What was that?

Arabella stood in the shadow of her Tsera, pressing one hand to the top of her stomach just beneath her breasts. It felt as though her hand ought to be clasped of her throat or heart… but it seemed far too melodramatic for the confusion she felt. Erik's eyes had entrapped her, they had managed to lose themselves together in the music as though the smoke from the fire swirled around them and blocked out the world. It had been an enjoyable and exhilarating dance, making her realize there was much more to an art like flirtation than hands smoothing over bare arms or leering comments and innuendos.

What confused her about it was that she hadn't actually been flirting with Erik, and he sure as hell hadn't been flirting with her. How could she feel a distinct sense of flirtation and attraction when neither of them had intended such a thing? For Heavens' sake! He had been wearing a mask that covered his hideous deformity and left nothing but his eyes to express emotion. He hadn't used his voice or his body… although she had to admit his posture had changed and seemed to strain towards her slightly without so much as leaning in. Maybe she was the one who'd done the actual leaning in, drawn in as she had been by his intense stare.

She'd felt a little breathless as the slow and sedate dance had ended, which made no sense whatsoever! She'd glanced around nervously once he bowed and lowered his gaze from hers, breaking the spell she'd been under. It had taken every ounce of strength within her to remain and stammer through a few more pleasantries before running off like a frightened little coward. Erik had praised her grasp on the simple dance, gracefully noted that he was weary and thought he should retire for the night, and given her a way to escape without feeling like a total fool.

No one was in the tent… but she didn't want to go in. She didn't want to return to the world her father lived in.

As confused as she was, she would rather live in the smoky world she'd just discovered with Erik. The longer she stood in contemplation, the easier it was to realize that whatever had happened, it hadn't left her feeling bad in any way. In truth, she actually wanted to return to that peaceful moment. It had been warm, and glowing… and absence of all negativity. Whether Erik had been flirting with her, or whether she had just imagined that cocoon of niceness… she wanted it back.

You idiot!

Erik berated himself violently as he stalked into his dark red room with its hated iron cage. He didn't think anyone had followed him from the campfire, but knew they'd be looking for him soon enough once they realized he'd left the festivities. He saved everyone the stress by going straight to the cage, and locking himself within. For once, the cage felt more like a sanctuary rather than a prison. It was good just to escape that tension of fear and disgust he'd realized was building between them… all of it coming from Arabella.

You frightened your only friend here, you stupid fool! What is the matter with you?

He certainly hadn't been trying to frighten her. In fact, he wasn't sure what had set her off to begin with. They'd been having such a good time together, laughing and talking… dancing as though he were utterly normal and the crowd around them accepted him as one of their own. It had been a tantalizingly wonderful illusion. Yes… he knew it was nothing but a fantasy… but he couldn't imagine just what he'd done to make her suddenly remember his hideous countenance and frighten her.

He'd felt the draw between them during the first steps of the dance, his dedication to the music they moved to intensifying everything. He'd had an image in his mind of her falling – only much faster than she'd collapsed against him that one night. He'd wanted to reach out and catch her, but hadn't dared touch her more than any of their dances strictly required. He knew how repulsive he was… and how unpleasant the look and feel of his skin was. Still, more curious than the strange impression that her eyes screamed she was falling, was his sense of the same thing in him. It was a long, fast and terrifying fall… but the landscape he fell through was so stunningly beautiful that he lost his breath and couldn't draw it back in to scream.

His body had tensed, and he'd leaned towards her, wanting to reach out and catch her while simultaneously saving himself… and at some point she'd responded to his own reaction. She'd shrunk slightly before his eyes, her gaze dancing side-to-side as though trying to break their mutual stare without success. Her shoulders had wilted noticeably, and there had been the mildest of tremors in her body when he finally stepped back and bowed. She was much too kind of a person to immediately turn away, or confront him about what was going on… so he'd endured as much of her goodness as he could before deciding to escape without making her feel the need to end it herself.

He hadn't realized until the cool shadows of the night swallowed him whole that he realized he was also trembling just a little.

