The Crystal Rainbow Ch 21 25

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Chapter Twenty-One – Yearning

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Yearning is the desire you feel for the one you love.

Longing is the lust you feel when you lie to yourself and call it love.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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She placed the pen back into the drawer, folded the paper in half and then placed it before her in the center of the desk. Drawing a deep breath, she held it for a moment then released it slowly. She rolled her head and shoulders as she gathered her strength. A rosy glow began to emanate from her bracelet. She held her hands out over the letter, closed her eyes and spoke. Her mellifluous voice ringing with a sudden, heretofore hidden, power.

"Go to Khalid! Now!"

The room seemed to grow dark although the lamps still burned as brightly as before. The light they cast simply did not reach beyond their chimneys. The hair on the back of Helen's neck began to tingle and then all of the hair on her head stood straight on end. A small flash of ruby red light enveloped the letter, which instantly disappeared. The old woman's hair relaxed immediately and fell to her shoulders. The lamp lights brightened and once again cast their golden glow into every corner of the small room. Helen sighed and lowered her hands to rest them atop of her desk. She bowed her head and found she was unsure whether it was in supplication or defeat.

"Well, I guess it is out of my hands now. I hope he decides to visit and at the same time not. It is such blissful torture to have him so close. Shit! So close and yet not …."

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

"This feels so delightfully wicked, Erik! Are you quite certain that this is a method of teaching voice? Or, are you trying to seduce me, Monsieur?"

While the words slipped haughtily from her lips, the mischievous light in her glistening eyes belied her tone of mock horror. She arched an eyebrow at him as she awaited his response. The man, who hovered above her body with his hands controlling her movements, froze. For a brief instant, he lost his cocky certainty as he raised his serious eyes to Christine. However, after reading the playful air and her seductive mien, his demeanor relaxed and he swiftly regained his confident manner. Matching the impish light shining in the young woman's eyes, a sly smile stole across his lips and a husky chuckle rolled from his mouth.

"Do I really need to seduce you, Mademoiselle? I do not seem to remember you requiring any coaxing from me and that you came quite willingly to this position beneath me. Perhaps, we are both the wicked ones here."

As a whisper-soft moan escaped unknowingly from him, he pressed the length of his growing hardness, which provided the evidence of his wickedness, against the side of her thigh and she released a sound somewhere between a hiss and a moan. Spurred on by the musical noises emanating from his beloved, his hips rocked forward. His body instinctively acting. Her body reacting. Her back arched, thrusting upwards against the firm body of the man, as her body immediately sought the part of him she needed buried tightly inside her. Their actions unknowing proof of Newton's Third Law of Motion that forces always come in pairs. He moved nearer to her, she responded. Their passion swept all cognizant thought from both of their minds leaving only a firestorm of desire. Two pairs of feverish lips crashed desperately against each other, ravenous to sate the longing, which overwhelmed both of them. Hands glided over soft, yielding mounds and other hands slid along a thick, rigid shaft. As the writhing movements of the pair became ever more frenetic, so too did the sound of the impending storm outside.

Christine tore her mouth away from Erik's and stared at him with wild eyes.

"Prenez-moi, Erik! Maintenant

¹

!" She gasped raggedly.

A blinding bolt of lightning struck a tree just outside, the severed branch cracking and splintering noisily as it fell to the ground. The brief silence, which followed ended with booming thunder that shook the cottage.

"Oh, Christine!"

He cleared his throat and raised his eyes beseechingly to the heavens. A shudder ran through his body and he allowed his head to roll from side-to-side along his back before he lifted his head, returning his gaze to the panting brunette. His eyes filled with desperate longing, as they pierced into her soul before he turned away and his shoulders sagged in defeat. He sighed and rolled off of her.

