Summary: The long, sad history of Sir Erik, the Black Knight, is revealed in his own words...
Tapestry of Deceit
Erik's Tale (part I)
Erik didn't just kiss her without his mask…
The kiss soon grew into something far more intense, far more passionate. While he kissed her, Christine's fingers never stopped caressing the disfigured flesh of his face, and Erik reveled in her touch, his body stirring more and more with every stroke. His mouth made love to hers while his own hands began climbing beneath her skirts, running along the length of her thigh, before finding her center and allowing his fingers a more intimate exploration.
Christine gasped at the touch of Erik's fingers, her head falling back in sweet pleasure as Erik's mouth began kissing down her body, gently biting the flesh on her neck, her collarbone, and the rise of her breasts. His fingers did not cease their exploration, and Christine was trembling with building ecstasy.
"Do you…" she gasped as his other hand pulled the bodice of her dress down so that her breasts were exposed. "Do you…do you think…this is wise?" Even while she asked her questions, she was already undoing the ties at his breeches. "I mean…your shoulder…?"
Erik groaned and buried his head in the valley between her breasts. "Christine…" he growled, making her body shiver with pleasure. "The best thing for me right now…the best form of medicine…is allowing me to make love to the woman I love."
Christine blushed deeply, but smiled at his words, before moaning in pleasure as his lips found one of her nipples, and he began suckling hungrily. Her arms wrapped around his head and she held him to her body, relishing in the feel of his fully exposed face against her skin. The scars felt rough, but it fitted him, she thought. Sir Erik was a warrior; a man who wore his battle scars like badges of victory. She knew that the scars on his face were different from the other scars that covered his body, but she loved the feel of them, she loved running her fingers over them, as she was doing now along his back, and the contrast of his rough skin to her smoother skin…Christine couldn't explain it, but the feeling was thrilling and erotic, and she loved it.
Erik's mouth rose from her breasts to once more kiss her lips, his own hands moving down to help her with removing his breeches and freeing his aching hardness. The second his breeches had been pushed down, Erik wasted no time. His tongue plunged deeply into Christine's mouth while his cock plunged deeply into her body. Christine moaned and wrapped her legs around Erik's waist while his powerful arms lifted himself just slightly off her body, allowing his thrusts to move in deeper, giving them both more pleasure as they made love.
"God, Christine!" Erik growled, closing his eyes to the sweet pleasure, his body growing more and more tense with every stroke. "Christine…so good!"
"Erik!" Christine gasped, her hands gripping his forearms, her body rising off the bed to each thrust he gave her, her own passion, her own need building more and more. They both needed this release, and quickly! "Yes…Erik…Erik!"
With a roar, Erik's body surged deeply into hers and Christine threw her head back as the passion took hold of them both, leaving them panting and trembling in each other's arms. It had been fast and hard, not at all gentle. But it was what they both had needed, what they both had wanted in that moment.
Erik groaned and gently rolled himself off Christine's body, yet his arms never released her, and Christine snuggled her head in the crook of his arm, kissing his chest and purring softly in the aftermath of their lovemaking. "I love you," she whispered, snuggling closer to him, loving the warmth his body gave, and looking up at him with loving eyes, happy that she was facing the side of him where she could see his disfigured cheek. Was it possible to fall more deeply in love with someone, even after you had already declared your love?
Yes; for when Erik revealed to her his face…she fell more in love with him than she thought possible.
A contented smile fell across Sir Erik's face, and his arms tightened around his blushing bride. "And I love you…Lady von Desslar," he murmured, before turning just slightly so that they were facing each other. He leaned in and kissed her, and then moaned as Christine once again, began kissing his face, her lips lingering over the corner of his scarred lip, and even floating up to his disfigured nose. "Christine…" he whispered, loving the feel of her soft lips. "God in heaven!" he groaned, as he felt her tongue gently trace one of his scars, the feeling causing his spent body to grow hard once more.
Christine giggled and planted one final kiss upon his cheek, before burrowing her head against his shoulder and sighing happily. This was what she had always dreamed of, a home filled with love and belonging. She was truly blessed.
"I still can't believe it," Erik whispered in wonder. "How…how you…how you do not even flinch at the touch of my body…let alone at the sight of it."
Christine's fingers ran over his chest and played with the dark hairs there. "It wasn't so long ago that you told me I was beautiful," she whispered. "Ever since I was child, I believed myself to be nothing, but ugly and undesirable…and sometimes I can't believe that…that you do think I'm beautiful," she blushed. "But you make me feel beautiful, Erik."
"You are beautiful," Erik emphasized, his jaw tightening as he recalled Carlotta and her vile brother, standing in his home, attempting to intimidate his wife, and then learning about all the horrible things they had done to his sweet Christine when she was a helpless child. They would pay for their sins, he vowed.
"It's no different then," Christine went on, lifting herself just slightly, so she could look at him. "You find me beautiful…and I find you handsome. Your scars do not frighten me…they fascinate me. They are a part of you and I love you," her face grew sad then and Erik was quick to notice.
"What is it?"
Christine looked down first, before lifting her eyes to her husband's. "It's just…I…I know I don't know everything that happened to you…but…just how you were led to believe that…that you were monstrous and hideous…when you are nothing like that at all."
Erik felt his throat tighten at her words. Monstrous and hideous; those who had seen his face always thought he was hideous…but monstrous? He had earned that reputation even before he was forced to wear the mask. And…there were things about his past that one would certainly call "monstrous behavior".
"Erik?"
The Black Knight turned and looked down at his beautiful bride, who was gazing up at him with lovely blue eyes that were filled with such love, as well as concern. He had been so worried about revealing the truth to her, afraid that she would turn her back, that he would lose her love. And yet…she had proven to him what he thought would have been impossible. When he revealed to her his face, she didn't scream, she didn't run, and she didn't faint. She didn't even ask him to immediately put the mask back on! Nay…she actually reached out and touched his face, she kissed it, and then she told him she found him handsome! And she was telling the truth; it was there for all to see, like her love.
The ghosts of his past were relentless in their haunting, and he recalled how the mysterious woman on the road told him that only when he revealed everything to Christine…would they cease their torment.
Was it possible? He would never know unless he tried…
"Erik?" Christine's concern was growing. He kept looking at her, his golden eyes filled with an intense emotion that she could not understand.
