After being swamped in the sticky heat of Bodo's Cafezelt, the cool night air came as a shock to Erzsébet's system. Goose pimples laced up her arm as she walked through the darkened festival grounds, and her teeth began to chatter. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, wishing she'd brought a coat.
Clothing-wise, Roderich was even worse off than her. His absurd pair of tiny breeches left most of his legs exposed; yet he showed no sign of feeling the cold. It was clear that he had not recovered from his earlier spell of agitation. Erzsébet knew that he was a slow walker, but now his strides were even broader and faster than hers, and he barely seemed aware of where he was going. He kept muttering to himself too, quietly but fiercely, lapsing further into an indistinguishably thick Austrian accent. Erzsébet stayed one step behind him at all times.
Mercifully, Roderich came to an eventual stop close to a huge tent with a lacquered pattern and a sign reading 'Braurosl' above the entrance. She was expecting him to pull her inside, but he bent double instead, putting his hands on his knees and panting hard.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I— huh huh— fine, need to—huh huh— catch breath a little…"
Tentatively, Erzsébet placed a hand against the back of his head. He jerked slightly at the touch but did not pull away. "You need to relax," she said. She wove her fingers through his hair, marvelling at how soft and silky it felt. "It's a gorgeous evening and there's nobody here you know apart from me. Loosen up a little."
"Easy for you— huh huh— to say. You are— huh— drunk, after all."
"Sipty!"
"That merely proves— huh— my point," Roderich said, and straightened up gingerly, "You know, I used to get like this all the time when I was younger. Ludwig used to let me— huh— sit upon his back until I had sufficiently recovered. Somebody else I knew even used to carry me."
A fleeting image of Roderich being swept off his feet and carried bridal-style burst into Erzsébet's mind. Only, in this image, it wasn't Ludwig's arms that wrapped around him… Once again, she found herself blushing. It was getting ridiculous how so many of her thoughts reached the same conclusion.
Erzsébet took a moment to admire the area around her. The field was bustling with people, but wasn't anywhere near as packed as earlier. The rides had mostly closed, their blazing neon lights put to rest. There was a strong, slightly cloying scent about— of beer, of trampled grass, and of happiness. As Erzsébet entertained herself trying to spot couples from the people walking past, something in the crowd caught her eye. A man with a sharp blond quiff who was wearing a scarf was pushing and shoving through the mob hurriedly. Beside him, a young woman in a headband and with a goods-basket tied around her shoulders struggled to keep up with his pace. Erzsébet only saw them for a split second before they disappeared into the shadows, but it was enough. Acting on instinct, she pulled out her camera and snapped a photograph in their direction.
"Hey, look at this," She shoved the camera at Roderich, "Is that Belle and Lars?"
Roderich peered at the screen as he wiped his glasses on a handkerchief. "Where?"
Erzsébet squinted at the picture, but it had come out so blurry that it was impossible to see anything. Besides, the idea was absurd. Belle and Lars were back at the Circus; why on Earth would they trek all the way to Oktoberfest? It was dark and crowded and she still felt woozy from the alcohol— she must simply be seeing things. "Oh, it doesn't matter."
Roderich replaced his glasses and slipped the handkerchief back into his pocket. He surveyed their surroundings with vague bafflement. "Erzsébet, I am starting to fear that I might have led us somewhat astray," he said.
"Why, where are we headed?"
"Wiesn Guglhupf. It is one of the smaller tents. Here…" He pulled out a map and jabbed his finger at one of the huts displayed.
Erzsébet blinked. Was it actually possible for anyone to be misled so far off-course? "Roderich, that is literally down the road from where we started!"
"Oh," Roderich adjusted his glasses and peered closer. "Are you absolutely sure?"
"Yes. Come on, I'll take us there this time."
