AN: Wow, a new chapter. Its been well, six days shy of a year since the last
update for which I sincerely, sincerely apologize. There are no excuses and I
sincerely hope to finish this fic in a timely fashion. I always forget how
much I love it, and these movies.
Any reviews, by both new reader and old, would be treasured. I, like many here,
thrive off reviews, both good and bad. You guys can definitely thank Laura for
this update. She reminded me very politely, and frequently, that I was leaving a
perfectly good fic languishing. I needed the reminders.
~Kei
**Forgive the mess of my layout, FF.Net and I are having some minor disagreements.**
************************ Akayla Bay: Chapter Nine *************************
They rode throughout the day, stopping at times to rest in silence, drinking scant
supplies of water beneath the heat of the unrelenting sun. Alex allowed Akayla her
quiet and left noise to the horses, which snorted and pawed the sand, and the
screeching cries of Thor, the falcon.
They camped at a small oasis as the moon climbed high in the sky and stars broke
the claim of darkness on the land. An unspoken agreement sent Alex to start a small
fire as Akayla fixed a sparse dinner. They reclined in front of the fire together
as they ate, with the mare and gelding quietly grazing on harsh desert grasses,
which grew around the small watering hole that formed the heart of the oasis.
Alex watched the woman Ardeth Bay had raised and loved. Watched the fire throw
stark shadows against the planes of her face as the flames warmed her lovely eyes
gold. Strength of will and strength of will alone kept him reaching across the
distance between them and tracing the tattoos on her tanned cheeks. She would
hardly appreciate such familiarity.
The distance between them was greater than a single camp fire.
"Who was the man who came before we left?" he asked softly, speaking of the
intimidating warrior who had arrived at the head of a fierce, Medjai tribe. He
had heard he and Akayla fighting, most of the desert could have that morning, one
day before they had left. He had seen them arguing again the next day, this
morning. It was comforting to know he wasn't the only one who stirred the small
woman into such a fury.
Akayla jumped slightly at the sound of his voice and briefly cast her gaze his way,
indifferent to his blatant stare as she shrugged fluidly, stiffly. The question
had been unwanted. But Alex wanted to know.
"We can't spend weeks together in silence Akayla."
"Any reason why we cannot?" she demanded, velvet voice lazy and harsh at the same
time as she chided the presumption of this Outsider. "You may have loved my father
Alex O'Connell but many did. You are guaranteed no such affection therefore by me."
"Would it hurt you to care about so many others?" he asked gently.
Akayla smiled and it was a bitter, drawn gesture of emotion better forgotten. She
rose gracefully, gathered and sure, a warrior in every movement, as her sword swung
by her side. "You do not love in the desert Englishman, for she is a jealous
mistress. What you cherish is always, inevitably, taken away before its time.
The less you care, the less you break."
"Then you must be one of the most whole women in the world because everyone loves
and everyone looses Akayla Bay. But, you loose even if you don't love. It's the
love that makes the loosing bearable."
Her bitter smile grew in the shadows of the fire. "Did you read such a pretty
thing in a book Englishman?" she taunted, her accent stronger with her annoyance.
He laughed at her, but it was pitying, and she hated him more in that instant than
in any of the days he had forced himself into her life. Akayla Bay was not one to
be pitied, by anyone, especially by some child who dared to call himself a man.
"Your father wrote it, in a letter he sent me long ago."
"My father was a fool," she snapped, fists clenched, furious with herself for
allowing herself to be drawn into such a meaningless, infuriating conversation.
Alex regarded her wearily from his seat on the sand, pale eyes that were so foreign
in her native land, fixed sadly upon her immoveable features. "He loved you."
Akayla looked away. "He was weaker for it."
He paused for a moment, and said the words he wasn't sure if he quite dared, "You
loved him."
Her blazing eyes locked with his and when she answered his heart ached for her anguish.
"And I am broken because of it."
Alex let the proud Medjai woman go and collect herself under the guise of gathering
more firewood.
********************************************************************************
They didn't speak again until they were settled in separate bed rolls to ward off the
fierce chill of the desert night. Akayla rolled onto her side and stared reflectively
into the flames as she carefully considered her words. The Outsider didn't deserve
an explanation and she wasn't quite sure why she was willing to give one.
