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The last thing she’d wanted to do was to stay this close to the ugly, muddy city for this length of time. The sandstorm was nearly done but for one reason and another, Hasani had decided they must keep their tents pitched here, where their people were safe enough. She disagreed. They were not safe while they were so close to the eternal water, where outsiders of all shapes and sizes put into port on their huge water mounts. Or, what was the word that Saro had used? Ships? Something close to that.
Added to all this, she’d noticed that her cycle was late. This happened sometimes, and, whenever she’d mentioned it to one of the women of the tribe in the past, they’d praised her and said that a baby was growing. Or, at least they used to. In the last few years, no one tried to get her hopes up. If she said anything, their eyes would dart away or they would give her a guarded, hopeful sort of response, or, even worse, they would look sad and say nothing at all. She could read in their faces what their opinions on a baby being born of her womb were; there would be no baby. So she’d learned to keep any news of her monthly cycle to herself and to tell no one, not even her husband.
This time was no different. She’d noticed that her time had come and gone. For days she’d waited and nothing happened. They’d been afflicted by the storm, and still no blood. And then? Just when the first dregs of hope had started to inch their way into her heart, even though she’d forbidden anything of the sort, she’d felt the telltale rush of warmth between her legs as she sat grinding flour.
Gently setting the mortar and pestle down, Tanishe had closed the tent flaps and checked to find glistening blood. Swallowing hard, she discarded her undergarments and got into her bags, taking out the thick swath of thick, hard packed wood pulp, wrapped in an oblong shape, and placed it inside new undergarments. Like all women, she had several of these and would swap them out from time to time. Being pregnant would have saved her from the shame of having to give the used ones over to slaves to clean. Everyone would know that, again, the Leirin was late, and now her blood had come. There would be no baby. Not this time. Again.
In the past, she’d cried, and though her heart weighed her chest down like a stone plunking in water, she couldn’t bring herself to cry. Not anymore. The tears didn’t make her feel better, only worse. And so she’d sat back down to continue to grind the flour, not allowing herself to ruminate on her situation. Hopefully Hasani wasn’t keeping any sort of track with her body’s schedule. Hopefully he’d never even know. The worst part about this ailment, or whatever it was that prevented her from carrying a child, was seeing the hope live and die, even for seconds, within her husband’s face.
He often said that she was enough, but she knew better. He’d jump straight over the moon if she could finally put a wailing infant of any gender into his waiting arms. It wasn’t fair to him. Hasani was born to raise children and even Neena had given him none. Tanishe had harbored the hope that it was herself that was the sole problem but, perhaps not. Or, perhaps Hasani was just cursed with loving two women unable to give him what he most wanted.
Those thoughts were leading her down a dangerous path and she felt her face growing hot. With great determination, she made herself focus strictly on the fat, heavy end of the pestle as she ground it to and fro along the bowl, turning the grain into a fine tan powder that she would then add water and leavening for bread the next day. Her monthlies never lasted very long anymore and within a few days, there was nothing left.
She was fit to be seen in public again and with the evidence of her inability gone, she was more than ready to face life again. Tanishe, like anyone, was not immune to regret, or momentary lapses in self pity, but she was strong within herself and never stayed that way for long. That was not a way to live. One could not constantly allow oneself to stay in the world of ‘want’. One must simply embrace life the way it is and the way it ‘was’ meant she did not have enough moon foam.
The only good thing about this city was that it was near an outcropping of caves. These caves were not thoroughly explored, but there were places within them that had been and she knew of some of these spots from her mother’s description. Setting out in the cool of the morning with her husband as both her company and her safety measure, they walked through the sleepy camp toward the rocky wall that ringed the Port of the West.
This close to the outskirts of the ‘city’ and she could smell urine soaking the dirt in the streets. Dogs lapped at disgusting pools of who even knew what, and a hugely fat cat bawled at them as they passed. She eyed the cat, thinking it would look good atop her husband’s spear as a trophy, but did not stop to tell him so. She wasn’t feeling talkative, despite being determined to be positive.
They made their way fairly quickly, each of them with a torch in hand. On her arm was a woven, brightly dyed basket of teal wicker with threads of scarlet and dark blue made into diamond shapes decorating the outside. The basket housed several clinking jars that she intended to scrape the moon foam into, as well as a flat, dull, squarish blade to do that with.
The moon foam was not totally necessary but definitely a nice thing to have, especially for wound healing. The wanted as much of it as they could manage before they moved on and this was the first day that she was able to go herself, which was the only way she’d have accepted it.
“Here, husband,” she said, offering her hand so that he could help her up onto the rocks guarding a particularly narrow cave entrance. This particular cave was cool and drastically different from the desert outside of it. Inside they would find no plants, no animals, no insects. It would be eerily silent, save for the crackle of their torches. This cave was also comprised of limestone, which seemed to be connected to the growth of the moon foam, though Tanishe was hardly a scientist. She was basing all of her knowledge of this substance on what others had told her.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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The last thing she’d wanted to do was to stay this close to the ugly, muddy city for this length of time. The sandstorm was nearly done but for one reason and another, Hasani had decided they must keep their tents pitched here, where their people were safe enough. She disagreed. They were not safe while they were so close to the eternal water, where outsiders of all shapes and sizes put into port on their huge water mounts. Or, what was the word that Saro had used? Ships? Something close to that.
Added to all this, she’d noticed that her cycle was late. This happened sometimes, and, whenever she’d mentioned it to one of the women of the tribe in the past, they’d praised her and said that a baby was growing. Or, at least they used to. In the last few years, no one tried to get her hopes up. If she said anything, their eyes would dart away or they would give her a guarded, hopeful sort of response, or, even worse, they would look sad and say nothing at all. She could read in their faces what their opinions on a baby being born of her womb were; there would be no baby. So she’d learned to keep any news of her monthly cycle to herself and to tell no one, not even her husband.
This time was no different. She’d noticed that her time had come and gone. For days she’d waited and nothing happened. They’d been afflicted by the storm, and still no blood. And then? Just when the first dregs of hope had started to inch their way into her heart, even though she’d forbidden anything of the sort, she’d felt the telltale rush of warmth between her legs as she sat grinding flour.
Gently setting the mortar and pestle down, Tanishe had closed the tent flaps and checked to find glistening blood. Swallowing hard, she discarded her undergarments and got into her bags, taking out the thick swath of thick, hard packed wood pulp, wrapped in an oblong shape, and placed it inside new undergarments. Like all women, she had several of these and would swap them out from time to time. Being pregnant would have saved her from the shame of having to give the used ones over to slaves to clean. Everyone would know that, again, the Leirin was late, and now her blood had come. There would be no baby. Not this time. Again.
In the past, she’d cried, and though her heart weighed her chest down like a stone plunking in water, she couldn’t bring herself to cry. Not anymore. The tears didn’t make her feel better, only worse. And so she’d sat back down to continue to grind the flour, not allowing herself to ruminate on her situation. Hopefully Hasani wasn’t keeping any sort of track with her body’s schedule. Hopefully he’d never even know. The worst part about this ailment, or whatever it was that prevented her from carrying a child, was seeing the hope live and die, even for seconds, within her husband’s face.
He often said that she was enough, but she knew better. He’d jump straight over the moon if she could finally put a wailing infant of any gender into his waiting arms. It wasn’t fair to him. Hasani was born to raise children and even Neena had given him none. Tanishe had harbored the hope that it was herself that was the sole problem but, perhaps not. Or, perhaps Hasani was just cursed with loving two women unable to give him what he most wanted.
Those thoughts were leading her down a dangerous path and she felt her face growing hot. With great determination, she made herself focus strictly on the fat, heavy end of the pestle as she ground it to and fro along the bowl, turning the grain into a fine tan powder that she would then add water and leavening for bread the next day. Her monthlies never lasted very long anymore and within a few days, there was nothing left.
She was fit to be seen in public again and with the evidence of her inability gone, she was more than ready to face life again. Tanishe, like anyone, was not immune to regret, or momentary lapses in self pity, but she was strong within herself and never stayed that way for long. That was not a way to live. One could not constantly allow oneself to stay in the world of ‘want’. One must simply embrace life the way it is and the way it ‘was’ meant she did not have enough moon foam.
The only good thing about this city was that it was near an outcropping of caves. These caves were not thoroughly explored, but there were places within them that had been and she knew of some of these spots from her mother’s description. Setting out in the cool of the morning with her husband as both her company and her safety measure, they walked through the sleepy camp toward the rocky wall that ringed the Port of the West.
This close to the outskirts of the ‘city’ and she could smell urine soaking the dirt in the streets. Dogs lapped at disgusting pools of who even knew what, and a hugely fat cat bawled at them as they passed. She eyed the cat, thinking it would look good atop her husband’s spear as a trophy, but did not stop to tell him so. She wasn’t feeling talkative, despite being determined to be positive.
They made their way fairly quickly, each of them with a torch in hand. On her arm was a woven, brightly dyed basket of teal wicker with threads of scarlet and dark blue made into diamond shapes decorating the outside. The basket housed several clinking jars that she intended to scrape the moon foam into, as well as a flat, dull, squarish blade to do that with.
The moon foam was not totally necessary but definitely a nice thing to have, especially for wound healing. The wanted as much of it as they could manage before they moved on and this was the first day that she was able to go herself, which was the only way she’d have accepted it.
“Here, husband,” she said, offering her hand so that he could help her up onto the rocks guarding a particularly narrow cave entrance. This particular cave was cool and drastically different from the desert outside of it. Inside they would find no plants, no animals, no insects. It would be eerily silent, save for the crackle of their torches. This cave was also comprised of limestone, which seemed to be connected to the growth of the moon foam, though Tanishe was hardly a scientist. She was basing all of her knowledge of this substance on what others had told her.
The last thing she’d wanted to do was to stay this close to the ugly, muddy city for this length of time. The sandstorm was nearly done but for one reason and another, Hasani had decided they must keep their tents pitched here, where their people were safe enough. She disagreed. They were not safe while they were so close to the eternal water, where outsiders of all shapes and sizes put into port on their huge water mounts. Or, what was the word that Saro had used? Ships? Something close to that.
Added to all this, she’d noticed that her cycle was late. This happened sometimes, and, whenever she’d mentioned it to one of the women of the tribe in the past, they’d praised her and said that a baby was growing. Or, at least they used to. In the last few years, no one tried to get her hopes up. If she said anything, their eyes would dart away or they would give her a guarded, hopeful sort of response, or, even worse, they would look sad and say nothing at all. She could read in their faces what their opinions on a baby being born of her womb were; there would be no baby. So she’d learned to keep any news of her monthly cycle to herself and to tell no one, not even her husband.
This time was no different. She’d noticed that her time had come and gone. For days she’d waited and nothing happened. They’d been afflicted by the storm, and still no blood. And then? Just when the first dregs of hope had started to inch their way into her heart, even though she’d forbidden anything of the sort, she’d felt the telltale rush of warmth between her legs as she sat grinding flour.
Gently setting the mortar and pestle down, Tanishe had closed the tent flaps and checked to find glistening blood. Swallowing hard, she discarded her undergarments and got into her bags, taking out the thick swath of thick, hard packed wood pulp, wrapped in an oblong shape, and placed it inside new undergarments. Like all women, she had several of these and would swap them out from time to time. Being pregnant would have saved her from the shame of having to give the used ones over to slaves to clean. Everyone would know that, again, the Leirin was late, and now her blood had come. There would be no baby. Not this time. Again.
In the past, she’d cried, and though her heart weighed her chest down like a stone plunking in water, she couldn’t bring herself to cry. Not anymore. The tears didn’t make her feel better, only worse. And so she’d sat back down to continue to grind the flour, not allowing herself to ruminate on her situation. Hopefully Hasani wasn’t keeping any sort of track with her body’s schedule. Hopefully he’d never even know. The worst part about this ailment, or whatever it was that prevented her from carrying a child, was seeing the hope live and die, even for seconds, within her husband’s face.
He often said that she was enough, but she knew better. He’d jump straight over the moon if she could finally put a wailing infant of any gender into his waiting arms. It wasn’t fair to him. Hasani was born to raise children and even Neena had given him none. Tanishe had harbored the hope that it was herself that was the sole problem but, perhaps not. Or, perhaps Hasani was just cursed with loving two women unable to give him what he most wanted.
Those thoughts were leading her down a dangerous path and she felt her face growing hot. With great determination, she made herself focus strictly on the fat, heavy end of the pestle as she ground it to and fro along the bowl, turning the grain into a fine tan powder that she would then add water and leavening for bread the next day. Her monthlies never lasted very long anymore and within a few days, there was nothing left.
She was fit to be seen in public again and with the evidence of her inability gone, she was more than ready to face life again. Tanishe, like anyone, was not immune to regret, or momentary lapses in self pity, but she was strong within herself and never stayed that way for long. That was not a way to live. One could not constantly allow oneself to stay in the world of ‘want’. One must simply embrace life the way it is and the way it ‘was’ meant she did not have enough moon foam.
The only good thing about this city was that it was near an outcropping of caves. These caves were not thoroughly explored, but there were places within them that had been and she knew of some of these spots from her mother’s description. Setting out in the cool of the morning with her husband as both her company and her safety measure, they walked through the sleepy camp toward the rocky wall that ringed the Port of the West.
This close to the outskirts of the ‘city’ and she could smell urine soaking the dirt in the streets. Dogs lapped at disgusting pools of who even knew what, and a hugely fat cat bawled at them as they passed. She eyed the cat, thinking it would look good atop her husband’s spear as a trophy, but did not stop to tell him so. She wasn’t feeling talkative, despite being determined to be positive.
They made their way fairly quickly, each of them with a torch in hand. On her arm was a woven, brightly dyed basket of teal wicker with threads of scarlet and dark blue made into diamond shapes decorating the outside. The basket housed several clinking jars that she intended to scrape the moon foam into, as well as a flat, dull, squarish blade to do that with.
The moon foam was not totally necessary but definitely a nice thing to have, especially for wound healing. The wanted as much of it as they could manage before they moved on and this was the first day that she was able to go herself, which was the only way she’d have accepted it.
“Here, husband,” she said, offering her hand so that he could help her up onto the rocks guarding a particularly narrow cave entrance. This particular cave was cool and drastically different from the desert outside of it. Inside they would find no plants, no animals, no insects. It would be eerily silent, save for the crackle of their torches. This cave was also comprised of limestone, which seemed to be connected to the growth of the moon foam, though Tanishe was hardly a scientist. She was basing all of her knowledge of this substance on what others had told her.
Hasani had witnessed Tanishe handing off her supplies to a slave early in the morning. There was a part of him that had been desperately hoping that this time was it. This was their chance. This was going to be their baby. Having always kept a mental track of the cycle of both the moon and his wife, she had noticed that there were extra nights that they had been able to roll into bed together. That was where his own hope had blossomed. Maybe they wouldn't have to try anymore.
But as soon as he had seen her dealing with her cycle, in private, and keeping away from the tribe, he had known and understood that a baby was not happening. Again. Was he the problem? Neena had never once born him a child either. Were the ancestors punishing him for something he had no recollection doing? Surely not. He was no prophet, but he tried his hardest to ensure that his tribe was safe and sound. That each and every person was healthy and well taken care of. Not everyone agreed with his choices, and he had made some mistakes, but surely all leiers made mistakes?
Surely they did.
He was not in the greatest of moods that day, either. The two of them walked in stilted, discontented silence. Between the two of them, Hasani was sure that there was awareness of what they had lost. Yet again. There was no changing it despite the desperation they both felt for a child. But life needed to go on and they could not spend their lives wishing for something that they could likely never have. The two of them would die with no children of their own to look after.
The thing that hurt the most was that Tanishe would never be well and truly claimed by himself. She would never have the honor of being a full-fledged wife of a man of the tribe. Because she would have produced no heirs, male or female. It was devestating to know that a woman of such great breeding would find no honor in seeing a child of her own ascend to the position of leier or leierin one day.
And he was just making himself more and more frustrated as they walked. So he didn't talk. Not even when they reachd the cave and she offered him her hand to help her up and over the rocks. Hasani did so without complaint, following her over and then leading her the first few steps into the cave. They had bigger things to worry about, he supposed, though his mood did not brighten even once out of the blistering sun.
"Let us make short work of this," he groused a little, not sure if his shame was with his wife or with his own ability to do his duty to his wife. Surely, it was him to blame, not her. He wasn't sure how good of company he would be, thinking maybe that he should have sent Mwenye with her until he was able to get his head on straight.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Hasani had witnessed Tanishe handing off her supplies to a slave early in the morning. There was a part of him that had been desperately hoping that this time was it. This was their chance. This was going to be their baby. Having always kept a mental track of the cycle of both the moon and his wife, she had noticed that there were extra nights that they had been able to roll into bed together. That was where his own hope had blossomed. Maybe they wouldn't have to try anymore.
But as soon as he had seen her dealing with her cycle, in private, and keeping away from the tribe, he had known and understood that a baby was not happening. Again. Was he the problem? Neena had never once born him a child either. Were the ancestors punishing him for something he had no recollection doing? Surely not. He was no prophet, but he tried his hardest to ensure that his tribe was safe and sound. That each and every person was healthy and well taken care of. Not everyone agreed with his choices, and he had made some mistakes, but surely all leiers made mistakes?
Surely they did.
He was not in the greatest of moods that day, either. The two of them walked in stilted, discontented silence. Between the two of them, Hasani was sure that there was awareness of what they had lost. Yet again. There was no changing it despite the desperation they both felt for a child. But life needed to go on and they could not spend their lives wishing for something that they could likely never have. The two of them would die with no children of their own to look after.
