Hungarian Rhapsody Ch. 01

"It was not a lie. I was to be stationed in the North. But I had every intention of taking you with me until ... You must understand love, I wanted you fiercely by my side but I couldn't. You were safer here under your father's protection, there could be no debating it."

She comforted him now as gently as he had soothed her mere minutes ago.

"How long have you been back again?"

"I ... I was never gone. I asked to be stationed in the city permanently, it was granted. But I gave my word to your father that day, as an officer of the Reich and gentleman that I would not see you again."

"He made me promise as well, when you had left, to look into the future, to not even think of you anymore. It made so little sense, I thought you were gone."

"I know. I'm sorry, love, so sorry. I wish things were different. I wish the world had not gone mad."

She took his hand in hers, caressing it with gentle fingers, making him close his eyes at the sensation. Lifting it to her lips she kissed the inside of his left wrist gently, looking curiously into his piercing blue eyes slowly opening. She saw no disgust there, no regret. Only the love of a man, pure and untouched by the madness that had befallen the world around them. His eyes shone brightly with tenderness and innocence, just as they had on the sunny summer day her brother had introduced Erich von Zammerhof to his family.

They had only kissed once before, down by the lakeside. Not long before he had brought the blue flowers to say good bye. She was so nervous then, her stomach fluttering with thousands of butterflies. Mariska had seen them kiss, but none of that mattered. She was in a place where embarrassment couldn't reach. Where such a pure and innocent gesture of love as a kiss could not be branded with shame. She was in her beloved's arms, finally, after the longing of years, dreaming for endless nights how he would hold her, touch her, claim her as his bride. Finally, she was there, in her Erich's arms, his lips a warm, tender caress upon her own, his tongue her teasing playmate, causing the intimate touch of their lips to deepen as he gently started to explore her mouth. Sensations so alien and powerful surged through her young body, beckoning her to wrap her arms around his neck, run her fingers through his neatly combed hair, moan out in delight at the wonderful touches his lips were inflicting upon her own.

No war, no spying servant, nothing impure could reach that secret place where it was only Amalia, Erich and their love for each other.

Passions flared on that fateful October night. The country around them, befallen by revolt and turmoil that day would suffer retribution the next morning and turn into ruins over the months to come. The name Orlay may well not survive the storms of time and history. But for one night, for one magical night, the war and madness outside the doors had stopped to exist for a pair of lovers, taking them to a place where harm could not reach, where grief could be relieved and loss mended with the touches of love, where kisses, feverish and urgent, spoke of desire and commitment beyond every legal or natural law.

Amalia trembled only slightly, even though her heart hammered heavily in her chest. He was magnificent, there was simply no other word to describe him as he lay on her bed, naked as the day he was born. Creamy white skin stretching tautly across the expanse of his chest, soft golden hair forming a tantalizing trail down his belly and hips. A golden arrow to lead to the soft bush of hair the base of his manhood nestled against.

She should have been afraid, good breading and manners told her that. But she felt no fear, only amazement and a curious fascination for the fit, obviously very male body spread out so casually for her inspection on soft satin sheets. It was truly magic, his tight posture was gone, the serious expression had vanished from his face, turning him once again into the handsome, carefree young man she had fallen in love with.

"I think, you have about ten seconds left to come to bed, love" he taunted playfully.

"And if I don't?"

Seeing the impish grin on her face, hearing her light hearted laughter when he tickled her breathless on the bed after a brief, playful struggle, made Erich say a silent prayer.

He prayed for the night never to end.

In the distance a rooster crowed, signaling the approach of dawn in reply.

Erich looked into her eyes, they sparkled with joy. He couldn't do anything for her father, his plan of marriage would at best delay her fate. But by all that was holy, he swore to make their love making worth having lived for, for both of them.

