Author's notes: Please note that a line from a lovely set of love lyrics written by Laurence Hope was paraphrased as the harpist's line Lightning remembered; simply put, it was the perfect verse that captured Lightning's state of mind. Again, there is absolutely no intent of financial gain or profit intended with the penning of this offbeat alternate universe romance between two final fantasy characters; it's just for the amusement of it all...Now, attend to my tale, o beloved reader:
The stallion left at a gallop, leaving the two riders to become acquainted with each other as the creature gave into its pleasure of galloping in the cooling sunset air of the desert. Noel's mental voice rose in praise Etro, oh Etro, bless you! Tonight! Tonight! Tonight! sung in a sing song to match the tattoo of hooves galloping across the sands. He felt like a child again, held safe in loving arms; his heart was moved to a deep tenderness & he was profoundly grateful to the point of tears at being so close to escaping an eternity alone. His heart was lifted to the heavens passing before his eyes as her head lolled back on his shoulder; Oh please, please let this peace in me last a little longer, no one has ever done for me what this woman has, Etro! I will never be alone again!
Lightning's heart was also lifted by the wild ride across the desert; she found herself in a silent conversation with her captor, communicated only with the lightest of touches, the subtlest of movements in her non-verbal vocabulary. She felt she could ride forever cradled against Noel's body , ride into the rising moon, all though this stark landscape of sand & sky, away from everything civilized until she was cleansed of the twisted plots, the burdens of leadership, the endless battles she had fought in for too long. She wished that life was simple again, they could just be Noel & Lightning, two lovers with nothing but a world of sunset skies & endless sands to explore. "Why not?" Noel spoke aloud.
"Eh?"
"Why not just let it – this – ride for a while? After all, we are touched by Etro – nearly immortal. We've got quite a bit of time to fill, so why not… take that road less explored, so to speak? Like just ride past that horizon and keep riding tonight?"
He simply held her closer and reined in, quietly observing the sunset for a while in silence. Vardi & Vasht the evening twins hung in the upper firmament of deepening turquoise, pair of dazzling messengers for the lovely evening to come. He finally spoke with a soft peace in his voice he'd never used before: "- Of all the universes and timelines I've been in, I never stopped looking to the stars; now…I see Etro has gifted me with one of her own jewels of the heavens to light my way."
The bay, having a mind of its own, mostly on dinner, snorted softly & looked back at the pair of humans on his back, now in that peculiar state of mind called romantic. Seeing as they paid no attention to him whatsoever and the reins hung loose, he took matters into his own hands and started to the fires at a leisurely ramble. He was well rewarded later with a bag of grain and hastily filled bowl of dates, which he loved dearly; he snorted his appreciation as the shaggy headed one with the voice he understood rubbed his back until the quiet rose headed one came; then they slowly walked to a bigger tent, their shadows tall as gods against the firelight.
They returned later when the sands had cooled, the two clinging together to share the woolen burnoose that smelled of myrrh resin and the clean wild scent of horse-speaking one; the bay's ears swiveled at the sound of a soft trill and click as they entered the tent and now content, dropped his head to nap.
The dinner had been delicious, Daniel had been well pleased with the way things were going; he had yet to learn that Noel's object of interest was someone he'd heard plenty of when visiting the city, but knew she was not a domestic woman; he saw the gleam in her eyes when she saw his gunsaber and the wary yet calm manner she possessed the first night. He thought Noel was handling the courting the right way, a horse was a perfect gift for any warrior; in fact one of the buyers today had been a janissary, the high caste of nomad warriors; he was buying his partner a superb dapple grey. The young man had nearly wept with gratitude as his generous lover gently handed him the reins; so, Daniel was disposed to be in an ebullient mood, anticipating a similar scene taking place tomorrow between the handsome little brother and the oasis eyed swordblade of a woman sitting to his left. With affection, he saw how protective, yet respectful Noel was of his chosen, even cutting dainty tastes off his own plate for her. She ate just as daintily, carefully taking his offering off the knife, with an occasional sly nip of sparkling white teeth. Daniel caught his wife's eye and she smiled at him, remembering a similar young lion of the desert feeding her on their night of binding. She nodded and started to make a mental list of things the lovely rose-haired janissary woman might need, like a hunting knife, a boot knife, rope, maybe a garrote; it looked quite likely the challenge would be be given soon – she knew that hungry look in the young hunter's eyes. She hoped the woman was a good fighter – it had been so long since they'd seen a high caste match happen and a fight between two warriors like this was not to be missed!
Finally, they escaped into the cold night, Noel rather daringly pulling her close with the excuse of shielding her from the night winds in his heavy woolen burnoose; in some ways dinner in Daniel's tent had been torture, as both were impatient to be alone with each other. Bathing at the wadi had been hurried, as the water had cooled and the night was coming on. Both longed for the massive hot baths of the garrison, but made do in the tent with pitchers of hot water. As Lightning rinsed herself, Noel threw their saddlerolls together over the low divan in the main area and pulled the heavy brocade coverlet over the lot to make a warmer bed for both of them; he anticipated her company would be warming also, and spoilt, sybaritic creature that he was, he wanted pleasure of all his senses. The fur of the saddleroll and Lightning's smooth skin together at the wadi was still fresh memory for him; then his turn at the hot water came, which was more torture, as he was hard put to keep control over his body's natural excitement as she stayed and poured the hot water over him like an offering and stroked him dry afterwards, carefully combing his hair before reaching for the oil flask; then he gave into his body's demand for pleasure of the senses, drifting off to sleep into a haze of small fulfilled pleasures as they slowly twisted into a Gordian love knot in the warm blankets of the improvised bed. Passion would have its way later in the night.
