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~ Ğяǝÿsɯıʇɥ }} ḋεṿïαи¢ε υиḋεɾ τhε вïģ τøρ {{ ₮ɐℓıи ~

Dmitry rose from the bed, leaning over it to return a few more of her small kisses, giving her a nod. “I also wish I didn’t have to go… Trust me, I could lie here in bed with you until time ceased to pass.” He stroked a hand over her hair, it was messy and tangled, but he smiled despite this, even at her worst, she was the loveliest creature her had ever had the pleasure of encountering. “I will return with the wash basin when I’m done with my work, so it will be available to you tomorrow.” With another small smile he stood, preparing himself for the outside world and with a quick smile disappeared out of the tent.

The area outside of the tent was quite a bustle, many men and women going about their business, readying their costumes, practicing their acts. He had a bit of a trek ahead of him, journeying away from the living areas and closer to the river that they had set up near, almost an hours walk. He had brought most of the weight lifting equipment there, so that he could train in private. He shared this equipment with the other men, lion tamers and the like, but generally he had the place to himself, silent and calming, with only the sound of the river and nature around him.

He reached the area after a while, and without further procrastination, delved straight into his regular routine, which consisted of massive weight training, sprints, timed rope training and other such distractions from thinking about Pavla. But still, each time he took a break, she entered his mind, as if the lovely image of her visage was painted on the inside of his retina.

Evening came quickly, and he was losing daylight when he heard a rustle in the grass. Dropping the heavy barbell at his feet it hit with a thud, picking up the lantern he had nearby and lighting it, so that he could see into the distance. The figure of a man finally became visible, and not to Dmitry’s liking. Victor, the best lion tamer at their circus sometimes shared this area with him, and he often spoke about his conquests as if Dmitry cared even in the slightest, but truthfully, he felt a great jealousy for this man. He was handsome, strong and confident, all things that Dmitry felt as though he lacked.

“Hello old friend!” Victor called to him with a wave. Victor had also defected from Europe, but he from Germany. And with that came the obvious German physicality, pale blue eyes and starkly blonde hair, strong, sharp features and pale skin tone. He was also a rather large man, nothing like Dmitry, he was… normal. Something Dmitry always seemed to hold against him, never allowing himself to get very acquainted with the male.

“Hello..” He said simply, breathing heavily from the strain he had put himself through that day, but picking back up the large weight, unwilling to appear weak in front of Victor. But Victor seemed unfazed, beginning his own training, their eyes meeting every now and again.

“ Soo… A married man now, hmm?” Victor broke the silence. Dmitry froze, but forced a nod.

“Yes… Pavla. I’m sure you know of her. You perform in the same tent.” He made small talk weakly, not really feeling like delving into this sort of information. But Victor pressed on.

“Yes… I know Pavla.” Victor put down his weight, taking a few steps forward, coming within arm’s length of Dmitry. “She was… a prize you know. Before all of this.” Victor appeared lost in thought, but there was a tinge of anger there.

“She still is.” Dmitry stated bluntly, not enjoying anyone down talking his new bride. At this Victor laughed, Dmitry stopped his movement, standing tall before Victor, weight still gripped in his hand. “You laugh at this?” Dmitry demanded, feeling his anger rise.

“Of course! She is tarnished, were she any fit wife, her father would have let me marry her.” Victor smirked, revealing that he had been her betrothed before all of this, probably not to her knowledge. “But he refused, repeatedly, and when it was discovered she was with child, he would not allow me to have her still, surely to not sully my name with such atrocities, giving her to you instead… your name couldn’t be sullied.” His words were like venom, it became glaringly obvious that Victor still wanted Pavla dispite the lies that travelled around the Troupe.

Dmitry felt fire burn within him, silent, unwanting of confrontation. “When all this… Mess, passes over, I can assure you that when given the choice between me… and you, Pavla is not stupid.” Victor finished with a dark grin, complementing his interjection of “you” with a prod of his finger into Dmitry’s strong chest. Had Victor been drinking? Dmitry couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to take this. Quick as lightning he grabbed Victor by his shirt, a single strong hand pulling him in, so they stood face to face.

“She is my wife.” The statement was cold and harsh. “And she will remain so.” He finished, releasing Victor from his grasp and making his way out of the darkness and toward the camp.

“From the talk around… Your marriage isn’t quite solid yet.” Victor called after him.

When he finally reached it darkness had settled in completely, and he could smell the starch of potatoes, his stomach growled, and approaching the fire he spotted the slim contours of Pavla’s back, coming up behind her and holding her slim shoulders in his hand. “I’m just going to wash up.” He kissed the top of her head, his thoughts swimming densely. How well did she know Victor? Had they been acquainted? Had he started courting her? Surely, he had appeared confident to Victor, but he was far from it. Going inside their tent he quickly changed into another similar get up, tweed shirt and brown pants, something warmer for the evening. He emerged, and in the distance he sense Victors presence. Returning to the fire he took a seat next to Pavla, head still lost in thoughts.
 
Pavla smiled up at him and closed her eyes when his lips pressed to her hair. She lifted a hand up and brushed his hair away so she could caress his cheek tenderly. “OK,” her voice was soft. Watching him head into their tent, she sighed contentedly. Looking up she realized Elizabeth’s eyes were on them. It caused her to blush and the little woman smiled.

“I truly did not mean to interrupt you two earlier. I will try to remember that you two are married and things are different now.” She patted Pavla’s arm.

Pavla found herself wondering what might have happened had she not interrupted them, if they would have submitted and made their marriage complete. Even after she told him she desired him she could sense his apprehension. Her thoughts were interrupted by his joining her on the log. Slipping her arm through his and laying her head on his bicep she gave a little squeeze. Standing to help pass out dinner, all it took was a stern look from Glorianna before she was sitting once again.

Dinner was a more jovial event this night then it had been her first night. She ate little of the meat giving over most of her portion to Dmitry, the potatoes she ate. Her stomach satisfied she sat enjoying the warmth of the fire for a little while longer.

The conversations around her varied, some talked quietly while others spoke loudly and were animated. Pavla stretched, she wasn’t tired just still feeling a bit sore and she hoped the bath would take care of that. Her eyes fell to Dmitry; he seemed preoccupied with his thoughts. Pavla wondered if he was thinking about earlier or if something else had happened. “You are awful quiet tonight,” She grasped his empty plate and gently pried it from his hands and stacked it with her own. Taking both to the set up area she walked slowly over and washed their dishes.

Her hands coated in the soapy water Glorianna stepped to her side, “You should rest Pavla. Elizabeth and I can do this.” She motioned to Dmitry, “Go be with your husband.”

Pavla smiled and moved back to Dmitry, she sat and leaned against him. “You seem to have a lot on your mind tonight. Is everything okay?” She smiled up into his oceanic eyes, “We can retire and talk if you’d like or do you have a show scheduled for late?” She knew each act was different, some did afternoons and others evenings. They had not been in each other’s company long enough to know schedules. She continued to smile up at him as she waited for an answer.
 
Dmitry ate quietly, taking her additional portion and inhaling it, along with his own. His day had been exhausting, and he was glad that there was no show for him tonight. Generally he, and the other freak show members only performed when the main tent did their shows, usually every other night. They were mainly to distract the circus goers from leaving too soon after the main show was finished, to continue to milk them of their money with unbelievable displays of disfigurement and folly. Tonight they almost all rested, which was nice every now and again, but tonight Dmitry would have been thankful for something to divert him from the thoughts which Victor had injected into his mind.

He sat there with his empty plate in his hand for a while, trying to figure out the best way to ask Pavla of her knowledge of this without blowing his top. Yes, Dmitry could be caring, careful and generous, but with his thick self-doubt came an undeniably lucid temper that he had great difficulty controlling in the past. She was so small and fragile, one outburst from him could easily hospitalize her for months, and with his promise to her weighing heavily in his mind, he would rather pluck out his own eyes than to harm her.

Feeling a tug on his plate Dmitry broke from his thoughts, looking up to see Pavla standing over him, retrieving his plate and bringing it to the washing up tub some feet away. The small sway of her hips hypnotized him, she seemed to be gaining back some of her lustre, less of a shuffling movement, and more graceful. A ragged sigh passed his lips, caught in his throat as she questioned him. Her warmth against his large torso was comforting, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that something which had come so quickly and affected him so heavily, could be taken away with just as much ease. He felt… hopeless, and unable to affect the outcome of his current situation.

“I’m sorry, dearest…” He said softly, trying to force a smile on his lips, reaching across his body and hers to stoke her shoulder gently, comfortingly. “Could we… stay here a moment?” He requested, knowing that here, out in the open, perhaps he wouldn’t do anything drastic, with so many people around, he could keep his temper in check much more easily. Social restraints in place, he gave another ragged breath, looking deeply into her eyes, his hand retracting from her shoulder to trace gently over her cheek, his eyes spoke loudly of confusion and deliberations, his mouth opening and closing a few times, as if determining which words to use.

“Before you… Came here, were you courted by any other men?” His words were careful, still stroking her cheek as he spoke. His hands were trembling, having been hours since he had anything to drink, it had a heavy effect on his physiology, and caused chills to run up and down his body, trying his best to ignore it at that moment. “A man named Victor perhaps? Were you familiar with him?” One could hear the anger build in Dmitry’s voice as he spoke of Victor, picturing him in his head, and all the painful things he wished he could do to him in that moment. He silently prayed she knew nothing of this, had no feelings for him and didn’t even know him, but it was unlikely. He was in such close proximity to her… Dmitry had nothing of the sort before she was thrown into his life not 3 days prior. His azure pools danced across her features, as if trying to read her answer on her face before she even spoke.
 
