Isea." She moved over to me and leaned on the counter, staring into my eyes. "I had lovely dreams," she said, and I found myself watching her lips as she said the words. "Delicious dreams, I hope," I whispered, pleased. "Sublime. Nearly as good as what we did before them. So. A glass of wine for my lover?" she said. "Please," I said, blushing in pleasure.

She turned and busied herself. I spent my time admiring her hips and the shape of her legs under the tight black trousers she was wearing, and thinking about the treasure they hid beneath them. She turned and caught me staring; she laughed softly. "Caught you," she said. "Yes," I admitted. "I like staring at you." "You're allowed to," she said, pleased. "How long are you here tonight?" I asked. "Only an hour or two, then Giovanni is coming to work the later shift. We've agreed that there's no point in both of us being here when nobody else is, and his girl will come visit him when she's done tonight." "So you're free?" "Perhaps," she said. A smile curved her lips. "Why?" "If I ask you nicely, would you come... to my home?" She paused. "So you've cleaned, then?" "A bit..." I admitted. "Not that there was much to do. I was making excuses, you were right." "I knew you were. But I don't mind. Baby steps are the safest, aren't they?" "Mm." She placed my glass in front of me; I closed my eyes for a moment to enjoy the aromas. "It's so strange the way you do that. You... you go still for a moment, it's as if you're not even there." "Memories," I said. "They... are powerful and evocative for me." "Mm. And you love that specific wine that much?"

"Yes. It's our local vineyard after all. They use the lake water, and the vines grow in our soil under our sun. It's like drinking the distilled flavours of this place. It's like tasting its history on my tongue." "I suppose that makes sense," she said. "I hadn't realised it was from down the valley. It's a nice wine." "Yes. It was made with love," I said; she smiled. "You say that word a lot," she said. "You're a very passionate person behind that beautiful model's face." "I... just love my home. This valley, this lake... the people," I added, staring up at her. She reached out and touched my cheek. "So," she whispered. "So." "Any chance of a kiss?" "Oh... I don't know..." And then she laughed and leaned forward across the counter to kiss me. I sat across from her, smiling at her and listening to her natter away about her day and all the things she'd had to catch up on due to our late night. And I made up a story, a little white lie, about lying on my bed and thinking about my book. It was a tale set in the area, I said - featuring the people who'd lived here long ago. I'd watched history, and I was mythology personified... why not play to those strengths? I felt a stab of guilt that I was lying, but... there wasn't much choice. Modern people didn't believe in me, and I feared what would happen if she learned my true nature. So... I spun my tale for her, and she watched me and listened, wideeyed and entranced. We suffered a few interruptions - men and women and couples who arrived and wanted their own wine and their own time with my beloved. She'd serve them, and laugh at their jokes - but she'd always return to me.

Her cousin arrived early; he smiled at me and scoffed at her as she begged him to cover for her, but gladly did so, and she hugged him hard. I liked how she telegraphed her affection for people. I liked how her eyes telegraphed her affection for me. She grabbed her thin jacket and took my hand and tugged me outside, steering me by pulls and nudges towards her rusty silver scooter. "Where to?" she asked, as she buckled her helmet onto my head. "You look nervous." "I've never ridden on one of these before," I confessed. "It's easy - like riding a bicycle." "Um... I haven't ever ridden a bicycle either." "Oh. Really?" She eyed me for a moment. "Sit on the seat, and move backwards. Let me get on in front of you." And I did as she instructed and soon got to enjoy the warm pressure of her bum against my thighs. "Now... wrap your arms around me. Just... under my breasts. No. Not there; those are my breasts, Isea, and you know that. Leave my nipples... oh Dio Santo! Lower. Yes, like that. Now hold on, and... lean when I lean." I was still giggling to myself as she started the motor, and slowly eased us around. "You are impossible," she said. She pushed back against me. "Vixen. Again... where to?" "The north shore, just past Predore." "Are you okay?" she said. "Ready?" "I... think so..." "Hold on tight now, and don't let go. "

The motor roared and I closed my eyes, laughing in childlike glee as the wind began to rush over my skin and tug at my clothes. "It's like flying! I love it!" I called to her, and I heard her loud laughter. "Where are we going!" she shouted. "Just... just keep going, I'll tell you when to slow." And she pushed back against me and bore us off into the night; I felt like I was riding a horse across the wheat fields of Elysium. Soon we'd crossed the bridge, and swept through Sarnico and Predore. A couple of slow turns of the lakeside road, and I tapped her stomach. "Slow down... on the right... here!" She turned off the road and we bounced cautiously down the short dusty track towards the water. "Stop here," I shouted, and she eased us gently to a halt. She lowered the bike onto its stand and climbed off. Then she helped me slide off the seat and stand. I gave her her helmet, and she hung it on the handlebars. "Now where?" she said. "I don't see a house anywhere around here, Isea." "Yet this is where I live. Come on." I took her hand in mine and led her through the masking shrubs to the small out-thrust arm of the hill and the gentle glamour that discouraged unwanted visitors. She stopped when she saw the dry-stone wall. "Here?" she said, incredulously. "You live here?" "For the moment," I said. "It's... part of the experience." She stared at me. Then she shrugged. "Well... I suppose you needed to have something strange and mysterious about you," she said, smiling. "But this is... very rural, Isea. Not even my Grandparents live this off the grid..."

"I like it. It's quiet and peaceful and gives me the space I need to think. Come, Dani. Come into my home." She followed me dubiously around the wall, then stopped. "Oh," she whispered. "Oh... this is actually... lovely." I smiled over my shoulder at her. "I know it seems very... poor, by comparison to the towns... " "Isea, no! I love it! It's so simple and so beautiful. Oh... oh my goodness, are these coins in this niche gold?" "Some. Some are brass. And silver, and some are even electrum." "It's so clever. Did you do this?" "Yes," I said, pleased. "I found them all in the water, and... well, they're pretty." "Other people would have sold these to collectors," she said. "These... Isea! These are Roman! They must be worth a fortune!" "Maybe, but... I prefer using them like this. Wait... I'll light the fire. I have fruit, and tomatoes, and bread and wine for us." She stopped staring at the coins and turned, taking in the pebble floor, the clean rock walls, the Spartan existence... "You live so frugally. It is... wonderful. I'm suddenly so jealous of you." "I don't need much," I said. "I never have. Just what the land provides, and love to keep me going." She glanced around. "May I sit on your bed?" "Of course! Sorry, I spend most of my time outside, so I have no chairs. I keep meaning to fix that, but... it's only been me, so..." "How do you write?" she said. "There's no paper, no pens - just this small bookshelf." "I keep it all up here," I said, tapping my head. "I have an excellent memory."

"You must do. I don't," she confessed. "I write lists for myself and then forget where I put the lists." "I'd keep your lists for you," I said; she grinned. I knelt and lit a match, then touched it to the pile of kindling. I added sticks and then small sections of fallen branches. The fire blossomed and began to build; I leaned back and then sat on the pebble floor, pleased with myself, watching the smoke kiss the roof before billowing out in the gap between wall and overhang. "So... tell me about your book," she said. She shifted on the bed and leaned forward. I felt a pang of conscience. But I'd gone too far down this road to step away from it; I had to carry on. "The first people here were... well, you'd call them Neanderthals I suppose," I said. "Long ago. There's little... trace of them - hollowed stones, bits of worked antler. Hard to... tell a cohesive story about and even harder to get any sort of feeling for. They worshipped the sun and the moon, that much I do know. Later came more modern men, and it was much the same. Then... down the long, narrow road of years, other people we'd think of as similar to modern Europeans came here. They worshipped more things - springs and rivers and mountains and thunderstorms and so on. But again - there's little left of them. The first people to really leave a lasting mark on this valley were the Etruscans." "Hang on - I know them, they're the tribe who became the Romans?" "I suppose that's a way of looking at it. My book's about them. They were... beautiful people. Tall, by the standards of the times. Honourable, mostly. Reliable friends and terrible enemies. They built an empire that spanned from Mantua to Naples. I'm writing a... fictional historical romance involving one of their queens. Her name was Tanaquil." A flash of memory - the tall, black-haired woman, casting coins and jewels into the water in the hope of favourable harvests... "You did it again," Daniella said. "You went... still. Still as stone. Are you okay?" "I was... visualising her. Wondering what she was like."

