To be perfectly honest, right from the very beginning Ali hadn't known what to make of Aurens. Their introduction hadn't been a good one, that much was perfectly true. But the way Lawrence looked at him…..his blue eyes were hard, pure hatred in them. Ali wasn't used to that, to someone wearing their feelings so openly. It fascinated him, maybe even more so because Lawrence's voice was so soft, the emotion bubbling just below the surface. Maybe he was trying to keep it all under control because they would both be working for Feisal? Whatever the reason, it was interesting.
Then he called Ali…..what was it….."silly, barbarous, and cruel". That wasn't so amusing. Still, Ali couldn't help but be intrigued, even more so when Lawrence refused his offer of help, that coolness never failing, not even when Ali threatened to take his compass. Ali couldn't help but respect that. "God be with you, English." And amazingly, he truly meant the words.
Meeting Lawrence a second time wasn't as pleasant. However interesting the man may be, Ali didn't trust British officers, especially when they seemed supportive of the Arab cause. At least this man Brighton made his intentions clear, telling them that the English would not attack Aqaba. Aurens, on the other hand, quoted scripture to Feisal, capturing his attention, then went on to contradict everything Brighton said. If it was an act, it was a damn good one. Brighton certainly seemed upset by it. When they all retired for the night, Feisal asked Aurens to stay behind, even after Ali had left. Dammit, did that make him angry. He was burning to know what the Englishman was saying in there. But he would not question Feisal. Still, he watched from the shadows as Aurens emerged from the tent. The man had an extremely pensive look on his face, brow furrowed in thought. Ali watched Aurens pace long into the night. He remained up, maintaining a silent watch with those two young boys who had taken such a liking to Aurens (God knows why), keeping his distance so he would not be seen. Only when Aurens finally stirred in the early hours of the morning did he move, returning to his tent before he could be noticed.
And then Aurens revealed his plan. Aquaba. The man had to be insane. Ali felt that already familiar irritation at Aurens' presumption, the way he assumed crossing the Nefud would be easy. Still, despite that, he couldn't help but feel a grudging respect growing. The mere fact that Aurens would even dare to attempt the journey was worthy of admiration, even more so when one took into account the fact that he had in fact found his way to Feisal without a guide. Maybe he could make the trip.
So Ali agreed. It was worth a try. They would only be risking fifty men, which was not a large loss to Feisal in the grand scheme of things, and if they pulled it off, the reward would be great. And if he was lucky, he would get a chance to see Aurens suffer a little along the way. Maybe it was petty; he didn't care.
He got his wish. Aurens hid it well, but it was easy to see that he was suffering. Ali felt a little guilty that he got pleasure out of the sight, but he couldn't help but be happy that the man would find out for himself: Life in the desert was not easy. One way or another, Aurens would learn that.
Even better was when he caught the man asleep on his camel. Oh God, was that satisfying. Ali gave Aurens a smack with his riding crop, hitting just a tiny bit harder than he normally would (so who could blame him…..it was hot and Aurens was annoying). The Englishman tried to deny that he had been drifting but Ali simply stared at him levelly. "You were drifting."
"….yes," Aurens admitted. Oh, it was so gratifying to hear. "It will not happen again."
"Be warned. You were drifting." He had to rub it in, he just had to.
The Englishman turned to him, displeasure written on his face, but he knew he had been caught in a bad position and clearly didn't want to fight. Still, he annunciated every word of his reply, his irritation clear. "It will not happen again."
Smug, Ali rode off. This trip was proving more enjoyable than he had expected.
He was relieved when they made it across the Sun's Anvil, though he refused to let it show. Relieved until he realized that somewhere along the way, Gasim had fallen from his camel, and been left behind. To have made it through the Nefud and only lose one man was good, but not good enough. He felt an overwhelming surge of anger towards Aurens, an anger that only grew when the man insisted he was going back.
"Go back, then! English! Blasphemer!" He was screaming and he couldn't quite explain why. "What did you bring us here for, with your blasphemous conceit?"
He was even more furious at the way that Aurens completely ignored him, simply riding past as he continued to yell. "Go back, blasphemer! But you will not be at Aqaba!"
