TIMEWALKER [wlw]

f o u r

- H -

Morning light filters through my eyelids, colouring my vision in shades of red and gold. I rise blearily into the day, tugging a strand of bright blonde hair away from my face.

Confusion filters through my mind; the ceiling above me is blank, painted in shades of grey. The image that haunts me every morning is gone. I glance to my left, my gaze alighting on a woman curled up beside me, her hands reaching across the chasm between our bodies.

Her eyes are shut, her breathing following the rhythmic pattern of sleep. I trail my eyes over the sharp ridges of her cheekbones, following the sweet curve of her jaw. Her cropped hair provides her features with no shelter, baring her beauty to the world.

Something warms in my stomach, and I drag myself away, guilt building in my throat. The sound of soft murmuring builds in the rooms below, and I allow myself a selfish bout of happiness. No matter the reason for their presence in my life, Castor and Pollux have been sorely missed.

I glance over to the window, where the blanket I pinned up yesterday has fallen into a crumpled heap on the ground.

I stretch, pushing off my blankets and grabbing a long, linen shirt from the ground beside my mat. On me, the shirt reaches down to mid-thigh; one of Cassandra's stolen goods from her brothers. I pull a thin pair of trousers on underneath, tugging them up until they sit comfortably on my hips.

In a brief attempt to make myself more presentable, I run a hand through my hair, shaking out the tangled strands. Satisfied with my efforts, I send a look towards Laura, at peace in the depths of sleep. She mumbles something into her make-shift pillow, rolling over to escape the glare of the sunlight.

I sigh, making my way downstairs via the woven ladder hanging from the wall.

"Morning, Helen," Pollux greets me with a smile, lighting up his dark eyes. Castor doesn't glance up from his work, sitting at the table examining one of the few, heavily sought-after, maps of Troy.

I nod in response, stealing a slice of bread from Castor's pile on the table. He lifts his head to glare at me, but his eyes hold no heat.

"How is Laura?" Pollux inquires, his tone gentle. "I only saw her briefly yesterday."

"She seems well," I reply, carefully evading any hint of emotion in my speech. To avoid any further questions, I rip off a piece of the bread and nibble at its edge. Pollux nods, taking my response at face value.

Castor waits for a moment before he speaks, his voice full of warning, "You're taking after our mother, then?"

I pause with my hand in the air, ready to feed myself another small bite of bread. His words swirl around my mind, reminding me of the temporary nature of Laura's visit.

"Only as you did," Pollux comments, his voice light despite the weight of his words.

Castor scowls, banging a fist onto the table. When he looks at his twin, real fire burns in his eyes.

"Pollux--"

"I am not making the same mistakes she did, Castor. I promise you, I have learnt from our history," I say pointedly, interrupting his anger.

Castor shakes his head, but turns back to studying the map, our conversation deadened by his harshness.

"You are allowed to make the same mistakes," Pollux tells me, his brown eyes serious. Gold sparks along the dark amber of his cheekbones.

I nod, chewing on another piece of bread. Sometimes, Pollux lives in a world very far from our own. Here, mistakes cost lives.

"Just...promise me you will be careful," Castor tells his map, gripping one side of the thin papyrus tightly. Warmth threatens to creep into my cheeks, but I suffocate it before they stain red.