It seemed like hours had passed. Certainly the house had become brighter as dawn approached and then passed. Erik didn't know or care just how much time had passed - except that it served to torment him. Several times he'd managed to climb to his feet during the wait; twice vehemently spitting out words of impatience and anger. Eva had managed to keep him from venturing into the main areas of the house and destroying every piece of property therein; simply by trying to remain soothing. She did this even though it was clear several times that his short outbursts of helpless rage frightened her. Eventually all he could do was sink back onto the floor and allow his limbs a rest as the muscles all over him began to ache fiercely from his activities that night.
He was exhausted, his body so full of pain; so that he could barely even lift himself from where he'd sunk onto the floor. Eva had joined him after a while, although she brought a small chair in from the kitchen instead of lowering herself to the wooden slats that were slowly numbing his backside.
She'd tried to show further kindness, offering him food, drink, and conversation… but Erik had been unable to appreciate the efforts. The very thought of food - or even water - turned his stomach. His stress was not going to let any nourishment sit easy. He kept refusing her as politely as possible, constantly turning his head so that his ear pressed to the door of the crude operating room. Everyone in there had been murmuring – even the woman that must be Eva's mother-in-law. The whole family had stayed together to help save Arabella's life.
They'd left Eva out in the hallway with him without a single thought as to what kind of danger she might be in - just to save his beloved. Perhaps a part of all their murmuring had been to decide over Eva's predicament - being on the same side of the door that he was. But they had no real way of knowing that she'd chosen to stay right by him. Any time she spoke, her voice was so soft he himself barely heard it. Maybe they assumed she'd locked herself safely behind another door in the house.
"Why did she do it?" Eva asked abruptly.
Erik's eyes jerked briefly in her direction, distracted by the prolonged quiet that had recently overtaken the room behind him. He knew that implieed only one of two things; and his heart was hammering in fear of one of those outcomes.
"What?"
"You said she did that to herself." Eva reminded him. "Why would any woman do such a thing?"
"Maybe it was because she was scared and with child?" Erik suggested dryly. At her patient staring, he sighed heavily. Clearly, she wasn't intimidated by his sarcasm. "She didn't want the baby; or for me to take responsibility for her predicament."
"So… you aren't the father?"
He bristled at the tone in Eva's voice. His eyes flashed at her as he sat up straighter and shifted from one uncomfortably numb butt cheek to the other and then back onto both. He didn't like the sudden judgement in her eyes, even though it wasn't particularly severe. It was just that the look reminded him of so many his mother had given through the course of his life.
"She's not a trollop." He hissed at her dangerously. He was ashamed when she paled, although he still respected how she held her ground. "She didn't ask to have this done to her."
"Oh…" Eva offered, as though she could actually understand what he meant. But he'd been eyeing her throughout all his distraction. She was a naïve housewife with only enough education to make herself useful to her husband. She wasn't particularly knowledgeable about the unpleasantness of the outside world. It's why he affected her so strongly when he became angry; even if she had enough courag to withstand her fear. Surely she had an idea about rape; although he still suspected she might only have premarital affairs in mind.
He realized with a silent inner snort of derision just how unfair his own judgement of her was.
Footsteps approached the door; and in spite of his feet and legs being mostly asleep, Erik was able to gain his footing with remarkable alacrity. He ignored the pins and needles that shot up and down his limbs as he turned to watch the door open. Wordlessly he was passed by the older woman and her two younger boys. Only the youngest of the family really gave Erik a distinct look; one that was filled with indignant anger over the way he'd been so roughly treated earlier.
Erik ignored him.
As Eva's husband followed the group into the hallway, he halted at the sight of Erik and Eva standing nearly side by side. It was as if he'd entirely forgotten his wife even existed until that moment. Then, as the doctor stepped into the doorway, his son quickly pulled Eva into one arm and walked her off along the hall after the rest of his family. Eva glanced over her shoulder at Erik, giving him no doubt what she considered to be a reasurring but tentative smile.
The doctor stood there a long moment, waiting until he was certain they were alone as he eyed Erik uneasily.
"Is she…" Erik tried to clear his throat, but it felt dry and coarse as sandpaper. Terror clouded his normally lucid thoughts. "Arabella?" he finally finished pathetically.
"What's your name, boy?" the doctor asked without unkindness.
"E-Erik…"
God… he sounded like a five-year-old boy all over again. Anxiously he strained his neck, trying to see around the old man to catch sight of Arabella.
"Erik what?" the old man demanded.
"I don't have a last name." Erik replied honestly; voice burning with bitterness. "I never heard it spoken, nor saw it written. No one told me. Please, Signor. Is she all right? Will she be all right?"
