Treasure of my
Heart
T'Len
2004
Series. Karl May
Rating: NC-17
Codes: W/OS
Feedback: tlen11@freenet.de
Beta reader: Thanks to Lady Charena for the beta. For all
remaining errors, blame me.
Summary: The silver-lake reveals some truth
Disclaimer: The characters in this story don’t belong to
me. I only borrowed them for some fun. No moneymaking, no violation of
copyrights are intended. The story is mine and it is just fanfiction. If you
are under age, please stay away. If you have a problem with this topic, then
look elsewhere for your entertainment. English is not my native language, so
please be patient with my mistakes.
1.
How peacefully the
silver-lake lays now in front of us. Hardly to believe that it had been such
short time ago the place of dramatic events. Now the incredible treasure was
forever buried in the unattainable depths of the water, therefore we were about
to save a much more real treasure. The engineer was already busy making
mining-planes with Old Firehand. And how it looked it would be a profitable
business.
For myself there was no need
to remain any time longer at this place and also Winnetou was ready to leave.
So we had decided start our journey at the dawn of the next day. Until then a
mild evening at the lake laid ahead of us.
I had used the time to hike
once more around the place of our last adventure and stood now reflecting over
it on a rock, looking down into the water. Despite this peaceful scenario,
the Westman (Keine Ahnung, vielleicht müsste man im engl. Trapper nehmen, obwohl ich finde, das trifft es nicht.
Denn das waren ja eigentlich die Fallensteller. Bloß Scout ist er ja auch nicht, Cowboy schon gar nicht. Hunter auch
nicht.) in me remained always alerted - so I heard the soft steps long before I
saw the approaching person.
Old Firehand stepped at my
side. "I hear, you will leave us tomorrow," he said and added - after
I had nodded - affirmatively: "Before you leave I want to thank again,
Sir, for..."
"There is no need,"
I shut him off, but he interrupted me immediately.
" I don’t refer to the
latest events. It’s because of Winnetou. I would like to thank you for all that
you give to him. That you can give him the only thing I couldn’t. I have never
known know a more noble soul than his and I’m happy, that he has found
you."
I have to admit, that I was
surprised about the hunter’s words, as they made little sense for me. I was of
course aware that Firehand had known Winnetou long before I had set my foot for
the first time into the West. They had once sought after the love of the same
woman - Ribanna, the Rose of the Assiniboins. The white hunter had been at
least been successful but Winnetou’s friendship did even then never fail. And
finally they had fought together a long time ago - and as later also with me -
against Ribanna’s murderer.
Yet I wasn’t entirely sure
about what Firehand was talking now. My relation to Winnetou was of course
something special. We are brothers in spirit and blood. Yet - why should
Firehand thank me for this? And why did he say, “I had been able to give
Winnetou something he couldn’t?” I’ve got a feeling that behind his words might
lay more then it was obvious. I sensed however also that I hardly could asked
him outright for the meaning.
So I answered somewhat
vaguely: "Winnetou is my blood brother, as you know. I would give my life
without hesitating into his hand and for him and I know that he would do the
same for me, but I don’t understand what you..."
With a silencing gesture the
hunter interrupted me. "You don't have to explain it, Sir. I fully
understand your discretion and I only wanted to let you know, which pressing
burden you have taken from my soul. And for that I will be eternally grateful
to you."
After saying this he turned
around and disappeared before I found time for an answer – or better a
question. Pondering about his strange words I stared for a long time onto the
lake.
///
The sun approached in the
meanwhile quickly the horizon as I pulled myself together again in order to see
after our horses. Because of the terrain I approached them from a side, where
rocks protected me from being seen. Because we felt absolutely save now, we
hadn’t any watchers by the animals, but I heard voices as I approached.
Unmistakably it was Winnetou
and Firehand talking - how I realised soon. I’ve just wanted to make myself
known to them as I heard how my name. It was more instinct, then logical
reaction that that bid me to stop.
"I’ve told Old
Shatterhand how happy and grateful I’m for your relationship. Winnetou – you
don’t know how my regrets over my repulsion plagued me all the years. To see my
brother now happy with Old Shatterhand eases my heart."
