Chapter 5: Milanun and Menfuisu
"I wouldn't do that." Harker warned, stepping into the room.
Milanun looked up from her calf with a startled fright, bandages half unravelled and showing the discolouration of spent material. She watched with bristling shoulders as the Westerner lowered a plate onto the empty side of the large bed, actions slow as if to not scare her.
"But I guess it's time to change the bandages anyway. Here, eat something." He huffed, running his hand through his sunshine hair before walking over to a steaming bowl in the corner of the room.
"What are you doing!?" The princess yelped when she saw pale hands turn red, the Australian man having dunked the limbs in up to his elbows.
"Sterilising myself." He answered simply, repeating the painful process after calming his buzzing nerve ends.
"Sterilising…?"
"Sorry, I'm cleaning myself so you don't get sick." The Aussie amended, drying off the angry red appendages as he walked over, a fresh roll of linen in hand.
The Haitian stiffened when Harker sat at her feet, pulling the tender limb from under the sheets. She gave a yelp and yanked herself out of his grip, eyes widening when a thunderbolt of pain flashed up her nerves, crying out when pale hands reclaimed her tanned calf.
"Calm down, lady! You shouldn't move it around like that, Jesus!" Harker snapped, keeping the limb down easily as her upper body writhes in efforts of retreat.
"Cool it, I'm not going to hurt you." He huffed, smoothing his voice like he had been taught. "You've been through enough of that already. We're just gonna get you healed up enough to get you home without too much trouble."
"Haiti!" She gasped, sitting up despite Harker's tisk of annoyance. "What's happening with Haiti? I was meant to return days ago! A week at least!"
"I don't know, but I'll find out for you. From what I can tell, they're not happy with Egypt." The Australian answered, "Now could you please eat something, you've been out for two days, and gods know that last time you got something in your gut."
Milanun prepared to spit defiance at him, only to have a large grape shoved onto her tongue, the sweet juice flowing over her parched mouth. She struggled for a moment, before claiming the bowl and crunching through the bunches with desperation, her stomach craving its fill.
"Hey, hey," Harker breathed lowly, catching her hand and pausing the fast feeding. "Slow down, you'll make yourself crook. Drink some water."
The princess frowned but followed the order, sipping away at her goblet as she watched the white man peel off the final layer of cotton, her eyes widening when she saw thread pinching her skin.
"I boiled the living daylights out of some thread and a sharp stick for stitches. It's not all that great, but it does the job." He explained, looking it over, before reaching to a small box by his feet.
Milanun blinked when she saw a slab of green vegetation, perking when she recognised it as aloe vera. Harker carefully began painting the plant's gel onto her tender scarring, rubbing small circles into her ankle with his thumb absently as he did.
"This was a pretty bad wound, you had a twisted ankle too, so you must have gotten this when you sprained it."
"I tried to get out of the cell, but the floor was uneven and the room was dark. The stones in the corner were sharp, I nearly hit my head instead." She muttered into her cup, voice echoing off the shiny surface.
"I didn't expect Ashisu to do this sort of thing," Harker breathed after a moment, frowning at the slowly mending skin. "But I suppose, it shouldn't come as such a shock."
"That terrible woman, she wanted to marry the Pharaoh so badly that she trapped me in a cell! She's crazy!"
"We have a name for people like that, you know." Harker hummed, packing away the aloe vera and rewrapping her Milanun's leg.
The Aussie smiled as he faced her, seeing her expression of inquisition.
"Fucking psychos."
()()()
The first time Harker had seen someone drown was when he was sixteen. It had only been a week after Priti and he had completed their training, first aid certificate and many other qualifications under their belts.
There had been a storm forecast for that evening, but as usual, there were swimmers and surfers still out braving the choppy, cold waters. They had been called in as spares after three rescues that day, a group of teens who thought themselves bulletproof.
It had been a pretty bad day, but the waves were becoming increasingly dangerous, with sandbanks being beaten and surfers being dunked quite viciously. The senior guard decided that it had become too much of a hazard and called for those in the surf to swim ashore and return.
It didn't take long for a woman, wrapped in a towel and clutching the hand of her damp daughter. She was hysteric, eyes red and lips blue.
"I can't find my son, his father's gone to look for him but they haven't come back yet!"
They had searched for hours, helicopters called when the skies cleared, boats sent out, but there was nothing. Then, the next morning, they found them.
