Raquel lay in bed, looking at the morning sunlight creeping across the room, and smiling. Things had changed so much, and she was so grateful. Life with Sergio still wasn't everything she'd imagined marriage would be, but she was enjoying their time together so much that it didn't bother her much anymore – she was happy. She sometimes found herself dreaming about him holding her, about waking up in his arms, but she told herself firmly that she shouldn't want too much, and that what they had was enough. She knew a lot of women who only ever complained about their husbands, and often quite rightly – she thought of Tatiana – so she felt that she was pretty lucky with Sergio.

The only thing that was spoiling her happiness were these constant headaches. The laudanum still helped, but she was starting to wonder if she should consult their doctor one of these days – the headaches had been coming and going continually for weeks now. She got out of bed to take her morning dose of laudanum, which she kept in her room. She wasn't sure why, except that Sergio had had such a strong reaction when the doctor had left the medicine for him, and she felt that he might not approve of her taking it – but she felt like she had no choice. As she poured some drops into a glass of water, her hand shook and more drops than usual fell into the glass. She hesitated, then shrugged – it couldn't hurt, and her headache was particularly bad this morning. She drank down the entire glass, then rang the bell for Annie.

As Annie helped her get dressed and did her hair, she slowly felt her headache fade away as the medicine took effect, but she did notice that the dose had been higher than usual – her mind became a little fuzzy, and she felt rather dreamy, but happily so. She went down the stairs in a bit of a daze and went into the dining room, where Sergio was already sitting at the breakfast table.

"Good morning", he said. "How did you sleep?"

She merely smiled at him. She liked him, he was so nice.

He frowned at her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing", she said.

"Are you feeling well? You look a little… strange."

She kept smiling. "I feel fine."

He gave her a closer look, then got up and kneeled next to her chair.

"Look at me, please."

She looked into his eyes. He was so handsome.

An expression of utter dismay appeared on his face.

"Your pupils are contracted! What opiate have you been taking?"

"What?"

"Have you taken anything containing opium?"

"Oh", she said vaguely. "Just some laudanum."

"Raquel, laudanum isn't good for you!"

"But ever since London I've had this constant headache, and the laudanum helps."

He got up and his eyes widened in alarm.

"You… you've been taking it since London?"

"Well… yes."

"How often are you taking it?"

She hesitated, the urgency in his voice piercing through the pleasant fog in her brain.

"About… about three or four times a day."

He looked at her with such an expression of horror that she suddenly felt a little scared.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Raquel, you've been having headaches because of the laudanum!"

She frowned.

"No, the laudanum makes the pain go away."

"But only for a while! You see, laudanum is a tincture of opium, and your body gets used to it. After a while, you're going to feel pain every time a dose stops working, so then you take another dose, and another, and another…"

Raquel nodded. Yes, that did sound familiar.

"But why is it a problem, as long as I just keep taking it?"

"Because it's poison!" he said heatedly, and she stared at him, taken aback.

"What do you mean?"

"Frequent and continued laudanum use will kill you! Either it will kill you slowly, by affecting your internal organs, or it will kill you fast, if you increase the dose too much at once."

His alarm was starting to seep through to her, dispelling her feeling of contentment.

"Then… then I should stop taking it, right?"

"Yes", he said firmly, "at once."

"And then the headaches will stop too?"

"Yes", he said hesitantly, "after… after a while."

His eyes took on an expression of sadness.

"Raquel", he said softly, "it's not going to be pleasant."

"What do you mean?"

"Your body has gotten used to the opium if you've been taking it for this long and this frequently. You'll go through a period of withdrawal."

"What does that mean?"

He hesitated, then said:

"You'll experience symptoms as if you had the flu, only… only worse. You'll feel pain, itching, nausea, shaking and agitation."

"How come you know so much about this?"

He continued as if he hadn't heard her:

"You'll also feel a desperate need for another dose."

