CHAPTER 2
"J'ai toujours aimé le désert. On s'assoit sur une dune de sable. On ne voit rien. On n'entend rien. Et cependant quelque chose rayonne en silence…"
"I always liked the desert. You sit on a sand dune, seeing nothing and hearing nothing. And somehow somethings radiate in the silence…"
-Antoine de Saint-Exupery
COURTYARD
EDESSA PALACE
"That was different," Iroh mused, crossing his gnarled arms over his chest.
Katara turned to look back in the direction that the prince had fled, her own brow puckering in confusion. When Iroh had described the prince to her, she never imagined that he would be so close to her own age. In truth, he looked no older than her own nineteen years. He was… unexpected? She thought back to that moment when his eyes had held hers. He towered a head over her, and had a warrior's body: all hard muscles and sinew. His simple tunic hadn't been enough to cover that.
But that wasn't what had held her attention.
It was his golden eyes, sparkling in the desert sun. Something that looked like a burn scar surrounded his left eye, but instead of diminishing their amber beauty, it only enhanced it. The scar added character, and told Katara that whatever his present might be, his past had been full of trials. As her eyes had met his, she had felt something… strange uncurl from the pit of her stomach. Some emotion she couldn't name.
"Maybe he just remembered something he needed to do?" Iroh's gravely voice queried. "Well, the harem is just down--"
"General Iroh, sir! Excuse Me! "
A General? Katara thought, shocked. She had mistaken the old man's dribblings about that game of Pai Sho and this cup of tea as the daily leisure activities of a scholar, or advisor. But a general?
The man in question paused, and looked around to see who had called his name. Katara turned, and saw a slim woman, who looked to be Katara's age, walking towards the two of them and waving happily. "Glad to see you're home again, sir!" She was dressed in a gauzy, nearly see-through pair of light green cropped paints that were gathered by a silver ribbon at the ankles. Her shirt was made of the same material, and Katara blushed when she how much bare skin the piece of clothing revealed. Her light brown hair was left unbound, and cascaded down her waist. Silver bracelets sparkled against her arms and wrists. If Katara had walked around dressed like this in her own village, her father would most certainly have disowned her.
"Ah, good afternoon Ty Lee," Iroh said warmly. "What are you doing out of the harem?"
Katara's hear sank. She was a consort? Those clothes were to become Katara's new uniform?
"I was with the honorable prince before he um…. Had something to attend to. Is this a new consort?" Ty Lee looked towards Katara, taking in her chained hands and dirty, ragged tunic.
Iroh nodded. "She was unexpected purchase. She hasn't spoken since I bought her, and I'm beginning to wonder if she can at all," he chuckled. "But I can tell by her eyes that she's kind. She'll be a good addition to you and your sisters."
Ty Lee smiled, and walked over and gently took the chain from Iroh that was attached to Katara's neck. "I can take her back to the harem, General Iroh. I think that the honorable prince abandoned me, so it's best I go back anyway before I get into trouble."
"Thank you," Iroh responded, and turned to look at Katara. "You're safe now. This is your new life. Stick close to Ty Lee, you can trust her." The way he spoke to her was the way Katara had seen her brother calm down skittish foals. He turned his attention to Ty Lee. "Take care of her, and I'll see you later at the reception."
Reception? Katara's heart sped up a little as she remembered what Iroh had said about her inception into the harem.
"They're usually fairly public…"
Katara swallowed. Please please don't be for me…
"Certainly! Have a good day, General, sir!" Ty Lee sang as she waved goodbye and began walking out of the courtyard and down a long, marble hallway.
Katara had no choice but to follow. As she did, she couldn't help but notice the sheer splendor of the palace. Mosaics laid with semi-precious stones, gold framing the marble archways, finely woven expensive silks draped over bare walls, fountains flowing not only in the courtyard, but inside the hallways as well. The men who traveled to Constantinople to trade came back with marvelous stories about the sheer wealth held within the city's walls, but Katara had never imagined them to be true. She had thought them fairytales, something to remembered alongside the many voyages of Sinbad.
"So… where are you from?" Ty Lee asked, her bare feet padding along on the mosaic floor.
Katara frowned. To be from a place meant that you held some attachment to it. All of her attachments had been destroyed.
"You don't feel like talking yet?"
Silence.
