He was faster than anything she'd seen. Men so large were like giants, and giants were supposed to move in great, halting movements. This one had darted into the fray and caught her attackers with speed and agility, raw power like nothing a normal man was capable of. The shock of his arrival made her go still for one heartbeat too long and the report of another gunshot awakened the adrenaline within her to instinctively move away. Bruised, bleeding, and slow, the young woman made her way across the stone-laid street with what could only be a trail of blood leaking in her wake. Mind reeling, she crouched behind an inset doorway and tried not to curl more than necessary against damaged ribs and the stripes imbedded in her back, listening to the din of blows and connecting fists, an occasional weapon fire jolting her with fear. Surely her 'rescuer' could not be bullet proof?
After several more moments she realized her difficult breathing was the loudest sound in her ears and it frightened her more than the noise of battle. Closing her eyes helped to focus on breathing correctly, but her body was alive with pain and could not be ignored.
"Are you wounded, child?"
Surprised at how close this voice was, the woman jerked her body away as her eyes opened to see the great man who had helped her, his crouched figure less than an arm's length away. Tears sprang forth with the screaming her body protested such movement, but she made not a sound and stared at him in gasping despair.
There was concern in his intelligent eyes as he regarded her state. "You are hurt, and I will help you. Will you allow it?" The clear accent spoke matter-of-factly but gently, all the same.
"What do you ask of me? What do you want for your help?" Talking was a great effort after having been choked, and her entire neck and jaw were throbbing and tender to the touch.
"Your trust." His reply was simple, and he waited only long enough to look over her clutching limbs and surmise a significant amount of damage before adding. "And you are in no state to decline my offer of aid."
Merely the nod of her head caused her to gasp in pain and that was enough permission for his arms to carefully take and hold her body against his darkly clad torso. Silent cries trembled from her chest and aggravated bruise and bone alike as they moved. With eyes pressed tightly shut, she did not see him watching her intently; studying her face and the agony she kept without wail or moan, though evidently a hard struggle. "What is your name, child?"
That accent pulled her briefly from the cloud of ruthless sensation and her eyes looked up miserably to meet his gaze. "Gaia."
He nodded enough to be a sort of greeting. "I am Khameir." The young woman tried to smile a little at the introduction but ended up grimacing instead, shutting her eyes once more and holding onto a gather of shirt at his shoulder. Carefully, he pulled her just close enough so that his cheek touched her brow, his beard gently mussing her hair, and began to sing a hushed song in Arabic as the moved through the back streets. After some minutes it soothed her breathing into a more steady rhythm and the man now and then added her name into the lyrics though she could not understand the words.
Gaia woke with the light coming through two balcony doors opened to a warm morning and light breeze. The shadow of a figure passed before her eyes and made her pause, blinking until the sleep had cleared away enough and she could see the outline of a broad, muscular back being covered again with a long sleeved shirt. Khameir. As if thinking of the name called him to her, she was soon met with a pair of green eyes looking to confirm that she was all right. A heavy hand rested for a moment on her brow in assessment before she was greeted with low-spoken instruction. "Your body will not feel all of its pain until the herbs' effects have passed. No matter how well you feel, you are not to leave the bed. You need the time to heal while I have it to give you."
"How much time? Are we leaving?" The hand that checked her for fever held her securely as she tried to shift positions in bed, reminding her of his strength and care the day before. Before the man could make a response to either question, Gaia added another. "Are you hurt? You fought a dozen armed men, were you not injured?"
His eyes crinkled in amusement and his smile curved bearded lips handsomely. The trimmed, dark blonde hair on his face seemed to make him harsh and gentle at the same time, a very human aspect to contrast his clean-shaven head. "I am unharmed, lovely one, but your concern is appreciated." Gaia smiled in response and self-consciously played fingers at her bruised throat, the subtle movement not going unnoticed, though he continued. "I have secured this apartment for two days more. After then, we will move somewhere out of reach of your pursuers and someplace safe for you to remain."
"Why have you helped me? I've never met you, and you don't owe me anything… I have so much to repay in thanks for what you've done." Her blue eyes followed him as he moved away, standing just beyond the reach of dawn's light, but looking out to it.
"No, we have never met before, and you can be sure you owe me no money or services for what I've done." He was quiet for a few beats until he turned his face back to the bed. "I saw you, when you served for _. He was harsh to you, drunk with power and his own drugs, and you bore his insults with grace. The other servants respected you, you protected them, and I watched you defy your master in their defense. Your actions were noble and he sent you to be raped and killed for it by a dozen of his dogs. I could not stand by when I had already admired your character and now could be of use to you."
"I cannot thank you enough." Her broken voice was quiet in its sincerity and clear eyes held his gaze a long moment before Khameir remembered to incline his head in welcome.
