AN: You guys are seriously slacking in the reviews department here! LOL A million thanks to
those who *did* review. You guys rock. I wasn't actually planning to sit down and write this
now but I watched about half an hour of TMR and got inspired. I decided to complicate things,
characterization wise, and yes, the journey itself finally begins this chaper!
Disclaimer: I disclaim, I disclaim already!
******************************* Akayla Bay: Chapter Eight ******************************
Akayla's horse was packed, saddled, and bridled. The mare was tethered several yards away from
the cliff she was perched on. A morning breeze caught her dark robes and flung them outward,
outlining her form against the burgeoning azure of the morning sky. Kayka was small, and
seemingly frail but then looks were so often deceiving. She came here often to think, and
reflect, even before Ardeth's death.
More so afterwards.
Rough fingertips absently brushed the crown of feathers on Thor, her falcon. He preened
beneath the attention and shifted from one foot to another, talons gripping her leather bound
arm tightly. She bore scars from those talons, from the times she had dared to fly her bird
without a gauntlet for protection.
A grim smile touched her chapped lips. She had been younger then, and had more to prove, both
to herself and to her peers. And to her betters.
Akayla flung her arm upwards and Thor exploded in a graceful, violent movement of beating wings
and sharp, sharp beak. She stood and admired his flight, his heady dizzying flight, while
resolutely ignoring the man who had walked silently up behind her.
Tarnif broke the stubborn silence first. "He is really going with you, isn't he, the
Outsider?" Akayla bristled as she turned and sent a scathing glare at her childhood playmate,
adult rival, and almost husband.
"That Tarnif, is none of your business."
The Medjai leader glared back and crossed well muscled arms across his broad chest. He was
impressive, anyone would admit that. Tarnif was several crucial years Kayla's senior and a
prime example of the pride of their people. She was fierce, savage, loyal and devoted to a
fault but, for all she was, she was but a pale imitation of HIM.
Of Tarnif with his chiseled features and height and breadth and muscle. Of Tarnif who flew an
eagle and rode a stallion he had helped deliver himself when he was still a boy. Of Tarnif,
man, leader, hero.
For she was small and quick and a woman. She had made a place for herself, when her society
had provided none. With tooth and nail she had clawed and fought and killed, had spilled blood
on her brown, worn hands to be seen as HIS equal, both in their eyes and the eyes of their
people.
And sometimes it hurt to know just how impossible that task was.
"Kayla." Her name was a stern warning, a mild rebuke, the kind of chastisement a brother or
father made, not a lover. Not an equal. Akayla seethed.
"I can protect myself Tarnif. From a goddess, and from one lone Englishman." She said nothing
of her own doubts, and her own anger at having Alex O'Connell accompany her. Said nothing
because she had made her decision and no one was allowed to question it. Because that implied
questioning her wisdom, her authority, her strength. Akayla was leader of her tribe and no one,
not even the man who arrogantly claimed her as his, could contradict her.
Silence stretched loud and cold between them. Tarnif had his pride too for Tarnif, Tarnif had
been leading his own tribe of Medjai for nearly five years. And yet still, still, he questioned
her.
"I thank you for watching over my tribe for the extent of my absence."
Tarnif sighed and bridged the distance between them in a few short strides. He roughly pulled
Akayla into his arms and up, up, he distance that separated them until their lips met. It was
brazen and bold. A self respecting Medjai woman wouldn't have tolerated it for a second.
But Akayla lived for the moment. Lived as a warrior. She took what she could of life, before
it was robbed from her. She was angry, and hurt, both by words spoken since Tarnif's arrival
the day before and one heatedly exchanged the last time their tribes ad met, several months
ago. Angry and hurt but not fool enough to push one of her last ties on earth away.
Not strong enough to reject the warmth and strength in Tarnif's arms.
"I'll marry you one day Akayla Bay. I'll see you stand by my side and bear my children and
unite our two tribes as one. I'll see you every morning as I rise and every evening as I drift
off to sleep, content, sated, and mine."
