Shade: Hello! I'm going on another week long vacation without internet access. Don't worry, I left no cliffies of doom for you. So anyway, just expect an update next Saturday or Sunday, ok? Ok, here you go!
"Demons have ravaged my being.
My wounds all have stories to tell.
While my body's safe in the darkness,
My mind burns . . . in . . . Hell!" -Nasrin
Chapter 27: Yearning for Sin
I watched Nasrin for days, tending to every unspoken whim her body conveyed. Her wounds were slowly clotting, and I saw her skin gradually take on its healthy hue of burnished gold. I knew she was painfully weak, for I saw her ribs move with each breath, and I could make out the workings of her muscles and tendons under her skin. I had forgotten that a life could be so fragile.
Though I knew she was weak, I became concerned with the idea that, perhaps, Nasrin did not want to awaken; that the blow done to her pride and dignity would be enough to make her crave death, even if I were able to comfort her. The thought seemed more and more plausible as time went on and even the last scabs fell from her wounds, leaving in their wake pale scars. It seemed as though she wanted to die; her will to survive appeared to be all but gone, and the thought frightened me.
It struck me instantaneously one day . . . She wanted to die because her body was not pure anymore. She had been sullied and the thought made her sick of life. Perhaps, if she believed herself to be pure again, she would wish to spend her days beside me.
I looked down at her placid body stretched gracefully over the swan bed. Despite the turmoil her body had endured, she was still unbearably beautiful. I ached to hold her in her time of pain as she had done for me, but I had a sinking feeling that any embrace we shared now would never be the same. Every time she held me she would think of Jean's actions, and every time I held her, I will remember how she looked when I returned to her. Pain would taint our love forevermore, even if she found it in her to love me completely. We cursed ones were never meant to ever be truly at peace.
I knew what it was I needed to do for her to ease her pain. . . but I refused to leave her side. Some one would have to come below and assist me, and I doubted that would ever come to pass. I walked over to what served as my kitchen, dipped a golden chalice into a bucket of water, and brought it back to Nasrin. I urged her head up to me and put the cup to her lips. Tipping the chalice slightly, I poured some of the water down her throat, rubbed her esophagus and forced her to swallow it. The process went smoothly, and I was thankful. I had been getting better at keeping her fed over the course of the days.
Sighing, I climbed into bed with her and ran my hand over her cheek, feeling a pained adoration in the softness of her flesh. I wanted her to feel my caress, wherever her mind lay, and know that I waited for her; that I would always wait for her. For a few hours I slipped into a restless slumber, consumed with my own dark assumptions concerning my Fire Rose.
I was rudely awakened by the sound of a boat being rowed laboriously through the passage to my lair. I sat up and groaned, my mind still buzzing from concern.
"Erik!" a loud voice boomed and I cringed. That annoying yawp was all too familiar.
"Daroga?" I called.
"Erik! You are alive?" He sounded relieved and I walked out of my room, slightly irritated. I resigned myself to silence as I slowly gathered my bearings and approached Nadir, who saw Nasrin in my bed and had immediately become pensive.
"Erik? Why is there a man in your bed?"
I growled. "That is a woman, daroga, dressed in my clothes."
"Have you bought yourself a whore?" was the next question.
My temper flared as my dignity took a blow. "Of course not! You know damn well I wouldn't sink to something like that!"
"Would you mind if I looked at her?" Nadir asked, insolently curious as to what I wanted secret.
"What are your intentions, daroga? Satisfying your insatiable nosiness?" I hissed.
He looked at me oddly. "Is she your lover of recent?"
I had almost had come to the boiling point as his inquiry showed no sign of a cessation. "We shall know when she awakens. For now, daroga, I require your assistance in a very pressing matter."
"Oh," Nadir mumbled. "What would that be?"
"Take this money, go to a carpenter, and buy two kilograms of the finest wood it will buy. Do it with haste." I dropped a sack of coins in his hand and his eyes widened in alarm as the full weight of the money pressed down.
"Why do you need this?"
Why was it in his nature to push me to the brink of violence? I grabbed a rope and narrowed my eyes, proving the severity of the situation. "Curiosity slays the Persian, daroga. You had better get moving."
Nadir nodded and shot a concerned look back at me before he rowed away, the coins tucked safely under his coat. Sighing, I convinced myself to play the organ softly, although its touch was foreign to my fingers. I knew not how long it had been since I last played; all I knew was that it was shorter than the gap between my last playing of intense fervency.