"Thank me by allowing your body to rest. Aside from your bruises, I had to suture the lashes on your back and sides, you will be very stiff through the healing."
Gaia winced to remember the stripes they had dealt her from _'s whip, and murmured a prayer of thanks for Khameir's pain soothing herbs. "When I am recovered enough you must come to me with anything I can do for you." She raised her hand when his body language made to protest her offer. "I may not owe you a debt in your eyes, but you have shown me great kindness and please do not consider it 'payment' when I can do anything at all to serve or aid you."
"It is not likely we shall meet again after I situate you somewhere to live… but I will consider your offer, and I thank you for it."
Khameir was quiet about himself, but they spoke candidly about many things, and he asked her much about herself to which she found no reason to be dishonest. He tended her hurts with care and precision, keeping his eyes focused on task and unwavering when only portions of her body could be covered to properly see the extent of her wounds. As large as his hands were, they were not fat or clumsy, but held the dexterity and strength that exuded the same experience every other aspect of the man did. Gaia grew fond of him in their frequent exchanges, appreciative of his care, but also his intelligence and forethought. Nothing was done that he did not anticipate and prepare for.
The time came to move her someplace permanent and she found he had made use of himself while she slept, making enquiries and stealthily securing finances that he had dispersed for such needs as this. He helped her walk down the stairs to a jeep where he placed her in the passenger seat and set her small bundle of clothes in her lap. There was a sadness in his eyes that she could not determine until he spoke across her to another man who now sat in the driver's chair. She looked quickly to Khameir, taking hold of his wrist so that he would not turn away. "You are not coming with me?"
"I trust this man, and he knows the family with whom you are to live. You will be safe." His eyes did not meet hers as he explained, but allowed himself be withheld by her smaller hand.
"You said it's not likely we shall meet again, now that…" Her weaker voice now faltered and unexpected emotion choked it. "How will I be of service to you, if this is the last we meet?" The small smile that touched her lips from their inside jest could not override the weight her eyes had taken with tears.
Slowly, Khameir lifted his hand that she clung to and touched the curls of brown on the side of her neck, making the eye contact he knew he shouldn't at such a departure. "Keep hidden, lovely one, and I will find you." The promise was what she needed to hear, and Gaia didn't realize until now how much she had come to depend on this man, to care for him. Khameir gently pulled his hand and brought their faces close so that more than their lips touched, as though every other touch of nose, cheek, and brow were all the caress they were allowed. He lingered longer than he should have, but kissed her again firmly before hitting the jeep with his other hand in signal to be off.
In pain, Gaia twisted in her seat to watch him standing behind, looking after her as the jeep took her away. "I love you, Khameir." Tears at last shook from her eyes with the words she breathed and the bumps in the road. He disappeared around the next turn and she prayed he would keep his promise and find her.
It was years later, when Gaia had been long enough employed as guardian to see those children grow into young adulthood, that a gust of frigid winter wind drew her attention to the dusky horizon. There was a figure, silhouetted against a darkening sky and almost obscured with a blizzard of snow between itself and the woman's eyes. Yet she could see enough to notice it stumble and fall, not rising again. Her feet were moving across the hard ground before she could make a sound of surprise; she had to help them, whoever it was collapsed out in the beginnings of this storm.
She called to them over the wind but there was no response and so she kept moving. Her little home had a fire going, it was warm, they would be taken care of and it would be all right. When her trembling hands pulled at the man's—for no woman or child could be so great in size—hood and coat to see his face she almost cried. "Khameir…" His head still shaven, but with scars added to the pale flesh, he could only be recognized by his eyes, little else visible from behind a frightening mask that held a grill of metal tubs and braces poised over his nose and mouth. The fastenings had been loosed and a few of the coils were jarred.
Gaia could hear his voice rasp through panting breaths and the synthetic trill the mask tinged the sound with. "So I have found you, lovely one." His accent was still clear, the wisdom in his voice that articulated each word. She even heard the fondness in his tone.
The tears froze quickly on her cheeks as she rushed to press her lips to his eyes and help him upright. He was stiff with pain and exhausted, hardly able to help her move him until she fetched a sled she used for firewood and laid him on it. Urgent in her movements, she pulled him to her small house and brought his hulking figure inside, he seemed even larger now than when they met so long ago. Gaia could hear the agony in his breathing, having felt such agony of her own, and felt the rattling hurt in his every motion to help her. What had happened to bring such a strong man to be so frail with pain? "Where are you hurt? What can I do?"
