A/N: More editing issues this week. I haven't managed any typo, wording, or spelling issues... Please let me know if they were too numerous. I'll just have to take longer between posts if it was.
Arabella felt almost confused as she stepped out of the shuttered cab with Erik; each of them bundled up so tightly that no one would ever suspect them of being a gypsy or masked man. If anyone were to spot them in the park – quite unlikely given the time of day and year – they'd merely be seen as an elegant gentleman with his face wrapped in a scarf, and his lady. She was very happy to be out of the hose, in spite of the bitterness of the cold and the lack of sunshine or bright moonlight.
It had apparently been sleeting earlier. It left the ground covered in a sparkling blanket of frost and ice. Now, there was no sleet. Now as the clouds broke up overhead, there were only a few random snowflakes drifting prettily down through the air.
Erik silently offered her his arm, and she took it almost without thought before he began to guide her through the entrance of the Bois.
He had been rather attentive all day. She didn't quite understand why. Was it guilt over his behavior and revealed secret the evening before? Was he still unhappy about the masquerade?
It couldn't have been the dance she'd performed … could it? She hadn't done something wrong, had she?
Stop it, Bella. Adnah sighed, somewhere close to her opposite side. I'm sure everything is fine. He has always had his quiet days… and he never claimed not to care about you. Why wouldn't he be more attentive at least occasionally?
Now Adnah was standing up for Erik instead of mocking him? This day was truly getting strange. Arabella sighed, looking around and moved so close to Erik that their bodies almost brushed with each step.
"Are you frightened?" he asked in instant concern.
"No…" she admitted. "It's just cold… your body blocks some of the wind."
He chuckled quietly, motioning that she should pick which path they went down. He seemed filled with infinite patient as she glanced over their options, agonizing over whether or not she would pick the most interesting one. She hadn't been to the Bois de Vincennes enough to remember even half of the grounds, or what direction anything was in. Eventually, though, she motioned down one path and let Erik guide her.
"It's all so perfect." She admitted after several minutes of walking. They'd been in companionable silence – enjoying the quiet that overtook the world when any kind of snow fell. There were a few night sounds – and they were still close enough to the outskirts of the park to hear sounds of the city – but all of these were dampened. "It's almost too perfect. Nature rarely looks like this."
"That's because the park isn't entirely natural." Erik informed, taking on a tone of voice he often adopted when instructing her during their lessons. Most people would feel patronized by such little lectures… but he always fascinated Arabella. She was rarely bored and almost never felt talked down to. "The trees, grass, and flowers are all real, of course. But the lakes were man made – like my lake. Every detail about how most of the flowers grow – which types, colors, shapes – they're all meticulously planned. Even the grotto under the Temple of Love is artificial."
"Even with all the flowers dead… it's almost obvious." She agreed, realizing that the very mention of a Temple of Love was making her blush a little. She felt ridiculous when such simple things could affect her so strongly. It was almost as though she couldn't get any firm grasp on common sense and logical thinking; because even the mere concept of love threw her body and soul into a frenzy of excitement… and longing.
"Almost?" This time Erik did not chuckle. This time he outright laughed. "Nature has her designs… but nothing as meticulous as this. "So… is there something you would like to see? Or are we just taking in the air?"
"I… I don't know…" she admitted, ducking her chin and burying half of her face into the fur collar of her cloak. Let him think her pink cheeks were due to windburn. "It would be nice to see the grotto."
Don't you mean the Temple of Love?
I did not ask you to come along.
I would not miss this romantic little stroll for the world.
Sighing, Arabella lifted a hand to rub at her temple in mild agitation.
"Bella… are you all right?" Erik asked, again clearly concerned.
"I am." She insisted. "It's just… sometimes our unseen companion has too much to say."
She glanced up and saw that Erik's eyes had gone hard.
"Adnah…" he bit out in warning. It sounded as though he spoke through clenched teeth. "Have you nothing better to do than harass us?"
I am harassing no one!
"Never mind him, Erik." She squeezed his arm lightly through his thick coat. "He's harmless now. I came out here to be with you, that's all. That's why he is … irritating. He is behaving more like an annoying brother than a malicious spook."
She could feel Erik stiffen very briefly, but then he was carefully guiding her along the path until they came to a sloping path that led towards a bridge. It wasn't even a hill, really, but he was extra cautious guiding her along.