Akayla, furious once again, drew back. "I never said yes to any of your proposals Tarnif."
He leaned down, down until his lips brushed her ear, sending shivers through her body. "But
you will Kayla. You will."
Akayla was a woman perhaps, especially when Tarnif held her, but she was a warrior and leader
first damn it. "Go to hell," she spat and promptly began to disentangle their limbs.
She snatched the reins of her white horse and swung up into the saddle, giving Tarnif the view
of her stiff and unyielding back. She guided the mare down the steep path and to the Medjai
camp where Alex O'Connell stuck out like some kind of pale, white angel, golden hair and all.
"Are you ready?" Akayla demanded, knowing she sounded churlish to her own ears and not caring
in the least. If the Englishman appeared a taken back by her curtness he didn't show it. He
simply nodded genially and smiled... Just smiled. Without malice or judgment or... or any
damn expression she could blame him for harboring. She wanted a scapegoat and her unwanted
companion wasn't helping her out any.
Geitran was brave enough to clasp the Outsider's arm and then come to her side to clasp her
own. Akayla met his wise gaze with a set, hard mouth.
"Tarnif doesn't mean it. You know that..."
The white line of Akayla's firm mouth tightened and Geitran wisely stopped whatever well thought
out advice he was about to offer. She rarely accepted interference from anyone, no matter how
dear they were to her late father. Alex O'Connell was already pushing her to her limits.
"Farewell," Geitran said instead as he stepped back. "You know where to go?" Akayla nodded
abruptly. "Good and Kayla... I will watch over your tribe as well. Mine is quite happy to
loan me out. They run out of tasks to occupy me with while my son does all the real leading."
There was no pity on Akayla's face but her harsh, harsh features softened slightly and she
managed a small smile before answering. "Your presence is no burden to me Geitran. You have
my tribe's hospitality and my express permission to overrule Tarnif should he overstep his
bounds." The last was relayed in a voice loud enough to be easily heard by her milling people.
Loud enough to make certain that Geitran, not Tarnif, was the ultimate authority over her
tribe, over the men and women who had sworn fealty to her at her father's death.
It was the least she could do. Geitran had decades more experience and a much leveler head.
Besides, she was still angry at the large warrior. That and she didn't quite trust anyone that
much... Not with Tarnif's own tribe camped at the outskirts of her own.
And with that last deed Akayla kicked her horse's flanks. The mare started before quickly
streaming out of the camp, the still silent, still amused Alex O'Connell on her heels.
**************************************************************************************
As the two steeds and riders galloped off towards the uncivilized, unexplored desert sands, a
falcon's cry rent the dawn. Thor shot like a bullet from the heavens and Akayla, with barely
an upward glance, thrust her first into the air. The bird of prey landed perfectly as the two
horses ran.
"What's his name?" Alex called over the pounding of their horses' hooves.
"Thor..."
Akayla caught the surprised grin on the Englishman's face as he leaned close to his gelding's
neck for better balance. "That's a Norse god!"
"Your point?" Kayla shouted back.
She could see Alex flush from where she was.
"I just didn't think that..."
He trailed off but it was too little too late. Thor took flight at Akayla's command as she
took a better grip of her mare's reins and urged her horse faster. It complied, leaving Alex,
in every sense of the word, both literal and metaphorical, in the dust. But not quick enough
for the wind to snatch away Akayla's parting sally, thrown carelessly over her retreating
shoulder.
"Just because I can't read English doesn't mean I'm not finely educated!"
It was going to be a long journey indeed.
************************************************************************************
Tarnif watched as the two riders dwindled into specks in the flaming horizon from his spot on
the cliff, lips still burning from his kiss with Akayla Bay.
He sighed deeply, before trying to shove his feelings of misgiving away. Akayla would come
back, to her home and to him, she always did. Always would.
