A/N: WARNING! The following chapters contain extreme violence and sexual situations! Not gory, or PARTICULARLY explicit, but you deserve a warning!

There was a strong smell of coffee and food in the air when Erik woke the next morning. By the light outside – although he couldn't be absolutely certain, given the lighter quality of his tent – it seemed to be just barely dawn. With a long indrawn breath, he inhaled the scent of nearby coffee, and the soft aroma of dew-dampened grass. There was a peace in waking he hadn't experienced in a very long time.

No one was going to come charging into his tent and beating him. No one would be telling him when or how to perform for the terrible crowds.

His life was his own now, for the first time ever.

Sighing in contentment, Erik sat up on his pallet and gazed around his small but more than satisfying sanctuary. He'd discovered after Arabella's departure that the tent standing so close to his belonged to Tsifia, severe but not unkind grandmother. He'd been eating outside his tent when she came back alone that evening, and she'd actually asked if she might join him. They'd shared a long and simple discussion about her trade as a fortune teller, and what that really entailed – although she claimed there were still many Romani secrets involved that he could never be told. She had, however, offered to teach him how to read the Tarot deck when he showed interest, and even how to make a few small tonics and poultices that were often necessary in their given lifestyles.

He'd been taken aback by her offers, although considering Arabella must have learned her kindness from someone, he realized in retrospect that he probably shouldn't have been. He also realized that she was curious about him in her own right; concerned over her granddaughter's interest in such a strange and twisted creature. Not once did the woman try to scold him for asking to see her granddaughter alone. She showed him nothing but civility and gentleness, although her attitude for some of their discussion subjects brought out a harder side to her. Clearly, she was a woman with a core of iron.

She'd finally bid him a good night, and gone into her tent… which was of course how he realized it was where she lived. He supposed Arabella must have chosen that spot for him because Tsifia would assist him in any reasonable way he might need, if only for Arabella's sake. Erik had gone to sleep himself not long after, although it had been hard to fall asleep. He'd been afraid that falling asleep would mean that he woke up in the damnable cage, proving the entire evening to be nothing more than a dream.

As he carried his coffee out of the tent to see how the morning would be, he thanked a God he wasn't sure he believed in (and certainly didn't trust) for the gift that had been granted him. He had freedom… he had a friend.

But, as ungrateful as it was, he found he wanted more.

Arabella gave Erik her best smile as she wandered by toward the forest. Although there was a massive crowd between the two of them, his eyes had found her the moment she came into view, and remained on her in spite of his continued musical performance. He stood up on a platform he'd quickly created earlier that morning, bringing himself higher than the crowds who were so repulsed by his face but so drawn in like flies to honey by his voice.

He'd also managed to scrounge up material for a new mask, a scrap of black crushed velvet that was enough to conceal him until the right moment, but had yet to be shaped to the contours of his face. The master at what he did, Erik was fully capable of keeping his audience entertained as he closely watched her move across the crowded and cluttered meadow towards the forest that partially surrounded them.

They hadn't said much more than a 'good morning' to each other yet that day… her family duties that morning having kept her away even from her grandmothers' tent. He'd also clearly been busy and preoccupied with his own preparations for the day. It was good to see him performing outside in the sunshine, even if it meant even more people could see him all at once – as high up as he made the stage. Then again, maybe that was exactly what he wanted. The more people who could see his face all at one time, the fewer performances he'd need to give, and the fewer times he'd need to reveal his face.

She turned away from him with a wave to reassure him that she'd noticed how they locked gazes. With all that had been happening lately, she needed time to be completely alone, away from the noise, eyes, and ears of the camp. There was a nearby river in which they all used at times to fetch water, bathe, or launder their clothes. Gypsies never bathed in still water, and were meticulous about keeping the different things they washed separate. A running river was the perfect remedy for such a problem when you wanted to soak yourself, and clean away the dirt of life.

Just thinking about how cold the water would be made her shiver and clutch the oversized bronze-orange shawl tighter about her shoulders. It was a heavy woolen thing her grandmother had made when she was still a girl, but it would give her plenty of warmth when she came out of that water.