The thing that hurt the most was that Tanishe would never be well and truly claimed by himself. She would never have the honor of being a full-fledged wife of a man of the tribe. Because she would have produced no heirs, male or female. It was devestating to know that a woman of such great breeding would find no honor in seeing a child of her own ascend to the position of leier or leierin one day.
And he was just making himself more and more frustrated as they walked. So he didn't talk. Not even when they reachd the cave and she offered him her hand to help her up and over the rocks. Hasani did so without complaint, following her over and then leading her the first few steps into the cave. They had bigger things to worry about, he supposed, though his mood did not brighten even once out of the blistering sun.
"Let us make short work of this," he groused a little, not sure if his shame was with his wife or with his own ability to do his duty to his wife. Surely, it was him to blame, not her. He wasn't sure how good of company he would be, thinking maybe that he should have sent Mwenye with her until he was able to get his head on straight.
Hasani had witnessed Tanishe handing off her supplies to a slave early in the morning. There was a part of him that had been desperately hoping that this time was it. This was their chance. This was going to be their baby. Having always kept a mental track of the cycle of both the moon and his wife, she had noticed that there were extra nights that they had been able to roll into bed together. That was where his own hope had blossomed. Maybe they wouldn't have to try anymore.
But as soon as he had seen her dealing with her cycle, in private, and keeping away from the tribe, he had known and understood that a baby was not happening. Again. Was he the problem? Neena had never once born him a child either. Were the ancestors punishing him for something he had no recollection doing? Surely not. He was no prophet, but he tried his hardest to ensure that his tribe was safe and sound. That each and every person was healthy and well taken care of. Not everyone agreed with his choices, and he had made some mistakes, but surely all leiers made mistakes?
Surely they did.
He was not in the greatest of moods that day, either. The two of them walked in stilted, discontented silence. Between the two of them, Hasani was sure that there was awareness of what they had lost. Yet again. There was no changing it despite the desperation they both felt for a child. But life needed to go on and they could not spend their lives wishing for something that they could likely never have. The two of them would die with no children of their own to look after.
The thing that hurt the most was that Tanishe would never be well and truly claimed by himself. She would never have the honor of being a full-fledged wife of a man of the tribe. Because she would have produced no heirs, male or female. It was devestating to know that a woman of such great breeding would find no honor in seeing a child of her own ascend to the position of leier or leierin one day.
And he was just making himself more and more frustrated as they walked. So he didn't talk. Not even when they reachd the cave and she offered him her hand to help her up and over the rocks. Hasani did so without complaint, following her over and then leading her the first few steps into the cave. They had bigger things to worry about, he supposed, though his mood did not brighten even once out of the blistering sun.
"Let us make short work of this," he groused a little, not sure if his shame was with his wife or with his own ability to do his duty to his wife. Surely, it was him to blame, not her. He wasn't sure how good of company he would be, thinking maybe that he should have sent Mwenye with her until he was able to get his head on straight.
Tanishe hated the gulf between them. Having her husband upset with her was definitely not the worst thing she’d ever experienced, but it was definitely an uncomfortable thing; especially as they were going to be spending an extended period of time together today, alone. There would be no one else to break up the melancholy that made up the bulk of her husband’s mood. He was usually a happy, smiling person, more prone to laughter than anything else. The harsh set to his features made him even more handsome than usual, but it also made her regret asking him to come with her. What good was it if he was more attractive if he was less inclined to be kind?
Knowing better than to make him talk, Tanishe kept her thoughts to herself. She made no comment when she accidentally picked up a rock in her sandal and merely stopped without a word, dumped out the pebble, and kept going. As they neared the cave, Hasani finally broke his silence, but his tone made her wish he’d have kept quiet. She should have brought someone else, she thought again. Someone that wouldn’t have taken this as a punishment. Any of the other warriors would have done, but she was used to asking her Leier for whatever she needed. Ah well. Next time she had a miscarriage, and she would, most definitely, if history kept repeating itself, she’d just keep out of his way until he sought her out. She hated being this disappointing to him.
"Let us make short work of this.”
“Yes, husband,” she said softly, withdrawing her hand and grasping the rocks on her own instead. It would have been easier if he’d taken her hand and helped her, but she was definitely capable of doing this on her own. Setting her sandal on the top of a rounded rock, she pushed up, grabbing the next rock with her fingers. Despite the desert sun, the stone was cool against her palm and fingers. As she came up level with the cave’s entrance, she smiled at the cold dank air pressing against her face. Being cold in the day time was such a rarity that she was finding herself more excited than sad. She could do nothing to improve her husband’s mood and so she would not let it weigh on her so.
The cave entrance was not level with the cave’s floor and Tanishe crouched in the narrow entrance, working up the nerve to jump. She thought of Neena, who’d have clambered up without a second’s hesitation and would have gone flying into the darkness without care or concern. Sometimes Tanishe wished she was like that, but she was infinitely more cautious and she peered down into the darkness, unwilling to move until she gauged the distance. Her hesitation was only a few seconds. All at once, she let her body tip forward, arms out, feet ready, and dropped onto the floor. Rising steadily, she grinned to herself.
“Just like a leopard,” she whispered to herself. Her voice echoed in the cave, the only thing disturbing the absolute stillness. The darkness was nigh impenetrable and she reached into her bag, drawing out the torches they’d brought with them. Finding the cave wall, she crouched down and set each torch up on its end, making sure they were steady before she reached back into the depths of her bag. From there, she took out flint and scraped one stone against another. Sparks jumped but didn’t catch the torches immediately. Hasani was down in the cave with her by the time she had the first torch lit.
Without speaking, she handed him his torch and put the flint away. She then picked up her torch and lit it using his fire. Holding hers up, she looked around, finding the cave to be interesting, to say the least. The floor was comprised of fine, soft dirt, rather than sand. She bent down to sift it between her fingers, marveling that it was almost like a mix between powder and paste; not quite wet, not quite dry. Then she stood back up and, true to her word about this being a quick trip, began looking for the telltale signs of the soft white substance they’d come for. Most of the time it would be on the cave ceiling and she did find some immediately, but it was far, far too high for them to ever hope to reach.
Glancing at her husband, she gave him a deferential nod and then moved softly and gracefully through the darkness. Despite knowing her husband wanted this over quickly, she did not move fast. Tanishe knew that caves could have sudden drop offs or the ground could give out randomly. She wanted the two of them to make it out of this alive.
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Tanishe hated the gulf between them. Having her husband upset with her was definitely not the worst thing she’d ever experienced, but it was definitely an uncomfortable thing; especially as they were going to be spending an extended period of time together today, alone. There would be no one else to break up the melancholy that made up the bulk of her husband’s mood. He was usually a happy, smiling person, more prone to laughter than anything else. The harsh set to his features made him even more handsome than usual, but it also made her regret asking him to come with her. What good was it if he was more attractive if he was less inclined to be kind?
Knowing better than to make him talk, Tanishe kept her thoughts to herself. She made no comment when she accidentally picked up a rock in her sandal and merely stopped without a word, dumped out the pebble, and kept going. As they neared the cave, Hasani finally broke his silence, but his tone made her wish he’d have kept quiet. She should have brought someone else, she thought again. Someone that wouldn’t have taken this as a punishment. Any of the other warriors would have done, but she was used to asking her Leier for whatever she needed. Ah well. Next time she had a miscarriage, and she would, most definitely, if history kept repeating itself, she’d just keep out of his way until he sought her out. She hated being this disappointing to him.
"Let us make short work of this.”
“Yes, husband,” she said softly, withdrawing her hand and grasping the rocks on her own instead. It would have been easier if he’d taken her hand and helped her, but she was definitely capable of doing this on her own. Setting her sandal on the top of a rounded rock, she pushed up, grabbing the next rock with her fingers. Despite the desert sun, the stone was cool against her palm and fingers. As she came up level with the cave’s entrance, she smiled at the cold dank air pressing against her face. Being cold in the day time was such a rarity that she was finding herself more excited than sad. She could do nothing to improve her husband’s mood and so she would not let it weigh on her so.
The cave entrance was not level with the cave’s floor and Tanishe crouched in the narrow entrance, working up the nerve to jump. She thought of Neena, who’d have clambered up without a second’s hesitation and would have gone flying into the darkness without care or concern. Sometimes Tanishe wished she was like that, but she was infinitely more cautious and she peered down into the darkness, unwilling to move until she gauged the distance. Her hesitation was only a few seconds. All at once, she let her body tip forward, arms out, feet ready, and dropped onto the floor. Rising steadily, she grinned to herself.
“Just like a leopard,” she whispered to herself. Her voice echoed in the cave, the only thing disturbing the absolute stillness. The darkness was nigh impenetrable and she reached into her bag, drawing out the torches they’d brought with them. Finding the cave wall, she crouched down and set each torch up on its end, making sure they were steady before she reached back into the depths of her bag. From there, she took out flint and scraped one stone against another. Sparks jumped but didn’t catch the torches immediately. Hasani was down in the cave with her by the time she had the first torch lit.
Without speaking, she handed him his torch and put the flint away. She then picked up her torch and lit it using his fire. Holding hers up, she looked around, finding the cave to be interesting, to say the least. The floor was comprised of fine, soft dirt, rather than sand. She bent down to sift it between her fingers, marveling that it was almost like a mix between powder and paste; not quite wet, not quite dry. Then she stood back up and, true to her word about this being a quick trip, began looking for the telltale signs of the soft white substance they’d come for. Most of the time it would be on the cave ceiling and she did find some immediately, but it was far, far too high for them to ever hope to reach.
Glancing at her husband, she gave him a deferential nod and then moved softly and gracefully through the darkness. Despite knowing her husband wanted this over quickly, she did not move fast. Tanishe knew that caves could have sudden drop offs or the ground could give out randomly. She wanted the two of them to make it out of this alive.
Tanishe hated the gulf between them. Having her husband upset with her was definitely not the worst thing she’d ever experienced, but it was definitely an uncomfortable thing; especially as they were going to be spending an extended period of time together today, alone. There would be no one else to break up the melancholy that made up the bulk of her husband’s mood. He was usually a happy, smiling person, more prone to laughter than anything else. The harsh set to his features made him even more handsome than usual, but it also made her regret asking him to come with her. What good was it if he was more attractive if he was less inclined to be kind?
Knowing better than to make him talk, Tanishe kept her thoughts to herself. She made no comment when she accidentally picked up a rock in her sandal and merely stopped without a word, dumped out the pebble, and kept going. As they neared the cave, Hasani finally broke his silence, but his tone made her wish he’d have kept quiet. She should have brought someone else, she thought again. Someone that wouldn’t have taken this as a punishment. Any of the other warriors would have done, but she was used to asking her Leier for whatever she needed. Ah well. Next time she had a miscarriage, and she would, most definitely, if history kept repeating itself, she’d just keep out of his way until he sought her out. She hated being this disappointing to him.
"Let us make short work of this.”
“Yes, husband,” she said softly, withdrawing her hand and grasping the rocks on her own instead. It would have been easier if he’d taken her hand and helped her, but she was definitely capable of doing this on her own. Setting her sandal on the top of a rounded rock, she pushed up, grabbing the next rock with her fingers. Despite the desert sun, the stone was cool against her palm and fingers. As she came up level with the cave’s entrance, she smiled at the cold dank air pressing against her face. Being cold in the day time was such a rarity that she was finding herself more excited than sad. She could do nothing to improve her husband’s mood and so she would not let it weigh on her so.
The cave entrance was not level with the cave’s floor and Tanishe crouched in the narrow entrance, working up the nerve to jump. She thought of Neena, who’d have clambered up without a second’s hesitation and would have gone flying into the darkness without care or concern. Sometimes Tanishe wished she was like that, but she was infinitely more cautious and she peered down into the darkness, unwilling to move until she gauged the distance. Her hesitation was only a few seconds. All at once, she let her body tip forward, arms out, feet ready, and dropped onto the floor. Rising steadily, she grinned to herself.
“Just like a leopard,” she whispered to herself. Her voice echoed in the cave, the only thing disturbing the absolute stillness. The darkness was nigh impenetrable and she reached into her bag, drawing out the torches they’d brought with them. Finding the cave wall, she crouched down and set each torch up on its end, making sure they were steady before she reached back into the depths of her bag. From there, she took out flint and scraped one stone against another. Sparks jumped but didn’t catch the torches immediately. Hasani was down in the cave with her by the time she had the first torch lit.
Without speaking, she handed him his torch and put the flint away. She then picked up her torch and lit it using his fire. Holding hers up, she looked around, finding the cave to be interesting, to say the least. The floor was comprised of fine, soft dirt, rather than sand. She bent down to sift it between her fingers, marveling that it was almost like a mix between powder and paste; not quite wet, not quite dry. Then she stood back up and, true to her word about this being a quick trip, began looking for the telltale signs of the soft white substance they’d come for. Most of the time it would be on the cave ceiling and she did find some immediately, but it was far, far too high for them to ever hope to reach.
Glancing at her husband, she gave him a deferential nod and then moved softly and gracefully through the darkness. Despite knowing her husband wanted this over quickly, she did not move fast. Tanishe knew that caves could have sudden drop offs or the ground could give out randomly. She wanted the two of them to make it out of this alive.
It was the distance that Tanishe put between the two of them, subtly and without true malice, that caught Hasani's attention. It was an unusual formation of distance between them. It was entirely rare that Hasani was in a black mood at all, but he didn't really know what to do with his frustrations. His discontentment in their disconnection from each other, simply over the fact that they could not have a baby, was rather striking. When had he ever felt so angry or upset over anything, especially if it had to do with his wives?
He couldn't remember ever feeling even the slightest bit of resentful toward either of them, nor had he ever truly faulted them for being unable to give him what he wanted. Because there was always that thought in the back of his mind that the problem could have been him. It likely was him. Maybe it was he who could not give children. At least not children that would ever remain viable in any sense of the word. That was what made his anger and frustration toward his wife so striking.
None of this was truly her fault, but at the same time, it was. It was because they had been married for over ten years and they had not given birth to a single heir. It was because no matter how hard they tried, how delicately they cared for Tanishe, or how hard he fought to keep what he was grasping so desperately for, Tanishe was always involved. Hasani struggled deeply and silently with these dark thoughts, chastising himself for being so simultaneously cruel and rude to the love of his life when she likely needed his love and tenderness instead. But he just... he couldn't drum it up.
Hasani felt the absence of her hand in his when he had offered it to Tanishe and it had been so quietly rejected. The leier was more than sure it was do to with his mood, but it was rare that either of them ever had such quiet solitude in one another's company. It was true, even a couple so in love as the two of them had inclinations to fight one another, but those fights were often so far removed from the next. No, Hasani's own behavior had put this wedge between them. His own bitterness was making Tanishe weary and unwilling to remain in his presence.
That alone was more staggering than the loss of yet another child.
His mind drifted back to the one child that the two of them had been most hopeful for. The one that had gone the farthest, only for it to be lost due to sustained thirst and dehydration. But their unborn child had not been the only one that had been lost on the sands. Hasani had to bite the inside of his cheek as he almost violently shoved the memories of his biggest failure as leier to the back of his mind. Perhaps he had failed as a leader once, but he would not fail as a husband now.
Watching Tanishe haul herself up the rocks, he waited patiently until she was settled at the cave entrance. Then, following her lead, he pulled himself up the stone after her. He quietly marveled at the coolness of the rock under his hand, knowing that the cave they were to enter would likely be much cooler than the air of the port. Instead of being entirely stifling, it would be welcoming and enjoyable. A much needed change to the stuffiness of the port with so many people packed together to avoid the sandstorm.
He was only sad that he was not forthright enough to impress his help upon his wife. Now that he felt a modicum of guilt, he just wanted to be close to her, whether deliberately or accidentally. Mostly deliberately. Dark, cool spaces only brought on silent desires for a moment alone. One in which neither would lose breath due to heat or humidity, but also one in which they couldn't be interrupted from by way of one of their tribe members. Following close enough behind her that Hasani could have touched Tanishe, the man did not so much as brush against her. Yet. He wanted to ensure that they both made it into the cave safely, so when he watched Tanishe jump down into the darkness, he was momentarily stalled with fears that she might have hurt herself.
Honestly, how did he go from unyieldingly angry to worried and needing adulation in such a short span of time? Admittedly, all Hasani wanted for the two of them was happiness, which he was free to give so long as he stopped acting like a dick anytime Tanishe lost a child. It was not truly her fault, he knew, but his mood always suffered from that loss of hope.
Hasani was just going to look on the bright side from now on.
Peering into the darkness, Tanishe's soft comment about leopards told Hasani that she had made it down into the cave alright. Hasani, like Neena, did not hesitate to follow his wife. He landed close to her and was not surprised to initially feel her back brush against his chest as she leaned down to busy herself with the torches. Hasani found his gaze wandering the pitch darkness, finding it to be much unlike the desert. The brightness of the moon and stars seemed to light up the entire expanse of sand and dunes. Here, the inky black was like something out of a nightmare if the two of them did not realize that they were very much stuck in reality.
Taking his torch from his wife, he seemed to breath a small sigh of relief when she lit the torch for him and he peacefully offered her his own to light hers. Together, they were no longer just two specks in the darkness. They were two suns penetrating the shadows and there was something so... calming about that. As of that moment, Hasani found that his need to rush was now non-existant. He was in no hurry. The cave was cool and the darkness, though oppressive, was more peaceful with the addition of fire.