If he had been on of her men, there would have been discussion to begin with. But
Alex O'Connell was not, and never would be, one of them. She wondered if that might
have been one of the reasons Ardeth had cherished him as much as he apparently had.
"The man who came, his name is Tarnif. He is a Medjai leader from a neighboring tribe
and, calls himself my fiancé."
Alex tensed from his near slumber across the length of the fire and pondered the
delicate wording of Akayla's rich, lilting voice. "And what do you call him?" he
finally asked carefully.
Akayla surprised him by laughing. It was a beautiful, musical, raw sound. He liked
the vulnerability in it. Liked the edges. Liked that it was as unrestrained as the
rest of her was worn and tested and hard. Liked it enough that he wanted to make her
laugh again.
"I call him Tarnif."
Alex smiled and looked at the stars as he stretched out under his blankets. "Then I
shall call him Tarnif as well."
"You amuse me Englishman, sometimes. You are so very foolish."
"Then I am glad that I'm good for something. The Medjai do not keep useless things
around."
There was a very unlady like snort from the other bedrolls. "Well, you read English
as well," Akayla admitted grudgingly.
"And I can ride in silence for en entire day when my companion wishes it, though I
fear I tend to break it as soon as we camp..."
Alex O'Connell fell asleep, content, with the musical sound of Akayla Bay's laughter
fading in his ears.
********************************************************************************
Akayla knew she slept. Knew because she had wept for the man standing before her in
rolling white mists and she didn't weep for the living. Ardeth Bay opened his arms
and the smile on his face was so bright, so un-shadowed by the many troubles that had
plagued him when he lived that she felt herself returning it. She had never seen her
father so happy. Imhotep and her mother's death had seen to that. Dream or not though,
Akayla accepted what comfort she could.
She stepped forward into her father's embrace. His arms circled her slender form easily
and she buried her face into the depths of his dark robes, wishing reality away as
calloused hands soothed her by taming wild hair and kissing the top of her head.
"Kayla..."
"Don't speak Father," she whispered through tears she didn't know she was shedding. He
rocked her and she let him, let him offer her what she denied the world. She was not
weak in anything but her love for him. There was nothing soft in Akayla Bay. She had
killed what little gentleness had existed when she killed her first man at eight.
Not even children can forget blood on their hands.
"I did not want to leave you."
"I know Father," she whispered. "Father!" Akayla cried as she felt him begin to
dissolve, his form trembling and crumbling under her fingers.
"Do not scorn Alex O'Connell and what he may teach you..." Ardeth said softly, voice
disjointed as his only daughter stared in mute horror. He wavered for a moment, as tall
and unbowed, as perfect as she remembered, his eyes warm and full of concern. He mouthed
the words 'I love you' before disappearing into the mists which surged forward to claim
him.
Despite herself, Akayla screamed, "Ardeth!"
The mists parted for a second with the force of her cry and she screamed again at the
sight of something, something so beautiful and perfect, a being in white. She caught
the edge of a savage smile and burning eyes before harsh hands shook her awake.
Akayla Bay gasped as she jerked up, panting breath crystallizing in the cold morning
air, short knife drawn to defend against her attacker. Alex O'Connell rocked back to
avoid the knife's automatic arc, "Whoa!" he shouted and she blinked slowly, as if
seeing him for the first time.
"Alex?" she asked softly, voice unsure.
"Yes," the Englishman replied gently as he watched her dumbly sheathe her knife, "its
me. Are... are you all right?"
"What happened?"
He shivered. Akayla Bay was not one to sound lost, or confused. "You had a dream,
a nightmare. You were screaming."
Her unfocused gaze slowly found his and she chewed her full lower lip with her teeth.
"I don't dream Alex."
He smiled sadly and slowly offered her a hand up. She surprised them both by accepting
it and Alex shuddered at contrast between her slim cold fingers and the warmth of her
body as she brushed past him like a darkly clad ghost. He watched, grave, as she quietly
saddled her mare, clearly lost to contemplative musings. Alex followed suit and they
rode out half an hour later without breakfast, once more under the imposition of Akayla's
silence, only, this silence was one he was loath to break.