The river was nearly three quarters of a mile from the camp, so she knew she would have plenty of privacy. When they'd first settled in, men had gone with a wagonload of giant barrels to acquire most of the water that would be needed for a time; for things like cooking or washing dishes and cookware. It was incredibly easy to tell when anyone headed in that direction… and Arabella had waited nearly an hour to be certain no one else was coming or going. She even walked diagonally towards the river so as to avoid anyone else taking a direct path later and coming upon her by accident.

The forest was quiet and peaceful, the sun a bright white-yellow glow overhead as it peeked through great gaping holes in a ceiling of clouds. The rain had not returned, but with very little wind the clouds had barely done more than begun breaking apart like thawing ice floes since the previous afternoon. Arabella found the soft rustling of fallen debris under her feet almost comforting, her eyes half-closing as she listened to the birds that twittered and squawked in all directions. It almost seemed like any other day… but she knew it was so much more than that. After Erik's emancipation, and their discussion in his tent… everything just seemed so much more than merely normal.

She was the closest to genuine happiness she'd experienced in a long time.

The river was wide and deep when she came to the embankment, running fast enough to make one careful should they wish to step into it… but not fast enough to simply sweep an adult away. It was also a very private space, as the embankment on the other side was a cliff at least twenty feet high, and the river curved here where her side was flanked by thick pine trees. It was actually very beautiful, and almost like being in a flooded room. Large flat stones created a jagged broken line that seemed to nearly dissect the water at its center. Given the width of the river here, she could imagine herself lying on the clear stones to dry after she bathed, for neither cliff nor trees to either side would block what sunlight showered the area.

Arabella merely stood there for a time, admiring the world she stood in, clutching the shawl in one hand. She was not looking forward to plunging herself in the cold flowing water. Sometimes, she wished gypsies actually dared to bathe in still waters, where it had a chance to be warmed by the sun's rays.

With an anticipatory whimper, Arabella approached the edge of the river and kicked off the slippers she'd worn to protect her feet from the forest floor. Her eyes scanned the sheltered area of river again, thinking of how it seemed so closed in, almost like a pit that she had no hope of climbing from. But the river came into the clearing… and it left the clearing… Surely would leave as well. She would not leave in the opposite direction, though. She would leave the way she came, unlike the river that was so much freer.

Dropping her shawl beside her slippers, her fingers lingered on the ties of her laced black vest. It would have been better to wait until after noon to come to the river, but she knew others were more likely to come out here and bathe themselves as their days ended. She didn't like to bathe around others, worried about what the other women would say if they saw her scars from years of abuse. She knew some of them just might try to help her… but what would her life become if her secrets were all out?

One shoulder slipped from the white peasant blouse she wore beneath the vest as she took a deep breath. The best way to bathe would simply be to remove her clothes and plunge in headfirst, submerging herself quickly so that the shock would be instantaneous and then gone. But she still didn't look forward to the damn cold river.

"So where is he?"
Her head jerked up so fast that the tendons shot pain up and down her entire body. Spots of blue-white color flashed before her eyes for a moment before they could focus on the form coming through the trees. She knew the voice immediately, but a different man's image flashed in her imagination hopefully, knowing instantly that as scandalous as either scenario was, only one was likely to have a reasonably harmless ending. But she'd grown up around that voice. There was no possible way she could have made a mistake.

Her heart slammed into her ribcage and her breath froze in her throat as Adnah looked suspiciously around. The sunshine overhead cast the shadows of branches across his face, which revealed a rage that she had never seen before, and she found herself instinctively stepping away from him – almost falling as her retreat brought her off the embankment and down into the not-quite frigid water. She hissed from the shock, but didn't regret creating distance between them as the current teased her calves.

He wore trousers, a white blousy shirt open halfway down, and a wide-open vest that he hadn't bothered to tie at all. He looked as though he'd followed her in the process of dressing himself, and decided not to bother with half of the correct fastenings. There were bags under his eyes nearly so dark that they looked like bruises and his eyes were bloodshot. He clearly hadn't slept well since the previous morning, and she was immediately concerned that he also might be drunk… but Adnah had never been much for heavy drinking.

