Temptation and Salvation in the Desert
Warnings: AU, 3x4, yaoi, language, lime, some sap…and pretty much a little of everything else in case I missed something
Notes: Arabic used in the story, see end notes for translations
By NostalgieMalaak
The sound of dripping water was the first thing Trowa noticed upon waking. The second was that it was pitch black in…wherever he was.
With a small moan of pain he tried to draw himself up, but found he was too weak to even shift his legs. A tiny cry of frustration and fear forced its way past his lips which he bit down on to stifle anymore noise. A thin trickle of blood ran down his chin from his achingly chapped lips. Crying wouldn't do him any good. He hadn't cried when Duo died. He hadn't even cried when his parents had died. Cathy had needed him to be strong then. He wasn't about to start crying now. Especially over himself.
In his dazed and pitiful state he didn't even bother to wonder how he had come to be in such a cool dark place, lying on a soft blanket.
When he awoke again there was light. At first it was too bright for his weary eyes and he screwed them shut in an effort to prevent further pain. Light airy footsteps like those of a delicate bird came closer to where he lay. The sweet smell of jasmine filtered past his senses and he opened his eyes to behold two blurry objects standing before him.
He eyes finally adjusted to the light, which really wasn't all that bright, and he found himself staring at two slender legs standing by his head. In the next moment a soft hand came down on his forehead and brushed back his wild tangle of hair. That wonderful silky feeling on his face made him yearn for more and he leaned into the touch, a little sound of pleasure making itself known deep in his throat.
The person above him cooed softly and reassuringly before reaching behind and grabbing an oddly shaped bag. A wooden nozzle protruding from the top was placed gingerly against Trowa's lips and his almost renounced his recent thoughts to weep with joy as cold sweet water sprung forth to quench his dust-dry throat and mouth.
His savior only let him drink in little sips, most likely so that his stomach wouldn't become upset. Then he lay back again against the smooth blanket below him and looked up at the person tending to him.
The first thing that struck him was how young he was. Not much older than a child! He thought.
The next was that he was captivated by the most stunning blue-green eyes he had ever seen. They were the color of the Mediterranean sea and swam with life and kindness. A thatch of pure white-blonde hair standing out in sharp contrast with his lightly tanned skin peaked out of an Arab-looking head covering. Overall, Trowa concluded that never before had he laid eyes on such strange beauty.
The blonde knelt down beside him and pulled another blanket on top of his patient. Trowa noticed that now that he was no longer in the burning sun he was very cold. Probably an effect of these terrible sunburns.
When the other boy's arms came close he noticed that they, and in fact all the noticeable parts of his body, were stained a delicate robin's egg blue. This seemed to give his eyes an even more blue appearance and Trowa was captivated by the very oddness of the other boy.
With a few soft words in a foreign tongue the small Arab got up from Trowa's side with a fluid motion and went off beyond the range of the firelight. Or at least Trowa thought he was an Arab. He wasn't sure any other people would be out in the desert, dressed as the boy was. However, his limited knowledge of Arabic told him that what the boy had said was not in that language. Trowa looked around the cave he was in trying to spot him again, but sleep overwhelmed him and soon he was gently snoring.
Awaking sometime later he was relieved to find his Arab friend (as he had taken to thinking of him for lack of knowing his name) back in the cave and puttering around the small fire. It smelled strangely and Trowa was pretty sure it was some sort of animal dung that was being used. Though strange, the smell was not strong and Trowa could tell that sweet smelling herbs had been placed over the fire to counteract any odor. The smoke from the fire drifted lazily up to the ceiling where it disappeared into large dark cracks. Trowa surmised that the breaks in the cave ceiling twisted and shifted all the way up to open air because he could see no real light coming in from anywhere.
Seeing that he was awake the Arab came over to his side. He gently bathed Trowa's face, neck, and hands. The delicious coolness of the wet cloth made him shudder a little and smile up at the little blonde. The Arab smiled back and patted his arm affectionately.
Trowa thought about the Arabs he had met through his and his friends' travels through the Middle East. They were always so warm and hospitable. Caring for strangers seemed ingrained in their culture. It would appear that this young boy was to be no different than that, though his looks were much different than other desert dwellers he had met. He had heard however that some groups in north Africa, most specifically Berbers, could potentially have light skin and eyes.
Whatever his appearance or social upbringing, the boy was so very kind with him in every gesture and move he made. After being washed Trowa was propped up against a smooth stone and fed some sort of delicious, paste-like food washed down with the clearest water he had ever drank.
Unlike the last time he had been awake Trowa was determined to make an attempt at speaking, or at least communicating with his kind host.