When Nadir returned, he dropped the blocks of wood on my desk. They were mahogany, beautiful slaps of wood, the grains etched in perfection. I ran my finger over its smooth surface, grinning solemnly with the promise it held.
"Is that wood fitting enough?" Nadir asked quietly.
I turned to him, the faint residue of a smile on my pain worn face. "Yes. This is fine indeed, daroga." I looked once more at the wood.
A realization struck me; this was Jean's fault. That bastard son of a whore had sullied her; he had been the origin of her pain, her scars, her tainted purity and memories. Hatred bloomed from within me and caused a tingling and numbing in my fingers. For some one who already lay without the gift of life, I wanted to rob him of everything he had left. I turned to Nadir and he became rigid at my change in persona.
"Nadir, there is an immediate affair I must attend to. You stay here; do not become dangerously curious. I will return. If there are any stirrings from she who lays in my bed, alert me upon my return."
Nadir seemed stunned and all he could force his body to do was move into a shaky nod. "Of course. How quick shall I expect your return?"
I smiled with a demon's glee. "Once true revenge is exacted. That is the only time I can give."
Quickly donning my cape and mask, I stormed to the boat and hastily rowed across the lake, not even noticing the passage of time. I unconsciously made the journey as my mind dwelled on darker and more sinister ways to dispose and mutilate the carcass of Jean de Lamarier, the Comte who sullied my bride.
Once in the Paris streets, I looked around, curious as to where the funeral of that despicable pig would be held. "Where is the nearest and most elaborate funeral parlor?" I hissed to a man passing by. He wielded on me and pointed me down the Rue de l'Opera.
"Down there, Monsieur. It's a large structure, called 'Le Rose Faneé' I believe," he scoffed.
"Good," I snarled, storming past him and pushing past anyone who dared intrude upon my way of passage. Many nobles dared to scoff and groan in distaste as I passed them, however for once I paid no heed to scorning remarks. Driven by the pure desire of a dangerous mix of justice and revenge, I threw open the door to the funeral parlor, startling many of the mourners inside.
Luckily, the funeral was not for the satanic Comte and I made a spectacle of pushing more people aside. Upon reaching the morgue, I searched for Jean's body among the countless other faceless dead. I found him in the center of the room, slightly decaying as he unknowingly awaited his final sleeping place.
I walked up to his body, smiling at the crooked bones in his neck. I had never been more proud of a murder. Removing the sheet draped over him, I drew a knife from my pocket and stabbed it into his flesh, dragging it down across his chest, opening a dark wound in his torso. Immediately, a strong and loathsome stench rose up from the carcass and I gagged. I hadn't known a corpse could retain such an awful smell. Closing my nose, I began to cut gruesome slashes across his face, slitting his eyelids and severing his ears.
Each stroke mimicked a surge of hatred that pulsated through me. Each gouge personified my rage. Uncountable wounds appeared on his flesh and I didn't remember making half the wounds on him. I was too absorbed with the idea of taking revenge which would satiate only my rage.
I looked down and for a brief moment, held a sense of restraint; However, I soon realized that what I held my knife over was the exact appendage which decimated my hopes at blissful tranquility. With one slash of the knife, that one spiteful organ was detached forever. Grinning, I severed his nose and tossed it aside.
Feeling as though my mutilation was complete, I stabbed the knife into him one last time before tossing the weapon aside and sneaking out the back. I grimaced as daylight met my blood soaked clothes. I immediately closed my cloak and hid the crimson stains on my clothing. I hastily sped through the streets, not knowing if anyone could smell the stench of a rotting body, which lingered about me like smog. I hastily ran back to the Opera, my revenge for blood finally fulfilled.
xXxXx
Nasrin's POV:
I drifted aimlessly through the corridors of my mind, my memories sharpening as I relived each one in an almost painfuly sluggish pace.
Why was I still alive? Why hadn't Allah taken me yet? I had nothing left to live for. Did he think I would find solace in the times I fought so hard to eradicate from my memory?
Reluctantly, I gazed at myself through an angel's eyes, watching as I grew from being a horribly gawkish girl lost in the shadows of my brothers, to being the beautiful dancer I had been up until . . . I dared not speak it. I watched my body change before my eyes, my ego swell with pride, and my passage through the knowledge of my people and religion.
Because of my inability to hold a suitor, I cursed Allah and rebelled against the normal strict Muslim customs. Most obviously my need to show my skin to other men.
Forgetting my train of thought, I stopped at one memory, watching it with eyes narrowed in scorn. The time was all too familiar to me and I hated remembering any man other than my Erik.
