Heart of Steel Ch. 03

When the hole was dug deep enough and the sun was high in the sky, blazing down upon the sand and speckling the ocean surface with its rays, Tristan's parents bid the two youths farewell and ventured off to look for souvenirs and get out of the sun for a while. This left Tristan and Maul to themselves on their little spot on the beach. Tristan sat in the incredibly deep hole, leaning back against one of its sides, with his head resting on the sand while he watched Maul scamper about and build her sand kingdom.

"What are you doing?" he asked suddenly as Maul began pushing heaps of sand back into the hole, sand which now began to cover his crossed legs.

"Burying you in sand." she answered cutely.

"Stop, you're getting me all sandy." he demanded.

"Come on," she pouted, "let me have some fun, it's vacation."

"Damn you and your cuteness." was Tristan's relenting response.

Tristan sat back and let his pixie-like girlfriend fill back in the hole around him. The sand, soft yet still detectably granular, piled in around him slowly but gradually filled the hole until only his head was visible on the flat beach. Tristan found himself feeling rather strikingly immobile as Maul crawled toward him across the surface of the former hole, before kissing him fiercely. She covered his face with eager kisses whilst he playfully squirmed and protested as though her advances were unwanted. But in time, Maul unburied Tristan sufficiently so that he could extricate himself from the hole he'd dug, at which point he began to chase her across the beach and into the ocean where they splashed about amidst the foaming surf until they were both as clean of sand as they could hope to get.

Back in the hotel room, the couple relaxed and enjoyed themselves. And thus the pattern continued, of fun and delight, until they returned back to Pine Ridge. Every once in a while, the good mood would escalate and Tristan would, ironically, feel thus compelled to tell his parents of his past hardships. But he never seemed able to move forward with it. The potential energy would build and build, but he never descended from the crest of that hill, never turned that energy into the kinetic energy it needed to be. Perhaps it was for the best, lest he ruin the spirit of the occasion. And so he stayed silent on this matter and let himself relax and be filled with vacation glee until they returned to his apartment.

"I just don't know what they'd gain from it." he explained to Maul while they watched an old Xena rerun on television.

"How could you not see what they'd gain?" she asked.

"Enlighten me."

"They need to know you like few others do," Maul replied, "they're your parents, they need to know why certain things might bother you, why you may be upset, or why you may enter bad moods. That's what they would gain."

"I can keep it in control, I don't need to burden them." Tristan countered.

"Your true friends and those who love you will never be burdened by being supportive for you." Maul assured him, gazing up at him.

/But how can I be sure they'll want to know, maybe it will just disturb or disgust them,/ Tristan thought.

Maul changed the subject after that, and they began discussing a Mayhem concert coming up in the next few weeks. They both desperately wanted to go, and it was a welcome change of discussion. That and a brief discussion of the Xena battle-cry, as heard on their television. Their informed, scholarly consensus was that it was a very hot battle-cry and that Maul should learn to do it. With such odd discussions as this, they whiled away the rest of the day until the night came and slumber claimed them.

But the summer was far from over, their vacation having taken place in early June. Tristan was not working at Records until later in the afternoon the day after their return, so Maul decided they should go out for coffee around lunch time. It was that decision that caused them to run into the protestors.

The protestors were a moderately-sized group of college women marching up and down the block on the university's main road. Recently, the university had been encouraged by its more activist students to expand its Women's Studies department. However, the president and board of trustees had opted out of the offer, claiming a need for more careful budgeting, which smacked of greed in so much as this budgeting did not cause the president to take any sort of pay cut.

Tristan and Maul were making their way toward a nearby coffee shop when the path of the protestors crossed with their intended course. The women, Tristan recognized some of them from his Feminist Debate course, were walking together in a tightly-packed group, shrilly calling out slogans of protest at passersby.

"Fight for women's liberty, end the reign of tyranny!" they chanted loudly. "Patriarchy? It is wrong. Fight for freedom all day long! History we say to learn, but her-story now needs its turn!"

"Tristan, are you okay?" Maul asked.

