Disclaimer: This is David and Leigh Eddings' sandbox. Menina and Afreet are just playing in it.

Technical Notes: The name "Afreet" is a variation on the word ifrit, which is an Arabic word for demon. I am basing the Rendorish culture on what little I know about the desert peoples. The Arcian will be based on the French, Italian and Spanish cultures.

Author's Notes: I vowed that I wouldn't post this until I had the entire story finished, but I just had to do it now. I first read The Elenium ten years ago, and thought Bevier was hot even then :D I would have loved to see him get together with Naween, the Cimmuran whore, but I couldn't figure out a way for that to happen so I made up Menina instead. I hope you enjoy the story! ~ Ara Kane

MY FAIR LADY

Chapter One

It was a sunny day in Arcium when Sir Bevier, Champion of the Cyrinic Order of Church Knights, parted ways with his fellow knights. From the capital city of Larium, he was going north to Catalum, his family's holding in the central region of the kingdom. Sir Sparhawk, Champion of the Pandion Order, and his family were riding westward to Elenia, where his wife Ehlana ruled as Queen. Sirs Tynian and Ulath, the Alcione and Genidian Champions, respectively, would be traveling with Sparhawk and his family before going home to their kingdoms further up north.

Perhaps another day's ride, two at most, Bevier thought as he watched the figures of his friends grow smaller and smaller before disappearing altogether. Another day or two and then he would be home. He would certainly miss his companions after all their adventures, but he was also looking forward to spending some quiet time with his family and catching up on his reading before duty called again.

The young knight ruefully eyed the sawed-off handle of his treasured Lochaber ax. Hopefully, there would also be time to restore his weapon of choice to its former glory.

As his gray stallion made its way toward Catalum, Bevier watched the golden fields and villages of the hinterlands give way to open countryside.

His heart rejoiced at the sight of the lush green carpet stretching for miles on either side of the road, dotted here and there with the red and gold wildflowers instead of pits made by the rocks thrown from catapults. The sky was a deep, beautiful blue, unsullied by smoke. There was nothing to rival Arcium during a peacetime spring.

Soon, the timeless majesty of the mountains would show themselves. The appearance of those mountains was the first sign that he was close to home.

* * *

Bevier clattered across the drawbridge of his family's seat in Catalum one bright, warm afternoon, after an uneventful two days on the road. Elag, the seneschal, was on hand to greet him. "Welcome home, my Lord," the sturdy middle-aged man said as he helped the young knight dismount. Waiting servants came forward to unload the saddlebags.

"Thank you, Elag," Bevier replied, handing his cloak and leather gloves to a nearby maid and stepping inside the castle. "How have things been here at Catalum?"

"Very well, my Lord. The peace has managed to hold and rents have never been higher."

"Good, good. And how is my mother?" Bevier's mother, the Dowager Viscountess Arda, had been left behind when he had been called away to join his brother Knights on a mission to the Tamul Empire. She was not very strong and he had been loath to leave her, but he was a Church Knight, and Church Knights — Cyrinics, especially — were known for their devotion to duty. "Does she fare any better?"

Had he been looking at Elag, he would not have missed the uneasiness that crossed the seneschal's face. "Ah, the Lady Arda fares well, my Lord. Better than well, in fact," the steward replied in a faintly wry voice.

"Splendid! Is Mother in her rooms?" the young knight asked as he strode down the corridor on the upper floor of the castle, toward the wing where his mother's rooms were located.

"I believe so, my Lord," Elag said, jumping forward when they reached the Lady Arda's door, "but perhaps you would like to refresh yourself first before presenting yourself to your lady mother?"

"If Mother is sleeping, I shall just look in on her," Bevier said, turning the latch quietly and pushing the door open, all the while wondering why the older man looked so alarmed. "I will not—"

Presently, there were shrieks, gasps and a small splash. "My Lord!" female voices cried. Maids scurried to shield the bathtub and its occupant from his eyes, but not before he caught a glimpse of wide green eyes, fiery red hair, bare golden shoulders. Definitely not his mother.

He flushed and spun around as the Dowager Viscountess Arda strode into the room. "Mother!"