That finally seemed to get Aurens' attention and he turned. The smile on his face almost made Ali explode. "I shall be at Aqaba. That is written. Here." And he tapped his forehead. With that he turned away again and rode off.
Ali didn't know that he had ever been so angry as he was at this moment. His entire body was trembling with rage as he watched Aurens disappear from sight. "ENGLISH! ENGLISH!"
After that there was nothing to do but wait. The other men got some much needed rest and refreshment, and watered the camels. Ali could not rest. He sat moodily drawing patterns in the dirt with his riding crop, unable to get a moment's peace, still fuming. It was an indescribable feeling of rage, so many emotions bubbling inside him. He was furious with Aurens. For bringing them on this trip in the first place, and for leaving them now.
And yet he was also….afraid? He didn't want to see Aurens disappear into that desert, never to return. He didn't want Aurens to die. Somehow, despite all the frustrations and irritations, he had grown attached to the man. The Englishman had been the one to come up with this plan, as crazy as it had been, and despite the odds, had survived the Nefud. To see him die now due to some overdeveloped sense of loyalty to a man he barely knew…..Ali hated to think of it.
A sudden cry split the relative quiet. Ali's ears pricked up. Looking, he saw Farraj charging down the hill where he had been keeping lookout, stumbling in his hurry and falling, nearly rolling down half of it.
It can't be.
But it had to. Only one thing could have the boy that excited. Ali was on his feet in an instant, skin of water in his hand, dark eyes searching and….yes. There they were, Daud and Aurens, with a very tired looking Gasim clinging to his waist.
Ali couldn't believe his eyes. He strode through the crowd, knowing how exhausted and parched Aurens must be. Suddenly, he realized that Aurens was looking his way, those eyes locked on him. It made his heart skip a little beat for no reason he could understand.
Many people were offering Aurens water, but for some reason, he wasn't accepting any of them. Then he stopped, camel kneeling right beside Ali. Those eyes found him again, those eyes that had struck him so deeply at their first meeting. He realized yet again just how piercing a blue they were.
Smiling, he stepped forward and offered the water to Aurens. Both of them saw it for what it was: a peace offering. His heart raced nervously as he waited to see if Aurens would accept.
He did.
Pausing, water in hand, Aurens whispered "nothing is written," in a voice dry from hours spent in the desert, then drank long and deep.
Several men offered their beds to Aurens, but he passed them all. Ali waited to see if he would do the same with Ali's, but no; this time, he accepted. Ali watched him nearly collapse onto the blanket, briefly nuzzling his face against the rough fabric before he fell asleep.
It was many hours later when Aurens awoke. Ali was ridiculously happy to see that he wasn't the only one whose mood had changed. Aurens was much more open with him, even smiling as they spoke, and this time not that smug little smile that made Ali want to hit him.
Then came the awkward revelation about his father. For a moment, Ali was worried that he had overstepped his bounds, that all the progress they had made this day would be lost. Aurens looked so regretful, and for some reason even apologized to Ali. Apologized! As if Ali would think any less of him for having unmarried parents.
When Ali spoke again, his voice was soft. "It seems to me…that you are free to choose your own name, then."
The reaction was immediate. Aurens' head snapped up; he looked at Ali in surprise. Ali's heart was beating so fast, like a small bird, so nervous that he had said something wrong.
But Aurens wasn't upset. "Yes," he answered, "I suppose I am."
Ali smiled. "El Aurens is best."
The most beautiful expression came over Aurens' face. It was a smile…small, but it was there, and such an honest happiness that Ali felt he could melt on the spot. "Alright," the Englishman whispered. "I'll settle for 'El Aurens." With that, he turned away, but not before Ali saw the tears filling his eyes. Still, he knew they were tears of gladness. He had said something right…made Aurens happy. And despite the fact that up until several hours ago, they had been at each other's throats, that made him happier than he had felt in…..God. How long had it been?
Leaning in, he pulled the blanket up over Aurens (how nice was that name to say now, knowing Aurens had accepted it as his real name, not just the one the Arabs could easily pronounce?). Then, a thought occurred. Moving to the makeshift line they had hung Aurens' clothes up to dry on, he picked up each piece and threw them onto the fire one by one. An ordinary British uniform was not good enough for El Aurens. He would do something about that first thing tomorrow.
~tbc~