"Christine," he finally answered. "I want you to know that…that I do trust you, more than anyone in this world, more than Bernard and my own men."
Christine was deeply moved by his declaration. "I treasure your trust just as I treasure your heart," she whispered, her hand moving until she found his and laced their fingers together. She knew that Sir Erik had tasted the bitterness of betrayal by many, and that trust did not come easily for him. For him to tell her that he trusted her above anyone else…words could not describe the honor he was bestowing upon her.
"I know," Erik murmured, gazing down at her with love and wonder. "And…I know that you have been patient with me, patient in your understanding, when I have done little to reassure you."
"Erik—"
"But," he interrupted, placing a gentle finger against her lips. "On my way back from my travels, I met a very wise woman, who kindly offered me supper before continuing on my journey. And…she said something to me that made me realize…by leaving you in shadow, by keeping my secrets hidden…I am not protecting you, I am actually throwing you into harms way."
Christine bit her lip as she listened to Erik's words. Indeed, one could say she was risking much when she had gone to see Elizabeth's parents. She only wanted to learn more about her husband, to help him with protecting their children, and it seemed that she was doomed to search for answers on her own.
Yet after everything that had happened tonight, Erik telling her that he loved her and trusting her with revealing his face…perhaps he was also ready to trust her with all his secrets?
"It's not an easy story," Erik sighed, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling of his chambers. "It's long and…filled with many things that I am not proud of…yet, it will explain much…and tell you how I came to be as I am."
"You are the man that I love," Christine emphasized, wanting to make that very clear. No matter what he told her, she would not stop loving him. "And I will stay with you for as long as it takes…and I will remain quiet and not interrupt, unless you wish for me to say something," Christine whispered, her hand squeezing his.
Erik lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her fingers, before resting her hand once more upon his heart. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Very well. I think I'll begin by telling you about…how I met Sir Raoul…"
I came to live with my father when I was four years old. I quickly learned that I was different from other children; the servants whispered about me, looked at me strangely, and now and then I would hear the word 'bastard' repeated, over and over. I soon came to realize that I was not my father's only child, that there had been others, and that my mother had not been the only woman he had known. I remember him taking me to a portrait hall in the castle, and showing me a painting of his wife, and then another of his two daughters, who had died years before I was born. He explained to me that he had never married my mother, that she was not his wife, and therefore people would look down upon me and treat me differently. Keep in mind that I was four when I learned all this, and it was very difficult for any child of that age to understand. But I did understand, or did not long after he told me. It now made sense why people looked at me strangely, why they whispered about me. In the eyes of the world around me…I was something bad.
Yet my father did all that he could, I never wanted for anything. The servants quickly came to accept me, or at least to tolerate me, knowing that they would have to face the wrath of my father if they didn't. My father was a very present part of my life. He was determined to make me his heir, even though by law it was illegal. He taught me to read, himself. He hired several outstanding tutors to see to my studies, and before I was seven, I could read, write, do various forms of mathematics, and speak several languages. He also saw to it that I learned about the stars and the heavens, about nature and farming, religion and theology, and when I was eight, he placed some of the castle's financial responsibilities upon me. He was determined to see that I had the best education that any legitimate son of a nobleman could have. And on top of my studies, he also taught me how to use a sword, shield, lance, to ride a horse, to joust, and even how to make strategic battle plans. I learned all these things before I was ten years old…and it was at that age, that I began my formal training.
My father petitioned to the King that I learn, formally, how to become a knight, that I be granted permission to begin school. At first, I did not think it was possible; I knew what I was, and I appreciated everything my father was teaching me, but I did not think it was possible that someone like me would be allowed to participate with other boys who were all of noble birth, legitimately. But I quickly learned another lesson; the lesson that wealth and titles could take you far…but not as far as one could go with special connections. And my father was the King's favorite knight…so much to my surprise, I was granted permission, and told to report to the school within the following week.
Truth be, I did not wish to go. I was afraid of how the other boys would respond, once they learned the truth about who…and what, I was. But my father took me aside and told me something that I consider to be the greatest lesson he could ever have taught me…
"Erik, the world is filled with many kinds of people, people who have many different thoughts and opinions. Some of those people will hate you and not even give you a reason as to why. They may hate you because they feel that you did not earn the right to be where they are. That is envy, pure and simple. They may hate you because you succeed where they did not. That is wounded pride, pure and simple. And they may hate you because of what you are, that they are supposed to hate those who are different from themselves. That is ignorant prejudice, pure and simple. No doubt you will go to that school and make enemies and meet some of these very people. But you cannot allow them to win, my son. YOU have a right to be there, even if they and many, many others say you do not. You are MY son, Erik, and I have always been proud to call you mine. Stand tall, hold your head high, and should they spit upon you, you punch back. If they growl against you, you roar back. Everything they do to you, you do back to them ten fold. Because you will have to show them that you belong there, for trust me, they will not listen to your words. It's sad when a man must use his fists and his strength to gain respect…but it is because of them that you must. And you have more than strength and skill on your side; you also have vast knowledge, great intelligence, and a better understanding of the value of what it means to be a knight. That is what I have been training you for, my son. For when you go to that school…you will have already succeeded, where they are just beginning. You will already be…a man."
My father was not wrong, I did indeed face those very hardships while at school. But as I look back, I am grateful for them. It was at school that I learned how to defend myself, to stand up for myself, and as my father told me, to hold my head high. By the time I was twelve, I could easily beat anyone in a fist fight. Yet that did not seem to stop the bullying...
"Hey!" a boy shouted, pointing an accusing finger in Erik's direction. "Bastard! Get away from my horse!"
Erik's jaw tightened at the boy's words, but he did not step away. He was going to give the boy the chance to back down, before he had to do anything.
"I said get away from my horse!" the boy shouted, this time stalking over to where Erik stood, fully prepared to push him away. "Are you deaf? I told you step back! I don't want your disgusting hands all over my horse—"
Whatever else the boy was about to say was robbed from him, when Erik grabbed hold of the boy by the collar of his tunic and actually hoisted him up off the ground.
"You don't deserve a fine animal like this," Erik growled. "I saw you beat it with a switch the other day simply because it wouldn't come when you whistled!"