He strode away without another backwards glance. He had a job to do and two tribes to lead.
those who *did* review. You guys rock. I wasn't actually planning to sit down and write this
now but I watched about half an hour of TMR and got inspired. I decided to complicate things,
characterization wise, and yes, the journey itself finally begins this chaper!
Disclaimer: I disclaim, I disclaim already!
******************************* Akayla Bay: Chapter Eight ******************************
Akayla's horse was packed, saddled, and bridled. The mare was tethered several yards away from
the cliff she was perched on. A morning breeze caught her dark robes and flung them outward,
outlining her form against the burgeoning azure of the morning sky. Kayka was small, and
seemingly frail but then looks were so often deceiving. She came here often to think, and
reflect, even before Ardeth's death.
More so afterwards.
Rough fingertips absently brushed the crown of feathers on Thor, her falcon. He preened
beneath the attention and shifted from one foot to another, talons gripping her leather bound
arm tightly. She bore scars from those talons, from the times she had dared to fly her bird
without a gauntlet for protection.
A grim smile touched her chapped lips. She had been younger then, and had more to prove, both
to herself and to her peers. And to her betters.
Akayla flung her arm upwards and Thor exploded in a graceful, violent movement of beating wings
and sharp, sharp beak. She stood and admired his flight, his heady dizzying flight, while
resolutely ignoring the man who had walked silently up behind her.
Tarnif broke the stubborn silence first. "He is really going with you, isn't he, the
Outsider?" Akayla bristled as she turned and sent a scathing glare at her childhood playmate,
adult rival, and almost husband.
"That Tarnif, is none of your business."
The Medjai leader glared back and crossed well muscled arms across his broad chest. He was
impressive, anyone would admit that. Tarnif was several crucial years Kayla's senior and a
prime example of the pride of their people. She was fierce, savage, loyal and devoted to a
fault but, for all she was, she was but a pale imitation of HIM.
Of Tarnif with his chiseled features and height and breadth and muscle. Of Tarnif who flew an
eagle and rode a stallion he had helped deliver himself when he was still a boy. Of Tarnif,
man, leader, hero.
For she was small and quick and a woman. She had made a place for herself, when her society
had provided none. With tooth and nail she had clawed and fought and killed, had spilled blood
on her brown, worn hands to be seen as HIS equal, both in their eyes and the eyes of their
people.
And sometimes it hurt to know just how impossible that task was.
"Kayla." Her name was a stern warning, a mild rebuke, the kind of chastisement a brother or
father made, not a lover. Not an equal. Akayla seethed.
"I can protect myself Tarnif. From a goddess, and from one lone Englishman." She said nothing
of her own doubts, and her own anger at having Alex O'Connell accompany her. Said nothing
because she had made her decision and no one was allowed to question it. Because that implied
questioning her wisdom, her authority, her strength. Akayla was leader of her tribe and no one,
not even the man who arrogantly claimed her as his, could contradict her.
Silence stretched loud and cold between them. Tarnif had his pride too for Tarnif, Tarnif had
been leading his own tribe of Medjai for nearly five years. And yet still, still, he questioned
her.
"I thank you for watching over my tribe for the extent of my absence."
Tarnif sighed and bridged the distance between them in a few short strides. He roughly pulled
Akayla into his arms and up, up, he distance that separated them until their lips met. It was
brazen and bold. A self respecting Medjai woman wouldn't have tolerated it for a second.
But Akayla lived for the moment. Lived as a warrior. She took what she could of life, before
it was robbed from her. She was angry, and hurt, both by words spoken since Tarnif's arrival
the day before and one heatedly exchanged the last time their tribes ad met, several months
ago. Angry and hurt but not fool enough to push one of her last ties on earth away.
Not strong enough to reject the warmth and strength in Tarnif's arms.
"I'll marry you one day Akayla Bay. I'll see you stand by my side and bear my children and
unite our two tribes as one. I'll see you every morning as I rise and every evening as I drift
off to sleep, content, sated, and mine."