They walked together for a time, and Hasani found himself not so saddened by the fact that they did not find fungus so close to the ground, though Hasani did wonder if any of the substance was going to be low toward the ground or if it would all be found on the ceiling of the cave. Tanishe seemed to discount the bits on the ceiling, and Hasani followed her faithfully, his once sour mood shifted to one of complete curiosity and desire to do something he hadn't done since he as a child: explore.
So he let his gaze explore, trailing across smooth stone and then observing the soft, loamy dirt underfoot. He even stopped as Tanishe had and tested the dirt between his fingertips, finding himself pleased with the feeling of it. It was soft and comfortable and he found himself reaching out for Tanishe's wrist. Grasping it gently, he gazed up at her from the crouching position he had taken in the dirt. "Tanishe," he said in a tone that he only ever reserved for her. The softness of it, the affection behind it, was always genuine. "How about we sit for a moment?" he asked calmly.
Hasani was aware that she might protest, but he truly did want to sit and speak with her now that they had a moment alone. Surrounded by the many people of the tribe, sometimes it was much harder to have a conversation when everyone else was already vying for your attention. Here, Tanishe was the center of his, and the coolness of the cave was making him much more reasonable rather than bitingly angry. "I am sorry for my behavior," the man admitted without letting her go. Then he did let her go, turning his head to gaze about the cave from his position. Whether she sat or not did not bother him, but he wasn't ready to move on from this part of the cave just yet.
"I will admit that I had noticed and I had once more found myself... overly hopeful this time," Hasani said very slowly, reaching down into the dirt to thread his fingers through it. He marvelled at the texture between his fingers, humming slowly as he dropped one small handfull and picked up another. "That was my fault, Tanishe, not yours," he said gently, seeming more ashamed than anything right about then. Because he was. He felt guilty and like he was the worst husband for her. They had been trying for years, and it terrified him that she would never truly be claimed by him if she never bore a single child.
How would people speak of his wife once she had passed on to the ancestors years from now? What sadness would Hasani carry for his wife if they were never able to truiy be one another's? It was heartbreaking to think of how much love he would give her, only to be told that it had never been enough because they hadn't had an heir. Part of his frustration was because of this very fact. The fact that his claim on her was only half-baked, half of a claim, half of nothing. He wanted to be able to say that they could have a baby, that they had had a baby, and that Tanishe was a full-fledged claimed woman. But thus far, Hasani hadn't been able to give her even that.
"Can you forgive me, wife?" he asked slowly, "After all of these years and all of these failures, can you forgive me my one moment of anger as I lament to the gods what we have done to deserve such lives? Void of children, with no heirs to care for us when we are old or to take our places when we are gone? I truly, deeply wonder what it was that I have done to see us both punished in such a way. To watch you hope and then see you just carry on as if we did not lose another child... it might have frustrated me," Hasani said slowly, his brows knitting together in silent frustration with their situation. "I love you, Tanishe. Deeply and entirely, and I only want you to have everything you deserve and desire. Neither of us asked to be leier or leierin, neither of us asked for such difficulty providing heirs. My anger is not with you," Hasani finally said.
"Try as I might, I cannot help the anger and betrayal I feel toward our ancestors for guiding us into our positions while simultaneously keeping us separate," the leier breathed out sharply through his nose. "But I have said it time and time again... we do not need a child to be happy. As happy as it would make me, I would not see our marriage and our relationship ruined because I got it into my head that a child was an end all to be all," Hasani did not often say so much, but he found it hard not to. He needed to explain himself. His frustrations that he rarely voiced in the presence of anyone. Part of him wondered if he should go to Mwenye for guidance, but the man had little experience when it came to relationships, and Hasani didn't exactly know what it was he was looking for guidance on. It was hard to ask questions when you didn't even know what you wanted or needed to ask.
So he would continue to ask the ancestors one silent question. Why. Why did they see it so fitting to punish them? Or were they not being punished at all, and instead tested? What if they were never meant to have children in the first place? Hasani made a face at those thoughts, not sure if they held any weight at all. Instead, he glanced back up at his wife, trying to guage her reaction silently. He half expected her to just... walk away from him after how much of an asshole he had acted prior to making it into the cave.
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It was the distance that Tanishe put between the two of them, subtly and without true malice, that caught Hasani's attention. It was an unusual formation of distance between them. It was entirely rare that Hasani was in a black mood at all, but he didn't really know what to do with his frustrations. His discontentment in their disconnection from each other, simply over the fact that they could not have a baby, was rather striking. When had he ever felt so angry or upset over anything, especially if it had to do with his wives?
He couldn't remember ever feeling even the slightest bit of resentful toward either of them, nor had he ever truly faulted them for being unable to give him what he wanted. Because there was always that thought in the back of his mind that the problem could have been him. It likely was him. Maybe it was he who could not give children. At least not children that would ever remain viable in any sense of the word. That was what made his anger and frustration toward his wife so striking.
None of this was truly her fault, but at the same time, it was. It was because they had been married for over ten years and they had not given birth to a single heir. It was because no matter how hard they tried, how delicately they cared for Tanishe, or how hard he fought to keep what he was grasping so desperately for, Tanishe was always involved. Hasani struggled deeply and silently with these dark thoughts, chastising himself for being so simultaneously cruel and rude to the love of his life when she likely needed his love and tenderness instead. But he just... he couldn't drum it up.
Hasani felt the absence of her hand in his when he had offered it to Tanishe and it had been so quietly rejected. The leier was more than sure it was do to with his mood, but it was rare that either of them ever had such quiet solitude in one another's company. It was true, even a couple so in love as the two of them had inclinations to fight one another, but those fights were often so far removed from the next. No, Hasani's own behavior had put this wedge between them. His own bitterness was making Tanishe weary and unwilling to remain in his presence.
That alone was more staggering than the loss of yet another child.
His mind drifted back to the one child that the two of them had been most hopeful for. The one that had gone the farthest, only for it to be lost due to sustained thirst and dehydration. But their unborn child had not been the only one that had been lost on the sands. Hasani had to bite the inside of his cheek as he almost violently shoved the memories of his biggest failure as leier to the back of his mind. Perhaps he had failed as a leader once, but he would not fail as a husband now.
Watching Tanishe haul herself up the rocks, he waited patiently until she was settled at the cave entrance. Then, following her lead, he pulled himself up the stone after her. He quietly marveled at the coolness of the rock under his hand, knowing that the cave they were to enter would likely be much cooler than the air of the port. Instead of being entirely stifling, it would be welcoming and enjoyable. A much needed change to the stuffiness of the port with so many people packed together to avoid the sandstorm.
He was only sad that he was not forthright enough to impress his help upon his wife. Now that he felt a modicum of guilt, he just wanted to be close to her, whether deliberately or accidentally. Mostly deliberately. Dark, cool spaces only brought on silent desires for a moment alone. One in which neither would lose breath due to heat or humidity, but also one in which they couldn't be interrupted from by way of one of their tribe members. Following close enough behind her that Hasani could have touched Tanishe, the man did not so much as brush against her. Yet. He wanted to ensure that they both made it into the cave safely, so when he watched Tanishe jump down into the darkness, he was momentarily stalled with fears that she might have hurt herself.
Honestly, how did he go from unyieldingly angry to worried and needing adulation in such a short span of time? Admittedly, all Hasani wanted for the two of them was happiness, which he was free to give so long as he stopped acting like a dick anytime Tanishe lost a child. It was not truly her fault, he knew, but his mood always suffered from that loss of hope.
Hasani was just going to look on the bright side from now on.
Peering into the darkness, Tanishe's soft comment about leopards told Hasani that she had made it down into the cave alright. Hasani, like Neena, did not hesitate to follow his wife. He landed close to her and was not surprised to initially feel her back brush against his chest as she leaned down to busy herself with the torches. Hasani found his gaze wandering the pitch darkness, finding it to be much unlike the desert. The brightness of the moon and stars seemed to light up the entire expanse of sand and dunes. Here, the inky black was like something out of a nightmare if the two of them did not realize that they were very much stuck in reality.
Taking his torch from his wife, he seemed to breath a small sigh of relief when she lit the torch for him and he peacefully offered her his own to light hers. Together, they were no longer just two specks in the darkness. They were two suns penetrating the shadows and there was something so... calming about that. As of that moment, Hasani found that his need to rush was now non-existant. He was in no hurry. The cave was cool and the darkness, though oppressive, was more peaceful with the addition of fire.
They walked together for a time, and Hasani found himself not so saddened by the fact that they did not find fungus so close to the ground, though Hasani did wonder if any of the substance was going to be low toward the ground or if it would all be found on the ceiling of the cave. Tanishe seemed to discount the bits on the ceiling, and Hasani followed her faithfully, his once sour mood shifted to one of complete curiosity and desire to do something he hadn't done since he as a child: explore.
So he let his gaze explore, trailing across smooth stone and then observing the soft, loamy dirt underfoot. He even stopped as Tanishe had and tested the dirt between his fingertips, finding himself pleased with the feeling of it. It was soft and comfortable and he found himself reaching out for Tanishe's wrist. Grasping it gently, he gazed up at her from the crouching position he had taken in the dirt. "Tanishe," he said in a tone that he only ever reserved for her. The softness of it, the affection behind it, was always genuine. "How about we sit for a moment?" he asked calmly.
Hasani was aware that she might protest, but he truly did want to sit and speak with her now that they had a moment alone. Surrounded by the many people of the tribe, sometimes it was much harder to have a conversation when everyone else was already vying for your attention. Here, Tanishe was the center of his, and the coolness of the cave was making him much more reasonable rather than bitingly angry. "I am sorry for my behavior," the man admitted without letting her go. Then he did let her go, turning his head to gaze about the cave from his position. Whether she sat or not did not bother him, but he wasn't ready to move on from this part of the cave just yet.
"I will admit that I had noticed and I had once more found myself... overly hopeful this time," Hasani said very slowly, reaching down into the dirt to thread his fingers through it. He marvelled at the texture between his fingers, humming slowly as he dropped one small handfull and picked up another. "That was my fault, Tanishe, not yours," he said gently, seeming more ashamed than anything right about then. Because he was. He felt guilty and like he was the worst husband for her. They had been trying for years, and it terrified him that she would never truly be claimed by him if she never bore a single child.
How would people speak of his wife once she had passed on to the ancestors years from now? What sadness would Hasani carry for his wife if they were never able to truiy be one another's? It was heartbreaking to think of how much love he would give her, only to be told that it had never been enough because they hadn't had an heir. Part of his frustration was because of this very fact. The fact that his claim on her was only half-baked, half of a claim, half of nothing. He wanted to be able to say that they could have a baby, that they had had a baby, and that Tanishe was a full-fledged claimed woman. But thus far, Hasani hadn't been able to give her even that.
"Can you forgive me, wife?" he asked slowly, "After all of these years and all of these failures, can you forgive me my one moment of anger as I lament to the gods what we have done to deserve such lives? Void of children, with no heirs to care for us when we are old or to take our places when we are gone? I truly, deeply wonder what it was that I have done to see us both punished in such a way. To watch you hope and then see you just carry on as if we did not lose another child... it might have frustrated me," Hasani said slowly, his brows knitting together in silent frustration with their situation. "I love you, Tanishe. Deeply and entirely, and I only want you to have everything you deserve and desire. Neither of us asked to be leier or leierin, neither of us asked for such difficulty providing heirs. My anger is not with you," Hasani finally said.
"Try as I might, I cannot help the anger and betrayal I feel toward our ancestors for guiding us into our positions while simultaneously keeping us separate," the leier breathed out sharply through his nose. "But I have said it time and time again... we do not need a child to be happy. As happy as it would make me, I would not see our marriage and our relationship ruined because I got it into my head that a child was an end all to be all," Hasani did not often say so much, but he found it hard not to. He needed to explain himself. His frustrations that he rarely voiced in the presence of anyone. Part of him wondered if he should go to Mwenye for guidance, but the man had little experience when it came to relationships, and Hasani didn't exactly know what it was he was looking for guidance on. It was hard to ask questions when you didn't even know what you wanted or needed to ask.
So he would continue to ask the ancestors one silent question. Why. Why did they see it so fitting to punish them? Or were they not being punished at all, and instead tested? What if they were never meant to have children in the first place? Hasani made a face at those thoughts, not sure if they held any weight at all. Instead, he glanced back up at his wife, trying to guage her reaction silently. He half expected her to just... walk away from him after how much of an asshole he had acted prior to making it into the cave.
It was the distance that Tanishe put between the two of them, subtly and without true malice, that caught Hasani's attention. It was an unusual formation of distance between them. It was entirely rare that Hasani was in a black mood at all, but he didn't really know what to do with his frustrations. His discontentment in their disconnection from each other, simply over the fact that they could not have a baby, was rather striking. When had he ever felt so angry or upset over anything, especially if it had to do with his wives?
He couldn't remember ever feeling even the slightest bit of resentful toward either of them, nor had he ever truly faulted them for being unable to give him what he wanted. Because there was always that thought in the back of his mind that the problem could have been him. It likely was him. Maybe it was he who could not give children. At least not children that would ever remain viable in any sense of the word. That was what made his anger and frustration toward his wife so striking.
None of this was truly her fault, but at the same time, it was. It was because they had been married for over ten years and they had not given birth to a single heir. It was because no matter how hard they tried, how delicately they cared for Tanishe, or how hard he fought to keep what he was grasping so desperately for, Tanishe was always involved. Hasani struggled deeply and silently with these dark thoughts, chastising himself for being so simultaneously cruel and rude to the love of his life when she likely needed his love and tenderness instead. But he just... he couldn't drum it up.
Hasani felt the absence of her hand in his when he had offered it to Tanishe and it had been so quietly rejected. The leier was more than sure it was do to with his mood, but it was rare that either of them ever had such quiet solitude in one another's company. It was true, even a couple so in love as the two of them had inclinations to fight one another, but those fights were often so far removed from the next. No, Hasani's own behavior had put this wedge between them. His own bitterness was making Tanishe weary and unwilling to remain in his presence.
That alone was more staggering than the loss of yet another child.
His mind drifted back to the one child that the two of them had been most hopeful for. The one that had gone the farthest, only for it to be lost due to sustained thirst and dehydration. But their unborn child had not been the only one that had been lost on the sands. Hasani had to bite the inside of his cheek as he almost violently shoved the memories of his biggest failure as leier to the back of his mind. Perhaps he had failed as a leader once, but he would not fail as a husband now.
Watching Tanishe haul herself up the rocks, he waited patiently until she was settled at the cave entrance. Then, following her lead, he pulled himself up the stone after her. He quietly marveled at the coolness of the rock under his hand, knowing that the cave they were to enter would likely be much cooler than the air of the port. Instead of being entirely stifling, it would be welcoming and enjoyable. A much needed change to the stuffiness of the port with so many people packed together to avoid the sandstorm.
He was only sad that he was not forthright enough to impress his help upon his wife. Now that he felt a modicum of guilt, he just wanted to be close to her, whether deliberately or accidentally. Mostly deliberately. Dark, cool spaces only brought on silent desires for a moment alone. One in which neither would lose breath due to heat or humidity, but also one in which they couldn't be interrupted from by way of one of their tribe members. Following close enough behind her that Hasani could have touched Tanishe, the man did not so much as brush against her. Yet. He wanted to ensure that they both made it into the cave safely, so when he watched Tanishe jump down into the darkness, he was momentarily stalled with fears that she might have hurt herself.
Honestly, how did he go from unyieldingly angry to worried and needing adulation in such a short span of time? Admittedly, all Hasani wanted for the two of them was happiness, which he was free to give so long as he stopped acting like a dick anytime Tanishe lost a child. It was not truly her fault, he knew, but his mood always suffered from that loss of hope.
Hasani was just going to look on the bright side from now on.
Peering into the darkness, Tanishe's soft comment about leopards told Hasani that she had made it down into the cave alright. Hasani, like Neena, did not hesitate to follow his wife. He landed close to her and was not surprised to initially feel her back brush against his chest as she leaned down to busy herself with the torches. Hasani found his gaze wandering the pitch darkness, finding it to be much unlike the desert. The brightness of the moon and stars seemed to light up the entire expanse of sand and dunes. Here, the inky black was like something out of a nightmare if the two of them did not realize that they were very much stuck in reality.
Taking his torch from his wife, he seemed to breath a small sigh of relief when she lit the torch for him and he peacefully offered her his own to light hers. Together, they were no longer just two specks in the darkness. They were two suns penetrating the shadows and there was something so... calming about that. As of that moment, Hasani found that his need to rush was now non-existant. He was in no hurry. The cave was cool and the darkness, though oppressive, was more peaceful with the addition of fire.
They walked together for a time, and Hasani found himself not so saddened by the fact that they did not find fungus so close to the ground, though Hasani did wonder if any of the substance was going to be low toward the ground or if it would all be found on the ceiling of the cave. Tanishe seemed to discount the bits on the ceiling, and Hasani followed her faithfully, his once sour mood shifted to one of complete curiosity and desire to do something he hadn't done since he as a child: explore.
So he let his gaze explore, trailing across smooth stone and then observing the soft, loamy dirt underfoot. He even stopped as Tanishe had and tested the dirt between his fingertips, finding himself pleased with the feeling of it. It was soft and comfortable and he found himself reaching out for Tanishe's wrist. Grasping it gently, he gazed up at her from the crouching position he had taken in the dirt. "Tanishe," he said in a tone that he only ever reserved for her. The softness of it, the affection behind it, was always genuine. "How about we sit for a moment?" he asked calmly.