Noel awoke a little before midnight, as the rising night winds made the east awning lamp slap against the pole with a disconcerting rattle; even more disconcerting was the empty space by him – she was gone! Oh no! His heart began to beat in painful thumps; he had been fooled; she had just played along until she could find the right moment to run from him; he was damned for all eternity to be alone, it was cruel joke on him, he'd done something wrong – he'd been too kind, too trusting. The knife blade in his chest now was now burning, so he got up, threw on clothes and decided to smash the damned lamp, the noise was not adding to his evening, which was now ruined. She'd deserted him. Etro damn it all, was he so unloveable? The lamp stopped clinking against the pole, and now in a foul black mood he strode to the tent flap and jerked it open, only to have a robed figure tumble into him; they both went down on the carpet and he rolled, pulling his knife; his wrist was caught in a small steely grip and a fiercely whispered "Noel!" stopped him dead. He dropped the knife and just as fiercely kissed Lightning, relieved she had not run after all; now exasperated, he shook her and growled: "Where did you go? Why did you leave the bed? Did you run from me? What did I –" she impatiently stopped his flood of interrogation with a hand over his mouth and nearly growled back: "The damned lamp woke me up! And Ishmael was frightened of it, too! It's his first night with us! Shouldn't we bring him in tonight? "
Noel's mind grabbed onto the pronoun 'us'; and that one little thing hit home – us. Not you or I, but us. A party of two or more. He wasn't alone, he wasn't deserted, he had her in his arms and a jumpy horse for company to boot. Suddenly content, he teased her with: "You want Ish to sleep with us in our bed tonight? – my, you take the custom, um, extremely well!" This brought a rill of laughter in response and he felt her head shake on his chest as she briefly hugged him; he silkily suggested; "Let's stay up a while and see if he calms down, now that the damned lamp has stopped making a din in all our ears."
"Just exactly how did you plan on staying awake, you little scorpion?" She dryly commented, as warm hands kept pulling at her loose clothes until they were a heap on the floor and she was heartlessly yanked down to be taken possession of in a way that guaranteed no sleep tonight.
She awoke the next morning as a vivid stripe of morning light fell across her face; startled, she sat up suddenly and called for Noel, as the spot next to her was empty and cold. A soft whicker answered and she burst into laughter as Ishmael the horse looked over from the edge of the rug and pricked his ears at her voice. Had Noel been able to get the creature in their bed, she was sure he would have; she appreciated the humor in the gesture no small amount & vowed revenge. Vivid blots of color also began to assault her sight on the bed and she looked down and about her; Lightning now gaped in a startled fashion as the bed seemed to be in bloom; a wealth of desert blooms was spread across the blanket, a silent, but adoring, princely gift from a silent lover.
Stunned, almost trembling, she simply sat there a moment looking at the delicate blossoms, magenta, coral, lemon, violet blue, then slowly put a hand over her mouth when it sank in. The trouble he must have gone to find them at dawn was immense. Her mind flashed back to a single bloom in a bowl of water on the window at the garrison, and with a guilty pang, she wondered: What in the name of Etro and all the gods is happening to me? He's turned my well-ordered world into a strange mess, I'm Etro-knows-how-far from my command post, I haven't talked to my sister in days and here I am playing at romance with a desert bred boy who is as wild as wild gets. I miss my gunsaber, I miss hot baths, and I miss having my life in my command and my control.
Noel's face in the sunset, the strength of his arms, the intensity of the feeling that happened between them in the night now made her tremble for real now; she remembered tears trickling down her face and wetting a neck and shoulder just as he had done the night before last; then he had been the one to hold, to wordlessly comfort, to soothe, until the shaking, trembling, all-consuming emotional overload became bearable, faceable.
She broke into a sweat at recalling how those callused hands claimed her, and had forever spoiled her for anyone else's touch. She would never be able to let a hand touch her without his lesson of a pleasure so piercing it was pain; she had experienced an achingly intimate act, light years beyond the first time when she trusted him with her body. He had taken them both on a wild journey through an undiscovered country to the top of the heavens and not only thrown her off into space, but had jumped right along with her, plummeting like a comet breaking apart and burning until there was no more Lightning, no more Noel, just two elements combining into something new; even when they parted later in slumber, something of each remained within the other, and they were never the same again.
A half turn of the clock saw Lightning cantering with a janissary to the green valley where her lover was; she was exhilarated, brilliant as a bride, eagerly anticipating the sight of Noel, her fearless nomad taming her gift, a mare to match the spirited stallion surging between her legs; she never felt so hopeful, so delighted with life, so…happy.
But then, such is the blindness of love.
She remembered that first glimpse that dazzling bright morning, the way her heart caught in her throat at the lean figure handling the powerful bolts and wily bucks of the mare, the unconscious pride in the way he moved , sure of himself and immersed his element; it wasn't until after she let the sight of him fill her soul to overflow with too much tenderness, whispering Etro, I could love this man that her perfect illusion shattered before her eyes.
He calmed the mare and brought her to a small knot of people on the sand; she recognized the striped djellaba as the father of the cheeky teen who was thrown; Noel cleverly managed to make the mare bow, then kneel to the amusement of the group, then a lithe feminine form detached itself, bowing as if he were the sheik himself and he held out a hand for her mount and they galloped off with her firmly against his back. She eventually left him with a light caress and ran to get water for the horse, then tea for Noel, clearly fussing over him like he was the last man alive.
Lightning recalled her lazily sarcastic quip when he'd first made his admiration of her known in no uncertain terms and whatever feeling had buoyed her up in the past 3 days burned to ash watching the casually intimate scene played out before her. The slim female with a wealth of blue-black hair cascading under a spangled headscarf was hanging on Noel's least gesture, even kneeling and holding her hands laced together for him to use as a mounting block; he briefly reached down and touched her head and the scene looked like it was familiar intimacy. Lightning sat still as a statue on the stallion for a few minutes longer as she made herself watch, forlornly hoping what she saw was a mistake, a jealous fancy, but no. It was Noel. He never looked up to the ridge of the little valley, although the woman sighted the fine horse and hooded rider. It wasn't until the spirited creature with a matching blue-black mane suddenly wheeled and galloped off disappearing like a djinni that a small smile crossed her perfect rose lips.