A small crowd was gathering around the stable entrance, and the other boys started shouting, cheering, and jeering while Erik held the shocked boy high off the ground. "I…I…p-p-put me down!" the boy wailed, his feet dangling as if trying to walk on air. "HELP!" he screamed, tears rolling down his face while Erik continued to growl and shake him. "HELP ME, PLEASE!"
Erik wanted to pummel the boy for so many reasons. He was used to the name-calling and the bullying, but Erik could fend for himself, as all the other boys were quickly learning. It was seeing someone who had power, and who knew of the power that they wielded…use it to harm another creature, especially one that was physically weaker. Truly, that made his blood boil.
The horse that Erik had witnessed the boy beat, was very old, far too old to ride off into battle as it perhaps once had done. The poor creature had several severe cuts on its hide due to the boy's ruthless switch, and Erik had gone to the stables to help soothe the animal, and put some balm upon the animal's wounds, just like the stableman at Winterbourne did for his father's horses. The boy must have seen Erik, and chose to stir up some trouble.
Bad idea.
"Pleeeeeeeeeease…" the boy wailed, his voice nothing more than a pathetic sob. "P-p-put me down!"
"ERIK!"
Erik closed his eyes and summoned his patience as he heard the stern voice of one of his teachers.
"PUT HIM DOWN RIGHT NOW!"
The weeping coward he was holding disgusted Erik, anyway. Without another word, he dropped the crying boy, who immediately scrambled away from him, his hands covering his eyes as he wailed to the teacher's side.
"I am SICK of seeing you start fights!" the teacher growled, marching over to where Erik stood and shaking a finger into the boy's face. Erik wanted nothing more than to grab the old man's finger and break it…but he summoned his patience and held his rage in check. "Fifty lashes for your insolence!"
The other boys began whispering amongst themselves, but Erik simply stood right where he was, his head held high, his chin lifted, just as his father had taught him. He refused to show any fear.
"It's not his fault!"
Everyone, including Erik and the teacher, turned to find a young, blonde-haired boy emerge from the crowd, looking slightly unsure of himself. "He…he wasn't doing anything wrong…William started it," the boy explained, his voice growing softer and softer as everyone's eyes stared at him.
The teacher, however, was not convinced. "Really? If William started it, then why was he the one being held off the ground!?"
"It's true, Sir Richard!" came another voice. Erik recognized that voice, and smiled at the sight of Bernard, his…well, in truth, his only friend. None of the other boys would have anything to do with Erik, they all knew about his heritage. When they had to partner up for jousting and sword practice, Bernard was the only one who willingly would do so. Even though Erik always wore a daunting expression, he was glad to have at least one friend at school.
Sir Richard rolled his eyes at Bernard's words. "You think I'm going to believe a word that comes out of your mouth, Bernard? You're always defending him!"
"B-b-but it is true!" the blonde-haired boy piped up again, trying to find the courage to stand his ground and speak his mind.
Sir Richard lifted a gray eyebrow at the boy's words. "So you've grown a spine then, eh Raoul?"
The boy's face flushed a bright shade of red, but he took a deep breath and squared his small chest. "William beat his horse yesterday. Erik was just trying to help the animal…and William tried to pick a fight."
"It's true!" Bernard added. "He took a switch to the animal because it wouldn't come when he whistled!"
Sir Richard didn't like Erik; he didn't think it was right to have the illegitimate son of a nobleman at a school for young knights. However, one thing Sir Richard despised more was the mistreatment of horses, and the second he heard this news, his eyes widened and his head whipped in the direction of young William, who was still crying from earlier. "Is this true, boy!?" William wailed and turned on his heel and ran away, while Sir Richard let out a mighty curse and chased after the cowardly boy. The rest of the crowd burst out laughing and quickly dispersed, wanting to see Sir Richard throttle the blubbering boy.
Bernard grinned and rushed over to his friend's side. "Ha! William will get what's coming to him, Sir Richard will see to that!"
Erik nodded his head, although he was still fuming over the accusations placed upon him by his teacher, as well as William's cruelty to the horse. His golden eyes locked with those of the blonde-haired boy who had spoken up for him and defended him. He didn't know the boy very well; he was not one of the boys who tried to bully him. The blonde-haired boy was a little smaller than the other boys, but then all the boys were smaller than Erik, who towered over all of them, despite his young age. "Do you know him?" Erik asked Bernard, tilting his head in the direction of the blonde-haired boy, who had now rushed off to join the crowd.
Bernard followed Erik's eyes. "That's Raoul, son of the late Baron de Chagny. His father died just before he came to school. He has an older brother who is now the current baron, but rumor has it that Raoul's father squandered most the of money on gambling and his mistresses, so there's very little left. And he being a second son…well, being knighted is about the best thing that he can hope for."
Erik nodded his head. That was another reason he was glad Bernard was his friend, Bernard knew how to listen and gather information about everyone he met. Bernard was the son of a wealthy merchant, but by no means would he ever become anything like Lord Edwin, Erik's father. Bernard was training to become a knight, however he seemed to be grounded in realism more so than anyone else his age, and knew that the best he could perhaps expect was becoming a knight's square or steward. He always joked that when Erik was knighted, he would serve as Erik's steward. That is, of course, if Erik lasted through school.
"Is he bullied?" Erik asked. "He just seemed so…out of place? Yet I saw the courage in his eyes, as if he were taking a stand for the first time."
Bernard shrugged his shoulders. "I confess I haven't paid attention to how he is treated by the other boys. I think he finds comfort in going along with the crowd; I don't think he cares to stand out. Therefore, I think you're right; I think this was the first time he took a stand."
Erik nodded his head. "Well, he didn't have to do what he did…but I am grateful to him." Perhaps it was possible for him to find another friend in this hellish place?
It was soon learned that if anyone tried to challenge me, they would emerge from the challenge with more bruises than they possibly dreamed. Sometimes I was caught by my teachers, and given unfair punishments. Sir Richard was just one teacher who forever held a grudge against me, and who often times turned a blind eye to what the other boys had done. Only the truly stupid ones continued in their efforts to bully me, but it always ended the same; they would run away crying, their noses bleeding, their eyes swollen, and sometimes with teeth missing…and eventually, as the years went by, the bullying towards me ceased.