"How… how long will the symptoms last?"

"About 48 hours, I think."

She frowned at him.

"Can't I… can't I just gradually decrease the dose until I don't need it anymore?"

He shook his head.

"That's not how it works with opiates, I'm afraid. The only way to get rid of this addiction, is to stop immediately."

He gave her a serious look.

"Raquel… I think we need to do it today."

"Today?!"

"Yes. The longer we wait, the worse it will get. The sooner we get this over with, the better. There's no sense in postponing it."

She swallowed hard, and he kneeled before her again.

"I'll be with you. You won't have to do this alone."

She nodded her gratitude.

"So… so what do we do?"

"First, you need to hand me any laudanum you still have."

She got up and went to her room, then took the nearly empty bottle down and handed it to him. He looked at it with a bitter expression, then turned and smashed it into the burning fireplace with surprising vehemence, so it shattered against the stones of the hearth.

He turned back to her, and took a deep breath to restore his calm.

"It's going to take a while for your current dose to stop working. We'll have to wait for that. I want to explain to you what will happen, but I need your mind to be clear for that. Are you sleepy?"

"A little", she said. "I accidentally took more than usual this morning, and I do feel a bit drowsy."

"Then go sleep", he said gently. "You're… you're going to need it."

She went up to her bedroom. She was a little worried, but the laudanum was keeping her calm, and the moment she lay down on her bed, it dragged her under and she was asleep.

…

She woke up several hours later with a vague headache. Her thoughts went immediately to her bottle of laudanum, but then she remembered that Sergio had smashed it, and that she shouldn't take any more. Suddenly, she felt a stab of worry. Now that her head was clear, the things he had said were really starting to get through to her, and she was afraid of how bad the withdrawal would be. Like the flu, he'd said, only worse. Well, she thought, resolutely swinging her legs out of bed, the flu wasn't fun, but it was bearable. She would be able to handle this as well.

She went down to where he was sitting in front of the library fire. As she came in, she stopped for a moment – he wasn't reading, he was just sitting there with his head in his hands, despair visible in the lines of his shoulders and his bent head.

"Sergio?" she said tentatively, and he looked up. When he saw her, he smiled, but she felt that it cost him.

He got up and came towards her.

"How are you feeling?"

"I have a slight headache."

He nodded. "It's starting, then. Come, please sit down. I want to talk you through what's going to happen."

He sat her down in one of the chairs in front of the fire, and she looked at him with apprehension as he moved his own chair closer so they were close together and face to face.

"Alright", he said in a low voice. "In a minute, we're going to go up to your bedroom. That's the place where you feel most comfortable, it has its own bathroom, and you'll be able to lie down, and sleep if you can. Once we're in there, I'm going to lock the door, and we won't leave until it's over."

She stared at him.

"You're going to lock the door? Why?"

He gave her a pained look.

"Because at a certain point, you're going to want to go out and buy more laudanum, and I can't let you. I… I really don't want to have to physically restrain you, so a locked room is our best option."

She stared at him. Physically restrain her? It couldn't be that bad, could it? And yet, even as she was thinking it, her head throbbed, and she felt again the automatic impulse to reach for the familiar little bottle. She pushed it away.

He leaned forward in his chair. She had never seen him so serious.

"Are you seriously committed to quitting this? Do you give me permission to lock the door and… and not let you out under any circumstances?"

"Yes", she whispered, a sense of dread in her stomach.

He nodded.

"Raquel", he said, his voice low. "This is going to be hard, but I believe you can do it. The Chinese call taking opium 'riding the dragon'. Today, we're going to fight that dragon… and we're going to defeat it. Together. Yes?"

"Yes", she said, feeling a steely sense of determination take hold of her as she looked into his eyes. "Yes, we will."

He inclined his head solemnly.

"Then let's go."