He didn't know what could haunt the fierce Medjai leader so, and wasn't sure he wanted to
know enough to ask. He had nightmares enough of his own.
update for which I sincerely, sincerely apologize. There are no excuses and I
sincerely hope to finish this fic in a timely fashion. I always forget how
much I love it, and these movies.
Any reviews, by both new reader and old, would be treasured. I, like many here,
thrive off reviews, both good and bad. You guys can definitely thank Laura for
this update. She reminded me very politely, and frequently, that I was leaving a
perfectly good fic languishing. I needed the reminders.
~Kei
**Forgive the mess of my layout, FF.Net and I are having some minor disagreements.**
************************ Akayla Bay: Chapter Nine *************************
They rode throughout the day, stopping at times to rest in silence, drinking scant
supplies of water beneath the heat of the unrelenting sun. Alex allowed Akayla her
quiet and left noise to the horses, which snorted and pawed the sand, and the
screeching cries of Thor, the falcon.
They camped at a small oasis as the moon climbed high in the sky and stars broke
the claim of darkness on the land. An unspoken agreement sent Alex to start a small
fire as Akayla fixed a sparse dinner. They reclined in front of the fire together
as they ate, with the mare and gelding quietly grazing on harsh desert grasses,
which grew around the small watering hole that formed the heart of the oasis.
Alex watched the woman Ardeth Bay had raised and loved. Watched the fire throw
stark shadows against the planes of her face as the flames warmed her lovely eyes
gold. Strength of will and strength of will alone kept him reaching across the
distance between them and tracing the tattoos on her tanned cheeks. She would
hardly appreciate such familiarity.
The distance between them was greater than a single camp fire.
"Who was the man who came before we left?" he asked softly, speaking of the
intimidating warrior who had arrived at the head of a fierce, Medjai tribe. He
had heard he and Akayla fighting, most of the desert could have that morning, one
day before they had left. He had seen them arguing again the next day, this
morning. It was comforting to know he wasn't the only one who stirred the small
woman into such a fury.
Akayla jumped slightly at the sound of his voice and briefly cast her gaze his way,
indifferent to his blatant stare as she shrugged fluidly, stiffly. The question
had been unwanted. But Alex wanted to know.
"We can't spend weeks together in silence Akayla."
"Any reason why we cannot?" she demanded, velvet voice lazy and harsh at the same
time as she chided the presumption of this Outsider. "You may have loved my father
Alex O'Connell but many did. You are guaranteed no such affection therefore by me."
"Would it hurt you to care about so many others?" he asked gently.
Akayla smiled and it was a bitter, drawn gesture of emotion better forgotten. She
rose gracefully, gathered and sure, a warrior in every movement, as her sword swung
by her side. "You do not love in the desert Englishman, for she is a jealous
mistress. What you cherish is always, inevitably, taken away before its time.
The less you care, the less you break."
"Then you must be one of the most whole women in the world because everyone loves
and everyone looses Akayla Bay. But, you loose even if you don't love. It's the
love that makes the loosing bearable."
Her bitter smile grew in the shadows of the fire. "Did you read such a pretty
thing in a book Englishman?" she taunted, her accent stronger with her annoyance.
He laughed at her, but it was pitying, and she hated him more in that instant than
in any of the days he had forced himself into her life. Akayla Bay was not one to
be pitied, by anyone, especially by some child who dared to call himself a man.
"Your father wrote it, in a letter he sent me long ago."
"My father was a fool," she snapped, fists clenched, furious with herself for
allowing herself to be drawn into such a meaningless, infuriating conversation.
Alex regarded her wearily from his seat on the sand, pale eyes that were so foreign
in her native land, fixed sadly upon her immoveable features. "He loved you."
Akayla looked away. "He was weaker for it."
He paused for a moment, and said the words he wasn't sure if he quite dared, "You
loved him."
Her blazing eyes locked with his and when she answered his heart ached for her anguish.
"And I am broken because of it."
Alex let the proud Medjai woman go and collect herself under the guise of gathering
more firewood.
********************************************************************************
They didn't speak again until they were settled in separate bed rolls to ward off the
fierce chill of the desert night. Akayla rolled onto her side and stared reflectively
into the flames as she carefully considered her words. The Outsider didn't deserve
an explanation and she wasn't quite sure why she was willing to give one.
