Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: Written: 2012. Rewritten: 2014. Found: 2018.

She awoke in the middle of the night; they lay together among the blankets, not touching. It had become an unspoken agreement that they would not consummate their marriage that night. She was not ready, and surprisingly, he wasn't either. It wasn't necessarily that they were too young, that played a part, yes, but it was more because she was uncomfortable in regards to it, and he did not want to upset her more. So they lay together among the blankets, not speaking, just staring at each other until both fell asleep.

As she blinked the sleep from her eyes, she pushed herself up, glancing over her shoulder. He was still sound asleep. After a moment, she slowly got up, reaching for her clothes. She removed the buckskin dress they had placed her in, and quickly changed back into her clothing before slipping out of the tent. The encampment was dark, silent, still. She turned her gaze heavenward; stars resided above, a splash of twinkling lights to keep her company.

Was she really going to try and return to her family? Could she? Or, more importantly, would she survive the journey? She didn't know how far away from her family she was, how far she had traveled since being captured, but she had to try. She did know that she'd seen a river at some point. What had Papa told her once?

If you're ever lost in the wilderness, follow the river. It will lead you home.

She sighed. Follow the river. Now she just had to find it.

Slowly, silently, she began to make her way out of the encampment, following the stars as best she could.

Eventually, she came across the river.

As she began to follow it, she stopped, hearing something close by. A cracking branch. It was either an animal or a person, but she didn't have the courage to turn around and look. So she kept going. She walked for miles, keeping to the river, never looking back. Her thoughts turned to her family. They had to be looking for her, she knew they were. They wouldn't just give up on her. They couldn't. She was their oldest daughter.

Her thoughts had her so buried in worry that she didn't see the sloping embankment, and she slipped. Her ankle twisted and she went down, crying out. The person following her stopped, and knelt beside her. Slowly, she looked up, surprised to see him behind her. He held a finger to his lips, and then reached down, gently checking her ankle. He then stood, helping her to her feet and then scooping her up when she started to go down because she couldn't put weight on her ankle. "Why did you follow me? I don't want to live with your people. I want to go back to my family."

Eventually, they returned to the camp, to their tent, and he gently set her down before removing her boot and quickly checking her ankle. She hissed as he applied gentle pressure to it, and watched as he moved away, retrieved something from a small satchel and returned. After removing her torn stocking, he began gently applying something to her ankle, and she hissed briefly before finding that the pain was slowly dissipating.

"What is that?"

He met her gaze. "Salvare."

"A salve?" She whimpered softly. "For... healing?" He thought a moment, before nodding. He worked in silence, and she watched, noticing how gentle his hands were, though they were rough, as though he had done work similar to her father. This was the Crown Prince, this teenager she had been forced to marry. The prince she had been bought for, like a Glikkin in the Glikkin slave trade up north. Though she was in a fairly better position than a Glikkin, she supposed, though she didn't see how. She was a captive of a Native tribe; she'd heard stories of pioneers crossing through their territory and being attacked, like her family and their wagon train had been. She'd heard of the horrors that the Natives put their captives through before killing them-

And yet, she'd been shown nothing but kindness since being bought by the Arjiki. They had fed her, clothed her, given her shelter, a new name, and though they'd forced her into marriage to their young prince, it was evident that they did so because it was what was best for her. She watched him in silence, saw how he gently cradled her ankle as he worked, before gently wrapping a length of softened animal hide about and securing it.

Their eyes locked as he finished, and after a moment, he sat back, giving her space. They sat in silence for several minutes, before she finally spoke. "I'm... I'm sorry." He looked up from studying the pattern of her dress. "I just... I miss my family. I want to go home." Her eyes welled with tears and she began to cry; instantly, he was by her side, gently catching her tears and brushing them away with soft kisses to her skin. Her eyes closed instinctively, and after a moment, she tilted her head to look up at him.

In that moment, she realized that she wasn't looking at a savage. She was looking at a boy, really, forced into a situation he probably wasn't too thrilled to be in either. He wasn't as savage as she thought he was; he was just raised differently. His society was different to hers, though similar. What she saw as savage, was normal for him and vice versa.

He studied her for several minutes, before gently cupping her cheek. Slowly, she reached up, grasping his wrist, but she didn't pull away. They watched each other for several seconds, before slowly meeting in the middle. Their lips brushed together softly in a tender, gentle first kiss, that meant so much more than what it was.