A lie, of course. I knew precisely what she'd looked like. I'd watched her from my waters, I'd felt her swim in me, I'd taken her breasts in my hands as she'd writhed against me... Beyond my cave mouth, moonlight lit the leaves of the shrubs and grasses. From my perch on the floor I could just see Selene peering into my home. I raised my arms and bowed my head. "And who was she in love with?" Daniella asked, when I was done. "A... demigoddess of water," I said softly. "No way. " "They... believed in different things," I said, feeling strangely defensive. "Dryads and Nereids, Satyrs, Naiads... gods like Apollo and Athena... the world was alive to them in a different way than it is to you... I mean, us." She gave me a strange look, then shook her head, bemused. "It's strange. Sitting here, talking to you... it feels closer, somehow. Like you're talking about beings... people who existed, rather than names in books." "People forget that names in books were once people like them. With the same wants, the same needs, the same loves... the same fears..." "Mm. So... when will you write your book, Isea?" "Soon," I said, grinning. "After summer, maybe I'll start..." ‷... liar...‴ The words were soft, and sad. "No..." I breathed, awed. And then my skin began to glow. "No... no, no, no!" I cried out, as panic seized me. "Isea? What's going on? What the fuck. Isea... oh, oh holy blood of Christ, what the fuck..."

"It's... it's not what it looks like, please!" I wailed, as my hair went silver. She'd scrambled to her feet. She was staring down at me in horror... "You're... you're glowing! You're fucking glowing! Mary mother of God, what the fuck! Who are you! What are you!" "Please, please wait, wait, I can explain! I'm a... I'm a goddess of water, I live here, I've lived here forever... please, please, listen!" "Fuck this. Absolutely fuck all this, this is mad, I'm out. Fuck this! And fuck you too!" she shouted, voice shrill with panic. I moved to block her; I grappled with her, desperate to explain, to beg her to stay, to delay her... "Dani! Please!" I screamed. "Please, just... just let me explain!" "Get away from me, demon!" she screamed back. She hit me - a hard, ringing slap to my jaw and cheek that stunned me, and barged into me, tumbling me to the ground as she ran for her scooter. I lay spread-eagled in the dirt, panting, my cheek stinging and ears ringing from the force of her open-handed blow. I listened to her kick her scooter into life; the wild scrabbling of little rocks as she spun it and rode off at a breakneck pace into the darkness. Nobody had ever struck me before. Nobody had ever used any violence on me. Ever. It... hurt. It hurt deep in me, like a knife that had wormed its way into my bowels and was slicing and rending deep within me. Despair took me. I stared up at the Great mother, her waning face mournful in the black night sky beyond my prison walls. "Why?" I begged her. "Why?" ‷... because you lied...‴ came her distant, almost-forgotten voice, soft and beautiful and inexpressibly disappointed. How much of her remaining strength had her four words to me cost her?

Too much. Far too much. Many times too much for me to bear. I rolled over and hid my face as the hot tears of shame took me. I had lied. I might try to squirm around the truth of it, but the Great mother knew intent. I'd lied to hide what I was. It didn't matter why, it didn't matter what modern man (and woman) didn't believe and wouldn't even entertain. It didn't matter that the truth would make the woman I adored flee in terror. I was a kindly one. I was a Naiad. I nourished life, I guarded, I cherished. Lies were the province of others. So how could I expect Selene to countenance my behaviour? I couldn't. She wouldn't. It was against her nature. And so... I'd done this. And this was my reward and the long-delayed beginning of my slow, final fading. "Farewell, Dani. You were by far the sweetest of all," I whispered to the uncaring stones beneath me. I slowly levered myself out of the dust, and crawled by slow, broken degrees to the bed I'd made for us on top of the inflatable mattress. I found my heart-stone and cupped it to my belly as I curled around it. Now I truly had nothing remaining to me but the slow passage of those years still allotted to me. I was too broken to cry any further. There was no point now, anyway. Nobody would comfort me. I was alone. The flames grew lower, then flickered, then died. The coals cooled from red to black. The heat in the rocks around them faded. Selene's face dipped and disappeared. The pale blush of Dawn dimmed the watching stars. I lay, still as stone, seeking comfort in Oblivion. But even Oblivion was denied me. 🙙🝢🙛

She did not come to my waters. She did not come to her bar. I waited. And watched. For three days and three nights I waited and watched. I could be patient as the stars when I needed to; invisible to humans, my skin moving gently in the kiss of the wind, my body stirred to eddies by the multitude of boats that crossed me. I waited. But I didn't hope. I had no right to hope any longer. I just wanted to see her one last time before the end. But even I can despair. And so, I'd given up, and retreated to my redoubt, my little cave in the mountainside that I'd first curiously explored all those long years ago. And now I sat, staring into the flickering flames of the fire I'd started for company. It was a calm evening, with slow-drifting clouds sometimes veiling Selene's face, and the heat of the day still lingered in the rocks. My waters shimmered and rippled in the night breeze, but I paid neither my waters nor the wider world any mind. Instead, I stared inwards to the slowly-growing nothingness within me. And then... I felt her. At first I ignored the feeling. It was likely some critical need that had brought her back; I would leave her be. I'd hurt her enough. Why do more? But the feeling persisted. She was somewhere nearby. Probably staring out into the night, crying and cursing my name. I sighed. It took a monumental effort, but I summoned the will to stand. And I walked slowly to the mouth of my cave and stared out into the darkness.

Someone was moving out near the water. I paused. The gentle glamour of the place would hide my home from them. I would watch until they moved on, then go back to my home and wait, quietly, for my end. Selene's face broke free from a wisp of entangling cloud; my breath caught in my throat. It was her. It was Dani. She was walking to and fro near the water, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. I could dimly hear her muttering and cursing to herself. Then she stopped. "Where are you!" she shouted, suddenly. "I know this is where we were, I know the mountains, I know these rocks! This is the place. Where are you! Isea, please!" Her voice was shrill and ragged. I could see that she was exhausted. I could tell that she'd been crying. I stayed where I was, cowering in the darkness, watching her and wondering if I was brave enough yet to go to her. The words she'd shouted at me still stung. My jaw still bore the bruise of her blow. But... I had the benefit of age. She was young, she was passionate. Could I truly blame her for reacting how she had? She'd never been face-to-face with a being like me before. Honestly, her reaction should have been predictable. It was why I showed myself so seldom. She was such a brief thing, after all. It was hard to face the reality behind the veil. She would be here a heartbeat and then pass on. My end would be different, the slow silt of years would be what finished me, the slow reduction of who I was by gentle inexorable erosion.... I sighed. I envied her. I envied her youth, her lack of memories, her freedom to be whatever she wished to be. I could not leave this valley without losing all that made me me. Oh, I'd toyed with the idea, of course. I'd nearly done it for Callista, shortly before the fall of Rome... but she'd chosen

marriage to Marcus Lucretius in the end and had left me forever for Messina and the sea, and, eventually, the fields of Elysium. And... somehow down the long years since I hadn't thought about it again, despite the occasional lovers I'd found and lost along the way... until now. Daniella... Midnight's daughter. Dark, beautiful, sweet as honey... She had sunk to her knees in the mud; softly sobbing. I watched her wipe her eyes. She was so warm, so alive. And so quick to anger; she had a fire in her that was so opposite to me that I couldn't help but want her. My waters lapped against the stones along the shore. I knew each and every one of them as intimately as my own skin. They were the walls of my home. The walls of my prison. And now I desperately yearned to be free of them. I took a breath and sighed it out. And then I stepped slowly down towards her, the fabric of my loose linen tunic teasing against my skin, my bare feet barely sinking into the dry sand beneath them. "Hello, Dani," I breathed, only slightly louder than my ripples. She jerked, leaped up and spun to face me. She was pale, eyes wide. "Dani..." I paused, cleared my throat, then tried again. "Daniella, why are you here?" Her mouth opened but no words came out. "Have you come here to strike me again? Here, then," I said. "Here is my other cheek. Strike me again if you must," I whispered. "It will hurt me more than it will hurt you; that I promise you." She took a sobbing breath, but still said nothing.