"You are not to dance anymore. You will be my bride, mine alone. No one should undress you with their eyes now that you are promised to me." Khortdad's deep voice pierced through my mind. If he spoke to me as I was now, intimidation would be evident. Whereas back then, I was too much consumed with my ego and pride that such a voice could not scathe me.
"Khortdad, I love to dance! It is how I feel alive! You will never take it away from me!" My voice, slightly younger, squeaked high in defiance and I knew what would result in my disobedience.
"I can and I will, filthy wench!" Khortdad struck the younger version of myself, laughing slightly as I fell on my side. I saw my face twist with pain before returning to normal.
"You will not!"
"Be quiet!" Khortdad grabbed a torch from the far side of the room and stalked over to my smaller self, his knuckles blanching in anger. I could see the fear overtake my face like a plague. The act that determined my destiny drew nearer.
"Khortdad, take that away from me!" I had cried, crawling back until I felt the cold sandstone wall against my back.
"If you won't stop dancing voluntarily, I'll make sure you look so that no one will want to watch you!" He grabbed my beautiful long hair and yanked it up to him. His mud-colored eyes were wild with malice as he lowered the torch to my hair. I let out a siren-like shriek as the hot embers ate through my locks, setting my tresses ablaze. I watched myself roll around on the floor, throwing sand on my hair, trying to snuff out the flames and prevent that which I knew now to be inevitable. Khortdad grabbed a blunt knife from the table and slashed at my head, cutting thin jagged gashes across my already destroyed scalp.
Add insult to injury; you just sealed your fate unknowingly Khortdad. Even to this day I do not regret my actions.
When the flames died, the younger me passed out, my skin charred and sizzling. The smell of burning flesh was everywhere and I coughed. The memory faded as I moved farther on in my life. I was thankful to leave such a place in time.
The next memory emerged; I was sixteen, and sewing a patch into a blanket, humming a tune to myself. My wig slipped slightly and I hastily reset it, looking around and making sure no one saw me.
"Nasrin, come to me. We are to be wed today," Khortdad spat, grabbing me harshly by my arm and yanking me to my feet. The quilt dropped to the ground and I squealed in fright before turning on him.
"If you want to marry me, you will be gentle with me," I warned.
"I won't tonight. You'll be mine, and you chastity beads will be mine." A sick grin grew on his face and I watched the rest of the memory with a twisted satisfaction, knowing what was to come.
"After what you did to me I will never be yours!" I spat, clenching my fists.
"Oh, but you will. And you will love spending every night underneath me."
My face twisted. "Never!" I grabbed the rope by my feet and tied it into the Punjab lasso Azara had taught me to make. My teacher had known without knowing that I would do this. I hastily wrapped the noose around his neck and kicked him down, my heel on his back. I yanked back on the rope and his neck snapped. Grabbing money and a cloak, I fled from the house, tears streaming down my young face. It was both gratifying and saddening at the same time. I knew that I would soon be taken to Erik . . . and a new life of pain would commence. And yet, it was also a time I treasured and wouldn't trade for any amount of wealth in the world.
Again, a change in memory: I was with Erik this time. I watched myself fall for him, helplessly devoting my life and body to him, knowing I would never truly be his. I watched myself yearn for him, knowing all too well that I could never take the place of Christine.
And then, Jean Lamarier emerged, his hateful face above mine, panting in terrible pleasure, his normally benign gaze sharp with fervent passion.
No . . . I don't want to see! Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP! Please!
I forced myself into awakening as the visions became too unbearable and screamed at the top of my lungs. My hoarse voice reverberated back to me and I heard a masculine cry follow shortly after. I panicked and threw the covers off of me, hiding behind the bed just as I heard some one enter the room.
"Hello?" came a voice as the footsteps drew closer. I shivered and began to cry, hoping I wasn't alone with him. I was frightened out of my mind and I felt my stomach churn.
"Where are you?" came the voice and I bowed my head, hiding it in my hands and succumbing to a fit of spasmodic shivering.
Please don't let him find me . . . don't let him hurt me . . . don't let him touch me . . .
A hand gripped fast to my wrist and I panicked. I screeched and stood up, facing the man before me, my vision blurred by tears.
"Oh by Allah! Nasrin!" the voice cried.
In fright, I lashed out, striking the figure and tearing myself from his grasp. I ran out of the room, not even processing where I was, and stumbled about frantically, searching for a door that did not exist. Colors blurred before me and I immediately vomited, not even knowing in which direction I faced. I was stumbling over things, pushing past others and I heard water splashing around. Where was I? Suddenly, I heard another male voice; this one far more terrifying than the first.
