Chapter 12 - Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien

 

 

 

 This is a long chapter. No serious trigger warnings. 59 images, text walls of doom, crappy photoshop, etc.  (I just realized, 4 months later, that I forgot the title! Sorry!)

Walter turned over, slapping the alarm before it woke the rest of the house. He groaned as he rolled onto his back and threw the covers off, leaving them in a turned-over pile at the foot of the bed to air out the fabric, as was his habit.

He scratched his lower back, bent down to touch his toes and bounced a few times before he finally put his palms flat on the floor, feeling the stretch in his hamstrings. He shrugged out of his pyjamas and into a pair of running shorts and a tank top. He put on his socks and sneakers and tiptoed out of the house, going for his early-morning run.

He glanced at his watch in the purple-hued light of early dawn and figured 90 minutes would put him back at the house and in the shower before anyone else was up. He started off at a slow jog, the soles of his shoes making sharp slapping noises in the quiet morning air.

The steady pace of his running seemed to give his mind a reason to wander. It had been nearly a fortnight since the Richthofen brothers and their gaggle of four-legged companions had arrived – and nearly a fortnight since Walter had shared Karena’s bed, he thought bitterly. The dynamic of the house had not changed much; that lanky bastard Lothar had backed off from his pursuit of Karena, and Manfred had spent most of his waking time riding or brooding in the living room with one of the many poorly-written biographies of himself, occasionally swearing under his breath, or, if in a horrible mood due to his migraines, throwing the book across the room.

Mealtime was still awkward. Though it seemed that Karena had managed to explain what had happened in a way that satisfied the rest of the group, Walter still felt uncomfortable eating with them, and took his meals either at the diner down the road or in the kitchen, away from the dining room. He knew it was probably hurting Karena’s feelings to do so, but he could not bear to be in the same room with her without feeling the urge to take her in his arms and beg for her forgiveness. It was an odd feeling for him, and he did not like the physical symptoms that this emotional distress caused.

Walter turned the corner by the park and ran across the old rail bridge that crossed the south branch of the Simislaus River and took a right back towards the town. He debated stopping at the Cherry Pan for breakfast after his run, but remembered it was closed this morning. He picked up the pace and nodded to the other early-morning joggers as he passed them on the more modern bridge going into the heart of town, past the municipal buildings and the hospital.

Walter took another right across the North branch of the river and headed back up Wandering Heights road, past the unholy mish-mash of McMansion and old plantation houses. Lucinda Crumplebottom was sweeping off her front porch, so he assumed it must be close to 6 am. He slowed his jog as he approached the slight grade leading to the house and walked the final 10 yards, through the front gate and into the garage.

He came into the house, started the coffeemaker and went upstairs to take his shower.

He exited the shower 10 minutes later, wrapping a towel around his waist. He paused in front of the mirror to shave and rub pomade through his curls before combing them back into the hairstyle he’d had for years, no, nearly a century now. Taking his dirty clothes to his hamper, he debated doing a load of laundry before his rumbling stomach made the decision for him.

He dressed for the day and then went downstairs to start the coffeemaker and have breakfast. No-one else was up yet, not even Lothar, who was usually up earlier than anyone else. Walter heard the smack of the newspaper against the steps of the front door and went to retrieve it while the coffee brewed.

Coming back into the kitchen, he noted with no small pleasure that he was still the only one awake, and took the time to pour himself a cup of coffee, grab a pastry, and read the paper before heading into the office to take the calls regarding Karena’s business.

He dreaded the confrontations he’d know he’d have with the customers; Karena had canceled all of her appointments after she had found out about his past, telling him she was too upset to read or do her weekly message circles. Worried at the prospect of losing a rather significant amount of income, Walter had asked her when she’d be able to return to her schedule, and as of yesterday, she had not given him an answer. At least he had gained enough clout in the months before to take on small tax preparation jobs in town to supplement their income, he thought, even if this nation’s tax laws were absolute garbage.


 

He set down the newspaper and shuffled some papers around, letting his anxiety run free for a minute before composing himself. This was partially his fault, he thought, and he’d have to find a way to fix it. He tapped out a cigarette from the nearly-empty pack next to the phone and lit it, taking a long drag before reaching for his reading glasses. Either they were printing invoices smaller or he was getting older, he groused to himself.

He heard Lothar’s particularly odd gait come down the stairs, and then the slam of the back door a few minutes later and winced at the noise. How different he was from his older brother, Walter thought. Lothar you could hear coming a mile away, but Manfred had an unerring tendency to just appear, silently, and scare the shit out of him.

Walter had no more time to think about the differences, as the phone jangled and startled him out of his reverie. He sighed before picking it up. Now the trouble would begin.

Manfred woke with a start at the sound of the back door slamming, the uncomfortable position he was in in the chair making the sudden movement even more painful than it normally would be. His dog, sleeping in the bed, lifted his giant head up from across Karena’s legs and whined.

Manfred shook his head at Moritz and smiled; Moritz had taken quickly to seeing Karena as part of his pack of humans, and had left her cat alone as well.

Karena stirred as Manfred puttered about the bedroom, tidying up the blanket on his chair and placing the large, leather-bound volume on her bedside table. Manfred turned at her soft groan, a worried expression on his face.

“Schlaft gut?” he asked softly.