Lightning rode hard and never looked back; it wasn't until one of Daniel's personal janissaries whistled at her that she paid any attention to anyone, she was that lost in thought. Daniel grinned at her, waving her over; she stayed by him and his entourage for the rest of the day, staying grimly silent, so she would not foolishly give her emotional trauma away; after all, she was a soldier, a major of a garrison, and was Etro's champion; it would not do to show any sign of weakness, especially over something as foolish as a love affair nipped in the bud. She felt quite stupid, and more ill-used than one of Johel's victims; at least he was upfront and honest about what kind of man he was. Belatedly, she recalled nomads took more than one wife; she wondered if Noel was courting both of them at once; she figured he was keeping them separated so there would be no spats. She felt dreadful as she realized she'd completely been so besotted with him she'd not even remembered to ask if she was entering a harem or not. She had foolishly thought it was a one on one relationship; the thought of having to share him with anyone else was provoking to say the least – if there was one thing she knew about herself it was that Lightning did not share lovers; call it selfish, but she always felt it better to give a lover her entire focused attention, instead of spreading her love too thin or having to deal with a tangle of half truths and manipulations to keep the reins of multiple relationships separate. Simply put, if she was going to be with someone, no one else competed, ever. Now here she was, in a hidden threesome, which was totally unacceptable.
She did her best to stay on the far side of the entourage, hoping there was enough dust and anonymous djellabas to hide her, but after Noel got to Daniel, she was pointed out with a flash of white teeth; he rode slowly forward, putting the mare through its best paces, to show off her beauty and cleverness; she was now groomed until she shone, and her mane had been braided with silver ornaments; he made her bow and kneel, which charmed anyone who had cared to observe the presentation of his gift; never in her life had Lightning felt so desiring of something, yet so sick and pained in her heart over it. Noel slid off the horse and walked up to her on Ishmael, his whole being radiating manly pride and happiness at seeing his lover before him, and ready to give her something that would impress the hell out her to the point of falling into his arms before everyone. He could just hear her tender admission of love later under the stars and it gave him the courage to give her a tender look in public as he spoke.
"I just had to name her Inanna for Ishmael's sake, but you can call her Badri, after the Moon; she answers to either. Come, meet her." He held up a hand for her to dismount from Ishmael. She steeled her herself to be led in the farce of the moment, wondering just when she going to be informed she was being taken back to the city, or presented with his other choice of bind-mate. But no, he presented her with the reins and stood close to watch her reaction; so Lightning did not tell any lie at the overwhelming awe for receiving such a fine gift – she let her eyes fill with unshed tears at the absolute fineness and the work he put into taming the creature just for her, but in her heart it somehow rang like a death knell; Inanna - Badri was quite loving and eager for her hand; it was all Lightning could do to whisper: "Thank you, Nomad; ya'asallam'ah Etro, my gratitude has no end; I will cherish the memory of this day for the rest of my life." Her hand rose and it shook at the gesture of respect she gave him.
She felt she was looking her last upon the beautiful creature named Noel Kreiss, a man she had learned to trust as she caught his level, intense ultramarine gaze; she took in the lean form she had joined with, handsome bronzed face and the waving brown silk of his hair until a now-familiar lithe feminine form appeared and stepped in between them, blocking Lightning from the portrait of a nomad panther she was engraving on her heart. And so did the life-debt servant Harissa enter the tent of Noel Kreiss.
Harissa had overridden Erienne's promise of his daughter Etienne to repay the life-debt as a servant to Noel and insisted to Erienne and the other elders of the tent that she was the better choice, what would a mere 13 year old know about teaching a city woman, a warrior caste, anything about the practicality of living in a nomad household, much less a teacher of all things nomad? True to her capricious nature, she refused to let the matter drop until she'd gotten her way; for once, Erienne's tent was sick of Harissa's constant yowling and simply let her go, figuring she'd come back humbled, crawling and whining once the female warrior, who looked to be a janissary, had lessoned her; they had no doubt the rose-haired one would have less tolerance for Harissa's camel dung and send her packing or at least, beat some sense into Harissa's dense, snotty, vicious head.
When they had gained the entrance to the tent, Noel caught Lightning's arm and looked at her; he only saw the lack of light in eyes that had been on fire for him last night and wondered what had happened to change his rose haired object of adoration so in a day. Startled, he saw a lost, almost pleading look on her face, not unlike a 13 year old who once begged a doctor to not let her darling deda, her father, die with strangers in a surgery, as they shut the doors in her face. Then it was gone, replaced by a stern mask; she gave him a soldier's stare before quietly stating she would see to the horses and stay with them until they were calm, not to worry. She would treat such a generous gift with the greatest of care. The mask slipped little and a genuine warmth shone on her face as his brow softened and a similar warmth suffused his features as he shyly smiled in the fading sunset night; then his face disappeared like a dream as night fell and the sweetly ringing tones of Harissa's voice called his name within the tent. Lightning softly called his name, then quietly hung her proud head and turned way after hearing the silver bells of Harissa's laughter chime in the depths of the tent.
Farewell beloved, it was not mine to hold you in my arms for any length of days…
Lightning's brain recalled the sweet sad song of a harpist playing at the common fire pit, then, a blast of cold breeze woke her up, jerking the old woolen burnoose over her hands to keep them warm; she had been dreaming again, more of a nightmare; it recurred with amazing regularity, as she was reminded of its cause almost daily, like a cut being broken open to bleed again and again.
