Chapter Text
Helen’s eyes met the water, as if in a trance, its rhythmic pull called to her and she listened most eagerly, as if it echoed the deepest longings of her heart.
She had always been drawn to the water, its beauty wild and untamed, despite man’s attempts to conquer it. The ocean answered to no one.
She watched, as the Waves crept up upon an unsuspecting dog, and playfully licked at its heels. Causing the poor thing to jump with surprise. A dark blur bolting across the sand.
Helen chuckled at the water’s mischief. She liked how it misbehaved, never seeming apologetic for its actions but wore them with a countenance, only few could truly match. It was that sense of freedom that was utterly captivating to her.
However; she knew only too well of its cruelty; the swiftness in which the ocean claimed lives.
The titanic had certainly taught her that.
Yet it also sustained life, creatures and beings of this world who would drown in air, as people the sea.
The morning sun rose from her window, its golden rays caressing the water’s surface, like a lover’s kiss. An embrace so fleeting, yet so beautiful. She was caught by the scene.
It reminded her of those times when the five of them went away to the sea side. Days, she so dearly missed.
Where they would walk beside the beach, almost pulled by its gravity. Well at least she was.
Most of her company however did not seem to share her view;
James was always too astute in his deductions and took more pleasure in observing the behaviours of those around him, only tempted if the activities involved fishing or a game of cards.
Nigel was much the same in the fishing department: he could never sit still for more than two seconds, she laughed, especially when he saw something worth stealing or an opportune moment to annoy Nikola.
He used to turn invisible and steal Nikola’s things.
Or, what he used to call, baiting a vampire, which involved poking her poor friend with a floating recently caught fish until he vamped out, then made a break for it before those claws got you.
Nigel was a master at escaping, much to the Serbian’s chagrin.
Her amusement faded. John...: He would stay by her for longer, for a moment or two. Then after a while, whisper sweet sentiments in order to steal her away from its splendour. Much more the poetic romanticist, he charmed her with words. But never truly saw the beauty in something as simple as this, Helen thought ruefully.
But then there was Nikola; a small smile touched her lips. He loved the freedom of the scene. He loved the energy and the rush of power, the waves crashing in time with your heart. His eyes were the same steel blue, which drew you closer, captivated yet not unaware of the danger. Helen ignored those idle fantasies, which had no place in her head then or now.
However; Nikola, for all his complaining about going away from his work and the general lack of hygiene of her father’s cabin, was the one person who would just sit beside her for hours, quite content.
Just talking or simply admiring the view. She would lie her head against his shoulder and he would make her laugh with his witty remarks about their professors or the world in general. His gentle teasing was a nice change, sometimes, from the intensity of John’s company.
She had loved John then. In that there was no question, but didn’t mean he owned her so much as to restrict the company she kept.
He had claimed the right to court her, not the right to restrict her from being in the comfort of her friends.
Something Nikola loved to tease him about. Spending more time with her than was strictly proper for a courted woman to be in company of single man.
However despite John’s dislike, it was, in all honestly, complete innocence between them, nothing more than a mere brush of their hands that neither were bold enough to entwine.
But sometimes she would catch him looking at her, with such unspoken longing which made her heart race. But then the look would fade away with the setting sun as if it had never been there at all.
Helen was shaken out of her revere as her phone bussed on the table. It was Will, whose lack of grammar when it came to texting irked her to no end.
He was asking how the Sanctuary was fine and asking how the conference with the director’s was going.
She resisted the temptation to say bloody awful but instead replied with an optimism that didn’t match her current outlook.
She began typing.
Not as well as I hoped, but time will tell, I still have a week left.
But in reality, the meeting was nothing short of a disaster.
The directors were yelling at each other, only four people agreed that the deep ocean mining project must be halted for the safety of everyone in the area due to the Voltarius serpent. An ancient sea dwelling abnormal which inhabited the depths below and, when provoked, could cause major tsunamis.
To make matters worse, out of the four people who agreed with her, only two of them were even part of the meeting.
The other two consisted of a nosy window washer, who seemed inspired by her words and yelled from the other side of the glass “You tell ‘em, girlfriend!” before the blinds were promptly closed on him.
And the other was a shy sectary who said after the meeting was over “If it’s any consolation, I support you.” Then hurried off to her desk outside.