…

Sergio rang for the servants and informed them about what was going to happen. They all looked at Raquel with concerned expressions, and she felt a little embarrassed, but of course they needed to know why their lord and lady would disappear for the next 48 hours. There was a back and forth as the servants carried up enough food for two days, gallons of cold tea, basins of water, towels, firewood and more. Once everything was in place, the servants went back downstairs, and the two of them were left standing in her bedroom.

It was so strange – how often she'd wished that he would enter this room with her, yet now they were here under completely different circumstances, which she'd never wanted or imagined. The irony was rather painful. He closed the door.

"Do I have your permission to lock this?" he asked again.

"Yes", she said, and he turned the key, then took a thin silver chain out of his pocket. He put the key on the chain, then hung it around his neck and tucked it away underneath his shirt.

"Why don't you just put it in your pocket?"

He shook his head.

"That way, you could take it out too easily in case I fall asleep."

She stared at him.

"Sergio, I'm agreeing with this. I want to get rid of this problem. I'm… I'm not going to try to steal that key."

He looked down at the ground, avoiding her eyes.

"Let's just say I'm not taking any risks."

They stood looking at each other awkwardly for a moment, then he said:

"You should eat something while you don't feel nauseous yet, and we can read a bit. The less you think about it, the better."

She did as he said, and they both took up a book and sat down in front of the fireplace. Time passed slowly, and gradually she started feeling worse. Her headache became quite bad, and her muscles started aching. A little while later, she felt the nausea start, then a feeling of agitation so intense she couldn't sit still. She put down her book.

"I can't focus anymore", she sighed.

"You can get up if you want", he said quietly, putting down his book too. "Move around a bit, it will help."

She walked around the room a few times, forcing her aching muscles to move. It was all rather unpleasant, she thought, but no worse than having a bad cold or the flu. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. She could handle this. She would be fine. They were fighting a dragon, and she wasn't scared. She could already feel it stirring inside of her, but she wouldn't let it consume her.

And then the itching started. It began with a tingle on the inside of her elbow, and she scratched it absentmindedly, more focused on her various aches. He looked up immediately.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Scratch."

"Oh", she said in mild surprise. "I didn't even realize I did. It was just an itch."

"Yes", he said somberly. "That's how it starts."

When the next tingle occurred on her other arm, she ignored it, but it didn't go away. It grew stronger and stronger, and she felt more tingling start up: on her legs, her back, her stomach. She clenched her hands into fists and set her jaw to keep herself from scratching, but after a while the itching was all she could think about, and it was driving her insane.

He got up, an expression of worry on his face.

"Don't do it, Raquel."

"But it… it itches so badly."

"This is just a phase, it will go away again, but if you start scratching now, you won't stop until you bleed."

"I'm sorry", she said, her voice strained, "I can't help it."

She started scratching her arm, but it only made the itching worse – yet she couldn't stop.

"Raquel!" he said urgently. "That won't make it go away!"

She wasn't hearing him anymore – this was unbearable.

"Alright", he said, steering her towards her chair and pushing her down into it, then drawing his own chair close to hers so their knees were touching. Then he took her hands in his and held them firmly.

"I'm sorry", he said. "But I can't let you hurt yourself."

He was holding her hands. For a moment everything else fell away as she focused only on the feeling of it – of his strong hands, warm around hers, holding on tightly but gently at the same time.

"Am I hurting you?" he murmured.

"No", she whispered. "Don't let go."

He looked at her.

"I won't."

She suddenly became aware of the prickling of her skin again – it felt like she had rolled in a patch of nettles – and she started shaking slightly with wanting to scratch and not being able to.

"Raquel", he said, "look at me."

She looked up into his eyes, and they were clear and steady.

"You can do this. If you can hang on for just half an hour, it will go away again."

She drew strength from his gaze, from his hands around hers. She gritted her teeth and nodded, then asked:

"How… how do you know all of this?"

He gave her a long look, and she could see that he was considering whether he should tell her something or not. Then he seemed to come to a decision, and he started talking in a low voice.