She had been reliving the fight between Noel and herself a full six weeks and 3 days ago; she had borne the barrage of insults disguised as 'observations', 'lessons', and 'efforts' for the sake of peace, but it was short lived, only 15 days were tolerated before her pride, her temper, broke through and gave Harissa a taste of her own medicine, and even more pissed off at Noel, flatly refused his command in front of the other nomads.
It had started with Harissa hungrily eyeing Noel's double sword and inlaid scabbard; it was richly decorated, and her greedy hands wanted to hold an object worth more than the entire contents of her family's tent; Lightning dove to keep her hands from being cut by the razor sharp alloy and was rewarded with outright bitchery; Harissa ran to Noel crying later, and Lightning was taken to task for not behaving nicely, with Noel carefully tending Harissa's bruises. Lightning flatly refused to apologize to Harissa later when he walked his servant to the public firepit with him, where Lightning was spending her evenings to avoid the jet haired jade and trying not to get sick at Noel's constant harping on her act of demure nomad girl. It wasn't so much the refusal to apologize, it was the manner in which she said it to him in front of everyone: Lightning remembered she was a soldier of rank, and expected to be obeyed; she had been shown favor by a goddess, she had survived being branded as a L'Cie and damn well had saved a few friends a few times over. Her refusal was in the manner of a queen and it rankled in a young man's mind from a society where men were the decision makers, the protectors, the predominant of the species. There was also something in his manner of a lordly young boy who had seldom heard the word no, even from his stern noble of a father. The other nomads took her disagreement with her young lord lightly, as most knew Harissa Ibn Erienne's two faced nature by reputation. It was a pity Noel did not heed Lightning's dangerous glance, for he had all of nature to teach him the female is the more deadly; the light in her eyes was a challenge most any man in the tribe have cowed to and quietly turned from. One never runs from immortals, or those that have been touched by them. But oh no, not Noel Kreiss, last man born.
A glowering Noel had stepped forward until his face was inches from hers; she steadily held his gaze, forcing herself not to flinch from his sparking anger; never show weakness she had told herself, or he'd tear into me. The next words she recalled like a brand on her memory:
"You have insulted me with your refusal – you have little awareness of how precarious your situation is here, Claire. You're no longer Major of the garrison out here, you're just a captive who is going through binding." He began to walk around her stealthily like the panther he'd been likened to on more adoring nights past. "You might want to rethink your answer, since I am your captor and I have complete control over you here."
"Control?" She almost snorted; "Oh, is that what you call forcing your wants on others? How very small you look tonight, oh kupo. "
His arm lashed out with the speed of a scorpion's sting and pinioned her wrist, then twisted with a thumb on a nerve; she dropped to her knees whitening with pain. He hissed with a hot rage as he gently took her slim jaw in his large calloused hand and turned it ever so delicately to the nomads watching them; "Do you think they care? They might be eager jackals waiting for taste of your skin after I've finished with you; sometimes a man is excited to have a woman with another man's marks upon her...in her…"
She managed to gasp: "From the way your servant Harissa has been licking your arse, I'd assumed you were finished, oh, kupo!"
"I will be finished with you when it pleases me, Valkyrie. And not a minute before. Or century, in your case."
"Oh. Joy. Pray tell, which of us do you really want to bind to, Noel Kreiss? Or are you wishing to be a stablemaster like Commandant Johel?" She remembered the move to break his hold finally, dropped and flipped free of the punishing pinion, then lightly threw him over to land at Harissa's feet. "Now. Go to her. Go to all the women here who will have you, what is one less? Have all you wish. Just do not look to me." Her voice took on an equally cold hissing rage: "And when they cease to please, go the rock and ask it for love."
She turned away from the fire and walked past the pair, but not before snidely shooting at them; "There are two things I have discovered I don't like about the two of you: Your face."
Noel's answer was a rolling kick to her ankles and his knife at her throat with the soft command: "You step over the line by a mile when an inch will do, woman. Get back to the tent and await while I deliberate on if you should live or not by moonrise, Valkrie. Don't worry, I'll make sure you get a good gunsaber in your hand for a fair fight."
Lightning was a force of nature and was so sheerly stubborn she'd forgotten what is was to yield to a force greater than her own; she'd yielded to Etro so long ago, but then, it was a goddess, not a human that she yielded to. Noel had just as much of the same stubbornness, but it was dominated by a determination that delved into outright arrogance at times. He firmly refused to bow to her wishes, because she had no power over him whatsoever. She had not felt fear for the longest time, and now she was filling with that cold emotion as she realized just how precarious her position had been all along.
She now shook herself and tried to stamp warmth back into her chilled feet. Two months had slipped away since Noel's mad flight into the deep desert with her; she sadly looked back at the days of vivid happiness mixed with weeks of painfully silent suffering; it made her sick to her stomach to think of what had happened at the fire pit. For the first time in years she felt fearful; not only at being chained to an eternal life where she was despised, but unloved…alone. She realized she had longed for love, and had somehow let that little scorpion Noel Kreiss under her skin; his love was like a subtle poison now running in her bloodstream, and would be a hard habit to break. He had become integral to her happiness; life eternal would seem so empty and insipidly colorless without his presence. Hate me! he once passionately told her; love and hate are the only games we play in eternity; but Noel, you never said anything about total indifference; I can't live with that…no one can. Maybe I should just get on your horse and just become a nomad without a tribe; it'd be so easy. And I'm so cold, I wish I were the one sleeping in your arms, warm and protected tonight. She got up from the embers of the fire in front of the tent and walked; it helped keep her warmer, but she'd pay tomorrow with inattentiveness, and that damned woman would find another reason to ridicule her in front of everyone again. She was so cold…she gambled and went to the area where the mounts were kept, and found Noel's pair of horses; they softly whickered and blew their warm animal grassy breath over her and let her sink down between them, grateful for any last bit of warmth she could get. She was on to her way to falling asleep, but her heart refused to let her drop off until it had its say, and it cried for Noel, a passionate longing for his love rising to a scream of despair of knowing that it would be like this forever. Harissa made her choke with wild jealousy; it was the perpetual remembrance, the burning shame that he had chosen another that was her demon.