"Umm…marHaba?" He said hesitantly. The 'hello' sounded utterly ridiculous and foreign even to Trowa and he wished that he had paid more attention to what Cathy had been trying to teach him a bit of the Arabic language.
"Ahlan wa sahlan fiik! HaDirtak shu l-ism il-kariim?" the boy rattled off with such speed and beautiful fluency that even if Trowa had been taught what all those words meant he would not have been able to understand them.
"Uhhh…I don't…I'm sorry," he fumbled around trying desperately to think of something else he could say in the boy's language.
"Oh," the boy said softly, nodding his head in understanding. "Ajnabi."
With a deft move the boy touched his own chest with fingers splayed and said, "Cat-eh." Or at least that's what Trowa thought he said.
Trowa copied his gesture and stated as clearly as he could his own name.
"Il-baraka," the boy replied.
Cat-eh, Trowa knew he was pronouncing the name wrong even in his mind, smiled as he tried to say Trowa's name, but couldn't quite get his mouth around the hard 'r'. They both laughed then as they both realized that even saying each others' names was going to be a problem. However they came up with a solution soon enough.
"How about I just call you Cat, ok?" Trowa asked. The boy just cocked his head at him, a little look of puzzlement and amusement crossing his features.
Pointing to the boy, Trowa firmly said "Cat." The boy seemed to think for a moment before deeming his new nickname workable. Then with a grin he pointed at Trowa and said: "Asad."
Not understanding where that had come from Trowa returned the look of puzzlement. Cat swept a gesturing hand at the thick hair that fell around Trowa's face. Still not understanding the taller youth gave a shrug of incomprehension. After thinking for a bit and then breaking out into a boyish smile, Cat got down on his knees and began snarling, growling, and roaring in imitation of a wild animal. Trowa grinned. So he had been dubbed 'lion' it seemed. He was content with his new nickname thinking it actually suited him pretty well. Both boys fell about the makeshift campsite laughing over their strange new names. Trowa thought that Cat's laugh sounded like bright bells in the wind. It was wonderful.
XXXXXXXX
It wasn't until many days later that Trowa had the strength to move about on his own. It seemed odd to him that he had not only survived his time in the desert, but had recovered at a remarkable rate. He thought it might partially have been due to Cat and his tender ministrations. Trowa had certainly enjoyed being pampered. And he had enjoyed getting to know the other boy. Though the language barrier proved to be a nuisance, it didn't hinder them as much as he thought it might. So much could be conveyed through simple but meaningful gestures, or a tone of voice. That and Cat was rapidly picking up the English language which frankly amazed Trowa.
Although having studied a foreign language in school, Trowa had never seemed able to get beyond the basics. Arabic, or the language that Cat spoke when muttering to himself which sounded different than the speech other Arabs had used, was proving no less difficult for him. He was however content to teach Cat English who seemed much more willing and capable of learning.
"Asad?" Cat called as he entered the campsite. Trowa had yet to explore beyond the cave they temporarily lived, but he was sure that they were deep within a huge network of winding passages and the occasional broadened room. Also it looked like there had been many people who had come through the area before. Shelves and sleeping spaces had been carved out of the rock and scattered about were broken clay dishes. When Trowa had tried to ask his friend who the others were he had smiled and pointed to his chest, then made a sweeping gesture to include the space around him. His people, or tribes like his, Trowa supposed.
"I'm here Cat," Trowa called back.
"Good!" the Berber replied with vigor. 'Good' was one of the earliest words he had picked up.
Placing the now filled water skin on the floor, Cat sat down on his own blankets and motioned Trowa over to him. Knowing what was to come, the taller youth sat down comfortably. Cat began his check-up on his patient as he had done every day since Trowa had woken up.
As the boy's fine boned hands ran over him, checking for any signs of discomfort on the sun darkened skin, Trowa couldn't repress the little trill of pleasure that ran through him.
Cat smiled knowingly and reached around his ribs to tickle him. Trowa giggled and playfully swatted the hands away. Never had he been able to connect with a human being this way. Even without a common language Trowa had been able to understand and be understood by the blue-eyedBerber so much better than anyone before. Even Cathy hadn't been able to reach him this way and make him laugh after the death of their parents.
Cat stood up and pulled a happy Trowa up with him. With sure steps the boy began leading him out of the maze of tunnels. Just as Trowa had thought they were ensconced quite far in the cliff face.
As they approached the surface, shafts of brilliant sunlight fell through window-like holes in the cliff side. Trowa was captivated by the beauty and majesty of the desert as seen from high up in the cliffs. Dunes undulated and glimmered like a golden sea below them.