"That's okay, I understand! I was really nervous when I first came here, too. But then I met the other girls and everything turned out to be fine! Don't worry, you'll fit right in!" Ty Lee threw a glance over her shoulder towards Katara. "Er, well, once we get you out of those clothes and everything."
Katara looked down at her worn sandals and stained, shabby tunic. She must look like death.
As Ty Lee and Katara twisted through the palace, Katara realized that she liked the girl. Her simplicity and bubbly spirit were refreshing after the long trek through the desert.
Suddenly, Ty Lee stopped, and Katara looked up and saw that they stood in front of two huge, intricately carven wood doors.
"Here we are! The women's domain!" Ty Lee pushed open the doors, and Katara stood in shock at the view of her new home.
The harem was enormous. It was like an adjoining wing to the palace. An enormous atrium acted as its center, with hallways and rooms to the sides. The atrium itself was several times the size of the modest home Katara had lived in in Somas, and the ceiling soared nearly twenty feet in the air. Delicate ivory framework allowed light to stream through, and gauzy white fabric draped from the ceiling rippled slightly with the incoming breezes. At the center of the room was a huge, finely woven Persian rug that glisten with rich purples and metallic golds, and colorful pillows were scattered all over the floor. The northern wall of the atrium opened up onto a smaller courtyard, with shady date palms and whispering fountains.
It was… beautiful. Katara had never seen anything half as a magnificent.
Ty Lee giggled and clapped her hands happily at Katara's bewilderment. "Pretty nice, right? Aren't we lucky to get to live here?"
"Ty Lee," a sardonic voice asked, "Who the hell is that?"
Katara looked towards the noise, and saw a woman standing near the edge of the atrium with her arms crossed defensively over her chest. Her brown hair was piled high on top of her head, and her dark eyes narrowed as she took in Katara's dirty complexion, torn dress, and heavy chains. She was dressed in an outfit exactly like Ty Lee's, except hers was a deep crimson.
"Mai," Ty Lee began, "This is… oh, shoot. What's your name?"
Silence.
"Well, Iroh got her from his last trip to Constantinople, and he wants to put her in the harem with us. Isn't that great?"
Mai shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Just. Fantastic." Mai's dark eyes met with Katara's.
"You don't have a name?" she dryly asked.
Ty Lee nudged Katara when she didn't respond. "Mai's the kadin," she hissed towards her. "She's our leader and the prince's favorite! For your own sake, show her respect and answer her question."
"If you don't have a name," Mai continued from her place across the room, "I'll make one up for you."
Katara's chin lifted at her sardonic tone. There was something about Mai that Katara disliked on the spot. For the first time in days, she opened her mouth to speak. "My name's not important," she began, her voice steady. "Neither is where I'm from or why I'm here. I was treated like an animal, and sold to the highest bidder. My family is dead. My home is destroyed. I was bought, brought here. I have no past. No future."
Mai just stared at her. "That's nice. What's your name." It wasn't a question, but a demand.
"Mai," Ty Lee began but Mai cut her off.
"You want those chains off? You tell me your name."
Katara's eyes narrowed. "My name is Katara."
"Well, Katara," Mai said, crossing the room to stand dangerously close to her. "There are several rules here. One. I'm in charge. Two. You bathe regularly. Three. You never leave the harem unless you accompanied by an advisor or the honorable prince Zuko himself. Four. You get along with the other women. We're sisters here. Five. Zuko," she hissed, pulling on the chain at Katara's neck until her face was just inches from hers, "is mine. Understand? Mine. You look at him, you touch him, you tempt him, and I will know. I don't like sharing." She released the chain and looked at Katara through narrowed eyes. "Is that clear?"
Katara raised an eyebrow. "As crystal."
Mai scoffed and turned around. "Ty Lee," she said as she walked back towards the room of the atrium that she had left, "she's you're responsibility. Take the chains off, give her some clothes and for god's sake bathe her. She's starting to stink up the harem. And make sure you're not late for the reception!"
"You bet!" Ty Lee called after her. The door to Mai's room slammed shut.
"Well," she began. "That went as well as expected!"
Something akin to laughter bubbled out of Katara.
Ty Lee giggled. "Yeah, I can see where you're coming from but you have to understand that Mai's a bit… um, well, she can be a little overbearing to the girls. She's just protecting us. Ever since the honorable prince took power six months ago, there's been a bit of a power struggle as the old consorts fought to maintain control of the harem. But, Mai's the undisputed favorite! She spends more time with the honorable prince than anyone else. Well, now that I think about it, he doesn't really spend that much time with any of us, but she definitely sees the most of him."