"Dear, dear Bevier! You've come home!" she said, taking his hands in hers and beaming at him. A twinkle appeared in her eye when she took in his red face and glanced over his shoulder at the maids still clustered in her chamber. "I see you have met Menina."

* * *

He was formally presented to their unexpected houseguest at supper that evening. "Good evening, Mother," Bevier greeted Arda, rising to his feet as she entered the dining room with the redheaded young woman at her side.

"Hello, Bevier," his mother replied with a bright smile. "It's a lovely evening, is it not?"

"Not as lovely as you are, my Lady," he told her affectionately. She had never looked better, and he would have remarked on it earlier if he had not encountered her new friend first.

"You always were a sweet boy," she said, patting his freshly-shaven cheek. "Now, my dear, I have someone here I want you to meet. This is Menina, your cousin Lilear's stepdaughter, come to live with us."

Bevier blinked as Menina came forward. Lilear's stepdaughter! Lilear was only a few years older than he was. How could his cousin's stepdaughter be so…grown?

She was tall for a woman, and carried her height proudly. Her vivid hair was pulled back neatly from a heart-shaped face and she was clad in an ivory brocade gown that Bevier recognized as his mother's.

"Menina," the dowager viscountess went on, "this is my son Bevier."

Arda nudged her gently and Menina sketched a curtsy. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my Lord," she said in faintly accented Elenic. This man was so clearly the dowager viscountess' son, she thought. Although he stood a head above his mother, he had her upright bearing and dark eyes. Stepfather was older and stockier, but the two men had the same swarthy skin and curly, blue-black hair.

Her curtsy was stiff, and those new-leaf eyes never left his face as was proper, but she was a woman and a guest and one was always courteous to both. "My Lady," Bevier murmured with a fluid formal bow. Perhaps she did not know any better and had to be shown how things were done. "The pleasure is all mine."

Arda beamed. "Now that you are properly acquainted, my son, you may escort us to dinner."

"She is Lilear's stepdaughter?" Bevier asked his mother when they had been seated.

"Yes, my Lord," Menina said before the older woman could answer, "I am." She did not know how things were done in Arcium, but she was raised to believe that it was rude to talk about a person as if he (or she) was not there.

"Her mother was quite a bit older than Lilear, my dear," Arda explained gently.

"Where did my cousin meet your mother?" Bevier asked, addressing the younger woman directly this time. When they had last heard from him, Lilear had been in Rendor.

"They met in Rendor," Menina replied. "My mother, brother and I belong to the Maranatoi. Stepfather was traveling with a trade caravan buying some of our tribe's horses, and when the caravan went on their way, he stayed behind."

An older woman belonging to a tribe of Rendorish horse breeders! He supposed he should not have been surprised. Lilear had that reckless streak that flared up in the family at times, going off to goodness-knew-where to seek his fortune instead of entering his novitiate with the Cyrinic Order as young noblemen were wont to do.

Nevertheless, despite that and the fact that Bevier had traveled with very worldly companions for many years, Bevier was shocked at his cousin's highly unconventional marriage. His expression must have betrayed this, because Menina's eyes flashed and her expression hardened. "They were married in the Elene faith," she said defensively. "Stepfather insisted and we all converted because Mother loved him."

At least he did not neglect that detail. "Why are…your parents…not with you?" he asked in what he hoped was a gentler tone. If the woman raised her chin any more, she would be looking up at the ceiling.

There was a brief silence. Menina's chin raised another fraction and she set her jaw to contain its trembling. "I have no one now," she finally replied in a stiff voice.

"No one?" Bevier repeated.

"No one," Arda replied on her behalf. The older woman's eyes filled with tears and Menina fought the stinging in her own eyes. "The poor dear."

Her host paled as her meaning dawned on him. "Not even Lilear?"

"No one," Menina confirmed. Her hands were clasped together in her lap so tightly that it hurt. The pain was only slightly less than the overwhelming loneliness that had plagued her since she left Rendor.

"Good God." Bevier pushed away his soup, his appetite gone. He felt as if the hook point of his Lochaber was buried in his heart. Lilear had been rash, negligent of his studies and somewhat less devout than he should have been, but he had been a good man and a good friend. Bevier would miss him.