She could have borne it, burnt her heart on Etro's altar or simply cut it out and go on, had the other been worthy of him, a better woman than herself; or at least kind-hearted. But no, Harissa was cruel, petty, spiteful, and million other adjectives far less savory; and that was the deep root cause of her grief and malaise: Noel chose the lesser of the two of them, and Lightning despised him for it. Bitterly, she reminded herself that expecting such a strong and virile man to stay uninterested in his own kind was foolish. The knowledge that the touch she longed for was not solely hers, that…another…was enjoying it now was an open wound that would not heal. No one told her it was for naught, or that she was cutting herself to bits every night over something not within her control, that the heart does goes on, or to just accept or draw your line in the sand, then leave if it were crossed. But she had no kind friend, no sister to tell her so.
The truth of the matter was Harissa had been enough of a bitch to lie and implied intimacy when in fact there was none. Noel had been attracted to her pretty act of a charming, traditionally raised nomad girl, but that is what it was: an act. Her brother and wives were quite put out with her by the time Noel had arrived and hotly debated in whispers what to do with the arrogant, demanding young woman who felt she was entitled to the wealth of the tent without having to work for it. A caravan trip was suggested more than once, with the sarcastic quips of 'one way' and 'a long trek off a short mesa' thrown in after a particularly frustrating day.
Her presence in Noel' s tent gave them relief, but it had made Lightning's life a living hell with the constant small harrying insults and commands in the guise of lessons by a mind that was warped by the desire for a wealthy tent and respect without having to work for it. Lightning had completely snapped when she had seen Harissa deliberately raising a lock of Noel's brunette silk and sniffing it appreciatively with a triumphant smile as Noel's head laid in her lap, having fallen asleep exhausted from helping tame a new pair of horses with the men. He had been thrown twice that day and his arms had ached with the effort of holding the reins firm, so Harissa's offer to oil his arms was actually welcome when compared to Lightning's silence, and her excuse that his horses needed tending. Lightning simply shook her head, eyes dangerous; Harissa smirked and raised the deep brown silk to her lips and kissed it in a taunt; then Harissa was somehow face down on the rug, her blue-black hair unkindly used as a handle to pull her to the tent flap; Lightning planned to take it outside, but Harissa raised her voice in a piercing screech that woke Noel up. He growled at the two women, then pissed, drew his knife, which Lightning snatched; she threatened Harissa with it, furiously growling: "If you even touch a hair on his head without permission, I'll see to it you don't touch anything that isn't yours ever again, girl!"
"Oh kupo? Whose permission do I need?" Was Harissa's sweetly venomous comment; Lightning mastered her jealous rage with an iron will, because she realized she'd been deliberately baited. Slowly she replied: "You know very well what I mean."
Noel frowned, only seeing the latter part of the planned scene and was less than impressed with Lightning: "Harissa had my permission. At least she understands when a man needs his aches and pains soothed. My horse receives better treatment at your hands than I! Take it as a lesson. Harissa, can you please continue?" He politely concluded, ignoring Lightning's flinch and stunned expression.
"Oh, as you wish, kupo." Lightning ever so respectfully breathed, as a stone had settled on her chest, crushing her ability to speak normally; any heavier, even a feather's weight, and it would choke her throat and the secret hot tears shed daily would run from her eyes, right in front of them both. She vowed to just end it properly with Noel the next day after exiting the tent, but even that small avenue of fair play was blocked. She waited until they fell asleep inside shivering in the intense cold of the night winds before creeping back in and lying down by the tent flap until dawn. She quietly covered up her Noel, sadly looking at his peaceful face and suddenly wishing it didn't have to end with watching him fall for a bitch like Harissa. She wanted to be wrapped in those strong arms and hear words of love, words of praise and pride in his voice.
She quietly stole from the tent before they awoke; Harissa found her at the wadi later, and haughtily informed her that since she had rejected her lord's shelter over her head, she was not welcome in the tent without his permission and that any requests she might have were to go through his humble servant, now before her. Within three days, three days of carefully ducking in other tents, filching food, and hunting unoccupied corners of the encampment at night, a distant Noel quietly called her in and told her if she was no longer wishing to be a guest in his tent, please ensure that he received word from her new host tent, as he was responsible for her until she was formally taken in under another roof, and wished her well, and even more quietly added he left any further decisions in her hands, she hoped she understood his stance on things, then hid his face beneath an indifferent mask, now sharpening the gladius with a whetstone while Harissa knelt nearby, the perfect innocent picture of charming, pretty, humble nomad servant.
Oh, how that memory burns; too bad it isn't enough to warm my hands tonight. Keep moving, stay awake. There has to be a way to stay warmer. Maybe the horse boy will have a windbreak up. She pulled the old woolen burnoose of Noel's she had snatched from his wardrobe more closely to her and rubbed her hands to keep them warm in the freezing winds that had blown up; at least the horses partially blocked them; a storm was blowing through and they both knew it was going to be a rough night. She decided she'd really had enough; when tomorrow's dawn broke she'd just pack up, tell the Sheik or Daniel what had happened, beg a horse and water, then just leave. She could make it back to the garrison now, with a mount. Just get me through the night, Etro.
