Work Text:
Anke moves cautiously along the steep path to the Rosenfels harbor. Today, with a full moon, it's actually child's play—she knows the route even in the deepest darkness—but the bright night also makes it more likely to be spotted.
Again and again she stops, listens, but only hears the rustling of the leaves in the summer wind. She pauses just before the junction to the lake path.
Is it wise to go directly to the meeting point with Beatrix? Given Bea's mood in the last months, her asking for a meeting could well be a trap.
Precisely because Anke didn't tell anyone about the meeting, she should be careful now. Better detour via the beach.
Anke has just come to this decision when she hears hasty footsteps coming down from the chateau. She quickly darts a few steps further down the path to the harbor and hides in the shade of a gnarled old oak tree.
The one coming sounds resolute and isn't particularly quiet either.
Because of the steep and winding path, Anke can only see her at the junction. Frizzy blonde hair gleams in the moonlight as the person turns onto the lake path. Beatrix, and alone, Anke realizes.
She waits a moment, but just as she is sure that no one is following Bea, she hears creeping footsteps. Anke pushes herself deeper into the shade of the tree and watches as a figure in dark clothing and apparently dark hair creeps towards the harbor.
Could be Amanda, or Esther. A trap after all?
==b==
Beatrix arrives 10 minutes early at the meeting point, a small clearing on the edge of the bluff, shielded from the chateau and the way to the harbor. She paces restlessly up and down on the soft forest floor. The summer holidays start tomorrow. The next minutes will decide if she'll come back after hols or if she needs to find a new school for the next two years. The next minutes will decide whether she is strong enough to... Despite the summer temperatures, Beatrix shivers in her tracksuit.
Shit Bea, come on, don't be a coward, she tells herself. You look silly walking around like this. Anke doesn't trust you anyway, she thinks; well, why should she? So make sure you look unthreatening.
She lets her gaze wander across the clearing and finally sits down on a tree stump, clearly visible, her back to the bluff.
I don't get any more harmless than this. As soon as she sits down, she begins to draw circles and lines in the sand with a stick.
==b==
Meanwhile, Anke follows the shadowy figure to the harbor. Skilled prankster that she is, she has waited to give the other a head start so the inevitable cracking twig will not betray her when she leaves her hiding place by the oak. Lurking at the end of the path, Anke watches the shadow out on the jetty, sitting motionless, as if staring out onto lake Kapellsee.
Probably waiting for one of the idiot knights, Anke decides. Probably Amanda. So no danger from her.
==b==
Beatrix looks at her watch for the twentieth time. Ten past twelve.
Will she come at all? What will she do if Anke doesn't come? There won't be another chance to talk. Her shivering gets worse. She won't be able to stand the tension much longer. She looks up at every soft rustling in the forest, but no Anke appears.
A quarter past. She probably won't come. Beatrix lowers her eyes in defeat and stares at the sand at her feet.
A soft thump breaks the silence.
"Here I am," a dark voice says.
Beatrix startles and turns around. Anke is standing no more than three steps away, almost blending into the shadow of the bluff as if she had fallen from the sky. Beatrix swallows, jumps up . her heart is racing.
Don't let on how she scared you, she tells herself. How did she get there? Of course, the “bluff” here is only about three meters high!
"All good things come from above," Beatrix manages to say in a hoarse voice. She looks down, smudges her drawings with a foot so Anke wouldn’t see what the randomly drawn lines turned out to be.
The hasty movement isn’t lost on Anke. What is she hiding?
"It's completely new that you consider me something good," she flippantly replies while she once again scans the area with all her senses.
But as with her careful circling of the rendezvous point, she can't spot anyone else. Only Bea, the person she moved to Rosenfels for, who hasn't spoken an unavoidable word to her for more than three months, Bea, who had previously followed and hurt her until the others intervened. And all because of Stefan.
"You wanted to talk to me," says Anke dryly and takes a step closer to Beatrix.
Anke is balancing on the balls of her feet, ready to jump away any second, her fist clenched so hard the tension accentuates her bicep even through the track suit, her fine-boned chin resolutely pushed forward, her usually lively expression frozen.*
Don't be a coward, Beatrix tells herself again. She takes a deep breath and says: "Yes, ... I wanted to apologize to you!"
Her voice barely trembles as she takes this, the smaller, hurdle. She can see how Anke relaxes a fraction.
