Well, third story… I totally fell in love with Zolm/Tamina pairing. Really, they are HOT. Also, watch out for definition:
Hassansins- A sect of murderous Arab's living during the Catholic Crusades. They were brutal murderers renowned not only for their brutal and cruel murders of Catholics, but in celebrating each kill with a drug using frenzy. Their drug of choice: Hashish. Over time, as all things do, the word evolves. It is now pronounced: assasin.
Sounds serious.
Also, sorry for my grammar, I'm not a native speaker.
Lust is a mad adventure -
a struggle in the streets
Escape is a waltz with the clouds,
steps that vanish on the feathers of a dove
Gossip all the time
unless we drain it
from our blood
Adrenaline overwhelms us
when we're impaled by desire
Can you unveil my palm
without a kiss
or a bomb?
Tap... tap... tap...
From now on, no gates
to this city
Fatena Al-Gharra – Movements
1.
I shouldn't have stared this way, really, but the woman who entered was simply breathtaking. As a servant I got to know a bunch of people; but believe me, I've rarely seen such a pretty face. Well, she probably had an appointment – I don't think it was a friendly one, her face impulsed great ravagement- she looked round before walking toward me.
"Excuse me, I would like to talk to your customers."
All thirty, newly washed plates shattered on the floor. My wife shouted something, but I ignored as thoughts filled my brain. (Are you mad? I think you're wrong, there are no customers here. Do you have a suicidal aptitude? Go home and grow up!) But instead, I tried to hide my shaking hands and nervously smiled at her.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you are talking about," I congratulated myself, but the face of the woman loured.
"I know that the Hassansins dwell here," she omitted as I let the remaining plates fall. "Now stop waisting my time, and lead me there!"
(Of course, Highness, added my brain sarcastically) I left everything on the floor and lowered my voice.
"Listen to me, my dear," the beauty pressed her lips with frustation. "You should not go there, believe me, please," I cutted her before she started protesting. "Strange things happen here, horrible disappearances and sometimes I hear voices. These man," I pointed at the door." Are heartless murderers, I don't even think they are alive, but some vindictive ghost from the past…"
She looked at me thoughtfully, before asking me again to lead her to the depth of the den.
2.
The lair was dark and - despite the hot summer outside- deadly cold. The only object which provided warm and a fuzzy light was a semi-burnt torch strongly attached to the walls. A raven croaked near the window-shaped hole as a trembling asian man stepped in the room.
He looked around, while he lifted his arms up.
"I'm a messenger from the sacred city of Alamut, therefore I shall remain unharmed and untouched…"
The end of the sentence was finished by several knives coming out from the dark, and the asian man fell on the floor, dead.
A man stepped out from the dark with his companion; and within a minute they found the message. The first smiled knowingly.
"What do you think, Setam?"
Setam face darkened as he watched the other trying to open up the parchment. He tore it out from his hands and cursed in arabic.
"What do you think you're doing, Ghazab?" he spat, "Zolm will kill us for this!"
Ghazab's face reddened.
"Are you with him? He lost his royal dog who supplied us with the hashish, and without that we are blind!"
"Do you want to say something about my leadership?" a quiet voice demanded from the opposite corner of the room.
Both of them bowed until the ground, and the third man stepped forward.
As the light illuminated him, the main characteristic of his face became visible. The man had a scarred, and deathly pale face which had a sharp contrast with his black clothes and his intensive blue eyes.
"That is for you," said Ghazab without looking up, "The messenger came from the Sacred City."
The leader took away the parchment, his eyes on him.
Prince Dastan is in Alamut. He will be leaving by the day after tommorrow, at dawn. The princess is alone. Fifty guards. The Dagger is at the centre, in the highest room. She will deliver it with her husband in Persia.
Ghazab gulped and prayed to the nameless gods for aid.
3.
"And this is for my beautiful wife."
Tamina smiled as Dastan offered her a rare flower from Persia, still white and fresh. Her husband prepared to leave Alamut within an hour, but they still lay in their bed, too hesitant to part.
"You know, it is rude to leave two days after the honeymoon," pointed out Tamina. "Can't you just manage your Empire's trouble from here?"
"Wish I could," agreed Dastan, while stroking her bare shoulders. "It's not my life anyway: business, money and noble talking in silly silk costumes… Tus is better in that."
Tamina understood his concern; he was trying to be with his brothers, for a little time not in a bloody battle, but in a calm meeting. Though for Dastan it costed a three day journey, and to parade in a "silk costume".
His voice dragged her back in reality.
"Promise me to be careful and…"
She laughed loudly and kissed him before he could finish.
"We are both perfect in that, don't you agree?" Dastan just shook his head, smiling.
4.
She had a horrible anticipation in the very time Dastan left.
