Alin- Romania
Elizabeth- Nyo England.
Tsvetan- Bulgaria
Andrei- Moldova
…
Second chapter! This chapter was actually finished quicker than expected so well done me, but then again, it is three thirty in the morning here. Given that I have an extremely busy day tomorrow, I've come to the conclusion that I'm a fucking idiot. Well done me indeed. I have to march for two hours and everything. Help!
This one's more Romania-centric, so will contain a bit of robul, along with aushun and the tiniest mentions of fruk.
I'm actually pretty proud of how this chapter turned out, to be honest.
Hope you all like this chapter too! And please say if you do.
...
She spoke in a sharp, but kindly voice.
Alin looked up with exhausted, haunted eyes, noticing a young woman who was busying herself with handing out cups of tea standing over him, and nodded shakily as a steaming cup was passed into his hands, blue and stiff. He tried to thank her, but no words came out. She wouldn't have understood him anyway; the lady clearly wasn't Romanian. Her accent seemed English, actually.
He was sat huddled in the corner of a crowded corridor, blanket draped over his shoulders as he watched the nearby commotion like a hawk, and hadn't moved in the hour since he himself had climbed onto the ship. He saw every passenger that climbed up the rope ladder through the doors open at the side of the ship, heart stopping at every child brought up in a mail bag. But none of them were the two people he was looking for.
The young woman spoke more and knelt down next to him, rubbing his shoulder and he gave a weak smile, not understanding what she was saying but finding comfort in the soothing tone of her voice. She tried to pull him up, but Alin shook his head vigorously. He couldn't move! Not until the last boat had been emptied. Not until his last hope had been squashed.
But how could he explain that?
"My family," he finally choked out in his own language, pulling his hand out of the lady's grasp; "I need to find my family."
The words themselves were unknown to this lady, but she seemed to get the general idea. She spoke again as she nodded, and Alin thought he caught her name: Elizabeth Bonnefoy. Elizabeth, huh? Another name was mentioned, someone called Francis.
Alin blinked, tilting his head slightly. Elizabeth sighed. She said something else, gave another smile, and walked away.
Alin watched her go, and wished he could call her back and ask her to stay with him while he waited. Ask her to hold his hand. Ask her to let him cry on her shoulder.
Not that they'd be able to communicate, and she was probably busy helping other people too. Besides, he needed to focus on finding his family.
With that thought in mind, he turned back to his so-far-fruitless vigil.
…
9th April, 1912
…
The two lovers danced wildly, neither having a clue what to do and just going with what felt right. Alin span Tsvetan, almost knocking him into the wall when the other man nearly tripped over his own feet, laughing heartily as he twirled. Their boots clattered over the wooden floor of their room, unheard by the people drinking noisily downstairs. Out in the street, a lively band played on the pavement outside the tavern, their sounds floating though the open window and inspiring the couple's sloppy dancing.
"Woah, careful there!" Tsvetan yelped as Alin dipped him.
"Sorry," he lied, "I got a bit carried away there."
"I can tell," his partner replied weakly before he was pulled back up, staggering slightly as Alin took hold of his hands once more, leading him around the room, accidentally stepping on the other's toes more than a few times. Alin's long, lanky limbs moved awkwardly, struggling to keep up with the slightly taller man. Tsvetan just laughed.
"Shush!" cried a tiny voice from the bed. The couple halted, turning to the toddler kneeling in front of the open window and glaring at them crossly.
"Aw Andrei, is your big brother being embarrassing again?" Tsvetan joked.
"Hey!"
"No, you're disturbing the boats!" Andrei turned back to the window, resting his arms on the wooden sill and gazing dreamily at the bay in the distance, where hulking ships, tenders, sailboats and fishing trawlers sailed in and out of Cherbourg.
"Oh we are, are we?" Alin raised an eyebrow, sitting on the bed next to his brother and ruffling his hair.
"Yes," he growled, sitting up to see the boats better. "Which one is ours?"
"Well," began Tsvetan, joining them, "our ship is still in England."
"England?"
"Yes," Tsvetan pointed out past the bay, "it's on the other side of that water. Far away. Well, not as far as America."
"Wow Uncle Tsvet! You're so smart!" Andrei stood up to try and see England.
