Chapter Three
Lightning awoke in the dawn, pale rose fingers of sunrays reaching in through the gauzy curtains, illuminating the room with a soft glow that made her feel peaceful inside today. She got up and lazily stretched before the view, missing the imprint of disturbed dust on the window ledge as she worked the muscles to life for the day's tasks ahead of her. She inhaled deeply and took in a heady unknown scent that clung to her for the rest of the day; looking down on the window ledge, a single cactus flower had been set in a clay bowl of water; a bloom of such fragility and beauty that she had never seen the likes of before and she marveled at it, almost intoxicated at the scent, the smooth waxy petals shaped like a lotus with an upstanding ruff of stamens, all tinged with a pale icy rose tint that reminded her of Serah's hair.
Noel Kreiss. It had to be Noel – who else could find such rare exquisite things in the desert? She had the rest of the day to puzzle why he'd done such a thing; flowers didn't seem to be his style, nor was it Lightning's; she'd told herself time and time again, she'd rather have a roof over her head, a meal on the table and sharp gunsaber over a bouquet of flowers or a necklace, but Serah would laugh and tell her one day, she'd have a face to face with her femininity, and femininity would win, no crossing nature! Then she would be gently teased into doing whatever Serah wished, whether it was putting on one of her softly colored garments, letting Serah brush her hair until it shone like pink diamonds, or patiently trying Serah's dance steps. It wasn't that they were wrong, it just didn't quite feel like it fit her, like it fit her sister. Serah made being feminine seem so natural, so easy. She was so proud of her and whimsically wondered how she'd advise her confused older sister through this mess of an affair. Taking a page from Serah's examples of romantic relationships, she came to the conclusion the gift of the cactus flower was a proud, yet shy man's attempt at an apology or a peace offering for being a disagreeable infatuated fool, and couldn't get out the words I made a mistake, I crossed the line. The inability to say 'I'm sorry' seemed to be also another quirk of a Pulsian man's nature.
He had behaved prettily again today, even relaxed enough to shyly grin as they bent over, resting hands on knees breathing hard & sweating after a good practice drill in blocking with shields; he'd caught the clinging scent of the flower despite the sweat and dirt, and something in his face relaxed; then somehow they were at ease with each other again. No hyperawareness, no anger or jealous eyes, just a couple of soldiers in a group of soldiers working on plans and defenses with a healthy respect for each other. He sat by her during the dinner hour in the great hall, pouring her clear water instead of wine, and politely picking up a fork and spoon instead of using his hunting knife to eat.
He was also quietly insistent she eat a few ounces more of meat, and leave off the bread and dessert, cutting up some of the ever-present figs for her instead. Amused, she asked him why she needed to eat differently than the men; he smiled charmingly for once and answered with his own question: "Didn't you just answer your own question?" before going on to explain their bodies burned food in different ways when training as hard as they did; he assured her she would keep her curves, gain muscle, and sleep better if she ate like he'd fed her this night.
"So….kind of like...who saves the hero…from cake?" Lightning gently joked, trying to be clever like Serah. Noel threw his head back in a silent laugh, subtly amused; then his gaze warmed as he silently proffered her another precisely quartered bit of fresh fig on the tip of his knife, flipping the blade up to her cool rose lips. She unbent enough to carefully eat it off the blade, which pleased him and he continued to feed her the rest of the fig, under the now-envious eye of one commandant Johel. The way Noel idly spun his knife in his fingers while leaning back in his chair with a sardonic eye was not altogether lost on said man-whore that evening, either. Lightning actually felt relieved she didn't have to do polite verbal fencing with Johel and began to get the idea that having Noel hovering protectively about her was useful after all.
So, without any doubts or hesitation, Lightning made her way to Noel's room later after her shower to say something graceful and conciliatory about the peace offering. She'd taken to wearing the hooded desert djellaba the town markets offered when off duty, as it was loose and cool, common enough to not attract notice as everyone, men and women alike, wore one at some time or another. Serah would have insisted on having her sister wear one sheer enough to glimpse the outline of her slim curves, and likely would have also loved to see beautiful embroidery in intricate designs and soft glowing colors adorning her lovely sister, but it was a plain natural colored silk gauze flowing around the slim well shaped limbs striding down the hall in the evening. A trail of cactus blossom scent indicated one concession to her sister's would-be whims, as Lightning had thought wearing the bloom would be appropriate, she remembered the local desert people liked it when you used their gifts. Leaving something unused was akin to an insult.