The wind picked up until it became a howling creature, slinging sand at the encampment; the outer edge bore the brunt of it, as the shield wall offered some natural protection; the horses and mounts became excited, then frightened, bellowing and stamping, they chafed at their restraints until an especially nervous roan broke the line, scattering the creatures as they panicked and sought shelter; the smarter horses ran to their master's tents and the shield wall, but some ran out to the desert, where the storm was far worse. Lightning lost her shelter of the horses and desperately tried to make it back to the camp; however, she was distracted by Dark Star, the great silver stallion that belonged to Daniel, the sheik's son – the poor frightened creature had a length of rope still tied to his halter which whipped around him like a snake, frightening the creature further; she grabbed the rope and called to the stallion, then swung on to turn the animal to Daniel's tent; but a great crack of lightning made the mount bolt, and with no bit, it ran wild until it collapsed. Lightning jumped as Dark Star stumbled and rolled back to the horse; she pitied the creature and simply threw her burnoose over its head, tied it down, crawled underneath and hung on to the halter for dear life as the fierce storm raged around them; the last thing she remembered was the slowing of Dark Star's panicked snorts and her voice murmuring : "There, there now, it'll pass, the storm will pass, and tomorrow will be blue as my beloved's eyes…"
As soon as the winds abated, Daveed and his guard went about to see how everyone fared; he was tireless in accounting for everyone, and soon the losses of his people were assessed: two goat boys were missing, a guard on night patrol had been hit with a broken tent pole, and the horse boy had a broken wrist from a running horse colliding into him. Noel sidled up to Lightning's host family, as he did not see the familiar pink head, then asked Adja dryly: "Did city girl like her first dirt bath or is she still hiding like a mouse?"
Adja simply stared back at him, puzzled. Noel frowned and repeated himself, then puzzled said:"Adja, wasn't Lightning in your tent last night? Isn't she part of your family now? " She shook her head and looked rather worried: "Noel, what makes you think she is part of our family? She is a welcome friend, but her place is in your tent. She said she was going back to check on the horses before she was going back to your tent; I understand she helps with guard duties at night now? She always visits, but never stays with us."
Noel had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realized she was with neither Adja or he last night, and quickly strode off to Daveed. They wasted no time in asking around, and soon it was clear she hadn't been in anyone's tent for the night, or even near a tent for quite some time. She always visited, but she slept in no one's tent. Where the hell could she be at night? Oh Etro, please don't let me find her with another man! Two hours later the cry changed to Just please let me find her & I'll never let her out of my sight again, Etro! I'd give anything to know she is alive! How could I be so selfish to let her go so easily?
The search widened for the goat boys, Lightning, and the missing horses, which numbered 15, then lessened to 6 after another hour on the sands. Daniel kept riding due south slowly, then saw a dusty bit of white and galloped to it, praising Etro; he furiously brushed off sand from the burnoose and found Dark Star and Lightning sleeping together. The horse whickered and struggled to his master's hands, its spirit far from broken at the exhausting events of the evening, but the creature was too weak to get up at first. Daniel started to draw his dagger, but Lightning glared at him and shook her head weakly. Daniel relented, sheathing the dagger; if his prized stallion was so dear to her, then it was a sign from Etro.
Others came with water and ropes, and after a deep drink and some coaxing, the horse stood. Lightning was carefully carried to Daniel's horse and he carried her back to Daveed's tent himself. Along the way he brusquely argued with Lightning for being out at night until it stung; at that point she snapped with her old acerbic manner and admitted she'd been hiding anywhere she could during the night. Daniel's face changed as he learned the truth of what had happened, and exactly why Noel's pet jewel was not a guest of any tent in the encampment. He was aghast that the woman in his saddle was none other than THE Major Lightning Farron, a very worthy warrior he'd heard countless tales of during his city visits; he was deeply ashamed at the breach in long standing customs, the lack of hospitality shown to Major Farron, Valkyrie and beloved of Etro.
He was becoming angrier at Noel with every hoofbeat on the sand; the man was treating his best sword like a shield, she was a warrior of the highest calling, and here she was, expected to be a mere servant of the tent? Her caste deserved a tent of servants to serve her and he began to think Noel had eaten peyote cactus for kidnapping her; didn't Noel realize that this rose haired darling of the goddess would have fallen in his arms had he just courted her like their own elite warrior caste, the janissaries? Did the man not have the breeding of janissary caste himself? He'd lesson the whelp himself when he found him!
Daniel had a scowl like thunder when he arrived and immediately backhanded Noel in the mouth; while Noel was spitting blood Daniel calmly said: "I see why she called you a little scorpion: You bring a high caste out here, a basting VALKYRIE of Etro herself, then sting her in the heart to death halfway across the desert after setting a mere serving wench you've been basting on the side above her? What idiocy made you decide to make Harissa Ibn Erienne to be your mouth in all decisions of your tent, oh kupo? How dare you break the first law of hospitality here! What insane reason did you have to kick her from your tent to die roofless? Wait until my Sheik hears of it."
Noel hotly countered: "What lie is this? Why would I ever break the first law of hospitality, especially as a guest, elder brother? Why? I may be a scorpion, but damn, does a scorpion sting itself? I most certainly did NOT tell her to leave my tent, or tell her she was unwelcome! I brought her here to..to..bind with ME, for Etro's sake! I wanted HER! She left ME! In fact Harissa told me – " He stopped suddenly and his eyes flew to Daniel's dark flashing obsidian irids and held them as they both realized that the middle of the story was missing, and the common tongue was Harissa!
"Eh! It looks like we both have been told different truths here, little brother!" Daniel reached forward, bringing Noel's face close to his own, he softly asked: "Why did you not tell me your lady was Major Lightning Farron, little brother? You've been going about this all wrong…do you even know how to court one of your own caste, janissary? Is the future so devoid of women that you know them not?" He stared into Noel's eyes deeply for nearly a minute, then satisfied with what he saw in its expression, he suddenly grinned and held the summery bronzed cheek in affection for a moment. "Go see her. On your knees if you must. She stayed, despite the insult. A good sign, that." As he turned away, he began to shout: "Now, where is that wench of a servant? Harissa? HARISSA!? "
He trotted off to hunt the haughty servant, leaving Noel by himself on the sand in front of Daveed's tent. He saw pink hair and suddenly longed for her, so he said himself to hell with it, and opened the curtain to go to her. He simply took one look and the strained serious look on his face spoke volumes to Marika & Rhea, who tended the exhausted woman. Marika also patted his cheek and whispered: "No worries, Noel. She is unharmed, just chilled, exhausted, and needs water. Let her regain her strength here, and I will ensure she is sent back with you after the evening dinner. You will come, yes?"