Hasani was aware that she might protest, but he truly did want to sit and speak with her now that they had a moment alone. Surrounded by the many people of the tribe, sometimes it was much harder to have a conversation when everyone else was already vying for your attention. Here, Tanishe was the center of his, and the coolness of the cave was making him much more reasonable rather than bitingly angry. "I am sorry for my behavior," the man admitted without letting her go. Then he did let her go, turning his head to gaze about the cave from his position. Whether she sat or not did not bother him, but he wasn't ready to move on from this part of the cave just yet.
"I will admit that I had noticed and I had once more found myself... overly hopeful this time," Hasani said very slowly, reaching down into the dirt to thread his fingers through it. He marvelled at the texture between his fingers, humming slowly as he dropped one small handfull and picked up another. "That was my fault, Tanishe, not yours," he said gently, seeming more ashamed than anything right about then. Because he was. He felt guilty and like he was the worst husband for her. They had been trying for years, and it terrified him that she would never truly be claimed by him if she never bore a single child.
How would people speak of his wife once she had passed on to the ancestors years from now? What sadness would Hasani carry for his wife if they were never able to truiy be one another's? It was heartbreaking to think of how much love he would give her, only to be told that it had never been enough because they hadn't had an heir. Part of his frustration was because of this very fact. The fact that his claim on her was only half-baked, half of a claim, half of nothing. He wanted to be able to say that they could have a baby, that they had had a baby, and that Tanishe was a full-fledged claimed woman. But thus far, Hasani hadn't been able to give her even that.
"Can you forgive me, wife?" he asked slowly, "After all of these years and all of these failures, can you forgive me my one moment of anger as I lament to the gods what we have done to deserve such lives? Void of children, with no heirs to care for us when we are old or to take our places when we are gone? I truly, deeply wonder what it was that I have done to see us both punished in such a way. To watch you hope and then see you just carry on as if we did not lose another child... it might have frustrated me," Hasani said slowly, his brows knitting together in silent frustration with their situation. "I love you, Tanishe. Deeply and entirely, and I only want you to have everything you deserve and desire. Neither of us asked to be leier or leierin, neither of us asked for such difficulty providing heirs. My anger is not with you," Hasani finally said.
"Try as I might, I cannot help the anger and betrayal I feel toward our ancestors for guiding us into our positions while simultaneously keeping us separate," the leier breathed out sharply through his nose. "But I have said it time and time again... we do not need a child to be happy. As happy as it would make me, I would not see our marriage and our relationship ruined because I got it into my head that a child was an end all to be all," Hasani did not often say so much, but he found it hard not to. He needed to explain himself. His frustrations that he rarely voiced in the presence of anyone. Part of him wondered if he should go to Mwenye for guidance, but the man had little experience when it came to relationships, and Hasani didn't exactly know what it was he was looking for guidance on. It was hard to ask questions when you didn't even know what you wanted or needed to ask.
So he would continue to ask the ancestors one silent question. Why. Why did they see it so fitting to punish them? Or were they not being punished at all, and instead tested? What if they were never meant to have children in the first place? Hasani made a face at those thoughts, not sure if they held any weight at all. Instead, he glanced back up at his wife, trying to guage her reaction silently. He half expected her to just... walk away from him after how much of an asshole he had acted prior to making it into the cave.
Being completely surrounded on all sides by stone, totally enclosed within the womb of the earth was an experience that Tanishe really and truly loved. Because of the Bedoan lifestyle and where they lived, their paths traditionally took them over long stretches of savanna. She was well acquainted with the seas of swaying grasses and their whispering songs. At night, with the black sky glittering with stars, it was such a beautiful thing to behold. Beyond the savannas lay the gorgeous stretches of undulating desert, culminating in seemingly endless dunes. Tanishe did not like crossing the dunes. Climbing the steep mountains of sand was difficult and took quite a long time. They usually had to go around and find ways along the troughs, making a meandering path. But she liked to stand on the hard packed earth that edged the dunes and look at their pleasing shapes. From a distance, all dunes were smooth and peaceful, like clusters of eggs in a nest. It was more the view she liked than the actual journey. But it was not so in a cave, or more specifically, this cave.
Out in the surface of the earth, the air was dry. It carried scents of grasses and sand, of camel and human, of things unnamed. Sometimes it held the sweetness of baking bread or the tang of crushed herbs. In here, where the walls were smooth as though water had coursed through this place long ago, the air was wet. Its quality was entirely foreign. The coolness held an undertone of humidity that held a special, magical property to it, to someone like Tanishe, who spent so much time chasing rain. Under the sun, she could expect her mouth to be dry from dust and want of liquid. In here, she imagined that if she stuck out her tongue, she could collect moisture from the very air and live forever.
When she crouched down, testing the dirt, she was almost surprised to find it dry. It was cool to the touch and the powder so incredibly fine that it would take someone grinding flour in a bowl an hour or more to get the grains to this level. In the light of the torch, she watched the red earth staining her fingertips in an exquisite shade of she’d never seen someone replicate. Her mind wandered to questions of how the cave’s floor had come to be covered with this sort of fine powder. Had people been here before? Sweeping her torch along the ground, she could see no prints but their own. No clear ones, at least. There were a few paw prints but it was impossible to tell when the animal had been here and what kind it was. Whatever the species, it wasn’t overly large and didn’t look like some sort of cat, which was all that mattered to her. So long as they weren’t hunted, she didn’t mind sharing the cave. Though, as she paused, she couldn’t hear a single sound that she couldn’t immediately identify.
Her heart thumped slowly, rhythmically inside her chest. The breaths she took felt loud but only because there was an absolute lack of sound. The torch in her hand crackled and snapped as the flame danced, slowly consuming the end of the stick. Her own steps, soft in the dirt, were paired with those of her husband as he walked along behind her. She could pick out his breathing and fancied she heard the beating of his heart, but beyond these things, there was nothing. Nothing but the distant, unseen drip of water pinging into a larger pool, echoing and inconstant. No animal. Whatever had been here before must be either gone or dead. That made her assume that the way they’d come in was the way they would have to go out and she wished they’d brought a rope of some kind. Though Tanishe did not explore caves often, there were stories that were sometimes told around the campfires of tribe members, long dead, having gone missing in caves, never to be seen again. It was either because they’d reached some sort of spirit world and were accepted into it, or that they’d simply died somewhere in the cave where no one would ever find them. That thought was singularly horrible.
"Tanishe." The abrupt shattering of the silence, paired with Hasani’s hand curling around her wrist made her jump. She swung around to look at him and found him asking her to sit. He pulled on her and even though she didn’t want to, she sat with him. At first, she thought perhaps she would crouch at his side and save the fabric of her kaftan, but then she realized that even crouching would be dusting the hem of her clothes straight into the staining earth. Without much fanfare, she settled next to Hasani, placing most of her weight on one hip, one leg tucked beneath the other.
Her eyes wandered away from him and up to the blinding torchlight in her hand. It was more pleasant to watch the flickering translucent flames than the handsome profile of someone who was angry with her over something she could not change. Something she would have changed if given any hint of ability. He didn’t seem to need her to look at him but there was a stretch of silence between them while he gathered his thoughts. She would not be the first to break it. Though she did not think that she was actively angry at him, she felt nothing for him at the moment, which was unusual. Perhaps, perhaps that wasn’t true. She did feel like she didn’t want to be touched and she looked down at his hand that formed a physical connection between them. This might have been what finally prompted him to speak, to apologize. She looked at him as he did so.
She didn’t answer him and he let go, looking away toward the dirt, teasing it with his fingers. Hasani went on to admit that he’d noticed both her pregnancy and that he’d grown hopeful this time. Like he didn’t every single time she told him. It was why she’d tried to conceal this one - so that this wouldn’t happen. If anyone wanted a child as much or more than she did, it was her husband. The familiar ache in her chest curled up inside her and she didn’t trust her own voice, choosing not to break her silence while he continued speaking, claiming the fault to be his. That confused her for a moment. What fault? The loss of the pregnancy? No, that didn’t make sense and she decided he’d meant his attitude toward the entire thing. The anger he harbored and occasionally released at times she wasn’t prepared for.
Comforting things were right on the tip of her tongue. Things that would release him of responsibility: it wasn’t his fault, it was hers. She was the one who couldn’t seem to carry a child. Or, no, he was right to be angry. As a wife, she should be able to gift him with children. Or even that she understood why he was upset...but she didn’t voice these things because they’d talked about them before. Endlessly, it seemed and she was tired of saying them. Tired of feeling worthless as a woman. Aside from the loss of the baby, she just...didn’t feel like being sorry anymore.
"Can you forgive me, wife?" His voice prompted her to look back at him, away from the shadows flinging themselves up along the walls. "After all of these years and all of these failures, can you forgive me my one moment of anger as I lament to the gods what we have done to deserve such lives?” He went on speaking, but she’d stopped listening. She was stuck on a particular phrase: ‘what we have done to deserve such lives’. She looked away, lowering the torch and letting it rest on the ground. It flickered in a half sphere beside her, the only thing in this cave offering heat. Her brows drew together and she frowned. ‘Deserved’. The word didn’t ring true. The answer was nothing. She’d done nothing to deserve being childless. In a rare moment of internal rebellion, she felt the ache in her chest sour and collapse into anger. Her mouth twisted, lips curling downwards, jaw tightening. Perhaps her husband had done something. She did not know, but as much as she could think on her own life, her own deeds, her own dedication to the healing of other people, she couldn’t recall a single moment that stood out as ‘deserving’ of being robbed of a much desired bright spot.
It was as he said that he loved her that she finally looked back at him. The shadows of the torch beside her plunged the features of her face into shadow when she faced him and she hoped that the darkness was hiding her flare of fury. She both did and did not feel that this was her fault. No matter what she did, no matter how careful, the blood always came and the child was lost. Even Neena had never managed a baby. The more Hasani spoke, the more conflicted Tanishe became, growing agitated enough to stand. She picked up the torch, half listening to his earnest speech that both proclaimed how much he loved her, wanted what was best for both of them, but kept circling back around to somehow the two of them were at fault.
As much as she wanted to shout in frustration, she could not bring herself to do it. Words once spoken were words that could not be taken back. Instead of telling him what she wanted to, that this wasn’t her fault, that she didn’t like his anger, and resented it when he was upset with her, she didn’t. She swallowed back down that bitter poison that would have unleashed itself upon him. As strong has her husband was physically, and as mentally capable as he’d proved himself to be, he was a sensitive man. She did not think he had what it would take to handle her own truly vile emotions. Whatever she said in the heat of anger would weigh on him like a wet blanket. The coldness of it would seep into his very bones, drench his spirit, and he would not be able to let it go. As upset as she was, she couldn’t and wouldn’t do that to him. So she kept it silent.
“I forgive you,” was what came out of her mouth. The words weren’t tense. They were controlled and even, almost her usual soft tone. “Let us move on, Hasani. I do not like it right here.” To further make that point, she patted her backside, sending spirals of red dust into the darkness. With considerable effort, she forced the ill will from her being. It felt toxic to hang onto anger and she didn’t want it. She didn’t want to walk through this cave, with Hasani following along behind her, carrying feelings of anger and disgust. That wasn’t who she was and she would let this go completely. With the words of forgiveness passing between her lips, she had released her own upset. She did forgive him. That wasn’t the same as allowing him to continue to hurt her by speaking on this topic and a change of location would likely shake him from it.
“We do not have the whole day,” she reminded him once as much of the dirt was off her kaftan as possible. “This way.” It was rare that she led the way in anything, but right now, she couldn’t stand to stay where they were. With careful steps, she led the way across a natural stone arch that crossed a deep, horribly dark hole in the earth. She didn’t crouch, but she did bend just a little, holding her torch down to see if the bottom was visible. Cold air rushed up and she leaned back, shuddering at the thought of falling. Her shoulders relaxed once she was on solid ground on the other side.
“Let us keep going,” she said, flashing the torch briefly around the rock they’d come to. There was no soft, white, foamy substance. “Perhaps there is more further on.”
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Being completely surrounded on all sides by stone, totally enclosed within the womb of the earth was an experience that Tanishe really and truly loved. Because of the Bedoan lifestyle and where they lived, their paths traditionally took them over long stretches of savanna. She was well acquainted with the seas of swaying grasses and their whispering songs. At night, with the black sky glittering with stars, it was such a beautiful thing to behold. Beyond the savannas lay the gorgeous stretches of undulating desert, culminating in seemingly endless dunes. Tanishe did not like crossing the dunes. Climbing the steep mountains of sand was difficult and took quite a long time. They usually had to go around and find ways along the troughs, making a meandering path. But she liked to stand on the hard packed earth that edged the dunes and look at their pleasing shapes. From a distance, all dunes were smooth and peaceful, like clusters of eggs in a nest. It was more the view she liked than the actual journey. But it was not so in a cave, or more specifically, this cave.
Out in the surface of the earth, the air was dry. It carried scents of grasses and sand, of camel and human, of things unnamed. Sometimes it held the sweetness of baking bread or the tang of crushed herbs. In here, where the walls were smooth as though water had coursed through this place long ago, the air was wet. Its quality was entirely foreign. The coolness held an undertone of humidity that held a special, magical property to it, to someone like Tanishe, who spent so much time chasing rain. Under the sun, she could expect her mouth to be dry from dust and want of liquid. In here, she imagined that if she stuck out her tongue, she could collect moisture from the very air and live forever.
When she crouched down, testing the dirt, she was almost surprised to find it dry. It was cool to the touch and the powder so incredibly fine that it would take someone grinding flour in a bowl an hour or more to get the grains to this level. In the light of the torch, she watched the red earth staining her fingertips in an exquisite shade of she’d never seen someone replicate. Her mind wandered to questions of how the cave’s floor had come to be covered with this sort of fine powder. Had people been here before? Sweeping her torch along the ground, she could see no prints but their own. No clear ones, at least. There were a few paw prints but it was impossible to tell when the animal had been here and what kind it was. Whatever the species, it wasn’t overly large and didn’t look like some sort of cat, which was all that mattered to her. So long as they weren’t hunted, she didn’t mind sharing the cave. Though, as she paused, she couldn’t hear a single sound that she couldn’t immediately identify.
Her heart thumped slowly, rhythmically inside her chest. The breaths she took felt loud but only because there was an absolute lack of sound. The torch in her hand crackled and snapped as the flame danced, slowly consuming the end of the stick. Her own steps, soft in the dirt, were paired with those of her husband as he walked along behind her. She could pick out his breathing and fancied she heard the beating of his heart, but beyond these things, there was nothing. Nothing but the distant, unseen drip of water pinging into a larger pool, echoing and inconstant. No animal. Whatever had been here before must be either gone or dead. That made her assume that the way they’d come in was the way they would have to go out and she wished they’d brought a rope of some kind. Though Tanishe did not explore caves often, there were stories that were sometimes told around the campfires of tribe members, long dead, having gone missing in caves, never to be seen again. It was either because they’d reached some sort of spirit world and were accepted into it, or that they’d simply died somewhere in the cave where no one would ever find them. That thought was singularly horrible.
"Tanishe." The abrupt shattering of the silence, paired with Hasani’s hand curling around her wrist made her jump. She swung around to look at him and found him asking her to sit. He pulled on her and even though she didn’t want to, she sat with him. At first, she thought perhaps she would crouch at his side and save the fabric of her kaftan, but then she realized that even crouching would be dusting the hem of her clothes straight into the staining earth. Without much fanfare, she settled next to Hasani, placing most of her weight on one hip, one leg tucked beneath the other.
Her eyes wandered away from him and up to the blinding torchlight in her hand. It was more pleasant to watch the flickering translucent flames than the handsome profile of someone who was angry with her over something she could not change. Something she would have changed if given any hint of ability. He didn’t seem to need her to look at him but there was a stretch of silence between them while he gathered his thoughts. She would not be the first to break it. Though she did not think that she was actively angry at him, she felt nothing for him at the moment, which was unusual. Perhaps, perhaps that wasn’t true. She did feel like she didn’t want to be touched and she looked down at his hand that formed a physical connection between them. This might have been what finally prompted him to speak, to apologize. She looked at him as he did so.
She didn’t answer him and he let go, looking away toward the dirt, teasing it with his fingers. Hasani went on to admit that he’d noticed both her pregnancy and that he’d grown hopeful this time. Like he didn’t every single time she told him. It was why she’d tried to conceal this one - so that this wouldn’t happen. If anyone wanted a child as much or more than she did, it was her husband. The familiar ache in her chest curled up inside her and she didn’t trust her own voice, choosing not to break her silence while he continued speaking, claiming the fault to be his. That confused her for a moment. What fault? The loss of the pregnancy? No, that didn’t make sense and she decided he’d meant his attitude toward the entire thing. The anger he harbored and occasionally released at times she wasn’t prepared for.
Comforting things were right on the tip of her tongue. Things that would release him of responsibility: it wasn’t his fault, it was hers. She was the one who couldn’t seem to carry a child. Or, no, he was right to be angry. As a wife, she should be able to gift him with children. Or even that she understood why he was upset...but she didn’t voice these things because they’d talked about them before. Endlessly, it seemed and she was tired of saying them. Tired of feeling worthless as a woman. Aside from the loss of the baby, she just...didn’t feel like being sorry anymore.
