Smiling at Grief

The sound rolled in the distance, its undulating waves crashing hard upon the jagged teeth of the shore. The amber sun crawled back to its perch behind the horizon, and a blanket of dark clouds rolled over Illyria and out to sea, out to where Sebastian’s eyes dare not follow. He turned away from the window in the study, back to his business affairs on the table. Sebastian didn’t mind being stranded there the rest of his days, not when he had such good company in his keep. The sea bared no more ventures for him, not since the day of black reckoning that had threatened to pull him under, but God had granted his family a scheme of bizarre providence. His sister was alive, and content with the duke she had been in the pretense of service to. For Sebastian himself, he found a bride and a country to call home. Therefore, he had no purpose to question the grace that he was given, and he could feel its tender glow over his shoulder as Olivia entered the room.

“How now, my love?” He grinned, rising from his chair to meet her. Olivia beamed, but she bared an anxious countenance, causing his stride to falter.

“Is something the matter?” Sebastian inquired, knitting his brow. Olivia sighed and pulled him near, embracing her husband tightly, the words pressing against her chest as she struggled to gather her thoughts. Olivia then pulled away, hesitated, then looked up at Sebastian with careful eyes.

“Do you recall the day we met? How we met?” She asked nervously. Sebastian chuckled. She asked it if they had a lifetime of memories to share. He thought this beyond ironic, but her soft voice, as open as her nature, drew him in.

“Of course, my dear. A month, hence, it still seems wondrous strange. A day forever earmarked in my epitaph,” Sebastian replied, but Olivia bit back a grimace as the thought rose to meet her.

“That’s what I’m apprehensive about,” She said, clasping her hands. A hesitation had been building within Olivia, trembling in her subconscious. She, the orb weaver, had thrown but a gossamer thread upon this man, desperate not to let go. However, there was something that longed to lay to rest, but had been wary to rise till now. She withdrew, and her gaze broke from his, darting toward the window.

“Well, it’s not for me to really say,” Olivia began, hugging her arms, “But my reason has persisted to no avail to dissuade these thoughts.”

“Then tell me.” Sebastian implored. Olivia turned to face him, trying to suppress a frown, and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Sebastian, I feel there’s so much left uncovered between us. Now that I’ve put those circumstances into perspective, what with the confusion between you and your sister, I sense as if there’s a gray area in our thoughts, a field we haven’t crossed together. Yes, we’ve had all this time to know each other, but my disposition is colored lighter than it once was when I met you.”

“How so, fair Olivia? What other colors does your banner wave? Listen, I understand your want of feeling and for this to make sense, but are you not happy?” Sebastian inquired, touching her cheek. She pulled away again, the frown manifesting as she averted her eyes once more.

“I gave myself away, after the death of my brother, and submitted to the reign of dark and injudicious thoughts for many years. I know now how foolish I was in my conduct, and I know why I pursued you; in my confusion, I was bound to Cesario’s attention, Cesario’s affection, but he was your sister, so why did you play along? Why, in your haste, did you spur to marriage having only been in Illyria half a day? I’ve ne’er been able to afford a straight answer from you, Sebastian, and I’ve worried such to a degree of madness. If I don’t know you now, I know not where to go with you from here.” Sebastian stepped back, his mouth slightly agape, but before he could answer, a commotion was heard at the front door — Duke Orsino and Duchess Viola had arrived. They scarce had a chance to continue their conversation before the duke called them over to dine for that evening. Sebastian made a quick apology to his wife and heeded the call; Olivia sulked, floating in her apathy and frustration, following after him down to the dining hall.

It was an easy evening of pleasantry and gossip, but the prickling frustration at the back of Olivia’s mind bothered her throughout its course. Viola noticed this across from her at the table but didn’t want to raise any alarm by mentioning anything out of place. To play coy, she thought to observe Olivia’s behavior through something more mundane.

“Where is your butler since we saw him last, Olivia?” Viola inquired. “Certainly, he’s settled down after we last saw him hence, what with the scheme of madness he was under.” Olivia sighed, shaking her head dismissively.

“Oh, he’s far from comfort, Vi,” Olivia began, listlessly stirring her spoon in her tea. “He took his leave but a half fortnight ago. It wasn’t within my power nor his comfort to make him stay on any longer.” Viola perked an eyebrow.

“How so?”

“Well, I’m certain you saw that after Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Maria had orchestrated that madcap display of Malvolio in the stocks, he could not bear his dignity from being diminished further,” Olivia explained, rolling her eyes. “In town, they called him ‘Lord of the Yellow Garter’ for three weeks.”

