Chapter 2

Anya sat near the fire outside her wagon. Images of the day filtered through her mind. When she had come home from the woods earlier she had rested. But she hadn't slept much. She had thought about the beggar again. She wondered what had caused them to be in their current circumstances. 'Don't they have any family that could take them in?' It made her sad to think them alone. No one deserved to be alone, especially in the world they lived in. She counted herself lucky that she had a place to go and be accepted and loved. It was a blessing that she tried not to take for granted. Too many of her people had suffered by the hands of ignorant idealists who sought to destroy their way of life. So many of the families were taken from each other and put into slavery. The persecutions had only made her family stronger.

"Mother, are the fish done yet? I'm hungry." Her son came over from where he had been standing near the horses and sat down on the stool by side her. She ran her hand over his shoulder length hair and rubbed his back. "Soon, my son, soon." She answered. Her Grandfather took up a chair and threw a few more pieces of wood onto the flames. "Do we have enough wood to last the night?"

"I think so. With Nicolas' help we both were able to get plenty." He smiled at his Great-Grandson. "You know, he's getting better at finding edible nuts and berries. He even picked the mushrooms that were left out for your stew." Her son beamed with pride. "Mother we even saw a buck on our way back. His antlers were really big." He stretched out his little arms fully to show their size. "He was so huge and strong. Surely he must be the King of all the other deer in the forest!" He exclaimed with a raised voice. "I'm sure he is my love." Anya smiled.

She rose to check on the fish that were sizzling in a pan on the fire. Next to it sat a large soup pot that held various vegetables. She had made some flat bread earlier in the day to have with the dinner. Taking a knife she flipped over the fish. Going inside her home she began to gather wooden plates and utensils they used for their daily meals. Anya made sure to add another plate to take for the beggar. While getting them, she had started to make up a basket of supplies for them. But first her family must eat. Then she would return to the woods and see if the person had come back yet.

Coming back outside she plated some food first for her son than her Grandfather. When he noticed she had taken some food but had not begun to eat he questioned her. "You aren't eating?" Anya walked over to him and knelled down to speak quietly to him. "Grandfather, I will have food later. There is a beggar in the woods. I saw their campfire. They have very little. I hoped to bring some comfort to them. I will be bringing some clothes, blankets, and a few other items."

"A beggar?" He asked. "Why not bring them here? You know they would be welcome at our fire."

"Well, I haven't actually met the person yet. They might be shy. I will talk with them about it though. I'll try not to stay away too long."

"Anya, you have your mother's tender heart. Even though this person is a beggar, please be careful."

"Thank you. I will." She kissed his warm cheek.

"Nicolas, I'll be back in a little while. Please stay here and be good." She hugged him quickly.

Reaching inside the wagon she grabbed the basket she had made up. She also grabbed her husband's old coat and boots. 'This will keep the beggar warm.' Getting these items, she started down the path again. Whistling a tune she hurried back to where she had seen the campfire earlier in the day. The wind picked up as she entered deeper into the forest. She pulled her cloak closer about her body. It took her some time to remember where actually the camp had been. Upon smelling smoke again she knew she had found it. Creeping silently she moved closer to see if the beggar had returned. Within the shadow of the flame sat a man, his back faced towards her.

She studied him from her place by some small bushes. He looked to be a lot bigger than most men she'd seen. He had raven colored hair that fell past his broad shoulders. He was wearing a blue cloak that had been mended several times. She couldn't see his face yet, but imagined how he may have looked like. He appeared to be holding something in his hand. She wondered how he would react if she announced herself. She didn't want to startle him. She approached quietly until he felt her presence. He closed his book then spoke in a low voice.

"I can hear your step. What do you want?' His voice washed over her. She walked closer. "Please don't come closer. Why have you come here?" He asked again this time with a slight tremble to his speech.

'Was he afraid of her?' Anya thought. 'Perhaps he is shy around people.' She answered him. "I've brought you some food and other things. I'm sorry if I startled you. I didn't mean too. It's just that I came here earlier and noticed your camp. I wanted to bring these for you. Please, can I come over and give them to you?" She awaited his reply.

He sighed. The woman had returned and had brought gifts for him. Even now he could smell her sweet scent. It was intoxicating. He closed his eyes slowly to absorb it. She still stood outside the range of his fire waiting for him to say something. "Please, just leave the items where you are. I will get them later. Thank you for your kindness." He hoped she'd leave now. She didn't and it frustrated him. She stepped closer until she was right behind him. It unnerved him that she was this close to him. He felt her warmth and imagined things he knew he shouldn't. When she gently rested her hand on his shoulder he jumped up and took off for the cover of the woods.

Anya set the basket down and took after him. "Wait. Please. I'm sorry. Don't leave. I only wanted to help." She drew up to him as he continued to walk away from her. "I'm so sorry if I upset you. If you wish, I will leave you. " She started to turn around to go when he spoke again in a hurried voice. "No! Don't leave me. Please." He had stopped walking his back was still turned to her. She stood there watching him. "Why won't you show your face to me? Are you injured and don't want to show your scars to me? I've seen battle wounds before. I'm not squeamish." To prove this fact she walked in front of him.

He covered his face with his hands and turned his head. "No! Don't look at me! I'm hideous. You'll scream and run away." Anya first noticed the scars that ran around his wrists and the grayish tone of his skin. "You ARE injured!" She reached out to gently touch his hands. He flinched at her touch. "Please. Don't. I'm not fit for your beautiful eyes to see." His voice sounded sad and angry at the same time. This didn't detour her though. She reached out and grabbed both his hands and slowly moved them away from his face. When she saw his face she covered her mouth and gasped, but she didn't scream. Then she stared at the long suture that ran across his neck and upper chest to disappear below his shirt.