"I'm not that smart," Tsvetan laughed; "in fact, I can be a bit of an idiot sometimes."
"I've noticed," Alin spoke up slyly, placing a quick kiss on his partner's cheek; "is that why you fell for me?"
"Possibly."
"I can't believe it though," Alin began breathlessly, also staring out of the window, "we're starting our new life tomorrow! I've never been on a ship before, and now suddenly I'm going on the biggest one in the world with the two people I love."
"Things certainly seem to be looking up for us," Tsvetan agreed.
"What's America like?" Andrei asked, turning round and snuggling up to Alin.
"Don't know," his brother replied, "big, I guess. Modern too, hopefully. But the important thing is that there's lots of work there!"
"Work?"
"Yes! To get more money and have a better life," Alin pulled Andrei onto his lap hugging the three year old tightly, "then you can be whatever you want to be. It wouldn't matter there."
"I want to be a boat!"
Tsvetan smothered a giggle, and Alin just sighed.
"Whatever you want to be…"
…
"It's beautiful," Roderich whispered for the fifth time as he stared at the raggle-taggle band sat in the street, playing on old, second-hand instruments to the crowd gathered outside the tavern. Some couples even danced in the empty road, and Roderich swore he could see more people dancing in one of the second-storey windows above the tavern. Next to him, Érzsebét nodded, placing her hand on his and leaning closer.
The couple were sat on the curb in the fading, evening light, taking in the joyful atmosphere in peaceful silence. Franz was curled up asleep in his mother's lap, sucking his thumb and exhausted from a day spent exploring the bay with Érzsebét. He'd been fascinated by the many different shapes and colours of the boats, watching in awe as sails were raised and steam puffed out of funnels. Franz tugged at Érzsebét's trousers in excitement at seeing his first cruise liner- a hulking grey monster sat in the docks- and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets upon hearing that their own ship would be even bigger, so big, in fact, that it couldn't even fit in the docks and the passengers would have to be brought to it in two tenders.
Érzsebét was wearing a dress now, a homemade, olive green affair that fitted poorly, but she still loved it, especially the flowers embroidered into the skirt and bodice. She didn't know why, but she felt like dressing as a woman for their last night in Europe. Tomorrow, Érzsebét would be back in her waistcoat and trousers, but for now all she wanted was to sit with Roderich as husband and wife, not hiding behind disguises.
"Have you honestly never heard music before?" she asked.
"I did as a child, and loved folk dances, but it seems I've forgotten the effect music has on me." He stared tearfully at the instruments; "I would love to play for myself." Such an opportunity was far out of Roderich's reach, but the wistful look on his face told Érzsebét not to kill his dreams with reality.
"Maybe in America, you can," she suggested.
"Maybe," he gave a small smile, "or at least be able to listen to all the different kinds of music they have there."
"If I'd have known it would have such an effect on you, I would have sung more for you back home."
"But you hate singing," Roderich frowned.
"Wouldn't have stopped me from trying." Érzsebét rested her head on Roderich's shoulder, snaking an arm around his waist to keep him upright. Even he had dressed up for the occasion, wearing some of Érzsebét's clothes under his coat, which he would also be wearing the next day as they boarded the Titanic.
"Thank you," Roderich whispered, starting to hum along to the music. One of the onlookers spotted them, waving cheerily and jogging over.
"Join us, you two!" he called, "come and dance with us!"
Over the few weeks they'd been travelling across France, the couple had picked up enough French to get by, so Érzsebét felt confident in declining his request, no matter how much she knew Roderich would've wanted to.
"Our child is tired and so are we," she stated; "we want to just sit."
"Of course, miss," the stranger nodded, running to join his friends.
After a moment's silence, Roderich spoke up again.
"I don't want you to go to America as my cousin Boldizsár," he began, "I want you to go as my wife, Érzsebét."
"How come?" Érzsebét looked at him curiously.
"Well, at least then we can be openly affectionate, and I can proudly say I am married to you, which is something I've always wanted to do, I must confess."
"Yes it would be nice, in that sense."
"Plus, they give you health checks at immigration," Roderich continued, "so you might be found out, and turned away. And even if you got away with it, you'd have to be a man for the rest of your life, because it would say so on all your papers."
"What if it's like home, and I can only get a job as a man?"