Khameir was draped rigidly on her bed— wide, but not long enough for his frame—and raised his hand to take hers so that it rested against the mask. "It is… damaged. The mask supplies medicine—"
Quickly taking the information and swallowing the horrible fact that such a contraption was necessary, Gaia took another look at the mask and began to mend it as carefully as what seemed needed. When the coils were screwed on securely and everything seemed back in place, the woman turned her attention to what other injuries he may have suffered. His coat was torn and thin, quickly removed along with his shirt, and beyond a days-old black eye and bruised ribs and knuckles she could find little else wrong with him. At length, his breathing seemed to steady and his shaking calmed now that he rested close to the fire and his wet clothes were either removed or drying.
She sat quietly on the edge of the bed and watched him, taking note of what had changed and what remained of the man who had saved her life years ago. There were frown lines in his brow, thickness and bulk had been added to the musculature of his body, and she couldn't tell if his beard remained beneath the mask, though when it had loosened she had seen the distinct tan-lines that belied just how long he had had to wear it. Where he had been and young and skilled man he was now full-grown and strong, old with years of experience but not aged enough to attach 'master' after his name. Gaia laid her hand lightly on his deep chest and felt him breathe for a while until his eyes opened and showed a bit of restoration in their color.
Those eyes softened when they found hers above him. "These years of peace have brightened your beauty." He spoke as though it was a pleasing fact, not merely his opinion, and it caused a flush to bloom on her cheeks. "Where are the children you care for?"
"The last of them have been grown for some months, now. A few traveled to college in the city, but the others work with their families here. I've no more little ones to keep." The smile she wore was sad but content. A child grows up and creates such a smile in their parent. "I have saved my earnings and go on errands for my neighbors and make barter enough for my needs."
Indeed the years had been much kinder to Gaia than his had been to him. His years had been filled with the Pit, training in the League, assassinations, and wars. Now exile. Khameir had not thought to find her, or that if he had, she would be happy with family and husband by now, having long forgotten him. But this, he was unsure now what he wanted. Gaia was independent, unattached, and happy… When she kissed his eyes after discovering him, he could not explain the precious surge of having returned that filled his spirit.
The silence between them now that she had spoken of her time was thick. What had befallen to Khameir and what he had done in his absence would be no pleasant thing to speak of. He watched her eyes sadden again and saw the first hint of anger in them as the gaze traveled to his mask again. With a breath she seemed to calm that sharpening edge and looked him in his eyes, her fingers hovering just over the lips that had once kissed hers, now hidden behind a composite grill. "What happened, Khameir?"
Khameir. He had long been without a name, and then given a new one. Khameir was a lifetime ago. "To speak of it would make you old." Tired eyes shut to stop the burn of wretched memory.
Her fingers stroked his head sweetly, edging around the straps over his ears and brow. "Then tell me quickly, while I am yet young." The lilting words drew a smile from her rescuer, though only his eyes betrayed the emotion. Gaia found herself quickly learning to read them, though, and now made a silent promise to perfect the art of reading his gazes.
"Yes, lovely one, you are still young yet. How young you were when I kissed you all those years ago…" Green eyes opened once more and stilled her with their intensity at his pause. "… You tasted of coffee."
Her hand now rested tremulously at the base of his neck and her voice was a breath, if a whisper. "Is it possible, now? Can you ever kiss me again?"
Now his hand rose to hold hers, and it enveloped the woman's fingers as they pressed to his chest. "It would be extremely painful… and you would take no pleasure, lovely one, in what my mouth has become."
"Tell me what happened."
Khameir was right to say it would not be a short story, and after a time they broke so that he could rest as he could, allowing Gaia to lie at his side and sleep with him. It was light through the cracks in her curtains when he roused, snow making the grey morning brighter. Gaia was no longer against him and he tensed before finding her across the house, busy cooking something at the wood stove and adding fuel to heat the house as well. "It is early." Morning found his voice hoarse from talking so late the night before, made rougher still when spoken through his mask.
The ugly sound could not deter the grin from gracing her face when she turned to look at him. "Yes, but you are hungry, and I needed to tend the fire." Her words were calm, her features pleasing, but he knew the mention of 'hunger' would begin again that discomfort of dealing with his deformity.
"And how do you know that I hunger, lovely one?" The way her eyes warmed to a clearer blue made talking worth the effort, if only to use his endearment.
Approaching him and kneeling at the bedside Gaia laid her hand on his abdomen, bulging muscles that quivered slightly at the touch. "I felt you. All night your belly begged me to feed it, and I awoke this morning to do so." There was a jest in her tone and his torso shook as he chuckled, covering her hand and letting her fingers lace through his like ivy around sturdy tree branches. The gesture he longed to do was claimed when she pulled his hand to press open palm on her lips, mouthing a kiss there that he felt through to the bone. Opening her eyes to meet his, Gaia shifted to rest her head in his grasp. "You do not have to show me your face, I will even go out to cut wood, or to check on my neighbors… but you must eat, Khameir. I feel you starving, you are weak no doubt from days of hunger and I have food prepared for you: eggs, and meal, and drink. Please."
