Disclaimer: As much as I wish, I have absolutely no claim to owning POTO. No characters, music, places, etc...are mine, except those you don't recognize 'cause they came out of my mind. So don't sue me, I'm not making any money off this and I don't really have anything you would want, unless you count my piano...
"Nadya" is the French form of the name "Nadezhda", which means "hope" in Russian.
Erik jumped awake in his chair. He swiftly looked around the room to see what had startled him. Seeing sparks flying up in the fireplace, he relaxed. It had merely been the log crackling. That resolved, he looked at the bed. The woman was still asleep. He glanced at the clock on the mantle; it had been nearly 4 hours. She needed to wake up, or she might never do so. However, he knew that forcibly waking her would only terrify her. He walked across the room and sat in a chair next to the fire to decide what to do. He needn't have worried.
Across the room, Nadya was drifting slowly back to consciousness. The first thought that she had was "warm". 'Why am I warm? I was riding, in the woods...' she thought. Then what had followed her ride rushed into her mind. No, she should most definitely not be warm. With that thought, her eyes flew open, only to squint in the firelight. Letting her eyes adjust, she slowly took in her surroundings.
She was in a bedroom, apparently, since she seemed to be laying in a bed. The bed was soft, and there seemed to be light, warm blankets over her. There were dimmed gas lights scattered on the walls, turned down low. The windows were dark; 'it must be nighttime,' she thought. Her gaze travelled around the room, across the empty chair near the bed, then to the fireplace, and the chair next to the fire...she stiffened instantly. There was a large man sitting in that chair. Who was this? She vaguely began to remember another man in the woods besides, him. Was that who this was? She lay perfectly still, not knowing where she was or whom to trust.
Erik had heard her start to stir. 'Good,' he thought to himself, 'Now I won't have to wake this girl.' He had been more concerned than he liked to admit that she had been unconscious so long. That head wound could be dangerous, especially as there was little he could to treat it. All he could do was watch over her. And as he had watched, his ever working mind had grown ever more curious about this young woman.
Now she was looking at him, utterly terrified. As he stood and walked over towards the bed, she visibly began to shake, and tried to sit up, as if to leave. But he knew she was too weak, and he was hardly surprised when she collapsed back onto the bed. As he neared the bed, he could see how frightened she was. After the affair with Christine, he had no desire to frighten anyone. He stopped, stepped back a bit, pulled the chair next to the bed closer to him, and sat down.
She looked at the man sitting next to the bed. He was unbelievably tall, broad shouldered and forbidding-looking. He practically breathed power and...something she could not name. She risked a look at his face. Dark hair, green gold eyes, and a white mask. She looked away quickly, too scared to wonder about his mask. She held herself perfectly still and stiff, wary of what would happen next.
Erik himself was ill at ease. It was one thing to not want to frighten someone, it was completely another to actually do so. For so long, he had been in the habit of simply doing as he liked, regardless of how others might feel. If it took scaring someone out of their wits to get what he wanted, so be it. Only since his tactics had failed with Christine had he begun to think that maybe that was not the best course of action. It had only served to drive Christine away, terribly frightened of him. Now here was yet another young woman, also terrified. However, he knew that at least so far, he had had little to do with that. He certainly had no desire to add to her fears. He decided to simply go slowly, and begin with first things first.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked quietly.
Nadya started to nod, then stopped painfully. Apparently, answering him without speaking was not going to be possible. "A little, I think," she replied softly. She glanced up at him as he leaned forward to hear her.
Erik smiled slightly. She was doing well enough to talk. That was a good sign. As he was about to ask her name, he was surprised to hear her soft question. "Where am I?" she asked.
"You are in my home," Erik replied. "A few miles outside of Cœur Blessé." Before he could say anymore, she asked "H-how did I come to be here?"
Erik swallowed. How much did she remember? If she remembered nothing, should he tell her? And yet, she must have retained some memories of the evening, since she was so afraid. He opted for an easy beginning, "I found you in the woods some distance from this house." He paused, waiting for her reaction. He was not disappointed. Her eyes closed in remembered pain. He felt it was safe to assume she remembered why she was in the woods to begin with. Though, he suddenly realized, he didn't know why she had been out there. He shook his head. "You fell, hitting your head badly on a stone. You were unconcious, so I brought you here. My housekeeper..." here he paused, unsure how to tell her of Adèle's assistance. Her face became flushed, her eyes remained closed. He pressed on, just wanting to get this over with. "She helped you with your clothes, and put you to rest in here." He stopped, waiting to see if this would be enough for her.
Nadya swallowed painfully, and opened her eyes when Erik's voice stopped. She knew that more had happened then just hitting her head, but she was unsure of what he knew. "Thank you, monsieur," she said quietly. "I appreciate your kindness." She stopped, too tired and afraid to ask any more. She closed her eyes.
Erik could see she was tiring. However, his curiosity had to be satisified on one point. "Before you sleep, I have one question for you," he said to her. Stiffening, Nadya opened her eyes warily, afraid of what he was going to ask. "What is your name?" he asked.
She sighed. "Nadya," she said simply. She was reluctant to give her surname. He might return her to her home, the thought of which was unbearable. She closed her eyes again.
"Thank you," Erik said softly. "I will be back later. I may have to wake you. You must not sleep too long until your head has healed."He paused, then said firmly, "I will not harm you." He started to rise when her eyes opened again. She looked at him, rather wide-eyed, as if to see if she dared speak. As he sat back down, she said very quietly, "I might ask you that same question, monsieur." She looked at him, afraid he would take offense at her boldness. Erik only raised his eyebrows, though she could only see one. "Erik," he said simply. "Now sleep," he ordered, this time rising slowly from the chair so as not to frighten her. She merely blinked slowly at him, then shut her eyes. He stood, his arms on the back of his chair, waiting to be sure she was asleep. Once her breathing had evened and slowed, he walked to the door of the room, quietly shutting it behind him. He sighed. 'So much for quiet and solitude,' he thought. He walked across the hall, and began to unpack.
Authors note: Well, now I see why all those stories I've read always say..."Review, review, review!" I actually got 5 reviews today, and almost danced when I saw them in my Inbox. Such a great motivation to keep writing...I guess the moral is, "Want updates? Please review!" Thanks to all who read this!