Helen sighed, frustrated, rubbing her temple. She would not give up, oh no, definitely not. She was far too stubborn for that.
A waiter came up to her and placed some tea on the table with a smile as she thanked him, then walked away.
Yes this is what she needed, the hot steam rising to meet her like an old friend. Thank god for tea, she thought as she looked around the room.
She was here for a week yet best make the most out of a bad situation, she thought, Surveying upon the hotel, with an idle but appreciative glance.
Then her gaze stopped, lingering upon a young couple who sat on the lounge, the man’s arms circled around her small frame in which she playfully slapped his chest laughing at his grin, then leaned contently against his shoulder.
The immortal doctor, sipped her tea with a wistful expression. They were so young, so full of life and optimism so….in love.
Envy tugged on her heart. Memories filled with longing, betrayal …loss.
Her mind refused this emotion, but it would not stop the ache, for someone who would hold like she was the centre of their world, a perfect embrace she could quite happily drown in.
Helen turned away from them and their youthful flame.
She could never have that.
Never again.
A sharp sensation rang hollow inside her chest. Not even a spark left. Not after…..
Helen shook her head trying to contain her scattered thoughts, but the feeling would not cease. Try as she might, she couldn’t drown out the echoes of her own loneliness.
Get a hold of yourself, she scolded, you hardly have time for that, your life is far too busy and far too complicated.
She steeled herself as a young Bell boy approached her.
“Excuse me Miss Magnus” He stammered rather shyly “a man asked me to give you this.” He gave her a small white envelope.
“Thankyou,” Helen smiled warmly, thinking it was one of the directors that she had met earlier this morning.
Helen.
Please allow me the pleasure of your lovely company.
Meet me at the water’s edge.
Helen swallowed, her eyes skimming over the words, hoping to disclose its sender. Interesting; it was written in French. The letters were neat yet hurried, as if there was a hint of urgency within its inviting tone.
This man was bold, that went without saying. But obviously not bold enough to write their name. Did he believe she would refuse it his name was present, or was there another motive?
Either way, she was best to treat this situation with caution. Anonymous letters were never good news. Especially in her profession.
Alright, Helen thought, what do we know so far about this mysterious sender? Well they obviously know who I am. However there weren’t a lot of people who called her by her first name.
John’s name flashed in her head, sending a bolt of alarm through her.
But it was short lived. The way this stranger wrote was definitely not John’s style, especially not in French. Writing normally wasn’t his first approach. Unless it was in blood that was.
She almost sighed with relief, she really did not want to deal with him at the moment. Pushing those thoughts aside, she pondered upon more realistic and most likely safer candidates.
It could be Christian Manly, from the conference her mind offered. He had seemed to be very supportive of her sanctuary despite its decided unpopularity amongst majority of the directors. He was also French.
Maybe he wanted to discuss the matter further. Although, while his support was admirable and most sought after in this trying time, the mid-thirties billionaire had seemed a little bit more interested in her, rather than the Sanctuary or her proposal to postpone the project until a new site could be located. She smiled to herself, perhaps….
Well she’d best find out from the messenger.
“Pardon me, but was the sender from one of the gentleman from yesterday’s meeting?” She enquired before the bell boy turned away.
“I don’t know Miss, he never told me his name, all he said was that you wouldn’t need to guess.” He shrugged.
The smile slipped away. Helen arched a brow, suspicious now. That type of arrogance was quite hard to find, without a century worth of practice.
Well it was definitely not Christian, she thought. But for some reason she wasn’t disappointed. And that annoyed her immensely, especially if it was the man she was thinking of.
“What did he look like?”
“Ah,” He looked at his shoes, trying to remember, “I think he was wearing a dark suit, thin and tall, about mid-thirties to early forties.”
Well, that narrowed it down, Helen thought dryly, but smiled and politely thanked him. He did not deserve her frustration. He bowed slightly and walked away.
Once Helen was by herself once more, she looked back at the note.
Oh Nikola, what are you playing at this time? She sighed fondly at the note, moving swiftly from her chair to the door.
Why couldn’t she just have a moment’s peace once in a while? But a smile played with the corners of her lips. Despite the trouble that would inevitably follow, she had missed Nikola, not that she would ever admit that to him…