"Why are you here, Dani?" I repeated.. "Is it to just stand there and stare at the woman who wronged you? Well, here I am. I am sorry, for what little comfort that is now." "I... needed to see you," she gasped, at last. "Dio santo, I am crazy to be here, but..." "Why? Why do you need to see me? You left me lying in the dust, Daniella. You... left me," I managed, trying not to let the pain of the words break me. "Because I was angry!" she shouted. "I was angry with you! Isea! You... you lied to me! About everything! What the fuck are you? Who the fuck are you? Why... why are you haunting my every waking thought like you are? I cannot eat, I cannot sleep, I am crying all the time! Why! Why did you do this to me? I was alone before I met you, and I'd made peace with that! I was okay! And... and now I'm not okay! Not at all! I had you and the joy of you for a heartbeat, at most two, and I was stupid enough to hope that it was finally my time to have something more! Why! Why did you do this to me? Why? What did I ever do to you to deserve this? Dio cane, why couldn't you just have left me alone! Isea, answer me! Why must I be so possessed by you!" "Because I love you," I answered, when I could. "Love? Love! You're... you're a spirit, a demon, you can not..." Her words stumbled to a halt and she covered her mouth, as if horrified by what she'd just said to me. I fought down the sob; I would not cry. Not here, not now. Later, when I was alone, when she'd left... maybe then. Instead, I turned away from her and stared out at my body and the mountains that cupped me and at the sacred island I in turn carried. ""I'm actually a saint, you know," I whispered, when I could speak again. I cleared my throat, continued more forcefully. "It's farcical. Your Church did that to me in the fifteenth century. Saint Isea of the still waters. Nobody asked me if I wanted to be a saint. I preferred just being me. It's hard enough already... just being me." She swallowed. "Are you going to... kill me?" she whispered.

"What?" I gasped, spinning back to face her. "Are you going to kill me? Drown me, pull me down... into the black... depths? Water... things... always do that... in the books..." She was shaking, stammering with fear. I stared at her, too shocked, too hurt by the question to even laugh at the absurdity of it. "... Why would I ever do that? I've never done that to anyone, not even when the warlords made their blood offerings on the western shore and threw their gutted captives into the water. No. No, Daniella. I don't kill. I'm..." I sighed. How to explain this to someone who didn't know the tales, who hadn't grown up knowing with every breath that creatures like me were everywhere? "Listen. Just... please, listen to me. I'm what the Hellenes called a Naiad. A spirit of the flowing waters. I don't take life," I declared, almost insulted by the idea. "I give it. All the plants, all the trees that surround me, all the animals that graze on my banks... all the beautiful people like you that live near me. I could never harm you, Daniella. Neither willingly nor wilfully. It would be betraying everything that I am." "I'm mad. I'm going mad," she whispered. She clutched her head in her hands. "Oh sacred blood of Mary, I'm going crazy like Nana Isabella did. It's the only possibility. Why! Why me? Why did you choose to torment me? Why did you have to come into my bar and... into my head and my heart and... and seduce me like that? I was content. I was alone, and not happy, but I was doing okay!" she added, voice trembling. "I'd made peace with being like this, with being unlovable and having nobody to love. Why, Isea? I would have been okay. I was okay until I met you. Now... everything is broken. Why me? Of everyone, why did you have to choose me?" she whispered. "Because you're special. Because you're gentle. Because of the way you touch me. How you smile and laugh when you're... in me," I admitted, blushing at the double meaning of the latter. "I don't wander much any more. I can't. Men dammed my headwaters and my outflows, and people don't believe in beings like me these days. Your books and your strange machines have... have killed most of us; you've pinned our names to parchment and paper for men and women to scoff at or bicker over in their debates. My sisters are long gone. I'm the last of us that I still know

of. There may be others like me, but even if there are then they are beyond my water's fetch." I took a long, slow breath, and risked stepped closer. She didn't back away like I'd feared she would. "Humanity is old, Daniella. You are old and powerful. You believe as easily as you breathe, sometimes. Your ancestors made me, crafted me and others like me to help them to make sense of the spite of the natural world they could not control. My sisters and I... we were the gentle ones, the kind ones, the ones who brought food and water and plentiful game. Your daughters used to throw flowers into my waters for me - little field blossoms, sprigs of fragrant herbs to keep me sweet and benevolent. I liked that..." I stared down at my hands, thinking of all the faces I'd known over the long and bitter years. "It is so lonely," I whispered. "Being the last. So... I walk my narrowed and diminished world, and watch the beautiful people, and... very occasionally, reach out to the ones who can still see me. Not everyone does; not really. It's only the ones like you, the ones who still have the old names written in their souls, who will sit somewhere here and still really look at me. You, Daniella - you sit on benches or by the water's edge. You're always looking at me. You watch me dance, watch me sing, watch my moods written in the waves and the rain that falls on my face. You... swim in my waters and laugh and rejoice at my touch. You give me your time, your love, your praise. How could I not love you back with everything that I am in return? I am what I am. How could you not expect that of me? " My voice had gone husky on me; I could once more feel the threatening tears. Out beyond us, my ripples became waves under the evening breeze, and Venus gleamed low in the darkening sky. She stared at me, her perfect forehead marred by the frown she wore, her eyes red from the hurt I'd caused her. The silence stretched out between; the moon slowly rose beyond the south-eastern peaks. High and cold, fair Selene glittered, casting her mournful, thoughtful gaze down on me. I turned to face her; to bow my head and raise my arms to her in praise as I always did.

But this time, also, in contrition for my sin. "Forgive me," I whispered. And then my skin flashed pale, my hair to spun silver, lighting me like a beacon in the darkness. "Oh Holy Mother of God," Daniella whispered behind me, awed. I stared up at Selene; my heart aching with bittersweet longing. The Great mother had bestowed her kiss as she sometimes deigned to do. She, too, missed the old ways, when men and women stood on the heights and sang her praise, and when I and my sisters raised our arms and bowed our heads before her glory. And she'd always had a soft spot for my lovers. "See?" I said softly. "She laughs at us, at you and me and this squabble between us. She sees this little dance I do for you. It's an old dance. Older than names. And so she laughs at us and shines on my waters and I reflect part of her. From bronze I change to silver. And I am loved. For a moment or two... I know that I am still loved." I sighed, and blew a kiss up to Selene. My skin and hair faded slowly back to what they had been before. "Even Selene weakens and fades," I mourned. "Men have forgotten her. Your astronomers name the marks on her face, like... like teenagers looking for moles and freckles on their favourite model's cunt." She flinched at the word. I glanced at her over my shoulder. "You do not see her, just her body, and even that is just a curiosity now. Facts pinned to pages. Not deep truths that you feel in your bones. And the same applies to me." I lowered my arms. I let my tunic dissolve. Now I turned to face her and stood there as I truly was - naked and alone. She made a soft noise and clenched her fists; she stared - at my small, pale breasts, at the bare curves of my mound of Venus and my labia and then caught herself and met my gaze again. "I am Isea, Daniella" I whispered. "I have had other names, but that is the one I have always loved most. Tarquinius named me thus - back when the world was still bright and young. But now I am alone. The