When those red-lined eyes met hers, her entire being screamed at her to turn and run. But in her shock, all she could manage was to lift the side of the blouse that had fallen from her shoulder back into place. As cold as the water was on her legs, a tiny lump as hard as iron was forming just above her heart that was multitudes colder.

"Who?" she demanded quietly, taking another step back into the river so that the already ankle deep water swirled up to the tops of her calves. The hem of her skirt grew instantaneously heavy and tried to float away with the current, plastering itself to her leg. The moment the question left her lips, she winced inwardly, realizing she didn't need to be answering his questions. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be sneaking up on women who are trying to wash!"

He strode away from the trees, his toes reaching the edge of the bank as he planted his hands on his hips and glared down at her.

"Answer my question." He hissed. "Where is the freak?"

A shudder went through her of disgust and rage. Her jaw instantly set, lips pressing briefly into a line of displeasure as she jerked her chin up at him. For an instant, she was able to tamp down her fear in favor of self-righteousness.

"He isn't your concern anymore." She pointed out. "But, if you must know, he's back at the camp site. Surely you aren't so blind that you didn't see him performing as you left."

Her walk through the forest had been slow and leisurely, keeping her plunge into the cold water at bay. But she couldn't imagine even Adnah missing the sight of Erik up on his sage, performing in almost all his glory (he had told her once that he just might start using his knowledge on magic to earn greater fortunes – and that had been before the money was his for the having).

Adnah crouched down to be closer to eye level with her.

"He finished his song almost the moment you left camp." He told her. "Do you think I'm that stupid, Bella? You think I don't know what the two of you have been doing? All that time you spend with a gaje shimulo, and you think I'm blind? I see the way he looks at you… the way you look at him… the way you let him touch you!"

Arabella paled as he suddenly slid his feet from the embankment and sank his boots smoothly down into the water so that he was less than an arms' reach from her. His gaze never left hers, never blinked, as steady as the careful watch of a hunting predator. Arabella took two more steps back again, almost tripping when the river bed dropped out from under her to a depth that brought the water up to her thighs. Her arms flailed out to either side of her in an attempt to remain upright, the tip of her braid dipping into the river and then swinging up and splashing her.

Adnah's hands flashed out and seized her upper arms, yanking her close so that her feet scraped the harsh rocks beneath the water and kept her from going down. His grip was painful, certain to leave bruises, but his quick actions kept her from going down. Instead, he dragged her partially back out of the water until she was almost up against him, and his other hand came up to lock her other arm down to her side. She turned her head away from him, straining back as his breath fanned her face.

"Why him?" he demanded in a shout that hurt her ears.

Her eyes flashed angry fire up at Adnah as she tried to yank free of him, but the pain of the rocks under her feet made her unsteady. His grip was too tight, and he was trying to pull her even closer as he waited the mere seconds it took for an answer to fly from her throat.

"Why you; you gypsy pig?

He jerked back, releasing one of her arms so abruptly that for at least the fourth time in two minutes, she nearly stumbled into the water. This time, however, she was more than able to catch herself. It helped that Adnah hadn't released her other arm, and any fall would have resulted in her dangling from his grasp. She tried to wrench herself free, but didn't realize he wasn't letting go.

The blow slammed so hard into the side of her eye socket that pain flashed across her entire skull, and white light took over her entire sense of sight. A low, guttural sound escaped her, although an instinctive creature deep in her soul screamed to keep quiet… to not let Adnah know he'd hurt her. She'd learned over her fathers' years of abuse that crying out only meant more pain.

"You whore!" Adnah roared as he swam back into her vision. He was too close again, and Arabella leaned back. This time she didn't have the chance to lose her balance. His grip on her arm twisted, altering her direction and swinging her roughly towards the embankment behind him.

She stumbled as released her, and her calves sliced open due to the jagged rocks that made up the riverbank. She barely caught herself by the heels of her hand just as her knees hit the needle covered stone that made up the ground leading to the thick clump of pines blocking her view of the forest. Instantly her hands sought out for something, anything heavy enough to grab hold of and use as a weapon. Her instincts were screaming that she needed to be quiet and still, but she wasn't about to be cowed by another man. She'd sworn to herself that she would never let another man submit her to the horrors that her father had.