Sighing, the doctor shook his head and leaned against the door frame to his office. He brought one hand up to rub wearily at his temples as though his head were pounding. Erik's heart stopped completely for a second before thundering back into a full gallop. He felt a scream building in him, but then the doctor lowered his hand and gave Erik a tired little smile.
"She'll survive…" he finally admitted.
Erik slumped against the wall once more; nearly sinking back to the floor in sheer relief. He thought tears were going to start coursing down his cheeks, but they didn't so much as form.
"I need to see her." He stated shakily. "Please… can I see her?"
The doctor eyed him for a long moment, clearly trying to decide something about the masked boy before him. Erik refused to finch from the direct brown-eyed gaze. Any squirming would indicate he wasn't trustworthy, and he was in desperate need to see Arabella. He had to touch the warmth of her skin, and feel the beat of her pulse beneath his fingers.
"My son, Antonio, tells me that you called the girl your wife." The doctor stated. "Is she?"
Erik swallowed thickly, frustrated by this stalling tactic but unwilling to risk being thrown out of the house entirely.
"No…" he admitted softly. "I hadn't meant to say that at all. I just… I asked her to marry me… but she hasn't answered me yet. I just... I feel like we're... I love her that much, Signor."
"I think using a knife on the unborn child might have been answer enough." The doctor noted.
Erik bristled, but he was much too tired for a fight; too aware that his actions could leave Arabella here alone. Closing his eyes wearily, he shook his head.
"It's not what you're thinking." He insisted softly. "She was trying to keep me from taking responsibility for someone else's much viler actions."
The old man seemed to consider this for a long moment, and then slowly stepped out of the doorway.
"I know you didn't hurt her." he stated quietly. "The way she cried for you - although I didn't know your name at the tie - clearly shows she isn't afraid of you. You didn't do this to her."
Erik immediately pushed himself away from the wall and rushed into the room. There were grotesquely bloody instruments and bandages surrounding the work bench of an operating table; but Erik ignored them all. The only thing he cared about was the girl lying before him with her eyes shut.
He stepped right up to Arabella's side and took one of her hands between both of his, lifting it up to brush his lips over each of the finger tips and knuckles before turning it to kiss her palm repeatedly. Even in her palm he could feel the flutter of her pulse.
Arabella's eyes opened blearily, and her head turned slightly as she took in the sight of him.
He forced a weak smile for her.
"Mira kom." He greeted. "Don't you ever scare me like that again."
What have I done?
She stared up into Erik's fake smile, seeing the pain in his eyes and feeling how his hands actually shook around hers. The doctor had given her something to calm her and all but make her sleep during his crude operation. Pinning her down while she continued to suffer such severe blood loss had gotten exhausting for the entire group, and she'd only been getting in their way as the doctor did his best to save her. It felt as though she'd never be strong enough to stand again.
Everything seemed so far away and unimportant; but that didn't mean she was oblivious to what had been going on all this time. She could still think; but it was as though her thoughts were wisps of intangible smoke. It took every ounce of concentration to grasp them and follow even a single thread of cohesive thought. The only tangible ones in her mind were purely instinctive and wordless; more emotion than thought.
His voice nearly broke when he spoke, making his agony much too real. He probably thought he was doing a marvelous job of pretending he wasn't still furious with her – or that he wasn't still terrified and exhausted - due to what she'd done. But she knew him much too well. There was a feverish light in his eyes that hinted slightly of danger and desperation. He was nearly as hysterical as she'd been before stabbing herself with that knife – only his hysteria was far quieter; much stiller.
Erik's stillness was infinitely more dangerous; but it didn't frighten her. She only wondered how long i would be before he realized how angry he still was. She wondered what - or who - he would take it out on... or if this was the kind of rage that could wan on its own.
What have I done to him?
"Erik…" she breathed, surprised at just how weak her voice sounded. She offered one of his cradling hands a squeeze. She was rather amazed with her bravery; holding his hand and welcoming him when anger had only terrified her in the past. She hadn't seen Erik angry at her before - not really; so what reason did she have to feel so safe in the face of whatever judgement was to come? She already knew most of his angry judgements were carried out with swift violent outbursts.
The anger wasn't in the forefront of his gaze, though. It was like a small child peeking through a crowd of adults. She could only catch glimpses of it; although its' presence was just as obvious as his physical presence in the room. what stood surrounding that anger was what put her at ease - the relief, tenderness, and love she knew so much better even when it made no sense at all to her.
"I'm here." He soothed, reaching out with one hand to smooth her hair out of her face. "The doctor says you're going to be all right."