"Where are the rest of the girls?" Katara asked, deliberately changing the subject.
"Oh, I'm so glad you're talking to me!" Ty Lee squealed happily. "I was worried that you were mute! The other girls are probably in their rooms, but you'll get to meet some of them later tonight. There's um… there's not that many of us, though."
Katara frowned. The stories she had heard of harems depicted women hanging off the walls, hundreds and hundreds of them living in close quarters.
"Yeah well, because the honorable prince took power rather forcefully, a lot of the women from the last sultan were traded off into other harems. We all were brought in from different cities. I heard that before the honorable prince took the throne, the old sultan kept over three hundred consorts! Could you imagine? My old harem only had forty women in it. But now… well, there's only six of us. Seven including you!"
Seven women in a harem? Seven? Even for a young prince, the number was simply unheard of.
So much for hiding.
"The sultan from Riyadh will be here later tonight for dinner," Ty Lee continued, "and there's going to be a big party in his honor! All of us are supposed to be there, and we get to dance and flirt with the soldiers and eat a lot of really good food!" Katara couldn't help but smile at her transparent glee. "But, beg your pardon and everything, you're um, not quite ready to go to the party."
"If I had a piece of gold for every time some tells me that," Katara answered wryly, "I could be my own sultan."
Ty Lee giggled and lifted one of the chains attached to Katara quizzically. "I think one of the servants can take these off for us. Then we can see about a bath and some new clothes!"
SULTAN'S CHAMBERS
EDESSA PALACE
Like a caged animal, Zuko paced.
Though his bedroom. His antechambers. His courtyard.
Bedroom. Antechambers. Courtyard.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
His mind whirled.
Why did I run? Why did I act like some adolescent idiot? I'm a sultan, not a pre-pubescent child. I never run. Not from my past, and from the duties I hold now. I didn't get where I am today by childish actions.
Zuko thought back to his bloody ascent to the throne, and how he and his uncle had reclaimed the birth right that was stolen from him by men his father thought he could trust.
Men who his father died trusting.
Even though he was only eleven when the betrayal had happened, the screams of his family and the members of the palace still haunted him at night. Iroh had found him in the harem as the rebels stormed the palace, and together they fled to the desert for safety. They had hid in a Kurdish camp, pretending to be tribesmen. It was only after all of his tears had been shed, after he had nothing left to mourn, as he lay on the floor of a small tent next to his sleeping uncle, that Zuko swore on the lives of everyone who had died that their deaths would not be in vain.
He would take back what was rightfully his.
And he had.
And after everything he had been through, after all of the deals, bloodshed, and the throne he had taken back by brute force, no one in his kingdom would have ever dreamed of calling him a coward. No one had ever seen him show any signs of weakness. Ever. He was the betrayed prince, the one who picked up the shattered pieces of his past and had put them together, piece by aching piece until he had found his place in the palace once again.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides. What is wrong with me? I've seen beautiful women before. My own harem is full of them.
But the woman his uncle had brought back from Constantinople was… achingly lovely. The same kind of beauty Zuko felt when he woke up early to watch the sunrise burst across the desert. Liquid light turning the vast emptiness into molten gold, and making the sand sparkle like special gemstones.
It was… strange. The woman held some sort of elemental pull over his body. He was inexplicably drawn to her.
She's a stranger, Zuko thought. I can't trust her.
But I can't stop thinking about her.
This woman, had managed to do what murder and ten years of life in exile had not: get under his skin.
She's trouble, Zuko. Stay away from her. Stay far, far away.
Somebody cleared their throat, and Zuko's head jerked up from his racing thoughts. Clearly outlined by the mid-day sun, he saw his uncle standing in the entrance to his chambers.
"How long have you been here?" Zuko snapped.
"Long enough to know, nephew, that something is bothering you. Do you wish to impart some of your misery upon me?"
Zuko crossed his arms defensively. "I'm fine. Don't worry about it. Has Ala-abin's presence been announced yet?" Zuko asked, referring to the sultan from Riyadh who was coming to discuss politics over the next few days.