Amalia was young. She was in love. In uncertain times as theirs, it felt deliberating to throw good breeding, proper behavior and caution to the wind. To breathe and love with abandon and passion for the first time, fiercely needing the other's closeness, the safety of their embrace. Words were not necessary anymore to express their feelings, it was right there, surrounding and consuming them, in every kiss, in every thrust of their hips, every bite mark Erich left upon her ivory shoulders and neck, every scratch mark her nails dug into his back. Their coupling was frantic and cathartic, sweet relief flooding them, washing away all the dirt and pain the world outside had caused.

The second time was different and so was the third. Every thrust, no matter how gentle now, hurt Amalia's sensitive and inexperienced womanhood but she didn't care. She wanted him inside her, all around her, forever.

Dawn broke to find them utterly exhausted in each other's arms. Sleep wouldn't come to either. They gazed into each other's eyes mutely, she caressed his face lovingly, played with the fine hair scattered across his chest, kissing him with sweet leisure. His hand rested against her soft brown bush, his fingers moving ever so lightly, teasing, taunting, never quite leaving contact with the sensitive folds of skin hiding at the apex of her creamy thighs.

It was a magical night of happiness and love.

But with morning reason and sense of duty had returned to their lives. Erich was leaving, this time truly and no matter how much he argued, Amalia refused to become his bride. She didn't pretend to hate him, didn't hide her love, she simply refused to compromise him and thereby put his own life in danger.

"Months, perhaps half a year, it cannot take much longer," he had told her, " and the war will be over."

"We'll have lost." She acknowledged sadly, hugging him in a tight embrace.

"Yes. But if we live, if we make it through, I'll come and I will find you. Whatever happens, no matter how hard it is, promise me to try and live."

Oh how he loved to make her smile! It didn't matter that considering their predicament, neither could expect much more than one magical night of love. But hope could hardly hurt anyone, Erich reasoned sadly.

Amalia looked into his eyes, her face suddenly very serious. She kissed him, deeply, with all the commitment and determination of her young heart.

"I promise, I will live, or die trying. I promise you."

It was only in December, the week before Christmas, when she realized with regret that he had never promised her the same.

***

She shivered, she was cold. So very cold. The peaceful state of mind eluding her she drifted towards loud, disturbing noises. Light flashed in the darkness, her lungs started to burn. She gasped for air, as if drowning and moaned from the pain. Then there was silence again, darkness surrounding her like a soothing cocoon.

***

They knew that the front was moving further west with every day even though news only ever reached the camp when new prisoners arrived. The city in political turmoil Erich had left behind just a few months before had been taken under siege by the Russian army since Christmas. A cold January soon turned into an equally cold February without much progress on the invaders' part.

Gazing at the night sky, through the generous cracks of the time worn barrack his thoughts left the sorrowful existence he had been punished with for the final days of his young life. He thought of his father's suicide. The words of farewell he had received from him only two days before falling into captivity. He spoke of honor, of a war long lost, of duty and dignity. The handwriting was flawless, even in his last hours, the general's hand didn't tremble. He remained heartless and cold, right to the end.

He thought of friends and comrades already gone, reflected on his life before the war. He remembered professors and childhood sweethearts, balls and hunts in Bayern at the country side only to have a long forgotten emotion befall him in the darkness of the crowded barrack. Surrounded by his countrymen, he started to feel terribly homesick. It was not German soil he longed for, he mourned for the life he had had and regretted to leave behind.

He felt physically and emotionally exhausted and so very cold.

His thoughts drifted to Amalia once again and he remembered her brother too. How Rudolf used to love star gazing whenever he felt homesick at the university.

"The same stars shine down on our home, the very same stars," he would say.

Erich closed his eyes, his aching, half frozen fingers starting to move on their own accord. Through time and space he traveled by the power of those same magical stars, back to that far away lake side, safely hidden in his dreams. Back into the arms of his Amalia, waiting for him and smiling. She loved to listen as he played, enjoying the perfect acoustics of the music room. She would touch his shoulders, gently swaying to the melody. He felt her warm fingertips comb his hair, run across his forehead and face tenderly while he played for her. Just for her. With all of his heart.

***

To be continued ... should you be interested in reading more. :o)