Regina was pushed back onto her butt as the force of the sandstorm howled into their small valley, shrieking like a dying animal. Regina covered her ears and winced, the sound only letting up as the heavy tent door flapped closed. She quickly closed the fastenings so no sand would enter the tent. The sides of the tent beat like the humming bird's wings that had lived in the garden of her villa at home. Suddenly Regina was scared when the Swan failed to appear at the door. He should be here by now, she thought. There was a huge thump outside the tent, and suddenly Ro's head was pushed underneath the tent. The horse was screaming in fear. Regina quickly crawled to the animal and bent low to his ear, cooing soft words and stroking his muzzle to calm him. There was another identical thump, and a few seconds later, the head of the Swan's horse was with them as well. With Ro partially calm, Regina scooted till she sat between the animal's heads, stroking them both. With the shrieking of wind, the tent flap flew open as the Swan practically dove inside, quickly closing it behind him.
He was panting hard, and reaching up under his mask to wipe his eyes. "I was beginning to worry." Regina spoke over the wind. The figure looked up, the dark orbitals that were the mask's eyes staring deeply at her. She did not look away. Without a reply the Swan stuck their hand out of the tent and pulled the saddlebags in, unrolling some mats for them to sit on. "Thank you, for what you did." Regina added quietly.
"Your welcome." They sat there in silence, listening to the wind, the horses nickering from time to time, until Regina broke it. "What is your horses name?" The Swan glanced up at her. "Mine's is Rocinante. It means workhorse. "
"Jamakh. It means greatest cause."
"That is an interesting name. Why did you pick it?" The Swan remained silent. Regina huffed. "Listen, Swan, we are going to have to get to know each other sometime. We are on a long journey, there could be more sandstorms on the way, and we are going to be living in the same palace anyway. I'm not trying to dig up your secrets, I just want to put a human behind that mask."
"Why?" Because I want you to trust me, she thought.
"I need a friend. I'm all alone out here." She said.
"It's interesting you want the renowned Greek killer as your friend." The Swan replied.
"Beggars can't be choosers." Regina replied with a wry smile. There was a small chuckle.
"I have an idea. We get to ask each other five questions that we would like to know about the other. We must answer truthfully. However, I reserve the right to not answer a question if I deem it to be pertaining to my identity. Hopefully this will end your incessant questions."
"I'll play your little game, but only if I have the same right." Regina crossed her legs and sat facing the Swan.
"Ladies first." The Swan said.
"What is your favorite color?" Regina asked. There wasn't even a pause.
"Yellow." She raised a questioning eyebrow, the Swan laughed. "Not the ugly kind, the sunset kind—and that counts as your second question. What's yours?"
"Greenish blue, like the ocean." Regina felt that the Swan was slightly startled by the honest answer...even if it was only a simple question.
"Your turn again." The Swan said.
"What is the breed of your horse?" Regina asked.
"An Akhal-Teke, they are very fast and built for the desert. Quite an old breed common in the upper classes. He could run two days without water. Your favorite food?"
"A seasoned lamb, with herbs, greens, and a good wine."
"What is your type, Swan?" There was confused silence. Regina sighed. "Type of woman, you idiot." The Swan was quiet for a moment, then they leaned in, close to her face.
"Brunette Greeks." The husky whisper caressed her skin like lover's fingertips. It was Regina's turn to heat up at the cheeks, a small surprised gasp hissing through her teeth. Was he teasing her? It was hard to tell with a mask. "And yours?" She cleared her throat. She suddenly couldn't look at him.
"Not Persians." The Swan just chuckled and leaned back. Regina bit her lip, intent on her next question.
"I've talked to many of your men…but not you…"
"About what?"
"Your opinion on Leopold." Regina replied, blunt as a hammer. There was a heavy silence. The mask was tilted away from her toward the ground, hiding.
"Pass." The Black Swan answered. Regina smirked.
"By not answering you still answer what I want to know."
"Pass, Regina." The Greek sighed, swishing her hair disappointedly.
"As you wish. I'm ready to answer yours."
"Why does your mother not accompany us?" Regina looked up sharply into black holes. There was a low metallic chuckle. "Didn't think I noticed? I bet she was absent that day on the steps of the temple as well." Regina twirled her thumb around her mother's ring absentmindedly, thinking carefully on what she was going to say.
"Our relationship has always been strained, especially since my father's passing. He was the only thing that kept us from each other's throats. She will arrive a couple days before the wedding."
"I'm sorry to hear that, and for your loss." You killed him you bastard.
"Thank you. Where did you grow up?"
"The desert." Regina rolled her eyes. "A fortress in the dessert." The Swan amended their statement.
"Better. Your last question?" Regina asked.
"Why leave?" Regina raised an eyebrow. "You were practically a queen in Athens. You commanded those around you and were respected. You were not hated for your magic, nor surrounded by strangers. Now you cross the desert risking death to marry a stranger king three times your age to rule over a people who will only spit on you. Why?"
"Well that's an optimistic view on my future reign. A little preemptive, don't you think?"
