Body Science
By silverymare.
Disclaimer: The Secret Garden is in no way affiliated with me. It is the property of Frances Hodgson Burnett. I can only claim my plot.
Summary: Mary wasn't sure about it. But she didn't want to say anything in case it broke the Magic.
"The great scientific discoveries I am going to make," he went on, "will be about Magic. Magic is a great thing, and scarcely anyone knows anything about it except a few people in old books – and Mary a little, because she was born in India, where there are fakirs. I believe Dickon knows some Magic, but perhaps he doesn't know he knows it. He charms animals and people. I would never have let him come to see me if he had not been an animal-charmer – which is a boy-charmer, too, because a boy is an animal. I am sure there is Magic in everything, only we have not sense enough to get hold of it and make it do things for us – like electricity and horses and steam."
This sounded so imposing that Ben Weatherstaff became quite excited and really could not keep still.
"Aye, aye, sir," he said, and he began to stand up quite straight.
"When Mary found this garden it looked quite dead," the orator proceeded. "Then something began pushing things up out of the soil and making things out of nothing. One day things weren't there and another they were. I have never watched things before, and it made me feel very curious. Scientific people are always curious, and I am going to be scientific. I keep saying to myself:"What is it? What is it?" It's something. It can't be nothing! I don't know its name, so I call it Magic."
- The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett.
Spring was living in the Garden. Rose blooms were kissing the statues, cheek to cheek. Ivy vines were embracing the high, sun-kissed walls while the robin, cheeky as he was, flitted around, warbling his own self-important song. The warm wind blew the worn swing into motion – its sway brushed the small purple hyacinths growing underneath. Pinks and purple crocuses were half crushed around Mary's head as she lay contently on the ground. She appreciatively sniffed the unearthed soil underneath her fingertips. Her hair had been let out of its braid, and Colin was unconcernedly twisting some strands in his hands. The lofty sun was gleaming overhead at its zenith.
Mary slowly turned her head towards her cousin. Curiously, she studied his figure, innocently admiring the way he'd grown taller and filled out. He'd been studiously pilfering from the cooks this past month, due to the coming of spring fruits. Though still thinner than most boys she had seen in the village, Colin had gained muscle, giving him a lithe physique. Though Dickon could still beat him at boxing, the once invalid could now hold his own. Her cousin was no longer the sickly and pale boy she had first curiously met. Her eyes took in his oval face, still pale, and then looked at his eyes. They were freckled green and brown, darker when he was poring over a book, or when he was trying to plant a bulb.
He has such strange eyes. No one else has eyes like him.
Today they held a hint of concentration as Colin slowly twisted her hair into knots. Mary closed her eyes, feeling peaceful and languid, done with her curiosity. She sighed with bliss, unknowingly catching Colin's attention. She loved the feeling of her hair dancing, animated by the wind - freedom.
It felt good not having to worry about anything. When her uncle returned, she had harboured a seed of worry. That the Magic would disappear, blown away by the wind on the Moor. But it hadn't. Everything had grown - flowers, the Magic, and most of all, they had. Dickon, Mary and Colin. And the Garden was still hers. The way it had been, for a few years now.
Mary felt lulled into a soft daze, cradled by sunshine and the earth. When she opened her eyes, slowly, to savour the way light returned to her vision, she noticed her cousin's interest.
Colin was staring down at her, his watchful and curious eyes unblinking, and she couldn't help but return his look. She was solemnly enthralled, as though by meeting his eyes, she was captivated in unseen ropes. At times, Colin had that magnetising effect. He controlled a Magic, different from the Garden's, more like a rajah's, which she had never seen or felt before. There was stillness in the air – an expectant pause – and it felt as if the whole world had stopped and focused its gaze into the Garden to see what would happen. She swallowed, her throat bobbing.
But instead of embracing the magical atmosphere, Mary felt torn in two.
Something inside of her was rebelling against this wild Magic. The tempestuous voice that enjoyed her bickering fights with Colin, it refused to quell. The same feeling – the one she had harboured when Colin threw a tantrum – made her feel hot and a bit angry. Sparked alive, Mary could tell he wanted to reach out to her. The corners of her mouth deepened, until she was frowning.