Of course; he's not worried about the baby. She thought distantly to herself; not even bothering to bring up the topic herself. She would know in time just how successful her efforts had been. Mentioning it might bring that anger out into the open; and although she wasn't afraid, she wasn't ready for that to happen. Why would he be? That would be ridiculous…
Honesty, she almost hoped – almost – that she'd failed. After all that pain, she was hoping she could take it all back.
She hadn't been thinking things through that night. She hadn't been thinking about exactly what it would do to Erik to take away his hope at a proper family. She hadn't been able to think about anything good coming from her pregnancy. Only as she felt the terrible spasms clenching her stomach - and the blood on her thighs - had she even considered the concepts Erik had introduced in the forest.
He hadn't been asking if she wanted a family of her own. He'd been asking if she loved him enough to have any kind of family with him.
The mental image of Erik sitting on the edge of his stage and teaching some faceless child how to play his violin startled her. She clung to it for a minute, trying to give her brain enough time to accustom itself to such an idea. After a moment, the vision allowed just the slightest hopeful trickle of warmth to spread through her. It wasn't enough to really make her hope beyond hope that her attempts to terminate her condition had failed... but she could see a glimmer of light beyond the despair of possibly having failed.
She wouldn't be sorry if the baby was gone. But she'd regret it forever if losing her child left Erik in pain worse than if she'd just resolved to carry it.
"I'm so sorry." She whispered. "Erik… I'm so sorry…"
"Shh…" he crooned. "Just relax… be calm… be still… I'm not going anywhere. Don't be sorry. Just rest… I'll get you home as soon as the doctor tells me it's all right."
Her drugged mind released the concept of her child altogether and floated in new directions.
"What about bunica?" she worried, voicing the concern before it could be overtaken by other random thoughts. "Does she know I'm all right?"
She saw the guilt in Erik's eyes and sighed, slowly closing her eyes.
"Do you want me to go find her?" he asked gently. "I had to leave her behind. I don't know if she's been looking around the town for me, or if she stayed at the campsite… but I can bring her here."
Arabella shook her head weakly.
"No… don't leave me. She'll see me when you take me home…"
She was astonished when he again began kissing her hand. He'd never done something so blatantly and physically affectionate. The fact that he'd touch his lips to her skin after everything she'd done and endured reached her in a way no empty words ever could have. She forced her heavy eyelids back open a crack, and looked up at him once more to examine him.
All she could really see were his eyes… and they were glazed as though tears threatened. But he wasn't crying – she knew that. Erik wasn't the type of man who cried easily. Had she died, he might not have even been able to mourn her with tears.
Maybe he wasn't still as angry as she had thought.
"I'm sorry." She breathed again. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you…"
Erik shook his head, rubbing one thumb over her knuckles in a caress that sent tiny bolts of electricity up her hand.
When did his touch go from being detached but comforting… to feeling so nice... so near to intimate?
"You had no reason to." He admitted. "No one has ever given you reason to believe in them."
She shook her head slightly, drawing his gaze back to hers from where it stared slightly over her and into the middle-distance.
"I thought you were just as desperate as I was." She sighed.
"I am desperate." Erik chuckled slightly. "Every single time you look at me, I wonder just how much I can trust what you're showing me."
Her mouth opened instantly to vow he could trust her, but he placed a finger over her lips before she could speak.
"Listen." He pressed. "My doubts aren't your fault… so I suppose that means your doubts aren't entirely mine. But how you feel for me doesn't change how I feel for you. Desperation isn't the same as love."
Swallowing thickly – a painful experience given the dryness of her throat – she nodded briefly.
"How can I prove myself to you?" he demanded; his voice still gentle but also still threatening to break. "Tell me what to do."
She could think of nothing to say. Again she shook her head, squeezing his hand as she fought for some way to reassure him that she would learn to trust his feelings and decisions… although she wasn't entirely certain she'd be telling the truth. How were you supposed to learn to believe in your own self-worth when life has done nothing but make you feel filthy and worthless?
He waited patiently for several minutes, and then returned to smoothing back her hair with the hand that had pressed its' finger to her lips.
He had never touched her with so firm a hand before. His caution had faded... and she did nothing whatsoever to scold him. It was just as pleasant as the ghost of his previous affections.
"I still want you to be my wife." He confessed. "Bella… No matter how frightened you were… no matter how much you doubt me… all I want is to marry and love you."
In spite of the pain slowly growing in her stomach – the medicine the doctor had given her apparently wearing off – she managed a shaky smile.
"What did I do right?" she demanded; wishing her voice didn't sound so hazy and distracted.
Erik laughed then, rocking back slightly on his heels.