Nodding she smiled up at him gently. Perhaps he was afraid he’d scared her earlier with his bold actions. He hadn’t, but she didn’t want to make him nervous. Desire for someone and acting on that desire were two different things. She looked in his blue eyes and saw so many things. She clapped her hand gently over his larger on her cheek. Her small fingers caressed his and then pulled one of them into her lap and held it there. The other still caressed her skin. She shook her head no; she had courted no man. Petre thought it was improper to court and had always wanted to arrange her marriage.

Victor’s name was the next to leave his mouth and she looked away. She knew the name. Wetting her lips she turned her head back to his. She’d heard the anger and hurt in his voice as he asked his question. Her eyes met his. “I know who Victor is, the lion tamer, but I never courted him.” She understood now or at least she thought she might. Biting her lip she looked up at him, “I have never cared for another…” her voice dropped to a whisper, “And I have never desired a man before you Dmitry.” Pavla tilted her head and squeezed his hand.

If Petre had chosen Victor as a husband she knew nothing of it. “I don’t know what it is you need to hear from me Dmitry. I have never willingly been with a man and Victor was not the one I had known.” She released his hand and shivered. Perhaps Petre was putting discouraging thoughts into his head and this wasn’t good. Having only known him for such a short time made this harder, she was unsure of how bad his anger could get. “Petre had mentioned Victor to me, but only to say he was a good man.” She said nothing more.

Perhaps it was enough; she bit her lip and held his large hand in hers. Smiling up at him she prayed this was what he wanted to hear. Her eyes flitted to the dark surrounding them; someone was lurking and watching them. Fear filled her and she moved closer to his side. “Dmitry, did my father say something more about him to you?” Soft brown eyes flitted around his face and landed on his eyes.
 
When she spoke, Dmitry felt his heart surge. Desire him…. Although she had said these words before, each time it filled him with the strangest sensation, the natural inclination to return this desire… But like a net thrown over his emotions, his inability to believe these words kept prodding in the back of his mind, continually hissing at him. He forced a small smile onto his lips regardless, looking away from her and off into the fire before him, the flames flickered and danced over the ocean of his iris’. Dmitry wasn’t sure how to approach the subject of her previous life…. The man who took from her without remorse, who she refused to speak of. Dmitry still believed this to be her stepfather, but without her ability to speak on it, he could not act.

The others began to settle in for a comfortable, restful night, some still lingering around the fire with them, but generally most had ventured off elsewhere. They sat for a while, Dmitry saying nothing, pondering on the events of the afternoon. Victor seemed determined to have her, that confident, arrogant demeanor he exuded without so much as an ounce of effort infuriated Dmitry. To her question, Dmitry shook his head, still gazing into the flames.

“No… He said nothing of the man.” He did not divulge further into this question, not wanting to reveal that these thoughts were put there by Victor himself. But they barely knew one another…. And despite this, Dmitry still feared that she could be so easily taken away by a man like Victor. Truly, they had not cemented their marriage, and though it might have been legal, in the eyes of god and church they were not married, so if Victor did take her from him, there was nothing he could do. He looked down to where she sat beside him, her small weight leaning on his body, her arms laced around one of his. Every time he looked at her, his heart thundered in his chest. Desire…. That word couldn’t truly describe what he felt for Pavla. He turned his body slightly, so that he could gain a better vantage of her face.

“I- I know you must still be quite…. Put off, by this predicament we have been put into. I am not a good man, Pavla.” His words were coated with sadness, hand rising once again to stroke over her cheek, gingerly, before resting on knee. “If there were a man who could take you away from this life….” He stopped, gazing off into the distance again, before releasing her from his grasp, rising to his feet. He couldn’t stand it anymore, he heeded to get away from the emotions she made him feel, emotions he believed himself to be unworthy of… unworthy of any sort of kindness. “I wish it could be me.” He finished, turning away from her and walking off into the darkness. He needed a drink, many of them, anything to wash away this unnerving feeling of shame and fear. However his walk was quickly cut short. Victor had remained, undeterred, and lingering in the darkness.

“Dmitry, dear boy…” He spoke, his hand gripped around the neck of a bottle, half full. Dmitry instantly recognized it, he had left many like it around the training area over the past few months. “Looking for this?” Victor asked, lifting it up and shaking its contents mockingly. “Never did have this kind of sick fascination with drink…” He paused, uncorking the bottle and tipping it upright, spilling its contents onto the ground. “Certainly not enough to leave my new bride by herself, in the dark, surrounded by freaks.” His words bit into Dmitry, looking back, still able to see the light of the fire in the distance. He cursed silently, knowing Victor was right. He needed to reorganize his priorities, stop putting the bottle first… but his addiction was more powerful than anything he had ever encountered.

“Go to hell.” Dmitry hissed, turning his back on Victor… This had been a sorry mistake. Quick as lightning the empty bottle connected with his skull, breaking into hundreds of pieces. His eyes rolled back in his head, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. Victor laughed, tossing the broken handle on the ground next to Dmitry’s unconscious body.

“Looks like I get to revel in your mistake.” Victor started off in the direction of the camp, picking up his pace and reaching the outskirts of camp, slowing his walk and coming up behind where Pavla sat. “You shouldn’t be out here alone, you know.” His tone became soft, kind. Victor looked as though he hadn’t left the training area all evening, sweaty, muscles bunched tight from his exertion, still calming from his long evening. Icy blues grazed over Pavla’s body, stopping a few feet behind her. “Where might that oaf be?” He asked, smiling, as if he didn’t already know exactly where he was.
 
She’d hoped her words would have him pull her close and reassure her that nothing was wrong but her words seemed to have the opposite effect. Pavla sat there feeling as though she was making it worse with everything she said. He turned toward her; she smiled a bit more up at him. She heard what he’d said but, didn’t believe it. He had told her he was a monster before but she hadn’t seen anything, besides, the drinking that made him act that way. She leaned into his caress and kept quiet; she could talk when he was done.

Leaning a bit against his hand she smiled until he spoke and looked away. Her smile faded hearing what she said and watching as he moved away from her. She rose; her body wasn’t able to move to get to him. “Dmitry…” her voice was so small. “I- it is you, please… don’t say that…” She thought that he would be picking her up and carrying her to their bed. She wanted their marriage to be real and she thought he felt the same. Pavla sat back down on the log to much in shock to move, eyes burning with tears. He didn’t want her, the alcohol had been talking and he could only “be” with her when he was drunk.

She sobbed curling her arms around herself. Pavla felt as though everything they had strove to build in the last few hours had now com crumbling down at their feet, rather, her feet. She didn’t want just anyone to take her from this life; she wanted it to be him and knew it could be. He needed to have faith and believe it could be. He just needed more time, she told herself. She knew where he was heading. He’d come back, curl into bed with her and she would try to make it right. Her heart ached feeling as someone approached, their steps soft. Thinking it was Glorianna or Elizabeth she kept her eyes forward as she stood slowly. Turning as she heard the buttery smooth voice.

“I’m fine here; you’re the one that has fear. Dmitry wouldn’t let…” She turned her gaze to the dark, “He went to gain water for our bath,” she lied. The tears glistened in the orange light of the fire. She refused to meet his gaze and stepped away from him. “He’ll be back any moment…” her words were mumbled and soft as her hands moved to brush her dark locks out of her eyes and dry her cheeks as well. She stared at him, the way he looked at her made her want to shrink farther into the ill-fitting clothes. “Don’t look at me in that way Victor; I am not some prized goose hanging in the window. I am a married woman!” She stomped her foot for emphasis which made her wobble a bit as she attempted moving away from him still.
 
Dmitry remained unconscious while his new bride was being stalked by the worst kind of predator. Victor was not accustomed to being told no, and wasn’t about to accept it from Pavla. Victor paused as she spoke, lying to him, Victor merely smirked, shaking his head from side to side gently, clicking his tongue against his cheek.

“Dear, dear Pavla… Don’t be so ridiculous. He ran off into the night to get the only thing which makes him happy. The bottle. I however would never treat you like this Darling…” He took a few steps closer, trying to close the distance between them with inching anticipation. She rose away from him, proclaiming her marriage, to which Victor laughed aloud.

“Married? You can’t be serious. Yes, you said your vows and you had your little kiss, but don’t stand there and lie to me.” He took another few steps forward, eclipsing her shadow and close enough to look down at her. He did not touch her, not yet, there were many tents scattered about, and if she screamed there would be most certainly be someone there in mere seconds. Besides, he didn’t wish to frighten her, he wanted to posess her. He leaned down, so that he could whisper in her ear.

“Were you my bride, I would have taken you into my bed the night we married, and you would have never, ever wanted to leave.” His breath was hot on her ear, the heat of his body close, so that she could smell his sweat.

It was around this time that Dmitry was beginning to regain consciousness, he groaned in the inky blackness of the forest, rolling onto his back and holding his head in his hands. “God… Damn…” He mumbled, pulling himself upright and blinking a few times. Dmitry quickly came to his senses, shaking his head and with a groan pulling himself to his feet. His thoughts immediately jumped to Pavla. Nervous blues darted around the darkness, seeing quickly that Victor was nowhere and quickly making his way toward the fire which he could see ever so slightly. He couldn’t bring himself to a run, each time he tried, everything seemed to blend together. He was worried, having not known how long he was out, and also unaware of where Pavla was. He cursed silently in his head, a thick sense of dread falling over him. Why, why had be left her alone? He kept repeating his over and over in his head, as if he could predict the actions of another. Finally he came to the edge of the surrounding forest, leaning up against a tree to gain his breath. He could see two forms by the fire, one tall, one petite, and immediately knew them to be Pavla and Victor. His blood boiled, pushing off the tree and running toward the fire. His anger built up quickly, and before he knew it his hands were on Victors shirt, pulling him away from Pavla and throwing him on the ground Immediately climbing over him and grabbing the front of his shirt, fist connecting over and over again with Victors face. He couldn’t stop himself, even when his knuckles felt broken and bloody. He could hear yelling and screaming behind him, obviously the scuffle had caused some to wake up. Someone grabbed his arm, keeping him from connecting with another punch, someone else taking another and dragging him off of.
“Let go of me!” Dmitry yelled, Victor shuffled away, obviously embarrassed for being caught so off guard and being so easily pummeled.