"The grotto and temple are just this way…" he murmured. "You can see the temple from here… see? It's just up that rise…"
Arabella nodded, peering through the naked limbs of trees and along ice-encrusted ground where grass and flowers usually thrived in warmer weather. It was not full dark yet, and the bit of light lingering after sunset was enough to make out the silhouette of the small white pavilion he referred to. It was clear that the temple was on some kind of steep hill – or the edge of a cliff.
"We should be quiet, and careful." Erik suggested, unnecessarily dropping his voice so it was nearly sub audible. It amused her in a confused sort of way that he leaned down to murmur into her ear, which pulled them closer together and made the moment feel almost flirtatious. But… she knew Erik well enough to understand he was only in a mischievous mood. "The temple and grotto are quiet places, with dark alcoves that sweethearts sometimes escape to for some often unwise privacy…"
Arabella felt heat crawl up into her cheeks, and she glanced around a little nervously.
You cannot be faulted this time. Adnah chuckled in amusement. Even to me that sounds a bit like a suggestion.
She ignored the specter haunting her the very best she could, her pulse thrumming away in her carefully gloved wrist like the beating of hummingbirds wings.
He doesn't mean it that way.
"I've come down here at night…" Erik continued, with his eyes glimmering merrily behind the mask. "…and I've been known to interrupt a few amorous couples who were enjoying the shadows of the grotto and temple. This is a place where eager boys stammer out recitations of love poems to the best of their memory. If the girl is decent… it will end there."
"And… if she is not so decent?" Arabella considered loosening the ties by her throat. But… it was much too cold. She'd rather have an embarrassing amount of difficulty with the topic than freeze.
"Then he lures her into the shadows of the grotto… and is seldom married later on."
There is almost malicious glee in Erik's voice, and Arabella feels a stab of pain on his behalf. It was no wonder to her – who knew him so well – that he'd entertained himself in such ways. Erik was not one to interfere with the outside world in general. But when he did it was almost always due to the offense he took at the simple pleasures in life others had which he thought he never would.
But he was here with her, right now. Yes, it was winter. No… he was not in a state of being to recite love poems to her. But… he was here near the temple of love with his wife. She wondered if he could even look at this outing this way… and wondered if he hoped for the future they might have or dreaded it because it was a future without Christine.
This thought instantly depressed her, and she tried to find the kind of playful enthusiasm he was showing in order to dispel the gloom.
"You are a man, Erik…" she began uncertainly, although she managed to force a little humor into her voice. "…I do not think the girls who stay fail to marry because they give away their virtue. I think it is because men enjoy at least a little bit of a chase…"
"I wish men were so noble." Erik bit out a bitter chuckle. "I'm sure plenty of them do enjoy the chase… But mostly they only want to … get what they can. Once it is done, they abandon the girl in favor of a more decent wife."
"So … you would not give chase?" she challenges.
Erik stopped halfway up the hill to the temple, turning to look at her with instant curiosity. He seemed a little wary… but the humor had not left his gaze.
"What reason would I have to give chase?" he asked.
"Wouldn't it make the reward all the more… well... rewarding?"
He looked around them slowly as the night darkened even further about them. He seemed to take her question very seriously… considering the answers he could give.
"It would be like finally solving a difficult problem, I suppose." He admitted. "If you can solve a dilemma instantly, then you have no satisfaction in the solving of it. You simply take care of it. But if you needed to work for it… yes. I suppose the reward would be all the greater."
She squeezed his arm and then stepped away from him.
"Well… I know you haven't brought me here for an amorous rendezvous. "She began impishly. "But I can still take you on a chase."
Erik was clearly flummoxed by this offer. She could not tell if he silently stammered in his sudden agitation – the scarf and mask covered him far too well. But his body twitched multiple times as he sought out another answer to give. Ultimately it looked as though he decided on keeping the mischievous gaiety, for his eyes narrowed behind the mask and his body coiled slightly as though preparing to pounce.
"You know that anyone who tries to run from me never escapes." He warned her, his voice nearly a predatory purr.
"Then I shall have to make it a challenge!" she laughed. "Close your eyes."
Sighing, Erik straightened – squaring his shoulders and closing his eyes obediently.
He cracked one eye open a slit almost instantly.
"No!" she scolded, laughing again. She took his wrists and pressed both of his hands over his face. "No peeking! Count to thirty, and then see if you can find and catch me. If you can catch me in five minutes…"
He pulled his hands down just enough to peer at her over his fingers. His eyes were wide not only in amusement; but also amazed curiosity.
"Yes...?" he pressed.