Tamina tried to shake these feelings out of her body, but the seed of that illness remained in her very soul. In the corner of her eyes, she could always sense someone watching her every move, and gods help her, she will go mad, if it's not going to stop. The rest of the day passed uneventfully; she reported to the council, finished some work in her room, prayed, and took a walk in the garden.
It was almost midnight when one of her servant called her in.
As usually, they washed her face from the kohl and henna; she changed to her white nightgown then requested the servants to leave her.
And that's when she heard him stepping out behind the window.
She had to force herself back from screaming and keeping her face neutral, so she simply stepped beside the mirror. He was just as she remembered; cicatrized face with strangely burning eyes. Zolm – the murderer, the hassansin, the ghost- trailed his eyes across her room.
"Get out," she snapped with a suprisingly firm voice. "You have no right to be here. We agreed that the exchange will take place the next day, but not here."
He noticed Dastan's flower, and she took an unintentional step forward to save the plant.
"Believe me, princess," he answered slowly, and she watched with silent horror as Zolm played with the flower between his fingers. "That I wouldn't have come if something strange did not happen."
"Really?" Tamina gave a grimace and fold her hands.
"It's a letter," said the hassansin, his face somehow amused, but Tamina couldn't really tell, because his voice was monotone. "To your husband from you. Shall I read it?"
Tamina became paler than him, and she gasped when Zolm started to approach.
She was pressed to the wall before she could normally react, the hassansin hands on her face and hands. He smelled of sand, blood, and some deep narcotic she couldn't identify.
"Did you think I'm a fool?" His breathe was cold and Tamina tried not to stare at his scar.
"Did you think I'm fool enough to give you the Dagger?" she wanted to laugh, but in this position, she didn't dare."Do whatever you want with your men or with your reptiles, you cannot make me talk."
Zolm smiled; and in that way he was more terrifying than before. He leant closer to Tamina's hands and without any warning or word, he licked her opened palm. She jumped; the sensation sent a shiver down her spine, and unfortunately not because of anger or hate. Tamina blushed furiously as she tried to free her hands.
"You disgusting, calculating son of a…"
"That's not the way a royal lady should speak," he was definitely amused by now, his eyes dark with pleasure. "Do you know what hassansins learn for the first time?"
Tamina did not answer.
Once again, he leant forward, his mouth close to her neck.
"We learn that some segment of the body can bleed easier, so if we cut the arterial part," he bit on her pulse, then his mouth trailed to her face and ear. "Our prey will die within minutes."
Meanwhile she started to think swiftly, trying every escape plan she ever created, but Zolm was taller than her (taller than Dastan actually) and his grip was strong. But, what if she joins the game and tries to play her part? Hassansins are usually with weapon…
Tamina suddenly put her free hand on his shoulder.
Zolm became immobile, his face suddenly neutral, but his eyes unmistakably curious. She rolled her hands delicately all along his face and slowly started to unfold the black material. He had dark hair which was already sweatened, but he was still looking like the death himself. Tamina tried to put a soft look on her face, while she grasped his hand and kissed it.
A moment later, she realized that it was the worst idea ever.
It seemed, that hassansins didn't really care for softness or nice gestures. Zolm attacked her skin with ferocity, his eyes shone darkly as his hands tore the thin nightgown opening the view to Tamina's creamy flesh. It was incredible really, she started too tearing his clothes, and in some points she enjoyed it, knowing that the end will be painful for the other. When she tore his cloak, pale, charred skin was revealed down to his chest, where it was ended in a tiny scratch. She grabbed his shirt…
And felt a knife.
It was there, and in the silence, she could fell his heartbeat (he is alive, he is human, he is a man) and her own, which beat in her throat. She made a calming gesture, then drew out the knife – Zolm swiftly clutched his hand around her throat- pointing it to the hassansin's neck.
"How clever," he said, his voice hoarse. "And what now?"
"I tell you what now," said Tamina with a cool glance. "You get out of here before I cut your head off and present it to my husband, or you can stay and wait while Alamutian guards drag you to a cell to rot away."
"Then I tell you my version, priestess," he was once again neutral. "You bring me the Dagger next week, or I give you another visit, with blood."
She spat, as he gathered his clothes, and within a minute, he disappeared in the night.
5.
"Not again," I sighed as I saw the woman once again, her face held up with dignity. "I thought I would never see you again, my dear."
The beauty looked at me, her eyes shining with sadness and disappointment.
"Can you deliver a message for your customer?"
I pouted and shivered at the thought, but looking at the young lady wake the sympathy up in my soul. I nodded.
"Tell him," and suddenly, her face was full of disgust and desperation." That he will never get what he want. Never."
Ugh. That girl really has a suicidal aptitude.
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