"Really, Christine! Tu êtes ma petite verrou de foudre

²

! I desire nothing more than to lay with you, swath your lips and breasts with kisses, then cover your body with mine and take you, but we both know what the result of that action would be. I want you, Christine. And, I wish to live long enough to make you mine in every way, but only if that is what you truly desire. I love you and if you were willing, I would ask you to be my wife, to bear my children, to spend the rest of your life with me. I desire all of these things, but I cannot ask anything of you until we tame the storm you carry within your soul. So, please do not tempt me. I am in love with you and cannot withstand the lure of your charms when you offer them to me so freely. I feared that our attraction would interfere with our lessons and that is the reason why I put you off for the last week. I cannot do this alone. We must resist temptation together. We must stand firm in our resolve to wait until you are ready. So, I ask you, Christine, can you allow me to teach you without tormenting me? Can you do this, ma chéri?"

The smirk on the young woman's face faded and she pursed her lips. She sat up and ran her hands over her skirts to smooth them then turned her longing eyes to the man.

"Oh, Erik! The last thing I intended to do was to tease you. In fact, I am most serious about my feelings for you. Please believe me when I tell you that I want you as much as you want me. And, I would love to accept your proposal and make a life with you. But, we both know that I am not ready to do that … not yet. I do not wish for anything to happen to you because of this damnable power that seems to control my life. I … I am sorry. It is just that when you touch me, I do not wish to control myself. My entire life has been that of me controlling my wants and desires. Ever since the death of my papa, I held back from those around me, remaining both untouched and unloved. I listened and watched as everyone lived around me. I have hidden behind a mask, pretending that I did not want the same things other women wanted, but I do want them. Actually, I want you, Erik! My body aches with its need of you. When you place your hands on me, I burn deep inside. You are not the only one that feels tormented, mon amour. I may be untouched, but I am not wholly innocent. I am aware of the things that men and women do. One cannot live on an estate the size of the de Mornay's without witnessing several assignations. I realize that I must learn control or I could hurt someone, perhaps, even kill someone. If one good thing can come of Helen's mistake, it is to show me what comes from not being properly prepared. I want you, but I promise to behave. Please, continue with the lesson. I promise that I shall conduct myself in a manner appropriate for a young, unmarried lady. Truly! I promise!"

The panting couple collapsed against one another as they slowly gained control and their ragged breaths calmed. Erik pressed a single kiss to Christine's forehead then looked deeply into her eyes.

"I need you always to remember that I love you. Can you do that for me, ma chéri? Please?" He murmured huskily.

Returning his stare with wide, unblinking eyes, Christine nodded as she lay back down. She smiled gently and allowed her love for Erik to speak to him through her shining eyes.

The young man sighed once more, bowed his head and turned away. Removing his mask, he wiped the sweat from his face then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and ran it across the inside of his mask. He quickly returned the mask to his face and the handkerchief to his pocket. Then, he took a deep breath and released it; he opened his eyes, turned to her and began again.

"Very well. Listen to my words, Christine. I wish for you to listen and think about the action I describe. Do not move! Perform the action within your mind. I shall move your body for you. Listen to the sound of my voice and feel yourself becoming relaxed. Your muscles are loose. There is no tension in your body. Every part of you is limp and free. Breathing is the only action I require of you. Breathe deep. Allow your lungs to take in just as much air as you need. Listen to my voice and relax."

He allowed his eyes to roam over the body lying on the table and watched the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest. Her open eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling with a slightly glazed look causing the rich brown orbs to appear dull. The line of her jaw appeared soft and unclenched even with her mouth closed. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth and he nodded almost imperceptibly in approval.

"It seems our desire for one another spurs her ability. She just passed the first hurdle. Perhaps, this will be easier than I hoped, but we shall see."

"Excellent, Christine! You are ready to begin. Now, close your eyes and perform these actions in your mind. Remember. Do not move your body. I shall do that for you. Perform the movements as I instruct, but do not move your body. Today, we begin to retrain your mind. Once your mind learns the proper way to move, your body will follow. Perfect. We begin now. Christine, you are standing on the stage of the opera house. You are the lead soprano. You stand before the audience and your body is completely relaxed."

His hands roamed over her body, positioning her in the proper stance then he continued.