It was then that Tristan realized he had frozen in place and was stepping back cautiously, putting himself behind Maul. / I'm not afraid! I support this, I agree with them. Why am I doing /this?!/ Tristan couldn't understand it. They weren't threatening him, and even if someone was, he could defend himself, he knew that. But the anger in their voices, the shrill words, even if they were agreeable words, just struck inside Tristan and filled him with dismay. The words themselves did not run through his mind, only their tone, their cutting delivery. How much those harsh shouts reminded him of Crystal's orders or Hilja's taunts. The voices clouded his mind, eclipsing the commendable message they were spreading and filling him with fear. Maul easily detected this, and, kind as she was, took his hand and began to lead him away from them.

"Hey," called one of them, "don't walk away from us! We're telling the truth, open your eyes for a change and see what we have to offer!"

She took a step forward, and Tristan, despite his strength, despite his skills-in-training, felt himself trembling. His rational mind knew all was well, that he was wrong for being afraid, but his irrational mind was only thinking: /is she going to hurt me?/ The girl moved forward, flanked by a few others, an off-shoot from the group.

"You can't honestly disagree with us so strongly as to walk away!" she harshly chastised.

"Yeah, be a MAN." sneered one of the girls beside her.

"God damn it, leave him alone," Maul roared at last, "can't you see he's terrified?! Of course he agrees with you, he's not a sexist, but loud, angry females scare him."

"What? Why?" asked the girl who'd started toward them.

"It's personal," Maul answered, "but have some damn sympathy, can you not see him shaking?"

The girl stopped and looked at Tristan. Then, motioning her friends back, she hurried forward, a concerned look on her face.

"Oh my God," she whispered, "oh I didn't see that, honestly, oh my God is he okay?"

"Like I said, just scared." Maul clarified.

"We really didn't mean it," the girl promised, "we thought he was just being an ass-hole and telling you to walk away from us or something."

"No, no I wouldn't." Tristan murmured meekly. "I agree with all of you girls, I'm just... I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay." she assured them. "Seriously, we're out to be heard, not to scare anyone. Well," she added with a laugh, "not anyone on our side. Strong, independent women can't help but scare the closed-minded though."

"That is true." Tristan weakly laughed. "I hope I didn't offend you women."

"It's fine," she reassured, "I'll tell everyone what was going on and no one will give you any shit, man. Sorry about that."

In a gregarious gesture of kindness, she hugged both Tristan and Maul before returning to her group. The girls whispered amongst themselves for a while before looking over at Tristan. Some looked skeptical, others smiled warmly, as if to say, "It's okay, we know you're on our side." And with that feeling of anxiety drained away by their kindness, Tristan was able to carry on past the group, even when they took up their rightfully angry chanting and reassumed their march up and down the street.

Finally, the pair reached a coffee shop just south of campus, on the same street as Records, in fact. After placing their orders, they sat outside sipping iced drinks and enjoying the sunny summer day in each other's company.

"Maul," Tristan spoke up, "you've got to know I'm not a sexist, I totally agree with them. I was just scared, I don't know why."

"It makes perfect sense." Maul replied. "Strong and capable as you are, it's totally reasonable that angry female voices might still make you feel somewhat weak, even give you flashbacks. It's like a soldier hearing something that sounds like a mortar or whatever and, strong as they surely are, feeling dreadful memories of the battlefield return."

"Yeah," Tristan agreed, "I guess that makes sense. I just know how that must have looked, and I feel kind of like shit about it."

"You clarified everything and the women were really nice." Maul reminded him. "No one thinks badly of you, honey. But this is another good reason to consider telling your parents."

"Why?"

"Do you want them to think something is wrong with you if something like this happens when you're with them?" Maul pointed out. "They'll have no way of knowing your motivations and fears. I'm not going to force you to tell them, I'd never do that, I swear, but it is worth considering."

"I guess... I'll consider it." Tristan said at last. "But what will they think?"

"We don't know that," she admitted, "we'll never know that until we tell them."

"We?"

"Well you, but I'll be with you, to support you." Maul encouraged. "And they'll love you, no matter what. So will I."

"I'll consider it."

Chapter 17: Heart of Steel

"Tristan, are you sure this is what you want to do?" Maul asked for perhaps the eighth or ninth time.