I was sure to hear an air of
fear in Winnetou’s otherwise so controlled voice when he asked: "You told
my brother Scharlih about us?"
"No, I didn’t mention
this, although I supposed he knew. I only said that I’m happy that he is at
your side and that he now gives you what you desire," Firehand assured.
Winnetou sighed in relief.
"Then not everything is lost yet."
"I don’t
understand..."
"My brother is wrong
about Old Shatterhand. Winnetou loves him more than his own life. He’s
Winnetou’s soul-brother, but..."
He stopped for a while then added so softly that I hardly could
understand him: "he don’t know nothing about Winnetou’s secret wishes and
desires."
Now it was obviously Firehand
who was confused. "You’re
not...?" he asked. "He don’t know...?"
"No. Winnetou believes
to know Scharlih well enough to know that he would at best react like Old
Firehand years ago. Winnetou couldn’t bear to lose Scharlih’s friendship and
confidence, when he is less understandable than Old Firehand. And he does not
know if he can endure the pain of another repulsion... so Winnetou’s mouth will
for ever remain silent."
"But how can Winnetou be
so certain that Old Shatterhand will not answer his feelings? Your friendships
is so intensive and extraordinary, perhaps..."
"Winnetou senses it and
he would ask his brother Old Firehand not to tell Scharlih anything."
I felt bad because I had
overheard this conversation which obviously wasn’t meant for my ears and yet I
was unable to go away or to make myself known to them so that they could stop
their conversation. So I just listened further.
"Of course I’ll be
confidential. Winnetou can relay on me, but I wish so much, my brother might
find happiness."
"Winnetou is satisfied
with what ever he has. Also if his body’s needs will be unfulfilled, his soul
finds satisfaction. This must be enough,", he answer, but I was sure to
hear pain in his voice.
As I heard him leave, I
quickly withdrew into) the shadows of the rocks. I was completely unable to see
and talk to him right now. My mind whirled. Did I understand the right meaning
of Winnetou’s words? Could he see possibly more in me than his blood-brother,
his soul-mate? Did he - as he spoke about the desires of his body - really
meant...? I couldn’t even think such a thing. We are both men! And I knew that
his people as well as mine wouldn’t be accept an intimate relationship
between members of the same sex.
But perhaps I had interpreted
all his words wrong. I could hope that much. But I needed to be certain. The
only one who could answer my questions now was Old Firehand. Determined not to
return to our camp before I had got an answer I stepped forward.
Firehand seemed to guess that
I had overheard the conversation because he asked immediately: "How long
have you already been here, Sir?"
"Long enough, I
fear," I answer.
"Then please forget,
what you have heard. For Winnetou’s sake, when he means something to you –
please forget."
„But I can’t. Please tell me
the way I have to understand his words and yours and what happened in the past
between the two of you?"
He was still for a long time
and stared over to the rocks behind me. When he finally spoke, his voice was
soft - yet urgent. " I know you’ve heard about me and Ribanna from Harry.
Yet it is the only truth the boy knows... I always tell it that way and so
Winnetou does) It’s true, Winnetou sought Ribanna’s love, but more to fulfil
his people’s expectations than his own desires. There was somebody else, he
would have preferred as his companion."
"You... mean – it was...
you?“ I asked as he stopped.
Firehand nodded. "I’m
certain that I’ve never done anything to encourage him. But feelings often go
their own strange ways. Winnetou felt he was in love with me and he found the
courage to admit these feelings to me. For that I admired him at that time and
I admire him still today. How would you or I have acted into his shoes? I’m
certain, I would rather had cut my tongue out then to speak about such
feelings. I tried to tell him, about my refusing him having nothing to do with
his person but rather with the fact that I simply was not attracted to men. He
understood and so we remained friends. Yet I fear, I have hurt his soul in way
never can be forgotten). He’ll never be
able again to entrust his feelings to somebody. Not you - or probably especially
not you."
"And now he loves me – I
understood," I said softly.