The map led Erzsébet to the outskirts of the festival, where a cosy, circular-shaped little tent awaited them. It couldn't have been more than about five-foot tall, and not much wider, but she felt drawn to it instantly. A soft, homely pink glow surrounded the tent like a cloud of glitter, like something out of a fairytale. When they came closer, Erzsébet noticed that it was divided into two sections. The lower half of the tent was uncovered— revealing an elegant round bar in the centre and a couple of high tables dotted around the outside. The upper half was dedicated to a structure made out of white material and divided into segments with arching tent poles. Erzsébet laughed lightly as she realised. The Wiesn Guglhupf emulated the exact shape of a giant Bundt cake.
"Do you see now why it is known as the Guglhupf?" Roderich said.
"In Hungary, we call it a kuglóf," Erzsébet said. It had only been a couple of hours since the potato salad, but her mouth watered at the thought. "Are they serving any cake inside?"
Roderich arched an eyebrow. The gesture was playful, teasing, and it made Erzsébet's heart beat a little bit faster. "They may well be, who knows? In fact, why don't we do a little investigating of our own?" He hopped through an entrance framed with curtains and outstretched his hand towards her graciously. "Allow me."
Erzsébet struggled not to roll her eyes— it was only a few inches off the ground, for goodness sake— but Roderich looked so sincere and so refined that she couldn't help indulging him. Taking his delicate hand, she allowed herself to be helped up, "Why thank you, kind Sir!"
"My pleasure," he said, and bent to brush his lips against her fingers. As pathetic as it seemed, Erzsébet could have sworn that her insides were melting from the contact. She even felt slightly wobbly as she took a few steps, as if swayed by a gradual motion.
"Are we moving, or am I still tipsy?" she asked Roderich.
"I expect you are still tipsy, but you're correct in your observations. Watch closely." Roderich pointed to a nearby floodlight. Erzsébet kept her gaze fixed upon it, entranced as it steadily drifted away.
"That's the special thing about the Guglhupf, you see," Roderich continued, "Not only is it a tent, but a slowly moving carousel too. Spectacular, is it not?"
Spectacular it was indeed. This had to be one of the most charming cafés that Erzsébet had ever seen. Sparkling wine glasses hung in rows above the bar; a soft English ballad warbled over the tent; the sweet aroma of coffee and freshly baked sponge made everything seem divinely appealing. Best of all, it was almost deserted.
Roderich ordered them coffee and gulghupf at the bar, which arrived a minute or two later. The marbled slices of cake were served on intricate china plates and dusted with sugar. Both had coloured swirls woven into the golden sponge— violet on one slice, and a curiously pale green on the other.
"You know, I don't think I've ever seen a green cake before," Erzsébet said, giggling.
"It is probably pistachio. I adore pistachio. But firstly, shall we sample this intriguing mystery flavour?" Roderich picked up a tiny pastry fork and used it to break off a chunk of the purple guglhupf. He speared it on the prongs of the fork, and lifted it towards Erzsébet's face, waiting expectantly. Erzsébet's heart skipped a beat. Was he asking her to…?
"Please," Roderich said, inclining his head.
Slightly unsure of herself, Erzsébet leaned forwards and bit the pastry off the end of the fork. The warm sponge felt as light as a feather and melted beautifully upon her tongue, accompanied by a fruity tang.
"Well?" Roderich asked, twirling the fork.
"Plum. And it tastes glorious."
Roderich's eyes lit up, "Truly? How very tantalising."
Erzsébet retrieved the second pastry fork waiting on the side of the plate. There was nothing she wanted more than to have another few mouthfuls of the plum guglhupf, but she resisted the urge and cut off a piece of the green cake. Mimicking Roderich, she held the fork in front of his mouth, grinning slyly.
"Now let me return the favour," she said, "Go on, give it a try."
Roderich parted his thin lips to take the morsel into his mouth. Almost immediately, his face contorted in disgust. He put a hand over his mouth to conceal his choking.
"I thought you liked pistachio!" Erzsébet said, astonished.
"That is not pistachio," Roderich swallowed, looking like it was a considerable effort, and shuddered, "It's olive!"
"Oh!" Now that the mystery had been uncovered, Erzsébet was eager to try some, and braced herself before tasting a mouthful. "Actually, it's not so bad."