"Can you forgive me, wife?" His voice prompted her to look back at him, away from the shadows flinging themselves up along the walls. "After all of these years and all of these failures, can you forgive me my one moment of anger as I lament to the gods what we have done to deserve such lives?” He went on speaking, but she’d stopped listening. She was stuck on a particular phrase: ‘what we have done to deserve such lives’. She looked away, lowering the torch and letting it rest on the ground. It flickered in a half sphere beside her, the only thing in this cave offering heat. Her brows drew together and she frowned. ‘Deserved’. The word didn’t ring true. The answer was nothing. She’d done nothing to deserve being childless. In a rare moment of internal rebellion, she felt the ache in her chest sour and collapse into anger. Her mouth twisted, lips curling downwards, jaw tightening. Perhaps her husband had done something. She did not know, but as much as she could think on her own life, her own deeds, her own dedication to the healing of other people, she couldn’t recall a single moment that stood out as ‘deserving’ of being robbed of a much desired bright spot.
It was as he said that he loved her that she finally looked back at him. The shadows of the torch beside her plunged the features of her face into shadow when she faced him and she hoped that the darkness was hiding her flare of fury. She both did and did not feel that this was her fault. No matter what she did, no matter how careful, the blood always came and the child was lost. Even Neena had never managed a baby. The more Hasani spoke, the more conflicted Tanishe became, growing agitated enough to stand. She picked up the torch, half listening to his earnest speech that both proclaimed how much he loved her, wanted what was best for both of them, but kept circling back around to somehow the two of them were at fault.
As much as she wanted to shout in frustration, she could not bring herself to do it. Words once spoken were words that could not be taken back. Instead of telling him what she wanted to, that this wasn’t her fault, that she didn’t like his anger, and resented it when he was upset with her, she didn’t. She swallowed back down that bitter poison that would have unleashed itself upon him. As strong has her husband was physically, and as mentally capable as he’d proved himself to be, he was a sensitive man. She did not think he had what it would take to handle her own truly vile emotions. Whatever she said in the heat of anger would weigh on him like a wet blanket. The coldness of it would seep into his very bones, drench his spirit, and he would not be able to let it go. As upset as she was, she couldn’t and wouldn’t do that to him. So she kept it silent.
“I forgive you,” was what came out of her mouth. The words weren’t tense. They were controlled and even, almost her usual soft tone. “Let us move on, Hasani. I do not like it right here.” To further make that point, she patted her backside, sending spirals of red dust into the darkness. With considerable effort, she forced the ill will from her being. It felt toxic to hang onto anger and she didn’t want it. She didn’t want to walk through this cave, with Hasani following along behind her, carrying feelings of anger and disgust. That wasn’t who she was and she would let this go completely. With the words of forgiveness passing between her lips, she had released her own upset. She did forgive him. That wasn’t the same as allowing him to continue to hurt her by speaking on this topic and a change of location would likely shake him from it.
“We do not have the whole day,” she reminded him once as much of the dirt was off her kaftan as possible. “This way.” It was rare that she led the way in anything, but right now, she couldn’t stand to stay where they were. With careful steps, she led the way across a natural stone arch that crossed a deep, horribly dark hole in the earth. She didn’t crouch, but she did bend just a little, holding her torch down to see if the bottom was visible. Cold air rushed up and she leaned back, shuddering at the thought of falling. Her shoulders relaxed once she was on solid ground on the other side.
“Let us keep going,” she said, flashing the torch briefly around the rock they’d come to. There was no soft, white, foamy substance. “Perhaps there is more further on.”
Being completely surrounded on all sides by stone, totally enclosed within the womb of the earth was an experience that Tanishe really and truly loved. Because of the Bedoan lifestyle and where they lived, their paths traditionally took them over long stretches of savanna. She was well acquainted with the seas of swaying grasses and their whispering songs. At night, with the black sky glittering with stars, it was such a beautiful thing to behold. Beyond the savannas lay the gorgeous stretches of undulating desert, culminating in seemingly endless dunes. Tanishe did not like crossing the dunes. Climbing the steep mountains of sand was difficult and took quite a long time. They usually had to go around and find ways along the troughs, making a meandering path. But she liked to stand on the hard packed earth that edged the dunes and look at their pleasing shapes. From a distance, all dunes were smooth and peaceful, like clusters of eggs in a nest. It was more the view she liked than the actual journey. But it was not so in a cave, or more specifically, this cave.
Out in the surface of the earth, the air was dry. It carried scents of grasses and sand, of camel and human, of things unnamed. Sometimes it held the sweetness of baking bread or the tang of crushed herbs. In here, where the walls were smooth as though water had coursed through this place long ago, the air was wet. Its quality was entirely foreign. The coolness held an undertone of humidity that held a special, magical property to it, to someone like Tanishe, who spent so much time chasing rain. Under the sun, she could expect her mouth to be dry from dust and want of liquid. In here, she imagined that if she stuck out her tongue, she could collect moisture from the very air and live forever.
When she crouched down, testing the dirt, she was almost surprised to find it dry. It was cool to the touch and the powder so incredibly fine that it would take someone grinding flour in a bowl an hour or more to get the grains to this level. In the light of the torch, she watched the red earth staining her fingertips in an exquisite shade of she’d never seen someone replicate. Her mind wandered to questions of how the cave’s floor had come to be covered with this sort of fine powder. Had people been here before? Sweeping her torch along the ground, she could see no prints but their own. No clear ones, at least. There were a few paw prints but it was impossible to tell when the animal had been here and what kind it was. Whatever the species, it wasn’t overly large and didn’t look like some sort of cat, which was all that mattered to her. So long as they weren’t hunted, she didn’t mind sharing the cave. Though, as she paused, she couldn’t hear a single sound that she couldn’t immediately identify.
Her heart thumped slowly, rhythmically inside her chest. The breaths she took felt loud but only because there was an absolute lack of sound. The torch in her hand crackled and snapped as the flame danced, slowly consuming the end of the stick. Her own steps, soft in the dirt, were paired with those of her husband as he walked along behind her. She could pick out his breathing and fancied she heard the beating of his heart, but beyond these things, there was nothing. Nothing but the distant, unseen drip of water pinging into a larger pool, echoing and inconstant. No animal. Whatever had been here before must be either gone or dead. That made her assume that the way they’d come in was the way they would have to go out and she wished they’d brought a rope of some kind. Though Tanishe did not explore caves often, there were stories that were sometimes told around the campfires of tribe members, long dead, having gone missing in caves, never to be seen again. It was either because they’d reached some sort of spirit world and were accepted into it, or that they’d simply died somewhere in the cave where no one would ever find them. That thought was singularly horrible.
"Tanishe." The abrupt shattering of the silence, paired with Hasani’s hand curling around her wrist made her jump. She swung around to look at him and found him asking her to sit. He pulled on her and even though she didn’t want to, she sat with him. At first, she thought perhaps she would crouch at his side and save the fabric of her kaftan, but then she realized that even crouching would be dusting the hem of her clothes straight into the staining earth. Without much fanfare, she settled next to Hasani, placing most of her weight on one hip, one leg tucked beneath the other.
Her eyes wandered away from him and up to the blinding torchlight in her hand. It was more pleasant to watch the flickering translucent flames than the handsome profile of someone who was angry with her over something she could not change. Something she would have changed if given any hint of ability. He didn’t seem to need her to look at him but there was a stretch of silence between them while he gathered his thoughts. She would not be the first to break it. Though she did not think that she was actively angry at him, she felt nothing for him at the moment, which was unusual. Perhaps, perhaps that wasn’t true. She did feel like she didn’t want to be touched and she looked down at his hand that formed a physical connection between them. This might have been what finally prompted him to speak, to apologize. She looked at him as he did so.
She didn’t answer him and he let go, looking away toward the dirt, teasing it with his fingers. Hasani went on to admit that he’d noticed both her pregnancy and that he’d grown hopeful this time. Like he didn’t every single time she told him. It was why she’d tried to conceal this one - so that this wouldn’t happen. If anyone wanted a child as much or more than she did, it was her husband. The familiar ache in her chest curled up inside her and she didn’t trust her own voice, choosing not to break her silence while he continued speaking, claiming the fault to be his. That confused her for a moment. What fault? The loss of the pregnancy? No, that didn’t make sense and she decided he’d meant his attitude toward the entire thing. The anger he harbored and occasionally released at times she wasn’t prepared for.
Comforting things were right on the tip of her tongue. Things that would release him of responsibility: it wasn’t his fault, it was hers. She was the one who couldn’t seem to carry a child. Or, no, he was right to be angry. As a wife, she should be able to gift him with children. Or even that she understood why he was upset...but she didn’t voice these things because they’d talked about them before. Endlessly, it seemed and she was tired of saying them. Tired of feeling worthless as a woman. Aside from the loss of the baby, she just...didn’t feel like being sorry anymore.
"Can you forgive me, wife?" His voice prompted her to look back at him, away from the shadows flinging themselves up along the walls. "After all of these years and all of these failures, can you forgive me my one moment of anger as I lament to the gods what we have done to deserve such lives?” He went on speaking, but she’d stopped listening. She was stuck on a particular phrase: ‘what we have done to deserve such lives’. She looked away, lowering the torch and letting it rest on the ground. It flickered in a half sphere beside her, the only thing in this cave offering heat. Her brows drew together and she frowned. ‘Deserved’. The word didn’t ring true. The answer was nothing. She’d done nothing to deserve being childless. In a rare moment of internal rebellion, she felt the ache in her chest sour and collapse into anger. Her mouth twisted, lips curling downwards, jaw tightening. Perhaps her husband had done something. She did not know, but as much as she could think on her own life, her own deeds, her own dedication to the healing of other people, she couldn’t recall a single moment that stood out as ‘deserving’ of being robbed of a much desired bright spot.
It was as he said that he loved her that she finally looked back at him. The shadows of the torch beside her plunged the features of her face into shadow when she faced him and she hoped that the darkness was hiding her flare of fury. She both did and did not feel that this was her fault. No matter what she did, no matter how careful, the blood always came and the child was lost. Even Neena had never managed a baby. The more Hasani spoke, the more conflicted Tanishe became, growing agitated enough to stand. She picked up the torch, half listening to his earnest speech that both proclaimed how much he loved her, wanted what was best for both of them, but kept circling back around to somehow the two of them were at fault.
As much as she wanted to shout in frustration, she could not bring herself to do it. Words once spoken were words that could not be taken back. Instead of telling him what she wanted to, that this wasn’t her fault, that she didn’t like his anger, and resented it when he was upset with her, she didn’t. She swallowed back down that bitter poison that would have unleashed itself upon him. As strong has her husband was physically, and as mentally capable as he’d proved himself to be, he was a sensitive man. She did not think he had what it would take to handle her own truly vile emotions. Whatever she said in the heat of anger would weigh on him like a wet blanket. The coldness of it would seep into his very bones, drench his spirit, and he would not be able to let it go. As upset as she was, she couldn’t and wouldn’t do that to him. So she kept it silent.
“I forgive you,” was what came out of her mouth. The words weren’t tense. They were controlled and even, almost her usual soft tone. “Let us move on, Hasani. I do not like it right here.” To further make that point, she patted her backside, sending spirals of red dust into the darkness. With considerable effort, she forced the ill will from her being. It felt toxic to hang onto anger and she didn’t want it. She didn’t want to walk through this cave, with Hasani following along behind her, carrying feelings of anger and disgust. That wasn’t who she was and she would let this go completely. With the words of forgiveness passing between her lips, she had released her own upset. She did forgive him. That wasn’t the same as allowing him to continue to hurt her by speaking on this topic and a change of location would likely shake him from it.
“We do not have the whole day,” she reminded him once as much of the dirt was off her kaftan as possible. “This way.” It was rare that she led the way in anything, but right now, she couldn’t stand to stay where they were. With careful steps, she led the way across a natural stone arch that crossed a deep, horribly dark hole in the earth. She didn’t crouch, but she did bend just a little, holding her torch down to see if the bottom was visible. Cold air rushed up and she leaned back, shuddering at the thought of falling. Her shoulders relaxed once she was on solid ground on the other side.
“Let us keep going,” she said, flashing the torch briefly around the rock they’d come to. There was no soft, white, foamy substance. “Perhaps there is more further on.”
There was something about the dry bitterness of an assertion of forgiveness that neither of them believed in that really set Hasani on edge. He didn't expect things to go back to normal right away, especially not after how horribly he had been treating her up until now. The man had additionally not meant to make it seem like everything was her fault, because it truly wasn't. But he had no one else to vent his anger and frustration. It didn't feel right to constantly let Tanishe know of his disappointment and anger as she suffered each consecutive miscarriage.
It also felt far too private of a topic to speak about with others. There were already rumors that drifted about the tribe about their lack of ability to have children. About Hasani's lack of producing a child with either of his wives. He didn't need to spread it further by expressing his upset at not having had an heir born to his name yet. After so many years leading the tribe and so many years with both Tanishe, and Neena, Hasani was truly feeling as if all of this was his fault, not Tanishe's at all.
Hasani was glad for the gloomy darkness, only illuminated by the soft flame of torchlight. He couldn't hide the almost despondent expression that his features took on. What he was hoping for, he really didn't know. Something a little more heartfelt, maybe? But then again, he was the one that was in the wrong.
"Yes," was all that Hasani said for the longest time, getting up from the dirt and brushing off his own backside. Bringing his hand toward his face, he sniffed at the red dirt, but it only smelled like everything else in this cave. Needing to distract himself, he thought about the scents of the cave, wondering if he would be able to smell what distinct animals had been here before them. Had other men found this cave? Had they gone in and then never come back?
That was an interesting thought, and one he kept mulling over as the two of them navigated the cave system that the yhad found themselves in. He allowed his wife to lead him, finding it easier to keep careful composure when she couldn't actively see his face. It would be easier for him to just say nothing else on the matter, ever. At this point, they would never have children, and that would be okay. There would be no more hope given to the idea from here on if it meant that he hurt Tanishe by losing his temper when things went south. He didn't like this tense silence.
He never would, and right now, it felt like that would be all that he would ever get from her.
Navigating across the large, depthless hole and onto the other side, the man found himself leaning close to his wife, one arm out to steady both himself and her just in case one of them fell backward into the hole. It seemed that the darkness only became more oppressive as they rounded the corner together. "I wonder how far this goes," he observed absently, keeping at her back just in case. This darkness was not like the darkness of the night. It was worse, and unlike Tanishe, it seemed, it made him incredibly anxious as they moved further and further inward.
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There was something about the dry bitterness of an assertion of forgiveness that neither of them believed in that really set Hasani on edge. He didn't expect things to go back to normal right away, especially not after how horribly he had been treating her up until now. The man had additionally not meant to make it seem like everything was her fault, because it truly wasn't. But he had no one else to vent his anger and frustration. It didn't feel right to constantly let Tanishe know of his disappointment and anger as she suffered each consecutive miscarriage.
It also felt far too private of a topic to speak about with others. There were already rumors that drifted about the tribe about their lack of ability to have children. About Hasani's lack of producing a child with either of his wives. He didn't need to spread it further by expressing his upset at not having had an heir born to his name yet. After so many years leading the tribe and so many years with both Tanishe, and Neena, Hasani was truly feeling as if all of this was his fault, not Tanishe's at all.
Hasani was glad for the gloomy darkness, only illuminated by the soft flame of torchlight. He couldn't hide the almost despondent expression that his features took on. What he was hoping for, he really didn't know. Something a little more heartfelt, maybe? But then again, he was the one that was in the wrong.
"Yes," was all that Hasani said for the longest time, getting up from the dirt and brushing off his own backside. Bringing his hand toward his face, he sniffed at the red dirt, but it only smelled like everything else in this cave. Needing to distract himself, he thought about the scents of the cave, wondering if he would be able to smell what distinct animals had been here before them. Had other men found this cave? Had they gone in and then never come back?
That was an interesting thought, and one he kept mulling over as the two of them navigated the cave system that the yhad found themselves in. He allowed his wife to lead him, finding it easier to keep careful composure when she couldn't actively see his face. It would be easier for him to just say nothing else on the matter, ever. At this point, they would never have children, and that would be okay. There would be no more hope given to the idea from here on if it meant that he hurt Tanishe by losing his temper when things went south. He didn't like this tense silence.
He never would, and right now, it felt like that would be all that he would ever get from her.
Navigating across the large, depthless hole and onto the other side, the man found himself leaning close to his wife, one arm out to steady both himself and her just in case one of them fell backward into the hole. It seemed that the darkness only became more oppressive as they rounded the corner together. "I wonder how far this goes," he observed absently, keeping at her back just in case. This darkness was not like the darkness of the night. It was worse, and unlike Tanishe, it seemed, it made him incredibly anxious as they moved further and further inward.
There was something about the dry bitterness of an assertion of forgiveness that neither of them believed in that really set Hasani on edge. He didn't expect things to go back to normal right away, especially not after how horribly he had been treating her up until now. The man had additionally not meant to make it seem like everything was her fault, because it truly wasn't. But he had no one else to vent his anger and frustration. It didn't feel right to constantly let Tanishe know of his disappointment and anger as she suffered each consecutive miscarriage.
It also felt far too private of a topic to speak about with others. There were already rumors that drifted about the tribe about their lack of ability to have children. About Hasani's lack of producing a child with either of his wives. He didn't need to spread it further by expressing his upset at not having had an heir born to his name yet. After so many years leading the tribe and so many years with both Tanishe, and Neena, Hasani was truly feeling as if all of this was his fault, not Tanishe's at all.
Hasani was glad for the gloomy darkness, only illuminated by the soft flame of torchlight. He couldn't hide the almost despondent expression that his features took on. What he was hoping for, he really didn't know. Something a little more heartfelt, maybe? But then again, he was the one that was in the wrong.