"The only thing you could have done." He told her, without any further explanation. In spite of her curious gaze, he spoke no more on the matter, and simply stood quietly with her while they awaited the doctors' return.
It was some time later when the man did come back into the room; followed closely by his eldest son; presumably Antonio. He was no longer wearing his dressing gown, but was dressed quite smartly in clothes that spoke of expensive but not lavish taste. His hair had been properly combed, his body washed, and he seemed at least fifteen years younger in such a dapper state.
"How are you feeling?" he asked Arabella, approaching the table to stand just opposite Erik.
"Sore…" Arabella admitted with a little groan.
"I'm not at all surprised." The doctor chuckled. "Now… Is your foolishness done? Or should I suggest your gentleman friend bring you to a place where you cannot do yourself further harm?"
Arabella stared at him, wishing she could fully understand his implications. She knew nothing of the type of place he was speaking of, so had no idea how to answer. She did manage, however, to understand he was making a light and badly concealed threat.
"She can't leave her tribe." Erik offered after a moment of uneasy quiet. "I'll watch over her."
The doctor eyed Erik doubtfully; but not without humor.
"More thoroughly than you did last night, I hope."
"Don't." Arabella pleaded before he could respond. "It wasn't his fault. He tried to stop me… It isn't his fault."
The doctor smiled down at her, although there was tightness to his mouth as he did so.
"All right." He soothed, then looked at Erik much more firmly. "I'm going to give you some medication to help with the pain."
"Wait…" Arabella reached up; almost touching the doctors' hand but stopped just shy of his skin. "What about the baby?"
She felt Erik's grip on her hand tighten, but she returned the pressure reassuringly. She realized she just needed to know. She couldn't return home awaiting the next step without knowing what it was going to be.
"You haven't had a miscarriage." The doctor admitted immediately. "There was bleeding, and your distress caused much further discomfort… but you're still with child. Now… that doesn't mean you won't lose the baby – it could be that your blood loss is a trauma it won't recover from. Please be careful. If your body has trouble healing, it might dispense of the baby so it has less to worry itself over."
She nodded obediently and turned her eyes back to Erik, who was staring down at her heavily bandaged stomach with wary hope. It stung her that even after how clearly she'd wanted to be rid of the child; he still harbored hope of keeping it in their lives. She supposed she couldn't begrudge him that hope… It was – as he'd said the previous evening – probably the only chance he would ever have at fatherhood.
She felt she'd taken that into consideration the night before. She wished she didn't have the ability to be stung by his hope when she'd already realized her mitake minutes earlier.
She hadn't, after all, aired her own relief. She wasn't going to, either. Until the day she gave birth to a healthy baby and held it in her arms, she wasn't going to show any affection to the thought of being a mother at all. No matter what joy it might bring Erik to see her as a loving mother, she still wasn't convinced she wanted that for herself… not with this child at least.
"We'll be careful. But I don't want your medicine. My grandmother can make me something for pain." She promised. "Erik…"
He lifted his eyes to her once more questioningly.
"I want to go hom
"Of course you do." The doctor agreed with a gentler smile. "But you lost a lot of blood, child. You aren't going anywhere just yet. Once you've rested for a few hours, I think it will be much safer."
She began to shake her head, but Erik placed a hand gently against her hair to soothe her.
"We'll be home together by sunset." He promised. "Just listen to the good doctor; and I'll come back very soon to sit with you."
"What?" She tried to sit up; but Erik instantly placed a hand on her shoulder and pressed her back. "Where are you going?"
"The doctor deserves a little recompense for his professional services." Erik explained. "Don't you think?"
"…Oh…"
She glanced sheepishly at the doctor, smiling awkwardly.
"It's all right." The doctor objected. "You don't have to do that, boy. It can wait."
"For all I know, the gypsies will decide to leave the moment we return." Erik stated. "I wouldn't want to leave owing someone their rightful due."
"If you insist."
The doctor shrugged.
"Why don't you carry her up to my sons' room? One of them will lend his bed for a few hours rest."
Erik tightened so much that Arabella immediately thought of a coiled spring. Even she tensed, but her hand on his wrist tightened to keep him from lashing out on sheer impulse.
"I don't suppose someone could sit with me while Erik's gone?" she asked the doctor as calmly as she could. "Perhaps your wife?"
Erik eased slightly at her suggestion, and they both waited for the doctor to answer. She was a little amazed by how closely their thoughts and emotions coincided. He'd thought only of her fear of being at the mercy of strange men; in spite of their best intentions. She'd simultaneously known that he would instantly be on edge to protect her from feeling so vulnerable.