"You hear the last notes of the prelude fade away and then the orchestra begins to play. The opening notes of the introduction sweep through you and you draw in and release several preparatory breaths. You are ready to begin your opening aria. Now, picture in your mind …."

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Helen peered out her bedroom window and watched as the last vestiges of the threatening thunderhead diminished, soon becoming nothing more than a light, ghostly fog. The wind, which had begun to batter the limbs of the trees surrounding her home, banished the last traces of mist as it died and the trees became still. The low rumbling of thunder ceased and the sound of silence hung heavily for a moment before the everyday sounds of the forest resumed.

She chuckled.

"Merde, ça c'est trop fort

³

! They can actually control themselves! This is amazing! A man that thinks with his big head and not the little one. Perhaps, Erik is more than just a man after all …."

Her chuckle caught and died in her throat as her eyes locked onto the dim reflection of her face wavering on the surface of the window pane. Her eyes clenched shut in denial of the image before her, but opened reluctantly to stare at the woman looking back at her from within the glass. She sighed and turned away. Crossing the floor, she dropped to her knees before her large armoire in the corner of her room. She drew open the bottom drawer, her hands dipped inside to rummage beneath the carefully folded shawls and throws lying within the drawer. When her hands contacted the cold, smoothness she sought, she grasped it tightly and withdrew the object. She held a large, ornately decorated, silver-backed hand mirror. Her fingers lovingly ran over the swirls and whorls of the designs adorning its back, smiling slightly as they gently traced over the initials

"H. de B."

Steeling herself against the pain that she knew her action would cause, she flipped over the mirror, held it up and looked at the reflection in the glass.

"Mon Dieu! I sometimes forget and feel like the girl I once was, but then it seems that fate always steps in and reminds me of the horror, which is my face."

She tilted her head, first to one side and then to the other as she carefully considered her reflection.

"I cannot decide which camp is correct. Those who believe my face appears melted or those who think it looks like a bowl of folded bread dough. Perhaps, they are both correct. Hmmm …. Melted bread dough …. Yes, that is just the thing to tempt a man into my bed. What a fool I am! One would think that after all of these years I would have become used to the fact that my cursed appearance dictated my lonely fate. I would think that my advanced years would act as a sedative to my overactive libido, but it only seems to grow stronger."

The soft chiming of a clock interrupted her painful musing. She quickly returned the mirror to the drawer and slammed it shut. The old woman struggled to her feet and allowed her hands to smooth out the rumpled lines of her skirt.

"Oh, fuck! It is almost time for Khalid to arrive and here I sit crying. Pull yourself together, old girl. Forget that you want him! Your best friend is about to arrive! Forget that your smile looks like a lipless, toothless maw that no man would ever want to kiss and your face a lumpy mass of flesh no one would ever want to touch. Just remember that for some strange reason, Khalid is your friend and he enjoys your company. Now, wipe away those tears and go greet the only normal person you can name as your friend."

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The man tugged nervously at the black astrakhan cap on his head and then picked a non-existent piece of lint from his morning suit coat. He turned sideways in the mirror and scowled at his reflection.

"When did I become so … so round?"

A soft snort and stamp of a hoof insinuated itself into his depressed physical inspection. He turned and demanded indignantly.

"Well?"

A whinny and shake of a tail acted as an answer. The man frowned until his body received a not so gentle shove in the shoulder from behind. He turned to watch his friend's reaction. With a toss of mane and another stomp of hoof, the man's frown slowly melted away into a bemused smirk.

"So, you think it is not too bad?"

The bray and rapid head shake seemed to satisfy the man.

"Very well. You have never been wrong, so I will trust your judgment about this. It is just that … oh, well, I have never worn a suit before. She is bound to realize that I am up to something. Hmmm …. Perhaps that would not be such a bad thing after all."

He turned to glance at the grandfather clock just as it began to strike the hour.

"Oh! Allah preserves us! It is time! Come, Edgar! We do not wish to be late, do we?"

A snicker and head shake seemed to answer the man's inquiry.