"Yes," was all that Hasani said for the longest time, getting up from the dirt and brushing off his own backside. Bringing his hand toward his face, he sniffed at the red dirt, but it only smelled like everything else in this cave. Needing to distract himself, he thought about the scents of the cave, wondering if he would be able to smell what distinct animals had been here before them. Had other men found this cave? Had they gone in and then never come back?
That was an interesting thought, and one he kept mulling over as the two of them navigated the cave system that the yhad found themselves in. He allowed his wife to lead him, finding it easier to keep careful composure when she couldn't actively see his face. It would be easier for him to just say nothing else on the matter, ever. At this point, they would never have children, and that would be okay. There would be no more hope given to the idea from here on if it meant that he hurt Tanishe by losing his temper when things went south. He didn't like this tense silence.
He never would, and right now, it felt like that would be all that he would ever get from her.
Navigating across the large, depthless hole and onto the other side, the man found himself leaning close to his wife, one arm out to steady both himself and her just in case one of them fell backward into the hole. It seemed that the darkness only became more oppressive as they rounded the corner together. "I wonder how far this goes," he observed absently, keeping at her back just in case. This darkness was not like the darkness of the night. It was worse, and unlike Tanishe, it seemed, it made him incredibly anxious as they moved further and further inward.
The cave’s utter silence mesmerized her as much as it disturbed her. There was a sort of comfort in it; nothing would sneak up on her. At least, not without her hearing it first. She could trust that the darkness before them held no horrors and no harm. It was comforting like the soft cloak of night, when she was safely in her tent, lying next to Hasani, his breath caressing against her in rhythmic, even puffs. Even in the coldest of the desert nights, his presence in the dark was beyond calming. His arm came around her in that moment, guiding her forward a little and she wanted to lean back into him and the memory she’d been reliving but didn’t. The touch had broken the reverie and she felt a little cool as he finally let go. He remained right behind her, guarding the passage behind them but now she sensed his discomfort and she began to wonder if maybe she was romanticising the cave too much.
The minute crunching of the dirt beneath their feet was as loud as her heart thudding in her chest. Each breath she took was laced with the stale air of the cave and she exhaled in a shaky slip, trying to keep the sound from being too distracting. The flutter of cloth sliding against their skin, the clink of her bracelets and clacking of the colorful wooden beaded necklace she wore all served to distract her in ways they never did. Not where the sun shone and wind blew and life teemed. In the cave, her husband’s breath was cold by the time it hit the back of her neck and the unevenness to it had her holding out her torch even further, trying to see beyond the golden halo. Was she wrong? Was she silly to be so comfortable? Hasani certainly wasn’t confident as he usually was, and he knew more about these things.
“I wonder how far this goes.” The abruptness of Hasani’s voice made her flinch and she stopped walking to turn to him. The light of the torches bathed their faces in amber and she thought that for just a moment, he looked like a golden statue.
“Hard to say,” she whispered, mainly because she didn’t want the echo. Turning, she held out the torch to illuminate the softly tilting slope of the cave and it was then, in the soft dirt, she could see footprints. Because there was no wind or rain to wash away the prints, it was impossible to tell how long they’d been there. It could be that someone was in the cave with them, or, more likely, that they were going to follow in the tracks of their forebears. That thought appealed to Tanishe who, again, did not see this as a terribly bad omen. To her, it simply meant that they could come and go from this supposedly forgotten place.
“Come! Let us see where this goes!” In her new ferver, she forgot that she was to let her husband lead and be brave. She wanted to see where the footprints went and though she did not sprint, her steps were light and quick. Tanishe made sure to stay on the outside of the three foot wide footpath. It wound down and around into the bowels of the earth, ever downward until even she was a little out of breath. Several times she could see, when the cave’s natural walls gave way to a yawning chasm, that they were heading down into what she thought was a deep hole. Cool air rushed up from the darkness and whenever she stretched out her torch to the far right, the light penetrated into the darkness to reveal nothing. The rest of the cave wall was too far away for even the torch to illuminate and that did concern her a little. What if the earth moved while they were down here? They would never make it out.
At last, just as she was about to suggest they turn back, the floor sloped sharply, slick from a trickle of water she did not see. Her foot slipped up, way above her head and her rump landed on what turned out to be a stone slide. The tiny “Ah!” echoed as she zipped down the rest of the way, not even able to hang onto her torch. It was an absolute miracle that the thing rolled with her and not off the side into the abyss but now she was dealing with water on one side and trying not to be lit on fire on her other side. Perhaps if she was going slow, she could have made it back up by herself, but she was tumbling too fast to stop. She landed in a confused, damp heap at the floor’s base and moved just in time to avoid the torch as it clattered harmlessly beside her.
“I’m alright!” she called, before she actually checked if that was the case. And then she laughed. Possibly it was from shock, and her knee felt bruised, but otherwise she was unharmed. The torch’s flame merrily crackled and snapped, undisturbed from the tumble. She picked it up and held it aloft, realizing belatedly that this wasn’t the only light she was seeing. It was dim, but it was there - white sunlight.
She could hear not just a trickle of water this time, but the cheerful bubbling of a tiny waterfall. Confused, she waited for Hasani and didn’t explore without him. Once they were together, she tested her wrists and ankles, by turning them in careful circles, pleased that they were alright. Then she stood and her knee did give protest but nothing she couldn’t ignore. It felt a little like the kind of pain a bruise gave when it might be a week old and she might bump it on accident, suddenly remembering it was there. Rubbing little circles against her knee, she then turned to Hasani, checking him over.
“I don’t know how we’ll get back up there,” she said with perfect unconcern. They’d found something else to keep her occupied for the time being. Completely forgetting that they were tense around each other, what with her tumbling and the tenuous nature of upward climb they would have to make, she patted the dirt from his clothes, taking extra care around his shoulders and chest. “Let’s go explore?” The plea was cloaked in a suggestion and she leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek softly. “It would be a shame not to see where that light is coming from.”
She gently set the torch on the ground at their feet so that she could better adjust his shirt over his broad frame. He didn’t like this cave, and she felt that he really didn’t like it now. Of the two of them, it wasn’t obvious who the explorer was. Tanishe was serene and calm, usually content to do as she was told or as duty dictated. Hasani was a warrior and caretaker of the tribe. It was his duty to scout and seek out places the tribe could go and rest. Truly, he, at least in theory, should be the one to want to explore, but his exploration and boldness usually came from a desire for the good of his tribe. It was never to satisfy his own curiosity, so far as Tanishe could work out.
For herself, she tended to wander. She liked to see beautiful things and to discover things previously unknown. It was partially why she liked the healing trade so much. No two patients were alike and there was always something different. It also spoke to her shared desire with her husband to do good for their tribe members and to be kind. But this? This unseen waterfall and the dimmest of lights beyond what looked to be a curve in the wall, that spoke to her sense of adventure. What could it be? A feast for the eyes? Some sort of gathering place of spirits?
“Just a little further?” she leaned forward and kissed his chest, spreading her hands across the hard planes of muscle there. “Then we can work on going back?” She just knew that if they didn’t explore right now, they never would. Now that she and Hasani had both seen and experienced that steep drop off, she was pretty soundly sure her husband wouldn’t let her come anywhere near this cave again. He tended to be a bit cautious that way and, of course, if he banned it, she wouldn’t disobey.
Bending down to pick up the torch, she took him by the hand, gently leading him towards the sounds of water gurgling into itself. Down here, there was no dirt. It was smooth, slick stone and she could sort of make out the pathway ahead. The walls were warped and waving, as though they’d been underwater for a long time, though how the water could ever have been this high, she did not know. Nor did she know or have any guess as to where such a huge, rushing river of water might have gone. And in a desert, no less.
They rounded a corner and there it was. The pool Tanishe had been sure they would find. It was huge and laid out before them like an impossibly large plate of silver. The whole thing rippled from a waterfall still unseen somewhere in the distant shadows and high above them, though lower than she would have guessed, was a nearly perfect circle that let in sunlight. That was most definitely manmade and it blew all her theories of this place being forgotten out of the water.
She knelt down at the water’s edge, bringing the torch with her to see what the bottom of this lake looked like. It seemed like she could put her hand down and feel the smooth rock beneath but when she tried, her arm kept going and she leaned down, all the way up to her elbow but still couldn’t reach. Who knew how far it went down? But now the surface was disturbed and the clear, mirror like appearance rippled. She looked back and noticed that there was an evident place for a torch to hang and gave her husband a wide eyed look.
“Do you think this is a place where ancestors used to come to pray?” she asked, her voice loud and echoing in this chamber. That was something she didn’t love about this cave. Any sound they made was magnified ten fold and seemed louder still because of the lack of noise elsewhere. Shifting back on her heels, she stood from there and wiped her arm on her kaftan as she walked past Hasani and placed her torch in the sconce on the wall. The rock behind it was even carved smoothly to make a dip so that the light was magnified and she smiled, crossing her arms as she looked around them, pleasantly surprised by this little oasis under the earth.
“I wonder if we could drink that water,” she said but even as the words left her mouth, she doubted it. Clear as it might be, it likely wasn’t safe to drink. If there was anything desert people knew about, it was water. Their entire life was based around needing to find water to drink, to use to wash clothes, for bathing. There was literally nothing worse than walking up to an oasis only to find the water poisoned. That had happened more than once and Tanishe didn’t indulge that memory for long. Instead, she turned to her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up at him.
“My Leier,” she murmured in a low, sweet voice so that it didn’t echo. “Do not be uneasy. How often are we truly alone? Let us take delight in this and perhaps,” she pointed upwards. “That is an easy way out?” From here, with the firelight flickering, she thought she saw a natural looking ladder. The climb was definitely higher than she’d have normally been comfortable with but she didn’t fancy trying to fight their way back up that slippery incline and possibly slip right into the abyss on the side.
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The cave’s utter silence mesmerized her as much as it disturbed her. There was a sort of comfort in it; nothing would sneak up on her. At least, not without her hearing it first. She could trust that the darkness before them held no horrors and no harm. It was comforting like the soft cloak of night, when she was safely in her tent, lying next to Hasani, his breath caressing against her in rhythmic, even puffs. Even in the coldest of the desert nights, his presence in the dark was beyond calming. His arm came around her in that moment, guiding her forward a little and she wanted to lean back into him and the memory she’d been reliving but didn’t. The touch had broken the reverie and she felt a little cool as he finally let go. He remained right behind her, guarding the passage behind them but now she sensed his discomfort and she began to wonder if maybe she was romanticising the cave too much.
The minute crunching of the dirt beneath their feet was as loud as her heart thudding in her chest. Each breath she took was laced with the stale air of the cave and she exhaled in a shaky slip, trying to keep the sound from being too distracting. The flutter of cloth sliding against their skin, the clink of her bracelets and clacking of the colorful wooden beaded necklace she wore all served to distract her in ways they never did. Not where the sun shone and wind blew and life teemed. In the cave, her husband’s breath was cold by the time it hit the back of her neck and the unevenness to it had her holding out her torch even further, trying to see beyond the golden halo. Was she wrong? Was she silly to be so comfortable? Hasani certainly wasn’t confident as he usually was, and he knew more about these things.
“I wonder how far this goes.” The abruptness of Hasani’s voice made her flinch and she stopped walking to turn to him. The light of the torches bathed their faces in amber and she thought that for just a moment, he looked like a golden statue.
“Hard to say,” she whispered, mainly because she didn’t want the echo. Turning, she held out the torch to illuminate the softly tilting slope of the cave and it was then, in the soft dirt, she could see footprints. Because there was no wind or rain to wash away the prints, it was impossible to tell how long they’d been there. It could be that someone was in the cave with them, or, more likely, that they were going to follow in the tracks of their forebears. That thought appealed to Tanishe who, again, did not see this as a terribly bad omen. To her, it simply meant that they could come and go from this supposedly forgotten place.
“Come! Let us see where this goes!” In her new ferver, she forgot that she was to let her husband lead and be brave. She wanted to see where the footprints went and though she did not sprint, her steps were light and quick. Tanishe made sure to stay on the outside of the three foot wide footpath. It wound down and around into the bowels of the earth, ever downward until even she was a little out of breath. Several times she could see, when the cave’s natural walls gave way to a yawning chasm, that they were heading down into what she thought was a deep hole. Cool air rushed up from the darkness and whenever she stretched out her torch to the far right, the light penetrated into the darkness to reveal nothing. The rest of the cave wall was too far away for even the torch to illuminate and that did concern her a little. What if the earth moved while they were down here? They would never make it out.
At last, just as she was about to suggest they turn back, the floor sloped sharply, slick from a trickle of water she did not see. Her foot slipped up, way above her head and her rump landed on what turned out to be a stone slide. The tiny “Ah!” echoed as she zipped down the rest of the way, not even able to hang onto her torch. It was an absolute miracle that the thing rolled with her and not off the side into the abyss but now she was dealing with water on one side and trying not to be lit on fire on her other side. Perhaps if she was going slow, she could have made it back up by herself, but she was tumbling too fast to stop. She landed in a confused, damp heap at the floor’s base and moved just in time to avoid the torch as it clattered harmlessly beside her.
“I’m alright!” she called, before she actually checked if that was the case. And then she laughed. Possibly it was from shock, and her knee felt bruised, but otherwise she was unharmed. The torch’s flame merrily crackled and snapped, undisturbed from the tumble. She picked it up and held it aloft, realizing belatedly that this wasn’t the only light she was seeing. It was dim, but it was there - white sunlight.
She could hear not just a trickle of water this time, but the cheerful bubbling of a tiny waterfall. Confused, she waited for Hasani and didn’t explore without him. Once they were together, she tested her wrists and ankles, by turning them in careful circles, pleased that they were alright. Then she stood and her knee did give protest but nothing she couldn’t ignore. It felt a little like the kind of pain a bruise gave when it might be a week old and she might bump it on accident, suddenly remembering it was there. Rubbing little circles against her knee, she then turned to Hasani, checking him over.
“I don’t know how we’ll get back up there,” she said with perfect unconcern. They’d found something else to keep her occupied for the time being. Completely forgetting that they were tense around each other, what with her tumbling and the tenuous nature of upward climb they would have to make, she patted the dirt from his clothes, taking extra care around his shoulders and chest. “Let’s go explore?” The plea was cloaked in a suggestion and she leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek softly. “It would be a shame not to see where that light is coming from.”
She gently set the torch on the ground at their feet so that she could better adjust his shirt over his broad frame. He didn’t like this cave, and she felt that he really didn’t like it now. Of the two of them, it wasn’t obvious who the explorer was. Tanishe was serene and calm, usually content to do as she was told or as duty dictated. Hasani was a warrior and caretaker of the tribe. It was his duty to scout and seek out places the tribe could go and rest. Truly, he, at least in theory, should be the one to want to explore, but his exploration and boldness usually came from a desire for the good of his tribe. It was never to satisfy his own curiosity, so far as Tanishe could work out.
For herself, she tended to wander. She liked to see beautiful things and to discover things previously unknown. It was partially why she liked the healing trade so much. No two patients were alike and there was always something different. It also spoke to her shared desire with her husband to do good for their tribe members and to be kind. But this? This unseen waterfall and the dimmest of lights beyond what looked to be a curve in the wall, that spoke to her sense of adventure. What could it be? A feast for the eyes? Some sort of gathering place of spirits?
“Just a little further?” she leaned forward and kissed his chest, spreading her hands across the hard planes of muscle there. “Then we can work on going back?” She just knew that if they didn’t explore right now, they never would. Now that she and Hasani had both seen and experienced that steep drop off, she was pretty soundly sure her husband wouldn’t let her come anywhere near this cave again. He tended to be a bit cautious that way and, of course, if he banned it, she wouldn’t disobey.
Bending down to pick up the torch, she took him by the hand, gently leading him towards the sounds of water gurgling into itself. Down here, there was no dirt. It was smooth, slick stone and she could sort of make out the pathway ahead. The walls were warped and waving, as though they’d been underwater for a long time, though how the water could ever have been this high, she did not know. Nor did she know or have any guess as to where such a huge, rushing river of water might have gone. And in a desert, no less.
They rounded a corner and there it was. The pool Tanishe had been sure they would find. It was huge and laid out before them like an impossibly large plate of silver. The whole thing rippled from a waterfall still unseen somewhere in the distant shadows and high above them, though lower than she would have guessed, was a nearly perfect circle that let in sunlight. That was most definitely manmade and it blew all her theories of this place being forgotten out of the water.
She knelt down at the water’s edge, bringing the torch with her to see what the bottom of this lake looked like. It seemed like she could put her hand down and feel the smooth rock beneath but when she tried, her arm kept going and she leaned down, all the way up to her elbow but still couldn’t reach. Who knew how far it went down? But now the surface was disturbed and the clear, mirror like appearance rippled. She looked back and noticed that there was an evident place for a torch to hang and gave her husband a wide eyed look.
“Do you think this is a place where ancestors used to come to pray?” she asked, her voice loud and echoing in this chamber. That was something she didn’t love about this cave. Any sound they made was magnified ten fold and seemed louder still because of the lack of noise elsewhere. Shifting back on her heels, she stood from there and wiped her arm on her kaftan as she walked past Hasani and placed her torch in the sconce on the wall. The rock behind it was even carved smoothly to make a dip so that the light was magnified and she smiled, crossing her arms as she looked around them, pleasantly surprised by this little oasis under the earth.