Whatever strange connection they'd just made, it wasn't something he thought he wanted to repeat. He wouldn't want the intensity of it to terrify Arabella. He didn't want her to feel the need to draw away from him. Losing the easy report that they'd found through their earlier dancing… to Erik, it would be a travesty. He had so little to look forward to in this life, in spite of the steps he took to gain his freedom and any form whatsoever of power he had over those around him. He didn't want power over Arabella.

In his simple – and he thought innocent – way, he just wanted her.

The idea of wanting Arabella… of needing her to lighten the darkness of his life at all, made him shudder with indignation… but he couldn't just make that need or want disappear.

Unlike what he'd told his mother… there were some things he couldn't just vanish into thin air.

Feelings were not nearly as tangible as a house.

Trouble with the local constable began the following day. An entire group of policemen appeared in camp to speak with Casimir's father. The conversation was casual compared to what it could have been, considering the veiled threats of violence. Apparently, there had been a lot of complaints about people leaving the gypsy fair only to discover they'd been robbed. Such accusations followed gypsies everywhere they went, regardless of whether or not anyone had actively been pickpocketing for profit. It didn't affect Casimir much, or the group around him who heard the entire exchange.

What did become clear was that it was time to move along to fresh grounds.

Under the vague threat the police had issued, Arabella joined the rest of the camp in packing. It took less than half the morning to prepare to leave, and soon they were in a great caravan, ready to move along into another county… maybe even another country. Still, in spite of their sudden uprooting, the mood of the group was still very celebratory. The wedding the day before had begun a feast meant to last several days… and their travelling didn't dampen those intentions in the slightest. There was a great deal of conversation, music, and laughter… and even a little performing as they travelled by anyone they might stand a chance at earning money from.

Arabella walked up to Erik as they walked.

"Hello again." She said cheerily.

He gave her a sidelong glance, managing an uncertain smile at her simple and till warm approach. There was clearly a little uncertainty from her now as well, but it definitely wasn't keeping her at bay. In fact, she seemed more determined to get beyond it as she looked up at him and waited for a response.

"Good afternoon, Bella." He murmured quietly, turning to stare ahead of them. "I hope you aren't too disappointed to be leaving the area so soon."

"No." she admitted with a shrug. "It was getting to that point anyways. The crowds were starting to thin out. Honestly, we should have been on our way weeks ago… but no one wanted to get in the way of a great wedding for Sarima and Casimi."

"Ah…" Erik smiled to himself faintly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I expected to."

They walked a while in companionable silence, simply listening to the conversations that faded in and out of earshot around them. Erik heard Sven and Vlad grumbling about needing to move so soon after discovering Erik and being able to use him to fleece the locals. He snorted, wondering why more than a month of richly profits hadn't been enough.

Arabella glanced up as he smirked noticeably beneath that damnable bit of cloth he called a mask.

"What?" she demanded, earning another slightly startled glance.

"Pardon?"

"You were smiling just now." She pointed out. "What were you thinking about"
"Oh…" Erik scrambled over whether to tell her the truth or lie through his teeth. He didn't think that she would tell anyone if he confessed to the minor thefts he'd committed since being liberated from his cage… but he couldn't be certain. "I'm… surprised at all the grumbling about moving on to greener pastures. I thought gypsies were all about the nomadic lifestyle."

She frowned at him slightly, and he had the distinct impression of being punched in the arm without her even lifting an eyebrow.

"We do like to keep moving." She admitted. "But we're seldom welcome in a place long enough to make any worthy income. When we have a chance to remain settled for a time, it's nice."

Erik tilted to face her as they walked, unintentionally showing off his good balance as he used a constant side-step to continue their conversation.

"I've heard complaining about moving on this soon." He reiterated. "You don't sound like it's something that ever crossed your mind."

Arabella chewed on her cheeks, seeming to think carefully through his observation. He was surprised she didn't jump to her own defense, insisting that she was a pure gypsy through-and-through. It was curious, as he'd come to know them as a somewhat obnoxiously proud race.