Colin, having been just as stubborn as Mary at times and thereby used to her style of tantrums, could see the signs of discontent appear on her face. Quietly, as if in reverence for the Magic that was happening, he spoke. The robin, who had been calling to his mate, had hushed - stopping for a moment to listen.
"I think this is another sort of Magic, Mary."
His hand moved closer to her flushed face, and his whole body dipped forward. Parts of the sky were blocked, and shadow fell upon her dress, but she didn't notice. Was it really Magic? Mary wasn't sure. This was something different. Nothing like this had happened before. Her mind felt confused, as though the knots that Colin had been tying in her hair had been tied in her thoughts. Only one clear idea came out.
…I want to see what happens.
With that, Mary pushed away the rebelling feelings that were telling her to get up. Though the frown was still hiding in the corner of her mouth, she lay still. She wasn't going to move and leave, but she wasn't exactly agreeing. There was Magic like she'd never felt before, and she wanted to see what would be created.
Colin could see the change. All Mary felt was an intangible shiver that slid its way down her spine when he first touched her face. He was almost hesitant in his ministrations, as if afraid to trigger the disappearance of the Magic. But the unseen bond held.
A thumb, bold and callous, lightly touched the tip of her freckled nose. She stared at it, slightly cross-eyed for a second before blinking. Mary made no sound, except to twitch the tip. Colin wasn't smiling, but it wasn't a bad expression on his face. Just different. She arched her nose, pressing it into his thumb. Inquisitive fingers were now going over her the sun-kissed skin, carefully stroking the shape and the length.
She could feel his burning curiosity. It warmed her cheek, as he cupped it in his hand. As if savouring the texture of her skin, Colin's fingers started slowly tracing the blush of her pink cheek and the valleys of her eyes in fascination. She imagined he was drawing runes into her body. A spell for protection, a spell of life, a spell of seduc-
Lost in the sensation, Mary silently gasped. He had moved on. Colin had managed to get to her rib-cage and was already tracing foreign signs on her stomach as part of the ritual. Though she was wearing a dress, it was only a thin layer between his hand and her covered skin. The cloth had never felt so see-through before. Both hands now worshipfully caressed the underside of her breast, and Mary shivered. His fingertips were cold, but his palms were warm. Her chest trembled under his touch.
She opened her eyes to read his emotions, but it was impossible. With the sun's summit above his head, his hair was crowned like a young Apollo, a sun god with his own mantle of light. His eyes were shadowed. Struck with that thought, Mary was struck with a little awe. And a twinge of fear. This was a different Colin from the one she had known.
"Colin…"
He ignored her, sinking down so their faces were almost touching. She blinked, unused to be so close to someone, before letting her eyes fall shut. Almost transparent, her eyelids couldn't help but flutter nervously. His and her eyelashes brushed each other, like a butterflies meeting and departing on a flower, they were so light.
Up close his warm breath smelled of apricot, all sunshine and sweet fruit. She liked it, but lost the thought when his lips touched her lips. They were both clumsy and soft and slipped in a few places but she couldn't help but feel a tingly feeling where they both touched. His teeth grazed her lower lip, and she sucked in a shocked breath. Then things changed. Somehow, Colin's hands were now on her hips, in a way that nearly pushed up her dress. His fingers were digging into her hips almost painfully. As Mary moved, crushing flowers while trying to find a comfortable angle, her breasts bumped into his chest.
It was the creaky hinge of the secret door being opened that knocked both of them back. Darting apart at the slight sound, they broke contact. Still a hair-breadths length away from each other, Mary and Colin stared at each other for a wild second, their heartbeats in their ears. In a shock, Mary felt that the world that was no longer enthralled in Magic. Colin's Magic had seeped away, dripping from them into the open earth.
Mary, still panting slightly, could see the half-hidden desire in Colin's woody-brown eyes. She shivered, telling herself that she was feeling cold from the sudden coolness of the day, as the sun dipped in its western arch.
She looked away, distracting herself with the lilied pond, and the dragonflies zipping about. The sound of Dickon's approaching footsteps and the small bark of his fox companion made her flush in shame and anger.
So this is Magic.