Harker and Priti had been setting up the red and yellow flags, but were bustled off quickly sent to follow after the fast-moving lifesavers. They kept up with them all the way to a rocky ledge, where the first clue to what had happened was a child's pool toy. Then a pair of goggles. Then the blue, soaked and cold body of the boy. Further along the cliff the father laid strewn across sharp juts of mineral, broken and still.
Priti hadn't been able to eat for days, and Harker himself couldn't get the glassy eyes of the kid out of his head, glazed over and unseeing, staring right at him from the water's edge. They could never quite get over their first drowning, never could forget the ones that came after either.
The Australian grit his teeth before pushing off the wall of his room, curtains billowing as he pushed them out of the way. His brow was set in a furrow as he walked fast, the sounds of an angered and distraught Pharaoh reaching him even through solid stone walls. His fists bundled as his cape fluttered, turning the final corner and coming to see the teen king strike a servant across the head with a vase breaking it in the process.
"Oi, Pharaoh, c'mere!" He snapped, grabbing Menfuisu by his bicep.
"Harker! How dare you handle-"
"No. Come." Harker ordered, having enough of the behaviour.
It had gone on for days, unchecked and uncared for. No one knew how to handle the king as he was normally, but now with trauma, guilt and so much more knocking at his mind, Menfuisu was a frantic mess.
Harker dragged the Pharaoh out of the lobby with him, lips pinched between teeth as he turned through passageways until they came out to a garden, the Nile glistening happily in the distance, rubbing salt in both their wounds. The Australian found a shaded spot before dumping the king on the ground, the Ancient giving a curse before he found himself pressed up against warmth.
Menfuisu stayed still, stunned into silence as he listened to the heartbeat bouncing into his ear, a hand laid on the black locks of his head. The embrace was awkward, haphazard and slightly uncomfortable, their position not thought out well at all…
But it was exactly what he needed.
The king looked up after a moment, coal eyes widening when he saw orbs of sky staring back down at his with heart-wrenching softness, shades of oceans and horizons melding in two small but expansive pools, riddled with emotion. Lashes of gold and wheat framed those untouchable jewels, brushing over pearly skin and white druzy sweat. Warm hands that left scalding trails rubbed along his back, slowly relaxing the Pharaoh, petal pink lips slowly melding into a small smile, encouraging.
"I lost her." He said finally, quiet and weak.
"No, no you didn't. You did everything you could." Harker breathed, ethereal lilts to his words. "You tried to save her, that's more than enough."
Alabaster hands, calloused and smooth just like the mineral, rubbed along the sun-tanned skin of the Egyptian king, collecting dust, sweat and frustration.
"We'll find her, don't you worry." He smiled, making the Ancient's heart stutter.
"I hope so. I pray every chance I get to both Hapi and Ra." The king sighed, dropping his head back down onto the white chest, listening to the steady rhythm.
"Can we just stay like this for a little while? Please?"
Harker shifted, making him frown, but only leaned back against the trunk of a desert tree, getting himself comfortable.
"Sure, mate. Take all the time you need."
()()()
Harker glared out the window, seated on the still as he bared his teeth at the gleaming surface of the Nile river, boats sailing up and down like a languid highway. It had been days since Carol had gone under, and the palace had been in chaos. The Pharaoh had been snapping at people left and right despite the talk, and Harker himself had been at his wit's end, swum to exhaustion and forcingly sent to his room by the General.
"Harker?"
Blue snapped to the call, Milanun flinching under the cobalt glare.
"Yes, Milanun?" He asked after a few calming seconds.
"May I ask, what's the news of the Haitians?" She breathed, carefully nibbling on a plump fruit.
The Haitian princess's health had reached its original state now, her hair regaining its sheen and her skin glowing with youth. She was wearing another of Carol's nightgowns, free of any jewels or finery, spare the earrings and bangles she refused to remove. Her eyes had gained their light and the bag under them had faded, a rosy tint returning to her cheeks as she filled out anew with regular feeding.
"They apparently are gearing for war, your disappearance was unexpected and has rippled. We'll need to get cracking on getting you across the desert, undetected, as soon as possible." He responded, shaking his head and getting to his feet.
The Australian walked over to the bedside and pulled the blankets off the royal woman, checking the wrapping on her calf. He sat himself down and pulled the leg onto his lap, the princess no longer thrashing in his hold as she had first done.