"No."
"I will answer your question, if you do not pass my last question." There was a long pause.
"Fine."
"Something has drawn me here, something I must follow."
"What?" Regina smiled.
"I haven't figured that out yet." She replied, staring directly into the mask, her dark eyes piercing. The Black Swan cleared their throat uncomfortably.
"What is your last question?" Regina hummed.
"I know you led the last attack on the Ionian Rebellion." The Swan did not deny it. "What did you feel after you won? Victory? Bloodlust? What does a warrior feel after slaughtering a whole city in one night?" Regina asked, her voice ice cold in a hissed whisper.
"Nothing." Regina reeled back in shock, that was not what she had expected to hear. "Their cries for mercy did not reach my ears that night." The voice that emanated from the mask was dark and bitter, spitting out every word.
"Why?" Regina spluttered, aghast.
There was a long pause, and Regina started to think the Swan would go back on his word. Then he suddenly answered, very quietly. "I could only hear mine." The Swan tuned away. "We are done now." They pulled out a blanket and wrapped themselves into a little cocoon, their back to Regina. She blinked a few times, still surprised by the Swans' deep and honest answer. Inner turmoil built within her as she weighed her hatred for the Swan against what she had seen and heard this past month. The figure that led them faithfully through the desert, the one who shared with her a morning of coffee, that protected their men, who elicited such loyalty from them without even trying—this was not the same Black Swan that had murdered thousands, including her father, cruelly striking down begging mothers and their children, relentlessly enforcing Leopold's Persian justice wherever they rode.
Yet both were contained in the same black enshrined vessel—both the Black Swan of Persia and that other person who lay prisoner under that mask. That person who intrigued Regina, amazed her with their selflessness, and had quite impressively aroused her. Who are you? Regina sighed and laid down, wrapped in her own blanket. When she awoke, the storm had ended, but the Swan was gone. They had left early on a scouting trip. Regina did not see them again for two days.
._.
Emma rode back into camp hot and sweaty. It seemed, in this getup, no matter what, she always was. Halfway back she had removed the shirt from under her armor, and now only wore her armored leathers, her arms bare, tattoos clearly displayed on her arms and shoulders. They were only a two-day ride to the dessert canyon, where hours spent in its protection and sure footing would boost their speed faster than three days' travel in the desert. Then they would be only a few days from the Susa. She could already taste the cool waters of the scented baths and touch of silks. Only a few more days in this hell hole, she thought. When had the dessert, usually her haven, become her own personal hell? When a woman who was supposed to be the enemy turned out to be the most beautiful woman alive, Emma remembered with a sardonic sniff. She swung off her horse, handing the reigns to Graham. Chugging from her water skin, she plopped in front of the main fire and scarfed up a bowl of stew prepared by one of her men. She had barely eaten in the two days of hard riding to and from the canyon.
"How was it?" Graham plopped down beside her, grabbing his own bowl. Emma grunted, her mouth full, shoveling in a second helping from the swinging pot into her bowl. "Alright, I'll let you eat." He chuckled, holding up his spoon in surrender. Emma finished a few minutes later, wiping her mouth and sitting back.
"Empty, desolate, rocky. Just how a canyon should be." She paused, "Maybe a little too empty." Graham raised an eyebrow. "There were no lizards." He smiled at that, laughing.
"It's mating season Swan, I think their down in their holes getting frisky. They probably won't see the light of day for a few weeks. I know I wouldn't." He smirked, Emma laughed, but then became serious again.
"It doesn't sit right with me Graham. They love the sun, maybe even more than mating season. I would be more comfortable going in at night under the cover of darkness—we do have a queen to protect." He nodded.
"Speaking of which, we kind of had a run in with the "Evil Queen" while you were gone." Emma raised an eyebrow, though he couldn't see.
"What does that mean?" Graham avoided her gaze.
"Well, uh…"
"Graham..."
"Shekindastolewaterfromafewofthesoldiersforabath." He gushed out. "I'm so sorry I couldn't stop her!"
"What? How many?"
"At least a two day supply of water from three men." Emma growled low in her throat, standing up. "I'm sorry! She's a force of nature!" Emma stalked across the camp, an evening chill descending over it. A purple hue bleached the sky with the coming sunset.
"How could she? Selfish—taking and endangering from the men! For a bath!" Anger clouded inside of her as she stormed to the Greek woman's tent. Rage boiled her skin like nothing had before. Instinctively her hands balled into fists as she sieged the tent opening. Two soldiers were outside her door, standing guard. "What are you doing here? Aren't you both supposed to be on watch?" Both looked startled to see her.
"Hazarpatish. We were ordered to stand guard by the Greek princess." Emma pushed them aside to their surprise.