"Why," Tristan enquired, "do you think it's a bad idea?"

"Of course not," Maul clarified hastily, "I think it's very brave, I think you'll be safe, and I'll be with you. But I don't want you to freeze up and get scared or something, you know?"

"I know, and that might happen," Tristan admitted, "but it needs to be done, I just feel it. I've been thinking about it a lot."

"I know you have. If you're up for it, let's do it."

The summer had not yet come to a close, but that time was nearing, drawing on fast. Tristan had been thinking about Maul's advice, to tell his parents about everything, for a long while. And he'd made up his mind at last on exactly what he wanted to do, and exactly how he wanted to do it. This he conveyed to Maul, who listened intently and gleefully approved of his idea. But before he could sit down and do what he knew needed to be done, he had to take care of one thing first, just one last bit of closure. He'd not thought of this before, of solving matters in this way, and of asking this particular question, but it too had to be done. The determination he now felt was overwhelming.

To the end of this new objective, Tristan and Maul had, on a daily basis been frequenting the largest grocery store in Pine Ridge. It was their usual venue for grocery shopping, but on these regular excursions they were only sometimes actually making a purchase. Every time they went, they walked up and down each aisle, diligently looking about them, observing all who passed by.

"Isn't this kind of sick?" Tristan asked at one point. "It's like we're stalking her."

"I think," Maul chuckled warmly, "that we're justified in this particular venture, sweetheart."

It didn't take too long, mid-way through their second week of this routine, that they found what, or who, they were looking for. As they walked down the aisle that housed canned soups and other such things, a black-clad figure came around the opposite corner. Tristan recognized that face, the light skin and slight slant to the eyes, the hair worn in a bob. Mai. But Tristan did not run, he did not freeze or try to hide, even if part of his mind was screaming at him to turn and flee as fast as his legs could carry him.

He gripped Maul's hand tightly and she stepped closer to him, following his gaze to the girl now walking toward them, a hopeful smile on the girl's face. Maul met that smile with a cold stare, a menacing look even from Maul's little frame. And Tristan did not run, he stepped forward, one foot at a time, closing the distance between himself and Mai, against everything his body and mind were telling him to do.

"Please don't run away," Mai said quietly, "I want to talk to you."

"I want to talk as well." Tristan said, keeping calm, his emotions held in reserve. "Let's go somewhere and we'll talk. Somewhere quiet."

"There's that room at the back of the coffee shop by Records." Maul offered. "They use it for poetry readings and private crap. Should be open, we can try there."

"Okay," Mai said hopefully, "let's go!"

Mai abandoned her shopping cart to follow Tristan and Maul the short distance to the coffee shop. It was, luckily, a slow day and they were able to move quickly to the back room without any disturbance. The room was softly lit by lamps set on circular tables, and each of the three youths was able to find a seat on comfortable leather chairs. There they sat, quiet, regarding each other, while a clock on the wall ticked away the moments.

"Tristan," Mai said at last, breaking the silence, "I don't know what this is worth to you, but I'm sorry. I shouldn't have participated in what I did to you, shouldn't have let the others make me do those things to you. I stopped living with them, and I'm very sorry."

Tristan sat there for a moment, quiet, not expecting an apology. Maul squeezed his hand reassuringly, and he summoned up his courage to speak.

"Mai," he said honestly, his words drawn from his deepest emotions, "I truly do not care how sorry you are, or what changes you've made, I cannot forgive you or any of the others for what you did. I was, if a guy can be one, a virgin, and you all took that away from me, took away my ability to feel free and safe for a very long time. I'm still healing, and I'm doing a lot to make my life better, but that doesn't mean I can find it in my heart to forgive you. Maybe I'm not a big enough person, maybe I should be forgiving you and trying to be friends, but I can't."

"Oh." she looked devastated.

"But I didn't just find you to berate you," Tristan added, "I have a very important question."

"What's that?" she looked eager to help.

"This has only recently crossed my mind," Tristan said, "and started to eat at me, so now I need to know. Are you, or any of the others, pregnant by me?"

"What?"

"You never used condoms," he explained, "and you were all very active with me. I never thought about it before, but that could have produced something."