"And his feelings for
you are certainly far more intensive than they were for me in his younger
days." Firehand put a hand on my shoulder. "However - Winnetou never
will do the first step. He fears too much another no and possible repulsion.
Rather he’d be content with your friendship and his longing then risk anything
that precious than your friendship.“
"So what do you advise
me?" I asked softly.
"Don’t let him know what
you learned today about his feelings, except you are completely sure that you
can respond them. ut then it’s onto you to do the first step."
///
Hiding my newly acquired
knowledge and the serious thoughts it provoked in me was easier said than done.
As we left after a sleepless night - for my part - at the next morning Winnetou
eventually noticed that something was troubling me. Yet I calmed him by saying,
nothing earnest - only an approach of homesickness - was on my mind.
Winnetou loved me - and that
in any meaning of this simple word. I couldn’t stop thinking this. I always
considered myself a modern and enlightened person, whom his numerous contacts
with other races and cultures had let to overcome the boundaries of his
upbringing. I also could say that I surely would have accepted a same-sex-relationship
between others without regarding the general opinion.
But for myself? Was I able to
see more in Winnetou than a friend? We were blood brothers, yes! We had acted
more than once as if we were one and the same person. And it was true, what I
had said to Old Firehand, I would give my life for him. But also my body?
Was this of any concern?
Wasn’t that what connected us already called love? A love in its purest,
noblest form because it united two hearts and souls in harmony. Would it not be
the logical next step to give this relation a new, yet deeper – more physical -
dimension?
As much as I was pondering
about it, I wasn’t able to make any decision. There were moments I was ready to
give myself completely to Winnetou. And then the anxiety came back again. What
if I did not acted out of my own wishes but rather to do Winnetou a favour? He
would realise it and that would destroy our impartial intercourse (unbefangenen
Umgang miteinander im Original) and probably even our friendship. What if my
body wouldn’t cooperate with the heart in the a vital moment?
Too large a risk! No, as long
as I wasn’t absolutely certain about myself and my reactions I couldn’t act.
Finally I’ve realised that I wouldn’t come to any rational decision this day. The
impressions of the last evening still too fresh. Heart and intellect fought
each other. I needed some distance to make a decision.
Tomorrow, tomorrow was
another day. Or the day after tomorrow. I would make it then.
///
2.
Winnetou’s long hair stroked
tenderly over my chest when I pulled him firmer into my arms to kiss him. His
lips felt warm and soft onto mine, his manhood was pressed demandingly against
me equally hard penis.
Moaning I pressed my abdomen
to his, stretched one hand out to stroke through his wonderful hair, using the
other to pull him even closer to me and...
...grasped into the void.
A cold shower couldn’t have
woke me more soberly and more suddenly, than the end of my dream. Moaning I sat
upright and placed myself against the cold stone behind me, as if its cool
surface could give me any inner hold.
Slowly I shook the last daze
of the sleep off. It had been no good idea to come to Winnetou’s grave. I had
hoped, this place would help me finally come to terms with the past and bury
all the shadows which hunt me day for day.
Yet the opposite is obviously
the case. The memory of Winnetou is just superior. In many moments, I turn
around because I believe I have heard his voice behind me, believing I felt his
dark eyes into me.
I know that I play with fire.
The place wasn’t save at all and momentary I am in no condition to way I
exercise the necessary watchfulness, let alone to defend myself in an
emergency.
Awake I’m plagued with the
memories of my lost brother and in sleep I dream things, that become more and
more intensive. Wish dreams! Because I never found the courage to do the first
step. While I was certain in one moment to love Winnetou enough that I could
express this lover in any way, I feared I the consequences in the
next.
And so I delayed the decision
always for tomorrow - until it was too late, until there was no tomorrow any
more. Only now - as the noble chief of the Apache rests in his stony grave - I
find the courage to admit myself my true feelings. Only now I recognize that I
shared his desire, that his - our – love would have been the most precious
treasure that life would have been able to give us.
Yet it is lost now for ever.
Like the treasure of the silver-lake rests into the depths of the water, must I
have to bury my love for eternity deep into my heart.
-End-