"Well you can have it all in that case," Roderich said, already working his way steadily through the plum cake, "But as far as I'm concerned, a savoury cake is an insult to baking and all those who practice it."
"Shhhh!" said Erzsébet, glancing pointedly at the bartender. Thankfully, he was serving someone else on the other side of the bar. "Surely you can't hate all savoury cakes. What about carrot cake?"
"I think you'll find that one is sweet."
"Tomato cake?"
Roderich looked outraged. "Who on Earth would dare to create such a thing?"
"Antonio made it for us one time. It was quite nice really," Erzsébet said, stealing another piece of the plum guglhupf before Roderich could devour it all, "What about cheese scones?"
Roderich considered this for a moment as he took a long gulp of coffee, "Alright, perhaps that one is not so bad. Although I do consider it something of a stretch to call those starchy English lumps 'cake'."
"You're just being stubborn because I found an exception to your rule," Erzsébet said.
"Why, how very rude of you to imply so!"
They finished the coffee and guglhupf together, Erzsébet taking it upon herself to polish off the green one. She reached for her wallet when the bill arrived, but to her surprise Roderich insisted on paying. Erzsébet couldn't understand it. The memory of Gilbert's words was still fresh in her mind: He's got a shit-ton of money but he'd never spend it, stingy little prick. And yet he was. Roderich Edelstein— the man who patched his own underwear and wore old lederhosen that was clearly too small— he was willingly spending his money on expensive coffee and cake. On her.
"Erzsébet, is there something wrong?" Roderich said at length, "You look distracted."
Erzsébet looked down, a traitorous blush tingling her cheeks. "I… nothing."
Roderich frowned. "Not to intrude, but I have it on good authority that when a woman says 'nothing', she means 'something'. Are you perhaps not enjoying yourself?"
"No, not at all," Erzsébet said firmly, "I'm enjoying myself very much. But… you brining me here, buying cake and feeding it to me… isn't it all a bit out of nowhere?"
Roderich looked at her for a long moment. He had a peculiar glint in his eyes that Erzsébet found difficult to read. "Erzsébet… this little excursion may seem spontaneous, but I assure you it is not. If you must know, I have been planning it for quite some time," he said.
"You've been planning to take me to the Guglhupf?" Erzsébet said. She felt back of her throat growing dry. Where was this heading?
"No. Not necessarily here, but…" Roderich sighed, looking like the admission was causing him pain. "Somewhere. Only you and me."
Erzsébet was stunned. She couldn't speak; couldn't breathe; couldn't do anything apart from gape in awe at this fascinating man saying these fascinating words. The evening was all too much for her, playing on her easy, intoxicated senses like she was fifteen again. A part of her knew that she was behaving like a shojo heroine. But at the same time, another part of her knew this felt right and exciting, and longed for it to progress.
She was saved from an awkward response by the advent of a new song flowing through the cafe. It began with a sweeping orchestral introduction, then the familiar, slow, and poignant English lyrics. Waking in the rubble, walking over glass…
In a frenzy of excitement, Erzsébet turned to Roderich. There was no way he could fail to recognise this tune, not after all the media attention it had received over the past few months. "Dance with me. Come on, you promised!"
Roderich was staring fixedly at the speaker in horror, caught like an animal in a hunt. "I…"
Neighbours say we're trouble, well that time has passed…
His expression softened and he gave an exasperated sigh. "Very well, I shall keep my word."
Eagerly, Erzsébet jumped up and pushed back her chair, Roderich doing the same beside her. There wasn't a lot of space around the bar. Erzsébet spotted a little section on the opposite side that was unoccupied and dragged Roderich over. He still seemed startled, not to mention bemused, but guided Erzsébet's left hand onto his shoulder and clasped the other in his own.
Erzsébet chuckled. "You're leading?"
"Are you doubting my manliness? If we're going to dance, we're going to do it properly."
His tone was so affronted that she had an urge to burst out laughing but managed to hold it in. The decorative lights overhead caught Roderich full on, dappling his hair a radiant pink. He looked magical, dazzling, and right now he was all hers.