“I behaved quite madly, first against everyone and then only against you after …” she falters. There are no words for what happened. “I am sorry."
A brief smile lights up Anke's face and disappears.
"Oh, man, Bea," she says, her voice shaking a bit, as Beatrix notes, "all because of Stefan. If jealousy is a devil, you managed a pretty good impersonation.”
Beatrix moves closer to Anke, wants to be able to see her eyes, because now everything will be decided.
"No, not just because of Stefan."
Beatrix takes three deep breaths like a high diver before jumping off.
"I realized I wasn't mainly angry about the fact that you have Stefan, but..." she swallows, lowering her eyes "but that he has you."
Now it's out in the open, no retreat possible. Beatrice holds her breath. Nothing happens. It takes forever until Beatrix dares to look Anke in the face.
What is the difference? Why is Bea so embarrassed? Confused, Anke listens to the sentence in her head. ‘It's that he has you.’ Does she mean...
At that moment, Bea looks up, then her shoulders sag. Without a word, she turns and leaves.
"W… ait a second!" Anke stutters confused, but Beatrix starts to run.
Anke sprints after her, but only catches Beatrix at the crossroad to the harbor.
"Let me go" hisses Beatrix and tries to free herself.
Anke holds her wrist tightly. She sees the punch hiss past her face and grabs Bea's other wrist.
"First I want to know what that's supposed to mean," she says. Beatrice trembles.
"I fell in love with you," she whispers.
Anke scrutinizes her, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "Are you serious?" she asks tonelessly. "No prank?"
This must be a joke, any moment a laughing horde will break out of the bushes and make fun of me. Won’t they?
Beatrix looks into her eyes, green eyes wide and scared.
"No prank. Word of honor.”
==b==
"Wasn't it a wonderful concert, Miss Dr. Horn?" both suddenly hear the voice of Sonja Waldmann, their youngest teacher, echo through the forest with deliberate volume.
"Yes, Miss Waldmann, the pianist was really unusually talented," a well-known sepulchral voice answers a little quieter.
"The Horn" whispers Anke.
A flashlight flickers overhead.
"We have to hide." Beatrix whispers back.
Both girls mentally evaluate their options. The way to the chateau is blocked. Across the forest, the rustling would give them away. They can't go back to the clearing either.
"The Owl Stone!" Beatrix pulls Anke down the path a little and then into the shelter of an overhanging rock.
The two teachers approach. The headmistress repeatedly lights up the sides to the left and right of the path. Nestled against the rocks, Beatrix and Anke hold their breath.
As soon as the teachers have passed, they come back again. The shadows—and Sonja Waldmann's lively criticism of the piano recital—once again save the two girls from being discovered.
They remain in their hiding place for a few minutes. Anke can feel the tension in Bea's body, which isn't letting up even now, the tousled hair that tickles the back of her neck, the scent of Bea's skin, a bit of vanilla, a lot of sweat.
Finally, Beatrix breaks the silence: "If we didn't have Sonja..."
Her arms, which were holding Anke stiffly in the protection of the rock, fall down, as if numb.
"Mhm," Anke replies and turns to her, "but don't distract us now. You are in love with me?"
Beatrix presses into the rock as if she could disappear into it.
"I didn't mean to, that's why I persecuted you like that."
"Mhm" Anke, obviously lost in thought, sounds as if the sentence actually made sense.
"Are you really and truly serious?" she asks again.
Annoyed, Beatrix pushes her away. "Yeah damn’ it," she growls.
Both get up at the same time, collide with their shoulders, lose their balance and involuntarily cling to each other. Anke turns Beatrix around. In the moonlight, the traces of tears on her face are unmistakable.
"Oh Bea," Anke murmurs and gently strokes her cheek with one hand. What am I supposed to do now? Her stomach cramps in fear, at the same time she feels a deep warmth flowing through the fingertip to Bea.
She looks into Bea's green eyes, which reflect as much fear, confusion, and hope as she feels. Their lips touch gently. Carefully, searchingly, they approach each other, caress the back, neck, hair of the other. Past the caution a spark of passion slips like fireworks into their kiss; they startle apart, looking at each other in confusion.
Anke pulls herself together faster: "Caution, fire hazard!” she jokes. She takes a step back “Let's swim a lap to cool off.”
I hope she doesn't ask me what that kiss meant, because I don't know.