Mon coeur se recommande à vous
Tout plein d’ennui et de martyre:
(My heart reveals itself to you
brimming over with weariness and a martyr’s pain,)
Lumiale sat pensively amid the soothing murmur of running water that completely surrounded him at his mansion. The bright sun shimmered dazzlingly off each diamond droplet cast into the air by a multitude of fountains and every placid pool had become a clear blue mirror of sky. But for once, the beauty of such a scene was lost on Lumiale’s artistic sensitivities. On the marble bench next to him lay neglected his palette and brushes, crusted with dry paint. Before him on an easel rested a large watercolor portrait of Clavis.
It was this very portrait which so captured Lumiale’s attention. He had finished it early that morning and had been sitting there outside ever since. From the painting, Clavis smiled at him lovingly, yet it was a look which Lumiale knew all too well was not and would never be meant for him. Lumiale sighed heavily as he looked up from the painting to take in his surroundings. It was past midday, the painting must certainly have dried out by now, and he still had yet to sign his signature to truly complete the piece.
Lumiale picked up his forgotten palette and frowned faintly at the caked paint, he usually never let that happen. Choosing a fine-tipped brush from among those still clean, he dipped it into a jar of water and proceeded to reconstitute the black tint. All he had to do was write his name, then the painting would be ready for Clavis to give to Julious as a token of undying affection. The brush suddenly slipped from his grasp as he held his hand poised to make the first stroke. Lumiale gasped in surprise, his gaze coming to rest on the offending hand, and he was shocked to find it trembling. He leaned down to retrieve the fallen brush and set it back down beside him. He gazed again at his trembling hand and, unable to bear it’s betrayal of his will, clenched it tightly into a fist, clasping it firmly against his chest. Had it really come to this?
A moins en dépit de jaloux,
Faites qu’adieu vous puisse dire!
(less to show that it is free from jealousy,
than to strengthen itself to say farewell.)
It had been nearly a year since Clavis first admitted to him that he had long harbored feelings for his long standing colleague Julious, a reluctant admission which came only after he had directly confronted Clavis about it, or rather, confronted Clavis as directly as he dared.
Clavis had mysteriously fallen desperately ill. Worried sick, Lumiale had rushed to inquire of Sara as to whether she could ascertain the cause. She had told him that all the stars could tell her was that Clavis was in love, though he was sure that she knew very well whom he loved as well.
It came as no surprise that Clavis had been holding things back. Lumiale, who knew him best of all, would himself be the first to admit that there were many things he didn’t know about Clavis. Though they spent a great deal of time together, most of it Lumiale spent playing his harp for Clavis. The rest was spent in companionable silence, enjoying the tranquility of the forest surroundings of Clavis’ mansion. When they did speak, Clavis rarely spoke about himself. But, Lumiale had learned enough to suspect that Clavis had once loved and been deeply hurt because of it, the details of which none of the people who had known Clavis in his youth seemed willing to provide. Well, if he still loved that person and that was somehow causing his illness, Lumiale would just have to force Clavis to talk about it for his own good!
Naturally, Clavis’ confession came as a great shock, not the least reason for which was the adversarial relationship he seemed to have with Julious for as long as Lumiale could remember. Though Lumiale had secretly hoped that he was the one Clavis loved, he knew better than to ever expect it and thought himself content to remain his friend. Still, hearing the words from Clavis’ own mouth hurt almost more than he could bear and had it been in his nature, he might have even abandoned Clavis to his misery. But as he sat by Clavis’ sickbed and Clavis brokenly poured his heart out to him, he knew he couldn’t leave him to languish in such pain. Lumiale vowed to Clavis, as his best friend, he would help him win Julious’ affection. He had since helped to mend the pair’s strained relationship and now he helped Clavis in taking it further. Yes, even this portrait was his own idea.
Ma bouche qui savait sourire
Et conter propos gracieux
(My lips which knew how to smile,
and to speak with such wit and charm,)
It had taken weeks to complete and without a doubt it was his greatest masterpiece. No other of his paintings had ever seemed so lifelike, had so captured the very spirit of the subject. But, of course, no other subject had ever so held his heart like this one. Though it had taken a great deal of time, it had been deceptively easy to paint, every stroke had seemed to come of its own accord as he poured his heart into his work. Lumiale knew it would be a long time before he would be able find joy in painting again. That is, if it would even be worthwhile to paint anything ever again knowing it would never come close to matching this.
In the portrait, Clavis sat, half reclining against the vine covered marble railing of the terrace of his mansion at evening. Behind him, the moon hung as a bright crescent in the sky, reflecting off the surface of the forest framed pond on his estate to envelop his form in a ghostly silver aura. Though his features were lit only by the muted light from indoors, his rare smiling countenance was clearly visible. His eyes held such warmth and were painted in such a way that whoever beheld the painting could not but feel that the smile was meant only for them. Clavis would be pleasantly surprised, he had never smiled quite like that when he was sitting for his portrait, though Lumiale often noticed the way the corners of his lips turned up slightly as he thought of Julious.