“You… You will regret this.” Victor hissed, spitting out the blood in his mouth, which dripped from his nose and split lip. “I will see you get 50 lashes for this! You won’t be able to perform for months when the ring master is done with you, let’s see you provide for your new whore then!” He screamed, pushing his way through the crowd that had formed, leaving Dmitry out of breath, shaking his hand and looking around for Pavla, who seemed to get lost in the shuffle. “Pavla!” He called for her.
 
“I’m not lying,” she whimpered as he moved closer still, she froze in place. Her soft brown eyes looked up at him. Pavla was scared, she wanted Dmitry to come back her, she needed him. A chill ran her spine as he spoke, she closed her eyes. “I delivered my child the night we were married, he was kind to me. I would never want you, Ever!” Pavla said moving back from him her eyes focused on the male rushing up behind him. Pavla dropped to the grass and crawled toward their tent. Her heart pounded in her chest as she sat and covered her ears. The sounds of flesh hitting flesh and bones crunching caused her to scream out. Glorianna wrapped her arms around Pavla as the others rushed from their tents to see the commotion.

She heard yelling and shouts before she turned her head into Glorianna’s shoulders. After a few minutes she heard the shuffling end. Scrambling to her feet as Dmitry roared, Victor was a bloody mess. Her eyes scanned for Dmitry, but she couldn’t find him and panicked. Victor’s words landed on her ears in the hush of the crowd. “NO..” her voice was soft, he couldn’t get 50 lashes he was defending her from that man. He screamed out calling her a whore, she wasn’t a whore. Tears burned her eyes and ran down her cheeks as the man ran away.

“Dmitry,” she yelled moving toward his voice. The group parted allowing her through to him as the men holding him released their grip. Moving to his side she gasped, concern painted her features as she looked him over. His hand was a bloody mess and was already swelling. Small olive toned hands grasped his larger ones. “Let me help, come with me.” She ran to their tent and grabbed what she would need. Strips of cloth, ointment and rags; she rushed back to him sitting at the table. “Why did you do that, Victor will go to Petre and you will be hurt… you shouldn’t have…” Her heart ached at how he’d be hurt. She wouldn’t allow that to happen. Pavla wasn’t sure how but she’d be taking his lashes.

She washed the bloodied knuckles tenderly with one of the rags dipped in cool water. The rag turning red and the water as well, “Dmitry…”, dipping her finger into the pot of ointment she looked up at him. “This will sting.” She spread the ointment on the broken skin and blew on it gently. She wrapped his hand with the clean strips of cloth and kissed the bandaged hand. “I’m not a whore. I don’t want that man. I want only you, my husband.” She climbed into his lap and stroked his face, her eyes were steady and locked on his. “Please don’t leave me, I don’t want another… I am yours Dmitry.”
 
Dmitry could hear the frightened whispers of those around him, the concern, the desperation in their gazes and voices made this actions of only a few moments ago dawn on him with shocking reality. What had he just done? His question was quickly answered when Pavla appeared before him, concern written all over her young lovely face, immediate shame filling him. He had jeopardized her, their life together, his temper unmanageable and screamed at him into action, and once it was put in motion... it would have taken a catastrophic event to stop it. Though at that moment, Dmitry felt as though there had been one, his heart pounding in his chest, watching Pavla touch his mangled hand, he winced, it was severely swollen, and blood dripped from his fingertips, he pulled it out of her grasp, not wanting her to see what he had done to himself, but she took his good hand, pulling him away from the prying eyes, something that he was thankful for.

She pulled him back into the comforting warmth of their tent, motioning for him to sit at the table, which he did, leaning his bad hand against the table at the elbow. He hissed in pain, still not able to move it, too caught up in his own agony to notice Pavla scurrying about, attempting to gather some supplies to clean his wound. Eventually she sat before him, taking his massive phalanges in her small hand, the other daintily pressing a damp cloth to it. He let out a small groan of pain, eventually getting used to the stinging warmth of the cloth, watching her small face closely as she minded her task. It pulled at his heart, watching her mend him so tenderly, watching as the cloth became crimson with blood that refused to stop. He did not speak, not knowing what to say, how to apologize to her for the predicament that he had gotten them in. The threat of a whip was fresh in his mind, many before him had gotten it, and the pain of the encounter was not what concerned him, it was the chance of infection and death after that was truly threatening. To leave Pavla a widow at such a young age was not something he could even imagine.

She spoke then, warning him of the ointment, he gave a gentle nod, and let out another groan, emphasis coming to his voice at the sudden rush of feeling through his hand and the swollen numbness. He let out a breath, trying to give her a small smile as she wrapped his hand with clean cloth, making it tight but not enough to cause pain. He took his hand from her when she finished with a small kiss, trying again to flex his digits, but it refused. Letting out a sigh he conceded defeat, leaning his broad shoulders back into his chair as she rose, a look of slight surprise coming over his face when she crawled into his lap. He wrapped an arm around her waist, nuzzling his face into the soft flesh of her neck, shaking his head back and forth.

"Leave you? How could you imagine such a thing... I just beat a man half to death for speaking ill with you, the last thing I want to do is abandon you to the likes of him." His voice was soft, just above a whisper as his lips gently connected with her clavicle. He rose his head, so that he could admire her beauty more fully, connecting with the deep brown of her eyes once again, never leaving him with a single breath when they did.

"You are most certainly not a whore, and If I could beat him further for that remark, I promise you I would have." A tiny smile pulled at the corner of his lips, looking away again, never able to gaze into her eyes for too long without feeling almost bashful at her loveliness. His bad hand remain hanging lip at his side, the other supporting her weight against his form, stroking along the slimness of her waist where it rested.

In the silence of their tent, the warmth of her body against his, he could feel her heartbeat against his body and felt an impossible connection with her. It was surreal, having never felt this sort of emotion for anyone, he kept trying to think of some way to tell her how he felt, but couldn't form the words to explain it to her. His eyes rose to meet hers again, giving a small kiss to her gentle pout, holding it momentarily so that he could pull himself up more closely, allowing her to sit more comfortably across his lap, his newly bandaged hand resting on her lap. He broke the kiss.

"I don't know whats going to happen tomorrow Pavla...." He was worried, it was written on his features, taking his bottom lip between his teeth thoughtfully.
"I'm sorry I never got your bath for you.... Perhaps you would like to go down to the lake? I know its not warm but..." He sighed, realizing just how horribly he had messed things up.
"I may not be able to walk tomorrow." He spoke with an air of doom and defeat, truly imagining the worst for the morn.
 
Pavla felt his arm go around her waist; a small tremor wiggled its way through her small body at the tenderness he showed her. The heat of their closeness worked its way into her as well. She held his gaze after he spoke. Deep down she knew that was why he had gone after Victor the way he did, but he’d walked away from her to drink, to something she felt he thought of as more important than her. His blue depths held so much in them it was hard to look away as she tried to decipher each thing that crossed them. She sat trying to think of what to say, to make him hear her, make him understand she did want him as her husband and not another. She gave him a small smile as he looked at her once again, his tender kiss surprised her. She closed her eyes and settled into his lap once more as they kissed.

Wanting more of that she smiled up at him, but the words he spoke caused the smile to fade. She didn’t want to think about the next day. It caused fear to rise up from the pit of her stomach. Petre was an evil and horrible man; she bit her lip as well. She wasn’t going to tell him of her plan to take the lashings; she knew he’d never allow her to. She trembled at the thought of him not being able to walk. Tears welled in her eyes as he spoke. Once he was quiet she spoke up, her voice was soft, “I asked you not to leave me because you walked away, Dmitry. You keep telling me you aren’t good enough, but you are. I think the world of you and am glad to be your wife. If my father were to demand it I would not leave your side.” Her hands traced his lips and cheeks tenderly.

Her hear thudded against the walls of her chest and her breaths were a touch unsteady. “When I look at you, I don’t see a monster. You never ask what I see, you only assume.” She gazed up at him lovingly for a moment as she traced his face tenderly before caressing his lips with her own. Letting them linger together a moment before she broke the kiss, “Even if it is cold I would like a bath. I am achy and if I am to talk my father out of anything I will need to be presentable.” She slid from his lap and wiped her eyes. Gathering the few things she would need to bathe she turned her head to him and smiled. She didn’t ask him to come along; she took his uninjured hand in hers and pulled him with her. After what happened she was not leaving him alone or herself alone as well. As they walked she spoke, “If I am drug away tomorrow kicking and screaming, know that it is what had to be done to spare your life, and I’m sorry that I could not stay with you. Whatever happens I’m yours.”

The lake was calm; the rock riddled shore was open. She smoothed her hands over his face before resting the basket on a large flat rock. “You can sit and keep watch or join me. “ She turned her back to him, though he had already seen her naked form she was glad for the cover of darkness and her long hair. She bent at the water’s edge and wet the cake of soap and the sponge she had brought with her. Moving into the cool water she shivered, the bottom was muddy and she could feel it squishing up between her toes. Dropping down she sunk under the water level and came back up with a small yelp of surprise. It was much colder than she thought and being wet the wind whipped around her body causing goose bumps to rise up all over.

She thought about Dmitry, did she love him? Was it possible to love him after only a few days? She certainly felt something for him and if tonight was their last night she wanted to make their marriage real. It would be something good for the both of them to look back on. A moment of love in the bleakness of the world around them, she bit her lip. Pavla was still uncertain about him. If he didn’t want her in the same way. Perhaps he only wished to let her go so as to cause her no more pain. Three days, she’d only been married for 3 days and she knew if anything happened she would be distraught and miserable. She rubbed the sponge over her skin the suds making her olive complexion appear silver.
 