"When I… when I was twelve, my mother became very ill. The doctor prescribed laudanum, for the pain and to help her sleep. She took a little of it. Then she took a lot."

He was speaking softly, and she was listening intently, her discomfort momentarily forgotten. He'd never spoken about his mother before.

"After a while, she couldn't live without it anymore. By the time I was fifteen, she was taking the highest possible dose. Many days, she was barely conscious. So… so we tried to get rid of it, she and I. Andrés was rarely home, even then, and my father was on a year-long trip to the Americas. The doctor wouldn't take the problem seriously. It was just my mother and me in the house."

A feeling of dread displaced the nausea in her stomach as she sensed where this was going.

"I tried… I tried to get her through it, but… I couldn't do it. We tried three times, but each time she… she begged me to get her more laudanum and… and I gave in… I wasn't strong enough."

"You were a child", she whispered. "You shouldn't have had to deal with that."

He looked down as he continued.

"After the third time… when I got her a new bottle… she… she took too much. She wanted to get rid of the pain so badly that she took too much. She fell asleep and I couldn't wake her. She never woke up again."

Raquel looked at him and her heart bled for him.

"Sergio… I'm so sorry."

"I failed her", he whispered, but then he looked up at her and she saw unshakeable determination in his eyes. "I won't fail you."

She looked down at their hands.

"Let go", she said softly.

"No, Raquel, I can't…"

"I won't scratch", she said calmly. "I promise."

He hesitated, then let go of her hands. She didn't scratch, but took his hands in hers and looked into his eyes.

"We'll make it", she said earnestly. "I… I don't know what's ahead, and I'm sorry if you'll have to be strong for the both of us. But we'll make it. I'm sure of it."

He nodded, then lifted one of her hands to his lips and kissed it.

…

The dragon inside her was roaring. This wasn't a fairytale dragon, brave and magnificent, ready to do honest battle, but a slimy and scaly beast, yellow-eyed and breathing poison, and it clawed and thrashed as she tried to fight it. The pain was bad, and she was curled up on the bed with her jaw clenched, one hand holding Sergio's so tight she knew she must be hurting him, but he didn't complain. She wouldn't give in. She wouldn't give in.

He was talking to her continuously, his voice soft and soothing. She could only occasionally focus on what he was saying, but his voice and presence were comforting nonetheless, and he was the main source of her strength as she resisted her dragon hour after hour. She was vaguely aware that it was dark outside and had been for a while, but time had lost all meaning. There was only this moment, this breath, this pain – his hand in hers.

When the sun came up, she was so tired she could cry. The pain didn't lessen, but her exhaustion was so great that she drifted in and out of consciousness for the next few hours, every moment she wasn't fully awake a blessed relief. Sergio was always by her side, helping her sit up and take sips of water when she asked for it, cooling her down by pressing damp cloths against her cheeks and forehead, or generally just talking to her when he noticed she was awake. His voice was hoarse by now from talking all through the night, but he didn't stop, though in one of her clearer moments, she could see that he was pale with exhaustion too.

"You should sleep", she tried, but her voice broke on the words.

He still understood her, and shook his head.

"No, I'm fine. Raquel", he said, squeezing her hand. "You're doing so well. So, so well. We're halfway through now."

She smiled at him, but the smile turned into a grimace as the pain seized her again. She curled in on herself and groaned.

"Will it… will it get worse than this?"

"Not the pain", he said. "But… but the feeling that you need the laudanum will get bad."

She groaned again – she already felt like she would sell her soul if it would get her a single dose. She couldn't imagine it getting any worse. After a while, the pain subsided again to a dull throbbing, and she immediately felt her exhaustion pull her down into a blissful oblivion.