But that was when they chose to attack Raoul. He was smaller than most of them, despite his age, and news about his father's dwindling fortune spread like wildfire amongst the gossip hounds who spoke of such things in the presence of children, thinking we were not listening, when in truth we were. The teachers also didn't care for Raoul, because of his father's poor finances. Therefore, he became easy prey for the cruel and mean-spirited.
"Hey de Chagny!" shouted a boy from across the school's courtyard. "I challenge you in our sword tournament today!"
Raoul's face went pale at the boy's words. He was nearly fourteen, but one wouldn't think it by looking at him. He was small in stature and muscle, and he struggled with lifting a sword, let alone fighting with one.
The boy who challenged him began to laugh maliciously, and was soon joined by his friends. But before Raoul could even respond, another voice snarled above the laughter.
"He's fighting me."
Raoul gasped and looked over his shoulder at Erik, his face paling even more.
The boy who had challenged Raoul tried to stand his ground and look brave, when in truth he was no different than the other bullying cowards. "I challenged him first!"
"I challenged him this morning, at breakfast," Erik countered, his snarl growing more and more, his golden eyes glaring directly into the other boy's eyes, as if daring him to hold the stare.
"T-t-that's not true!" the boy argued, although his voice was growing weaker by the minute.
"You're calling me a liar?" Erik asked, taking a thunderous step toward the boys, who all took a quick step backward.
"No, of course not!" the boy gasped, looking to his friends for support, but they were all backing away, willing to leave their so-called "friend" at Erik's mercy.
Erik simply leaned in and let out a long, low growl, a sound that startled all of the boys, especially since Erik was the first amongst them all to have his voice change. The boy gasped and his face went bright red…as he looked down to realize…that the front of his breeches were now wet.
"GET OUT OF HERE!" Erik roared, and the boy didn't have to be told twice, he turned on his heel and ran in the direction his friends had gone, each wailing for one of the teacher's to come to their rescue. "Cowards," Erik muttered under his breath, before turning to face the small blonde-haired boy, who was standing completely still and staring at Erik with wide, confused eyes.
"I…I…" Raoul swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. "V-very well," he said, lifting his trembling chin. "I…I accept your c-c-challenge."
Erik did his best to hide his amusement. He was only trying to help Raoul, knowing that those boys simply wanted to bully him. But as he looked into the hazel eyes of the small boy, he saw a fire hidden in their depths, a yearning to be taken seriously. Not to be seen as the small boy from the destitute family…but as a would-be knight who could wield a sword like the greatest warrior. And even now, this boy who Erik easily towered over…stood his ground and accepted the challenge, even though Erik knew that Raoul's skills with a sword were deeply lacking.
"I'm Erik, the son of Lord Edwin von Desslar," Erik greeted, extending his hand in friendship.
Raoul's eyes went wide at the civil introduction. "I…I know who you are," he murmured, in a slightly confused tone.
Erik cocked a dark brow at the small boy. "Many people do, it seems. And do you also share their views and have a problem with a bastard in your school's midst?" He needed to know now, for certain, whether this boy was going to be his enemy…or could perhaps be his friend?
Raoul, however, quickly shook his head. "Nay! I did not mean—" he paused and took a deep breath. "My sister, God rest her soul, was…was born from a woman, who is not my mother," Raoul whispered, looking down at his feet. "She…she died just before I went to school. She caught the same fever my father had, the same fever that killed him," he explained. "Her mother died giving birth to her, and my father brought her to live with us, despite my mother's protests. She and I were very close in age, and she quickly became my best friend."
Erik was surprised by Raoul's openness. The boy had obviously chose to tell Erik this story because he wanted to show Erik that the fact that he was illegitimate, didn't matter to him.
"My mother died giving birth to me, too," Erik explained. "I never knew her. But my father tells me she was very beautiful."
An awkward silence seemed to pass between the two of them, and Raoul was the first to finally break it. "I'm Raoul, son of the late Baron Claude de Chagny."
Erik nodded his head. "I'm sorry to hear about your father…and your sister."
Raoul bowed his head slightly, a gesture of thanks for Erik's condolences. He then leaned in and whispered, "d-d-did you mean it? About challenging me for the sword fighting tournament?"
A large grin broke out on Erik's face. "I do now," he chuckled. "I've watched you in class; you have the footing right, you just need some work with the sword, itself."
Raoul blushed brightly. "I…I'm not very strong," he whispered, looking down at his feet.
"But you will be," Erik said with determination. "You and I will be partners from here on out. Not just in sword fighting, but also in jousting and other sports."
Raoul's eyes went wide. "B-b-but what about Bernard? He's your friend, and—"
"Bernard is my friend," Erik stated. "And because he is, he will understand."
Raoul still didn't look sure. "I…I appreciate what you're offering, but…I don't want to be pitied—"
"I'm not pitying you," Erik answered honestly. He hated it when people pitied him because of his heritage. "I mean what I say; I think you have great potential to be one of the best knights in this whole school. You just need some extra training, and a partner who cares more about seeing you succeed, than in making you look foolish."
Raoul narrowed his eyes, but Erik could see hope within their hazel depths. "And…you think you can help me? You think I truly can become great?"
"Absolutely," Erik grinned. "So what do you say? Partners?" He held his arm out, waiting for Raoul to make his decision.
Raoul looked down at Erik's extended arm, then back up into Erik's strange, golden eyes. "Partners," he confirmed, before grasping Erik's forearm and shaking it heartily.
And that was the beginning of our friendship. From that day forward, Raoul and I were partners in every task that we were assigned. It took some time, and much patience on my part, but eventually, Raoul was able to strengthen his upper body so that he could lift and swing the sword with ease, as if he had been born doing so. He also grew in strength in other areas as well, such as jousting, archery, and horse riding. And if any of the other boys tried to bully him, he was now able to hold his own in a fight. Indeed, Raoul and I became the best of friends, despite the hardships that surrounded us.
His older brother, the current Baron de Chagny did not care for the fact that his younger brother was associating himself with a bastard. Raoul's brother wrote many letters of complaint to the school, demanding that the teachers keep us separated, but often the school refused to listen, writing back and complaining that he, the baron, had several high debts to pay when it came to Raoul's schooling. One time, when we were both sixteen, Raoul's brother came to the school, fully prepared to remove Raoul himself, or at least to threaten him to stay away from me. But Raoul…he was not the boy that his brother knew. With Raoul's training, Raoul was also growing in strength, and he was no longer the small boy that everyone teased. When his brother confronted him, Raoul stood his ground and argued back, saying that he would choose his friends, that his brother was not the master of him, especially while he was at school, and then the argument became uglier, as Raoul's brother brought up Raoul's beloved half-sister, claiming that it was because of her that Raoul felt sympathy for all bastards.
