From the very first moment Lawrence had laid eyes on Sherif Ali ibn el Kharish, he had hated the man. There had never been any other option, not after he had shot and killed Tafas.

But it went deeper than that. He just had an air about him. That smile on his face when he told Lawrence he was welcome to the well. The way he borrowed Lawrence's cup, declaring "I will use it," with a tone as though he were bestowing some great favor upon the Englishman by doing so. How pleased he looked that Lawrence had heard his name before. But most of all the way he simply refused to be flustered by anything Lawrence said. That insufferable smirk of his drove Lawrence crazy. He wanted to punch it off the Harith's face.

Unfortunately, it wasn't likely he would ever get the chance. It wouldn't be very good for English-Arab relations if he went around hitting one of Prince Feisal's top men. Still, a man could dream.

Things didn't go much better at their second meeting. At least no one died this time. But for some reason, Ali wasn't nearly so cordial. He seemed extremely resentful of Lawrence's presence there. Distrustful, perhaps. Well, Lawrence wasn't there to please him. Actually, if he managed to irritate Ali now and again, so much the better, in his opinion.

But he had to solve Feisal's problem. That was the issue, first and foremost. Lawrence sat up all night, wracking his brain. He was vaguely aware that he had two shadows, the boys who had been tailing him the entire trip there, but he had no time to spare for them now. It wasn't until dawn that he finally had a solution fully mapped out in his head.

"Aqaba."

Ali was on his feet in an instant, shock in his eyes. "You are mad!"

Lawrence couldn't deny that he took great pleasure in the expression on Ali's face. Maybe the judgement in his voice should have been upsetting but instead Lawrence felt an overwhelming sensation of almost….pride? Was it pride? He dared to do something Ali did not. Yes, he would wipe all traces of the smugness from their encounter at the well right off that bastard's face.

Ali agreed to the mission, as Lawrence knew he would. Say what you would about the man, he didn't lack courage, and above all else, he was devoted to Feisal and the cause; Lawrence had to give him that. But he would award the Harith nothing else.

Several days into the journey, Lawrence realized just how over-confident he had been. Ali had been right: the Nefud was worse than anything Lawrence had ever experienced, and this was coming from a man who put out matches with his bare fingers for fun. Yet Ali was unfazed, at least outwardly. While this made perfect sense (Ali had been born in Arabia, grown up here), it still frustrated Lawrence more than he could say.

The crowning failure was when Ali caught him asleep on his camel during the day's ride. He was rudely awakened by a sharp thwap as Ali hit him with his riding crop. His cheeks burned with humiliation. To be caught sleeping by Ali after all of his boastful words…..it was mortifying. He tried to deny it, but Ali saw right through him, so he gave in and admitted to his transgression, submitting to Ali's scolding. The smug bastard.

Well, two could play at this game. Lawrence simply refused to let it get to him, doubling down on his casual air, even going so far as to tell Ali that he would wake him up when it was time to resume their travels (that got under Ali's skin, he could tell). Still, despite all this feigned indifference, he couldn't hide his relief when they had finally crossed the Sun's Anvil safely.

Until he realized that Gasim was missing. Then, despite the weakness overwhelming his body, despite the fact that he was on the verge of collapse, he knew he had to go back. This was his fault. He had brought these men here. He was responsible for them. The point was driven home by Ali as he hissed "Gasim you have killed already!"

The words stung. He didn't want them to be true. He refused to let them be true. So he ignored the screaming pain, the exhaustion, ignored Ali, and turned back towards the Sun's Anvil.

If there was one thing that made leaving that much easier, it was Ali's reaction. At Lawrence's words, his actions, Ali positively exploded. Lawrence couldn't help but find it a bit amusing, and it gave him the tiny surge of strength he needed to return to the burning heat of the Anvil.