…

She woke up gasping. The dragon was breathing fire in her chest – at least, that's what it felt like – being on fire from the inside. It was so bad that she couldn't even cry out, she could only lie still and gasp in breath after breath. She couldn't – she couldn't take it anymore. Where was Sergio? Why had he let go of her hand? When the pain lessened a fraction and she could move again, she turned her head and saw that he was slumped forward on the bed, sleeping. She glanced at the door, then back at him, then she shook her head at herself, bitter. If that key hadn't been around his neck… she knew perfectly well that she would be trying to take it out of his pocket now to try and go to the pharmacy, or convince one of the servants to go. Anything – anything for another dose. Anything to make this stop. He had been right to be careful with the key. She turned her face away from him and tried to fall asleep again, but she couldn't. The pain overwhelmed her again and she let out a stifled sob.

He woke up and immediately reached out to take her hand again.

"I'm so sorry", he murmured. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep."

She shook her head, grateful that his hand was back in hers.

All they could do was wait. The pain didn't get any worse – but the cravings seemed to grow by the minute. Oh, she'd never wanted anything so badly in her life – not even close – nothing compared to this. The only thing she could think about was that little bottle of laudanum, and how she would give anything in the world to have it. She wanted it desperately – she needed it, she was sure she would die without it. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.

"Sergio", she said, clutching at his arm and looking up at him. "Sergio, I can't do this."

"Yes", he said firmly. "You can."

"No", she said, and she could feel tears start streaming down her face. "No, I really can't. You have to help me."

"Raquel", he said, his voice shaking slightly. "Listen to me. You're strong. You can win this fight."

"I'm not strong", she said, more tears sliding down her cheeks. "I'm really not. Please… please go get it for me."

He gave her a desperate look.

"I can't."

"Please", she whispered. "We can do this some… some other time. I… I promise I'll be stronger next week, just… just not now. I can't, Sergio, I can't."

"You can", he repeated. "I believe in you. Just… just hold on to me, alright?"

After that, she lost consciousness, and when she woke up again, he was gone. The door to the bathroom was closed, so she got out of bed on shaking legs, then rushed towards the door, desperately trying to get it open. It didn't work, of course, and she was too weak to stay standing. She sank to the floor, curled in on herself, and buried her face in her hands.

The next thing she knew, strong arms were lifting her and carrying her back to the bed. He got onto the bed with her and held her while she cried.

"Hold on, Raquel", he whispered against her hair. "Hold on. We're almost through the worst of it. It will pass, I promise it will pass."

"I just want it to be over", she sobbed. "Please get me a bottle, Sergio, I don't care if it will kill me."

"Don't say that", he said, his voice breaking as he held her tighter. "You're stronger than this. Please Raquel, please hold on. I… I can't lose you."

I can't lose you. Even through the pain, those words reached her, and they helped to return her will to keep fighting – just a little – just enough. She took a deep breath and leaned against him, felt his warmth and strength, his arms around her, and a little flame of resolve kindled in her chest. He was right. She was stronger than this. She wouldn't let this monster win. If he said that she could do it, she could – she trusted him to know the way even though she couldn't see the road. She held on to him, and the flame inside her burned higher, brighter, hotter, rivaling the fire spewed by the dragon – a flame fueled by her anger at the pain, by her wish to be strong for him, and by a sheer, utter stubbornness that wouldn't let her give up. She would fight this dragon with everything she had – and she would win. As long as he was with her, she would win.

…

In the evening, the pain finally started to subside – little by little, the agony made way for a dull ache, and her desperate longing for more laudanum faded until only a whisper of it was left. Her mind cleared. The dragon was retracting its claws and pulling its teeth out of her flesh, its days of fire breathing over – and towards midnight, she knew that the battle was won. The fight had left her tattered and exhausted, and now that the fire inside her had burnt out, a bone-shaking cold was taking hold of her.

Sergio had fallen asleep in his chair next to the bed, but he woke up when she crawled under the sheets, shivering uncontrollably.

"How are you feeling?" he asked immediately.

"B-better", she said, her teeth chattering. "But v-very cold."