A bare-chested bare-footed Noel opened the door cautiously and stood silently, not giving away that he was stunned to see his secret obsession in desert garb, a cactus blossom tucked in behind an ear and with something that looked like a hint of a smile in her eyes. He eyed her for a full 3 seconds with a blue eyed panther cub's interested innocent look, before an arm shot out and yanked Lightning in with the speed of scorpion's sting; the door slammed shut with snick of the lock a bare millisecond behind; before she could draw breath to say a thing, she was pushed up back against a wall, a slim muscular frame now between her legs with a sinewed arm pulling her djellaba up with one tanned calloused hand while the other held her in a grasp of steel leaving her gasping for breath; a tug at his wrapped pants left them in a puddle on the floor; stepping out of them, he simply plunged into her with a pure cloudburst of desire pouring down from heaven , flesh meeting flesh that was hot, hard, dry & throbbing; after she'd sucked in sweet air when the forearm lifted off her throat, she drew breath to snarl at him, eyes watering from the hot burn as he'd buried himself all the way in, but again, she was cut off with the swordsman's warm hand across her mouth to keep her from screaming; this time she bit deep enough to draw blood and make him stifle a moan of pain that was still somehow excitement. He then shifted his gaze back to her with a smoldering look before slowly lifting his hand to his mouth, licking and sucking the wound; the actions of the deep rose tongue and full lips on his own flesh somehow sent a signal of sexuality so hot and deep that it made Lightning throb for a moment; he stopped upon feeling that flutter and slowly his gaze warmed into the deep depths of the cerulean lake she had fallen into the other night and she felt herself drowning in a strange tsunami of otherworldly communication, sinking into something like horizontal depths, or perhaps vertical horizons where soul met soul sparking with contact in ultramarine and aqua irises.
He slowly extended his hand back to her face, deliberately setting the wounded hand back in place, resting it on her lips in a silent offering and gave her the slowest nod before ever so delicately, tenderly, kissing her face, her neck, hair, anywhere his lips could reach before he started to move his hips in an age old rhythm. He hissed in pain when she bit down again, but kept going until he felt the invisible wire of resistant tension snap in his beautiful partner; she was now accepting him, opening her legs wider, shaking the hand off her mouth and leaning in, silently beseeching for a taste of his mouth on hers. He cautiously laid his mouth on hers, then slowly welcomed her eager kisses, now letting himself answer just as eagerly until his hips slowed to a stop and they just stood there entwined against the wall, kissing as passionately as three nights before, too lost in each other to think of anything but the next kiss, the next caress that silently said yes. Yes, I want this, I adore I love I need…
Noel was on fire for her and wanted her on a bed, his bed, and all night again after being sucker punched by Lightning's eager response and decided to move things along, picking her up and carrying her, his hands grasping what had been euphemistically titled the juiciest piece of tail in the garrison by a swooning cadet before he'd been told it was the platoon leader and gunsaber master of his unit. Noel had been a bit more explicit with his knife on the cadet, but it didn't stop him from privately agreeing with the title.
But again, his thought process was different, the intent was not an affair to stave off ennui or gain experience. No, she was the goal; something in her had so completely captured him after eons of loneliness. Yuel would be waiting, but until they could resurrect the dead, or if his near immortal body could die, he was in this world, not the farside, or Etro's realm. He knew he should say something to her, tell her the things his heart held ever since he'd been caught by this fierce angel in Valhalla, but his feelings would overcome him in a great rush and all he could think about was seeing those aqua eyes limpidly gazing back at him as they were now; he carefully knelt on the bed and shifted his arms to cradle her as he lowered her back to the cool sheets and thought of what else he could do to capture her further tonight. He knew he'd eventually get to the traditional challenge and bind her to him, but it was not the time for that yet. He had to make her want him as much as he wanted her.