“Oh, that gaggling gallery,” Orsino chuckled from the other end of the table, sipping his brandy. “Good riddance, and good on the man to leave. What with Auguecheek’s romantic bumbling at you, Liv, and fat Toby and the wench conspiring into the knot, what a lame and foolhardy scheme indeed! Those fools, sad to suffer from a lack of wit.”

“Such people suffer from a lack of why, it seems,” Viola countered. “Those men only bare the shadow of foolery on their chins, those women only with the blush of vagary on their cheek, all bound to the folly of ego and its threadbare devotions. They know not what they do, only as they feel.”

“Well, that’s what I said!” Orsino protested. Viola waved him away, leaning back into her conversation with Olivia.

“So, who’s the man to replace him?” She asked. Olivia nervously crossed her hands, a little awkward, but set a look of determination in its stead.

“I’ve. . . allowed for Sebastian’s friend, Antonio, to fill the position in exchange for clemency. He’s agreed to a settlement for any charges laid against him garnished from his wages here. And, seeing as my husband’s life is indebted to his heroism, I could do no less than attend to his needs,” Olivia replied, motioning over to Sebastian. He smiled, but sipped his tea quietly, wary to join in on the conversation — he was still occupied with Olivia’s confrontation weighing on his mind.

“Do I rule pillars of sand? Am I not duke here?” Orsino scoffed, cutting Sebastian’s thoughts short. He turned to Olivia’s grin, as she wagged a teasing finger at the duke, regaining some confidence.

“Oh no, I’ve appealed to the King — this is beyond your jurisdiction, Sir Duke.” She teased. Orsino frowned, about to protest, but deflated as his argument sank back in his throat.

“Well, all I think it does is solidify a contract of bad incentives,” Orsino grumbled, sinking into his chair. “You won’t have any approbation on my part if you carry it through.”

“I don’t need your approbation, Duke, nor unsolicited candor,” Olivia rebuked. “I’m well within my means of managing this estate, and you are well within your means to stay out of it.” Orsino then knocked his glass down loudly, scrutinizing her with a sullen gaze. Sebastian and Viola exchanged looks, as the line crossed itself in front of them. How, as twins, they had married two people so alike in passion, they would never care to really know.

“Now I don’t see how you have a horse in that race, frankly,” Orsino spat. “You’re but a stranger to your master here,” he said, gesturing over at the quiet Sebastian. “A slave to disentombed pity at your dead brother’s expense, and your maid, your butler, your uncle, your fool, all those imprudent specters have vanished from your realm, oh glorious Olympia!” Ire began to build in Olivia’s blood, but before she could even begin to protest, Sebastian rose from the table and stabbed his finger at Orsino in return.

“Now, Duke! You are now my brother, and I won’t tolerate you to belittle my wife’s authority here! I do not place her hand under my foot, now get off of her and control yourself!” Sebastian ordered, reaching for his hilt. Orsino scoffed, but Viola shot him a firm look that silenced him for good. She rose from her seat, meeting her brother’s eyes, and then back to Orsino, now sheepishly slinking into his chair again. Viola let out a sigh, a flash of disappointment appearing on her face.

“Orsino, I think we had best depart; you’ve let your tongue fall out your mouth again,” She scolded. “Stop picking at your scrapes with Olivia. She is your sister now and has managed this estate for eight long years in highest condition and is inconsequential to the judgement of fools.”

“Such as yourself.” Sebastian finished, a smug little grin curling on his face as he locked eyes with Orsino. The Duke huffed, however, resigned to leave as he had no more to argue against. Later, as they began to go, Viola compelled Orsino to apologize, and assured her neighbors that she would deal with him when they arrived home, but before Viola trailed the Duke outside, Olivia signaled her over to quickly chat in private.

“Thank you, Viola. I knew I could trust in your support, but. . . I’m mercifully surprised in your brother’s. I hope things aren’t too badly burnt between them.”

“Oh no dear, Orsino’s behavior was uncalled for,” Viola nodded in agreement. “I’ve made effort curb his attitude for months now, however, he’s at an inflection point he doesn’t seem to want to cross yet. Pay it no mind though; you’re right within your own powers and he feels a tad threatened, but that shall grow to respect come soon, I assure you. Though, I admit his critique of your previous staff was apt,” She concluded, cocking her eyebrow. Olivia shrugged, letting a little laugh escape her lips.

“I’ll give him that, but through the course of this day I’ve had more and more doubt sewn into my skin about Sebastian than ever. I should know him too well, Viola, but I was in love with you, Cesario,” She grasped Viola’s hand, holding back pain in her throat. “You wrenched me from my grief and brought clarity to my eyes. You were my only conviction out of that wretched place. It could not absolve from my mind your imminence and grace, a kinder hand than I’ve ever felt, than I’ve ever needed.”