Once they were in position, Roderich took off in time with the steady music. Erzsébet found herself able to follow his lead without much difficulty. His movements were gentle and easy to imitate, and they practically glided over the floor together. He held her loosely, carefully, keeping a friendly distance between his chest and hers the whole time.
You wouldn't know me at all today, from the fading light I fly…
The music sped up and intensified, building towards the chorus. Roderich mirrored the transition perfectly by spinning in strong, elegant circles that grew faster and faster. Erzsébet gasped at the intensity, clinging to his shoulder she struggled to mimic the pace.
Rise like a phoenix, out of the ashes seeking rather than vengeance…
"You've done this before, haven't you?" she said, as Roderich twirled her effortlessly under his arm.
Roderich's lips twitched in what might have been the beginnings of a smile. "I am Viennese, my father's family were once aristocrats and I attended music school. It is only natural that I should know how to ballroom dance," he said.
Erzsébet took advantage of his distraction to inch slightly closer into his body. "I suppose I should have expected that from somebody who wears a fluffy cloth."
"Excuse me? A fluffy what?"
"You know, that outdated thing you always have around your neck."
Roderich almost let go of her hand in shock. "How very dare…? This is a jabot! It is the timeless symbol of a distinguished nobleman and shall never go out of fashion!"
"That's funny considering that nobody else wears one."
"This is an outrage! An insult to all of my ancestors!"
He sounded so ridiculous and so melodramatic that, this time, Erzsébet couldn't hold in a burst of joyous laughter as they span around and around.
You know I will rise like a phoenix, but you're my flame…
Roderich dipped her gently when they reached the end of the chorus, mindful to keep a firm arm behind her back. The melody switched back to the leisurely-paced verse and Erzsébet let Roderich guide her through the movements once again. It was a beguiling, intoxicating atmosphere— everything and everyone else melting into oblivion as the music washed over them. Erzsébet's heart strained with impulse, urging her to do something risky, something unexpected. Staring Roderich deliberately in the eye, she decided to take a chance. "Want to know a secret about your fluffy cloth?"
"Oh yes?"
"It makes you look sexy."
Roderich froze on the spot. His grip on her hand tightened; his limbs stiffened against hers. Then, incredibly, his lips shifted upwards into a smile.
"Roderich!" Erzsébet said softly.
"What is it?"
"I've never seen you smile before."
To her disappointment, the smile vanished as soon as the words were out of her mouth. With a slight cough, he pulled her back into the rhythm and kept to it determinedly as the song progressed. But Erzsébet couldn't help but notice the blush tinging his cheeks, nor that he was holding her a lot closer and more intimately than before. She simply bit back a knowing smile, followed the beat, and kept herself firmly in Roderich's arms.
You were warned, once I'm transformed, once I'm reborn… I'll rise up to the sky, you threw me down but…
Erzsébet's pulse hammered as the instruments swelled and heightened towards one final climax. She felt another thrill of sudden wild desire, throwing her inhibitions to the wind. Barely able to keep the grin off her face, she gripped onto Roderich's body and counted down the seconds.
…I'm gonna fly!
Just as the music broke into the chorus, she shifted her body weight and slung Roderich low towards the ground, twisting him rapidly in her arms. Roderich let out a squawk of alarm but she pulled him up just in time. He really was so very light; it was incredible. The audacity of her action made her giddy, electrified, free, and she roared with laughter once again.
Rise like a phoenix, out of the ashes seeking rather than vengeance, retribution…
"Erzsébet, that was not funny!" Roderich said, clasping onto her for dear life. Although his glasses were eschew, his eyes were gleaming. "It was most improper, not to mention startling."
Erzsébet winked. "Don't lie. I know you enjoyed it."
"I thought I was going to fall!"
"Oh Roderich," Erzsébet said with a mockingly heartfelt sigh, "I may sweep you off your feet, but I'll always be there to catch you in time."