She looked absolutely edible lying there half exposed across his lap, with the fabric of the djellaba pushed up to her waist exposing the creamy satin hips marked with golden tan lines where she'd been exposed to the desert sun this past week; he was a passionate admirer of beauty, and she had it in plenty; he was becoming rapidly annoyed that the fabric was hiding the rest of her from his view and debated just tearing it off of her, as he wanted to stay inside her and not lose the intensity of the moment. He'd wanted to tear the armor off, too, when he'd first been dropped into Valhalla, but blinded by adoration he'd succumbed to her request to find her sister and guard her on her quest. Why did she affect him so? He searched for words to express this feeling, how the blood sang when they fought, and even more so when they were like this, painfully vulnerable with naked souls eyeing each other warily despite being clothed in skin, bone, muscles…mine…you must be mine and no others…
Noel stretched himself over her and eased onto his left side, still cradling her, her rose silk spilling over a tanned arm; a bare foot gently nudged his calf and hooked behind to keep close to him, another brief flare of ecstasy at being kept close instead being pushed away. It was a sweet reward after the struggle of the past weeks to get her to even look at him.
His search for a net of words to make his rose haired darling captive to his heart was eased when she asked into his shoulder "Why? Why'd you do it?"
He drew breath and let it out, then smiled into her hair so she wouldn't see the young man's eyes filled with lonely nights and longing for someone that was his match, a being that left him feeling exhilarated instead of sighing with forced tenderness he didn't feel in the least. When he spoke it was with a soft huskiness, remembering the poetry his father would quote, and one line that always made his mother blush and her breath catch, unable to even look at her beloved's face:
"Bringing you gifts to court your attention would be like bringing water to the oasis, so I brought you a mirror." He improvised as best he could and hit her with the truth he'd learned:
"A mirror that is…the reflection of my…eyes…my heart…my soul…I know you are lonely, so I gifted you with myself. I am lonely too…and touched by immortality like you. Forever is a long time when you've only a human heart, isn't it…Claire?"
He was rewarded with the same catch of breath in his ear; so Noel simply went for broke that evening and every evening that came after, holding his own desires in check again, giving her his all to please again and again, feeding her until he became an addiction. She began to lean on him, look for him almost every day and seek him out more and more until the day came where he decided the time was right to claim her; he had his wrapped bracelet, which could do until he found a tribe with the real thing, a chain maille woven so finely and strongly it was like a silk rope. He decided he'd have to take three days or so along the oasis routes to find a travelling caravan, and barter for a good one, no sense in not doing it properly. She was going to be hard to capture and eons to tame.
Lightning, on the other hand was already captured, but not quite in the way Noel was imagining at the moment; she was on the verge of falling in love with the beautiful hunter from the end of time. Like any other female, prodded by memories of Serah, she went to find him a gift in the markets on an off duty day and was drawn to a wily looking trader drinking tea on a blanket spread with glittering jewelry.
"Whatcha looking for?"
"A gift for a friend, a – lover."
He cackled and said: "Woman? Or Man? Most anything goes these days. But you might want to stay away from those-" pointing at the neatly coiled ropes and chains at the back end; "Them's for nomads only – you should see 'em tie one on – I saw one when I was travelling at the south east trade route this spring! The girl went after the boy like she was gonna murder him and he put up a mighty struggle; she was bloody all over before she landed him, then she tied him squalling like a gelded stallion, - them's some damn bad painful ties, and they have to wear it for life!"
"Oh? How do they wear the rope? I thought it was just tied around the waist, the ankle, or wrist?. "
"Eeeh, no girlie! Here, let me show ya some pics on me cell, and don't get upset, they're graphic, ya know?"
Lightning blanched when she saw the chains tied in painful tight patterns around hips, legs and genitalia, effectively making the man into a eunuch or worse, gelded as the seller said. No way am I going to do that to a man, especially Noel! "Um. I see. Well, what would you suggest?" She brought forward a photo of Noel off her cell and he squinted at it. "Ehh. A pureblood, girl! You're in exalted company. Has he had his ears bored yet? Ya know, pierced? They all get them themselves pierced and tattooed. It's an old tradition to pierce both ears on a pureblood, but it's usually done at birth, or when they come of age. There's a whole set of pictures on pierces by nomads in that book on the left side, if you want to look, but I warn you, it's more of the same as those wicked tie-offs. "
A pair of earrings sounded much more in line with her idea of a gift, so she agreed to the sale; "500 gil" he tonelessly said and she almost gasped – 10 times more than the going price for gold? She kept her cool, and asked: "Isn't that a bit high for just gold?"