Iroh smiled at his nephew's deft change of subject. Something was bothering him for certain, but, it was not Iroh's lot in life to worry. "His messenger just arrived," Iroh responded. "Ala-abin and his caravan will be here before sunset."
"Good. Has everything been finalized?"
Iroh nodded. "I made certain that everything is prepared for the sultan's arrival: the guest rooms, the battle drawings, and the reception. There is nothing you need to worry about."
Zuko scoffed. "This meeting is crucial to the future of my kingdom, uncle. Without support from Ala-abin, I can't continue my fight against Zhao."
At the mention of desert sheik who had orchestrated the bloody coup that led to the death of Zuko's family all those years ago, Iroh frowned. "Zuko, you have your throne. Isn't that enough?"
"Is it enough that I listened to my sister and mother scream for help as they were slaughtered by his men? Is it enough that the people of my father's kingdom were subjected to torture at his hands? Is it enough that we lived in exile for ten years, scheming and devising plans to regain the throne that is mine by divine right?" Zuko's words rang out angrily against the marble walls. In that moment, his eyes glittering with barely concealed rage, his body tense with the ghostly memories of his past, he was every bit the man his people whispered he was behind his back.
Prince Zuko.
The Betrayed.
"The man deserves to die for what he has done," Zuko gritted through clenched teeth.
Iroh heaved a heavy sigh. His nephew had fought desperately for everything he had ever achieved in his life. Zhao was Zuko's final step on his path of revenge. Zhao lived among the nomads, moving the with seas of sand, and surrounded himself with his army of trained rebel killers. He was feared in the desert, and his word was law amongst his people. Killing him would be no easy feat, which was why it was critical that Zuko gathered the support of other sultans in his campaign against him. Hopefully, if all went well tonight, Zuko would have an ally in Ala-abin.
"Revenge quenches bitterness the way salt water quenches thirst," Iroh muttered. Before Zuko could respond to his uncle's enigmatic words, Iroh inclined his head toward him in a slight bow. "I will see you at the reception, my prince."
With that, he left the chambers, and left Zuko alone to brood.
RECEPTION HALL
EDESSA PALACE
In the glow of the candles that were scattered by the thousands around the great hall of the palace, Katara studied the scene that was before her. The room was a swirl of colors and laughter. The entirety of the prince's court was there, along with several guests from the visiting sultan's. His soldiers lounged around low-slung tables, and eager courtesans tried to impress them. At the far end of the room, music wafted from fistulas and kettle drums, and a woman writhed eerily along with the music, small symbols at her fingers accompanying her movements. Servants carried platters piled high with honeyed dates, meats covered in couscous, and every imaginable food that Katara could think of. Near the front of the room, at a long, low table flanked by guards and council members, sat the prince and the visiting sultan.
The sultan was a big, boisterous man, with a voice that carried throughout the entire room. His clothes were richly made, and enormous rubies and emeralds glittered around his neck and fingers. He laughed at something one of his councilmen had said, and turned to tell the prince. The prince, sitting beside him, frowned.
For some reason, that frown made Katara feel uneasy. She wanted to make him smile. This is ridiculous, she thought. I don't even know him. And yet… she couldn't help but be intrigued. His dark hair gleamed in the candle light, and every single move he made was careful, and artfully fulfilled. His grace was a surprising foil to all the raw power that his warrior's body possessed.
She caught a flash of red, and saw Mai place a platter of couscous and meat in front of him. She leaned down and whispered something in his ear, causing the prince to look up at her and say something. From the hurt look on Mai's face, it looked as if she had been reprimanded. She sank back to stand behind him. Katara remembered Mai's strong directions to her: Zuko is mine. Mine. Do you understand? I don't like sharing.
Amidst the dark clothes that the councilmen and advisors who sat with the prince and sultan favored, the rest of the harem consorts looked like birds of paradise. Ty Lee sat on the far side of the sultan, next to a younger looking advisor who seemed to hang of her every word. A girl Ty Lee had introduced as Suki was dressed in purple, and she stood near the end of the table, talking with an older man. Then there was Song, dressed in bright yellow, Yue who wore robes of pale blue, and Jin who was dressed in deep green. In the short time that Katara had to bathe and change, Ty Lee had made rushed introductions of all the girls. They seemed welcoming, and from the way they interacted with each other Katara could tell they treated the other girls as sisters. Now, they were scattered among the prince's and visiting sultan's advisors, doing everything possible to make the reception run as smoothly as possible.