“No, and neither did you by the look on your face.” Karena mumbled as she sat up in bed. “Why do you insist on sleeping in that chair instead of your room?”

“Because I don’t like the way you barely sleep if I don’t. Vogel and my brother may sleep like the dead, but I do not, and I cannot abide hearing your soft sobs all through the night. When I’m in here, you don’t wake up and night and cry.” Manfred stated simply, rubbing the small of his back.

“Ever the guardian, then.” Karena said.

Manfred came and sat down next to her, lightly pushing Moritz away as the dog tried to insinuate his giant head onto Karena’s lap.

“Of course. So what did you dream about last night?” he said.

“Oh, the usual. Ever since finding out about Walter’s past secrets, my dreams have been the same; reliving the terror of my last few months of that life, all the mistakes I’ve ever made in this one, and people that I trusted and loved turning their backs on me or turning against me. That’s why I’m not reading for people, Manfred. I can’t trust myself now – what if all the information I’m telling these people is bullshit? What if they’re lying to me? What if I’m lying to them? Why didn’t Grim trust me enough to tell me the information Gabriel says he’s hiding? Why did Walter lie to me?” Karena replied, haltingly, as tears began to spill down her cheeks.    

Manfred sighed and held Karena’s hand as she began to cry again, racking sobs shaking the entire bed. Moritz whined and leaned against her, and Manfred did not try to stop him this time.

“Schatz, you need to trust yourself again. This was something Vogel hid from you, not something you weren’t able to find out using your abilities. You knew something was off, and you let it go because you wanted to believe what he was saying to you was true, and now you know the truth, and your sense of self-confidence is shaken. I understand this all too well. How many times did that happen to me, especially after the head wound? My arrogance and overinflated self-confidence took a steep nosedive after that. I was blinded by my upbringing and society’s expectations of the war. The injury took off the rose-colored glasses, and I saw the conflict for what it was, and how high command was using me and my men as propaganda to further their destructive policies. My fame came at a human cost, and it was not something I was willing to ask my men to pay anymore.

Manfred paused for a moment to collect himself, and Karena felt his grip tighten momentarily before he relaxed with a sharp exhalation.

“Come now, I’ll go get you some coffee and breakfast, and bring it up here, if you don’t feel like coming down. Do you need any books from the shelf while I’m down there? I’ll have Lothar take care of the animals this morning. You just rest.”

Karena wiped her eyes and shook her head, smiling wanly as Manfred got up and helped to adjust her pillows so she could sit more upright.

“No, I don’t need any books from downstairs. I still am reading the one that Grim gave me. Maybe I can find answers in there to the geis. Thank you, Manfred. You are the dearest of friends.”

Manfred kissed Karena softly on the top of her head and snapped his fingers at Moritz, who was in the process of settling back into the bed for a cuddle.

“Na na, hund. It’s time to go potty and have breakfast. Leave Karena alone so her kitty-cat can come cuddle, you giant sook.”

Moritz whined at his master and whuffed as he slowly turned away from the nice lady on the bed to follow orders. Karena reached for the large book on the side table and opened up the bookmarked page, beginning to read as Manfred and his dog left the room.

As Manfred went down the stairs towards the back door, he heard Walter’s raspy baritone voice in muffled conversation coming from the office. He assumed Walter was dealing with a customer and continued to the door.

He let Moritz out and asked Lothar to bring the dog in when he was done, and returned to prepare Karena’s breakfast, taking note of the number of pastries missing from the box on the table. He chose two that he knew Karena (and he) preferred, a powdered sugar-dusted, plum preserve-filled pfannkuchen, noting that they were the last two in the box. He narrowed his eyes when he remembered there were four the night before. Damn his brother and his sweet tooth, Manfred thought.

He was just about to pick up the tray and go upstairs when Walter’s voice rose in an attempt to placate the angry person on the other end of the phone, and Manfred could not help but eavesdrop.

“I’m sorry, I’ll refund your payment. No, I don’t know when she’ll return to the readings. She’s been ill for about a week. Yes, I know. I apologize. I’ll put a 20% discount on your next reading, when she starts up again. Yes, I’ll put you on the list. Again, I apologize. Yes, yes. Thank you.” Walter said as pleasantly as he could.

Walter hung up the phone and muttered “And go fuck yourself, too, you snobby bitch.”

Manfred left the tray on the counter and walked towards the living room. He poked his head into the office and saw Walter rest his head in his hands, exasperated.

“Another complaint, Vogel?”

Walter looked up at Manfred, seeing the deep, dark circles under his eyes. Manfred looked absolutely dead tired, and Walter was curious as to why.

“They keep calling. At least we built up enough to cover bills for the next six months. Barring the car breaking down.” Walter explained. “I wish this hadn’t happened.”

Manfred knew what Walter was referring to, and rested his hands on his hips in a gesture of irritation.

“You reap what you sow, sport.” Manfred said softly.

Walter looked up, a scowl creasing his brow. “Can you not remind me? I’m already self-flagellating like a Catholic, for fuck’s sake.”

Manfred frowned back, his face tightening in anger. Here Walter was complaining about dealing with fussy clients, and Karena was upstairs, a shattered shell of herself thanks to this bourgeois playboy’s little bedroom games. It was time to teach him a damn lesson.

“Lerne leiden ohne zu klagen, Vogel.” Manfred lectured.