"Lilear told Menina stories about Arcium, Bevier," his mother told him gently, reaching out to touch his arm. "After she lost her family, Menina left her tribe and decided to come look for us. We are all she has now."

* * *

And so it was that the family gained a new member.

Arda was delighted when Bevier, as head of the family, gave Menina his official permission to stay in Catalum. The two women had apparently grown very close during his absence, Bevier reflected as he sat in his study the next morning, going over the estate's account books.

Perhaps it was all for the best. With Menina around, his mother would have someone to keep her company when he was called away again on Church business.

Bevier ran his quill down a list of figures and turned the page. He looked longingly at the book-filled shelves running the entire length of the wall behind him, then shook his head resolutely and went back to the accounts.

He was then distracted by the sound of hoof beats in the garden outside the study, followed by feminine voices and applause.

Bevier frowned when the hoof beats began again, then shut the account book with a thump when he heard horrified squeals and louder applause. He rose and then strode to the window for a better look.

Someone was galloping a large black horse over the meticulously manicured lawn. More squeals arose when powerful animal jumped over a hedge.

He saw that his mother was sitting in the shady part of the garden, a mercifully safe distance away from the action. Arda's maids surrounded her, but there was not a red head among them. Bevier then noted that the horse's rider was dressed not in Elene clothing, but in the flowing robes favored by the desert peoples of Rendor. "Good God!"

He tore out of the study, then sprinted down the stairs and toward the garden. He emerged in time to see the stallion gallop by with Menina standing balanced on its bare back. "Mother!" Bevier exclaimed as he joined his mother and her ladies. "What in heaven's name is going on?"

"Oh, hello, my dear," the dowager viscountess greeted him with a smile as sunny as that day's weather. "We are watching Menina exercise her horse." She gave a cry of delight when the young woman slid off the horse's back and rode between its galloping legs. "Ooh, that is my very favorite trick. Is it not grand?"

"Marvelous," he replied in a strained voice, resisting the urge to run the animal down and drag its rider off it. She obviously knew what she was doing. If only it did not look so deuced dangerous!

He slapped himself mentally. Stop using such language!

Bevier stood rooted to the spot for the rest of the spectacle. He took a strangled breath, realizing only then that he had been holding it, when she was finally seated properly on the horse and the animal had slowed to a trot.

The black horse came to a stop before them and at his rider's prompting, bending his forelegs in a bow. Bevier remembered seeing the same trick performed by the horses of the Domi Kring and his tribe.

Menina leapt off her mount to wild applause from the women. Her bright hair tumbled down as she doffed her headscarf the way a street urchin would his cap.

"You were wonderful, Menina!" Arda cried, clapping. "Bevier thought so, too, did you not, my son?"

"Er, yes," he stammered. "Very…very nice."

"He said you were 'marvelous,'" his mother told the younger woman.

Menina smiled up at him, her face flushed and eyes bright with triumph and exercise. "My Lord is too kind," she replied modestly. Then her expression changed and she scowled over her shoulder. "Afreet!" she said severely. The horse, which had been terrorizing the grooms, promptly quieted and allowed them to lead it back to the stables.

"She has a way with horses," Arda said. "It must be characteristic of all the Maranatoi. Did you see her on Afreet, Bevier? They were moving as if they were one being! Oh, it set my heart to racing!"

Bevier rounded on his mother. "Your heart is racing?" he asked sharply. "Mother, you must lie down immediately! Are you dizzy? On the verge of swooning? Do you need a physician? Some ice?"

"I did not mean that kind of racing," she told him, dismissing his concern with a stately wave of her hand. "Calm down, Bevier, I'm perfectly fine. I meant that Menina's tricks with her horse are most exciting, that's all. Now, I believe I shall go inside. Gigette, go on ahead and tell Cook I would like a cool drink. The lemon water, if he has it," she called after the maid.

He watched with concern as another maid helped his mother back into the castle. She did not seem to have been taxed by all the excitement, thank God. Bevier then turned to Menina, who had been standing with him all the while. "My mother should not be overset like that," he said with a severe look. "It is bad for her health."