"Daroga, what's going on here?" The voice was loud and menacing and I felt my knees weaken.
I saw a rapier sheathed in a black case and I drew it out, pointing it menacingly at the blurry figures that approached me. They moved slowly and I whimpered, my face twitching in fear.
"You won't touch me! You scum won't hurt me again! Back away! I'll kill you both!"
"Nasrin, you cannot even hold the sword steady," said the figure closest to me. He reached out and pushed the blade of the sword aside. His hands were smeared with scarlet and my panic consumed me once again. I cried out and swung the sword, hoping to sever the head of my assailant. Instead, I opened a large gash across his collarbone.
He bellowed a curse, but retreated backwards, refusing to touch the wound. Obviously it was someone else's blood on his hands. The other figure approached and grabbed the sword, tore it from my grasp, and struck me coldly across the face. I stumbled, unable to steel myself for such a powerful blow. I crumpled to the ground, retaining consciousness for a brief moment before all went black once again . . .
xXxXx
Erik's POV:
The last thing I expected to find upon my return was what played before my eyes.
I expected to find Nasrin still sleeping soundly and Nadir sitting dutifully as an ignorant dog by my desk, still pondering what the wood would be made into. I instead returned to chaos.
Nasrin had stumbled from my bedroom, so frightened that I feared she would induce her own death from heart failure. I saw Nadir chase after her, just as panicked as she. When his eyes met mine, he was struck pallid and I felt as though he was scared to be caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing.
"Daroga, what is the meaning of this?" I roared, fearing what he had done to worsen Nasrin's condition. However, it seemed that my voice had further elevated the terror in her and as I leaped off the boat, she grabbed a sword and pointed it at us. She was shaking and sweat beaded on her head; but she was fiercely in a state.
I thought she could see me, know I meant no harm to her; and so I had no problems approaching her slowly. I gently pushed the blade aside and moved to embrace her. However I saw the blade shimmer as it moved through the candlelight and I leaped back, emerging with a scathing wound across my collarbone. I wanted to press my wound closed, but I remembered that Jean's blood was on my hands. Clotted as it was, I would not have it coursing in my veins.
The unthinkable followed the assault. Nadir stormed up beside me and struck her down, taking advantage of her weakness and overpowering her with a single blow to the cheek. She crumpled in a pitiful ball and fell still.
In a fit of unstoppable rage, I wielded on Nadir and dealt him a powerful blow across the face.
"How could you do that!" I roared; my face flushed in wrath.
"She tried to kill you!" he bellowed back. "She's unstable!"
"With good reason!" I retorted, my voice rising as I got angrier.
"And what reason is it to bare steel against a man?" he hissed.
"She . . ." I didn't have the heart to finish and I trailed off. I looked once more down at her and sighed, dipping my hands in the lake and cleansing them of the Comte's filthy blood. "Get out of here for now, daroga. I expect you back here tomorrow, same time. I need some items purchased and you will get them for me. But for now, leave, and be quick about it."
"How is Nasrin still alive? I thought she was dead." Nadir blinked slowly as he examined the broken state of Nasrin's curled up body.
"She was Daevas, haunting me while faking her own death. A brilliant idea to exact just revenge. However, neither of us expected this turn of events. Now leave, daroga, before I lose my patience."
Nadir left wordlessly, undoubtedly as confused as when he arrived earlier. I remained, gathering up the limp frame of Nasrin in my arms. Carrying her over to the bed, I laid her down again gently and only now realized that I had forgotten to dress my wound. I numbly cleaned it and walked over to the bed, stroking her cheek again. I was alarmed to find her flesh burning hot.
Realizing that Nadir would not return until tomorrow, I simply placed a cool, wet cloth on her forehead and snuggled up beside her. I knew now that I could not sleep, and so I found solace in keeping my finger on her pulse.
The days dragged on from there. Nadir successfully obtained some medicinal liquids that helped to quell Nasrin's raging fever. She would stir often, but she hadn't yet become as cognizant as she had been before . . . if one could even call her madness cognizant at all. I would watch her and tend to her every need whilst working on the wood Nadir had purchased for me.
Slowly, my craft began to take the form of several carved wooden beads, engraved with Middle Eastern symbols. Though the wood was finely cut, numerous stray splinters of wood had punctured my hands bloody. Not even my gloves helped prevent the splinters.