Raoul's brother went flying backwards from the strength of Raoul's punch. I had been standing behind a corner, listening to the whole argument, and actually had to rush forward and hold Raoul back from beating his brother further.
The Baron de Chagny rose to his feet, spat blood upon the ground and snarled that as far as he was concerned, Raoul was dead to him. He would be sure that the limited funds he was sending the school would be stopped right away, which meant that Raoul would be forced to leave. Raoul was still trembling with rage long after his brother left, but he said he had no regrets, he truly felt he had proven his manhood that day.
I knew, however, that the school would force Raoul to leave; they had been looking for excuses to getting rid of both of us for years! And it was because of me that Raoul would be forced to leave. I couldn't allow that to happen, so I wrote to my father, begging him to pay for Raoul's schooling, even to the point where he could stop sending funds for me. The only reason I was in that school was because the King favored my father, and it was through the King's command that I be allowed to stay. But I was what I was…a bastard. And there was little hope for me in becoming a knight of the realm. No, it was better that my father put his money towards a man who could use it, who would truly benefit more from being a knight, than myself.
"Erik!"
The young man lifted his head at the sound of his name. Bernard burst into the stables, panting and gasping for breath. "I…I…I've b-b-been looking everywhere for you!" he gasped, his hands clasping his knees as he bent over to better catch his breath. "You're…you're father is here, w-w-waiting…in the great hall."
Erik's eyes went wide at Bernard's words. His father? He had written to his father nearly a fortnight ago, asking him to stop the funds for his training and education, and continue them for Raoul. Erik was expecting a reply…just not in the form of his father actually being there!
Erik closed his eyes momentarily and summoned all the patience he could muster. He knew his father would not be pleased by his request, however he could only imagine how angry his father must be to have traveled all those miles to his school.
"Bernard," Erik sighed, putting down the brush he had been using to groom his horse. "If I do not see you after this day…I want you to know that it has been an honor to have your friendship."
Bernard looked puzzled by his friend's words, but before he could ask what Erik meant, the tall, dark-haired boy exited the stables, going directly to the school's great hall.
Lord Edwin was pacing, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. He only lifted his head when he heard the door open, and his glowering face seemed to darken even more at the sight of his son. It always amazed Lord Edwin how quickly his son had grown; the last time they had seen each other was during the Christmas holidays, and he swore Erik had grown several more inches since. His son had always been a large boy, tall and broad-shouldered, but now, nearly at the age of seventeen, Erik towered well over all the other boys and half of the teachers. Indeed, Lord Edwin discovered he would have to look up to meet his son's eyes.
"Father," Erik greeted with a bow of his head.
"Son," Lord Edwin crisply replied, his pacing coming to a full stop. The old man squared his shoulders and bore his eyes directly into those of his son's. Erik also adopted the same pose, clasping his hands firmly behind his back, standing straight and tall, his head held high, and his eyes focusing directly on the space just above his father's head. He knew that in moments like this, it was best to not meet his father's eyes.
"Well, I received your letter," Lord Edwin grumbled. "And I won't deny…it came as a great shock to me."
Erik said nothing; he knew that when his father wanted a reply, he would say so.
"I don't think you realize," Lord Edwin continued, his voice growing lower with each word. "What…what I have done to secure you a place in this school!" Without warning, the old man stalked forward until he was mere inches away from his son's face, his finger pounding into Erik's chest. "Do you know how difficult it was, Erik, to see that you received this education? To see that you had the same opportunities as the sons of other nobles?"
Erik continued to keep his mouth closed, although his jaw was beginning to ache from clenching it so tightly.
"I am the King's favorite knight! I have served both he, and his father, quite loyally! And even with his majesty's favor, it was still difficult in securing you a place in this school!" Lord Edwin bellowed. "By God, Erik, I will not see you throw your opportunities away for some…some…some peasant boy!"
Erik could not remain silent any longer. "Raoul is not a peasant boy, he is the son of Baron de Chagny! And he deserves a place here just like—"
"I know all about Baron de Chagny," Lord Edwin grumbled, cutting Erik off completely. "I am no saint, to be sure, but I always put my children ahead of me! Baron de Chagny cared for no one but himself, and sadly, your friend must suffer because of his foolish mistakes—"
"And you think that's fair?"
Lord Edwin groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Life is not fair, son. In my eyes you are my heir, but in the eyes of the law—"
"Father, forgive me for what I am about to say, but you are a fool and no different from the rest of them."
Lord Edwin was stunned into silence by his son's words. He stared at Erik with a mixture of confusion, shock, and insult.
Erik saw his opportunity to speak and took it, knowing that it was indeed a rare moment, when his father was stunned speechless. "Father, from the day you brought me to Winterbourne, you have been preparing me for the life of a knight. And I am grateful for all the lessons you have taught me, and believe me when I also say that I am grateful for the sacrifices you have endured to see that I receive this formal education and training. But one lesson that I have learned, and that is a lesson that I have learned through simple observation, is that knights are called to protect, to defend, and to give up their lives if need be, for the sake of others." Erik lowered his eyes then, until they were locked with his father's. "Raoul is a good man. He has grown more than anyone at this school; when I first met him he was a small boy who could barely lift a sword…but if you look at him now, you would not believe that were possible. His skills have greatly improved; he can even best me on occasion. He studies hard, he trains hard, and he is perhaps one of the most passionate people I know when it comes to wanting to be a knight. It's not right that he should suffer in the wake of his father or his brother's foolishness. It's not right that someone who deserves to be here more than anyone else should be forced to leave. And if the only way to see that he can stay is for someone like myself to step down…then I will do so."
Lord Edwin's face paled at his son's words. Erik was telling him that he would allow Raoul to take his place! That he would give it to him! He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a loud, "NO! Erik you can't, I won't let you!"
Both Erik and Lord Edwin turned their heads to see a tall, semi-muscular boy, with long blonde hair, hurry into the room, his hazel eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't do this, Erik! I refuse to take your place!"