Walter sat back in his seat, shocked at the tone Manfred was using with him. He reached for a cigarette and popped the end into his mouth, lighting it before replying sarcastically. “Do you hear me complaining?”

Manfred shifted his position in the office to stand with folded arms. “No, but I also do not see you mustering up the courage to talk to her again, to make this right.”

Walter dragged on his cigarette, his sneer changing into sadness. “We already talked about it. She said that she thought it best if we stopped sleeping together.”

Manfred nodded curtly. “And I see you’ve been sticking that to request, at least.”

Walter groaned and palmed his eyes. “Obviously. I wasn’t aware this denouement would hurt me so damn much, Herr Rittmeister.”

Manfred exhaled sharply at Walter’s last sentence. The absolute lack of empathy for what Walter had done to Karena made the bile rise in Manfred’s stomach. The fat bastard still was only thinking of himself, and not of the mental damage he had done to the woman lying upstairs in bed, unable to trust herself after this discovery.

“Does the tree complain when the wind bends it to its will? Better to accept your fate, to be at peace with the consequences of your actions, and to make amends to the people you’ve hurt.” Manfred said bitterly.

Walter saw the expression of disgust cross Manfred’s face, and he stubbed out his cigarette before snapping back. “You belong on a damn pulpit with that sanctimonious crap.”

Manfred shifted his position again, pointing at the man behind the desk, the tips of his ears beginning to turn red. “Your generation knows nothing of the Virtues. You abandoned God and put that Bohemian shithead in His place, and you all paid the price for it.”

Walter slammed his fist on the desk, his own anger rising to the accurate barbs thrown by Manfred. “I did not abandon my faith!”

Manfred brushed aside the exclamation with a dismissive gesture. “You had no faith in God to begin with. I see you reading Nietzsche.”

Walter disliked the slur on one of his childhood heroes and threw a quote back, instantly regretting it. “Faith is not wanting to know what the truth is, Herr Rittmeister.”

Manfred took two quick steps into the office, the sudden aggressive movement causing Walter to stand up himself, moving the chair away from the desk in order to have a clear path to deal with the possible threat to his personal safety. Manfred’s face was twisted into a fearsome expression, his eyes narrowed, his fair face bright red, and his lower jaw thrust forward, the lower lip curled down to expose his small, even, lower teeth. His body positively shook with rage, his hands curled into fists.

“I know what the truth is, Vogel. The truth is that you lied to her, and she can no longer trust you, and by her reasoning, can no longer trust herself. That is why she lies in bed crying all day, all night and I am sleeping in a chair in her room so that she does not hurt herself! If I wasn’t a proper gentleman, I’d have taken you out back behind the barn and given you the thrashing you so rightly deserve!” Manfred roared.

With a hissed “Zum Donnerwetter!” Manfred turned on his heel and left the office in brisk strides, slamming the door behind him.

Stunned, Walter reached for the office chair and sat shakily down into it. He fumbled with the lighter and the pack of cigarettes for a few minutes before he was able to get one into his mouth and light it. He’d never seen that side of Manfred before and he was ashamed to admit it scared the hell out of him. The phone rang again, and he let it go to voicemail while he stared out into space, the last thing Manfred said running through his head.

Lothar was in the middle of pouring a decent measure of Irish whiskey into his half-filled coffee cup when the door to the office slammed and his brother walked into the kitchen, a furious expression on his face. His own expression unreadable, Lothar silently pushed the nearly-lethal boozy coffee cup over to his brother and began to pour another one. He had half-heard the conversation between Walter and Manfred, and it bothered him deeply to think that he had caused this problem between the two, and Karena, with his own actions. Karena wasn’t an object to be possessed, or a prize to be won, he thought in a moment of terrified clarity. She was upstairs, hurt, and he knew that if he told her that he had made up the conflict to win her affection, and had no idea it was the actual truth, he might hurt her even further. He was in deep shit, and he had no idea how to get himself out of the situation.

Moritz looked up from the couch at the door slamming and decided to remain there – he knew when his Master was in a mood like this, it was best to not bother him, even if he was a good half-hour late with his breakfast.

Lothar waited for his brother to calm down and say something; it wasn’t every day that Manfred completely lost his temper. In fact, the last time he could clearly remember was the incident with Anthony Fokker and the cheap doping material on the dreideckers that had caused his nearly-fatal accident in March, a month before Manfred’s own death. Fokker had come to visit Lothar in the hospital at the same time Manfred did and nearly stayed there himself after Manfred was done chewing him out.

Lothar watched Manfred pat his pockets and frown, and quietly slid over his own cigarettes and lighter.

Manfred’s hands shook as he tapped out a cigarette and reached for the coffee cup his brother had pushed towards him. He brought it to his mouth to take a sip and was nearly knocked over by the strong smell of the whiskey.

“Jesus, Lothar, a little coffee with your whiskey?” Manfred said, setting the cup back down with a grimace.

Lothar took his cigarettes back and lit one of his own. “You look like you need it more than I do, Manne. I heard you giving Vogel a piece of your mind. I think the whole town heard it. Why do you continue to try to fix that train wreck of a relationship?”

Manfred picked up the coffee cup again and took another short sip, squinting at the burn of the alcohol. “Because of her. I don’t understand why I feel this way, but it’s almost a gut instinct to want to protect her; when she’s in a state like this, she’s vulnerable, my mind tells me, and it stirs something inside me. If I can get Vogel to just bloody realize what he did and apologize, it might help her sleep better, which is a start.”