Arabella held her breath, staring into his eyes. She could feel the blood pumping through her veins now… knowing what kind of a creature she was about to invoke in playing this game with Erik. This was all in fun – and she was certain he was fully aware of that. But Erik was merciless when he was on any sort of prowl. It… it excited her.
Then give him the incentive, you silly girl!
"Catch me in five minutes, and you win the game." She blurted out quickly. "Winners always get a prize… and I will let you pick what your prize is!"
"Wait!" he protested as she took a step back and began to turn away. "What if I lose?"
He didn't sound at all hesitant. She knew he didn't believe that he could lose.
"Then I pick my prize." She stated, as though this should have been painfully obvious.
"You know I hate to lose…" He warned.
"I'm aware." She promised. "Now… cover and close your eyes. I don't trust you not to peek!"
She turned and carefully dashed along the path towards the temple and the grotto.
"One… two…" she could hear Erik obediently begin counting – although a little faster than she had anticipated.
She made her way directly towards the grotto, taking the curving steep path that led down below the temple. Erik had not been exaggerating. The Temple of Love was built directly on top of the grotto – and the grotto sat only inches above and beside Lac Daumesnil. They'd already used a bridge in order to reach the Isle de Reuilly. Without turning back and passing him to reach the bridge once more, she had limited options of where to run and hide. It would be far too easy for Erik to find and catch her if she remained in the grotto… but she had no intentions of staying put.
Besides… she wanted Erik to win. She was avidly curious what he would demand for a prize.
"I'm coming for you!" she hears him call, before she has even managed to disappear down the hill from where she knows he was standing when she started to run.
I could have told you he was going to cheat. Adnah claimed into her ear, clearly amused. That man never plays by anyone's rules but his own.
It doesn't matter. She returned silently, letting her feet slip on the downhill path into the darkness of the grotto. She had to hold her hands out and to the side for balance, and would probably need to feel her way through most of the grotto. It was a simple horseshoe-shaped cavern of sorts with large wide arches open to the lake – with railings that had been put up for obvious safety purposes. But the night was still dark. Erik may be inventive and cunning… but he is not a spontaneous risk taker!
She took the railing in both hands and hauled herself over it in order to carefully put the balls of her feet down on the ice of the lake.
Are you out of your mind? Adnah demanded angrily.
No… she wasn't. But she didn't answer the ghostly voice next to her ear. He was nothing but an unwelcome distraction when she needed her full concentration to stay reasonably safe. But nothing was ever gained without risk. Not anything worth having, at least. She wanted Erik to win this game so that she could hear what his demand for a prize would be. She doubted it would be anything that she'd object to – even if it were something like a kiss. But Erik was not the kind of man to demand a kiss.
"Where are you?"
She glanced to her left, momentarily thinking that he'd decided to cut off her escape from the opposite end of the grotto. Then she remembered that Erik could throw his voice. For all she knew, he was already feet behind her to the right. Her head whipped around even as she put her feet more firmly on the surface of Lac de Daumesnil to find the grotto still entirely empty. At least… it seemed to still be so.
Get back onto land before you kill yourself – again! Adnah demanded furiously.
That stung… She had never meant to die… even when she'd driven a knife deep into her stomach. Death had never been her ultimate goal. She'd have accepted death, yes…but it had never really been her intent. Glowering in the direction of Adnah's voice, she planted her weight carefully but entirely on the ice and began to back away from the grotto. She searched every available shadow in sight – not letting herself forget how crafty Erik could be. He could come toward her from the mostly dead trees and bushes on either side of the grotto just as easily as from the Temple above or the grotto itself. He probably wouldn't come from the temple – his landing would risk injury and worse given the ice.
Erik would not want a docile woman who played by the rules. She was taking a risk – a very calculated risk.
Then what was his interest in Christine? Adnah demanded.
Go away! No one asked you!
A shadow moved to her left, and before even registering it might not be Erik, she scuttled backward and to the right. Her foot slipped momentarily, but the ice still felt firm beneath the crystals she'd slid over. A squeal of adrenaline-filled delight – and a little amusing fear – escaped her lips.
"Two minutes!" she called in a sing-song meant to echo his tone of voice. "You have two minutes to catch me, or I win!"
"No, it is three minutes!" he corrected impishly.
This time she was sure the shadow that moved within the grotto was Erik. Her eyes locked onto it, and she stepped even further away. He became clearer the longer she looked at him, as he stepped out of the darker shadows until the dim moonlight caught his frame. She could barely see him, given that he was dressed head to toe in black. Except for his mask, he might as well have been nothing but a shadow – and his hat and scarf hid most of that. Finally he reached for the railing she'd climbed over, and she could see that his gloves were an elegant and pristine white.