Akayla, furious once again, drew back. "I never said yes to any of your proposals Tarnif."
He leaned down, down until his lips brushed her ear, sending shivers through her body. "But
you will Kayla. You will."
Akayla was a woman perhaps, especially when Tarnif held her, but she was a warrior and leader
first damn it. "Go to hell," she spat and promptly began to disentangle their limbs.
She snatched the reins of her white horse and swung up into the saddle, giving Tarnif the view
of her stiff and unyielding back. She guided the mare down the steep path and to the Medjai
camp where Alex O'Connell stuck out like some kind of pale, white angel, golden hair and all.
"Are you ready?" Akayla demanded, knowing she sounded churlish to her own ears and not caring
in the least. If the Englishman appeared a taken back by her curtness he didn't show it. He
simply nodded genially and smiled... Just smiled. Without malice or judgment or... or any
damn expression she could blame him for harboring. She wanted a scapegoat and her unwanted
companion wasn't helping her out any.
Geitran was brave enough to clasp the Outsider's arm and then come to her side to clasp her
own. Akayla met his wise gaze with a set, hard mouth.
"Tarnif doesn't mean it. You know that..."
The white line of Akayla's firm mouth tightened and Geitran wisely stopped whatever well thought
out advice he was about to offer. She rarely accepted interference from anyone, no matter how
dear they were to her late father. Alex O'Connell was already pushing her to her limits.
"Farewell," Geitran said instead as he stepped back. "You know where to go?" Akayla nodded
abruptly. "Good and Kayla... I will watch over your tribe as well. Mine is quite happy to
loan me out. They run out of tasks to occupy me with while my son does all the real leading."
There was no pity on Akayla's face but her harsh, harsh features softened slightly and she
managed a small smile before answering. "Your presence is no burden to me Geitran. You have
my tribe's hospitality and my express permission to overrule Tarnif should he overstep his
bounds." The last was relayed in a voice loud enough to be easily heard by her milling people.
Loud enough to make certain that Geitran, not Tarnif, was the ultimate authority over her
tribe, over the men and women who had sworn fealty to her at her father's death.
It was the least she could do. Geitran had decades more experience and a much leveler head.
Besides, she was still angry at the large warrior. That and she didn't quite trust anyone that
much... Not with Tarnif's own tribe camped at the outskirts of her own.
And with that last deed Akayla kicked her horse's flanks. The mare started before quickly
streaming out of the camp, the still silent, still amused Alex O'Connell on her heels.
**************************************************************************************
As the two steeds and riders galloped off towards the uncivilized, unexplored desert sands, a
falcon's cry rent the dawn. Thor shot like a bullet from the heavens and Akayla, with barely
an upward glance, thrust her first into the air. The bird of prey landed perfectly as the two
horses ran.
"What's his name?" Alex called over the pounding of their horses' hooves.
"Thor..."
Akayla caught the surprised grin on the Englishman's face as he leaned close to his gelding's
neck for better balance. "That's a Norse god!"
"Your point?" Kayla shouted back.
She could see Alex flush from where she was.
"I just didn't think that..."
He trailed off but it was too little too late. Thor took flight at Akayla's command as she
took a better grip of her mare's reins and urged her horse faster. It complied, leaving Alex,
in every sense of the word, both literal and metaphorical, in the dust. But not quick enough
for the wind to snatch away Akayla's parting sally, thrown carelessly over her retreating
shoulder.
"Just because I can't read English doesn't mean I'm not finely educated!"
It was going to be a long journey indeed.
************************************************************************************
Tarnif watched as the two riders dwindled into specks in the flaming horizon from his spot on
the cliff, lips still burning from his kiss with Akayla Bay.
He sighed deeply, before trying to shove his feelings of misgiving away. Akayla would come
back, to her home and to him, she always did. Always would.
He strode away without another backwards glance. He had a job to do and two tribes to lead.