Coming outside wasn't as difficult as Trowa imagined. The sun was tolerable and even the heat didn't really affect him. Cat smiled happily as the warmth washed over them and chased away the chill from the cave. He was truly a child of the heat and desert.
Led along like a little child, Trowa soon found himself in down in a small valley between the cliffs. One end was blocked up with massive boulders and a lovely waterfall splashed down their worn faces. A pool had gathered at the bottom of the falls. It was a lightly muddied from the sand and rocks, but just the perfect temperature for bathing. Brilliant green palm trees and bits of foliage dotted the surrounding area. The whole oasis looked like it had sprung out of a picture book. Trowa was entranced.
Cat gave his hand a final squeeze before sprinting off to dive into the pool. He resurfaced with a shout of laughter, shaking water and soaked bangs out of his eyes. Trowa followed with a much more sedate pace. The water felt achingly cool and soothing against his body as he let himself float face-up for a time.
When the two finally climbed out of the pool they were refreshed both in body in mind. Their cloths however had become soaked and wetly smacked against them with every move. They were however much cleaner than they had been before. Trowa thought this was a good way of quickly washing clothing.
Cat meanwhile had walked a ways beyond the pool where Trowa finally noticed a tent had been set up in the shade of the trees. He staggered over, a happy dog-ish smile playing on his lips.
The blonde Berber poked his head of the tent and shooed him off as he got closer. Trowa pretended to be hurt before sneaking around to the back to catch his friend unawares.
Flinging back the heavy folds of tent fabric Trowa saw the reasoning for Cat's hasty disappearance. The boy was completely nude and had been in the process of changing back into his dry set of bright blue robes.
With a startled yelp at being discovered, Cat tried vainly to cover his fast blushing body with anything that came to hand. Trowa just laughed at the sight and soon the Berber youth was grinning sheepishly back at him, a blanket keeping him decent.
The tent that Cat had sometime put up was elegant and cozy. Scattered along the floor were richly colored carpets and soft looking blankets and pillows. With a contented sigh Trowa made to sit down on the lush coverings but a tsking Cat held him at bay. He was also holding a set of cloths out for the tall youth. Taking the hint, Trowa took the traditional desert garments being offered and left the tent to change.
Minutes later a very embarrassed, secretly pleased, and very nude Trowa went running for dear life as his vengeful little friend chased him about the oasis, laughing wildly.
That night a happily exhausted Trowa climbed into the nest of blankets and pillows within the tent. The cave had been a good place for him to heal away from the harsh sun and heat but he was glad to be back in the fresh air. And the tent was much smaller than the cave which meant that he would be able to see his little blonde friend much better as he slept.
Though Trowa knew it was silly, he felt an overwhelming need to protect and watch over the Berber. He knew that there was no need for it. The boy knew what he was doing and wouldn't have been out in the middle of the desert alone if he hadn't.
Which was another odd thing. Where was the boy's family? Or his tribe? Surely they wouldn't have let him live out here on his own. Perhaps he was on some sort of coming of age journey. But if that were so, why would he have brought such nice blankets and such with him? And how was there always enough food for the both of them?
Questions ran through Trowa's mind for many minutes until he received a welcome distraction. After putting out the small cook fire just outside the tent Cat had returned and was curling up for sleep in his own section of the tent. He gave Trowa a sleepy smile and slightly mumbled 'good night' before promptly falling asleep. Trowa loved the way Cat pronounced the English words, with all the vowels drawn out and the distinct way he pronounced 't's like sharp 'd's. And he loved the way he looked in sleep. His face was relaxed and his skin looked paler than it did in the daylight. The blue tinting was even more pronounced in the half-light. Trowa thought that this must be what people had in mind when they wrote poetry about nymphs or fairies.
Trowa wished he was a poet so he would have the words to describe the beautiful wonderful person that lay next to him at night, the gentle rise and fall of his chest the only motion in his relaxed stillness.
XXXXXXXXX
The long days following Trowa's rescue were spent learning the ways of the desert. Cat was a patient teacher and reveled in the foreign boy's astonishment at his teachings.
Trowa was beside himself with happiness. Not since the tragic death of his best friend Duo and then the later passing of his parents had he felt so wonderful. He smiled without reservation and even laughed when he felt like it.
And it was Cat that had brought about all of these feelings. Gentle, caring, and possessing a wicked sense of humor, the sweet boy had quickly become a dear friend to Trowa.