"Raoul, be silent!" Erik hissed. His father did not need to be convinced to not support his friend.
Lord Edwin's eyes narrowed. "So you're de Chagny's son?"
Raoul swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded his head, before bowing before Lord Edwin, then lifting his head and holding it high. "I am. I am Raoul de Chagny, son of Baron Claude—"
"Yes, yes, enough with the formalities," Lord Edwin groaned. He eyed Raoul, sizing him up, trying to see if the lad was worth all this trouble his son was causing him. "How do you fair with a sword?"
"I told you, Father, he is one of the best—"
"I wish to hear from the boy's lips, Erik," Lord Edwin growled, cutting his son off and giving him a look of warning. "Now lad, answer my question," he commanded, looking back at Raoul once more.
Raoul lifted his chin, adopting the same stance his friend had made. "I have been told I fair very well, my lord."
Lord Edwin cocked a silver brow at Raoul's answer. "Aye, but what do you say?"
Raoul looked directly into Lord Edwin's eyes. "I would say I fair very well, my lord."
Lord Edwin glanced at his son. "Erik says you can best him. Is that true?"
Raoul glanced at his friend. "I have bested him on a few occasions, my lord, although I can not deny that he truly is the best here."
Lord Edwin seemed pleased to hear this. "I started training Erik when he was four years old. It's good to hear that all those hours of training, long ago, weren't wasted." He approached Raoul until he was but a foot away from him, and looked directly into the boy's eyes. "So tell me, lad, why should I see to your financial support?"
Raoul's eyes went wide momentarily, and he glanced at Erik, who's gaze was unreadable, before finally answering. "My lord…I am completely taken surprise by all this. I did not know of Erik's request to you, and I will not deny that I am embarrassed by it," he truthfully answered, his face turning red. "However…I know that it was meant with good intentions…and if our situations were reversed, I do believe I would have made the same request. But to answer your question, my lord, the truth is…I don't deserve the support."
"Raoul—"
But Lord Edwin lifted a hand to silence his son. He wanted the boy to finish.
"I have grown in my training, I do study hard, but am I worthy to take another man's place, especially a man like your son who is the best here? Nay, I think not. Erik has had to fight more adversity than I because of his heritage. Erik has had to prove himself more than I because of it, as well. And he has. He has proven to both the other students, and all the teachers here, that he is a man worthy of the title of Sir. And while we both have trained hard and have worked hard to reach that position…he has worked far harder, in my opinion…and therefore deserves it more," he smiled at Erik then, before turning his eyes back to Lord Edwin. "Therefore, my lord, if one of us must step down for the other to succeed…then I will do that, gladly. And if Erik even attempts to step down so that I may receive the funds you are giving on his behalf…then I will see to it that all the money is returned to you, and still step down."
Lord Edwin assessed the boy and then glanced back at his son, who was staring wide-eyed at Raoul. No doubt Erik had not expected Raoul to say what he did. "So…unless the two of you can finish your formal schooling and training…neither one of you will do so, on your own?"
"Aye, my lord," Raoul answered first. Erik still looked surprised by everything his friend had said, and could only nod his head to his father's question.
Lord Edwin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Very well, then. The only answer here is to see that both of you can remain…and supply funds for you both."
Both Erik and Raoul's jaws fell open. Lord Edwin could not help but grin at their stunned expressions. "You are not at all like your father, Raoul…and trust me, I mean that as a compliment."
Raoul could only nod his head, still surprised by what Lord Edwin had just announced.
Erik grabbed hold of his father's arm and turned the old man to face him. "But…but Father, the expenses—"
"I will manage it, besides…the two of you have but one more year left, before you join the King's army. And I must say…both of you have reminded an old man what being a knight truly is all about," he smiled warmly at both boys, before patting Erik on the shoulder, and turning and leaving the two of them in the great hall.
But Erik still could not believe it. He chased after his father, out into the courtyard and watched as the old man slowly mounted his horse. "My bones do not seem to agree with the saddle," he groaned as he settled himself atop the animal.
Erik knew that his father's age was catching up with him, and that his health was starting to fail him. Perhaps he had only made things worse, but adding this stress upon him? "Father, I—"
"Erik, 'tis done, nothing more needs to be said," the old man smiled. "You have a good friend there. 'Tis rare for a man to find a friend who will not only stand by you, but also willingly step down for you. Such loyalty is rare, I think. And I pray that the two of you will never know the bitterness of betrayal."
Erik frowned at his father's words. He had heard his father's stories, about how some of the men he fought alongside, and who he, at the time, would have trusted his life upon…had, in the end, betrayed him in the name of pride, greed, and envy. It was hard for Erik to imagine Raoul doing such a thing to him, especially after the way Raoul had stood up for him just then.
"The next time the school has a holiday, I want you to come back to Winterbourne," his father commanded. "There is someone I wish for you to meet."
Erik saw the mischievous gleam in his father's eye and held back his groan of annoyance. "Another mistress already, Father?"
"She is unlike the others, my son," Lord Edwin grinned. "A beauty beyond comparison. I want you to meet her as soon as you can, especially before you go off to join the King's army."
Erik rolled his eyes. "Why does it matter that I meet her? She's your mistress."
"Her name is Beatrice," Lord Edwin said proudly. "And it would give me great pleasure to introduce her to my son, who I am very proud of."
I did not know at the time that my fate had been sealed in that moment. I did not realize that when my father had said that name, that I was doomed. I also did not fully understand my father's wise words, when it came to Raoul. I was young, and while I always thought myself a good observer, a good listener…I quickly learned that I was not always the best judge of character.
"Bernard!" Raoul shouted, as he finished putting the last of his supplies around his horse's saddle. "Where's Erik? Have you seen him?"
Bernard sighed and shook his head. "Nay, the last I saw him was but five days ago! Just before he left to see his father at Winterbourne."
Raoul's brow creased with worry as he looked out to the winding road ahead. "The King has summoned all new soldiers to meet at the village of Tulane by tomorrow evening. We're moving out within the hour!" Raoul knew that if Erik was not back before the army was called to move out, he would be immediately dismissed, which no doubt was something that all the teachers and over half of the students, were hoping. "What was so important that he had to travel all the way back to Winterbourne for?"