When I finished the string of beads, I approached her limp form and tied them around her waist. Smiling somberly, I looked at my handiwork. New chastity beads, for my Nasrin. As I sat down beside her, she began to stir, screwing her eyelids shut and moaning as tears slipped from between her thick lashes.
"NO!" Nasrin sat up and screamed hoarsely, her face bathed in a cold sweat. Her face was no more than a hair's breath from mine. She panted and clutched her chest, her eyes wide with fear and I immediately knew what had plagued her peaceful sleep. Her eyes met mine for the first time with the intense clarity I had known and loved for so long.
"Erik?" she asked in a hushed whisper.
"Nasrin," I answered dumbly, unable to speak anything other than her name.
She looked at me through wide, doe-like eyes. "Erik?" She hesitantly reached her hand out to me. I remained still, aching to feel her hand on my face. My eyes closed as she touched my cheek, her shaking fingers moving slowly over my skeletal face. Suddenly, the hand left and a hard blow to my cheek sent me reeling. My eyes shot open and I saw her glaring at me, shaking with a rage the likes of which I had never seen.
"Are we living?" she hissed.
"Yes of course, my dear," I answered reassuringly. Her expression became black with hate and she struck me again; I did nothing to protest.
"WHY DID YOU SAVE ME? WHY DIDN'T YOU LET ME DIE?" she roared. Somehow, I wasn't surprised by this reaction.
"I needed you here with me. If you died . . ." I stopped, seeing her expression become angrier, if that was even possible.
"You let me live for your own selfishness! I am worth nothing now, you hear? NOTHING! Forget it now! I won't take my own life. I command you to kill me!"
I raised one eyebrow. "Of course I won't do that."
Nasrin looked immediately defeated and mumbled in a traumatic whisper, "Then where is your bathing cloth?"
"Does that matter at the moment?" I asked, perturbed.
"Where is it?" she shrieked.
I immediately brought it to her side, unnerved at the madness in her movements. She threw the covers off of her and ran over to the lake, tearing off her clothing and diving into the water. She breached the surface and gasped as the icy water of the lake sent a shock to her sleepy system. Without hesitation, she began scrubbing herself furiously with the cloth, crying.
"Maybe, if I scrub myself hard enough, I can wash away the filth. I would be pure again. And then I could stand to live," she said, brutally rubbing the coarse cloth over her soft skin.
I saw the promise of blood with every movement and I leaped up and ran after her. "Nasrin! Stop it!"
"No!" she screeched, pushing me away and turning from me in shame. "No, don't look at me! I don't deserve it! Don't look at me!" She scrubbed herself harder.
I saw the cloth begin to turn crimson as her furious attempt at self-cleansing deteriorated into self-mutilation. "You're hurting yourself! Nasrin, you're bleeding! That's enough!" I moved to grab at her.
She turned around and glared at me, her eyes sunken in with emotional agony. In a moment, she struck me hard across the face, shaking with misplaced rage. My eyes widened in disbelief and I furrowed my eyebrows, attempting to judge her next move. She moved to strike me again, but I grabbed her wrist tightly, grimacing as she winced in pain.
"Now what are you going to do?" I asked, hoping to make her understand that her wrath was directed incorrectly.
She snarled and lashed out with her left hand, clouting the white mask from my face and sending it careening across the lair. It landed on the floor, shattering upon impact. As she moved to clobber me again, I grasped her left wrist, detaining it fiercely with agonizing determination.
"Stop," I implored in a low begging voice. Nasrin tore her hands from my grasp and beat furiously at my chest, screaming and wailing loudly as the reality of her torture became a palpable nightmare.
Mutely, I endured the blows, my hands falling at my side. I looked down at her with grief-stricken pity; my eyes watered. Her pain was a terrible thing to witness and I thought about all the tribulations we had endured as husband and wife.
All at once, a terrible revelation struck me. Nasrin was now without any guise or clothing on her; she was simply herself, and nothing was there to conceal anything anymore. She was stripped of all barriers, masks, and veils, left to stand defenseless in her own flesh. This tortured, battered girl who struck me, weeping in sorrow, was my wife. I had always used the term loosely to describe our bond; but now, it seemed, all the responsibilities that title entailed reminded me of just how casually I had used it.
As a wife, it was her duty to love me, help me, and support me no matter what the circumstances. Hadn't she done just that until I frightened her away?