"Get back to your post," she replied gruffly, pushing the tent flaps inside, "and she's not a princess." She mumbled under her breath. "Regina," Emma yelled, fuming, "how could you—" She stopped cold as her mouth dropped open. Her feet were suddenly frozen as if they had been caught by quicksand; she could not look away if she had tried. Inside the cool interior of the tent, Regina stood at the center of it, standing on a braided rug that was being sacrificed so her feet wouldn't get dirty with wet sand. Stark naked, she was holding a waterskin above her head, letting a stream of water hit her forehead and cascade down her front. At the sound of Emma's loud intrusion, Regina turned toward her with surprise, but did nothing to cover herself. Emma gulped dryly as the woman was fully revealed to her. Her eyes almost bled from the raw sensuality that stood dripping in front of her.
The creamy olive skin that composed her face, arms and neck, flowed unbroken across the rest of her body, holding not a single blemish but for the scar on her lip. Her body was soft, but accustomed to hard riding, and looked surprisingly strong for a woman who boasted silks and perfume. Regina's dark long hair curled around her shoulder's like the fabled sirens of her home, it framed dark eyes and cheekbones, then fell to either side of her chest, giving way to the curves of her ample breast. Her collar bones stood sharp and graceful, crowning a place Emma didn't want to go but her eyes went anyway.
Dusky bourbon nipples stood stark against her creamy skin, the tips of two perfectly kissable breasts. Her flat stomach led to prominent hip bones, curving enticingly. Water cascaded in small ripples from her shoulders down her body in a thin shimmer. Emma's stomach clenched as she witnessed one solitary droplet gather under a nipple, hanging there until it grew too heavy for its perch. It slowly slid down the underside of her heavy breast, passing toward her navel and down…Emma tore her eyes away, aware of the dark eyes watching her. "Gods." She whispered, "Cover yourself." Her back was now to the Greek; something deep within her had clenched when her eyes had traced the path of the droplet. Her body was on fire like it was lit by a thousand suns. Emma gripped her quivering hand, trying to contain her desire.
"Why, don't like what you see?" Sex and mockery dripped from the husky tone Regina was using.
"Please…" Emma's voice was hoarse.
"Very well." Emma heard some ruffling and a few seconds later a very amused, "it's safe" floated across the tent. Sighing, Emma turned back around. The sight of that woman standing there, now clothed in a silk robe, delighted by her apparent discomfort, ignited a fire inside her. Emma remembered why she had come. Focusing on her anger, her tongue untangled. Despite herself, Regina glanced down at the Black Swan's trousers as he turned around again. There was no tell-tale pull of fabric that gave away his desire. She swept aside the small disappointment that flowered in her chest. Either he's very good at controlling himself or he's castrated, she thought.
"You cannot take water from the soldiers, just to take a bath." Emma was quiet, but her voice was strong again, of which she was thankful for. "Now all three of them will be without water for two days. We are in the desert."
"Is this why you so rudely barged into my tent? To discipline me like a child? What are you going to do, put me on a time-out?" Regina snorted. "The three oafs you call soldiers were happy to oblige. The way I see it, I'm helping keep down sickness and disease by washing my body, unlike all you Persian barbarians." Her eyes flashed hotly, challengingly. Emma grit her teeth. If her hair wasn't pulled back under her scarf, she would have pulled it out right then and there.
"You cannot use water so frivolously in the desert. There is no water hole between here and Susa. If we run out before we reach the city, we die, end of story." Emma replied, trying to be calm. Regina laughed.
"Maybe if you were less frivolous with your purse, we might have a few more horses to carry more water." Emma growled low in her throat.
"You don't listen, do you? All you respond to is force." Regina smirked, raising an eyebrow.
"Wouldn't you just love to force yourself on me right now. I know you couldn't look away." She cooed sarcastically.
"Don't test me sorceress." Emma hissed, hands balled into fists. Regina smirked, snorting.
"Is that a challenge? By all means, Persian, come at me—" Suddenly Emma was there, pushing her up against a solid tent pole, hands keeping her wrists by her sides, mask right up in her face. Regina hit the pole with an 'oof', eyebrows shooting into her hair and chest breathing heavily. Her clothed silken breasts pressed into Emma's flat leather breastplate with her chest's every rise and fall.
"The only reason why I haven't gladly chucked you off the back of your own horse, stolen it, and ridden off to let you fend for yourself out here is because you are the betrothed to my liege lord. The only reason. You can get away with this childish behavior out here, but you will not last long if you continue this in Susa, believe me, and I won't be there to save your neck. The punishment for this, if you were a solider, would be fifteen lashes—but I'll let you get away with just this one, since your skin is so soft." Emma released her, Regina snapping up to rub her wrists, looking at her warily. Satisfaction doused some of her anger now that she felt Regina had been sufficiently shaken. Emma whirled around to leave, striding to the door. She paused at the door, glancing at the still stunned woman. Before she lost her nerve, she spoke again. "I'm…sorry…if I was too rough on your wrists." Regina recovered fast, her backbone again as strong as steel, her eyes again holding defiance, yet respect as well.
Emma nodded in acknowledgement, exiting. She stood for a moment, hands on her hips outside the tent, just breathing. Every encounter with that woman either left her burning with fire or chilled from fear. Today it was both. Shaking her head, Emma strode off to find a stout piece of wood to hack at with her sword. She needed to let off some new energy.