“Yes, and you broke free of your melancholy, righteously my dear. But like my Duke, you looked only through your own eyes, baring a love that did not break the surface,” Viola consoled, rubbing Olivia’s hand. “But I should hope you feel the same affection from Sebastian, as from our parents, our teacher was love — not of haughty passion or tactless praise, but instinctual, mature, and of respect. Not to think, but to be, to realize that love was something you and Orsino couldn’t understand. You stand a real chance now, and I think you’ve known; I’ve never seen Sebastian happier in all his life, and you want to join him.” Olivia contemplated her sincerity, her face bunching up in thought until she breathed out an answer.

“Are you certain?” Olivia asked. “Is it not a sister’s love to say so?” Viola smiled, giving her friend a pat on the shoulder, and let out a little chuckle.

“It is, but he is yours if you need him. He needs you, these things take patience, and I guarantee you’ll find no finer gentlemen along this coast such as Sebastian — Orsino gave you enough trouble as it is.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows. Olivia hesitated to answer, then let herself relax for a moment after she realized those implications.

“Oh, well then thank god you’re a woman!” Olivia giggled with Viola. She hugged Viola goodbye and let her descend to the carriage at the bottom of the hill, but before she got in, she turned to call Olivia one last time.

“Oh, do remind Sebastian to call on the Duke sometime! I’m sure they could mend things over with a game of tennis! That seems to put him in good spirits again!”

“Thank you, dear! I shall!” Olivia cried from the entrance.

“And don’t think you’re alone, my dear,” Viola called after her before the door closed. “I too, know what it is to smile at grief.”

The words stuck in her mind for the rest of the night, like a stone resting calmly on her temple. Finally, when she rose, Olivia set out to confront Sebastian once and for all on his reasoning, and to confront her own growing feelings as well — something deeper than what she had discovered a month prior to the passage of their marriage.

“Sebastian?” Olivia called from the living room, her throat shaky. “I need to speak with you, now.” After a few minutes, Sebastian came striding down the stairs from the study with a grin painted on his face, as earnest as the sun that pooled in through the windows. He stopped a moment to look at her as she turned to face him, caught in the radiance of the beams, only to spur a quizzical look on Olivia’s face. She shook her head and let out a long groan, the tamber of her heart caught in anguish and affection.

“I’ve got to figure you out” She said, studying him from afar. She paced the floor a moment, feeling the observation of Sebastian’s slight confusion and amusement on her back.

“I’m not a featherless biped, Olivia, if you’re question’s ‘man.’” He chimed in.

“Then what dreamlike rationale are you under, Sebastian?!” She cried, stomping her foot. She started towards him with her finger, until they were at arm’s length from each other.

“If I’m to make sense of where things stand, then I need to know the truth, all in all. I won’t play coy anymore, I’m being upfront. Tell me.” Olivia demanded. She planted her feet firmly in front of him, eyes set with fear, yet striking resolve. Sebastian swallowed the embarrassment in his throat, taking a step back, and watched her gaze carefully. He scratched the back of his neck, frowning as he formed his reason, and hoped it would be enough.

“Olivia, if it be thus to dream, I dare not wake.” He answered timidly under a current of earnestness. “I shall take fate’s hand wherever it leads me, for in my darkest hour upon that splintered, watery heap, the sound and fury strangulating my senses, such strange providence led me to your coast. Antonio, the bold saint, pulled me from the wreck and into this country, where then in my grief I am treated with the utmost kindness and care. To find rest, I have no power in questioning such charity. However, if your feelings have changed. . . I understand. Pray, I did know how unusual our meeting was, but, if you are keen, I am willing to meet you all over again.” He met her eyes with the same fear, the same resolve, and slowly began to melt off his sister’s face from his own. He was not Cesario, but he was Viola’s brother true to heart; that same sincere devotion, brutal honesty, and sensitive nature stood across from her, and Olivia felt then that she could grow to know that kind of love further than she had explored before. She smiled at the grief she had long held in her heart, and the ruinous thoughts of doubt were finally banished from her mind. She smiled. Was this not love indeed?

“Very well.” She resolved, holding out her hand.

Sebastian let out a happy sigh and then, in an easy motion, he pulled Olivia into a kiss, fading the grays at the corners of her mind. Sebastian then gently pulled away, letting his hand drift from her and fall at his side. Olivia let a grin pull at her lips, and moving towards the door she motioned for him to follow her to garden overlooking the sea. Sebastian exchanged a grin of his own, trailing after her.

“I’ll go with thee.” He said.