Lothar raised his eyebrows and took a long sip from his own cup. “You were like this with Lea, if I remember right. At least in the letters; you were talking about her going out on her own to purchase for her company and how you didn’t like it. So, do you love her, then?”

Manfred set the cup down and looked up at his brother. “I didn’t like the idea of Lea dealing with unscrupulous businessmen, Lothar. As for Karena? No. I care for her, like I would Ilse or any of our other female family members. There’s certainly nothing of the feelings you have for her in me, Lothar. Why aren’t you up there, taking my place in the chair?”

Lothar turned his head away from his brother, hiding the worry that he felt at the moment, and the partial lie he was about to tell. “I … I don’t think it’s appropriate at the moment. To jump in, to insinuate myself into her life when she’s just had her heart broken.. it doesn’t seem right.”



Manfred noted the posture Lothar had adopted, and knew there was something else behind the reason, but chose not to pursue it at the moment. “But, you love her.”

Lothar turned back with a sigh. “Desperately. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Doris, I loved Fern – but it wasn’t like this. Doris I did wrong. She didn’t know how to deal with a broken man like me, and it ruined us. Karena, I feel like she understands. She’s been there. We had some very deep conversations via the board before all of this.”

Manfred set down his half-full coffee cup and crushed out his cigarette. “I remember. Sometimes, you’d come back from those looking absolutely haunted.”

Lothar nodded. “Well, we WERE dead. But yes. She pulled out my pain, aired it out for me to see, and together, we worked it out and made it go away. I’m not saying that there aren’t times that I still have nightmares… but…”

Manfred poured more coffee into his cup in an attempt to thin out the alcohol.  “She’s been having them, too. Bad ones.”


 

Lothar turned to face his brother, worry in his deep bronze eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Manfred sipped at the coffee, grimaced and set it back down, pushing the cup back towards his brother, shaking his head. “You said – you had your own to deal with. I hear you at night sometimes, shouting. How you don’t wake her or Vogel up is astonishing.”

Lothar replaced his nearly empty cup with his brother’s, tossing it back in a few large gulps. He rinsed both cups in the sink before refilling one with fresh coffee. “I think we both need to clear our heads and go for a ride. Maybe we can suggest Karena comes with us. That horse of hers helps her feel better, even if he gives us all the evil eye.”

Manfred nodded. “When I bring her breakfast upstairs, I’ll ask her. Why don’t you go get them ready for us?”

Lothar looked into the pastry box as his brother picked up the breakfast tray, frowning at the lack of pfannkuchen. “Aw, there’s only schnecken left.”

“I knew it was you, eating my pfannkuchen. You know Karena and I are fond of them.” Manfred said over his shoulder.

“Na na, there was drei when I came down and had one, bruder. That fat flatlander must have eaten one, too!” Lothar protested.

We should be glad that the archangel isn’t here – there’d be none left at ALL, you know.”

Manfred rolled his eyes and continued up the stairs with Karena’s breakfast. He was hoping that he could convince her to come riding with him and his brother, but he didn’t have much faith she’d want to get out of bed. He paused on the stairs and turned back to his brother.

“Hey, I forgot to feed Moritz this morning, would you? Just one scoop.” he asked.

Moritz looked up at Manfred at the mention of his name and wagged his tail, but the friendly gesture was ignored, and he rested his head back down on his paws, waiting for Manfred to return. He heard Lothar whistle for him, along with the patter of his breakfast being poured into his bowl, and he rolled off the couch to go eat.

Walter hung up the phone and set the answering machine on; he had had quite enough for the day, and his stomach was reminding him it was nearly lunch. He gathered his notes and paperwork into a pile, tapping it to get it to even up, when a photo he had taken of Karena fell out of the stack. He picked it up and stared at it, studying the way Karena had looked up at him. He reached into his pocket, opened his wallet and pulled out a picture of Collette and him that his Funkmaats friend, Viktor, had taken, and compared the two. Karena’s smile was nearly identical to Collette’s, even if their hairstyles were completely different. He looked again at the picture of Collette and sighed, his heart sinking.

You really messed things up, Walter, he thought, you should have told her – then and now. Shaking his head, he put both pictures in his wallet and stood up.

He left the office, closing the door behind him, and went towards the front of the house, missing Lothar by a few minutes. He grabbed his coat by the door and left down the road to the Harp, where he knew he’d be able to have a few beers with his lunch, and perhaps forget about his troubles for a while.

Lothar entered the barn and was greeted with the soft nickering of the horses. He gave each of them their morning grain measure, and Pepin his special supplement for his hooves. The chestnut gelding head butted him in the belly as if to say “hurry up!” and Lothar gave him a small push back.

“Just a minute, you greedy gut.” Lothar said, dumping the small scoop of pellets on top of the sweet feed in the small black rubber dish.

He exited the stall, and used the safety latch like Manfred had shown him earlier in the week, when they were taking turns taking care of the horses. Lothar noticed that Walter hardly ever dirtied his hands with barn chores, but he did a good portion of the vacuuming, dusting and mopping in the house, so he wasn’t THAT angry with him about it.