"I'm coming to get you, beautiful dancer…" he teased, his voice now much lower so that it was a pleasurably threatening purr. But he made no move to make his way onto the ice. She could tell he was scanning the surface with his eyes – trying to decide what the best course of action was. He did not seem upset by the risk she was taking.
"If you want me… come and get me."
She crouched down, never taking her eyes off of him, and managed to scrape a fine layer of snowy ice crystals from the surface of the lake before tossing them at him. It made a fine sparkling dust in the air between them… like magic.
"You're being a coward!" she taunted.
Erik gripped the railing more tightly with one hand, but the other reached into his coat … just as though he were searching for his Punjab lasso.
With another cry – knowing Erik would never hurt her even if he was intending to use a deadly weapon – she spun and tried to make more space between them so that his lasso couldn't reach her. Her eyes were on the ice ahead, seeing thinner and darker patches far up ahead. But there was still a scrim of actual snow where she was. Surely that had to mean-
"Bella!" Erik called – all amusement suddenly gone from his voice.
Her foot came down on one patch of pure white ice and she spun back toward him. He was leaning out over the railing with almost all of his body, one leg lifted as though preparing to jump it if he must. She laughed; surprised that she was suddenly so daring and carefree. Usually she was not quite this daring.
There was no sound. She just took half a step back in order to make certain she wouldn't slip and it felt as though nothing at all were there to greet her but a sheath of painful cold. She sucked in a breath and tried to lift her foot, but the shock nearly took her breath away and her coordination left her. The foot still on the ice slipped out from under her and slid forward, allowing her already sinking foot to drop straight down into the water.
It wasn't very deep; but as her leg went through the ice, more and more of it around her nearly evaporated as though it had never existed. Her rear all but slammed onto the edge of the disintegrating ice and the next thing she knew her entire body seemed to be going under. The leg that had slid out from beneath her went through the disintegrating ice and joined the first one in almost ankle deep, half-frozen mud.
"Bella!" she heard Erik cry out. But he seemed far away in that moment. The cold water was up to her armpits, and the frigidness squeezed the air from her lungs like a corset that has been done up too tight. Her head fell back so that her hood landed in the water, along with much of her hair, and she flailed wildly for the surface that was still disappearing all around her. She didn't panic… but her arms were simply instinctively searching for a way to escape. She wasn't drowning, even though the water clogged her clothing instantly and made moving feel nearly impossible.
"Erik!" she squealed – not able to manage much volume due to her lack of breath. She could feel her heart pounding as she tried to yank her boot-clad feet out of the half-frozen mud at the bottom of the lake. She began sucking in desperate breaths of air, looking around her in little more than shock. Her arms and hands went under the water, leaving little more than her face dry.
Bella – you're facing the shore! Adnah sounded like he was directly beside her again. You have to get to the shore!
It could not have been long since she'd broken through the ice, but Arabella had instantly lost all track of time. She tried to focus on the grotto and Erik; but the moon was mostly hidden behind a slowly passing cloud in that moment and she could only dimly make out the white of the structure.
"Bella!" Erik cried again. "You're all right! You're all right! Come towards me – I'll get you out but you have to come my way!"
He didn't sound panicked… How was that possible? Arabella tried to keep her thoughts focused, but all she could register was the cold. Still, she could tell roughly where his voice was coming from … and of course he wouldn't rush out to help her. If he fell through as well, they would both be in trouble. She glanced down at the surface of the water – which was only three inches below her nose. She tried to see her body; but it was just too dark.
Go, Bella!
She nodded and tried to take a step – but her feet wouldn't move.
Oh my God! I'm trapped!
No you are NOT! Just… pull your feet out! One at a time!
Taking in another breath, Arabella tried to reach down into the water – which submerged her completely as she tried to find her ankles through the thick coat and layered dress she wore.
"Bella! Oh, Mon Dieu!"
She began to shiver as she stood up straight again, sucking in air desperately.
"I can't get my feet out!" she managed to scream.
Erik was cursing in nearly every language he knew, and now she could see him. He had vaulted himself over the railing to land on the ice closest to shore, and was busily doing something with the cast iron of the bannister. It looked like he was tying a rope… but Erik had no rope. She tried to step forward again, and almost lost her boot.
"Bella – you have to get out of the water!" he bellowed – sounding more worried now. Not quite frantic… but definitely deeply concerned. "Now!"