Hellenes are gone, the Etruscans too, the Legions and the Pax Romana are no more. I stand here before you as a shadow of what I was. Nobody remembers me, nobody throws flowers in my waters for me. I am forgotten. And yet, I live, and I remain. I am Isea. Look at me. Please... just look at me," I begged, desperate with the longing to just belong, even if for a moment. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips just open in that perfect manner she had; she seemed stunned by the words I'd spoken. "Am I not pretty enough for you?" I whispered. "What? No! I mean, yes! Yes, you are!", she gasped in confusion. "You are! Of course you are! But..." "But I am not human," I said, softly, mournful. "And... and I suppose that is a causeway you will not..." "No! No, it's not that... it's..." She clutched herself. "What?" I said at last. "What is it?" "I will die," she whispered. She bit back a sob. "I will die, and you will not. That will always be a wall between us. How? How could I do that to you, knowing that you would be left behind when I am gone? How can I do that to you?" The chill in my heart melted. She was trying to... to protect me! Even now, even after how I'd hurt her. I spread my arms wide, palms open, encompassing everything of me. "All things die, Daniella. Even me. Another century, or perhaps two if I'm unlucky and linger. My waters grow shallow. I... dwindle." "No!" She gasped, horror-struck. "No! Can't something... be done?" I tried to be gentle, but the truth would be anything but. "Oh, you could dredge me I suppose, and take my silt and put it on the fields, and take my sands and build more buildings with them, and take my stones and line the causeways and the roads with them, or, better yet, use them for your pretty ornamental fountains so that they are still kissed in some way by living water..."

Her eyes darted to the distant lights of Iseo, and her mouth dropped open again as she made the connection. "We're... killing you," she moaned. She covered her mouth with her hands in horror, as if trying to call back the words so they wouldn't become real. "You and Time - both by slow degrees. It happens. That which giveth taketh also away. So yes. Not as soon as you, my love, but some day soon, I will die. And no pretty woman will be there to mourn me. I will not even be a name in a forgotten book." "I'd mourn you," she said, her voice cracking. "You won't even want me any more. You struck me. You pushed me away." The spark of anger flared in her eyes - and the sheen of new tears. She bit her lip hard and took a slow breath as if to calm herself. I felt a sharp pain in my chest; I'd been cruel. "I'm... sorry," I gasped. I squeezed my eyes closed, furious with myself. "I'm sorry, Daniella. That was unkind and unfair. You didn't deserve that. What happened was my doing; I lied to you and that is... false to who I should be. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for... seducing you. I'm sorry for hurting you the way I did. I'm sorry for... for destroying your happiness. I regret this. I... I just wanted to belong, for a little while longer. To be touched, to be held once more before I... faded." A silence fell between us, broken only by the whisper of my waves. Then she broke the spell; she moved, wiped her eyes, gave an unlovely sniff. "What do you want to eat?" she said. "I... what?" For only the third time in my millenniae of existence someone had asked me something that genuinely surprised me. "What do you want me to get you to eat?" she repeated, louder this time. She wiped her eyes again. "Do you eat peppers? How about tomatoes?

Olives? Pasta? Fuck... what I'm... what I'm trying... oh Mother of God. This is stupid. I'm stupid, words are stupid..." She took a breath and pressed her palms hard to her temples. "Let me try this again," she said, voice soft and shaking. "Isea, we need to set some... rules..." "Some... rules?" I repeated, still not understanding her at all. "We have things we need to talk about. Things we need to agree on. Things you need to... to explain to me - about you, about how we'll work. If we'll even work now. I want us to work. I... you... you're the first woman who's held me like that, the first who's kissed me like that. Nobody else I've been with has ever wanted more than just my... my cunt. You... you made me believe that you wanted more. Did you? No. Wait. Don't answer yet. I am not going to ask that question on an empty stomach. I can't. I haven't eaten today. And I can't think when I'm hungry or sad and right now I'm both. So. Again. What would you like to eat, while we... talk? About us? And... maybe... oh God, I hope... where we go from here? I stared at her. I struggled to find words at first. "Olives?" I hesitantly admitted, at last. "I like olives. And... fruit. Grapes. I love grapes. And... but no, it doesn't matter, you won't find them..." "Find what?" she breathed, taking half a step closer. "Pomegranates," I managed to somehow say, heart almost breaking at the memories. "They... you... you don't grow them here. Not any more. And... and oranges. I haven't had an orange in so long... I can barely remember them now..." She made a soft sound and reached out to cup my bruised cheek; I closed my eyes as I tried to fix the memory of her touch forever. "I will find them for you," she whispered. "Don't... hah. I was about to say, don't go anywhere." She took a deep breath and took my hand. Her expression was haunted... but she clasped my hand tightly in hers and curled her fingers possessively around it. I stared up into her dark eyes and nearly forgot myself in the warmth of them. "Oh," I breathed.

"I don't know what I'm doing, or why I'm doing this, or why... you captivate me so," she muttered. "I should run. Everything screams I should run, and find a priest... or a fucking psychiatrist, and..." She sighed. Her shoulders slumped. "Promise me you won't kill me," she whispered. "Please, Isea. Promise me. Swear it by... by Selene's name." I leaned forward and kissed her cheek; she shivered. "People have drowned in me, Dani," I said. "It is tragic, but it happens. But I have never pulled them down. I tried to save those I could; and sometimes I managed. But were it you in my waters?" I kissed her left eyelid, and then her right, and she whimpered. "Daniella - I swear this in Selene's name. I would part my waters and carry you to shore and lay your head upon my breast and guard you until you woke. If it took until the last star burned out and golden Helios fell into Thalassa... I would hold you until then and beyond. If it took until my waters were dry and my body crumbled to dust, still I would hold you and guard you." She brushed at her eyes with the side of her hand. "You're crazy," she mumbled at last. "I'm not worth that." "Yes you are," I gently disagreed. "And more. So - by Selene, the Great mother, by my waters, by moon and star and sky - I promise not to kill you... unless it's unintentionally - like, perhaps, by too much love, or perhaps too many orgasms..." Her lips twitched upwards as if she were trying not to smile. She shifted, took a breath. "Okay. Fuck. Okay, I'm mad to... to even do this. But okay." She took another breath and let out an explosive puff that kicked her curls away from her lips. She stared at me for a moment... then stepped forward and pulled me to her and hugged me fiercely; my pathetic bleat of need escaped me as I curled in against her with my heart thumping hard in my ears.

"Put something on," she whispered. She released me and stepped back so that she could look me up and down. "You may not get cold, but you're making me cold standing there naked like that. It's... too distracting. I'll... I'll just go to the market. It's just a little way back towards Predore and it... it should still be open. Would you like some wine as well? I mean... to share? With me?" "I would love to share wine with you. Especially if it is the red from Villa Elisa. Please," I said. "But... Dani, my money is in my chest. I have some Euros in me, and I could bring them here... but most of the coins I have in me are all far too old..." "You can talk to me and tell me everything, and then we will be even," she answered. "We can work the rest out later. Stay here. Don't move. I... I don't know how to find you if you're not here. I can't find you if you won't show yourself to me." "I will stay here," I said. "There is nowhere else for me to be. But for future reference - touch my waters and say my name and I will come to you. I will always, always come to you." She darted in; her kiss was brief and rushed, and her cheeks flushed hot as she broke away. "Stay here," she gasped again, desperately. "Please. Wait for me. And for the love of God put your dress back on, or I'm not going to be responsible for the consequences." I clothed myself in my tunic, and slowly lowered myself onto the sand; I felt entirely disturbed and deliciously light-headed; my lips still tingled from her touch. "I will be here," I whispered. Then I laughed sadly. "I have nowhere else I can be any more." She watched me for a moment longer before she turned and loped off into the gloom. A short time later a scooter coughed to life and roared off into the darkness; her trusty Lambretta carrying her through the night. And I closed my eyes and raised my face and let Selene's gentle approval wash me clean of my sadness. It seemed both ages and minutes before Daniella returned; she was breathing hard from running the short distance from where she'd parked.