"We, we were on the pill." Mai replied. "None of us wanted children by you, we weren't ready for that."

"Like I wasn't ready for any of it."

"I said I was sorry!" Mai exploded. "I don't know what you want from me."

"To live with it." Tristan said bitterly. "To know that you tried to revoke the will of another being, and to see that being now free and excelling."

"I'm... I'm happy for you. I really am." Mai said quietly.

Maul was holding Tristan's hand, trying hard not to speak out of anger, not to leap to her natural defense of the man she'd so quickly come to love.

"Tristan," Mai asked, "would you like to know my name? Any of our names? I'll tell you, even if you go to the police."

"The police won't do anything," Tristan said, "rape only covers specific circumstances, so I couldn't have you arrested."

"Rape? But we... I mean I guess it was, sort of."

"It was," Tristan informed her, "and no, I don't want to know. I may never be able to put this behind me, but I don't need a lead like names to drag me back into it, to put me or my girlfriend in danger. So no, I don't want to know. But thank you for the offer, and for the apology. I can't forgive you, but it does mean a lot to me."

"Okay, I can accept that." Mai replied with a hopeful smile, thinking perhaps that one day he might be able to forgive her.

"Goodbye, Mai. Thank you for being as gentle to me as you were."

"Goodbye, Tristan. Thank you for talking to me."

Tristan and Maul rose and left the room. But not before Tristan approached Mai and offered his hand. They shook hands, and then he walked away. / Closure, at least as much as I can hope for,/ Tristan thought as their hands parted and he turned away. / That was what I needed, what I needed to hear and know and say./ He was satisfied with this. It was an ending, as best as one could end something that would continue to impact their lives. But an end to what? Certainly not his fear, possibly not even his curiosity. But it set that bridge behind him, leaving him to take other routes in his life. As Manowar sang in one of their greatest ballads, "Burn the bridge behind you, there's only one way home."

Later that night, Maul sat on the couch, clad in her black leather "dominatrix gear." Tristan was bound and helpless in her lap and she cradled him protectively, rocking him back and forth gently and smiling down at him with the look of someone who was truly content.

"Did you get everything out of this afternoon that you wanted, sweetie?" she asked.

"I did," he replied, "it was hard, and I was afraid to ask what I did."

"But you had to know."

"I did," he confirmed, "I'd not thought of it 'til recently, and the idea horrified me. But I'm content now."

"Do you think you'll be able to forgive her?" Maul asked.

"Maybe one day, but not soon." he admitted.

"I don't blame you for that at all."

Maul unbound Tristan and let him curl up against her while she worked on something. Tristan watched her work, drawing on paper with pencil and marker. He quickly realized that the design was a familiar one: the strong warrior standing atop a cliff, this time, holding a sword. The blade was in mid-swing, carving a swathe through the air on its route toward a mighty dragon that was wheeling toward him across the sunny sky. The warrior, even with his epic musculature, was easy to recognize once again, especially since its real-world basis had bulked up a bit.

"You're still drawing me in fantasy form?" he asked sheepishly.

"Less of a fantasy," she replied, "more of a metaphor. See how he's on the edge of a cliff, on the verge of something, and confronted by that beast. He's on his way to slaying it though, see how hit sword is swinging toward the dragon?"

"I do, I get it." Tristan said with a warm smile.

"Heart of Steel." Maul said aloud as she scrawled the title amidst the drawing's clouds in a lavish script. "Here, it's for you."

"I love it, Maul." Tristan said warmly, accepting the drawing. "I'll hang this on the wall, right in here so I can see it all the time. I love you."

"Does that mean you're going to hang me on the wall, too?" Maul giggled.

"Hey you're the one who wields the whip." Tristan reminded her, and they both laughed.

When they lay in bed together that night, holding each other close in the comfortable darkness of the bedroom, Tristan thought of the deeds still to be done. It wasn't going to be easy to set up exactly what he had in mind. But he was going to do it, he was determined. Having debriefed Maul thoroughly on his intended plan, Tristan had her full support and approval, something which he'd rather come to rely on and entirely enjoy.

"So are you sure you want to do everything you've planned?" she once more queried.

"Yes, I don't want to change my mind now." Tristan replied.