"I suppose I'm just curious about what it would be like." She admitted quietly after long thought. "Living indoors for most of your life… not having quite so many different faces constantly in and out of it. The gypsy life… is kind of like having an extended family for too long under one roof that isn't big enough for everyone."

He threw back his head and nearly howled laughter.

"You're probably right!" he acceded, all but wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of one eye.

Several more minutes went by, and Erik began to watch her more speculatively.

"Is there something in particular you wanted?" he queried.

"No…" Arabella glanced up at him with a simple little smile then looked forward again. "I just thought we could continue spending some time together while we had the chance. Last night… It was… nice… It's been a while since I've had a friend who didn't already know every last possible detail about me… or who I didn't know just as well in return."

She didn't consider the secrets about her father to be the type that Sarima should ever have known. She also fully expected there were things that all people kept secret from all times… except perhaps their spouse if they were truly in love. Secrets - so far as she'd ever known - was a part of life that needed to be accepted.

"You're the first human friend I've ever told things to." Erik murmured; his confession nearly inaudible. "I enjoyed last night just as much as you did. I just thought… given how things ended…"

"Ended?" Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? I thought everything ended fine. Did I do something wrong?"
He stopped dead on the road, and she stared at him curiously.

"I thought… I thought I'd frightened you." He sighed. "You seemed to … pull back in the end… I thought I'd done something wrong."

"You didn't!" Arabella blurted quickly. "Really. I had such a good time! I just… I… well…"

It was his head to tilt his head in confusion. But he didn't try to prompt her. She was a woman who was clearly careful with her words when she wasn't feeling righteous anger.

"I don't know how to explain it." She finally admitted. "The point is; I had a wonderful time. Whatever did happen… the thing I can't explain... I realized later that it wasn't frightening. It was just new, and it took me off guard. I'm not used to being friends with anyone of the male gender."

Erik looked ahead of them skeptically, and Arabella followed his gaze until she realized he was staring at Adnah. The young gypsy man was up on a wagon seat, and had turned from his control over the horses to watch them with speculatively narrowed eyes. Her face suffused with a pale blush, and her eyes dropped to the road. Erik continued staring at the man until he turned back to the road ahead.

"Adnah… he's not really a friend." She explained after a short time. "We made a deal. He promised that he wouldn't let you be abused like you were those first days… would see you received a few simple creature comforts… and I would be nice to him in return."

"Nice?" Erik echoed.

"Yes." She nodded firmly. "We have pleasant conversation; sit near campfires while eating a meal on occasion. I've come to feel more indifferent to him than anything else… but before we made that deal, I hated him."

Erik felt his brow lift in surprise.

"Hate is a strong word." He pointed out.

"It was a strong emotion." She admitted. "He disgusted me. He still does disgust me… but I don't really know why. I'm not even sure why I've hated him for so long. I can understand disliking someone for their … habits… but hate? I don't know… it's just how I feel. Or, at least, how I did feel."

"I see…" he mused. "Well… in that case… I'm honored to be your first male friend. It must take a lot to trust men in general… I'm having enough trouble trusting you… But, then again, I'm having trouble trusting anyone. My own mother was hardly trustworthy – at least in her temperament."

"Bella!"

They both turned as Tsifia came striding up to them with a large cask of water in her hands. Arabella glanced up at Erik apologetically, and then stopped walking again so that her grandmother could catch up. Erik gave an understanding shrug and smile, and nodded his head in farewell as he turned to continue on.

She took the water her grandmother offered gratefully. Then, for long moments, they walked in an oddly tense silence while her grandmother chewed on her own unspoken words.

"You may as well say it." Arabella sighed once the strange quiet began to eat at her nerves. "I can actually hear the thoughts gnawing away at your brain. It must heart."

Tsifia chortled at the rare moment, knowing her granddaughter didn't think such witticisms often.

"People are beginning to talk." She stated simply. "The time you spent last night with the boy… the way you found him out just now. "The way you prefer his company to that of your own people… they don't like it."