She carried two small paper bags and wouldn't let me see what was in them. I tried not to show the relief I felt that she'd returned, that she hadn't reconsidered and simply elected to carry on running. It would have been the wiser choice, I thought. But my lover was impulsive. I stood and embraced her and felt the panted little curse she let out deep within me. "Where can we sit? That's secluded, I mean?" she gasped, shaking from her mad dash back. "This is... too open." I didn't even have to look. "Thirty strides that way is a spot between two junipers. The ground is dry and the pebbles are small and flat. It is too sandy for scorpions. It is sheltered and will still be warm there; you will not get cold." "But... what about you?" she asked as we began walking. "You're barely dressed. You'll catch a chill." "I don't feel the cold much. And I don't get ill. Not like you." "It must be nice. I hate being cold." "Oh... it has its perks. For example, I don't have to worry about nipple stand," I added, innocently. She scowled at me; I stared back. Her lips twitched; she was trying hard not to laugh. "I can't help it," she said. "It's just... how they are. Even when it's warm. And right now... well, you're a lot to blame. I hope the view is... nice, at least." "It is a nice view," I agreed. "Your breasts are lovely. They are almost my favourite part of you." "Stop that, Isea," she breathed. She moved in closer and barged me gently with her hip. "Stop putting thoughts into my head before we've... made up properly. You've got work to do before you can take liberties with me again. And so do I," she said, softer and rueful. She took a breath. "Where are we going?"

"Here. Look - watch out for that rock, it is loose. I caught her arm and steadied her, then helped her onto the soft silver sand. "... Oh. Oh Isea. This spot is beautiful. Oh holy Mary, this is..." She stared out in rapture at the moonlight on my waters, framed on either side by the ancient arms of the Junipers. "It is perfect," she whispered. "I like this place," I agreed. "At full moon I still come here sometimes. People used to get married here, on this part of the shore. I have many good memories of this place." She followed my slow steps down to the water's edge and sat down beside me. "If we're quiet, nobody will know we're here unless they stop and listen," I said. "The grass and the fall of the bank shelter us from view, and and the waves and the rustle of the trees and grasses muffles us. So..." "So we're completely screened?" she said, softly. "Nobody can see us? No matter what?" "Yes. We are alone..." I squeaked as she leaned in and kissed me, and writhed as she placed her hand deliberately on my upper inner thigh, her fingertips almost but not quite brushing against my mons. "Sorry... oh, oh wow, oh... sorry," she panted, when she finally released me. "It's just... I had to do that. I had to kiss you; I can't... I can't hold back. I know we need to talk, and I know it's all a mess..." Her words slowed and stopped as I leaned my head against her shoulder and slipped my hand into the warm, sheltered alcove of her lap. "I like how passionate you are," I whispered. "I like the fire in you. It's... nice. You're... nice. Oh, look," I laughed. "See, you disturbed my calm." She stared out at the gentle set of waves that were travelling outwards, away from shore. "Hah. Does that mean you... forgive me?" "I thought that was obvious, Daniella. It's you who needs to forgive me, now."

"I do. I forgive you, of course I forgive you... it's been awful. A disaster. I've been... crying like a girl, these past few nights." "Why?" I said. "Because. Because I thought... I thought I'd ruined everything. And I was so angry with you, and with me, and with... all of it. The strangeness - it terrified me, Isea. You're a goddess, for... for God's sake! All this still... terrifies me. All the old stories are true. All these unknowns are suddenly out there. But... but the worst...." She took a shuddering breath and scrabbled for my hand. "But... the worst was feeling that I'd... hurt you. I did hurt you," she added, as she brushed at the bruise on my cheek. "I can't... I can't believe I hit you. I will never, ever forgive myself..." "You didn't chase me away. I am the water, I always return to where I am wanted. If I'm permitted to," I added, softly. She made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "I still think I may be going crazy," she whispered, after some time. "Perhaps. Perhaps you have to be a little insane to truly see what's there. The best priests were all as mad as snakes." "Thanks. I think." She leaned her head against mine and I sighed. "Isea?" "Yes?" "I have something for you," she said. "But first... you must close your eyes for me." "Why?" "Because I want you to." So I did as she asked. Paper rustled, and I felt her arms and shoulders moving as she shifted beside me. Then... the dimly-remembered scent of citrus on the night air. I couldn't help the sound I made, the little moan that escaped me.

"Oranges," I gasped. "You... you brought me oranges." She went still, then fumbled for and found my hand so that she could squeeze it hard. "And a pomegranate," she breathed. "The best one I could find. It is perfect and ripe. Here," she said, as she placed it in my hand. I took an agonised breath. She hardly knew me, and I'd lied to her, and been false... and yet she still brought me treasures fit for queens... "Oh. Oh, Dani..." I somehow managed, through the biting, cramping pain in my heart. To be blessed like this... I loved this woman with everything that I was. "But there's something else," she continued. "Here. I bought these for you. Smell this." I brushed my tears away and tried to calm myself as she lifted something and presented it to me. A new scent. Something sharp, something strange. Something I didn't know; something I couldn't place at all. "What is that?" I whispered, my throat still tight, my eyes still shimmering. "Passion fruit," she answered. "Here. Open your mouth and no peeking; there's enough light and I want to watch your expression... I have a spoon, it's plastic. Don't jerk, I don't want to spill..." And then golden fire and the fierce joy of Spring enfolded me. "Oh," I whispered, when I could. "You're... crying," she said. "Isea... why are you crying?" "It's... I'm..." "Come here. It's okay, I didn't mean..." And she gathered me onto her lap as I sobbed and clung to her. "Sorry," I managed at last. "It's just... it's so seldom I... encounter anything new. It has been so long. Thank you. Thank you," I gasped.

"Here," she said. "Here, wipe your eyes on this. So... you liked that?" "No," I whispered. "I adored it." I shuddered, curling my toes and twisting my ankles to try and distract myself from the tingles that were echoing and reverberating throughout me. "It... words... words aren't enough. Is... where is it? Can I see?" "There's not much to look at, especially in the dark. It's... bright yellow inside, like glistening liquid sunlight, and the outer skin is purple with strange green hues - a white fleshy pulp separates both. If you were to see it it uncut, it would look completely unappetising. But... open it, and the treasure is revealed. This is supposedly from the slopes of Stromboli itself, but that's probably a lie. But they are my favourite fruit." "They might be mine now too," I sighed. "Passion fruit. It is well-named. Is there... more?" "Yes. Here," she said, teeth white in the darkness as she smiled. "Oh. Oh, it is amazing. But... Daniella, sweetheart... don't you want some too?" "Mm. Do you know what? I think I do, yes." And then she leaned in and kissed me; I melted against her, forgetting all else but the sense of her against me. "There," she said, in a breathless whisper, once she was quite done with me. "Now I've had some as well." I started to giggle, and she started to laugh, and then, not very much later at all, she kissed me again. She held me to her for what felt like hours, and I could feel her pulse against me, the life within me thrumming tightly as she teased her fingers back and forth through my hair. She sang softly to me; her voice was low and smokey and utterly captivating, and I stared at the reflection of the moon-tinged juniper leaves in her eyes. But at last she began to shiver. "You should go," I said. "It is late. I wish I could walk you home, but... I think you live beyond my reach."