"Do you feel any discomfort? Not just from here, anywhere else too. Any nausea or illness?" He asked, unwrapping the bandages and peering into the healing flesh, the wound coming together nicely.
"No, it's fine." Milanun hummed, watching him rebind her leg with careful hands.
"Good, the sooner this is ready, the safer you'll be." Harker murmured gently, placing a warm hand on the wrappings, before tucking it under the sheets.
He sighed as he stretched, coming to lean on the window sill and see the setting sun, another day without a find. Teeth clamped down on his lower lip as he closed his eyes, a long breath coming to settle himself.
"Harker, you're tired." The Haitian spoke gently, seeing the frailty of his condition. "You need to sleep."
"Carol's missing." He huffed, gripping the stone tightly.
"And that disgusting Pharaoh has got men and boats combing the whole of the Egyptian Nile for her, you won't be able to find her any faster than they would." She reasoned swiftly, before softening her expression when she saw worn labradorite turned on her.
The royal girl picked the platter off her lap and placed it on a side table before she shuffled further into the lavish bedding, pulling the corner of the sheets off as an invitation to the Westerner.
"Come, sleep until morning, then you can continue to worry after your Carol when you wake."
Her curly hair swayed as she made more room, slowly luring the man back to the bedside with a comforting and open smile.
As usual, Harker hesitated climbing into bed with her, looking ready to just steal a pillow and sleep on the window sill as he usually did with Carol, but her stare made him buckle and trudge over, a light laugh escaping the princess as he made a show of struggling into the sheets after dumping the gold, jewels and cape. The Westerner stiffened as arms came and bundled him close, blue eyes wide in surprise as a chest was directed in front of him.
Now, Harker wasn't expecting this. Yes, he had been forced to share a bed with the Haitian, but they had made a habit of segregating themselves, an unspoken no-man's land cracking down the middle of the linen and cotton.
"Uh...Milanun?" He choked after a moment.
"Yes, Harker?" She hummed, playing with strands of precious metal locks.
"What're you doing?"
"Calming you. Does it make you uncomfortable?"
"Well, not exactly, it's just-"
"Go to sleep, Harker. You've drained yourself."
The Australian opened his mouth to reject the statement, but a yawn leaked out instead, making the Haitian laugh a bit, gently carding her fingers through his hair.
"Fine, you win this one, princess." He muttered, before settling, though the red hue from being less than an inch away from a female's bust remained.
As cobalt eyes closed, brown eyes of desert sand continued to look down on him, the dainty smile stretching as Milanun hugged the Western man close. It as true that she feared the strange man at first, her pain further fueling the unjustified hate she felt for him, but as he lulled, soothed and nurtured her back to her former health and glory, she couldn't deny the slow growing tingles his hands left, nor the flutter-stumble of her heart when he caught her eye.
Oh, she had thought she knew what love was when she laid eyes on that king, his face and words quick to make her heart flutter and cheeks heat, but the reality of the situation had hit her like a wall. Everything that heartless man had done and said was as choreographed as the palace dancers, he had no desire for her heart, nor her affection. All The Pharaoh wanted was Haiti, and, perhaps, her body as a bonus. She didn't love that man, never did from what she understands now. She was enamoured by him, his regal position and appearance enthralling her in her innocence, promises of marriage and that happily ever after mutilating her mind.
Now...Now she knew what that fabled emotion was. The 'strongest force', that pure, sweet elixir that thrummed through her veins in molten sighs. The desire to always be near, to always see, to have them see you in their heart as you see them. The unbridaled horse kick to the heart whenever they smile at you or touch you. Harker. Harker was her Love, the man she wanted to welcome home every time. The only man she would let touch her like this, the only man she would let touch her, period.
But she had seen it, she had seen the way that Egyptian Pharaoh looked at Harker. The taint in his eyes, the sulphur of his hands, they were all there to try and hurt white skin, to blemish and blight alabaster and starlight. The way Harker had embraced the king in the gardens showed he was oblivious to this intent, and it made Milanun's heart ache for her gentle carer, how he showed too much sympathy, even to those who did not deserve it.
She would return to Haiti, yes, return home to her brother, mother, father, people- and she would bring Harker with her. He would be safe from the Pharaoh in her kingdom, safe from those who desired to soil and desecrate his celestial self. She would keep him close and warm, provide for him what those like the women Carol and Isis couldn't. She'd love him. Just like she was falling into the habit of now.
"Sleep, Harker, sleep. Your princess will keep you warm tonight."