And as a husband, it was my job to make her comfortable, to treasure her, and above all: to love her with all that I was and to protect her. I . . . who was meant to ease the pain of her already plagued life . . . had failed her terribly. And now she was here, wailing in torment and beating at me, doing anything to quell the anguish she was haunted by.
I had failed her . . .
After a few moments, her blows weakened and she panted, winded and defeated by her own anger. I wrapped my arms around her, clutching her to my chest. "Stop, please my Nasrin . . . stop," I whispered.
She continued to cry, and the skin that had been scraped raw bled all over my white shirt. "No, please let me go. Don't touch me; don't even look at me. I'm dirty, I need to clean myself."
"Look, Nasrin, look," I cooed, grabbing her hand and tracing it down to her waist. She gasped and tensed as she felt smooth wooden beads meet her touch.
"What is this?" she asked. "Was it all just a dream? A bad dream?"
I gently rested my head on her shoulder and sighed. "If only it was, my dear. These aren't the ones you wore when you came to me."
"Then, why are they on me? Whose are they? It doesn't make sense." She stumbled about and I knew she was feeling faint.
I lowered my voice to a whisper. "I made them for you, because in my eyes, you have never known the touch of a man."
"But didn't you say-"
"You know the touch of a beast, Nasrin. A man is quite different . . . he would treasure and savor every inch of you. You told me that your chastity beads would be removed when I slept with you. Since I have not, you will wear them . . ." I paused, hearing her sob against me. "Nasrin, I'm sorry."
Nasrin shook her head and pushed me away, covering her quivering body with her arms. "It doesn't matter . . . the fact remains . . . I have no choice but to pledge myself to him; and that isn't fair! It isn't fair because from the moment you kissed my head I knew . . . I just knew!"
"What did you know, Nasrin?"
Nasrin put her hands on either side of my face, only allowing a moment for her fingers to navigate across my skin. Is it possible for such an innocent caress to ignite a raging flame within you?
"That it was you . . . and that it would always be you no matter what. When you kissed my head, Erik, I knew that I was going to love you for the rest of my life. Wherever you would go in life, and whatever you would do . . . I would have followed you like a lost dog . . . because . . . because you were the first person to ever show me such compassion."
I felt my eyes water, not for her proclamation . . . but for the utter agony of knowing how she felt, and how helpless she was to fight it.
"But it isn't fair," she whimpered, clutching tightly to my white shirt and nuzzling her soaked head into the base of my neck; I shivered. "Now . . . the only thing . . . the only person I ever wanted must be cast aside. Since it was Jean who removed my chastity beads . . . I . . . It is my duty . . . to . . . stay with him." She slid from my body and fell on her knees, the water lapping up over her breasts.
My face darkened into a look twisted with loathing. "I murdered him with my own hands when I came for you. I couldn't allow him to continue living, doing what he had done."
"Erik . . . he wasn't gentle, the act wasn't like I imagined it would be. He didn't even remove his clothing. It was so . . . degrading. I can't . . . I don't want . . . to feel that way ever again," Nasrin admitted sadly, tears still blooming from her eyes.
"Nasrin, I have never been with a woman; I am not experienced in that way. But, perhaps . . . if you would allow me to later . . . I could take you slowly. I wouldn't hurt you . . . and I think . . . I could fulfill you," I hesitantly murmured, helping her to her feet. I looked down at her body, which shone with lake water. A stirring deep inside of me began to grow stronger and I suppressed the carnal need to take her as quickly as possible. "I know you don't feel this way because of what happened, but your body, no matter what he did to it, is still just as beautiful as when I saw you dancing in Christine's room all those months ago." The fact that I meant every word made it far more satisfying to say.
Nasrin looked up at me, and I knew she fought back a torrent of tears. "I can't Erik. I can never allow any man to touch me again. I want to . . . but I wouldn't be able to satisfy you . . . I would tense, memories would consume. I'm useless, my worth reduced to less than dry soil. I'm sorry Erik . . . it's all my fault this happened. If I hadn't so foolishly let him come close to me . . . I'd be here with you, loving you shamelessly. Not anymore; I destroyed a future for both of us."
Don't say that, my love . . .
I cupped my hands under her chin, caressing her soft jaw line that was slippery with tears. She looked up at me, her face contorted with shame. Tearing herself from my grasp, she turned away from me, hiding her face in her hands.
"Only if you allow yourself to believe that is our future truly lost." My voice was barely audible. I reached out hesitantly, fearing to startle her. My fingers barely grazed her shoulder and I felt the twisted mess of my heart wrench as she tensed, gasping in fright. I immediately withdrew.