He set the night grain in the scoops into the feed bin, and went into the tack room to get the tack together for Santuzza and Antithesis. Karena, he figured, would tack up her own horse – he didn’t want to put the wrong tack on him and have her be upset. He’d leave Rosie in her stall with an extra measure of hay and the radio on while they went riding; he didn’t want her to be anxious about being alone, and he had overheard Karena say something about the radio being left on to keep her calm.

He pulled Santuzza out first, as she had finished her breakfast, and curried her while he hummed a very off-key rendition of Danny Boy. He tacked her up and left her in the first set of crossties while he went to get his brother’s horse and perform the same tasks.

Karena heard Manfred’s slow, steady gait on the stairs and looked up from her seat at the window, still in her robe, her hair in soft, damp waves.

“Oh, you’re up. Breakfast at the window, then? We’ll have to order more pfannkuchen, these are the last two.” Manfred said, placing the tray on the small side table by one of the windows.

“Yes, thank you. Last of them, eh? Perhaps we should switch to something less sugary, then. It’s probably not good for me, in the long run.” Karena said as she sat down in the upholstered chair and brought her coffee to her lips. She closed her eyes as she sipped at it, enjoying the perfection.

“Mm, you always make my coffee so perfect, Manfred. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Well, I think Vogel brewed it, but you would not have liked the one Lothar gave me. So full of whiskey it was flammable. I don’t know why he continues to do that.” Manfred said, pulling the dressing chair to the table to sit with his friend.

“Habit. Whiskey counteracts the castor oil, or so it was rumored. Though the amount of morphine your brother ingested back then to deal with his pain would have counteracted the most powerful of laxatives.” Karena said, biting into her jelly donut, the powdered sugar making a ring around her mouth.

Manfred smiled at Karena, remembering when she was little and the same thing would happen when she would eat the pastry.

“I’ve got it on my face again, haven’t I?” Karena said.

“Of course. Just like I would always get the sugar on my uniform. Some things never change.”

“Was Walter in the office still?” Karena asked.

Manfred frowned, remembering the exchange and wondering if she had heard it.

“Erm, yes. As far as I know, anyway; the door was still closed.” he said softly, sipping at his coffee.

“I heard you going at him.” Karena murmured.

“How… how much did you hear?” Manfred stammered, embarrassed that he had lost his temper.

“Not too much; this house is super insulated so not a lot of noise gets through the floors. I did hear something about a sound thrashing, though. You didn’t, did you?”

Manfred set down his cup and took up the jelly donut, taking a large bite and chewing thoughtfully before replying.
“I wanted to, but no.”

“I want to know what you two had discussed out on the porch when you first came here – it seems to me that you and Walter have more against each other than Lothar and him, which wasn’t something I expected. See, there I go again – I didn’t anticipate that, and I should have.” Karena said, her mood taking a sharp drop.

“It’s a man thing, schatz. And an officer thing. Two stallions fighting over who gets to lead the herd. Vogel technically outranks me, but I am older than he is, technically, and I have the added benefit of being both of the Junkers social class and a ‘war hero’.” Manfred said the last two words sarcastically.

“He did say something, though, that I neglected to mention to you – when he admitted to you being his past mistress, he said ‘last’ mistress. So there were maybe none past Collette?”

Karena stopped in mid-sip of her coffee. “He said what?”

Manfred noted the look on Karena’s face, a mixed expression of confusion and hope. He didn’t understand relationships very well, and he hoped that he had not messed things up, again.

“He said you were his last mistress.”

Karena sat back in her chair, the coffee cup cradled in her hands. “Well, that stands to reason. I mean, it was mid-1943 when we… separated, and he was killed the next Spring. Probably didn’t have time to con another woman into his bed.”

Manfred thought about how Lothar seemed to flit from woman to woman during the war and nodded. “That’s probably it. I wouldn’t know, personally, about all of this mistress business.”

Karena smiled as Manfred blushed slightly. “You only had Kate and Lea, right? I mean, I know you had fangirls, I remember you saying something about it in your autobiography.”

Manfred sighed. “Oh yes, many. Lothar used to love to tear open the bags and BAGS of mail and read the more salacious ones, out loud, waggling his eyebrows at me, dragging the often perfumed paper under his nose and other crude gestures. I made sure Franz separated out Lea and Kate’s before he could get to them though.”

“What made you choose Lea over Kate, Manfred? Did something happen?” Karena asked, setting down her empty coffee cup.

Manfred smiled as he began to reminisce about a very private part of his life, one he thought he’d never be able to tell anyone, not even his brother. It felt right to share it with Karena, he thought. She, of all people, could understand it the best.

“Kate was before Lea; she was my nurse, as you know – but once I had healed enough, she was re-posted to a different hospital and her letters came less and less frequently. I was never a big letter-writer myself, but hers stopped right about the time I went to the Black Forest on furlough. I figured she had decided that we weren’t going to work out. It hurt, that’s for sure. I was actually more invested in the relationship than she was, apparently. I was drowning my sorrows in a pub and this small, dark-haired beauty came in, dressed in pants, or what looked to be a split skirt, and proceeded to take the bartender to task for shorting her payment for the wine, the very wine I was drinking. She was a little spitfire, that’s for sure. She came over and asked each customer which wine they were drinking, and what the bartender had charged for it. When she got to me, I had to stammer out that he had not charged me because of who I was, and the look she gave me made my heart flip a few times. I haven’t been that out of sorts since Old Count Holck and I went through that thunderstorm! She didn’t believe that I was who I said I was, until a hastily procured signed picture was given to her, and even then, she was skeptical.”