You know I will rise like a phoenix…
She let Roderich spin her once more under his arm. As the tune began to slow, she drew him recklessly, instinctively closer.
…but you're my flaaaaaaaame!
With one final blare of brass, the music came to an end. Erzsébet and Roderich were suspended in their final positions, breathless and struck with lingering exhilaration. Only now did Erzsébet realise how close they were— much too close. Close enough for her to feel the straps of his silly purple lederhosen against her chest. Close enough for her to have touched his charming little mole with her tongue. Erzsébet unclasped her hand from Roderich's and placed it on his other shoulder. Roderich looped his arms around her waist, sealing the proximity between them. With a jolt of pleasure, she noticed that he was smiling again; a shy, contented smile that was just for her. It was the most stirring, magnificent sight that she had ever seen. And Erzsébet could not control herself any longer. She simply rose to her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his.
It only lasted a moment—one moment of hasty, tangled electricity— before she was struck by the magnitude of what she had done. God, what had she been thinking?Erzsébetlowered herself shamefully and stuttered an excuse. "I—I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that, it was—"
But she had to stop there. Without an explanation, Roderich tilted his head down to her level and kissed the false words right out of her mouth.
It took Erzsébet a moment to process the information. This was a dream. It had to be a dream, or else some alcohol-induced vision because no amount of flirting or intimate dancing could change the fact that these were Roderich Edelstein's soft lips tenderly caressing hers and Roderich Edelstein's warm tongue silently requesting an opening. And she was kissing back without even being aware of it, hungrily and furiously devouring his lips for all that she was worth. It was not quite a perfect synergy at first. Erzsébet kissed as if eating her first meal in weeks; Roderich as if sampling a very fine, rare wine. Yet they managed to settle on a compromise— a highly satisfying combination of passion and moderate pace. The tips of their tongues were brushing and touching in such a pleasurable way, but it was the feeling of Roderich's lips that Erzsébet really craved. She found herself moaning appreciatively as she explored them; the thick texture, the taste of beer and heat with a slight hint of plum gulghupf, the hopelessly, hopelessly arousing way in which they moved against hers.
The kissing felt so good that Erzsébet never wanted it to end but, of course, Roderich had to pull away eventually. He rested his head on her shoulder, humming Liszt and swaying to the movement of the carousel. He began murmuring ardently into her hair— telling her what a beautiful, talented, extraordinary young woman she was, how he'd longed to do this from the very start but feared it would be uncivilised, how utterly infatuated he was by her. Erzsébet already felt giddy from the kiss— not to mention extremely turned on— and could not quite manage a reply. Instead, she closed her eyes, laced her fingers through his velvety hair, and made happy-noises whenever his hot breath carrying those unbelievable words tickled her skin. It was strange really, she had always known that she was attracted to Roderich but had never understood the sheer potency of her yearning until now. She wanted Roderich. She wanted him so badly. She wanted his delicate musician hands on her body, touching her in all the right places. She wanted to drink of those lips again and again until she had her fill. She wanted…
Erzsébet gasped, half-surprised, half-pleadingly, as Roderich abruptly broke away from her arms. Her body had been melded with his from the shoulders right down to the thighs. Now that he was gone, there was a feeling of absence crawling across her skin like a dwindling fire. She leant up and tried to kiss him again, but Roderich placed a delicate finger over her lips. His body was tense and alert.
"Quiet! Is that…? Erzsébet, can you hear screaming?"
Erzsébet listened. Now that it had been mentioned, she noticed that there was a clamour of shrieks nearby, although they were too distant for any words to be distinguishable. "It's just a few people on one of the fairground rides," she said, impatiently attempting to pull him back into the embrace. Roderich wrenched out of the grasp and shook his head.
"No, that's impossible. They have all closed by now, we saw them."
"Then some idiots who have had too much to drink are trying karaoke," she said, "Roderich, please…"
But Roderich was already rushing back to the circle bar to retrieve his hat. Erzsébet caught up with him as he clambered off the carousel. Her mind was a whirlwind of mixed emotions— confusion, frustration, desire, and now a worrying pang of foreboding too. "Where are you going?"