From her hiding place in the shadows at the back of the room behind an alabaster column, Katara couldn't hide her small smile as she remembered Ty Lee's hurried instructions about how to act. Be nice to everyone, even if they're old and smell weird. And always smile, and do whatever any man tells you to do. Well, within reason. Stay close to the councilmen and advisors for both sultans. You're supposed to entertain them, so laugh at whatever they say and pretend they are the smartest, funniest, most attractive man you've ever met in your entire life. Look happy. You're supposed to be a reflection of the prince's court, and we don't want the sultan from Riyadh to think we're all miserable here, right? Right!
Katara inhaled deeply, and looked nervously down at the clothes that Ty Lee had carefully chosen for her. They were the same style as the bubbly consort's, but in a deep shade of cerulean. Gold bangles sparkled at her wrists and ankles, and Ty Lee had pulled her hair into a high horse's tail, securing it with thread upon thread of gossamer gold.
You look beautiful, Ty Lee had sighed after she surveyed her work. Every man there's going to want to talk to you!
Katara didn't feel beautiful. Even though she was clean and dressed in new clothes, she felt even dirtier than before. She'd never worn anything this revealing before, and would have been chastised for leading men on by her father if she had. Suddenly, she felt a sharp wave of sadness as she remembered her old life in Samos. My father and brother laughing as they carried home the fish they caught. The sound of waves braking acting as music for their dinner. Her mother's soft voice alongside the crackling of the fire in the hearth. The seagulls, the tinkering noise of village life. She'd been so happy there. In that moment, Katara would have given anything to be wearing her old clothes alongside her family and friends.
"Hiding from the party?"
She jumped at the unexpected voice, and turned to see one of visiting sultan's soldiers. He was tall, dark-haired, and the corner of his mouth was hooked up into a small smile.
"I'm not one for receptions either," he continued, surveying the hall. "Too noisy. Too many people trying to impress each other."
He turned back towards her, and placed an arm above her head, gently imprisoning her. She should have felt smothered, but there was something comforting about this young man. She found herself liking him in spite of herself. "I've been watching you for awhile. Even though you've been trying to hide, you stand out. You're one of the prince's, aren't you?"
She didn't answer. The thought of being another person's property, no matter how intriguing he may be, still made her feel slightly queasy. "That's all right," he said. "I won't ask you who you are and you won't ask about me. It's easier that way, right? And that way I won't feel guilty if you really are Zuko's," he muttered.
"That," Katara began, "sounds like a brilliant idea."
He laughed, and fingered one of the bangles at her wrist. "It's hot in here," he said, smiling down at her. "Do you want to go get some air?"
"Yes," she said instantly, jumping at the opportunity to leave the reception. He laughed again, and took her by the arm to lead her outside in the courtyards. Instantly, Katara felt herself relax a little. It was cooler outside, and quieter. The moon blazed above them, bathing the gardens in its celestial light. Delicate scents of jasmine and gardenia wafted out onto the night breeze. The sounds of the fountains whispered invitingly, and Katara moved over towards one.
Like a shadow, the young man soundlessly followed her.
"They're so strange," she said, running her fingers in the silky waters of the fountain. "I've never seen anything like them until a couple of days ago."
"What? The sultan's councilmen?"
She laughed softly, the delicate sound mixing with the soft whisper of the water. Drawn to the sound, the young man moved closer, like a chilled man looking for fire on a cold desert night.
"No," she continued. "These fountains. They're like rivers, but captured and imprisoned by mankind."
"Like you," the man continued.
Katara turned towards him and gave him a puzzled look. "You're like that river you're talking about, running wild and free. But now you're here. From your clothes, you look like you're part of Zuko's harem. Which mean's you're trapped in some sort of cage, too."
His hand moved and covered the one that she kept within the cool serenity of the fountain's waters. Suddenly, Katara began to feel uneasy. She liked the young man immensely, but the way he touched was far too intimate.
He leaned down and Katara felt his breath stir her ear. "You're the most beautiful thing I've seen out here in this desert wasteland. Every single guy at that reception noticed you, no matter how hard you tried to hide from them."
She took swallowed nervously, and tried to pull away from the young man as kindly as she could.
He ignored her attempts. "I know we agreed on no questions or answers, but please tell me you're not Zuko's. Please tell me its okay that I touch you. I'm dreaming right? This has to be a dream. You can't be real…you just can't belong to Zuko."