“I wonder if we could drink that water,” she said but even as the words left her mouth, she doubted it. Clear as it might be, it likely wasn’t safe to drink. If there was anything desert people knew about, it was water. Their entire life was based around needing to find water to drink, to use to wash clothes, for bathing. There was literally nothing worse than walking up to an oasis only to find the water poisoned. That had happened more than once and Tanishe didn’t indulge that memory for long. Instead, she turned to her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up at him.
“My Leier,” she murmured in a low, sweet voice so that it didn’t echo. “Do not be uneasy. How often are we truly alone? Let us take delight in this and perhaps,” she pointed upwards. “That is an easy way out?” From here, with the firelight flickering, she thought she saw a natural looking ladder. The climb was definitely higher than she’d have normally been comfortable with but she didn’t fancy trying to fight their way back up that slippery incline and possibly slip right into the abyss on the side.
The cave’s utter silence mesmerized her as much as it disturbed her. There was a sort of comfort in it; nothing would sneak up on her. At least, not without her hearing it first. She could trust that the darkness before them held no horrors and no harm. It was comforting like the soft cloak of night, when she was safely in her tent, lying next to Hasani, his breath caressing against her in rhythmic, even puffs. Even in the coldest of the desert nights, his presence in the dark was beyond calming. His arm came around her in that moment, guiding her forward a little and she wanted to lean back into him and the memory she’d been reliving but didn’t. The touch had broken the reverie and she felt a little cool as he finally let go. He remained right behind her, guarding the passage behind them but now she sensed his discomfort and she began to wonder if maybe she was romanticising the cave too much.
The minute crunching of the dirt beneath their feet was as loud as her heart thudding in her chest. Each breath she took was laced with the stale air of the cave and she exhaled in a shaky slip, trying to keep the sound from being too distracting. The flutter of cloth sliding against their skin, the clink of her bracelets and clacking of the colorful wooden beaded necklace she wore all served to distract her in ways they never did. Not where the sun shone and wind blew and life teemed. In the cave, her husband’s breath was cold by the time it hit the back of her neck and the unevenness to it had her holding out her torch even further, trying to see beyond the golden halo. Was she wrong? Was she silly to be so comfortable? Hasani certainly wasn’t confident as he usually was, and he knew more about these things.
“I wonder how far this goes.” The abruptness of Hasani’s voice made her flinch and she stopped walking to turn to him. The light of the torches bathed their faces in amber and she thought that for just a moment, he looked like a golden statue.
“Hard to say,” she whispered, mainly because she didn’t want the echo. Turning, she held out the torch to illuminate the softly tilting slope of the cave and it was then, in the soft dirt, she could see footprints. Because there was no wind or rain to wash away the prints, it was impossible to tell how long they’d been there. It could be that someone was in the cave with them, or, more likely, that they were going to follow in the tracks of their forebears. That thought appealed to Tanishe who, again, did not see this as a terribly bad omen. To her, it simply meant that they could come and go from this supposedly forgotten place.
“Come! Let us see where this goes!” In her new ferver, she forgot that she was to let her husband lead and be brave. She wanted to see where the footprints went and though she did not sprint, her steps were light and quick. Tanishe made sure to stay on the outside of the three foot wide footpath. It wound down and around into the bowels of the earth, ever downward until even she was a little out of breath. Several times she could see, when the cave’s natural walls gave way to a yawning chasm, that they were heading down into what she thought was a deep hole. Cool air rushed up from the darkness and whenever she stretched out her torch to the far right, the light penetrated into the darkness to reveal nothing. The rest of the cave wall was too far away for even the torch to illuminate and that did concern her a little. What if the earth moved while they were down here? They would never make it out.
At last, just as she was about to suggest they turn back, the floor sloped sharply, slick from a trickle of water she did not see. Her foot slipped up, way above her head and her rump landed on what turned out to be a stone slide. The tiny “Ah!” echoed as she zipped down the rest of the way, not even able to hang onto her torch. It was an absolute miracle that the thing rolled with her and not off the side into the abyss but now she was dealing with water on one side and trying not to be lit on fire on her other side. Perhaps if she was going slow, she could have made it back up by herself, but she was tumbling too fast to stop. She landed in a confused, damp heap at the floor’s base and moved just in time to avoid the torch as it clattered harmlessly beside her.
“I’m alright!” she called, before she actually checked if that was the case. And then she laughed. Possibly it was from shock, and her knee felt bruised, but otherwise she was unharmed. The torch’s flame merrily crackled and snapped, undisturbed from the tumble. She picked it up and held it aloft, realizing belatedly that this wasn’t the only light she was seeing. It was dim, but it was there - white sunlight.
She could hear not just a trickle of water this time, but the cheerful bubbling of a tiny waterfall. Confused, she waited for Hasani and didn’t explore without him. Once they were together, she tested her wrists and ankles, by turning them in careful circles, pleased that they were alright. Then she stood and her knee did give protest but nothing she couldn’t ignore. It felt a little like the kind of pain a bruise gave when it might be a week old and she might bump it on accident, suddenly remembering it was there. Rubbing little circles against her knee, she then turned to Hasani, checking him over.
“I don’t know how we’ll get back up there,” she said with perfect unconcern. They’d found something else to keep her occupied for the time being. Completely forgetting that they were tense around each other, what with her tumbling and the tenuous nature of upward climb they would have to make, she patted the dirt from his clothes, taking extra care around his shoulders and chest. “Let’s go explore?” The plea was cloaked in a suggestion and she leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek softly. “It would be a shame not to see where that light is coming from.”
She gently set the torch on the ground at their feet so that she could better adjust his shirt over his broad frame. He didn’t like this cave, and she felt that he really didn’t like it now. Of the two of them, it wasn’t obvious who the explorer was. Tanishe was serene and calm, usually content to do as she was told or as duty dictated. Hasani was a warrior and caretaker of the tribe. It was his duty to scout and seek out places the tribe could go and rest. Truly, he, at least in theory, should be the one to want to explore, but his exploration and boldness usually came from a desire for the good of his tribe. It was never to satisfy his own curiosity, so far as Tanishe could work out.
For herself, she tended to wander. She liked to see beautiful things and to discover things previously unknown. It was partially why she liked the healing trade so much. No two patients were alike and there was always something different. It also spoke to her shared desire with her husband to do good for their tribe members and to be kind. But this? This unseen waterfall and the dimmest of lights beyond what looked to be a curve in the wall, that spoke to her sense of adventure. What could it be? A feast for the eyes? Some sort of gathering place of spirits?
“Just a little further?” she leaned forward and kissed his chest, spreading her hands across the hard planes of muscle there. “Then we can work on going back?” She just knew that if they didn’t explore right now, they never would. Now that she and Hasani had both seen and experienced that steep drop off, she was pretty soundly sure her husband wouldn’t let her come anywhere near this cave again. He tended to be a bit cautious that way and, of course, if he banned it, she wouldn’t disobey.
Bending down to pick up the torch, she took him by the hand, gently leading him towards the sounds of water gurgling into itself. Down here, there was no dirt. It was smooth, slick stone and she could sort of make out the pathway ahead. The walls were warped and waving, as though they’d been underwater for a long time, though how the water could ever have been this high, she did not know. Nor did she know or have any guess as to where such a huge, rushing river of water might have gone. And in a desert, no less.
They rounded a corner and there it was. The pool Tanishe had been sure they would find. It was huge and laid out before them like an impossibly large plate of silver. The whole thing rippled from a waterfall still unseen somewhere in the distant shadows and high above them, though lower than she would have guessed, was a nearly perfect circle that let in sunlight. That was most definitely manmade and it blew all her theories of this place being forgotten out of the water.
She knelt down at the water’s edge, bringing the torch with her to see what the bottom of this lake looked like. It seemed like she could put her hand down and feel the smooth rock beneath but when she tried, her arm kept going and she leaned down, all the way up to her elbow but still couldn’t reach. Who knew how far it went down? But now the surface was disturbed and the clear, mirror like appearance rippled. She looked back and noticed that there was an evident place for a torch to hang and gave her husband a wide eyed look.
“Do you think this is a place where ancestors used to come to pray?” she asked, her voice loud and echoing in this chamber. That was something she didn’t love about this cave. Any sound they made was magnified ten fold and seemed louder still because of the lack of noise elsewhere. Shifting back on her heels, she stood from there and wiped her arm on her kaftan as she walked past Hasani and placed her torch in the sconce on the wall. The rock behind it was even carved smoothly to make a dip so that the light was magnified and she smiled, crossing her arms as she looked around them, pleasantly surprised by this little oasis under the earth.
“I wonder if we could drink that water,” she said but even as the words left her mouth, she doubted it. Clear as it might be, it likely wasn’t safe to drink. If there was anything desert people knew about, it was water. Their entire life was based around needing to find water to drink, to use to wash clothes, for bathing. There was literally nothing worse than walking up to an oasis only to find the water poisoned. That had happened more than once and Tanishe didn’t indulge that memory for long. Instead, she turned to her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up at him.
“My Leier,” she murmured in a low, sweet voice so that it didn’t echo. “Do not be uneasy. How often are we truly alone? Let us take delight in this and perhaps,” she pointed upwards. “That is an easy way out?” From here, with the firelight flickering, she thought she saw a natural looking ladder. The climb was definitely higher than she’d have normally been comfortable with but she didn’t fancy trying to fight their way back up that slippery incline and possibly slip right into the abyss on the side.
This was a situation that Hasani normally would not have, at least tentatively, put himself into. There was so much expected of him, and despite him being a warrior at heart, putting himself into danger was not the first thing he often did. On a whim, when time was of the essence, it was a different story. Following his wife into this cave had been under the guise of both offering protection and because he had wanted to be close to her even while he was in the midst of a bad mood. A bad mood that was in no way at all her fault and that he was now agonizing over in a way that was likely unhealthy. But the leier couldn't stop himself. He did not like knowing that he made Tanishe any kind of way that wasn't good about herself.
While he had been angry about her miscarriage, one of many in the past and likely many to come in the future, he should have been supporting her instead. There had been hope in her this time. There had been hope in him. That maybe this one would stick. That their struggle would be over and the ancestors would no longer be punishing them for something they did not know they had done wrong. After all of the people that had died in Hasani's care, as did in every leier's care, the one thing that Hasani desperately wanted was a child.
He felt as if he were failing his beautiful, patient wife. His best friend. His confidant and his rock. She took his moods in stride, she spoke up when he needed her to, and she took her position as leierin seriously, as was expected of her. Truthfully, without her guiding hand and her warm presence, Hasani did not know how far he would have made it once he had become leier. And that was part of his need to mend things, even if he was the only one who saw them as momentarily broken, with Tanishe. Hasani had hoped that the cave would give them a truly quiet and private place to speak to one another, but Tanishe's curiosity was overwhelming.
The leier did not often look at the world in the way that his wife did. He was observing too much. The straight and clear cut facts and actions of those around him, the distances between one dune to the next, the levels of their food, and the health of their kin. He didn't often have the time to look to the stars or find excitement in exploration as he would have when he was much younger. He and Tanishe had grown together. They had been best friends long before they had been married, and Hasani wondered to himself when he had stopped seeing their world through the eyes of a curious and humbled boy and instead starting seeing the world through a harsher, more dangerous light.
Why was he starting to see danger around every corner? Why was his first reaction to her losing another of his children to be angry when he had never been so in the past? Why was he feeling a pressure from his tribe to carry on his bloodline, Tanishe's bloodline, when there was no true pressure at all? As far as he knew, no one spoke of their inability. No one gossiped. No one looked upon them with disappointment. Many who were alive now had been alive when Tanishe's most viable pregnancy had been lost to dehydration. When the rest of the tribe had suffered the pain of having no water and little energy as they tried their hardest to make it to the next oasis. That alone had been a massive sacrifice and since then, it seemed that most did not even think of it as an inability. Instead, he wondered, as his thoughts seemed to wander in endless circles in the darkness of this cave, if they thought that Hasani and Tanishe simply did not want to try anymore.
Hasani was a truthful man. Admittedly, his want for children was high. It was overwhelming, but he could see how his dissatisfaction would eventually start to breed resentment that had no place in his marriage with Tanishe. At the moment, there was no chance of him taking another wife. Neena's leaving of them both was enough to steer him away from the idea, not wanting to hurt in that way again. There were many ways to give someone a child, and they didn't all have to be biological, and that thought hit Hasani so hard that he had to pause, frowning to himself in the dim light given off by Tanishe's torch.
Turning to voice the idea to his wife, alarm and pure panic trailed down his spine as he watched Tanishe take the sharp, quick slide down the stone slide and to a more solid, less dangerous floor of their sheltered cave. "Tani," he breathed sharply, taking a few quick steps and forcing himself to slide down after her. He landed in front of her, but did not hit her, getting back to his feet and scrambling to her to check for himself that she was safe and unharmed. It worried him that she had fallen so far so suddenly. "Are you alright?" he asked uselessly even though she had told him already that she was fine. But now he needed to see for himself, large but soft hands trailing slowly down her arms and her elbows and then across her hips, from behind, to make sure that she actually wasn't hurt. When he was pleased with his own assessment of her, the leier glanced back the way that they had come.
"I don't know, either," he admitted, actually out of ideas for once. Now that they were here, it was his own curiosity that was being picked at. His gaze dropped to the floor under his feet, hearing Tanishe's plea to explore and at first saying nothing because her lips against his cheek floored him in a way that they always did. It didn't matter how long that they had been married, everytime she showed any sort of affection toward her, his stomach dropped and he felt almost weightless. Willing to give her anything and everything she wanted when she used that suggestive tone, Hasani found himself swallowing lightly. "Nowhere dangerous," was his only answer to her question and it was answer and permission enough to keep going, not that he would actually stop her. He wouldn't because it was nice seeing her like this.
Not being utterly silent and unwilling to have a conversation with him, let alone touch him. The man's dark gaze flickered to the side where her hands worked his shirt properly back onto his shoulders before it slid back toward her face. Then his gaze dropped to her lips and he found himself swallowing harder than before when his wife leaned into his body and pressed her lips against his chest. He could feel the heat of her through the thin linen and he took in an incredibly deep breath, reaching one hand up to brush along the gentle slope of her jaw and then along the side of her pulse. "I will follow you wherever you go," Hasani said calmly in answer, a boyish smile settling on his lips as an almost serene calm washed over him, enticed by touch he was sure he would not feel for quite a while after his mood earlier.
That was the thing about their small spats. They did not often last long, and if they did, there was something far more profoundly wrong than either of them were willing to admit. Such was a rare case and Hasani was relieved to see her warming back up to him quickly. He could be unyieldingly overbearing and grumpy about things at times, but he never wanted to make her feel as terrible as he had before, when they were first looking to enter this cave.
Her hand fit in his the way it always had: perfectly. His larger fingers laced with her delicate ones. The ones that were so practiced in medicine and healing, but were strong nevertheless. The fingers that gave so many comfort and serenity, but made his heart race and aided in the quiet pleasure they found in the night when the tribe had set to bed in a cool Saraha night. The leier spent the next few minutes watching the way her hand fit with his, observing the smallest lines of her knuckles and the paler skin toward her fingertips. She kept her nails nice instead of chipped despite the hours of work the young healer did every single day. His focus was entirely on the feeling of her hand, soft but slightly calloused, though not in a way that was undesirable whatsoever.
Hasani's feet carried him carefully over smooth, slick stone, the muscles in his arm tightening and relaxing whenever it seemed like they might have slipped together but caught their footing again. His gaze lifted from their joined hands to the walls surrounding him, his free hand lifting in order to feel the slick, smooth stone to his side, his dark brows finally furrowing with pure curiosity about the underground world that they had found. They rounded the corner and Hasani nearly stopped dead, watching the silvery pool with a look of awe and sudden desire to be submersed in the cool liquid despite how cool the air was down this deep in the ground.
Tanishe's question had the man thinking and he looked around slowly, letting go of her hand so that he could get a better view of the open space and the cool expanse of water. "I think so," he said slowly, "It... it feels like there was life here," he murmured, breathing in and then out once as he watched her move around the side of the pool to stick their torch into the sconce on the wall. "We shouldn't risk drinking the water... but if there were people here, it might be safe."
He didn't jump when his wife wrapped her arms around him, his gaze dropping to her face, and by extension, her mouth, once more. At first, he had no words for her, a smile spreading across his own lips once she had pointed toward what was likely their way out. By the looks of it, she was right. They were safe and not to be trapped here for the rest of their lives. Their tribe would not call for them only to find nothing. "I am not uneasy now that we can see," he admitted, "And now that I know that you are not hurt from that fall," he added, giving her a slight shrug of his shoulders. "But my curiosity drifts to that pool," Hasani suddenly admitted, "I wonder if we might be able to soak in it," he said slowly. "It is rare that we find such a body of water in the desert," the man murmured, but his gaze was on Tanishe's mouth again.
Without waiting for an answer, he leaned down to brush his lips against her so that he might entice her to slip out of her clothes and into the pool with him. They could pray once they were finished soaking. There was still much daylight to be had in the desert and they likely wouldn't be missed for a few more hours yet. Now that his worries had been stripped away in favor of a way out, his mind was now on exploring. Though, maybe less exploring the cave and more on exploring her. Her sudden curiosity in wandering was enticing and he wanted to know why. Sometimes it felt like he learned something new about his wife each day.