Karena laughed behind her hand at Manfred’s story. “She was no fangirl, then.”

Manfred chuckled. “Definitely not. I had to take her out to dinner to convince her that I was not some impostor. She found a small out of the way restaurant she supplied with her wine trade, and we were able to enjoy a nice meal; though our stroll in the town wasn’t as pleasant – autograph hounds, little kids, the whole nine yards. I think that finally convinced her.”

“So, how did you two start dating?” Karena asked.

“Oh, she had a day off and wanted to go fishing. Fishing! I was definitely up to taking her, and during my two weeks off, we became fast friends. I ended up contracting her to supply my geschwader with wine, as she could source some of the best of it, and we corresponded regularly after that. I think it was about 4 months later when I was able to secure another few days off and that’s when I told her how I felt. I was so afraid she’d be like Kate and just laugh and brush me off, but she said she felt the same way. About six weeks before I was… you know.. I had bought a ring and the next furlough, on the 22nd of April, I was going to propose. Mother would have been supremely angry with me, though I didn’t care.” Manfred closed his eyes for a moment and smiled wistfully.

“God, I do miss her. I wasn’t able to find her in the aether, and that bothered me.”

“I think the Carisella biography spoke of her. I have that one downstairs.” Karena said.

“Yes, it did. I ended up throwing it across the room when I heard of what Mother did to her. Sorry.” Manfred replied.

“Understandable.”

Karena and Manfred sat in silence for a few moments, both looking out the window. They saw Lothar bringing Santuzza and then Antithesis out into the barnyard, clipping their leads to the hitching post.

“Are you two going for a ride?” Karena asked.

“Oh, yes – I was to ask you if you wanted to come with us. I think a good long ride would do us all a little good.” Manfred replied.

“Oh. I would, but I’m not feeling up to riding just yet. But I will come down and sit in the sun while you two go. I’ll be okay by myself.” Karena murmured.

Manfred remained silent as he saw the clouds pass over Karena’s face again. No way in hell was he going to leave her alone here with Vogel, even if she said she would be all right. He needed the ride, but Lothar might be able to be convinced to stay home, with a little persuasion. He stood up from the table and gathered the dishes onto the tray.

“I’ll go put these in the dishwasher, then. Do you want more coffee?”

Karena looked away from the window and smiled wanly at Manfred. “No, thank you. I’ll just have some iced rosewater tea if there’s any left in the refrigerator. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

Manfred rested his hand on her shoulder a minute before picking up the tray and going downstairs. He wished he knew how to make her feel confident again; seeing her like this reminded him of the times when his Guide work frustrated him, when he was unable to be physically present to help her during her times of deep depression. Now, he was present, and still had no idea how to fix this situation.

Lothar pinched the cherry off his unfiltered cigarette butt onto the dirt and ground it in with the toe of his boot, pocketing the remains out of habit. He was in the process of cleaning out Santuzza's hooves when he saw his brother approaching, looking preoccupied.

Lothar rested his hand on his hip, shifting to take the pressure off of it. “So, that’s a no?”

Manfred shook his head sadly. “She said she’d come down in a little bit, but didn’t feel up to riding.”

Lothar began to turn towards Santuzza, crestfallen. “Should I untack them both, then?”

Manfred took a pair of gloves out of his pocket and put them on before going towards Antithesis. “No, at least not Antithesis. I need to go for a long ride and do some thinking. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Hand me his reins. I left Moritz inside, keep him there until I’m out of sight. He will probably want to stay with Karena anyway.”

Lothar handed his brother the reins to his horse and unclipped the lead from the hitching post. He started to loosen Santuzza’s girth, flipping the left stirrup up and over the saddle. “I’ll untack Tuzza and let the other two out, then. Kind of relieved, honestly. I was about to curry the red devil of hers.”

Manfred set his foot in the stirrup and bounced a few times before swinging into the saddle, bending down to put his right foot in the other iron. “Would have been nice if Gabriel was here. We could have both gone, or all four of us. Karena said Vogel doesn’t like to ride that much, and I don’t like leaving her mare here all by herself.”

Lothar hefted the saddle and pad off of Santuzza in a fluid motion. “Yeah. Gabriel said he won’t be back for a couple of days. Odd of him to desert us at a time when we really could use him the most, especially regarding the geis.”

Manfred stood in his stirrups and readjusted his pants before sitting back down. “There was so much going on, I think it slipped his and Grim’s minds that there was a schedule to keep. We were supposed to be getting ready for two more on Yule, but now I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Lothar set the saddle and pad over the horizontal part of the hitching post and began to remove Santuzza’s bridle. “You’ve taken over as head honcho pretty quickly here, I see.”

Manfred gave a strained smile as he took up the reins, ready to give the cue to walk on.

“Well, you and I both know that Vogel is not up to the job, and Karena is not well at the moment. Once she is better, I will go back to deferring to her. Give me a hand, eh?”  he said, jerking his head towards the gates.

Lothar left Santuzza’s halter on and went to the gate to let his brother and his horse out into the second barnyard, following them to the second gate that separated the lot from the small forested area beyond.
“I think she knows just about the same amount as we do in this whole crazy affair.”

Manfred nodded his thanks as he went through the last gate. “Probably.”