"I wish I could take you home with me," she whispered. "I wish I could wrap you in my arms and warm you and wake with you still there." "Mm." I reached out, trailed my fingertip along her eyebrow. She shifted, then groaned. "We need to plan better," she sighed. "I don't want a kink in my back every time I lie beside you." She rolled over and reached out, and the fingers of her hand slipped under the linen of my tunic and found and cupped my breast. I moaned softly, writhed against her as she slowly trailed her warm skin over me. "That is not fair," I panted. "You're... cheating. You said I had... work to do first..." "I fight dirty for the women I like," she whispered. She leaned in and kissed my throat. "I hope I'm making myself clear." "Crystal," I groaned. "And... and now you're going to send me out into the night... unsatisfied? Is that it?" "Fair is fair. I will be suffering too. Think of it as... penance. For your many... transgressions." "Oh. How long must I suffer?" "Until tomorrow. I must work. Perhaps afterwards... we could come back here, better prepared..." Her hand crept downwards over my belly; I shuddered. "I'd... like that," I gasped. "Dani, Dani, that is... no, you... oh. Oh..." "You always feel so good," she groaned. "So perfectly smooth, so hot, so wet. No! No, I will be good tonight." And she sighed and pulled away, leaving me panting as her hand gently brushed over and away from me. I sat up and stared down at her. Then I shivered, once; ripples spreading outward from the shore into my depths.

I stared at my lover, and sighed. "You are cold, I am distracted. Home is what waits for both of us. Come. I can wait a day for you. I can wait forever for you." I lifted her to her feet, and we picked up the peels of the oranges and the empty halves of the passion fruit that she'd fed me. She packed them and the remains of the glass jar of olives; the cheese and the bread she'd ravaged into one of the paper packets. She picked up the second and stood there, watching me for a moment. "My scooter is parked up on the road," she said. "If someone hasn't stolen it." "I will walk with you." I took her arm in mine and did just that. And I stood there in the moonlight, watching placidly as she pulled her helmet onto her head. "Thank you for... for being brave. For coming back to me. For... giving me a chance." "You are worth it. Don't ever lie to me again." "I won't. I can't." "Okay. See you tomorrow." "I can't wait." She kissed her fingers and reached out to touch my cheek, then turned and threw her leg over her rusty Lambretta. It coughed into life; she blew me another kiss and then eased off and away. "Thank you, Great mother," I whispered to Selene's waning face. I made my way home, skirting my waters and walking up the bank by my cave - still carrying the brown paper packet that held my precious Pomegranate. I placed the fruit on my bedside table. I squatted on my haunches in the sand, lit a small fire, and sat staring into it until it burned down to ashes. And then I crawled into the nest of blankets on my bed.

I fumbled my heart-stone in my hand and, clutching it tightly, fell down into deep, dreamless sleep. 🙙🝢🙛 The days became weeks, and she became the very center of my world. Every morning I'd wake, and eat a few grapes, and then carefully check whether any of the pomegranate seeds I'd planted had broken through the soil and into the light. Then I'd slowly make the rounds around my house, checking on all my plants, before I'd finally allow myself to make my way to the beach. And then I'd sit there on the sand, content to wait for her. Some days it would just be her, some days it would be the group. I was welcome among them, and I'd sit beside her and laugh and talk and thus, slowly, established myself as her partner - not just as her summer lover. Daniella would hold my hand - gently but constantly, and she'd often turn to smile at me as I or others were talking. But my favourite days were the days when it was just she and I. We'd grown comfortable with one another. Making love had become a game rather than a frantic expression of lust. I'd sit beside her, watching as the wind toyed with her curls. She had a way of smiling with her eyes that I adored, and she loved to listen to my little tales of the things that all the long ago people had done in and around me. And she'd started to come and spend nights with me - not every night, but enough to matter. She'd bring me wine and bread and fruits, and we'd sit in the firelight, thigh to warm thigh, and she'd feed me and I'd feed her, and once she was sated I'd tell her my tales until she kissed me to still me. And then her lips would move to other parts of me, and I'd tangle my fingers in her hair and scream her name. I could not ever remember being this happy; this at peace. Not even in the long-ago dawn of time, when I'd been young and the people who'd worshipped me had been even younger; when times had been simple

and I could roam the pine forests and the rolling meadows beyond the sunset. I felt loved. I felt... wanted. I felt that I belonged. And so, it seemed, did she. She began to bring me things - a potted plant from her parent's garden, a painting she'd done of sunset over hills I did not know, a small modern mirror... Little treasures, just for me. But one morning, maybe a month and a bit after we'd reconciled, she had something other than sun, water and sex on her mind. "You need to write your stories down, sweetheart," she proclaimed. "You should write that book you said you'd write." And I sighed, and mused on the idea. "I suppose I could. But... why?" "Other people would love to read it. And... I think it would be good for you. To... record some of your memories." "Mm. That's sombre." She leaned in and nuzzled my ear. "Think of Ovid," she said. "If he'd never written anything down, most of those stories would have been lost to us by now." "Mm. I'll... need to get paper, I suppose." "I'll bring you one of my notebooks and some pens," she said, enthusiasm pinking her cheeks. "You can dedicate your first book to me." "My first book, is it now?" "Yes," she laughed. "You tell beautiful stories. And I'd like having a book dedicated to me. Especially if it was yours. "

"Is a goddess who is dedicated to you not enough?" "Mm. I like having my own dedicated goddess. Especially when that goddess is a literal goddess like you. But... I'm nothing if not greedy," she added. "Greedy? Really?" I pushed her back into the sand; she squealed and laughed as I clambered onto her. "No! No, get off me!" she shrieked. She wriggled and fought, but I had her trapped under me, and soon enough she surrendered. "You think I'll give in? I'll never give in mfh..." I muffled her protests with my slow, languid kisses, and felt the way she reacted. arching her belly up against me. And then, pleased, I nestled in against her and laid my head on her arm. "That's... not fair..." she panted. "You're too distracting. Wow. I need to catch my breath now..." Her mood changed again; she was a changeable creature. I watched the grin fade and her eyes narrow and darken. She rolled over to stare at me. "Isea," she said. "Mm?" "My University term starts soon." "Oh. Really?" "Yes." I sighed. "How soon will I lose you?" "Ten days." "Oh." "What are you thinking?" she whispered, after I'd been silent for quite some time. "I'm... trying not to."

"Oh. So..." "I don't want you to leave me," I whispered. She leaned in to touch her head to mine; I shifted in tighter as she brushed my cheek with her finger. "I have to go back. That doesn't mean I want to. I don't want to leave you either. I wish I could pick you up and carry you with me." "My heart-stone cannot leave this valley. And I cannot leave without it now." She frowned. "Your... heart-stone? What do you mean? What is that?" "It's... call it my core. Or my soul. It holds my oldest name. Some...shaggy priest of the moon - back in the dawn of days - carved it onto a stone and threw it far out into the waters... and I was born. It cannot leave here or..." And I shrugged. I didn't need to say the words; she knew I meant that I would die. "Oh," she said, in a small voice. "So... so there's really no way? You're... trapped here? You're a prisoner?" "No. There is a way. There is a way I could leave." "What is it?" she demanded. "Tell me, please - let me help you!" I listened to the gentle ripples of my waves. I remembered the last time I had told a lover this. I remembered the... the hope I'd felt. And then, later, the crushing despair when she'd fled from me for the... familiarity of a human man. "Isea? What is it, sweetheart? You... you went so still there..." "I could... become mortal," I breathed, at last. She seemed to freeze. "What?"