His lips parted slightly to speak, but the truth in her words stunned him into silence. It was true, he had never really, truly asked her about her preference, how she felt about being thrown into this situation, he merely assumed it to be a complete nightmare, and being married to him… Well, he truly thought no woman would have ever really wished to be with him. But was it pity? He could not decipher this completely, but the look in her eyes did not speak of shame, or that saddened look of slight disgust he was much more accustomed to from women of Pavla’s caliber. He simply closed his mouth, letting her take his hand and rising to his feet, following her through the darkness and toward the lake, stopping at its precipice.

The night was beautiful, not cold, but the wind was prone to small bursts of activity, blowing his long hair about every now and again. She requested that he watch, or join her, but Dmitry did not give his answer right away; indeed, he was unsure what she would accept from him at that moment. He had abandoned her, leaving her alone to fend for herself against Victor, and truthfully, he trusted those around him too much. The men who shared tent space with him were not exactly handsome, and having a beautiful, and at the moment, weakened girl like Pavla within arm’s reach may have been more than they could bear. Surely, Victor was disgusting in his mind, but he did not expect her to hurt Pavla. Though, he was unpredictable.

All of this made its way through his synapses, lost in his own musings, having not noticed that Pavla had already stripped and was waist deep in the waters, coaxing the sponge over her body with a deft hand. The image impaled him through the heart. Moonlight danced across her dermis, glinting off of the smooth wetness of her long locks, hanging down the soft curve of her back. He took a few steps forward, coming to the water’s edge; it lapped ever so slightly at his boots. Dmitry’s brain screamed at him to join her, watching the suds drip over her shoulder at the sponge made its way around her form. Taking a deep breath, he walked back to the large rock she had placed her basket, pulling his shirt quickly over his head, removing his pants, boots, and undergarments in one fell swoop, abandoning them in the sand and making his way barefoot back to the water, entering it without further ado. He took in a sharp breath; it was freezing, knowing now why Pavla had let out a gasp. Continuing his trek through the muddy river bottom, and eventually clearing the distance between them. The water lapped at his thighs, he paused behind her, able to feel the warmth of her, so close, it was palpable.

Silently his good hand rose, wrapping about her waist once again and pulling her back against his chest, his lips lowering to brush against the top of her head.
“I’m… so sorry Pavla. I know I’ve made mistakes over the past few days. I can’t….” He stopped, his injured hand coaxing her long tail of wet locks over her shoulder, connecting gentle butterfly kisses to the newly exposed flesh. Admitting this was hard for him.
“I’m sorry I keep putting Booze before you. I don’t understand why it controls me so…” A heavy sigh passed his lips, pulling her more closely against his chest. The small of her back pressed against his lower torso, eliciting a sudden response from him. Her warmth, it was simply too divine, and could not control the effect it had on him. He did not try to hide it, for it was obvious how much he desired her… To him, it had been obvious since the day he had been graced with her presence. He held her close still, shielding her from the wind, simply basking in her presence, letting the tiny sound of the bubbles on her sponge pop be the melody of the moment.

“I promise, from this point forward… I will try with everything in me to stop drinking. To never put it before you again.” His promise was stern, and direct. Giving her a gentle nudge, he turned her, so that she faced him, still pressed closely against him, her oval face looking up to him, the sudden exposure of her breasts making his heart pound.
“Do.. Do you forgive me?” He asked in almost a whisper, tracing his fingers just above the rise of her pert chest, mesmerized by her naked body against him.
 
She knew he was behind her, sensing him, and she held her breath. Pausing in her washing she waited, her skin quivering as his hand moved across her stomach. Her back felt the warmth of his skin, the fact that he was naked passed through her head more than once. It took everything in her not to moan as she felt his hard body press against her soft one. Her mouth closed and her expression softened. A tremor raced through her body at the slight touch to her shoulder. Knowing how hard it was for him to say he was sorry since the booze was something he had been doing for a very long time. Though it wasn’t his words that stopped her thoughts from forming, it was the reaction of his body to hers pressing into her soft flesh. He warmed in his arms, his larger body shielding her from the wind that blew over the lake.

Pavla knew he’d had a hard life; perhaps it was what fueled his need for the drink. The moment she was spun to face him her cheeks tinted as his hardness was pressed to her soft stomach. She believed him, the way he spoke so sure let her know he meant it. Her chin almost rested on his chest as she looked up at him her brown eyes held desire, even if she wanted to hide it, she couldn’t. she felt his gaze drift to her breasts. She didn’t bother to hide herself, after all, he was her husband. Her heart pounded so loud and so swift she thought it might burst from her chest as she stood there his hands just beneath her collarbone.

“All is forgiven Dmitry, I will help in any way I can, as much as I can. I will try to be a less problematic wife for you. Her hands lifted and she traced over as much of his broad chest as she could reach. She smiled softly up at him. “I will try not to let them take me from you, Victor deserved what he got… he spoke badly of you, of if he were my husband and he made me feel uncomfortable. My father will be much worse. I am not sure what he will do, but I wish to be fully your wife Dmitry, that way if I am pulled from you we can attempt to fight it.” The hands that had been brushing against his chest now slid up around his neck and pulled his lips to hers.

Pavla kissed him desperately, her lips and body pressed tightly to him. Reluctantly she broke the kiss, panting, “My desire is strong for you and I know that you desire me as well. If tonight is our last night…” A tear spilled over her cheek at the thought. “I want it to be something memorable and loving.” She chewed on her lower lip as one hand traced lower on his torso, she was nervous. “May I have you tonight my husband?” Her hand dipped lower as her lips found his again. Her small hand slid against the hardness she felt against her belly. She had never had a man she wanted, she’d only been taken. The experiences she’d had were horrific, but the sensations she felt building in her nether regions were new to her. She moaned into their shared kiss as the wayward hand wrapped around his thickness. Her knees went weak and she was glad for his arm holding her up.
 
Dmitry smiled more fully when she spoke her forgiveness, giving a gentle nod when she finished, focused more on the lines her fingers were tracing against his chest, the muscle beneath contracting with each new sensation she gifted him with. She was tentative, seeming unsure of her hands, but Dmitry did not speak any encouragement, merely allowing her to silently explore his body, the simple pleasure of her hands was almost more than he could bear. His breathing betrayed the level of his arousal, which was quickly caught when she pressed her body closely to his, pulling herself up to kiss him fully. He gave a small moan of approval, wrapping his arms around her waist, lifting her slightly from the cool waters and caressing her lips with his, the sweet nectar of her mouth was delightful, and he could have fed from it forever. When she pulled away from him, he almost whined, but opened his eyes to hers, they were almost black in the darkness, massive pools of obsidian lust directed fully at him. He returned this hungry gaze, listening intently to her words, and despite this, he was sure that he had not understood what she asked of him. His full wife? The words shot through his mind, taking a moment to put two and two together, realizing then what she spoke of, his eyebrows raising slightly. Most certainly, he wished nothing more than to pleasure her, but he worried it was too soon after her miscarriage, he didn’t want to hurt her or cause any further pain at the hands of a man.

But her kiss reassured him, and he returned it more forcefully, a hunger within him beginning to break the surface, a feeling he had not been able to enjoy for what felt like decades. She spoke again, more breathy this time, a direct request, if there ever was one, for him to make her his. He nodded, equally breathless, rejoining the kiss as if he never wanted it to be broken again. He could feel the warmth of her hand, snaking its way lower, and lower still, his heart pounded in his chest with anticipation. Her hand finally found its destination, and he breathed hotly against her lips, the sensation causing his throat to catch. Her small digits wrapped around his manhood, and with some shock he could feel how large he was in her grasp. The thought worried him… She was so petite, and those women with whom he had lain in the past were much larger, yet still he had seen the pain painted on their faces when they joined. He wanted this to be enjoyable for her. Forcing the thought from his mind, he continued the light pecks against her lips as her hand coaxed him into a state of bliss, his own digits wandering over the smooth lines of her hips, travelling up the flat plane stomach and cupping her chest, the soft, pliant flesh responded to his touch, gently rubbing his thumbs over their peaks slowly, back and forth as their lips continued to battle.

He slowly pulled his lips from hers, they were both puffy, hungry for more.
“I want nothing more than to pleasure you Pavla…” His voice was softer than he had ever imagined himself capable of, filled with a tenderness that had never graced his lips before. But for her… Dmitry truly felt he would do anything at that moment. He bent slightly at the knees, so that her hand disconnected from the pleasurable work they had been performing, his single good arm cupping beneath her bottom, and pulling her up from the cool water below them, gently ushering her leg around his waist. His lips lowered, dotting a trail over her chest as he turned, walking out of the water to the sandy, soft edge, where the water flowed about his feet, catching the moonlight in their dance about the shore. There he laid her down, hovering above her on his knees, he watched the soft blue light caress her skin, and in that moment, he had never seen something so beautiful.
“You are… Stunning.” He could no longer remain silent in his admiration, closing his lips around hers and gently pressing his body lower, so he could feel her warmth again. He parted from the kiss, traveling over her neck and shoulders, never able to get his fill of her flavor.
“Are you sure of this my Darling?” He asked gently, raising his eyes to hers, still gently kissing over her neck as he awaited her answer.
 
Pavla could feel his unease as she stroked him, but she also felt his desire welling up and pooling same as her own. He was quite large, but she didn’t let her mind dwell on that only that he was her husband and she wanted him. Continuing her movements her hands squeezed him gently as they moved, she wasn’t entirely sure it was enjoyable until she felt his hand roaming over her own flesh. If there was a way for them to get closer to one another , it was now and she pressed forward hunger for him apparent in her movements. Her breasts in his large hands felt on fire as he ran his thumb over the soft dusky peaks, they hardened instantly and she gasped in pleasure against his lips. Her heart was a speedy flutter in her chest as the heat in her body spiraled upward.