Bernard shrugged his shoulders. "All I know was that his father apparently wanted him to visit Winterbourne before he had to leave with the King's army. The plans had been set nearly a year ago, when Lord Edwin visited the school."
Raoul felt his stomach knot at Bernard's words. Was it possible that Lord Edwin was going to pull Erik out of school now, when they were so close to finishing? Oh God, what if Lord Edwin had summoned Erik because he would have to be pulled out!? It was foolish to believe that the nobleman could afford to pay for both their schooling—
"Raoul! I think I see him!" Bernard cried, pointing towards the road Raoul had been looking down just moments before. The young man narrowed his eyes and peered in the direction Bernard had pointed, and sure enough…moving like lightning down the road, was a large, black horse, and an equally large, dark rider, atop the mighty beast. It was Erik, and as soon as he reached the gates of the school's courtyard, he dismounted and practically ran up to Raoul, nearly knocking the young man down!
"Erik!?" Raoul gasped when suddenly he felt his friend's mighty arms wrap around his body and lift him off the ground, swinging him around in a circle, while laughing the whole time. "ERIK! STOP IT!" Raoul roared, finally getting over his initial shock and pushing himself away from his laughing friend. What on earth had come over him?
Bernard looked equally confused, and kept his distance so that Erik could not do the same to him. "Where have you been? You know that we are moving out within the hour, and…why are you laughing so?"
Erik couldn't stop laughing, he had been grinning the whole time he had been riding back to the school. "The most extraordinary thing has happened!" he gasped, catching his breath and grinning from ear to ear.
"What on earth are you talking about?" Raoul asked, wondering if this truly were his friend. He was not used to seeing Erik smile so, let alone laugh.
"The most beautiful woman in the world…she exists, and her name is Beatrice!"
Bernard and Raoul exchanged concerned glances. Bernard was the first to state the obvious. "You're in love?"
"YES!" Erik roared to the heavens, grinning broadly, and before Bernard could stop him, Erik picked Bernard up just as he had done with Raoul, and swung his protesting friend around in circles.
"Good to see that you have returned, von Desslar!" barked Sir Richard, glaring at the tall, dark-haired man. "Enough with your idiotic displays! Prepare your horse, we live in but a few minutes!"
Not even Sir Richard's prejudice could bring down Erik's spirits. He put Bernard down and immediately began preparing his mount for the long journey to Tulane, while his friends watched with mutual concern.
"How did you meet this…Beatrice?" Raoul asked, folding his arms across his chest while Erik secured his supplies to the horse's saddle.
"I met her at Winterbourne, where she is staying," Erik explained.
"She is staying at your father's house?!" Bernard asked. That could only mean one thing…
"Aye," Erik confirmed. "She is his mistress."
"SHE'S HIS WHAT!?" both Raoul and Bernard practically shouted. Erik seemed so lost in his blissful discovery, that he wasn't even aware of the problem.
"Erik…you just told us that the woman you are in love with…" Raoul repeated, "is in fact, Lord Edwin's mistress?"
"Aye, for now," Erik answered.
"For now?" Bernard murmured. "You mean…she will not be Lord Edwin's mistress for much longer?"
"Exactly!" Erik bellowed, which nearly caused his horse to panic. Erik put a soothing hand on the beast's neck, before turning and facing his friends. "When I met her, I at first thought she was my father's nurse. His health, as you know, has grown poor…" Erik's smile began to disappear as he recalled how his father struggled with getting around the castle, let alone mounting his own horse. "It was easy to assume; she was by his side the whole time, and she is much, much younger than my father. But then I quickly learned that she was the woman my father had told me about, his new mistress that he wanted me to meet."
Raoul could not help but find this entire conversation strange. "Then surely…once you learned the truth as to…as to who she was, surely you realized that…that you and she could never—"
"I did," Erik sighed. "Trust me, my spirits sunk faster than a rock in a pool of water. She is very beautiful, indeed. Long, red hair, that reminds me of the sunset…" Erik closed his eyes as he recalled her beautiful face. "Soft, alabaster skin…blue eyes that would rival the sea…and the way she moved, with such grace, and such…" Erik's face flushed as he recalled how he watched the sway of her hips, the movement of her legs, and the rise and fall of her breasts when she breathed. "She is exquisite. Venus, herself!"
"But Erik, what did you mean by the saying that she is your father's mistress…for now?"
Erik's smile grew more and more. "As I said, I was completely taken by her…but thought it was hopeless, that I was doomed to be entranced by her beauty while she remained with my father. However, but two days ago, while I was walking the halls of Winterbourne…she appeared from around a corner, and before I could even respond, she grabbed me by my shoulders, and threw me against a nearby wall!" Erik moaned as he remembered the sweet moment. "She took my face in her hands, and brought my head down to her lips, and kissed me in a way I never imagined!" It had been sudden and surprising, but Beatrice's kiss had left Erik numb. He had never been kissed until that moment, until her lips attacked his, and he moaned at the memory of her tongue invading his mouth. "It lasted but a few seconds…but for me, it was a sweet eternity."
Raoul said nothing; he knew that one of the mistress' of his father's endlessly flirted with his older brother. As far as he was concerned, this Beatrice didn't sound any different.
"The kiss told me everything I needed to know," Erik sighed. "She felt for me the same way I felt for her. And on the last night of my stay at Winterbourne, she cornered me once more, and before she kissed me again, she whispered against my lips how she was going to speak with my father, and tell him of her feelings for me…and that because he cared so much for her happiness, as well as for my own…that he would give us both his blessing!"
Raoul could not stand by and keep silent any longer. "Erik, how can you know that she was telling the truth? You have just met her!"
Erik frowned at his friend's words. "I tasted the truth in her kiss, I saw the truth in her eyes, and I felt the truth in my heart. After we finish our training in Tulane, I will ride back to Winterbourne to claim her."
Raoul wanted to say more, but Bernard put a hand on the blonde man's arm, a gesture that told him to hold his tongue. It was no use; Erik was not going to be persuaded otherwise, at least not at this moment. Raoul could not help but feel amazed by it all; Erik, who never seemed interested in anything other than fighting and studying to become a knight…was in love.