The man gently wrapped his fingers around the halter's cheek strap and brought himself up to his full height. He placed his hands carefully over the mule's eyes and then closed his own.

"To Helen." He spoke quietly.

The man and the mule became transparent; their images wavered for a moment and then blinked into nothingness.

The clock finished announcing the hour and the empty room was silent, but for the ticking of the pendulum.

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¹

"Prenez-moi, Erik! Maintenant!"

– Translation: "Take me, Erik! Now!"

²

"Tu êtes ma petite verrou de foudre!"

– Translation: "You are my little bolt of lightning!"

³

"Merde, ça c'est trop fort!"

– Translation: "Shit, well I'll be damned!"

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Disclaimer

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I am not a qualified instructor trained in the Alexander Technique and have only an extremely basic knowledge of its teaching principles and practices. Please do not mistake my fictionalized representation of the Alexander Technique as authentic or factual. I make no claim of ownership of the Alexander Technique or of its principles.

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Chapter Twenty-Two – Inertia

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The rapid beating of the heart cannot overcome

the inertia of unrequited love.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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"Brava, ma chéri! Brava! Tu êtes une merveille! Non! Tu êtes mon ange parfait

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!"

Forcing his eyes away from the lovely blush, which blazed across her cheeks, tumbled down the column of her elegant throat and swept across the rapidly heaving expanse of her chest, he smiled broadly at Christine.

"You know that I would not say it if it were not true. I never lie. I am pleased with the progress we made today. Now, close your mouth, ma chéri. Allowing your mouth to hang open in such a manner is bound to attract …."

She opened her mouth to cut off Erik's suggestive remark, when suddenly Helen's normally melodious voice resounded throughout the entire cottage with an ear-splitting screech. Christine's blush drained from her face and Erik's head whipped about to stare in the direction of his bedroom door. The two began to speak at the same time.

"What the fuck?" He shouted.

"Mon Dieu! Do you think someone is in the house?" She gasped.

Erik called over his shoulder as he began to rush from the room.

"It certainly sounds that way, but only one way to know for sure. You stay here!"

Christine leapt gracefully from the table, placed her hands on her hips, stomped her foot on the floor in frustration and fumed.

"Like hell! I am coming with you!"

He skidded to a halt and turned on her, his face grave.

"I will return for you in just a moment, but first I need to know if Helen needs help. I cannot help Helen if I have to worry for your safety. Please, Christine?"

The young woman let out an involuntary snort of disgust and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I am not some helpless maiden, Monsieur. Nor, do I intend for you to leave me alone where I am in greater danger than if I were with you. I leave you no choice in this matter, unless you lock me in this room and board up the windows, I am coming with you!"

Erik's eyes flickered to the window as a movement outside caught his attention. His visible eyebrow arched and then he rolled his eyes.

"Very well, Mademoiselle Wolner. You may come with me."

The young man sighed and wilted under the young woman's withering gaze.

"Very well! You may come with me, but you must calm yourself, Christine! Your emotions are out of control and, if you glance out the window, you will see the results of your tempestuousness. Really, ma chéri!"

Once more Christine found her reply cut off by a shriek and then by the loud braying of a frightened animal. Christine began to rush to Erik's side, but froze as Helen's voice boomed throughout the cottage.

"Khalid! You fucking arse! What on earth were you thinking? Get him out of my house! Now!"

Erik's body stiffened and then relaxed. His head dropped into his hand and he began to shake his head. His shoulders began to hitch uncontrollably. Her face taught with concern, Christine raced to his side and placed a hand gently on his arm.

"What is it? What is wrong?"

Lifting his head from his hand, Erik met Christine's concerned gaze, his eyes twinkling with his amusement.

"Well, it seems that Khalid is here and he brought Edgar with him. From the warmth of Helen's greeting, if I were to hazard a guess, it seems to me that there are two asses in the parlor right now. Come, let us go and I shall introduce you to them. Edgar, at least, deserves a proper greeting. I am certain that Helen's screams have frightened the poor beast half to death. Shall we, ma chéri?"