Even though it was a slow release of her lips she still whimpered, not yet ready to discontinue the event. His soft voice reached her ears as she stood gazing up at him; the moonlight caused shadows to creep across his body and face. Though she knew the desire was there without even looking she could feel it scorching down from him to her and linking the duo where they stood in the cool water. Her hands slipped from his length as he bent down, his face level with hers. Smiling she brushed her hands over his face tenderly as he lifted her from the water. The air hit her flesh and chill bumps formed over the surface of it as her legs wrapped themselves about him. Her eyes closed as his head dipped to place kisses along the rise of her chest, she wondered if he could feel how her heart thundered for him. “I wish only to please you Dmitry,” she whispered as her face turned up to the night sky.

Her arms and legs released their grip on his larger form as he laid her in the sand. The soft, yet, gritty feel beneath her delicate skin was different, sensual and alluring. Pavla felt so small gazing up at him in this position, and although she knew she was much smaller she didn’t care. He was her husband and in this moment she’d have given herself to him if her were twice as large, adoration for him shone in her features, though she blushed in the pale moonlight as it bathed her skin, his compliment a rarity to her ears. Years of hearing she was worthless and not as beautiful or as delicate as the others around her. She wasn’t blonde and curvaceous, nor did she have blue eyes, she was too plain and common, at least that is what her mother and Petre always said.

Her mother bleached her hair and her eyes were green, she cinched her waist and more the clothing of a harlot in attempt to appear sexy. Pavla preferred being invisible, except in this instance. “Thank you, she whispered, her throat thick with emotion. Her lips lifted to his and bestowed him with kiss after hungry kiss. Her legs were spread over Dmitry’s thighs from when he’d laid her down, and she could feel his warmth against her core. Though she was cool to the touch, her insides were near boiling as his lips moved lower on her skin. Petite arms stretched far to allow her to caress him as he hovered above her. She moaned softly as his lips burned her skin, her eyes were closed when the question filtered in. Her brown eyes lifted to his blue, they were a bit bleary from need but still found and locked on his gaze as her small hands caressed his flesh languidly.

She was more than sure that she wanted to be one with her husband; no one could have talked her out of it except her. Pavla smiled softly, she wasn’t about to do that, they had come so far and she wished not to return to the past. “Yes, my Love. I am certain of this, you are the most desirable man and I adore you.”

Victor had rushed to Petre, furious words were exchanged. Petre found it enlightening that Dmitry had taken a shine to what was once his whore. He would pay for injuring Victor, of this Petre was certain. His lip curled into a sneer as he grasped the handle of his whip. It was new; the last one had been worn out on a young hunchback that had over stepped his boundaries and taken it upon himself to escort a young woman to her carriage instead of calling for a more handsome man to do so. Victor caught the woman placing a kiss upon his bulbous cheek before departing. A swift kick had taken the man down and Petre had him tied to a spike in the center of the living quarters. He was beaten until he was un recognized by his closest friends. Petre had forced Pavla to nurse him back to health; once he was healed he released the man and turned the dogs loose on him.

He winced, he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Pavla and now that she was without child she would be more fun. Not that he cared before, he’d of taken her until she gave birth and then probably afterwards, but she needed to be taught a lesson. If the giant were in love with her then taking her away would be a crushing blow. And since they had yet to make their marriage complete there was no chance of her birthing that freaks spawn. He stroked his chin; Victor had shown an interest in her. Perhaps Victor would take the troublesome girl off his hands. He stood and stretched as a sneer crossed his lips, the sneer stayed in place as he made his way through the encampment. He roared out to all that would listen. “Where is Dmitry and that wretched female?”
 
Dmitry needed no further reaffirming, nodding his head and lowering his eyes back to the soft skin of her chest, returning to the task at hand, tasting every inch of her naked body that he could. He went lower still, hot lips coming in contact with her hardened nipple, taking it within the confines of his mouth hungrily, flicking his tongue over it a few times. Her body responded without much hesitation, the small bud becoming even harder, he turned his attention to the other, giving it the same tender affection that he did the first. Though he did not linger there, making his way over her ribs, his hands stroking over the area first, before his lips, nipping at her skin, watching the goose bumps rise where he touched. It was the most enjoyable process he had the pleasure of partaking in, wishing to take his time with his new bride, to make them accustom to one another’s’ bodies more fully. So he carried on, slowly, a painstaking pace which he made no motion to rush… they had all night, as far as he was concerned.

As his lips continued their fiery path down her stomach, his hands were not still, dappling his fingers over the coolness of her thighs, the tender flesh found there aroused him greatly, imaging the way he would hold them when he finally took her. Though there was no need to leave the moment, he held the crooks of her knees in his hands, she was spread delightfully before him, an incredible view which he was sure no man could ever be worthy of. He smiled to her, where he knelt in the sand, sitting himself upright so he could enjoy the view more fully. He watched the torrid rise and fall of her chest, her long, deep espresso locks splayed like a halo around her head in the sand. He could feel the color rising to his cheeks; he was surprised with himself, and glad for the cover of darkness. Indeed, she was the loveliest thing that had ever lain before him, and he hoped to see her in this manner many, many times in the future, the thought bringing his arousal to the forefront once again.

Letting his hands fall from her legs, he leaned forward, balancing on the ball of his palm, lacing his arm beneath her, pulling her slight weight up from the sands below them. He pulled her close, so that her supple bottom rested against his lap, so that the thickness of his length pressed directly against the soft, most folds of her intimacy. The sudden heat elicited a moan from his lips, pressing his forehead gently against hers.

“Pavla…“ He groaned her name, his hands grasped to either side of her pert behind, pulling her more closely to his length, the pleasure made him dizzy, releasing one of his hands from her rear to lace through her hair, pulling her lips to his with the vigor of his lust, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling on it gently.

So preoccupied was Dmitry with the wonderful moment they were both encased in that he barely heard the commotion from the shoreline, but eventually it became so loud that it could no longer be ignored anymore, seeming as though it was becoming closer to where the two sat intertwined with one another.

“What the hell is all this….” He broke their kiss with much dissatisfaction, looking around her to the spattered forest ahead. He could see fire, and it was moving, it became glaringly obvious that they were torches. Were they searching for him? His heart pounded in his chest, but this time, it was in fear. If they caught them there, like this, he would surely be beaten within an inch of his life, and a nude woman was enough reason to rape her. He took a deep breath, looking back at Pavla, his deep azure orbs searching those warm browns for some sort of affirmation, but their answer was provided for them in the sound of a gunshot. He jumped slightly; it was rare for guns to make an appearance unless they had formed some sort of mob or posse. Though, with another glace to the woods, he could see more torches, and they were coming closer each moment he hesitated. Looking back to Pavla again, he kissed her tenderly, holding her small face in his hands, breaking it quickly and holding her against him, shuffling to his feet, helping her up as well.

“We should get dressed… I fear that the events for tomorrow morning will be happening tonight.” His voice was laced with worry, having expected his lashings to be a much more civil affair, but with so many men, drunk as well, they would coax Petre on, he was sure, and the number of times the whip might fall upon him could quickly multiply. He hurried over to their clothing, pulling his trousers on and buttoning them up, not making it far in his attempt to clothe when the sounds of dogs barking broke the night air. They were close.
 
Pavla moaned into the cool night air as his mouth, once again returned to her breasts. She quivered and whimpered with need. Her hands stroking over his hair and shoulders and part of his back as he lowered still. Her body was so responsive to his; she could feel her womanhood slicken as it prepared for him. Her heart beat swift and true in her chest as she watched him, love mingled with lust danced in her eyes, playing over the olive features of her face as well. The slowness with which he savored her made her smile, she was incredibly turned on and the desire in her body was unlike anything she had ever felt before. His hands on her thighs made the skin tingle and then as they slid to the backs of her knees her body stilled. Her brown eyes met his blue; they were so dark in the pale light of night. Blushing as his eyes raked over her bare form she wondered if he was counting the imperfections or if he were just looking her over. She felt on display for him, the way she lay on the sand before him, legs spread wide to accommodate his larger form, the ragged breaths she took shaking her body, and the soft whimpers that left her mouth, begging him to have her.

It was only the two of them; nothing else mattered for her, but him. Her eyes travelled over his body, the strong broad expanse of chest, dappled with hair as a man should have, the thick arms that led into slightly tapered wrists and large warm hands that even now were hauling her up into his arms. She rested her small palms against his chest as he held her against him. The feeling of his hardened length against her caused a moan to fall from her lips; she arched her back and pressed her breasts to his chest as he held her there. The way he groaned her name made her smile, she ran her hands up to his face and shoved his long hair out of the way. Her thighs quivered as he pulled her closer to him and the way he held her to him had her moaning his name into his mouth as he tugged on her lower lip. Pavla was moaning and gasping for air when his hands continued tracing over her skin.

Moving her hips she smiled up at him softly, she’d hear the commotion and thought little of it. The gun shot was loud and caused her to gasp but not in a good way. “What’s going on?” she whispered before his lips met hers. Her feet were on the ground and she dressed at his urging. The crowd’s noise becoming unbearably loud in her ears, “Noooo,” she whimpered tossing on a faded dress and slipping on thin cotton panties. She could feel the sand between her skin and her dress but she didn’t care. Rushing forward she wrapped her arms around him. “I’m scared..” she managed to whisper before they were surrounded.

“What have we here?” Petre asked, though the flush on Pavla’s skin and the marks on the sand gave him a clue and it infuriated him more to know she had given herself to this monster of a man. “You disgust me,” he growled out. “Seize him, we must show him what it means to try and take one of our own out.”