Nasrin whipped around, grabbed my hand, and pressed it to her face, whimpering as I took it upon myself to gently fondle her cheek. Confusion soon faded; she was conditioning herself to my touch. I eagerly caressed her face, feeling as though I didn't want to frighten her away, but that she still needed to feel the passion in my touch.
"Let me get you my cloak; you're freezing." I left her shivering in the lake water and grabbed my long black cloak, flung in carelessness across the floor. I slung it over her shoulders and rubbed my hands over the coarse cloth. "Come now, get out of the water." I led her from the lake and handed her original outfit to her. She turned away from me and clothed herself. When she looked back at me, she found me grimacing slightly at my bloodied shirt.
"I'm sorry," she muttered. She strode over to me and helped me remove the blood-stained shirt. She walked behind me and began in vain to scrub it clean with a cloth and some soap. "It won't come out."
"It's all right," I replied monotonously. She turned around and faced me; the mirror reflected our positions. My back was still to her, and across my back I knew she saw jagged scars striped over my flesh, marring the otherwise unblemished, pale skin around it.
"They're from the gypsy fair," I muttered. "Scars never really heal, Nasrin. However those wounds do close, and eventually the pain quells." I faced her, the shadows playing dramatically across our sallow faces. "Will you allow me to help you close your wounds?"
Tears cascaded down Nasrin's already tear stained face. She bent down and picked up one of her original chastity beads, twirling it between her thumb and forefinger.
"You don't want a used creature like me," she said.
"How do you suddenly know what I want?" I challenged, my tone far from gentle. Menacingly, I roared, "I spent days on those chastity beads for you! My hands . . . Nasrin look at my God damn hands and tell me that you think you know what I want!" I held out my hands so Nasrin could see the blood seeping through the bandages.
The bead rolled from her fingers and bounced on the floor. She took a tentative step towards me and I prayed that she understood.
I walked over to her and circled behind her, placing one of my hands on her cheek, the other on the side of her neck. "Nasrin," I whispered in her ear. "Do I look like the type of man who would shun you because you were forced and beaten into submission by other men?"
"I don't know," she answered breathlessly, and I knew she was quickly fading into my arms. Just a little bit longer . . . Then you shall understand love.
My hands peeled away the cloak and left her skin to the soft caress of my hand. My fingers moved along her skin gently, and I felt her tense muscles relax under my touch.
"And how would you know this?" Nasrin asked in a daze.
I paused. "Do you think I have not dreamt of such things? It's true, no woman has ever in reality been able to withstand my touch-"
"No one . . . save for me," she murmured.
"But you will not now," I pointed out.
"That is because of what happened to me."
"Nevertheless. You are my wife, Nasrin; the daroga presented you to me. Though men have had their way with you, I want you to have your way."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"What is it you want at this moment? This exact point in time?"
She wept, and an internal conflict undoubtedly raged within her. Her hand clasped tightly to my hand, which lay chastely on her chest. "You."
Yes . . .
I caressed her cheek, urging her face closer to mine. "Then tell me you want me."
"I want you," she whispered in a choked sob.
"And what do you want of me?" I urged, my voice a low, feral snarl fabricated of constrained fervor.
"I want you to . . . to . . ."
"To what, Fire Rose?" My hands eagerly traced the slender curves of her neck and shoulders.
"To show me . . . what love means. But that can never-" She was silenced by my kiss. I pressed my lips against hers brusquely, my eyes rolled back and closing. I had never wanted a woman so badly.
"No, we shouldn't . . . we can't . . ." Nasrin murmured, pulling away. "I'm too weak. Look at me." She spread her arms. Her normal turquoise outfit that usually hugged her curves hung haphazardly over her malnourished limbs. Her straps fell around her arms and her breasts no longer filled the garment while her skirt was hanging dangerously low over her right hip, exposing the protruding pelvis bone and casting a shadow over the skin beside it.
"Even with the food you need more," I said. "That's quite all right. Come now, I have some rations over there."
Nasrin tried to walk, but staggered and her legs gave way beneath her. I caught her in my arms, fighting the almost unbearable urge to kiss her. I simply reduced my raging urges to gently placing my hand on her cheek. She nuzzled into me and I felt my heart pound.
"You're tired, you must rest for now. Come, I'll bring you to the bed. I will sleep on the floor." I pressed my hand against the small of her back and began to guide her towards the bed.