He looked over at the fireplace in alarm.

"Oh no, I've let the fire go out. I'm so sorry!"

He put more wood on and blew on the glowing embers until they kindled back into flame, but in the meantime, the freezing night air had crept into the room, and even underneath the blankets, Raquel was shaking hard.

"I'm so sorry", he said again, rushing to the closet and pulling out another blanket, which he spread over the bed. "So sorry, Raquel."

He took her hand and felt it, then looked at her in worry and dismay.

"You're ice cold! Goddammit, you haven't just gone through all of this just so I could give you hypothermia!"

He hesitated, but only for a moment – then he took of his jacket. She stared at him. Was he… was he going to do what she thought he was going to do? He took off his shoes too. Even despite the shivering, her mind was clear enough now to realize what was happening. He wanted to get in the bed with her. Underneath the sheets. To keep her warm. Oh.

He hesitated by the bedside, still fully dressed in shirt and pants, but still.

"Can I… can I get in with you? It will help you get warm much faster."

"Yes please", she whispered, and he tentatively joined her in the bed.

She was fully conscious again, but for a moment, she thought she must be dreaming – she'd dreamed so often that he would come to her bed, and he never had, and now… and now here he was. She knew nothing could happen, of course, but it didn't matter, it didn't matter in the slightest as long as he was in this bed with her, and if he intended to keep her warm, would he… yes – he shifted closer to her, lying on his side, and opened his arms to her.

"Come here", he said softly, and she was so exhausted that the emotions filling her now almost made her cry.

When he had carried her to the bed earlier and held her, she'd been too deep in the pain to really realize what was happening – she'd only registered that he was there for her, and that was all she needed to know. But now she was perfectly aware of everything, and she fully intended to savor the moment. She was still shaking as she shifted into his waiting arms, and the next moment she huddled against his chest and then – then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, and the trembling stopped.

"You'll get warm again soon now", he murmured.

She could only nod – she didn't doubt it – she could already feel herself get warm from the inside out, a warm, glowing sense of joy in her belly. Oh, the delights of being held. She nestled herself closer against him and heaved a sigh of contentment as she focused on his warmth, his nearness, his arms around her. This was exactly what she needed right now. She leaned her face against his chest and tried to be subtle as she breathed him in – he smelled so nice.

"Is that better?" he asked.

"Yes", she sighed, but then quickly added: "Though I'm still cold. Stay… stay a little longer, please."

He tightened his arms around her.

"Of course. How are you feeling now?"

"Much better", she whispered.

"Raquel", he said softly, "I think you did it. You beat it. You were so brave. I'm so proud of you."

The glow inside her grew stronger, driving the last of the cold and ache from her limbs until she was soft and warm and happy. She felt drained and exhausted and terribly weak, but also strangely clean, and her mind was clearer than it had been in weeks. She knew she wouldn't have been able to do it without him. She drew back just a little and looked up at him.

"Thank you."

He looked down at her, his arms still around her, and shook his head.

"You don't have to thank me. We take care of each other, you and I. In sickness and in health, right?"

"Right", she smiled. "In sickness and in health."

She felt a little breathless as they kept looking at each other, his eyes so warm. She felt so drawn to him – she wanted nothing more than to lift her face and press her lips to his – it just felt so right in this soft moment they were sharing… but making him uncomfortable would be a poor way to repay him after everything he'd done for her. So she looked away and buried her face against his shirt, then pressed a light kiss to his chest, so soft that he wouldn't feel it, but a kiss nonetheless.

She expected him to get out of bed any moment now – of course he'd be able to feel that she was warm again – but he made no move to do so. Minute after minute, he stayed, just holding her, and she gradually felt the exhaustion take hold of her. Her pain gone, she could finally relax. It was over. She'd made it. They had made it together – and with that thought, she could feel herself sink into a healthy sleep.

The next morning, she woke up in her husband's arms.