Pavla watched in horror as they were surrounded and Dmitry overpowered. They moved him struggling and fighting to a set of spikes with chains. She recognized it as what they used to bath the elephants and keep them steady. on arm and one leg were clasped in the cuffs and try as he might they weren’t pulling up from the ground. The crack of the whip caught her attention as she watched Petre step forward and the crowd moved back. He sneered at her husband, and accused him of trying to kill Victor. “NO! No, father…” She stepped forward tripping and falling at his feet. “Please, Victor threatened me and would not leave me alone, Dmitry was protecting me.” She watched as he shook his head no. “Please, he’s my husband and I love him…” her voice was soft.

Petre laughed, “Stupid girl.”

Pavla watched in slow motion as he reared back and the whip hit over Dmitry’s flesh in a sickening snap. She watched him rear back again and before she could thing she had wrapped herself around him. “No, please don’t hurt him. Please.” She couldn’t describe what the crack of the whip felt like. She felt the blows land on her form and rocket through her. Losing track of the number and the pain it caused. The crowd swirled and drunkenly cheered him on. Blow after blow, hit her body, she knew he would be upset with her for doing this, but she had to save him.
 
The moment was lost, and now the pair had something much more difficult to deal with. Dmitry’s eyes darted around the crowd which surrounded him, his strong arms wrapped around pavla, he refused to let her go, but before he could tighten his grasp on her, four men had grabbed his arms, prying her from his grasp.

“No! Pavla!” He called to her, fighting against the men who held him, but more joined in, he felt a swift knee to his stomach, and with the wind blown out of him he was without much resistance. Still he fought them though, continuing to call her name, trying to spot her in the large crowd, but unable. They led him through the Circus grounds, a much larger crowd beginning to follow, curiosity fueling them.

Eventually they paused, throwing him to the ground where he could see the glint of metal from the light of their torches, one quickly locked around his ankle, he pulled at it vigorously, but to no avail. There was laughter and shouting around him, he looked up, hoping to see Pavla, safe, but before he could his wrist was grabbed as well, chained in the same fashion as his ankle. He lay splayed out on the ground, face in the dirt while those around him cheered Petre on, urging him to discipline Dmitry for his wrong-doing. And so he was accused, with no trial, and sentenced to twenty lashings, the crowd called for more, but the number remained. Dmitry was thankful, he had been expecting more, but it did not make the situation any more keen. From the corner of his eyes, he finally spotted Pavla.

“Pavla!” He called for her again, but she seemed not to hear him, falling to her knees and begging for Petre to stop what he was doing, trying to defend him. Dmitry shouted at her, telling her to stop, to get to safety, but she remained, clinging to Petre’s trousers. Dmitry watched him laugh, raising his whip above his head, Dmitry closed his eyes and braced for it to fall. The noise was almost worse; Dmitry’s eyes went wide with pain, crying out when the first blow was struck, blood seeping to the surface of his skin, the strong muscles rolling beneath as he struggled against the chains with which he was bound. He dared not look to see when the next one was falling, but he could still hear Pavla, begging, her words however were lost to him… except one, love. He was shocked, glancing to his side her tear streaked face looking up to Petre, who battered her instead with insults, his arm rising to bring his wrath down again. Dmitry quickly looked away, but instead of feeling the sting of the whip, he felt warmth, and arms wrapped around him. Instantly he knew it to be Pavla.

“No! Stop! Get up! Get UP!” He screamed at her, but it was too late, and the whip fell upon her. He could not see her face, but he could hear her pain, Dmitry struggled to shake her off of him, to take these blows, but she refused to release him, more strikes falling down upon her. The crowd seemed less enthused about this sudden turn of events, watching a woman beaten was not something most enjoyed, turning their eyes away, the jovial nature of the crowd suddenly falling to almost silence, only the sounds of the whip, Pavla’s cries, and Dmitry repeatedly yelling for her to move. It went on like this for some time, until Petre’s feverous pace had slowed, and Dmitry could feel the warmth of her blood against his back. It was a torturous, horrible feeling that he wished no part of. Eventually Victor stepped forward, his strong hand grabbing onto Petre’s wrist, stopping him from raising the whip again.

“That’s enough.” He said simply, Petre nodded, out of breath. Victor stepped forward, his eyes grazing over the torn flesh of Pavla’s back, he cringed. This was not what he had wanted. He made a motion to help her, but stopped, merely bending down and unclasping the chain on Dmitry’s foot. This was enough for Dmitry, wishing no more help from the man who caused it.

“Get the hell away from her!” Dmitry yelled, Victor stepping back from the massacre, and turning to Petre, the two men disappearing into the darkness with what was left of the crowd. Dmitry slid himself out from under Pavla, so that she lay on her front, the true extent of her lashings soon visible to him.

“No! No, no, no….” He repeated, pulling the chain from his wrist and wriggling out of it, quickly scurrying to Pavla’s side. “Pavla… “ He whispered down to her, brushing the hair from her face, pleading with god that she was still conscious.
 
Burying her head in between his chest and his arm she kept it, the pain that seared through her body was excruciating. It was love that held her to him as tightly as she did. She knew Petre was using Dmitry as a way to cause her pain, she knew he’d wished for it to be her strapped, as he was, on the ground. If not his blows would have ceased. Nothing but his heartbeat rang in her ears; she heard not the crowd or Victor. She felt no more pain as she slipped between a numb state of consciousness and unconsciousness. She wasn’t aware of the cries falling from her lips or the blood drenching her thin faded dress, only of him and keeping him out of harm’s way. It shouldn’t have been like this, but life was never easy and very rarely was anything of worth given on a silver platter to the deserving.

The ringing in her ears stopped when the lashes ceased. She became aware of the tears on her face and the blood seeping from her back. The slight dripping and rolling of it on her sides, she didn’t know but her dress had been torn into by the whip and her skin had gotten the full affect. Slowly she realized Dmitry was on the move, sliding out from under her body. Gently she landed on the half dirt and half grass patch. Opening her eyes slowly she saw his face. His blue depths and the pain that lie within them, not pain for himself, but for her. “I had to,” She breathed out. Looking beyond him her blurry eyes thought she saw feet moving slowly toward them. It wasn’t until the voices hit her that she realized whom it was.

Elizabeth patted his large arm, hoping to be reassuring while Glorianna organized the troops. She had the hunchbacks lay a blanket down and Pavla was moved ever so gently onto the makeshift pallet. The two men easily able to bear her weight as Glorianna nodded. They moved slowly back to their encampment with instructions to put the girl in Dmitry’s tent as gently as possible. Moving to the giant man’s side she urged him to walk. “I will take care of her, she is small… but she is brave.” A soft smile reached the corners of her mouth. “Love makes people do foolish things, perhaps she was right to do so and perhaps she wasn’t.” Silently they moved forward.

Pavla was encompassed by the dark, the pain wasn’t as bad as when she had given birth a few days before, but she knew this was deeper than that had been. When she opened her eyes she was laying on their bed, hers and Dmitry’s and her hair was knotted and pinned on top of her head. Her eyes were heavy with sleep and her back felt cool. Elizabeth had removed what was left of her dress and washed her back gently. Her eyes registered the entrance of Dmitry and Glorianna; she let her eyes lock on his for a moment before she turned her head. Had he heard her proclamation? Maybe Petre was right and she was a foolish girl. The same ointment she’d used on Dmitry’s knuckles was spread in a thin layer over her back. She wasn’t able to turn her head and look; she simply closed her eyes and relaxed as much as she could.

A whispered voice stated she was sleeping and should probably remain that way. Pavla hadn’t felt any bandages put on her skin and knew the only thing she wore was the ointment. Her back and buttocks had taken each lashing except one. Laying there with her eyes closed she didn’t dare open them; to face Dmitry now would shame and hurt her. Desire and love were two separate things, she hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, she had wanted to tell him alone first while in private. Not in front of the entire encampment, those words had fueled Petre’s temper. That and the fact, that, she had willing lain with him. A soft tear escaped her eye as she laid on the soft bed, the mattress barely bowing under her slight weight. Petre would come back, even if it were just to torture her more with the fact that he still owed her beloved giant lashings.
 
Dmitry was at a loss, unsure of what to do with his hands, how to help her, to stop her pain. He looked panicked, but thankfully those who had witnessed the exchange emerged from their hiding places, knowing better than to come out when Petre was still around. Glorianna stood beside him, her comforting hand doing little to make him feel better, the bright, sickening red which glistened on Pavla’s torn back made him feel sick with shame. He watched with worry as Gustav and his brother moved Pavla to a sheet, lifting her gently and making haste back to his tent, where they lay her upon his bed. Dmitry immediately knelt beside it, taking her small hand into both of his. She felt cold; he looked up to Glorianna who gave him a small, hopeful smile. It was not much to go on, but when he was ushered away from the bedside it was all he had to go on.

Taking a step outside into the cool night air, Dmitry ran a hand through his now messy brown hair, pacing back and forth in front of the tent doorway, he could hear Glorianna cooing to Pavla, the small murmurs of pain she let out while being tended to, cleaning the sand and grit out of her wounds and treating them with what little they had to work with. He was at a loss of what to do with himself, he was not welcome inside, those with some medical ability doing all that they could for the small girl, and his massive, worried form would not have done much to help the situation. So he conceded, walking with a shamble back down to the shoreline, collecting their things. When he approached the shore it was as if they had never been there, the waters of the lake washing away the imprint of their bodies in the sand. Looking down to the small basket she had carried with her, filling it with his discarded shirt and her shoes, holding one of them in his hand for a moment, looking at the petiteness of it. He could feel a lump rising in his throat, gripping the tiny shoe tightly. This was his fault… All of this. He had caused her to be injured, and unless god was on their side, she could die. So little time they had spent together… And yet, he thought back to her words, the love she proclaimed to all around. Could it really be true? He sighed heavily, collecting her soap and sponge as well. He hadn’t had a chance to wash, too caught up in what was going on at that moment, and like the shape of their bodies in the sand, it was washed away, like it had never happened.