"Wait," Nasrin murmured, stepping in front of me and pressing her hands against my chest. What now? She looked up at me, flushing as she met my gaze of confusion.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Please . . . please don't leave me alone tonight," she pleaded, tears streaming from her eyes. She dug her nails into the muscle of my chest.
"You . . . you can't possibly want me to . . . you just said . . ." I breathed.
Nasrin shook her head. "No, I cannot, not this early. But I just need you beside me; I need to feel the heat of your body . . . I need to feel protected."
I cupped my hands under her chin and kissed her forehead. "Of course Nasrin. If that is what you wish." I watched her slide into the bed, kicking her feet under the covers and nuzzling into the pillow. Smiling, I slid in beside her and embraced her gently, feeling a swell rise in my heart as she pressed her head against my chest.
I lowered my head against hers and closed my eyes. I wasn't tired, but I wanted to rest with her snuggling against me, knowing it was me beside her. Suddenly, I heard her voice, tremulous and longing.
"Erik? I don't mean to ask so much of you, but will you do for me one more thing?"
"Certainly my dear. You have but to ask."
"Could you sing to me? Anything . . . I just need to hear your voice while I rest. It's . . . a way for me to distinguish between you and . . . him."
I nuzzled into her head, my lips brushing her scarred scalp. "Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses, helpless to resist the notes I write. For I compose the music of the night . . ."
Nasrin raised her hand, allowing her fingers to brush affectionately against my lips. The contact sent a tingling through my body and I pressed against her fingers, singing against her skin.
As I sang, she fell into a deep slumber. However, just before, she craned her neck and whispered in my ear, "Erik . . . I love you."
I looked down at her, wanting to express the same emotion. But she had already succumbed to sleep and her ears no longer heard what I had to say. Smiling, I nuzzled against her.
"You'll know it soon enough."
A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers!
Natsuki: XD! Yes! For once, not Raoul, LOL. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
GerrysISUChick04: Surely, another hug, coming right up! ERIK!
Erik: Oh all right! (hugs tightly)
Shade: YAY! OK, thanks for the review and here is your update!
DragonheartRAB: LOL, everyone said that. As you can read, Erik kinda does. O.o;; Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Dragon-mage16: Oh, I feel honored! Thank you! XD! Love your death ideas. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Bananas in Pajamas: I know. Very sad. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
littledarkone: She lives, don't worry! XD! Thanks for the review and here is your update!
naomipoe: One of the reasons for the M rating. Hardly the only reason though. OH thank you so much! Will have to check it out when I get back! (is excited and honored) Thanks for the review and here is your update!
xxXGoddessXofXdeadXloveXxx: Thanks for the doll! So yay! (gives tissues) Thanks for the review and here is your update!
LadyOfLegends: XD! So amusing, Sunbeam! And thank you for serenading me on such an occasion. LOL. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Jen Lennon: YAY! Erik had a spirit helper! And of course I'll let Nasrin live! Silly! Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Norma Jean the Dancing Machine: I know. (gives tissues) Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Ya-girl123: I already talked about your review in your e-mail. XD! But gotta reiterate how like me you think. And how awesomely odd that is, LOL. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
tink8812: It's fine. I know how stressful that stuff can be. Sorry if the 'r' scene disturbed you. But thank you for your compliment. (is flattered) And Nasrin and Erik will go on their trip after chapter 28 (wink) Thanks for the review and here is your update!
VictorianDream: You'll know when I end it, LOL. There'll be an author's note at the end. I think Erik beat you to the beating though, lol. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Ethalas Tuath'an: LOL, thanks! Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Assyn: (gives tissues) I know, I know. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
The Psychotic One: It's ok. XD! I agree! Thank you so much! (is flattered again) And you're welcome for Nasrin hitting the fop and the . . . Christine. (likes to keep her reviews PG) Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Videociraptor: XD! I know Vi, I know. And Nasrin appreciates your hug, especially now that she is awake. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Poppiesnroses: LOL, love your suffix changes. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
AngelOfTheNight: I know, she really can't. XD! The boat oar part was popular; I'm glad I had it in there, lol. The break cometh soon. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
harem98: Surely, take Erik for Saturday. It'd be his pleasure. (gives Erik wrapped in a potato sack) XD! Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Corpse x Bride: Just a question, does your name have anything to do with the new movie, Corpse Bride? It's really cool. XD! Jean had to die, though I'm sure he appreciates your need to kill him. (nods) Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Jessie: Um . . . the story isn't finished! Please don't leave! LOL! I wouldn't leave off a story like that! 'Tisn't in my nature! Thanks for the review and here is your update!