If he had been on of her men, there would have been discussion to begin with. But
Alex O'Connell was not, and never would be, one of them. She wondered if that might
have been one of the reasons Ardeth had cherished him as much as he apparently had.
"The man who came, his name is Tarnif. He is a Medjai leader from a neighboring tribe
and, calls himself my fiancé."
Alex tensed from his near slumber across the length of the fire and pondered the
delicate wording of Akayla's rich, lilting voice. "And what do you call him?" he
finally asked carefully.
Akayla surprised him by laughing. It was a beautiful, musical, raw sound. He liked
the vulnerability in it. Liked the edges. Liked that it was as unrestrained as the
rest of her was worn and tested and hard. Liked it enough that he wanted to make her
laugh again.
"I call him Tarnif."
Alex smiled and looked at the stars as he stretched out under his blankets. "Then I
shall call him Tarnif as well."
"You amuse me Englishman, sometimes. You are so very foolish."
"Then I am glad that I'm good for something. The Medjai do not keep useless things
around."
There was a very unlady like snort from the other bedrolls. "Well, you read English
as well," Akayla admitted grudgingly.
"And I can ride in silence for en entire day when my companion wishes it, though I
fear I tend to break it as soon as we camp..."
Alex O'Connell fell asleep, content, with the musical sound of Akayla Bay's laughter
fading in his ears.
********************************************************************************
Akayla knew she slept. Knew because she had wept for the man standing before her in
rolling white mists and she didn't weep for the living. Ardeth Bay opened his arms
and the smile on his face was so bright, so un-shadowed by the many troubles that had
plagued him when he lived that she felt herself returning it. She had never seen her
father so happy. Imhotep and her mother's death had seen to that. Dream or not though,
Akayla accepted what comfort she could.
She stepped forward into her father's embrace. His arms circled her slender form easily
and she buried her face into the depths of his dark robes, wishing reality away as
calloused hands soothed her by taming wild hair and kissing the top of her head.
"Kayla..."
"Don't speak Father," she whispered through tears she didn't know she was shedding. He
rocked her and she let him, let him offer her what she denied the world. She was not
weak in anything but her love for him. There was nothing soft in Akayla Bay. She had
killed what little gentleness had existed when she killed her first man at eight.
Not even children can forget blood on their hands.
"I did not want to leave you."
"I know Father," she whispered. "Father!" Akayla cried as she felt him begin to
dissolve, his form trembling and crumbling under her fingers.
"Do not scorn Alex O'Connell and what he may teach you..." Ardeth said softly, voice
disjointed as his only daughter stared in mute horror. He wavered for a moment, as tall
and unbowed, as perfect as she remembered, his eyes warm and full of concern. He mouthed
the words 'I love you' before disappearing into the mists which surged forward to claim
him.
Despite herself, Akayla screamed, "Ardeth!"
The mists parted for a second with the force of her cry and she screamed again at the
sight of something, something so beautiful and perfect, a being in white. She caught
the edge of a savage smile and burning eyes before harsh hands shook her awake.
Akayla Bay gasped as she jerked up, panting breath crystallizing in the cold morning
air, short knife drawn to defend against her attacker. Alex O'Connell rocked back to
avoid the knife's automatic arc, "Whoa!" he shouted and she blinked slowly, as if
seeing him for the first time.
"Alex?" she asked softly, voice unsure.
"Yes," the Englishman replied gently as he watched her dumbly sheathe her knife, "its
me. Are... are you all right?"
"What happened?"
He shivered. Akayla Bay was not one to sound lost, or confused. "You had a dream,
a nightmare. You were screaming."
Her unfocused gaze slowly found his and she chewed her full lower lip with her teeth.
"I don't dream Alex."
He smiled sadly and slowly offered her a hand up. She surprised them both by accepting
it and Alex shuddered at contrast between her slim cold fingers and the warmth of her
body as she brushed past him like a darkly clad ghost. He watched, grave, as she quietly
saddled her mare, clearly lost to contemplative musings. Alex followed suit and they
rode out half an hour later without breakfast, once more under the imposition of Akayla's
silence, only, this silence was one he was loath to break.
He didn't know what could haunt the fierce Medjai leader so, and wasn't sure he wanted to
know enough to ask. He had nightmares enough of his own.