Theme number twelve - Awake.

FJSDL:AS"A need to stop writing these late desert themes AAH D:

Please bear with me as I try to get over this stage. I think the next theme is pretty un-desert-y though; and the one after that too. Argh. Must get over writing so many things about their journey to/back from Amestris.

Also Ling gets quite OoC in this one x.x

The night was crisp and clear, and the stars were bright. It was pleasantly cool as well for once; Lan Fan could feel the gentle breeze swaying her black hair. She longed to take off her mask to feel the wind more clearly, but she didn't dare. If Grandfather found out she would surely get into big trouble.

But he wasn't awake now, was he? Fu was silently sleeping next to a tent pole, a blade gripped in his hands. He had been like that for the past hour or so. Lan Fan raised her hands to remove the string that tied to decorated face to her head—and then Fu rolled over and shifted, grunting. The young warrior froze at once, before slowly lowering her hands into her lap. She folded her fingers over the handle of a kunai rather than the strings of her mask. And it stayed that way for nearly two hours. Lan Fan kept the same stiff posture and the same firm grip on her kunai without moving a single inch.

The breeze surfaced again, and the ends of her hair tickled her chin, making her twist her lip in discomfort. How Lan Fan wished to remove her mask again, but she dared not. With Grandfather sleeping so close, it was a too risky of a gamble to take.

There was a small crunch, as if someone's shoe had stepped on the gritty sand. Lan Fan immediately leaped up, holding her blades out. "Who's there?" she demanded. "Show yourself at once!"

"It's only me."

She froze. "Young Master?"

"None other."

"You should be sleeping."

"You've told me that for the past few years when I've woken up, Lan Fan. Give me a break. Sometimes I can't sleep. I'm just awake."

"Oh." She fell silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. There was the sound of the sand being pushed away, and she realized that Ling was sitting next to her, his sword carelessly tied across his back.

Lan Fan winced. Situations like these were the ones she tried to avoid the most: being alone with the Young Master with her grandfather either out of sight, unaware of the situation, or asleep.

"Young Master," she said, choosing her words carefully, "While you may not be able to sleep right now you should at least try to rest inside. It is more comfortable there, and you need to regain your energy try. We have much ground to cover tomorrow."

"So what about you?" Ling challenged. "I bet you haven't slept or rested in a comfortable tent in days."

She didn't answer again. Ling knew that he had won, but her stubbornness refused to let it be so. Instead, he settled more comfortably on the ground. "It's really cool tonight."

"Mm." Lan Fan watched as he held a hand out to feel the surprisingly cool desert wind. "I suppose it would."

"'Suppose?'"Ling turned and watched her for a moment. "Of course you would say 'suppose', because you don't have your mask off and can't feel anything," he said slowly. "Well then, I suppose I'll just have to remedy that."

Before she could even react, her mask was already lying in her lap, the strings pulled apart. The wind rushed into her bare face, moving her hair freely. A grain of sand struck her cheek, but the stinging sensation that followed wasn't bad. In fact, it felt more like a drop of freedom rather than a sharp sand grain.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Ling picked up a handful of sand and let it run through his fingers. "You shouldn't keep your mask on all the time, Lan Fan. You're missing out on a lot. Give yourself a little freedom from time to time, when Fu's not looking. Besides," he added, "That mask hides your beautiful face from me, Lan Fan, and I want to see it."

"Young Master!" she cried, before slapping a hand over her mouth, realizing her grandfather was a light sleeper. They had been talking in low whispers beforehand, so it would be unlikely that he would have heard them. But now…surely he would have wakened at her sudden outburst.

Ling stood up. "I'd better go," he said in a whispered undertone. "But don't keep all of these nights to yourself, Lan Fan. Share it." And he vanished into the folds of the tent, the flaps still gently swaying before a hand reached out and tied them shut with a leather cord.

There was a brief silence, before there was another grunt, and then a voice. "Lan Fan?"
She hurried tied her mask back onto her face. "Yes, Grandfather?"

"I thought I heard something. Was there anything?"

"No, Grandfather," she replied. "There's nothing. It's a clear night." Lan Fan turned her head to face the night sky. "Absolutely clear. It's perfect."

"Hmph." Fu grumped. He turned his back to her. "Is that so? Then make sure it stays that way, then."

"Yes," Lan Fan answered. "I will."

Words: 867

Additional Notes: None.

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