"She does," a low voice growled.
Startled, Katara's head snapped up. There, underneath the portico that led to the gardens, stood the honorable prince himself. Every time Katara saw him, she felt her heart beat quicken. He stood with his back to the reception, and the candle light from the hall lit him up from behind like some sort of fallen angel. His golden eyes glittered as he surveyed the scene in front of him.
The young man slowly backed away from Katara. "I should've known it was all too good to be true," he chuckled. He swept into a deep bow. "So pleasant to see you, Zuko. This time on the throne as the honorable prince instead of the last time I saw you, when you were known as the betrayed."
Katara saw Zuko's hands clench into fists. How is this man getting away talking to the prince like that?
"What are you doing outside?" The young man said, taking a step towards him. "I thought you were too busy discussing revenge with father to come say hello to me."
Father? Could this man be the son of the visiting sultan?
"Well, Jet," Zuko said carefully. "We were about to retire to my antechambers to discuss politics further. When no one knew where you had gone, I volunteered myself to go look for you. Who knew you were out here, trying to seduce one of my consorts." Katara heard the barely concealed displeasure that dripped from his voice.
"Tell father I'll be there in a couple of minutes," Jet said, turning back to look at Katara who had shrank against the fountain in an effort to hide.
"No." Zuko's voice was firm. Unyielding. "You leave now. My palace. My rules."
Jet laughed uneasily. "Jesus, Zuko. What's gotten into you?" He looked over at Katara and gave her a smile that could have melted a block of ice. "I guess I'll leave now. See you around, huh?"
Katara swept into a bow. Two princes in one room. Where am I? She wondered incredulously.
As soon as Jet had turned the corner, Zuko pinned her with a heavy golden glare. He glowered at her for several moments, before saying "Here not even a day and you're causing me embarrassment. What do you think would have happened if I hadn't have found you? That he would have just let you go?"
Katara's hands started shaking.
"Well?" he continued angrily.
"I-I didn't know that he was the sultan's prince, I just wanted--"
"You wanted? Little girl," he sneered, "don't you know that you don't have any wants anymore? Unwanted or not, you're my consort now. You follow my wants and needs. Do you understand?"
Katara's chin lifted defiantly at the onslaught from the prince. "I understand perfectly, honorable prince."
Zuko scowled. "Good. Then get out of my sight, and go back to the harem. Where you belong."
It took every fiber of Katara's being to not lash out at Zuko. What gave him the right to treat her like this? Like he…Owned Me? I lost all of my own rights the moment those rebels stole into my home and murdered my family. That thought alone more than anything sobered her actions. She straightened her spine, and swept past Zuko and back into the reception.
Zuko watched her go, his teeth grinding in frustration. He had been harsh with the girl. Too harsh. But when he had stepped out into the cool desert night and saw his childhood friend Jet wrapped around the girl like an exotic vine, something inside him had snapped.
He sighed, and a ran a shaking hand through his black hair. The woman had a disastrous effect on his control. Dressed in the clothes of his harem, with gold bangles glittering at her wrists an ankles and dirt scrubbed off her face, she was every bit the beauty he remembered from the courtyard this morning. He had seen her in the shadows at the back of the room, and watched as the men at the reception had looked at her with hungry eyes. Even as there, reprimanding her and feeling annoyance course through his veins, it had taken him nearly all of his barely leashed restraint not to grab the girl and gentle her nerves with a kiss.
"What am I going to with her," he wondered aloud to himself. She was a distraction he didn't need. Now, at this time in his life, there was only one thing that mattered.
Zhao.
No matter what the cost, he thought, I will have my revenge. And no blue-eyed girl will stand in my way.
Mina34: Hey everyone, HAPPY FRIDAY!
Just a few things:
gretlcascade: Aww thanks, I'm glad you liked it so much! This story's AU, so essentially I kept all the characters (because I love them so much!) but unfortunately, they won't have any of their bending abilities.
Juliet: We'll have to wait and see!
Xia Cheyenne: Ancient arabia fascinates me too, and don't worry, this story will definitely be completed.
AnnaAza: thanks, that's one of the best compliments I've had!
Everyone else thanks SO much for all of your reviews, I really appreciate them! Anyway, tell me what you think with questions/comments/constructive criticism because (sighs) I can't read minds...
TA!