"Oh, Gods! What has happened to you? Who did this terrible thing to you?" Her eyes teared up at the torture this man must have gone through…is still probably going through. Silent tears started flowing down her cheeks as she tried to rationalize why someone would do this to another living being.

The man stood staring curiously at this woman who was crying for his pain. This was the first female who had ever shown any empathy for him. He couldn't believe she was still standing near him and not running away. 'Why isn't she running away?' He watched as she came close to him again to gaze up into his blue eyes as if searching for something. She then reached out again and very lightly placed her hand on his chest where the suture was. Her touch burned him. She felt like silk against his rough skin. 'How can she touch me and not get sick?' He continued to stand there doing nothing. She next did something that made him freeze. She laid her lips against his chest and kissed him by his scar. He couldn't move because of the sensations he began to feel. Then she laid her head against his chest also and held him close as if consoling a lover. He didn't know how to react to it all, so he remained still, but inside a fire the kind he's never experienced before started to grow and well up inside him. Her soft bosom was pressed against him and he could sense their fullness through his thin shirt. Her womanly curves fit perfectly with his body. He was in agony because he wanted to touch her. He groaned inward as he closed his eyes. 'How can someone so lovely hold me? Can't she feel my scars? Why isn't she disgusted?' He wanted badly to embrace her also. He wondered if he should dare to do so. 'What if she pushes me away?' His emotions were in turmoil over the decision. Then she pulled away and he felt empty.

Anya held the strange man close to her. When she noticed how he had stiffened she asked herself: 'Has he never been hugged before? Surely he must have had someone in his past that had loved him dearly…. His Mother? His Father? But where were they? Didn't they know their son needed them?' She stepped away from him and saw a flash of emotion appear in his striking eyes. He looked as if he was going to weep.

His eyes held such pain and anguish it upset her that he was hurting so much. 'Perhaps if he had a friend he wouldn't feel so sad. I could be that friend for him.' She tenderly took his hand. He gazed down at her quietly. "Come with me. I will feed you. I've brought some clothes and warm blankets for your comfort. Please let me care for you. I won't do anything else that you wouldn't want me to. I want to be your friend. I imagine you haven't had too many of them." She led him back to the camp. "Please sit and I will serve some food for you." The man sat on his blanket and watched her silently.

As Anya began getting his food together she kept talking. "I hope you like fish. The men from my caravan down river caught enough fish to last us a few days. There is some vegetables and fresh bread also." She rumbled around the basket and pulled out some utensils and a bottle of wine with two cups. She set the wine and cups near him. After preparing his plate, she leaned over and handed it to him. When she had done so their hands touched and she instantly felt a tremor of heat race up her arm. His hand was rough but warm. She looked down then up again to find him staring at her. There was a tense moment of silence before she started talking again.

"Here's some wine." She poured it and placed the cup near him. She did the same for herself. After taking a sip she said "I guess I should tell you my name if we are to be friends. It's Anya." He hadn't said anything yet. "Aren't you hungry? I can promise you that it will be good. I used my own special herbs for the fish. Please eat. " She motioned with her hands. He took a bit of fish in his mouth and was surprised how good it tasted. "It does taste good." He broke off a piece of bread and dipped it into the vegetable soup and ate it also. "So, I've told you my name. What's yours?" she asked.

"I don't have one." He said between bites. "No name? Everyone has a name." She thought this was curious. "Didn't your mother give you one when you were born?" He finished off the bread and looked at her and answered. "I never had a mother. Only my father, but he abandoned me when I was made." He remembered how his father had thrown books at him which made him fall against a chair nearby. His feet had not been able hold him upright yet. He was newly "born", but his creator had run away in terror after seeing him. He now understood why for he had found out by the journal that had been in the pocket of the coat he had grabbed to cloth himself with that fateful night. Inside was the name of Victor Frankenstein, his father. After learning to read and speak with the help of The Delacey family, he came to realize the cursed truth behind his being.

Anya questioned him. "You never knew your mother? How terribly sad!" He let her think that because to tell her the real reason he didn't have a mother would surely scare her. "What a cruel father! Did he not care for you at all? Who looked after you?" He finished the fish then replied. "I'd rather not discuss it right now please." He continued to eat.

"Ok." She didn't want to bring up painful memories for him. She turned back to the basket and pulled out the clothes she had brought with her and held them out to him. "I have these for you. They should fit you. They belonged to my husband. He was about your size. Here." Anya passed him some pants, a white linen shirt, woolen socks she had made, and the leather boots she had brought.

He took them and set them beside himself. Anya got up and walked over to him. "Well, aren't you going to put them on?" He just looked up at her. She stood with her hands on her hips. "You really should get out of those wet clothes. You'll catch your death if you remain in them." She took the plate of food out of his hand and gently pulled him up to stand before her. When she reached out to begin unbuttoning his shirt for him, he pushed her hands away. "No, don't." He backed away from her. He didn't want her to see his body.

"I've seen a man's body before. You don't have to be shy around me. I used to be married." He stood quietly not responding. Then he raised his eyes to meet hers. "My body's not something you'd want to view. You've only seen some of my scars. I have many more." Anya walked closer to him never leaving his gaze. She walked into the curve of his body. A piece of his hair covered one of his eyes. She reached out and moved it away from his face. "You know, I don't see anything before me that isn't beautiful. It's just a different kind of beauty." He was shocked that she would say this about him. She ran her fingers over his cheek then over his lips lightly. He sighed openly. She took notice and smiled wickedly at him a gleam of mischief in her eyes. She moved him back against a nearby tree and bringing his head down began kissing him forcefully on his lips.