"I could break my heart-stone. I'd... become a mortal woman. I'd age, and in the end I'd die." "You can do that?" she whispered. She sounded aghast at the idea. "Yes. Daphne did it. Long ago." The pain bit deep into my heart; I shuddered. "Daphne? Who was she?" "My sister," I somehow managed to say. And I had to squeeze my eyes tightly together against the stabbing agony of the memories. Daniella gently took my hand and held it to her, just above her heart. Her eyes were full of my reflected pain. "Tell me," she breathed. "She... broke her heart-stone for a young boy - the son of the Quaestor. But his father rejected their love match and threatened to disown his son. The boy was intended for the daughter of a wealthy family in Rome, see? Daphne..." I stopped, took a sobbing breath. "Daphne despaired, and drank hemlock and died - alone, on the banks of the river that was once her body. I couldn't get to her. I tried... but I couldn't get to her." "Oh Isea," she breathed. "Oh, I am so sorry..." I took a slow breath as I thought about my sister. Her gentle face, the jetblack hair, the green of her eyes. Still as clear as if it had been yesterday. Then I sighed it out. "Times have changed since then. Now, there is no escape for things like me, Dani. Apollo, Diana... even great Athena herself have passed on to wherever the Gods go when you forget them. They no longer roam the hills to save us by changing beings like us into a tree, or a rock, or a spring. If we take this step we must be sure, and we must chose wisely. Daphne... didn't. It is a bitter truth, but that is how it is."

"That is a... horrible choice," she said. "With... with nothing in life being certain, how could someone choose to do that..." "I would break my heart-stone for you, Dani." I heard the soft intake of her breath, felt the way she shuddered, the way her fingers tightened spasmodically against my ribs. "No," she whispered at last. "No. No way. I'm not worth that. I would never let you harm yourself like that for me. Never in a million years, Isea..." "It's not your choice. It's mine. And... I'm not saying I'm going to do it. Just that, for you - I would. I would become a mortal girl for you. " I felt her shudder again; I heard her working hard to swallow the tears. "Dani?" "Yes?" she sniffed, after a long, heavy silence. "How often will I see you once you leave this place?" She paused for a breath at most. "It's two and a half hours from Bologna by train and bus. I will come back every two weeks. I can't afford to do it more often." I sighed and moved in against her. "It's a poor comparison to every day, but far better than never." "It's easier for you. I'm the one who'd be leaving my heart behind in this valley." I opened my eyes and stared into hers. "What are you trying to tell me?" "I think... Isea, I think I love you," she whispered. "You... told me, wow, it feels like ages ago, that you would begin to lose your heart to me? Well... the same seems to be true. I think I love you. You've changed me, you've changed my life. You've shown me what it feels like to belong. So... I've never been in love before. But... I think I am, now." "I know I love you," I retorted. "But I'll forgive you your indecision for now," I teased.

I threw my arm over her and pulled myself in tightly against her. "You'd better keep your promise to come and visit me." "You'd better be waiting here for me when I do," she breathed. "You know I will be." I squeezed her once and released her. Then I sat up and shook the sand from myself. "Come swim with me," I said. "You meant, come swim in me," she pointed out. She sat up and wiped her eyes. "Stop being a pedant. And stop being difficult." "That's like... telling the sun to rise in the west. I am difficult, Isea. Very. But I do try my best not to be." I reached down and pulled her to her feet, then wrapped my arms around her and pressed in against her as she enfolded me in her embrace. "I'll help you," I whispered. We released one another, turned, and walked out into my waters. She laughed suddenly, and turned to me, smiling once more. "Isea... there's something I need to tell you that I just thought of. But it's very... inappropriate." "You can tell me anything, Dani. Especially if it's inappropriate." "Fine. Here it is. I just want you to know that it's... weird... knowing that you're beside me right now. But at the same time you're also slowly climbing up my inner thighs to my pussy. You're making me wet, Isea," she said, eyes wide and innocent. I snorted with laughter. "You're right; that was inappropriate. Oh well - I have always have liked touching you there. So... just take a hint and come inside me," I added, in a soft and sultry whisper, deliberately using the double entendre.

And she laughed, and leaned in to kiss me and, eventually, did as I'd suggested. Twice. 🙙🝢🙛 The days drew down. Mighty Helios climbed noticeably lower each noon. I kept a running tally of kisses, of embraces, storing them in some internal vessel to tide me over while she was gone. She brought me something on her final evening - a set of notebooks, some pens, and a worn hard-cover book - brown leather, decorated only with the silver-embossed title of "Odyssey" set into the cover page and the spine. Inside she'd written a brief, poignant message to me, closed with three X's that she told me stood for the kisses she'd be missing out on. I cried when she left; so did she. But I had her book as a keepsake of hers. I moped at first; sitting by the shore, staring out at my demesne, at a complete loss for the first time in my life. Daniella had wormed her way deep into me. I missed her with an intensity that I couldn't even put into cohesive thoughts, let alone words. And so one morning I began to read her book, and somehow the ancient names kindled something in me and inspired me to do as Dani had begged me to do. My story would die. The people who I'd known and loved would flicker out of history, their names never to be spoken again. I could take some small action to prevent that. So I took up a notebook and set pen to paper for the very first time. And the words began to flow from me. I slept, sometimes, and I daydreamed of my lover, but in between that the words poured out of me - about Tanaquil, my long-lost queen, and how she'd startled me one morning in the mist. How she'd known who and what I was from the first breath I'd spoken, and how we'd slowly

formed a friendship and then, later, an attachment that had lasted until the winter of her years had finally closed on her. I couched it all in fiction, of course. I embellished, took some minor liberties with timelines. I created a tale where no real complexity had really existed - Tanaquil had been competent and her rule had been secure. But, as Dani had told me, I was a good story-teller. And the days passed as in a slow dream. I missed my lover with a constant ache under my ribs, and in the dark nights of the new moon I'd lie awake, thinking of her eyes, and her lips, and her smile. I hoped she was thinking of me, somewhere out there, by the faint glimmer of the stars above us. And I agonised over what kind of future I might, perhaps, have with her. To walk Daphne's path was an act of madness - fraught with mortal peril. And yet... Daniella had come back to me. Despite my lies, despite the terror I'd caused her... she'd come back. I'd lie there, and stare at the angular runes on my heart-stone, and try to envision a life where I could walk the wide world under strange stars. Daphne's choice was deadly, no matter what occurred I would die at the end of it. But it offered me the chance of years of happiness before that day. If I stayed... Daniella would age, and wither; I would outlive her, and carry one more beautiful face onwards until I was no more. If I left... the risk was there that I would die alone. Selene's face was waxing to its first quarter on the night I reached my decision. I sat, sleepless by my water's edge. I was thinking of unlucky Ariadne, and the terrible, doomed desire for Theseus that had driven her to break her vows and flee the court of Minos...

Had she, too, been a prisoner? Had Theseus been her desperate method to escape? I doubted Ariadne had thought it worth it, when she stood, watching the sails of Theseus's ship drop over the horizon. I played with my nervous fingers, then raised my eyes to the Great Mother above us all. "What do I do?" I begged her. "If I stay here, I will fade in the end, whether this year or the next. If I go... I will die as a mortal - whether this year or the next. If I stay, I will see her - sometimes, until she grows old or... leaves me. If I go... it will be the same. What should I do?" Selene stared mournfully down at me. I sighed, then looked away. It was unfair to ask her to waste her strength on me. She'd already done too much... "If I leave," I whispered, "I will never be able to return. And I might end up like Daphne - living with regret until I cannot any longer. I adore Daniella. I... desire her. I want to be with her forever. I would give up everything for her. But... who can predict what next year will bring? But then again... that is their way, isn't it? They are such brief things, they burn like beacons and then..." ‷... do you love her, child?‴ My breath caught in my throat; I stared upwards at her, stunned and humbled that she spent so much to speak to me. "Yes," I breathed. "Yes, I do. With all that I am." ‷... then go, child. Live and love and know that I will love you still...‴ I clasped myself and sat there, too stunned to think or speak or move for what felt like an age of the world. Then, finally, I took a shuddering breath. I scrambled awkwardly to my knees and knelt and bowed low to her in gratitude. ‷... do not forget me...‴ she whispered. And I kissed my fingers and, sobbing, raised them up to her. "How could I?" I cried. "You are my mother, after all."