Her green eyes widened, startled, at the chill in his voice. "I do not ask her to watch me, my Lord," Menina replied politely, "and she is free to stop when she feels that the excitement is getting too much for her. I trust your mother enough to set her own limits."

"Her limits have been set long ago by people who know better than you. Reading, sewing, playing music, and an occasional walk around the garden. That is all that is allowed her."

Menina looked slightly abashed, but then her chin raised defiantly. "Well, then," she replied, sounding a little more tart, "we might have a bit of a problem, because I do not read, sew or play music."

"If you expect to stay on here at Catalum, you will learn how."

"Does this mean, my Lord, that I can no longer exercise Afreet?"

He had forgotten about the horse. It was a prime specimen and it would be a shame if the animal grew fat and lazy. "I shall exercise him."

She had the audacity to smirk. "Then I wish you the best of luck."

* * *

Arda did not take Bevier's new set of rules very well. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded when she stormed his study barely an hour after Menina's spectacle. "You are barring me from watching Menina ride her horse? You are barring Menina from riding?"

Bevier looked up from the book he was reading. He had never seen his mother look so incensed in over twenty years. "It is for your own good, Mother," he told her. "Remember, Doctor Boutin said you were to avoid getting too excited. It is bad for your heart."

"Nonsense," the dowager viscountess snapped. "Everyone needs a bit of excitement every now and then and I am perfectly capable of handling the excitement of watching Menina on a horse. Besides, where is Doctor Boutin now, Bevier?" she continued. "He is dead. He died while you were in Matherion. I expect he died of boredom."

"You will not die of boredom if you don't watch Menina and that horse, Mother. There are many other things for you to do."

"But everything I want to do is forbidden by you and the late Doctor Boutin!" She sent a glacial look down her nose at her son. "You have not heard the last of this from me, Bevier. We shall talk of this again soon." With that, she swept grandly from his study, slamming the door behind her.

Arda continued to glare daggers at him all through the rest of the day, while Menina looked on in quiet amusement. Unlike his mother, the younger woman accepted the new restrictions without a single word of protest. Instead, whenever Bevier looked at her, she favored him with a sweet smile.

It was as if she had something up her sleeve.

* * *

He found out what it was the very next morning: besides Menina, Afreet would allow none other to mount him.

The moment he found out who awaited him in the corral outside the stables, the black stallion whinnied angrily and shied, scaring the grooms. "What are you waiting for?" Bevier ordered. "Slip the harness over his head!"

"We can't, milord!" the head groom protested. "I swear the beast is possessed! He's tryin' to kill us!"

Indeed, without Menina present to control him, Afreet was uncontrollable, threatening to bite or kick anyone brave enough to come near. And if administered by an animal as big as himself, the injuries could be lethal.

To his credit, Bevier tried his best to curb Afreet. He remained even after all the grooms had fled, ordering the beast to calm down, then later trying to grab its reins and jump onto its back. But the black stallion refused to obey and eluded capture, galloping around and around the corral before tiring of the game. As Bevier watched, sweaty, dusty and disgruntled, Afreet trotted back into the stables with a flippant swish of his tail in farewell.

Then, as luck would have it, the first person he met back in the castle was Menina. Unlike him, she looked fresh, clean and cheerful in a gown of pale yellow. "Back so soon, my Lord?" she asked mildly. Her eyes flicked to the hoofprint decorating the front of his doublet. "How was your exercise with Afreet?"

"Just fine, thank you," he replied.

Menina smiled. She knew her horse, and judging from Bevier's appearance, it seemed not to have gone well, but the man's lofty expression told her that he was not about to tell her so. "I am happy to hear that Afreet has taken to you," she told him. "He is usually not very accepting of strangers." She put a finger to her chin and assumed a thoughtful expression. "Indeed, he is usually not very accepting of anyone at all. It was quite a task, training him. That is why we named him 'Afreet' — it is Rendorish for 'demon,' you know."

Bevier's dark eyes flashed, but his voice remained even. "Yes, he is a very spirited animal," he agreed. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must get cleaned up for afternoon services. You will be attending chapel, will you not?"

"Most certainly, my Lord," Menina replied, calmly meeting the challenge in his voice. "It is, after all, the…proper thing to do."