Truth be told, he didn’t really need Clavis to sit for him, the long sessions were merely an excuse to be close to him. He had recreated Clavis’ form in loving detail from the memory of his heart and Lumiale’s heart knew Clavis’ every feature, every nuance, every expression. No, Lumiale amended his thoughts, every expression but one. He had sometimes smiled at Lumiale, yes, but an expression full of love, such as the painting bore, was one which Clavis had never graced him with, had never meant for him to see.
Ne fait maintenant que maudire
Ceux qui m’ont banni de vos yeux.
(now can only persist in cursing
those who caused me to be banished from your eyes.)
It was all quite accidental. Lumiale was on his way to deliver some papers to Clavis at his office. He was admitted in and was surprised to find the office empty. Placing his delivery on the desk, he looked around and found that the door to the adjoining private room was slightly ajar. Perhaps Clavis was taking a break and had neglected to tell his usher, though it was unusual for him to abandon his post during working hours, despite anything Julious might say about him. Deciding to take a peek inside just to make sure Clavis was alright, he carefully pushed on the door so as not to disturb him. As it swung silently open, a sight for which he was completely unprepared slowly revealed itself.
Lumiale froze in shock. Before him stood Clavis and Julious, completely oblivious to his intrusion, gazing into each other’s eyes with an intensity he feared might cause the situation to erupt in violence. Silence stretched endlessly between the two as they seemed to be waiting for something. Then it was Julious who closed his eyes, leaning in and closing the minute distance between them to press his lips to Clavis’. Clavis’ own eyes slid shut as he wound his arms around Julious, returning the modest kiss. After a moment, they pulled apart. Pale rose tinted Julious’ cheeks as he smiled shyly at Clavis. Thus convinced of Julious’ sincerity, Clavis reciprocated with a beaming smile, his every feature softened by a depth of affection cultivated over a lifetime. Lumiale had never seen anything more beautiful than Clavis at that moment.
At Lumiale’s unconscious gasp, the two turned simultaneously in surprise. Their discomfiture turned to looks of gratitude as they realized it was Lumiale, the person who had helped to bring them together. Clavis greeted him amicably and even Julious managed an acknowledging nod at him through his embarrassment. Finally out of his stunned daze, Lumiale mumbled an apology and rushed away.
He had recognized instantly that he had stumbled across Clavis and Julious at a turning point. Little did Julious know that it was not only Clavis’ life that hung in the balance, but Lumiale’s as well. Julious’ decision had ruined his life even as it had saved Clavis’. Lumiale felt so confused. A part of him felt betrayed by Clavis for choosing to pursue Julious, a part of him felt hatred for Julious for stealing Clavis’ affection, and yet another part felt guilt for his own jealousy. He should have been happy that Clavis found the love he was looking for. He should have been, yet was not, and Lumiale didn’t know which feeling hurt more, betrayal, hatred, or guilt. That night he thought his tears would never cease as he cried himself to sleep.
Mon coeur se recommande à vous
Tout plein d’ennui et de martyre:
(My heart reveals itself to you
brimming over with weariness and a martyr’s pain,)
Heaving another forlorn sigh, Lumiale brought his thoughts back to the present. With the clarity of hindsight, he supposed he could say that he had only himself to blame for his present situation. If he had been able to admit his feelings to Clavis in those early days when he had just broken through that cold shell Clavis had built around his heart to keep from being hurt, the seed of love that would have been planted might be blooming by now. But that had always been impossible, he had never considered himself Clavis’ equal. What right did he even have to Clavis’ love? He regretted not being a bolder person, a stronger person, he could have admitted his feelings and the admission itself might have proved him worthy. Now all he had left were his regrets.
It was time to let go, he knew that. He wanted the pain to go away, he wanted to truly be Clavis’ friend again, and the only way to do that was to let go. It would by no means be an easy process and the pain would never completely go away, but it was worth going through to prove to himself that he was still worthy of Clavis’ friendship. The first step would be to sign his name to the painting, giving Clavis up to Julious.
Taking a deep breath, Lumiale again prepared his palette and brush, his hands steadied this time by determination. He wrote his name with practiced fluid strokes, and with the dotting of the “i”, Clavis became lost to him forever.
A moins en dépit de jaloux,
Faites qu’adieu vous puisse dire!
(less to show that it is free from jealousy,
than to strengthen itself to say farewell.)
It hurt far more than he could have imagined and the hardest times still lay ahead. Praying the words would give him strength, Lumiale closed his eyes against the threatening sting of tears and delicately pressed his trembling lips against Clavis’ in the painting.
“I love you, Clavis-sama,” he whispered softly against the insensible lips, then quickly pulled away before his flowing tears could mar his masterpiece.
Fin
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