"I can't move!" she insisted shrilly – the cold having overcome her common sense and ability for linear, logical thinking completely. "My feet- my boots-"
"-Damn your boots!" Erik insisted. "Rip your feet out of them and come towards me – now!"
It was the voice of the Phantom – a voice absolutely no one would dare ignore. It reached her almost like a concussive force, and she instantly jerked one foot then the other up out of the mud with all her strength. Unfortunately, only one boot came up out of the half-frozen mud. The other nearly tore her stocking off as it resisted her efforts to escape. She felt her body lurch forward, and again she tumbled completely underwater. Her clothing was getting heavier with every moment – just like her limbs. When she managed to struggle back to her feet – instinctively grimacing at the feel of the only partially giving mud under one stockinged sole – she began breathing even more heavily. Her lungs didn't want to cooperate. Everything was so cold that it burned as she tried to plow her way towards slush and ice towards the grotto.
I can't breathe!
Yes, you can! It's all right! Look at Erik! LOOK AT HIM!
She forced her eyes open and tried to look through the water that dripped from her hair and blurred her vision. The shivering was getting worse, making her coordination more difficult. Each tiny breath she managed to take was coming out almost like the scream of a petrified mouse.
Erik had finished tying whatever he'd had around the railing meant to keep people inside the grotto. Now he was throwing clothing back into the artificial structure, leaving himself in nothing but whatever clothing he might have worn in the flat. He'd discarded his hat, his scarf, his mask, his coat, and even his vest and one glove. She didn't know why he'd only gotten rid of one glove until he leaned out over the ice holding whatever he'd tied to the railing in one fist. He was straining towards her with all of his weight, stretching his free hand out towards her.
"Come!" he commanded again. She was just close enough now to see the growing fear in his eyes, and it made her own heart and breathing pick up pace.
She was finally to more somewhat sturdier ice, but that meant she couldn't continue walking. The surface of the lake was just at waist level, and she thought it would be at least reasonably easy to climb to safety in spite of her shivering. But when she leaned forward with her hands outstretched and pulling at the ice, kicking up with both feet from the ground, the entire slab within a foot of her simply gave way – letting her fall all at once into the water again. This time she went to scream in frustration and fear and found herself choking on the water.
Bella, no!
"Arabella!"
She wasn't sure how loud Erik must have screamed for her to hear him under the water, but she did. She rolled her body and forced herself upward – but each movement was completely uncoordinated and panicked. If she hadn't resurfaced exactly where she'd gone down, she likely would have drowned under the ice even though she'd just discovered how weak it was. She couldn't quite float, but she tried to; continuing to choke on the water that had invaded her lungs.
"Bella!" Erik screamed again, his voice even louder – but not just because she was at surface level. She blinked blearily as she finally got back the ability to breathe, and stared up at the cloud broken sky. "Bella, look at me!"
She let out a tearless sob as she slowly tried to get her feet back under her. Her teeth were chattering, she shivered so hard, and she tasted blood. She wondered vaguely if she'd bit her tongue and was just so cold that she couldn't feel it. She forced her body to make a slow turn until she could see the grotto and Erik crouched on the ice with his body straining in her direction.
"Av akai, mira kom!" He pleaded in Romani, startling her briefly. He didn't even seem aware that he'd started spouting endearments – or another language. In another moment he'd switched over to Spanish. "Just a little closer!"
Still giving big wet sobs without tears – none that she could feel, at least – Arabella staggered in his direction with her dripping arms once again over the water as though struggling to keep her balance. The ground under the water wasn't exactly even… but at least she could no longer feel the rocks on her one foot without the boot. When she made it to seemingly solid ice again, she pounded on it with her arms and fists, trying to find any point of weakness.
There didn't seem to be any.
"Good girl!" Erik encouraged, allowing his hand to slip on whatever it was he was holding. His other hand reached for something on the ground. "Can you lie on it? See if you can get your body as much out of the water as possible, mira kom!"
She tried to push herself up again, but the ice threatened to give and she instantly released the shelf in fear of going under once more.
She was getting dizzy… spots were dancing in front of her eyes.
Calm down, Arabella. Adnah soothed in her right ear, apparently reading her fear as she swayed. Take in a few deep breaths. You're almost there. Erik can get you out… but you can't let him get wet. If he gets wet, you will both possibly die!
Why do you care? She demanded, bowing her head and starting to turn as though to make her way along the shelf of ice.
"Where are you going?" Erik demanded. "Bella! Look at me!"