There was no time to get to her feet. Adnah had her by the back of the blouse and was throwing her to one side the moment one toe came out of the water and struggled for purchase on the embankment. Her shoulder hit the ground painfully, and in spite of her best efforts she couldn't help but cry out again; this one louder than the grunt his blow had inspired. He leaned over her, seizing her blouse by the wide collar and yanking it from her shoulder. The strap of her vest came with it, making it impossible to raise that arm in self-defense.

"Stop it!" she shrieked at him, more out of fury than fear. Her skin was crawling at even the tiniest of his touches, the cold iron ball in her chest spreading to every inch of her body. "Don't touch me! Don't you touch me!"

"Afraid your little freak doesn't want to share; are you?" Adnah hissed as he used his hold on her shirt to roll her completely onto her back.

Arabella drew her knees up towards her chest, intending to kick at him, but he was too fast. He simply placed his knees up on the embankment and leaned forward until his body pressed to her soaking wet calves, trapping her folded legs between them while he tried to reposition himself.

She used the arm he had partially trapped with her clothes to try and claw at his wrist, but her arm couldn't twist far enough. Only her thumb managed to graze him, and he didn't even blink in pain at the contact. Her other arm, just working its way out from beneath her, snatched out at Adnah, aiming for his face and scoring three jagged lines along his cheek, with one crossing his nose.

With a scream of pain and rage, Adnah grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from his now bloody cheek. His free hand drew back, making her flinch with full realization of what was coming but without the ability to protect her face. When it came down again in a fisted backhand, Arabella's entire body went limp and her vision went utterly black, all motor skill gone from the shock and pain. She struggled to find her limbs again, fingertips twitching and head rolling slightly as she felt his hands seizing the laces of her vest and yanking it loose from her blouse.

She could feel his hands running callously over her chest as she finally found her voice enough to moan, her hands limply lifting to impotently push at him again. He'd pulled her blouse down until it stretched painfully just beneath her chest. Her vision began returning, the sky overhead and the world around her jarringly out of focus. Only as Adnah's silhouette leaning over her came slowly into focus did she began squirming again in objection, her hands more forcefully trying to shove him up and away from her. Adnah growled, capturing her wrists and restraining them within one hand as the other began to grapple at her skirt and shove it up the length of her legs.

"No!" she bleated out in a guttural shout. She tried pressing her knees together, but he'd already found his way firmly between them while she was barely conscious. As much as she wanted to fight, she was so repulsed when his fingers brushed the flesh above one knee that her limbs contracted painfully and she let out a helpless sob. It was more than the fear and disgust, though. There was something else that reared up in her along with those feelings, though, that made her even more disgusted – only this time in her own body instead of Adnah.

Oh God! She thought desperately. Please! Don't let this be happening! Don't let me be- she was so disgusted with herself that she refused to think about the sensations spiraling through her in coherent words.

"Kek! Kek, kek, KEK!" Her voice rose into such a shriek that it hurt her own ears, making the entire inside of her head vibrate horribly.

Growling again, Adnah's hand lifted from the skin of her thigh and came forward like a cobra strike, pummeling a fist directly into her mouth so that her head rocked back and smacked into the stone beneath her. Again, the world went gray, but her hands continue to struggle this time. She could feel the blood from where her teeth had cut the inside of her lips trickling deeper into her mouth, and she began coughing spasmodically, spitting to relieve herself of the coppery liquid and a tooth that had come free on the right side of her mouth; which tumbled about on her tongue, threatening to fall into her windpipe. Her head turned to the side as she continued trying to expel it and the blood from threatening her airway.

Adnah had returned his hand to her leg and was greedily groping deeper beneath her bunching skirts when a roar came from what seemed overhead. His head snapped up at the intrusion, his face a snarl of rage at the interruption. Arabella's eyes rolled upward as her head followed suit, watching as a great brown and russet form burst out of the trees. Both she and Adnah instinctively shrunk away from it, but not fast enough.

Her eyes were just focusing on Erik's face when he reached them.

Beng: Devil

Kek: No