Dmitry resolved to clean himself up, to lessen the chance of infection for Pavla. She was so small, already so weak from her miscarriage; could she fight off whatever foreign bodies wished to take her from him? Quickly he cleansed every inch of him, not wanting to be away from the tent for long, lest Pavla should wake up and he not be there. The soap stung deeply in his one long lashing, he cringed a bit, but the thought of Pavla having to suffer through the cleaning of so many more whippings than he had a much bitterer sting to it. He dressed, bringing the small basket back with him to the tent, seeing Glorianna standing outside of it, a worried look on her face.

“How is she?” He asked worriedly, Glorianna was reassuring, but he could sense the tenseness of her voice. Little was known at that point, whether this would be their final night together. Taking a deep breath he stepped inside, there was a thick, heavy smell of iron inside, mingled with the mentholated scent of the ointment spread on Pavla’s back. It looked far less horrible now, but still equally worrying. He knelt by the side of their bed once again, her long lashes sweeping over the tops of her cheeks, closed gently; he could see the shimmer of a tear on its curvature. Gently he raised his hand, brushing away the moisture and with a slight hand, curving a few tendrils of hair behind her ear which had escaped the confines of her clip. The angry lines of her wounds were exposed to the air, which he assumed was best for such a hefty amount of damage. Dmitry let out a ragged sigh, continuing to brush her hair with his fingertips gently, slipping around the curvature of her face every now and again affectionately. Perhaps Glorianna was right, it might have been wrong, it may have been right, but what was done was done, and they could not go back now. The only thing Dmitry could do was to care for her as best he could, to help her heal and hopefully she would be back on her feet before long. He had little money left, and little to sell to keep them afloat. He sighed again, their troubles were piling up around them, and he hoped that something would happen to give a glimmer of hope to the pair of them.

Dmitry sat by the side of her bed, watching her sleeping face and gently caressing her, humming an old Russian lullaby, leaning his arm on the edge of the bed, head resting upon it. They remained this way for many hours, until eventually Dmitry fell asleep in his position, only the sound of distant crows to warn them of the break of day.
 
Not long after she sensed he was in the room she felt his hand on her face, the warmth seeped into her skin as he brushed her tears away and then brushed over her head, smoothing her hair repeatedly. She wasn’t asleep, only appeared to be, the pain that still riddled her body made it hard to open her eyes, hard to breathe, hard to do anything but lay there. She knew finances where tight, they were supposed to be paid soon but Petre was holding things back until they moved to their next location; it was his way of ensuring that his workers would stay around. Her heart ached, she wanted to open her eyes and see Dmitry. Pavla wanted to see if love shone in his eyes for her, but she was scared that it wouldn’t and it hurt, even worse than the lashings. She drifted off to the sound of his deep voice singing to her.

Pavla woke at the sound of the crows, her brown eyes fluttered before she looked around to see the face of the man she loved. His head was down so she reached out a small hand and moved the hair that blocked her view. The love she felt was real and true, she’d felt closer to him and safer than ever, love was what it had to be. She groaned softly as she moved closer to him. “Dmitry, I’m sorry...” before the words fully left her mouth Elizabeth and Glorianna were in the room. They had her up and blocked off to use the chamber pot , then they were gently washing her body, Glorianna held her up while Elizabeth washed and then they had her sitting in a chair backwards while they washed her back again. Letting her sit there they changed their bed covers, they were soiled from the blood the night before.

“Dmitry, can you build a fire to warm your wife?” Glorianna asked tapping his large shoulder gently. “She is up and seems to be doing better, still very touch and go. If there is anything we can do for you, more than what we’ve already done, just ask. Things are hard for all of us Dmitry. She needs you to stay strong,” Glorianna smiled and stepped back to Pavla’s side. “Are you feeling better Pavla?”

Pavla turned to look at Dmitry giving him a soft smile, he’d seen her naked in the moonlight but she still blushed. Her brown gaze flitted to the woman but looked through her to Dmitry, her voice was soft and she winced at each movement she made. “I hurt, but it’s my own fault…” She gripped the back of the chair, her hands turning white from her hold on it. “I just couldn’t bear it… to see you hurt on my account.” She had tears in her eyes, from the pain of sitting. “May I lay down again, this hurts me. I-I need more ointment.” Her voice wavered with her tears as she cried a little.

She had done this to herself, maybe he could have handled it better, but having to see him so torn up would have killed her inside. At least this way he was safe and he could still work. She was still recuperating from the loss of the baby, at least this could add to her time instead of taking them both out. She remembered his lash and asked him about it quietly.
 
Dmitry awoke to a stiff neck and the sweet sound of her voice, it was small and somewhat coarser than usual, he blinked a few times, sitting himself upright and looking into her large brown eyes with a smile. She was apologizing, to which he shook his head, taking her small hand into his and gently rubbing it, opening his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the entrance of Glorianna and Elizabeth. They went to work like a pair of ants, attending quickly to the task at hand, Dmitry averted his eyes while they tended to the injured girl, wishing there was something that he could do, something to help her.

Glorianna seemed to have read his thoughts, assigning him the task of stoking the morning fire, he nodded quickly, rising to his feet and adorning his boots, stepping out into the cool morning air. It was a bit chilly, and he rubbed his palms together a few times before pulling the heavy axe from its stump before the fire, chopping a few longs into smaller pieces to get the fire started. Once it was taking, he turned and collected a few logs in his arms, dragging them back over to the tent and starting another, smaller fire close to the outside of the tent, arranging a ring of rocks and stoking it gently. He didn’t want her needlessly venturing out into the cold, and this way she only had to step outside to let the heat in.

Finished with his task, Dmitry walked back in, seeing Pavla upright was a pleasant surprise, but he could see the pain on her visage, and it stung in his heart when those deep red lashings became visible. He took a deep breath, looking back to Glorianna and Elizabeth.

“Thank you both… So much. I don’t know what we would do without you… I know nothing about wounds…. How to tend to them…” He let out a ragged sigh, running a hand through his hair. Things were indeed hard all over, and he knew just because Glorianna did not have a husband or children to tend to did not mean she was without her own worries. He could not put into words how much he appreciated their kindness and care they gave to Pavla. He gave Glorianna’s hand a gentle squeeze, trying his best to convey how he felt without words.

His eyes fell to Pavla when she spoke, her slim frame sitting most uncomfortably on the chair nearby. Responding to Glorianna’s question, he could hear the pain in her voice, causing his heart to pound in his chest with concern. She looked so frail, so damaged that he wanted nothing else but to assist her. Glorianna took a step forward, but Dmitry extended his arm, walking to Pavla’s side instead. He shushed her cries gently, bending down, placing his strong hands beneath her armpits and helping to slowly to her feet, letting her scuffle slowly to the bed where he lifted her up gently, placing her in the position he had found her in, those deep lashes exposed to the world. He sat on the bed beside her, picking up the tube of ointment and squirting it onto his fingers, hesitantly applying it to the open wounds on her back.

“I can look after this ladies.. Thank you for everything, truly. Just have to get some food into her now.” He spoke with a forced smile, his attentions turning back to Pavla as they left, Glorianna would hopefully have some stew cooking soon. He had a show tonight, and wanted to make sure Pavla was fully situated before leaving her side.
“Is… Is this alright? Does it feel better?” He asked softly, continuing his gentle application of the minty smelling ointment. She seemed a little less tense now that she was in a little more prone a position, he leaned over her slightly, giving the back of her neck, which looked to be the only part of her back that wasn’t covered in lashings, a tender kiss, before leaning back, continuing to apply the salve.
 
The tears ran freely, she felt them dripping on her breasts and running down her bare body. His presence was enough to quiet her sobs. Using his strength to support her weight she hobbled to the bed, she sunk into the bed, her body felt cold, but the warmth of his hand slowly seeped into her flesh as he smoothed the ointment over and around her wounds. “It is fine Dmitry, I feel much better.” Her voice was soft and her body was much more relaxed instead of the skin being stretched as it was when she had been sitting. She knew he had heard her exclamation by the way he was now acting, perhaps he felt love for her or maybe it was guilt because he didn’t. Tears burned at the back of her eyes as she thought this. She sunk into the bed wishing it could swallow her up, maybe if she died it would end the torment for everyone.

Then almost as if her thoughts had been discovered she felt Dmitry’s lips land on her neck in a soft caress. she shuddered sending the tears she’d held back down her cheeks. The kiss she felt didn’t answer her question, only served to further confuse her. There was a commotion at the front of the tent and Pavla heard her mother’s voice begging tearfully for entrance. She knew that Elizabeth or Glorianna was trying to stop her. “Pavvy,” she pushed through the opening, to find the giant rubbing ointment on her bare body. “Oh my gawd… get your hands off my daughter… you, you monster!” Her voice rang through the tent.

Pavla’s head shot up at the same time that Glorianna pushed through and pulled her mother out. “You are not helping, Dmitry is her husband, and he’s caring for her while YOUR husband was the one to give her the lashings.” Glorianna’s voice was calm, and did not accuse.

Huffing her mother replied, “My husband stated that, THAT beast held her in front of him so he couldn’t receive his proper punishment for almost killing Victor. My daughter was set to marry Victor when she spread her legs to a married man and let him have her way, trying to trap him into marrying her to get out of being given to him.”

“STOP,” Elizabeth yelled up at the blonde, “Your daughter doesn’t need you out here arguing she needs someone to care for her wounds and her husband has stepped up to take care of her, she’s professed her love for him, did your husband tell you that?” She kept her voice low.