Roderich did not even look in her direction. He jammed the Tyrolean back on his head, completely failing to notice that it was at the wrong angle. "It is only a precaution, and I am probably incorrect but… I think someone ought to investigate. And I think you ought to come with me, Erzsébet."
Erzsébet gawped at him. This was all so absurd. She refused to believe that the screaming could amount to anything drastic; refused to believe that something horrific could have happened in such a public place; refused to believe that anything was worthy enough of dragging her away from this blissful moment. Yet Roderich seemed so intent on checking that she had no choice but to jump off the carousel and hurry off after him.
The unsettling commotion brought Erzsébet and Roderich back to Bodo's Cafezelt, one road away from the Gulghupf. The main tent was almost deserted when they entered. Multicoloured lights flashed uselessly over the floor, abandoned cocktails littered the tables, speakers blasted the triumphant sound of We are the Champions. They moved straight through to one of the dingy storage rooms behind the bar, where a large congregation of people was squashed together. Erzsébet quickly located a gap in the crowd and darted through, tugging Roderich after her.
Most of the room was filled with wooden beer barrels, although a few had been shoved to the side to create a space in the centre. Here, one solitary barrel stood, which everyone was giving as wide a berth as possible. It was not difficult to see why. The lid barrel was cracked— spilling liquid and froth down the sides— and a pair of Doc Martins protruded from the top. Erzsébet gave an involuntary shiver. The euphoric sensation that enraptured her barely two minutes ago had extinguished, only to be replaced with this sickening fear.
"Alright, move it people! Get yerselves outta the way," said a voice. Officer Mathias Kølher had appeared at the entrance, pushing through the crowd. His hair was dripping wet and his bare chest shone with sweat, but he seemed significantly more sober than when Erzsébet had last seen him. "Official police business coming through!"
Lukas Bondevik and Alfred followed a pace or two behind, Lukas flashing his Kriminalpolizei identification card as he went.
"Only one way to deal with this properly, I think," Mathias said, surveying the barrel. He went to roll up his sleeves before appearing to remember that he didn't have any. "Lu, help me out, will ya? Stand back everyone!"
There were several shouts of protest which the Officers ignored as they hoisted the barrel between them. With gasps of effort, they hauled it over. Beer gushed out in gallons and flooded the room, provoking yelps and screeches from onlookers. But Erzsébet barely noticed when a wave of liquid washed over her shoes. Her whole attention was captivated by the pair of shoes… and the prospect of what might be beneath them.
The world seemed to pause, decelerate, unwind as if on slow motion. First came the boots, then the human legs to which they attached, then a motionless, lifeless corpse flopped face-up onto the floor. A fine white froth foamed at the victim's mouth, and his features were swollen; nauseatingly bloated to the point where they were not immediately identifiable. It was only when the waterlogged toy bee tipped out afterwards that Erzsébet was able to recognise the body as Gilbert's.
Erzsébet blinked. Once, twice, three times. The world around her had sped up again, whirling into a blur of noise and confusion. Too fast, too fast now. Erzsébet was not a part of it. There was no way she could be a part of it because there was no way that this could be real. All of her senses had to be lying to her because this was Gilbert— the awesome, indestructible Gilbert Beilschmidt and he couldn't be… couldn't be…
Mathias and Lukas let go of the barrel. It toppled to the ground, bouncing once before falling on its side and rolling leisurely. Back and forth, back and forth…. Each time it swung to the left, Erzsébet noticed a splash of colour against the wood. Four letters were printed in blazing red paint. L-O-C-O.
Beside her, Roderich trembled and broke down into tears.
To be continued soon...
The dance: watch?v=ToqNa0rqUtY
The Wiesn Gugelhupf is also a real tent at Oktoberfest, and is based on the cake by the same name. More information about said cake can be found here: wiki/Gugelhupf
Once again, I have been blessed with some really gratifying reviews and comments which make it all worthwhile. You have my thanks, marvellous readers. :)