"Of course." The old man replied confidently. "No one in your condition should be left alone. I'm sure Maria or Eva will be happy to sit and keep you company… although I hope you'll be sleeping most of the time."
He strode out of the room as though to prepare for Arabella's transfer, and Erik looked down at her earnestly.
"Will you be all right?" he asked worriedly. "For a moment there I wasn't even thinking-"
"It's all right." She interrupted, her body shifting slightly in discomfort that was fast becoming pain. "Go get the payment for the doctor. I'll be fine…"
"Good. I'll let your grandmother know how you're doing while I'm gone." He leaned down and kissed her hair – startling her with his gentle boldness even as his lips moved to just beside her ear. His most blatant affection was going to take time to grow accustomed to. "If they don't take good care of you, I might have to kill everyone in the house."
"Erik." Arabella rolled her eyes, relieved at his dark chuckle as he pulled back to meet her stare.
"Bella…" He took both her hands in his again; mood shifting so suddenly that it was palpable. "This isn't pretty talk anymore. I love you. I want to marry you… please… Will you become my wife?"
Blinking rapidly, Arabella tried to figure out – exactly – why on Earth Erik would still want to bind himself to such a wreck of a woman. His chosen moment to finally outright propose also struck her as peculiar, but she supposed he had every right to take this chance - given her recent escapades. Still; nothing at all came to mind except for his desperation for love and companionship. She scolded herself for not being able to think of a clearer reason. He himself had told her that desperation wasn't good enough an excuse for anything.
Those weren't good enough reasons anymore… not for Erik.
She hadn't been thinking clearly the night before. Now she felt much more lucid, in spite of her pain and continued worry over the state of her body. Erik meant it when he said he loved her – although God only knew he must be totally insane to feel that way.
The pain was returning to her body, but the drug the doctor had given her was still affecting her mind. She could barely keep her thoughts in the proper order! She struggled for another minute to think over their entire conversation so far; just be be certain her response was warranted and made sense.
"Maybe we should wait until we know for certain about the baby." She suggested.
"I'm not waiting for an answer." He stated firmly. "I don't care what happens, Bella. You'll need someone there for you either way things turn out. Let me be that someone. I want an answer before I go anywhere."
She continued staring up at him for a long moment… so long in fact that the doctor had returned before she could force her mouth to form the answer. She hadn't expected to be given an ultimatum. The confusion it caused her emotions made thinking more dmnably diffcult.
"Ready?" the doctor asked Erik.
He immediately scooped Arabella up into his arms, although she heard his almost entirely muffled grunt of pain… and began almost clumsily walking her through the house.
She was distracted again then by her first real sight of the inside of a home.
Erik had come from a place at least vaguely like this. It was the world that he'd been raised in, and the comfort he'd been used to before running away. She wondered why he ever would have decided to leave it; in spite of the things that had driven him away (which he'd never gone into). It seemed to imply warmth and safety and love in its' very existence.
It was the first time she ever felt a real pull to the gaje blood in her background; although she very much doubted Yaakov had grown up in anything more than a hovel.
This was probably the type of place Erik really wanted to spend the rest of his life. He probably really wanted a house with upholstered chairs, high-mattress beds, and possibly some indoor plumbing. He likely dreamed of sitting before a contained fireplace with a mantle cluttered with souvenirs from his life.
As Erik lay her on the most comfortable bed she had ever dreamed could exist, she instantly fell in love with the idea of learning how to be what Erik had probably grown up dreaming a wife would be like. He was tucking her firmly beneath the bedcovers when she caught his hands under hers, and drew his eye one last time to hers. She could never be what Erik had fantasized about growing up;; but she could try.
"All right." She whispered, vaguely nervous by the entrance of a youngish woman she didn't quite recognize; as well as the doctor standing patiently in one corner waiting his turn to re-examine her. "I will marry you."
His eyes lit up as though the sun had suddenly risen behind them, and she felt for the very first time as though the gold warmth in his eyes were melting right into her bloodstream and spreading his silent joy. If he was, indeed, still harboring any hidden anger over her previous nights' actions; her words seemed to have eliminated it.
He returned his lips to her temple, turning his hands upside down beneath hers to squeeze them tight.
"Wonderful." He whispered back. "That means I will be just a little longer coming back to you than I anticipated… but I promise when you wake up again I'll be here."
Like a gallant knight, he lifted her hand within his own and boldly kissed the back of her hand; ignoring decorum and his normal timidity in order to let her feel the surprising warmth of his brushing lips. Again she felt those tiny and strange sparks shoot up her hand into her wrist. At least his new boldness was affecting her pleasantly.
"Shall I sing you to sleep?"