“LOVES HIM! Brainwashed, he’s brainwashed my baby…”

Pavla had listened long enough. She slid off the bed painfully slow and made it to the door about this time. She held a sheet over her body and Glorianna moved to help hold her up. “Mother, please stop. Dmitry has not brainwashed me and I am not your baby. I also never spread my legs to a married man. He raped me, took advantage of me and I didn’t want him… “She saw the questions in her mother’s eyes. “Who he is or was, isn’t important. I am away from him here and I am happy.”

Turning, Pavla looked over her shoulder at Dmitry, “Elizabeth is right, I love him. I don’t even care if he doesn’t love me back; I have hope that he will, one day.”

A little while later her mother left and she was lying on the bed once again resting. Glorianna had sent Dmitry to help Gustav and his brother move the wash tub to their tent while she cooked and Elizabeth sat keeping Pavla company. “I think he needs more time to decide how he feels about me, I wasn’t even sure if what I felt was real until that whip made contact. I knew after I said it, it was right. But I’m scared now that it will be used against me.” Pavla confided quietly to the little woman.
 
Dmitry paused in his ministrations, hearing the commotion outside the tent, putting down the salve, rubbing his hands in the cloth near the small basin filled with water, making a motion to rise to his feet. But before he could finish the thought, the tent flap flew open to reveal the slim form of Pavla’s mother. Her entrance surprised him, having never been around when she had previously visited Pavla, and she was every bit as unusual as he expected. When she yelled at him he immediately removed his hands from Pavla, it was almost instinctual, a girl’s mother was usually someone to be hounoured and respected, but in this situation it was just the opposite. Pavla seemed to truly loathe her mother, and given the words that were spewing forth from her lacured lips like acid, he could see exactly why. Never had Dmitry ever wished to strike a woman more than this particular one.

Though he held his temper he watched the fiery exchange between Glorianna and the woman, both yelling about what was best for the pair. He wanted to yell back, to tell them both to leave him alone with his wife and let her rest, the entire situation was counterproductive to her healing. When her mother accused him of using her, as if she were a barrier, he could feel his hands ball into fists, unsure of how much longer he could sit there silently and allow this woman to degrade him before things became much more unsightly.

But before he could act, Pavla was already trying to get up, he attempted to stop her, but the desire for her to stop this exchange was even greater that her pain, shuffling to her feet, dragging their bed sheets with her, he rose behind her, shielding her bottom from exposure. The proceeding exchange was not what he had expected however. The small, weakened form of Pavla, leaning against Glorianna, proclaiming her love once again, it had the same effect on him, causing his heart to skip a beat, and silencing him further. No one had ever spoken such words about him, and he didn’t know how to respond. Yes, he cared deeply for Pavla, and wanted her happy and well more than anything, yes, he lusted for her and wished to finally make her his, but was that love? Dmitry had no idea. He had never had to define his feelings for anyone.

Eventually the tirade was over, Pavla was inching her way back to the bed, still stumbling over Glorianna and laying back down. His silence during this was obviously the wrong choice, but he had always been told to stay out of ladies business, and was shuffled away from the scene to gather the washing basin. Everything had happened in such a flurry, he was left flabbergasted, confused and unsure of exactly how to proceed. With a heavy sigh he walked toward the fire, seeing Gustav there with a large bucket of steaming water, pouring it inside of the large metal container. He paused before it, grabbing either side and lifting it with some strain. There was an immediate sting of pain down his back, having almost forgotten about the lashing he had received. But, he ignored it, even when Gustav protested, saying he could assist, Dmitry did not wish to speak to anyone at that moment. Pavla was unsure about his feelings for her, and he was unable to form the words she wished to hear. He felt so distraught; it was driving him crazy inside.

Returning to the tent, he kicked the rug out of the way, placing it beside the bed and glancing to her, unsure of exactly what to say.

“Its… rather hot…. Perhaps you should wait for it to cool down.” He mumbled, sitting himself on the bed beside her, his hand raising and gently smoothing over her hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t… do or say the right things… I rarely do. But I do care for you Pavla… and as soon as I know what love is supposed to be, I’m sure I will feel it for you also.” His voice was soft; eyes betrayed a hurt within that could not be worded.
 
His silence was not lost on her, the feeling that he was avoiding her too residence in her mind and began to torment her. Elizabeth spoke, but the words were lost on her and she soon left leaving her to think. It was torment to love the unlovable, and feel deeply for one that didn’t want it. Her mind spun wildly around the different things she was feeling and thinking. All the thoughts caused her heart to ache and hurt. Her eyes moved to watch him come back inside; the large tub he carried in was Glorianna’s doing. Pavla closed her eyes when she saw him glance her way. She wanted to feel the way she felt lying beneath him on the sand, the way he’d gazed at her led her to believe he felt more for her than even he knew. She sighed softly, maybe it was only desire.

She knew he was finished and opened her eyes to look at the tub. Beginning to sit up until she heard him speak. Nodding she sunk back onto the mattress. Her skin tingled with his touch. she listened to him silently. He cared for her, was that enough? She bit her lip and avoided looking into his eyes. She nodded, “I understand.” Closing her eyes she turned from him. Wishful thinking that he would feel for her the same. It made her heart ache because she lied, she didn’t understand. “I-I don’t even know what it is, a feeling I supposed. I just know what I feel and it’s more than simply caring for you. But I will allow you your time to find out and not push you.” Her words were soft as she brushed her hand against his.

“Elizabeth plans on staying with me tonight while you are performing. I am sorry that my mother is cruel. Petre has brainwashed her into thinking what he says is always right.” she looked over his face, it was time to confirm the dark secret. “It was Petre who fathered my child, my mother would never believe the truth, only what Petre will surely tell her. Probably that I seduced him, I didn’t want him I was set to find love on my own, I told him I refused to marry anyone he chose. I suspected it was Victor, the way that man seems to hang on every one of my father’s words like it is some expert advice.” Shaking her head she looked over him slowly, she knew he wouldn’t be shocked by this information, and he wasn’t. “You were an exception, you are not what I expected for him to choose and I never expected for me to feel anything for you.”

She sat up slowly, putting the sheet around her body. Bending a bit she dipped her fingers into the water at her bedside. It was still hot and she knew it would be best after dinner. “Elizabeth and Glorianna are going to trade off on caring for me while you are doing your show.” Glorianna entered carrying their food and sat it on the table. She smiled and exited. Pavla stood and hobbled to the table slowly so she could sit and eat.
 
His words were not convincing, and he could understand why. They were barely convincing to him. A ragged breath passed his lips, and Dmitry sat quietly, simply watching her lovely face, the soft wisps of hair around her features. She was stunning, even now, and his heart ached that his words were not a comfort. But a lie would be worse, he thought, and given how her past was so filled with them, he had promised himself that he would not continue the tradition.

She spoke softly to him, and he nodded, watching the tendrils of steam rise from the wash bin, trying to think of the best way to respond. He knew what he felt was more than just a simple caring, more than affection and lust. He had felt lust before, and it was not accompanied by such a great longing to be with the person, nor the painful throbbing in his chest when that person was harmed. It was simply carnal, hungry and lucid, a need that had to be fulfilled and once it was, there was nothing else to keep him there. When they were alone in the water together, he had felt this, but it was so different, one could hardly recognize it as the same feeling. Could that have been love? He pondered this silently.

“Thank you…. I do have tremendous feelings for you Pavla. Please do not think otherwise.” He begged, pools of Caribbean blue searched across her features, then watched as her slim arm reached out to the hot liquid, dancing a few digits within it, before extracting them quickly. He tried to force a small smile, but it was more than he could muster, merely admiring her silently, racking his psyche for a way to make her feel better. She spoke again, relating some information to him, he nodded, wishing more than anything that he did not have to leave her side, but given the situation he thought that maybe being away from him might be the best for her then. Longing was a painful feeling, and it caused him great pain to know that he had been the one who caused it.

All thoughts were lost however, when she revealed the father of her child. He blinked a few times, staring into her eyes, before looking away, his fists balled once again; one could see the white of his knuckles. Yes, he had suspected it, but it was quite another thing to have it confirmed. Anger rushed through him like fire, a snake which wrapped around his mind and injected thick venom of hatred there. But he spoke with precision, looking back down to her small face once again.

“I have always thought so, Pavla. No man would go through so much trouble to cause another person pain unless they themselves were truly evil. He is the only person I have ever met who could give Lucifer a run for his empire.” He tried to give her a comforting smile, but his ability with jocularity was gone with the events of the day before. “Victor… Does have feelings for you. I don’t exactly know what they are, but he could never feel what I do for you.” His spoke reassuringly, taking her hand in his once again, rubbing the back of it gently with his thumb. She was so fragile, he did not know how to touch her, every movement he made was something that could harm her, he was convinced. The ploy her father had pulled finally made sense, why she had been sent to Dmitry, and why, when they had shown true emotion for one another, had Petre exploded into fury, resulting in the blood filled etchings on Pavla’s back. It was dangerous for him to love her. She was safer being unhappy with him, and if not telling her what he felt inside kept her safe, he would do exactly that.

“I expected to fall for you, Pavla.” He said, taking his hand away from her, touching the water, it was still steaming, and surely too hot to come in contact with her wounds. But he played with it absentmindedly, watching it swirl. “Any man with a heartbeat would fall for you.” He smiled down to the liquid, but there was sadness there.

His thoughts were taken away when Glorianna left them with some food, the smell was intoxicating, and he watched as Pavla rose to eat. He stood before her, ushering the girl to lay back down, picking up her plate in one hand and the fork in the other. He pulled the stool in front of her, and sat himself down. Jabbing the fork into the potato he cut it in half, proffering the small morsel to her lips. “I won’t have you straining yourself any further. Here.” His eyes were soft, and filled with genuine affection. He could not seem to speak the words that she wished to hear, but he would try and show her, in every way possible.
 
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