"It's iridium, girl. They all prize that over gold. And your boy here is wearing it in the pic."
She blinked and wondered what ever possessed Noel to wear something so extravagant as an iridium necklace? Belatedly she remembered he had a belt with the same discs, too. "How many grams do you think he's wearing on his neck?" "At least 3 ounces pure – that big disc is enough to buy this town as his own and set up for himself with a few thousand gil to spare – those nomads wear their wealth and by the looks of it, he's a sheik; its pretty damn old, too – they don't make that type of disc with a hole anymore. It's all solid flat discs with engraving or those teardrop shapes like that headdress over there, see? So your boy's the real deal genuine old school pureblood all the way. Oh by the way, I put in a needle for the piercing. Remember to do it like it's a secret; You just had things appear on you or in your room, right? It's the same etiquette for giving a gift. It just appears. He'll throw it back in your face if you put a bow and nice card on it."
So she spent a week's pay on two very small hoops of pure iridium and puzzled how she'd surprise him with them. Then with a somewhat wicked smile she realized it was going to be fun. She insisted on drinking in the great room one night and made sure every man of the unit made a toast to something, so Noel had to drink, too. As his kind seldom distilled or drank alcohol, he soon became totally wasted; thankfully he made a happy drunk, but kept a nasty glint in his eye whenever Johel was in sight. She had a cadet help her walk, or more like stumble Noel up to his room, and together they got his shoes off and sword hung over the hook by the bed, then they quietly left. Light came back after her shower to find a passed out Noel & with a grin, went to work, first numbing the ears with ice, then a quick pierce with the sterilized needle in each earlobe. She observed her finished work and decided he looked adorably sexy. Etro, what the hell am I doing with this little scorpion? She let herself kiss the sweet poison of his lips lingeringly before she quietly let herself out and walked back to her own quarters with a sexy swing in her walk she'd developed recently.
With great satisfaction she heard the short and explicit cursing screech of a young stallion and the shatter of something fragile in the bath house the next morning and silently laughed, suddenly snapping the amused look off her face when a haughty, sullen Noel came out into the practice yard. The other soldiers teased unmercifully: "Ooo…a new pair of earrings to go with the skirt, pretty boy? "…"what's up with THAT wussy display? Couldn't take those pretty pink nipples being ringed up?" – this was said with a shirt flipped and a flick of a finger on a bronzed specimen adorned with its own solid gold pierce dangling a skull of Etro; "No-elle?" said in a sweet falsetto; "Hey desert delight! Do you think this dress goes with my eyes?" Johel was prankishly wrapped in his cape, with a tight twist up his backside like one of the town's wafters, imitating Noel's wide-legged fighting stance. Losing his stoic face, the ultrafast scorpion's sting of an arm lashed out and pinioned the hapless commandant's skull in a headlock, with the ever-present knife hovering dangerously close to an amber eye now petrified in fright; the knife started to ever so gently stroke the cheek in an early morning shave, neatly scraping off the fashionable stubble Johel kept to enhance his good looks; Noel looked back at the shaking Johel with pure venom in his eyes before sweetly offering his own sally: "It puts the dress away or it gets the knife again, oh Kupo."
When the pair were hauled before the commander for verbal discipline, Johel looking a bit odd with one cheek shaved and Noel his usual stoic self, all he was reputed to say was: "I thought he'd look better that way?" when asked why the 3rd in command received an uninvited close encounter with Noel's knife.
Thankfully it was blown off as Johel did tend to rub on the commander's nerves; the constant stream of pregnant women showing up to attempt to garnish the commandant's pay did take up far too much time for his legal staff. Johel was sent for a hunt in the desert and Noel was let off with a warning to play nice when he returned.
Unfortunately, that was not the case. The kill was skimpy, a pair of gazelles and Noel's smirk led to a scathing comment by Johel about licking his unit command's gunsaber clean like a woman; coupled with Noel's confusion at not knowing who pierced his ears, it was enough to spark his temper, and he shot back he preferred the taste over Johel's perfumed posterior; and to add the icing on the cake, he threw over his shoulder that he was sure no one knew how he tasted, he was so drenched in every skank's juices from town.