I stayed there, staring at her, until Selene's face had sunk below the western ridges. Then, tired and uncharacteristically chilled, I rose from my knees and made my way to my cave. I made my bed, and turned the blankets back against the cold of the night. I picked up my heart-stone and stared at the angular pictoglyphs chiselled roughly round the circumference of the the water-worn hole in the middle. My True name. My locus. My binding to this place. I closed my eyes, and thought of my lover, and broke my heart-stone in two. The snap was soft in the darkness, but carried a weighty finality nontheless. The chill of the night air suddenly stung my skin; the shadows outside darkened. I was instantly aware of every breath I drew, of the thumping of the heart beneath my breasts... Of the taste of the shrubs outside on the air, and the cold, implacable stone under my feet. Everything was real in a way it had never been before. I was mortal... and I was now truly alone. I lit my fire mechanically, and piled it high with the wood I'd gathered. The woodsmoke stung my eyes, and the flavours were rich and complex in the back of my throat. I ate grapes from my vines as my first human meal. I put the shards of my shattered heart-stone on my bedside table. And I crawled under my blankets and lay there, waiting for the future to find me... Sleep spread her cloak and enfolded me; I dreamed of arms around me, of warmth, of love and bitter tears... and roused in confusion; someone was shaking me, running their fingers over my shoulders and back and hair.

I snorted, groggy, trying to blink the unaccustomed grit out of my eyes. My mouth felt strange - dry. I was parched - a new sensation in a sea of other new sensations. "Dani?" I mumbled. "Is that you?" "Oh Isea," she moaned, her voice sick with misery. "Oh Holy Mary, Isea, what have you done?" "I broke my heart stone," I tried to explain. I fumbled sleepily out to my table to to nudge the shards with a finger. She slumped down onto the floor; tears ran down her cheeks. She knotted her fingers into the blankets and starred at me, her brow furrowed with despair. "Why? Oh God, why did you do this to yourself!" "I..." "What... what if I'm not what you think I am? What if I leave you? What if you leave me? Isea, you... you should have talked to me. We should have talked before... before..." "It's my life, Dani," I whispered. "At last. At last, I have the chance to... to go beyond the hills once more. I love this place but... but I want more before I fade. If that more is with you, I will die content. If... if you don't want me, that's okay too, I've made peace with the fact that that might be..." "Of course I still want you, you idiot," she hissed. She leaned forward and placed her head on my breast. I could feel her gulping, shuddering... I reached up and ran my fingers through her hair. "You're... an impetuous child," she rasped. "What if you'd died? Oh my God, Isea! You... you have to be careful now. You're human. You can't just... leap without looking any more, okay? Don't ever do anything this stupid ever again. Oh Dio santo, my heart, I feel ill..." "I promise," I said. She sniffed, then wiped her eyes. "Move over," she demanded. I tried my best, she shoved me roughly and wriggled me until I touched the cave wall.

"The stone is cold!" I protested. "That is one of the many, many things you're going to have to get used to now, I think. It's your own stupid fault." She pulled the blanket up over me, and wormed in close. "Idiot," she repeated, distraught. "Oh Gesù, you're freezing! Isea! What... what are we going to do now? You have no job, no money, nothing... you need to eat, you need... a phone, clothes... papers... dio porco, Isea..." Then she sighed, and took a breath. I felt the way she was shivering. "We'll... be okay," she whispered. "I'll take care of you. We'll be okay. It's okay. Somehow... I know we'll be okay. Come here. You're like ice; let me warm you." Sunlight lit the entrance of my cave. I could see what had once been my waters, dancing and rippling. I felt a profound sense of loss, and a strangely comforting, infinitely deeper and warmer sense of peace. I closed my eyes and moved in against her, and slowly drifted off in my lover's arms. And I slept until hunger woke me for the first time ever. 🙙 Epilogue 🙛 My phone rang Dani's ringtone. I groaned, looked up from the notepad, and stretched my neck. I peered downwards, pleased as always to see my beloved's face smiling up at me from behind the crystal face. picked the contraption up, and fumbled at it, and managed to answer on the second attempt. "Hey, babe," I said. "Hey, you. I was walking down the Via Clavature - you know there's a bookshop there, right?" "Mhmm?" I said, turning so that I could stare out over over the snowcrusted rooftops of Bologna. I twirled my ankles, pointed my toes,

enjoying the feeling of my muscles unclenching. "Libreria Nanni; I know it..." "I thought you might. So... I saw a book in the window - a new one, and it made me think of you. I sent you a picture, you really should be better at reading your messages, my love." I snorted. "I'm busy," I said. "I'm writing. You know, so I have a job, so I have money to pay for my upkeep..." She laughed. "Are you still going on about that?" I smiled. "Of course. It is a convenient stick to poke you with, my silly donkey." She laughed more loudly. "Donkey, is it? Ass. Read your messages, you wilful and disobedient girl," she said. "Oh in Selene's name... all right, all right. Hang on..." I poked and prodded at the still-sometimes-confusing device, and opened my chat with her. And stared. "Oh. Oh... it's finally there. Finally!" "Congratulations, my love! I've bought us some wine, tonight we're celebrating." "Okay," I laughed. "If you insist. I hope it's..." "Villa Elisa. Yes. Of course it is. Anyway... there's nothing else, I just wanted to phone you and hear your voice and show you this. I'm so proud of you. I love you forever, my goddess. Class finishes in in an hour and then I'll head home." "I will be waiting. I will always be waiting. I love you." "I love you too." And she hung up.

I leaned back into my chair and stared at the photo - my grinning lover's bright, wide-eyed smile, dramatic thumbs up, and next to her in the bookshop's window - my book. The Queen and the River's Daughter... by Isea di Lago. Fictional, of course. Well... mostly. I honestly would never have thought that the store of history locked up in my memories would be of any interest to anyone. But Daniella... and Bettina, and Maria, and Marco, and their families had all been fascinated by the things I could tell them of their home. And they'd all nagged and badgered me, my lover most of all, and made me write - sometimes bullying, sometimes bribing, but always with love in their hearts. And - so strangely, but just as my partner had told me - people seemed to want to read my stories. First they'd merely been "online" on the strange ghostly space Daniella called the Internet - posted up for all to see and for some to donate towards. But then I'd been contacted by an agent in Turin who'd seen something in what I was writing, and who had linked me to the publisher who went on to commission my first complete tale. And now - as Daniella had so laughingly predicted all those months ago - I was working on a second. I glanced around - at our small, cramped but cosy apartment that we'd somehow manage to scrounge together. A photo of the waxing moon over Lake Iseo hung in my writing corner. Pebbles from the lake shores acted as book-ends on my bookshelf. The shards of my heart stone stood in a little carved box that Daniella had found for me at some strange alley market... And my pomegranate tree stood in a carefully-insulated corner; the sparse remaining winter leaves dark and waxy as the life within hibernated in hope of the warmth of spring. I sighed, content.

I'd never needed much; I just needed a bit more these days than I had used to. But with my lover, I had all I wanted. She held me at night, and kept me warm, and between her tutoring and my writing we fed ourselves and had enough to put a little away as well. She would be home soon. The heat was already building within me. I would take her in my arms, and kiss her, and strip her and make love to her. And then, only then, would I permit her to feed me. I smiled. Outside, the sun was setting somewhere behind the blanket of clouds. Soon, my mother would rise and cast her gaze over the foaming sea high above us. I would stand by the window and stare up at her hidden face, then raise my arms in praise as I always did. She would not answer, but I did not care, I would never stop singing my song of praise. And then, finally, I would return to the embrace of my lover's arms. It was bittersweet, this human life - full of small victories and great setbacks. But for all that I would not change my choice. I had succeeded where my poor, tragic sister had not. I had Daniella, and her love. I had my freedom, and the years that were left to me. And they would be blessed.

The End.