Noel nodded and then he was left alone with his girl, propped up with a handful of pillows and eyeing him warily as a lynx again. He squatted to her eye level and sighed: "Lady, had I any idea that you were without a roof over your head, I'd have kicked that little blue-haired bitch to the next oasis. Why didn't you just tell me? Do you still trust me so little? Are you so frightened of not being in control, even for a minute here? Do you think you have to handle everything yourself? I blame myself for your misfortune, but had you trusted me with the truth of why you left the tent, I would have done all in my power to right whatever wrong that had happened to you. "
She bit her lip and stroked the rug inches from his hand as she absorbed his quiet tone, then in the same vein replied: "Kreiss, How could I tell you anything, when you forbade me to speak to you, unless you spoke to me first? Then you assigned Harissa as your mouth for all…communication? "
"What? Does that even sound like me? Have I not been direct with you? Have I not told you I wanted to be bound with you? Does being bound to me imply slavery? " He swallowed, realizing just how far Harissa had duped him, then continued softly, commanding and confident as the Sheik himself: "I would never tell any servant to give such any order; it would be from my own mouth, and no other's. What possible reason would I have to send you from me, when I wished to you be closer to me?"
She was looking at him now, disinterest falling away as a similar truth hit her. He ruthlessly continued:" I thought you…I saw...I had been informed you left of your own accord and that I disgusted you. I thought I left the decision to bind with me in your hands…heart…so when you did not come back in the tent, I thought you…you didn't want me." Noel manfully finished his truths of events, but couldn't help the forlorn sound of a rejected lover in the last four words.
Lightning softened visibly at the delivered statements and her hand crept forward, almost touching his on the rug; she could feel the warmth as she admitted her own truths: "I saw you giving Harissa …your personal attention; I..I was there that morning when you were taming Inanna, and I saw…I came to the conclusion I came…too early."
"I never saw you – you must be getting clever, you little lynx. You had to see me taming a horse and taking a girl on a ride, and at her request. Did I make love to her on the sands, in front of her family? Do you think I'd drink vinegar after tasting the sweetest water? I nearly drowned in a beautiful oasis the night before, do you think I would forget such a heaven so easily? It's no defense, but I had no wish to offend Erienne; she must have bullied him into letting her take Etienne's place."
"There were more…incidents: I thought… she never outright said it, but it seemed, it appeared …that…you went to…to her! You saw situations she created, Noel. I had little patience to deal with it, so I lost my temper when she tried to lift your sword without watching where to put her hands; she could have lost her fingertips! Then she taunted me one night when you fell asleep in her lap; I was going to leave, then my pride interfered. She even tried to take your bracelet away from me, Noel." She turned her head so he wouldn't see the water welling in her eyes as she kept speaking until it was laid out in the open: "I like the bracelet; I never said I was disgusted with you, or what you were doing to me. I thought I was beginning to understand you…and I liked it. I wanted things to happen between us. I began to trust you with…me. But…how could I stay, after knowing you took another lover? I feel I have made a terrible mistake in understanding nomad culture. I thought binding meant something more…intimate, closer, like one to one. I didn't realize there would be…others…that you'd hold in high..higher…esteem than myself. You see, in my time, my world…It's my…custom. One to one."
Noel looked at her hand a fraction on an inch away from her, and it was all he could do to keep cool; he wanted to turn back into a boy and pick up her hand, and promise her from the bottom of his complicated jealous heart, he'd be her one and only lover until they died; but he was a man now, and he needed absolute proof that what heard was truth; Harissa's lies rankled deeply, but then so did Lightning's earlier stubbornness and resistance to his will. We are so close yet so far away…Etro, she goes to my head like rakesh! She spoke like a man, straight to the heart of the matter, no tears, and I adore her for it instead of being angry. I need to stay sober, think straight…I don't know if it's a ploy to gain freedom and run to the hills, or a real admission of intimacy – Time! Give me time, Claire, prove it to me, don't run away! Stay, for Etro's sake, STAY! He took a deep breath, then being honorable, he made the admission: "Look, attend to me on this one thing: Nomads only bind once in a lifetime. I've only heard of a three way binding once but there were twin brothers involved." He unbent, giving her a rueful smile: "I guess you're lucky I am a single child, eh?"
She smiled a little herself and unbent towards him also, childishly taking his hand and placing it on her cheek before shutting her eyes in exhaustion. He almost smiled. Almost. His own heart cracked at his own foolishness; maybe Daniel was right. He didn't know a damned thing about women. Maybe he should ask Daniel how to win her. More than ever, he just wanted her back in his arms; he had been curiously lonely without her the past weeks, despite Harissa's best efforts to command his attention. He lightly caressed her face, and decided he'd set a few things to rights before he welcomed her into his tent tonight.
Then with a cool glaze over his eyes, he left Daveed's tent and walked with an unhurried pace back to his tent and waited for a certain female of the species to be tempted by his now false display of easy prey. He couldn't wait. I'm all appetite tonight, Harissa.