Raoul was considered by many to be very handsome, and Erik often joked that due to his "charming smile and good looks", women would be throwing themselves into danger, simply so that Raoul could come and save them. Raoul shared in Erik's laughter at the joke, but now, as Erik watched his friend continue to go on and on about Beatrice's beauty, he began to worry if Erik was perhaps…settling? Erik was not considered handsome. Rugged? Yes. Strong? Absolutely. Intimidating? The question shouldn't even be asked. But Erik also would joke that when he and Raoul ventured out into the world, he would purposefully frighten the maidens with his gruff and dark exterior, so that they would fly into Raoul's arms for safety. Did Erik think that he would not be able to find love? And at the first sign of a woman showing any interest in him…that he assumed it was love and affection that moved her?
Raoul had not met Beatrice, but he already distrusted her, greatly.
"MOUNT UP!" Sir Richard roared. "WE LEAVE FOR TULANE…NOW!"
"Erik," Raoul hissed as the two of them mounted their steeds. "I am happy for you, truly…I just…I want you to be careful, that is all."
"Careful?" Erik asked, looking confused and cocking a dark brow at his friend. "Whatever for?"
"Just…I don't want you to have your hopes crushed, in case your father refuses to release Beatrice from her position."
Instead of looking pensive, Erik actually threw his head back and laughed. "Ah, so that is your concern? Do not worry Raoul," Erik grinned. "My father will do what is right, he knows what's best and has always kept my interests at heart. He will do right by me, you'll see," he grinned. "And you'll understand too, one day!" he shouted as he dug his heels into the animal's flanks. "One day you'll find love as well! And you'll see how wonderful and consuming it can be!"
I would later regret those words. I would later regret many things I said that day…in some ways I still regret them. But I was young and foolish, and most of my life had been spent in school, I had little 'worldly' knowledge outside of what I read in books. Raoul had been the wise one, he had seen such things take place in his life; in fact, he was always offering warnings and saying sensible things when it came to women. I had always assumed it was because he enjoyed being a carefree bachelor…not because he was actually looking out for me. But he was right, and had been right about Beatrice, about not getting my hopes up. For after spending eight months in Tulane, finishing my training with the King's army, I quickly returned home, eager to learn where I could find Beatrice, thinking that she had gone back to her home, which I suspected was in Valmour. But imagine my shock…at finding her still at my father's castle…and still by my father's side. My father acted as if nothing had been spoken, and Beatrice refused to meet my eyes. The second I could get her alone, I asked her what had happened, why she was still there. Did my father refuse to release her? I was willing to go to my father and ask on her behalf, but she stopped me from doing so. She told me that she couldn't do it, that she couldn't ask, saying it was because my father had been very ill that winter, and it broke her heart to even think about breaking his. She asked for my understanding…and I gave it to her. But I would soon learn that this game was one Beatrice enjoyed playing. She was quite comfortable in her position; after all, my father was the one with the land, titles, and wealth…I was just his bastard son.
Several occasions arose during those passing months when I was at Winterbourne where Beatrice said she would try to speak with my father, but none of them came to pass. She continued to corner me and kiss me, leave me panting for more, and promising more with her smiles and her eyes. But she always stayed close to my father's side, caressed his face, and kissed his cheek, before turning and smiling at me, as if nothing had transpired between us but a few minutes ago. The joy I had once felt was no more, and my obsession for her was destroying me. I had to get away; I could not stand to be there and to watch her pretend to care for my father, when she had told me how she longed to feel my body cover hers. I still believed that she loved me…but I felt such horrible guilt in my lust for her, knowing that my father believed she deeply cared for him. So I left…I returned to the King's army and began taking on tasks that were being assigned to different men. Anything, really, that kept me away from Winterbourne. I loved Beatrice, I wanted her so badly…but I could not stand being there.
It was during those years that I was knighted. Both Raoul and I shared similar quests, and our leadership skills grew. Soon the King was entrusting us to lead his armies into battle. Because of our success and leadership, we were knighted…and all the hard work we had put in over the years finally came with its reward. And we could not have done it without each other…
Christine swallowed the lump in her throat and took a deep breath, her hands rising to brush away a few tears that had fallen during her husband's tale. She had always suspected the possibility that Sir Raoul was a friend of Sir Erik's…but she had not expected to hear how close the two of them had been, which only made the truth of the story that much sadder.
Two good friends, two friends who had stood by each other throughout all those years, who had defended one another at different occasions, and who seemed willing to sacrifice themselves for the success of the other…only to be torn apart by jealousy and greed.
"Erik…" Christine whispered, trying to control the emotion in her voice. She did not want her husband thinking that she pitied Sir Raoul. On the contrary, she pitied what had become of the man…and what had become of their friendship.
"I know," Erik whispered, squeezing his wife's hand, which was still entwined with his. "It's been years since I've even thought about it…and perhaps that was simply because I did not wish to look upon him and remember how once…he was a good friend."
Christine wiped her eyes once more, and turned her body so that her head could be pillowed upon Sir Erik's chest. She kissed the skin that covered his heart, and hugged him even closer. She knew he was by no means finished with telling her his tale, and she knew that it was no doubt only going to grow sadder. But she had promised to listen, for as long as it took, and she would be there for him, till the end.
"I soon grew a reputation for being successful when it came to surprise attacks, so the King would often give me secret missions, things that I could not share with anyone, even Raoul," Erik murmured. "I think…I think that was the beginning of our downfall."
"You don't have to continue, if you don't wish to," Christine whispered, her body pressing against his, seeking warmth from his broad frame.
Erik was grateful for Christine's words, but he knew that now that he had started…he needed to finish, and there was so much to tell. "Thank you…but too long have I kept you in shadow…as well as myself. Perhaps tonight, by telling you these stories, my ghosts can be exorcised."
Christine only hoped was right. "I love you, Erik. And I am listening."
Erik smiled softly at her sweet, assuring words. He was remembering people who had been dear to him, people he had once respected, loved, and who he had never dreamt would turn against him. It was enough to make a man believe that he could never trust anyone…
But with Christine, his sweet, loyal, strong Christine…he knew that her trust was not cheap, nor did it come with strings attached. Her loyalty was ironclad, and her love was pure. If going through all those years of torment and pain meant spending one day in her arms…he would do it all over, gladly.
"And I love you," he murmured, turning his head and kissing her brow tenderly, before taking a deep breath and continuing with his story. "I think it would be best…to tell you about Beatrice…and what became of her…"