Lothar leaned against the gate, sending the bolt home before turning to take care of the remaining horses. “Have a good ride, brother.” he said.

Manfred turned his horse around and raised his voice slightly to get his brother’s attention. “I think it’s time you told her exactly how you feel, Lothar. It might set things right.”

Lothar stopped in mid stride and spun around, a panicked look on his face. “Oh oh no no no. I can’t. I’m…”

Manfred tightened the reins as Antithesis danced, wanting to get going. “You must. I think it will do you both good. Hals und Beinbruch, Lotte-lotting.”

Lothar stared out into space as his brother made a loud kissing sound and rode away at a brisk trot.

Karena made her way into the kitchen, her slippered feet making a scuffing noise. Moritz wagged his tail at her as he stood by the back door, whining.

“Left you here, did he? Such a mean daddy he is. Let’s see if momma can find you a tweat then. You leaving greycat alone, right?” Karena said, rummaging in the pet food cupboard for a large porkhide bone-shaped chew.

Moritz turned away from the door and trotted over to Karena, his tail wagging furiously. He didn’t mind being left with the nice lady, since she always gave him things to chew on. He butted his head against her outstretched hand before taking the treat delicately from her and going to the rug in front of the fireplace to chew on it.

Greyson leapt up onto the counter and meowed, waiting patiently for his own breakfast; he had adjusted to the presence of the dog and rather enjoyed eating from the counter rather than on the floor. It kept the dog from going after his food, something Lothar had noticed and mentioned to Karena in the past week.

Karena opened a can of cat food and plopped it into his dish, mashing it lightly with a spoon before rinsing both the can and the utensil off in the sink. She reached into the cupboard and pulled out a tall glass, filling it with ice from the icemaker before opening the fridge and searching for her rosewater tea. She filled her glass and set it next to the neatly folded newspaper on the counter before going towards the office to see what Walter was up to.

She noted the door was open and he was not there. Frowning, she went back to the kitchen, pausing in the hall to see that his coat was missing, too. 

She shrugged her shoulders, thinking that he’d probably gone to lunch out of the house. Picking up her glass, she went through the back door onto the back porch and sat down on the bench.

She saw Santuzza rolling in the paddock, all four hooves flailing in the air, and wondered where Lothar was.

Lothar led Rosie out of her stall and into the paddock. He saw Karena and gave her a short wave before turning back to get Pepin, who was still in the crossties.

Pepin tossed his head and gave a soft whicker at Lothar. He liked both Manfred and Lothar; they were never late with his grain and never smelled nervous around him or the other horses. He still didn’t care for Antithesis, but there was a grudging respect after the two had a small scuffle in the paddock. Antithesis left Rosie alone, and he left Santuzza alone, and that was settled.

Lothar smiled at the stocky red gelding’s friendly greeting.

“Well, that’s new for you, you red devil. Sorry about the late start this morning. Your mother is sad, and we’re trying to help. Let’s get you out into the yard so you can have a good roll. Antithesis is with Manfred, so you’ll have the girls all to yourself.”

Pepin tossed his head and snorted, eager to go. He stretched his head out to allow Lothar to clip on the lead rope, and walked quietly behind him into the yard.

“Why the hell do I get the feeling you understood me?” Lothar asked Pepin as he unhooked the lead rope.

Pepin turned around and stuck his nose in Lothar’s face, giving him a quick lick on the cheek before trotting off in the direction of the mares, tossing his head as if laughing.

“Blegh! Who taught you that!” Lothar exclaimed, wiping off horse spit.

He coiled the lead rope and hooked it to the outside wall with the others before walking back toward the house, still wiping his face.

Karena saw the exchange and laughed out loud at Pepin’s antics. She had taught him to kiss, and he would on occasion try to lick her face. She almost always could dodge it, but Lothar had not known of the trick.


 

She was still giggling as Lothar came up the stairs to the porch and sat next to her, stretching out his long legs.

“Found that funny, did you?” he said, “You taught him that?”

“I did, but I know when he’s going to try to lick me. He’s never done it to other people before.” Karena chortled.

“Ha, thanks for the warning, then. Manfred needed to go for a ride to clear his head, by the way. He chewed Vogel a new one. Surprised it didn’t wake you.”

“I was in the shower when I heard the shouting, but it was pretty muffled with the water. I’m not surprised Manfred needed some time alone. He’s been sleeping in the chair in my room. He doesn’t need to, honestly. I’m… mostly okay. Just some bad dreams, that’s all.”

Lothar reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his cigarettes and lighter. He lit one and took a long drag before replying,  “He cares about you, Karena. He always has, you know.”

Karena nodded, sipping at her tea. “I know. I just… I don’t understand why I wasn’t able to see through Walter’s lies. I can’t...”

Lothar exhaled sharply. It’s better she knows, he thought; even if she hates me afterwards, I’ve been honest, which is more than that fat bastard has been to her. “Vogel’s lies have nothing to do with your abilities, Karena! He’s an asshole, Karena, a selfish, arrogant asshole who only thinks with his dick! I knew there was something up with him, I just couldn’t put my finger on it, and even though I had no evidence...”

Karena set her glass down and looked at Lothar. “What do you mean, you had no evidence? Lothar, what did you DO?”