"They've never made any real effort to seek me out." Arabella scoffed quietly. "Why should they care if a friend I make happens to be an outsider?"

Tsifia gave her granddaughter a long, almost pitying gaze. She knew the girl had no idea how long it had taken for the rest of the camp to give up on reaching out to her. If it hadn't of been for her parents, her sweet Arabella would have been raised by the whole community; loved and cherished as though she were the biological child of every couple in residence. She'd been so manipulated by Yaakov and his wife; she couldn't see beyond their treatment of her and clearly realize how things weren't supposed to be that way. She could only see the same treatment from everyone. It actually made perfect sense for her to reach out to the one outsider who reached back. The others she'd helped over the years always offered her a tentative friendship after she helped them, but it always seemed more obligatory than sincere.

"You danced with him rather than Adnah, who so clearly admires you." The old woman finally sighed. She wasn't condemning her granddaughter, but felt she had a right to be aware of the tenuous reputation she had. "You are already half-blooded. They don't want you dirtying the bloodline further by being seen with another gaje."

Arabella quite literally skidded to a stop in the road, dust billowing up from the friction her poor shoes encountered in the dirt. Her eyes were enormous as she took in Tsifia's words, staring at her grandmother in total disbelief.

"Dirtying the bloodline?" she echoed. "For God's sake, Bunica! It isn't as though I've crept off into some dark corner to be with him! Erik is my friend, and … nothing else!"

She was surprised that the words actually hurt her slightly, although she couldn't fathom why. It wasn't as though she wanted more than friendship from Erik. She didn't want even that much from most men.

"You know how fragile a girl's reputation is." Tsifia pointed out, very softly compared to Arabella's outburst. "They will think you are marime, like your mother."

"I was born marime, through the union of my parents." Arabella hissed angrily. "My father muddied those waters even further. They have no right to judge me further! And if they see me as such a filthy half-breed, they have no reason to care what I do – or who I do it with!"

People were looking at them now as they stood partially in the way of their caravan. Tsifia lanced around at them anxiously, reaching out one of her birdlike hands to try and calm her granddaughter. Arabella didn't care. She jerked away from her grandmother's tentative grasp and glared right back at the people staring at her. Eventually, her gaze returned to Tsifia's, and her eyes were as hard as flint.

"Erik is my friend." She repeated. "I've no room in a life like mine for anything more than that – from any man."

"Bella, my dear…" Tsifia tried again. "They have heard about that night in his tent… when he helped you. But they don't know the entire story. They only think-"

"-oh, let them think whatever they want!" Arabella huffed, and turned to stalk away. "They're going to anyway!"

As she continued up the road, slowly coming up along Erik's side again, she wondered exactly what the rumors about that night were. Did the camp think she and Erik had slept together? It was actually rather unnerving, to think her reputation had been thoroughly soiled just by seeking help for her injuries. Even if no one knew just what had led her to the tent that night… it hardly seemed fair to jump to conclusions. Adnah had more or less seen her state of dress before Erik had tended to her – although he'd been blind to any hint of blood. She had, after all, tried her best to conceal her wounds. Still… couldn't the gypsy dinilo recognize friendship and assistance over any underlying innuendos that might have been witnessed by her sleeping in the strange boys' arms?

Apparently not.

She looked sidelong up at Erik, neither of them speaking as she considered her predicament. She wasn't about to give up the happiness his friendship brought to them both. Not for the good thoughts of people who barely cared about her. She might as well enjoy her growing status as a fallen woman if she was going to rebel so thoroughly against the conventions of her people. She may never be able to be more than a friend to Erik…

But she felt more towards him in terms of affection and trust than she'd ever felt towards anyone – even her own grandmother. It didn't have to make any sense for her to know that it was the type of feeling you didn't come across on a regular basis. She was going to embrace every moment of it… and allow herself to grope like a blind woman for the warmth of sunlight… for more.

Marime: polluted, defiled: rejected or outcast by trial