They played together in the warm pool, climbed the rocks that wrapped around them and protected them from the harsh wind and blowing sands, and flew across the sands on Cat's beautiful horse.
Nighttime was spent around the campfire, both too exhausted to do anything but sit and stare lazily into the flames. Then they would get up and go into the tent. Sometimes Cat would fall asleep by the fire, a little smile still playing on his face, and Trowa would scoop the smaller boy up and bring him inside for the night. Other times Trowa would lay down next to the Berber and shift closer and closer to him until they were almost touching. Many mornings found the two cuddled together like puppies amidst scattered blankets and pillows.
It may have been weeks or even months for all Trowa knew before he thought of Cathy and his friends again.
When he did he was racked with anguish and guilt for being so wrapped up in himself. They would think he had died by now. There was no way he could have survived as long as he did under normal circumstances. Trowa had no illusions that what had happened to him was normal in the least.
Cathy would be devastated. Not only would she have lost her parents but also her baby brother. She wouldn't have anyone left. Unbidden, hot salty tears sprang into his eyes and he let them spill down his cheeks.
Almost immediately there was a warm comforting presence at his side. Slender arms wrapped themselves around his chest.
"Don't cry, Asad. No no. No cry. Is good. Everything is good."
"Everything is not good Cat," Trowa gasped out. "I'm a terrible person!"
"Why?" Came Cat's airy tenor. "You are good. Very good person. And I…"
"What?" Trowa asked miserably, choking back his sobs.
"I…" Cat floundered for a moment trying to think of the right words to say.
"Ana Bahebbak," he finally said, sincerity and a little shyness coloring his words. Trowa just shook his head in incomprehension.
Trowa was startled a moment later when soft lips were pressed against his own. Tear stained eyes looking up in amazement, he watched as Cat sat back on his heels, a small smile and a blush on his face.
"I guess it's really true that actions speak louder than words," Trowa replied, laughing a little and wiping at the tear tracks on his cheeks with the back of his hands.
After a moment of thought, he stroked the other boy's silken cheek and whispered, "I love you too." He carefully inched forward and pressed equally gentle kisses to Cat's forehead, cheeks, nose and mouth. Cat was sighing a little and his blue-green eyes slipped shut in enjoyment.
After that Trowa lost track of what happened in what order. He vaguely recalled sweet kisses both innocent and not so innocent. Feather light touches that made his body arch in pleasure. Burning looks that made him yearn and ache in all the right places. And then looking down at his friend and lover as he slowly joined them in body and soul.
Hours later, Trowa looked down on the sleeping blonde nestled in his arms. After making love that was more tender and sweet and wonderful than the youth had ever imagined it could be, they went for a swim in the pool to combat the heat. Sleepy and sated they later returned to the tent to rest during the hot part of the day.
Trowa couldn't quite believe that the gentle, caring, clever soul that was cradled in his arms was real. Nothing so wonderful could be part of this world. The period of time that had been spent with Cat had not only healed his physical ailments, but had also touched a part of his soul that he had thought lost forever in the sorrows of his youth.
He ran his fingers through the baby fine blonde hair and watched in contentment as the boy snuggled closer and flopped a trusting arm over Trowa's bare chest. Wrapping his arms around the slender Berber and entwining their legs, he placed a soft kiss on the blonde's temple. Moments later both were lost in a blissful sleep.
Just in case you were curious…
The Arabic I used in the story is the kind spoken in Jordan. Other countries in the Middle East speak different dialects of Arabic. The story however is meant to take place in the Sahara. I don't know anything in Tamarshak which is probably what Cat (Quatre) would be speaking as a Tuareg (Berbers who live mostly in Morocco, Algeria and other parts of the Sahara). He does however say a few things to Trowa in Arabic since Trowa says hello to him in that language. He probably would be able to speak Arabic since it is the most prevalent language of North Africa
The Tuareg Berbers, especially those who live in the desert as nomads, wear a distinctive blue outfit which actually does stain there skin a blue-ish color. They are consequently often called Blue Men. I thought it was also interesting that only the men, not the women veil in their society and that marriage is monogamous. In fact, women are the ones who inherit, not the men. Often it is only the women who know how to read and write.
Now for actual translations of things:
marHaba: 'hello'
Ahlan wa sahlan fiik: a common greeting in reply to someone saying hello, like 'hello to you as well!'
HaDirtak shu l-ism il-kariim: polite way of asking 'what's your name' to a man
Ajnabi: 'foreigner'
Il-baraka: 'God's blessing,' a nice way of responding to someone who told you their name after being asked for it
Asad: 'lion'
NostalgieMalaak