"I don't think it would be that way," Roderich frowned in thought, "New York is a big city, yes? There will be a wider selection of jobs to choose from."
"It would be easier to explain," Érzsebét admitted, "than why I'm living with another man and not out with girls. And we can both say we're Franz's parents;" she chuckled, "fine, I'll be a woman again! I quite miss it, actually."
Across the street, the band began packing their instruments, and the couple took it as a sign to head back to their lodgings, the sun long having set. Érzsebét wrapped Roderich's arm around her shoulder, hoisting him up with one arm whilst holding Franz in the other. Roderich gingerly took a step forward, though it made little difference. Had Érzsebét not been holding him, his legs would've collapsed under him.
"So, Mr Edelstein," she began; "are you excited about tomorrow?"
"With all my being."
…
The following evening
…
"Don't go too close to the edge," Alin warned as Andrei slipped through people's legs and wandered over to the railings, peering out in the evening gloom at the ship in the distance. The child's mouth formed an 'o' shape as he stared in awe at the Titanic's monstrous form, thousands of lights twinkling over the sea, and Andrei thought the sight was absolutely magical.
"He's fine," Tsvetan told him, watching as Andrei wrapped his tiny fingers around the metal bars, jumping up and down excitedly. "In fact," he added, stepping forward, "I might just join him."
Alin shrugged, deciding to follow his partner and brother.
…
Now it was the turn of Lifeboat 12 to be relieved of her passengers. Alin clutched the sides of his blankets, not daring to breathe as the first sorry figure climbed aboard.
Not Tsvetan.
They weren't even using the mailbag for this boat. But there was still at least two children unaccounted for! Maybe they were waiting until the boat was emptier before using it. More and more men climbed the ladder, a mixture of passengers and crew, all frozen and haunted and not saying a word. Time and time again, Alin felt his hopes rise only to be dashed by an unfamiliar face.
Until…
"It can't be," Alin narrowed his eyes as a familiar mop of brown hair fell onto the deck, one of the last to climb onto the rescue ship. The figure was soon wrapped in a blanket, ignoring all other offers of help, just kneeling slumped on the floor.
Alin found himself standing slowly and shakily, heart pounding as he walked towards them and pushed through the crowd.
"You!" he cried, shaking his head in horror before pulling the figure into a tight hug. "Of all people to survive, it had to be you!" Nevertheless, he held Érzsebét close, sobbing onto her shoulder, though he was certain that was simply from his own grief.
They were gone. There was no doubt about it now. Tsvetan and Andrei hadn't made it, and he'd never see them again. The realisation, after hours of denial, was like a rope wrapped around his torso, pulled ever tighter until it threatened to crush him completely. He couldn't handle it. This wasn't how things were supposed to be! They were supposed to start a new life together and be happy!
"Well there's no need to look so sad to see me," Érzsebét grabbed his shoulders, pulling him away, "though I'm not too pleased at yours being the first face I find on here." She pulled herself up, glaring down at him. "What about the others? Where are they?"
"Gone," Alin whispered, still sobbing on the floor.
"Oh don't talk such nonsense," Érzsebét snapped as she scanned the crowds for her husband and child; "they've got to be here somewhere."
"They're not," Alin stood up, grabbing her sleeve; "I've been watching the lifeboats ever since I got here and neither my family nor yours were among the rescued."
"And how long have you been here?" Érzsebét shot him a glare, yanking her sleeve away and pretending to wipe dirt off the spot Alin touched.
"An hour or so."
"Then you wouldn't have seen everyone, right?"
"But they'd have been here," Alin pressed; "they'd be waiting for us!"
"Maybe they needed urgent medical attention and were taken inside. I know Roderich would, and Franz is so small. They would need to see a doctor right away! Your little boy would too."
"Tsvetan would wait for me," Alin muttered, "he'd be right here waiting."
"Then they're still in the lifeboats," Érzsebét waved her arms above her head, storming over to the side of the ship; "we'll just have to wait for the other passengers to come aboard."
"Érzi," Alin began softly, the kindness and downright pity in his voice catching the other off-guard; "you do know your boat was the last to be emptied, right? There are no more lifeboats. Face it, they're gone."
...
Ooh, aren't I bad?
It was really fun combining the happy, family elements with the crushing sadness; made the sadness even worse to read, am I right?