She stopped abruptly and turned her head lethargically in his direction. He was a little closer – at the end of whatever tether he'd tied behind him. In his free hand – held out towards her once again – dangled a long and thin piece of …
The Punjab lasso! Erik had a habit of carrying every possible weapon with him. She thought she could remember him taking at least two knives, a boot knife, two lassos, and his sword cane with him when they left the house. He did not leave anything to chance whenever possible…
"Hold your arm over your head!" he instructed her. "Like this – like there is something falling onto you!"
He demonstrated briefly before swinging the as yet unused lasso lightly from his hand again.
Arabella squinted at him in confusion. She just wanted to get onto the ice and lie down… why did he need her to play pantomime?
He's going to use the lasso to get you! Adnah was speaking much more than that now – letting loose a string of both encouragement and debasement to try and keep her mind in the present moment. It wasn't working particularly well – but he managed that much. Unfortunately the idea of Erik using the Punjab Lasso on her wasn't encouraging – especially as she grew more tired and confused.
"Bella – NOW!"
It was the commanding voice of the Phantom once again, and she obeyed without even meaning to. She ducked her head, clutching her arm as tightly as she could over the entire top of her head. Her other arm came up to try and protect her face – and a moment later she felt the loop of cat gut catch her almost at neck level – tightening just above the armpits so that her arms were restrained against either side of her head. She gasped as Erik jerked hard and she tumbled forward onto the nearest shelf of ice. It wasn't quite enough to get her out of the water, and she barely managed to scream in panic and pain as the rope bit into her skin through her wet clothing.
"Help me!" Erik ordered. "Kick your feet, Arabella! Kick them as hard as you can!"
She tried… she really did. But her skirts hampered her efforts, and she only barely managed any results with her one bootless foot. It seemed to be enough though, as her body moved almost parallel to the ice and Erik jerked again – even harder this time – on his lasso. Again she screamed in pain, feeling as the rope lost partial hold on her and slid up towards her elbows. Much further and the lasso would lose her entirely because they'd simply slide off the curves of her bent elbows.
"Grab the lasso!"
Arabela sucked in a deep breath, and let her head fall helplessly onto the ice. Her feet still dangled in the water, but at least she was now free all the way down to her knees.
I just need… a minute…
You don't HAVE a minute! Take the damned rope, Bella!
Leave me alone!
I'll go away and not even come haunting you for a week if you just GRAB THE LASSO!
Grunting, Arabella let her arms fall limp. Erik was tugging at the lasso again, and this time it tightened so hard that it slid right down to her wrists and virtually tied them together before catching on the underside of her hands where they joined to her arms. There was no pain this time. She was too tired… too cold… too weak. But when she felt the tops of her feet hit ice, she managed to bend her legs and tried to push further towards Erik with her heels.
"Stay with me!" Erik pleaded. "Mira kom!"
"Miri…" she tried to mumble in return. But she could barely even lift her chin. Sighing, she felt all of her muscles give out. She didn't think she was shivering quite so badly anymore… That was good…
There was a scraping sound somewhere above her head, and she managed to force her eyes open and roll them towards her outstretched and aching hands. Erik was making his very careful way closer to her, reaching out and trying to grab between her wrists where the rope gripped her. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to trust the ice enough to get quite that close.
"Can you grab it with your fingers?" he asked, panting for breath. She could see that he was shivering – his breath coming out in great puffs of white air. "Bella … just a little more… please. Take the rope in your hands and hold on tight, mira kom."
Whimpering, she tried to listen; but she couldn't even feel the rope. Her fingers closed around it rather limply, and nodding Erik gripped his end of it with both hands and tugged hard. His heels dug into the ice closer to her body – although they still slipped a little – and he leaned back as far as he could in order to get her in close. In another moment she was close enough for him to reach, and he swiftly removed the rope from her wrists only to find they were raw and almost to the point of bleeding. The hand that hadn't been protected by a soaking wet glove was worse off than the other; but since the rope had caught underneath the glove she did wear, it wasn't worse off by much.
"Come…" Erik was panting for breath, cold and exhausted and clearly afraid. But he still put his lasso away in one trouser pocket before pulling her by the forearms and scuttling himself backward until they were up against the edge of the grotto where the ice was sturdy. "Bella… we have to get these off of you."
A/N: Just as a reminder:
Mira/Miri Kom: "My Love" The 'a" is from the feminine and the "I" is from the masculine.
Thank you SO MUCH for all the on-going love! E.M.K.81 – you are AWESOME! I've had so much fun doing this and I cannot wait to eep it going!