When her shadow fell across the tent flap, he busied himself with sharpening his hunting knife, and acted unconcerned as she flew in, chattering to cover up nervousness at being absent so long; she'd spent a good 4 hours avoiding Daniel, and now successful, she relaxed. But not for long. He rather playfully asked how her family had fared in the storm, and casually mentioned the casualties, not leaving Lightning's name out; he paused rather meaningfully with the whetstone and twirled the knife in his fingers as he calmly stated he would have no more bitchery or disagreements in the tent when he brought back one Major Farron; she was to be treated as a janissary and if she did not know how, then he suggested she learn quickly or send another from Etienne's tent to replace her; after all, wasn't serving a life-debt pretty much the same no matter where one went? He calmly insisted that she accompany him to dinner at Daveed's tent, with the intent of simply returning the gift of a servant with gratitude, state the debt was paid in his eyes, picking up his bind mate, and going for a ride. A long ride, just the two of them. Time. He just needed some time. They didn't have to do anything, he just wanted her there by him. You love me? Prove it. Stay. Don't run.
The presence of Lightning at the table of Daveed was a delight to his eye, and with pleasure he noted how his servant Harissa had begun to squirm, then become self-pityingly jealous, plucking at her spangled headscarf and waist chains. Marika merrily whispered to Lightning: "She never could stand something handsomer than herself! – Look at the way he fills his eyes with you – no, don't look directly – look down at your plate and away, then just let your eyes catch his face, just like hunting a gazelle – pretend to ignore your prey, girl." Lightning did as Marika said, and yes! There it was – he was looking at her with that almost impudent admiring look that had startled her the first time. Marika had seen to it that her lovely guest was attired to exhilarate, not fade in the background; the gauzes and silks were nomad black, but the brocade of the pants was shot with silver, the kurta was long and split at the sides, but also beautifully embroidered with silver and sparkled with tiny brilliants; a slim waist was enhanced with a turquoise sash, which also subtly highlighted the unusual color of her eyes. She threw a speaking look at Marika of pure gratitude, then frowned as Harissa's voice cut across the gentle din of a dinner for 18.: "Who said you were worthy to look at my lord, much less sit at the same table?"
Lightning was fed up with her manner, and politely returned with: "I am a guest of Sheik Daveed & first wife Marika, not Noel Kreiss, Harissa. Exactly whose permission do I need today? It seems there are so many lords here, I don't know where to start? Please be kind enough to guide all through the custom here?" Her eyes hardened briefly before saying: "Whom is first here? Well? We anxiously await your wisdom, kupo."
"You fail to obey your bind mate, so why even be at the table? You walked away from it, so perhaps you should return to your city and quit playing at being a nomad."
"Who said I walked away? How does choosing another bind mate in front of me without releasing me from his challenge qualify as disobedience? And who says you're qualified? I don't see a chain on your wrist, oh kupo!" Lightning had been coached well by Marika, but failed to judge the vicious desperation behind the pretty mask of Harissa.
She rose, screeched and splashed Lightning's face with her tea and raised her hand to slap her; she found herself spun and pinned, her arm digging into the tender nerves of her shoulder; she squalled like a freshly gelded lamb, and furiously tried to break free. Lightning calmly remarked: "Oh yes. Go ahead, try." " Harissa cursed, flopping like a fish. Lightning's voice cracked like a whip: "I said rise, servant. See? you can't – and now attend to my words: I am telling you now, drop your claim on Noel Kreiss. Let the man make up his own mind first, will you?"
"Etro-damn, I have claim! He slept with me! He let ME into his tent and let be as the mate to him, not HER! SHE has no claim!"
"Slept with you?! Exactly when did the heavens move, Harissa? You've not shared my bedroll, or you're that unremarkable!" Noel's accented tenor sarcastically commented.
By this time, everyone was disturbed and Daveed was angry such a scene was taking place at his dinner table; Marika hid a smile of delight, as things were finally moving and the long-overdue scene of Harissa's comeuppance was finally happening. He beloved lion of the desert rose and bawled: "MUST I have this howling jackal in my ear all dinner long!? I am sick of these foolish squabbles of who has a right to a man or not! By the god, I'll judge this one for you, if you two cannot come to your senses and be STILL!" Lightning stayed silent and rather mockingly raised her hands in a graceful Namaste to her forehead, but Harissa spluttered:"What? How dare- " She was cut off by her Sheik's howl of rage and he stomped off, throwing over his shoulder: "Etro-damn, I have a tent full of flea-bitten she-mongrels tonight! To the seat of wisdom, children! And someone bring me a rakesh!"
Noel was mortified at the two women fighting over him and just laid his head in his hands and moaned. He failed to see the humor in it, as Marika and Rhea did; Daniel grinned at him when he raised his head and said pleasantly: "Welcome to 509 AF, little brother scorpion. By the way, that janissary woman looks damned fine tonight. If you're seriously not interested, can I have a shot at her? I've always wanted a mate I could practice sword with! "Daniel knew full well his friend had been wild, passionately wild, about his rose haired darling until recently, and now that he knew the cause – A nose that was a trifle too long that belonged to none other than Harissa Ibn Etienne!
He was set to have some fun until Noel gave it up and challenged Major Farron. Harissa was nothing; the scene was the typical brawl she'd caused within her brother's tent – anytime someone had a fine young man in their sights, she simply took over and tried to take him for herself, and be damned to any rules or sense of fair play. He couldn't help but tease his handsome little brother; he was sharp little scorpion, but it was now quite obvious he was coltishly ignorant of women in some areas; but then, Daniel finally figured out that Noel grew up in a world where they were far and few in between; he'd noticed Noel's behavior with the men; he demonstrated the good manner of the highest caste; but women, oh Etro; he'd have to sit him down soon with some rakesh and get the real story why he'd gone crazy and brought Lightning Claire Farron out here to tame. He knew her by reputation on his visits to the city to trade, and almost whistled when he'd found out the beauty Noel had unveiled was none other than the garrison's Major. The boy had some sand in his shoes to be able to chase that down. Still grinning, Daniel settled down on the rug by Noel as an elder brother and legal advisor through the Sheik's trial judgment process, and tuned his ears back into Harissa's annoying voice.