He had truly never doubted finding Gasim, or making it back. What he hadn't expected was the expression on Ali's face. The shock, quickly melting away into….respect? He had never thought to see Ali look at him that way. For some reason, it made his heart beat faster, pounding away for no reason he could understand. Then they were face to face, and Ali was smiling as he offered the skin of water. Lawrence had never seen him smile. He couldn't help thinking how lovely it was.

And then Ali offered up his own bed. It seemed impossible, but he did. Lawrence tried to remove his jacket, fingers trembling, but he was so exhausted, and the cot looked so inviting. He collapsed, face first, immediately taking in the scent of Ali lingering on the blanket. He only had time to notice how pleasant the smell was before he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Waking that night was strange. His body felt so weak and it took a moment to remember why. Then his long ride to rescue Gasim came flooding back, along with the memory of Ali, the way he had looked at Lawrence…those eyes….

He realized with a start of surprise that Ali was a mere foot or so away, and those very eyes were staring intently at him right that moment. It was startling, but not unpleasant. Though not as pleasant as the way Ali's face was glowing. Ali had never looked at him that way before. There was a softness to his face that had never before been there when he had spoken to Lawrence. To his men, to his camel…..those he cared about, Lawrence realized, with dawning shock. He accepted the food that Ali called for, only realizing as he began to eat just how hungry he was.

"El Aurens…"

His gaze snapped up, astonished to hear that "El", that term of respect, given to him by Ali. But the smile on Ali's face was equally surprising.

"Truly, for some men nothing is written unless they write it."

The words melted his heart. Still, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Not 'El Aurens'," he corrected. "Just Lawrence."

Ali wasn't deterred by the correction. "El Aurens is better."

Lawrence had to concede the point, nodding. "True."

Silence fell between them as Lawrence shoveled as much food in as quickly as possible. God, he was hungry. Ali was still watching him, but for some reason, it wasn't making him uncomfortable. When at last the Harith spoke up, his tone was curious.

"Your father too, just Mr. Lawrence?"

Oh God. Suddenly he wasn't so hungry anymore. Lawrence leaned back against the saddle resting beneath his head. "My father is Sir Thomas Chapman."

"Is that a Lord?"

"A kind of a Lord."

"Then when he dies, you too will be a Lord."

Ali sounded pleased, almost proud. And despite the fact that up until several hours ago, the two of them hadn't been getting along, Lawrence hated to disappoint him. "No," he said softly.

"Ah. You have an elder brother." Ali's voice was sympathetic. Lawrence could almost laugh at the situation were it not so horribly awkward, so painful.

"No." He prayed that Ali would just figure it out and let the matter drop.

No such luck.

"But then….I do not understand this….your father's name is Chapman-"

Lawrence cut him off. "Ali. He didn't marry my mother."

Ali was very silent. Lawrence couldn't look at him, didn't want to see what sort of expression he was wearing now. "I see." Whatever that tone was in his voice, Lawrence couldn't read it.

"I'm sorry." His voice was a whisper, though he didn't know why. It was nothing to be ashamed of, yet for some reason, he didn't want to disappoint Ali.

After several more agonizing minutes, Ali broke the silence, his voice gentle. "It seems to me that you are free to choose your own name, then."

The words were completely unexpected. Lawrence looked at Ali in surprise. Those dark eyes were smiling softly at the Englishman.

"Yes," he managed, "I suppose I am."

Ali smiled. "El Aurens is best."

Lawrence could feel the heat rise in his face, warmth flooding his entire body. His heart began to beat so fast he thought Ali would hear it for sure. He wondered if the Harith had any idea what an enormous gift he had just given.

"Alright," he whispered. "I'll settle for 'El Aurens."

With that, Aurens rolled over, turning away before Ali could see the happy tears filling his eyes. But that didn't stop him from feeling it as Ali tugged the blanket up over him, tucking him in. A happiness he had never known overwhelmed him, making him feel safe and loved, wrapping him tightly in its warm embrace until he fell into the first truly peaceful sleep he had ever known.

~tbc~