Lothar took a deep breath, his hands trembling. He knew he was taking a huge risk in telling Karena the truth, but he knew that he had to, to make things right. He stood up suddenly from the bench and started pacing back and forth, his anxiety not allowing him to stay still, his hands gesticulating wildly.

“Karena, I.. I.. I’m sorry. I wanted to win. There were so many times Vogel would come back from talking with you in the aether, with this smug-ass superior look on his face, and rub it in that you loved him more than you loved ME – I wanted revenge. I didn’t tell anyone else what I was thinking; for once I kept my thoughts to myself. I know now it was wrong, that you’re not an object or a trophy to be won, but.. but… how was I supposed to know what I made up was actually the truth? I feel awful. I hurt you. I lied to you. I’m no better than that fat bastard!”

Karena stared off into the paddock, stunned. Lothar sat down on the back steps, his head in his hands, curling into himself as much as he could.

“You… you made it up? How in the hell could you make up such a thing?” Karena asked softly, incredulously. “And then how could it come to actually be the truth?”

Lothar gave a pained groan, palming his eyes. “I, I don’t know. I’m sure if Manfred knew, I’d be in the process of reattaching my head right now instead of confessing to you. I feel like shit, knowing that what I did hurt you so much. It was never my intention, Karena, never. I am so sorry that I hurt you. I’ll never forgive myself.”

Karena looked at Lothar, who looked back up at her, on the verge of tears.

“I’ll accept anything you want to say to me, Karena. I know what I did was wrong. Just… “

Karena patted the bench. “Sit.”

Lothar got up slowly and sat back down on the bench, turning his body away from Karena.

“I know you’re angry with me. You have every right to be.” he said softly.

“The thing is? I’m not. I think the Gods knew, and pushed you to act because I was too stupid to see it myself! I was blinded by the whole situation; that the man I had a past life with was back, alive, and seemingly as in love with me as I was with him, now, and then. It was like the Gods had given me this gift, but it came with a warning label AND fine print, and I read neither. Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t made the blood sigil on the mirror and just did what I was planning to do, even if it would have meant even more pain to Pepin and Rosie, who would have no master to feed them… I wasn’t thinking straight.” Karena sighed.

It was Lothar’s turn to look shocked.

“You, you tried to….”

“Yes. After Sean had killed Greyson. I was going to, I had called Death to ensure of the transition, but… he appeared, brought Gabriel along, resurrected Greyson, and all of a sudden, my entire life was no longer under my control, but under this stupid geis. Why the hell would I want to save a world that never tried once to save me? Hunh? Look what humans do to each other in the names of their Gods? What’s one more world-ending apocalypse – it would probably be a good thing, in all honesty.” Karena said bitterly.

Lothar shook his head. “But then you would have been taken to Hela’s hall, and I’d have never seen you again! None of us would have! Karena, if you only knew of the times my brother wanted to burst through that veil and protect you, or the times I wanted to myself and just hold you, give you comfort...I know it’s difficult, this geis. But there’s a reason the Gods chose you. I know there is, there HAS to be. Are you seeing any answers to that in your dreams? Manfred says you’re having nightmares…”

Lothar was rambling now, in an attempt to bring Karena back from the brink of her depressive thoughts.

“Your faith in the Gods exceeds mine, Lothar. You’re right though – if you were right about Walter’s lies, then who’s to say you’re not right about this, too? There’s been no answer in my dreams to this geis. They are just your garden variety ‘everyone abandons me and I’m alone in a dark alley with people who want to hurt me’ ones. No answer in the book Grim gave me, either.” Karena replied.

Lothar relaxed his posture and scooted closer to Karena. “I’ve been having them too. I think because of my guilt. I dream of losing all the people I love and being alone … and then my damn leg wakes me up.”

Karena looked up at Lothar. “I thought that wasn’t supposed to affect you, your leg. Gabriel said any reincarnate would be whole again.”

Lothar grimaced. “Yeah, well that’s not the case. Manfred’s been having his headaches, Vogel’s got wicked indigestion. I see him go through bottles of that pink stuff.”

Karena frowned. “None of you should be having any sort of medical issues from your past. Walter’s indigestion is because he eats like a starving man AND his guilt is eating him alive. Serves him fucking right. By the way, did you happen to see him after Manfred’s confrontation this morning?”

Lothar shook his head again. “Na. I figured he’d gone off to eat somewhere. Apparently your cooking is no longer good enough for him, I guess. Snobby little fuck.”

Karena gave a thin smile at the dig. “No, it’s that he isn’t brave enough to admit that he fucked up and face me.”

Lothar looked at Karena, his eyes wide. “I still haven’t apologized, though.”

Karena reached for Lothar’s hand and held it tightly. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for, Lothar. What you did was the will of the Gods. Just in case, though, I forgive you.”

Lothar impulsively gathered Karena to him and held her tightly as tears ran down his face; it was the scariest thing he’d done in a long time, confessing his transgressions. Feeling Karena sink into him with a soft sigh, he loosened his hold and caressed her hair with his free hand. Yes, this felt right, he thought.

A good three hours later, with the sun just beginning to kiss the horizon, Manfred dismounted at the first gate and let himself in, leading Anthithesis behind him. He crossed the yard to the second gate and looked up at the porch. He smiled as he saw Lothar and Karena sleeping in each other’s arms. He had no idea what had transpired, but the peaceful sight gave him hope that things would start turning around.