His thumb caressed the face he had long dreamt of and considered her offer. "It is not pride, but fear that keeps me from wanting you to see… what I've become."
"Fear of what?"
Khameir could not meet her eye when he answered, ashamed of himself for feeling fear when he had spent years training himself against it. "That you will no longer see me as a man, but a monster, as they do." Forcing himself to focus on her, he opened his eyes and almost felt her pull the honesty out of him as a child would pull a string. "I do not care if people see a monster, believing that is all that I am… I know better. But you… my heart has remembered through all this time that what you see matters also in my eyes."
A gloss of tears had formed over her eyes as he spoke, her brows furrowing until they rose slightly at his confession. When his fingers caught a droplet against her cheek he watched her features settle into that of resolution, a low fire that when she stirred it, warmed him through. "What I see is that you are a man, and I am a woman. Where God has allowed misfortune to strike you, He has given you a helper. 'It is not fitting that man should be alone.' And I won't leave you."
The promise was hoped for, but unexpected, and he tightened his hold until she drew nearer. "You once offered me any help or aid you could in your power provide…"
"I did. And you once asked only for my trust in return for saving my life." There was a small smile in her eyes at the memory.
He nodded. "I did." Gradually, Khameir made to sit upright, slowly bringing his legs over the side of her cot and breathing deeply as he came face to face with his lovely one. With Gaia still on the floor, he guided her closer so that they breathed the same air and his knees supported his arms on either side of her. "The mask must be close at hand and I will breathe through it between eating." Showing her where it clasped around his head, his fingers instructed hers where to hold and where to loosen until all that remained were their hands keeping the grill over his nose and mouth. "I am a selfish fool."
Her questioning look was answered with his free hand tangling in her thick curls. "And why is that?"
"Because I would go without food if it meant I could taste the coffee on your tongue as once I did." Gaia's breath shuddered quietly in response. She smiled nervously, not for worry of seeing his face, but with the nerves that fill a woman before a kiss.
It was his hand that began pulling away the mask, never taking his eyes from hers, but it was she who leaned forward to put their faces gently together, simply breathing until soft lips touched what remained of his mouth in a careful caress. With wavering strength, Khameir pulled her tightly to him by her waist and pressed his mouth into hers with the desperation of a dying man. To feel her clinging to him, holding him steady and kissing him like a woman in love almost superseded the wellspring of pain that stemmed from his spine and through his body. It was a blurred, intense moment that represented well the last several years of his life: immense and excruciating pain, borne only through strength drawn from thoughts focused on this woman and the small pleasures she gave that somehow eclipse the agony in his mind.
Flushed and gasping out a hoarse cry when she parted from him, Khameir found his mask pressed again to his face by her trembling hands, allowing him to breathe once more. Gaia's arms cradled his head as he leaned forward, breathing shallowly as his strength returned, and resting his face at the hollow of her throat where her heart beat in his ear once his own began to quiet. Since her hands held his mask in place, he was free to move both of his to slide around her waist in a fast hold, only then realizing that her own breathing hitched and she was silently crying fallen on his neck. Murmuring lowly and breathlessly in Arabic, Khameir stroked slow drawings with his fingers into her back and sides, soothing her in return for the gift she had given him.
He ate in bursts, chewing with the mask pressed up to ventilate and praising her cooking with kind words and gazes. They finished after she made more of everything to satisfy him and Gaia was finishing the dishes when he managed to stand, soundlessly moving behind her so that his body pressed into her back warmly before she could turn. They melted comfortably together, embracing without words and touching everywhere possible, though Khameir kept the mask from touching her skin.
The top of her head nuzzled upward against his neck and sought higher until he pulled his head away. "No." Her murmured reproach stopped him and a gentle hand reached behind her to pull his head bowed beside her own. "I know what your mask holds, the nose that would breathe in my hair and the mouth that would kiss my neck. I am not afraid of it. Please, touch me as you would if you had no need of it." Gaia's voice coaxed him into a better position and he curled around her, pressing his face and the mask into her neck and shoulder where she held him.
"I am a dangerous man, an exile among assassins… and you treat me as you would a lover." His masculine voice vibrated pleasantly against her flesh and she leaned further into their embrace.
"Are we not lovers, Khameir?"
"Perhaps we are lovers, for no one has called me by that name for a decade. No one but you knows it, now."
"What are you called by?"
"In the Pit I could defend myself well enough, protect those that I deemed worthy. They called me 'Bane.' So Khameir was put away." Gaia turned in his grasp and laid her hands on his broad chest. "In answer to your first question… I do not take lovers." He paused to smooth a worry line from her fair brow, smirking down at her reaction. "But I shall be your Khameir, if you will have me for your husband.