Johel's pride demanded Noel's face introduced to the floor, so he threw himself at the nomad and they scuffled a bit, until the subaltern drew his pistol and bawled to take it outside; Noel & Johel ran for the practice yard and Noel got the upper hand as he'd stopped on a dime and grabbed the back of a shirt sending Johel's feet flying skyward. As Noel raised his fist to start pounding Johel's face into dust, he growled: "Pierce me like I was your next boyfriend, will you? I ought to pierce you, you little-!"
Noel found his fist held in an iron grasp and Lightning's cold voice informing him: "If you have a problem with your new look, then you have a problem with me, Kreiss. Lay off Johel. He's higher ranking and had more power in his spells than 3 men together when he gets head out from between someone's legs. "
Noel was a in a flood of emotions; he angry that he'd been made fun of, plus to find out his private pet had had a hand in it made his teeth grind; and to hear the man-whore praised after he'd loved her body from sunset to sunrise more than once, even twice in the last week really set him off.
He lashed out in a low kick, dropping his leader on her posterior in the dust & said: "Fine, then WE have a problem, oh Blessed of Etro." He twisted her hand still clenched around his wrist and found the nerve and pressed it, bringing yelp of pain; he hauled her up by the bent hand, jerked her close and softly hissed: "Bitch."
Then the night exploded into stars as Lightning's right hook connected with his jaw; and then the fight was on. They were well matched, and Noel didn't have the advantage of open desert; the practice arena was Lightning's domain, and held her own against her angry young man well. However, as Etro's edicts do tend to go into effect at the worst possible moment, the fight was going to take a bizarre turn.
Lightning did get the upper hand briefly, as the right hook was thrown several times driving Noel's back into the low wall of the practice yard and he nearly flipped over; she reached for his shirt, yanked him back & smirked before coldly informing him just as softly as his recent comparison to a female canine of the lesser sort: "See if I spend a week's pay on love-gifts for you again, you ungrateful little scorpion."
This was insane! A…woman?! Marking a man as her own? It was never done, never! He didn't know whether to be really pissed off, mortified or flattered for a few seconds: ingrained age-old custom fought against a secret lover's delight in finding out his feelings had not only been reciprocated, but just as eagerly pursued of him! Love won, but custom had its consolation prize: challenge & bind.
"Lightning Claire Farron, thou art in mine eye like a grain of sand! I claim the right of challenge- win and you go free, lose and I will claim thee as mine own….wench!"
Lightning's jaw dropped and fear drove her from that moment on; after seeing the pictures from the trader she thought nomads were barbaric and she had no wish to be bound and tied to Noel like…that. Noel was after her like an excited stallion with a mare in heat; the fight now swung in Noel's favor; he did pin her in 5 moves, but as he'd forgotten to take off his wrapped bracelet before the fight, it was trouble to unbind and keep hold of Lightning; he tore at it with his teeth, gnawing through the leather until it fell in loose loops on his wrist; he nearly bit his own knuckle yanking the ring off his middle finger and managed to get it on her wrist despite her bucking hips and thrashing legs trying to gain a foothold. He let go of her other arm to tie it off, desperately gambling that she'd get what was happening and just him finish. 5 seconds was all he needed. 6 seconds later the infamous right hook and a knee into his face after grabbing him by the adorned ears took him into blackness.
He came to wrapped in blackness and smelling like sweaty camel, bouncing over the hindquarters of a mount. She threw him on the sands and threw his double sword into the ground by the rolled saddle blanket and sternly addressed it: "You are free to go. I understand why you fought me; I'm not entirely ignorant of nomad customs. I advise you to just leave me be; I am only good for one thing. Being a woman and soldier is hard enough; but at least this way, no one owns me like I am property and truthfully I'd rather die free on these sands than submit to a man. I'll never forget you. You did get to me like no one else ever will. But….you're not the dominant species today, Noel Kriess. I am not to be owned. So think about that before you come back to my garrison."
A curious coyote sniffed the empty saddle blanket and cut ropes that smelled of hunter and prey before trotting off in the darkness; it was the only witness to a silently running little brother under the stars heading due west to recapture what he'd claimed.
Eons to tame? Of course. But that's all they had on their hands. All of time.