They were humans. They changed as they grew, and his thoughts were on what had stoked this fire of movement and exploration and why they had ended up here, in a place that appeared to have held people, of all places.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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This was a situation that Hasani normally would not have, at least tentatively, put himself into. There was so much expected of him, and despite him being a warrior at heart, putting himself into danger was not the first thing he often did. On a whim, when time was of the essence, it was a different story. Following his wife into this cave had been under the guise of both offering protection and because he had wanted to be close to her even while he was in the midst of a bad mood. A bad mood that was in no way at all her fault and that he was now agonizing over in a way that was likely unhealthy. But the leier couldn't stop himself. He did not like knowing that he made Tanishe any kind of way that wasn't good about herself.
While he had been angry about her miscarriage, one of many in the past and likely many to come in the future, he should have been supporting her instead. There had been hope in her this time. There had been hope in him. That maybe this one would stick. That their struggle would be over and the ancestors would no longer be punishing them for something they did not know they had done wrong. After all of the people that had died in Hasani's care, as did in every leier's care, the one thing that Hasani desperately wanted was a child.
He felt as if he were failing his beautiful, patient wife. His best friend. His confidant and his rock. She took his moods in stride, she spoke up when he needed her to, and she took her position as leierin seriously, as was expected of her. Truthfully, without her guiding hand and her warm presence, Hasani did not know how far he would have made it once he had become leier. And that was part of his need to mend things, even if he was the only one who saw them as momentarily broken, with Tanishe. Hasani had hoped that the cave would give them a truly quiet and private place to speak to one another, but Tanishe's curiosity was overwhelming.
The leier did not often look at the world in the way that his wife did. He was observing too much. The straight and clear cut facts and actions of those around him, the distances between one dune to the next, the levels of their food, and the health of their kin. He didn't often have the time to look to the stars or find excitement in exploration as he would have when he was much younger. He and Tanishe had grown together. They had been best friends long before they had been married, and Hasani wondered to himself when he had stopped seeing their world through the eyes of a curious and humbled boy and instead starting seeing the world through a harsher, more dangerous light.
Why was he starting to see danger around every corner? Why was his first reaction to her losing another of his children to be angry when he had never been so in the past? Why was he feeling a pressure from his tribe to carry on his bloodline, Tanishe's bloodline, when there was no true pressure at all? As far as he knew, no one spoke of their inability. No one gossiped. No one looked upon them with disappointment. Many who were alive now had been alive when Tanishe's most viable pregnancy had been lost to dehydration. When the rest of the tribe had suffered the pain of having no water and little energy as they tried their hardest to make it to the next oasis. That alone had been a massive sacrifice and since then, it seemed that most did not even think of it as an inability. Instead, he wondered, as his thoughts seemed to wander in endless circles in the darkness of this cave, if they thought that Hasani and Tanishe simply did not want to try anymore.
Hasani was a truthful man. Admittedly, his want for children was high. It was overwhelming, but he could see how his dissatisfaction would eventually start to breed resentment that had no place in his marriage with Tanishe. At the moment, there was no chance of him taking another wife. Neena's leaving of them both was enough to steer him away from the idea, not wanting to hurt in that way again. There were many ways to give someone a child, and they didn't all have to be biological, and that thought hit Hasani so hard that he had to pause, frowning to himself in the dim light given off by Tanishe's torch.
Turning to voice the idea to his wife, alarm and pure panic trailed down his spine as he watched Tanishe take the sharp, quick slide down the stone slide and to a more solid, less dangerous floor of their sheltered cave. "Tani," he breathed sharply, taking a few quick steps and forcing himself to slide down after her. He landed in front of her, but did not hit her, getting back to his feet and scrambling to her to check for himself that she was safe and unharmed. It worried him that she had fallen so far so suddenly. "Are you alright?" he asked uselessly even though she had told him already that she was fine. But now he needed to see for himself, large but soft hands trailing slowly down her arms and her elbows and then across her hips, from behind, to make sure that she actually wasn't hurt. When he was pleased with his own assessment of her, the leier glanced back the way that they had come.
"I don't know, either," he admitted, actually out of ideas for once. Now that they were here, it was his own curiosity that was being picked at. His gaze dropped to the floor under his feet, hearing Tanishe's plea to explore and at first saying nothing because her lips against his cheek floored him in a way that they always did. It didn't matter how long that they had been married, everytime she showed any sort of affection toward her, his stomach dropped and he felt almost weightless. Willing to give her anything and everything she wanted when she used that suggestive tone, Hasani found himself swallowing lightly. "Nowhere dangerous," was his only answer to her question and it was answer and permission enough to keep going, not that he would actually stop her. He wouldn't because it was nice seeing her like this.
Not being utterly silent and unwilling to have a conversation with him, let alone touch him. The man's dark gaze flickered to the side where her hands worked his shirt properly back onto his shoulders before it slid back toward her face. Then his gaze dropped to her lips and he found himself swallowing harder than before when his wife leaned into his body and pressed her lips against his chest. He could feel the heat of her through the thin linen and he took in an incredibly deep breath, reaching one hand up to brush along the gentle slope of her jaw and then along the side of her pulse. "I will follow you wherever you go," Hasani said calmly in answer, a boyish smile settling on his lips as an almost serene calm washed over him, enticed by touch he was sure he would not feel for quite a while after his mood earlier.
That was the thing about their small spats. They did not often last long, and if they did, there was something far more profoundly wrong than either of them were willing to admit. Such was a rare case and Hasani was relieved to see her warming back up to him quickly. He could be unyieldingly overbearing and grumpy about things at times, but he never wanted to make her feel as terrible as he had before, when they were first looking to enter this cave.
Her hand fit in his the way it always had: perfectly. His larger fingers laced with her delicate ones. The ones that were so practiced in medicine and healing, but were strong nevertheless. The fingers that gave so many comfort and serenity, but made his heart race and aided in the quiet pleasure they found in the night when the tribe had set to bed in a cool Saraha night. The leier spent the next few minutes watching the way her hand fit with his, observing the smallest lines of her knuckles and the paler skin toward her fingertips. She kept her nails nice instead of chipped despite the hours of work the young healer did every single day. His focus was entirely on the feeling of her hand, soft but slightly calloused, though not in a way that was undesirable whatsoever.
Hasani's feet carried him carefully over smooth, slick stone, the muscles in his arm tightening and relaxing whenever it seemed like they might have slipped together but caught their footing again. His gaze lifted from their joined hands to the walls surrounding him, his free hand lifting in order to feel the slick, smooth stone to his side, his dark brows finally furrowing with pure curiosity about the underground world that they had found. They rounded the corner and Hasani nearly stopped dead, watching the silvery pool with a look of awe and sudden desire to be submersed in the cool liquid despite how cool the air was down this deep in the ground.
Tanishe's question had the man thinking and he looked around slowly, letting go of her hand so that he could get a better view of the open space and the cool expanse of water. "I think so," he said slowly, "It... it feels like there was life here," he murmured, breathing in and then out once as he watched her move around the side of the pool to stick their torch into the sconce on the wall. "We shouldn't risk drinking the water... but if there were people here, it might be safe."
He didn't jump when his wife wrapped her arms around him, his gaze dropping to her face, and by extension, her mouth, once more. At first, he had no words for her, a smile spreading across his own lips once she had pointed toward what was likely their way out. By the looks of it, she was right. They were safe and not to be trapped here for the rest of their lives. Their tribe would not call for them only to find nothing. "I am not uneasy now that we can see," he admitted, "And now that I know that you are not hurt from that fall," he added, giving her a slight shrug of his shoulders. "But my curiosity drifts to that pool," Hasani suddenly admitted, "I wonder if we might be able to soak in it," he said slowly. "It is rare that we find such a body of water in the desert," the man murmured, but his gaze was on Tanishe's mouth again.
Without waiting for an answer, he leaned down to brush his lips against her so that he might entice her to slip out of her clothes and into the pool with him. They could pray once they were finished soaking. There was still much daylight to be had in the desert and they likely wouldn't be missed for a few more hours yet. Now that his worries had been stripped away in favor of a way out, his mind was now on exploring. Though, maybe less exploring the cave and more on exploring her. Her sudden curiosity in wandering was enticing and he wanted to know why. Sometimes it felt like he learned something new about his wife each day.
They were humans. They changed as they grew, and his thoughts were on what had stoked this fire of movement and exploration and why they had ended up here, in a place that appeared to have held people, of all places.
This was a situation that Hasani normally would not have, at least tentatively, put himself into. There was so much expected of him, and despite him being a warrior at heart, putting himself into danger was not the first thing he often did. On a whim, when time was of the essence, it was a different story. Following his wife into this cave had been under the guise of both offering protection and because he had wanted to be close to her even while he was in the midst of a bad mood. A bad mood that was in no way at all her fault and that he was now agonizing over in a way that was likely unhealthy. But the leier couldn't stop himself. He did not like knowing that he made Tanishe any kind of way that wasn't good about herself.
While he had been angry about her miscarriage, one of many in the past and likely many to come in the future, he should have been supporting her instead. There had been hope in her this time. There had been hope in him. That maybe this one would stick. That their struggle would be over and the ancestors would no longer be punishing them for something they did not know they had done wrong. After all of the people that had died in Hasani's care, as did in every leier's care, the one thing that Hasani desperately wanted was a child.
He felt as if he were failing his beautiful, patient wife. His best friend. His confidant and his rock. She took his moods in stride, she spoke up when he needed her to, and she took her position as leierin seriously, as was expected of her. Truthfully, without her guiding hand and her warm presence, Hasani did not know how far he would have made it once he had become leier. And that was part of his need to mend things, even if he was the only one who saw them as momentarily broken, with Tanishe. Hasani had hoped that the cave would give them a truly quiet and private place to speak to one another, but Tanishe's curiosity was overwhelming.
The leier did not often look at the world in the way that his wife did. He was observing too much. The straight and clear cut facts and actions of those around him, the distances between one dune to the next, the levels of their food, and the health of their kin. He didn't often have the time to look to the stars or find excitement in exploration as he would have when he was much younger. He and Tanishe had grown together. They had been best friends long before they had been married, and Hasani wondered to himself when he had stopped seeing their world through the eyes of a curious and humbled boy and instead starting seeing the world through a harsher, more dangerous light.
Why was he starting to see danger around every corner? Why was his first reaction to her losing another of his children to be angry when he had never been so in the past? Why was he feeling a pressure from his tribe to carry on his bloodline, Tanishe's bloodline, when there was no true pressure at all? As far as he knew, no one spoke of their inability. No one gossiped. No one looked upon them with disappointment. Many who were alive now had been alive when Tanishe's most viable pregnancy had been lost to dehydration. When the rest of the tribe had suffered the pain of having no water and little energy as they tried their hardest to make it to the next oasis. That alone had been a massive sacrifice and since then, it seemed that most did not even think of it as an inability. Instead, he wondered, as his thoughts seemed to wander in endless circles in the darkness of this cave, if they thought that Hasani and Tanishe simply did not want to try anymore.
Hasani was a truthful man. Admittedly, his want for children was high. It was overwhelming, but he could see how his dissatisfaction would eventually start to breed resentment that had no place in his marriage with Tanishe. At the moment, there was no chance of him taking another wife. Neena's leaving of them both was enough to steer him away from the idea, not wanting to hurt in that way again. There were many ways to give someone a child, and they didn't all have to be biological, and that thought hit Hasani so hard that he had to pause, frowning to himself in the dim light given off by Tanishe's torch.
Turning to voice the idea to his wife, alarm and pure panic trailed down his spine as he watched Tanishe take the sharp, quick slide down the stone slide and to a more solid, less dangerous floor of their sheltered cave. "Tani," he breathed sharply, taking a few quick steps and forcing himself to slide down after her. He landed in front of her, but did not hit her, getting back to his feet and scrambling to her to check for himself that she was safe and unharmed. It worried him that she had fallen so far so suddenly. "Are you alright?" he asked uselessly even though she had told him already that she was fine. But now he needed to see for himself, large but soft hands trailing slowly down her arms and her elbows and then across her hips, from behind, to make sure that she actually wasn't hurt. When he was pleased with his own assessment of her, the leier glanced back the way that they had come.
"I don't know, either," he admitted, actually out of ideas for once. Now that they were here, it was his own curiosity that was being picked at. His gaze dropped to the floor under his feet, hearing Tanishe's plea to explore and at first saying nothing because her lips against his cheek floored him in a way that they always did. It didn't matter how long that they had been married, everytime she showed any sort of affection toward her, his stomach dropped and he felt almost weightless. Willing to give her anything and everything she wanted when she used that suggestive tone, Hasani found himself swallowing lightly. "Nowhere dangerous," was his only answer to her question and it was answer and permission enough to keep going, not that he would actually stop her. He wouldn't because it was nice seeing her like this.
Not being utterly silent and unwilling to have a conversation with him, let alone touch him. The man's dark gaze flickered to the side where her hands worked his shirt properly back onto his shoulders before it slid back toward her face. Then his gaze dropped to her lips and he found himself swallowing harder than before when his wife leaned into his body and pressed her lips against his chest. He could feel the heat of her through the thin linen and he took in an incredibly deep breath, reaching one hand up to brush along the gentle slope of her jaw and then along the side of her pulse. "I will follow you wherever you go," Hasani said calmly in answer, a boyish smile settling on his lips as an almost serene calm washed over him, enticed by touch he was sure he would not feel for quite a while after his mood earlier.
That was the thing about their small spats. They did not often last long, and if they did, there was something far more profoundly wrong than either of them were willing to admit. Such was a rare case and Hasani was relieved to see her warming back up to him quickly. He could be unyieldingly overbearing and grumpy about things at times, but he never wanted to make her feel as terrible as he had before, when they were first looking to enter this cave.
Her hand fit in his the way it always had: perfectly. His larger fingers laced with her delicate ones. The ones that were so practiced in medicine and healing, but were strong nevertheless. The fingers that gave so many comfort and serenity, but made his heart race and aided in the quiet pleasure they found in the night when the tribe had set to bed in a cool Saraha night. The leier spent the next few minutes watching the way her hand fit with his, observing the smallest lines of her knuckles and the paler skin toward her fingertips. She kept her nails nice instead of chipped despite the hours of work the young healer did every single day. His focus was entirely on the feeling of her hand, soft but slightly calloused, though not in a way that was undesirable whatsoever.
Hasani's feet carried him carefully over smooth, slick stone, the muscles in his arm tightening and relaxing whenever it seemed like they might have slipped together but caught their footing again. His gaze lifted from their joined hands to the walls surrounding him, his free hand lifting in order to feel the slick, smooth stone to his side, his dark brows finally furrowing with pure curiosity about the underground world that they had found. They rounded the corner and Hasani nearly stopped dead, watching the silvery pool with a look of awe and sudden desire to be submersed in the cool liquid despite how cool the air was down this deep in the ground.
Tanishe's question had the man thinking and he looked around slowly, letting go of her hand so that he could get a better view of the open space and the cool expanse of water. "I think so," he said slowly, "It... it feels like there was life here," he murmured, breathing in and then out once as he watched her move around the side of the pool to stick their torch into the sconce on the wall. "We shouldn't risk drinking the water... but if there were people here, it might be safe."
He didn't jump when his wife wrapped her arms around him, his gaze dropping to her face, and by extension, her mouth, once more. At first, he had no words for her, a smile spreading across his own lips once she had pointed toward what was likely their way out. By the looks of it, she was right. They were safe and not to be trapped here for the rest of their lives. Their tribe would not call for them only to find nothing. "I am not uneasy now that we can see," he admitted, "And now that I know that you are not hurt from that fall," he added, giving her a slight shrug of his shoulders. "But my curiosity drifts to that pool," Hasani suddenly admitted, "I wonder if we might be able to soak in it," he said slowly. "It is rare that we find such a body of water in the desert," the man murmured, but his gaze was on Tanishe's mouth again.
Without waiting for an answer, he leaned down to brush his lips against her so that he might entice her to slip out of her clothes and into the pool with him. They could pray once they were finished soaking. There was still much daylight to be had in the desert and they likely wouldn't be missed for a few more hours yet. Now that his worries had been stripped away in favor of a way out, his mind was now on exploring. Though, maybe less exploring the cave and more on exploring her. Her sudden curiosity in wandering was enticing and he wanted to know why. Sometimes it felt like he learned something new about his wife each day.
They were humans. They changed as they grew, and his thoughts were on what had stoked this fire of movement and exploration and why they had ended up here, in a place that appeared to have held people, of all places.
As he spoke, she dropped her eyes and shifted so that she could lay her head against the expanse of his chest. His voice was a deep, pleasant rumble. She’d always found it soothing. Sometimes when they lay in the dark together, all she wanted was to hear him talk, to feel his fingers lace through hers, for their legs to intertwine so that they were almost as close as two humans could possibly be. Anything he chose to talk about, she’d listen to with a soft smile playing about her lips, just as she did now. Her eyes rested on the flickering torch resting in the sconce.
“I am not uneasy now that we can see,” Hasani was saying. “And now that I know that you are not hurt from that fall.”
That drew a wry smile from her. He was such a worrier. Sometimes it felt like if she so much as stubbed her toe on a rock, he’d bring the entire tribe to a halt just to check on her. But while sometimes it felt like a weight on her shoulders, acting as nimble and graceful as possible so as not to worry him, it was also a blessing, too. She felt that he truly valued her and not every wife could say the same. Hasani was a giant among men, literally and in his moral character. She was very, very lucky.
“But my curiosity drifts to that pool,” he went on and she frowned a little, pulling her head back so that she could look at the still water sitting quietly to their left. “I wonder if we might be able to soak in it. It is rare that we find such a body of water in the desert.”
“Soak?” she was forced to fall silent as his eyes lingered on her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed as Hasani bent his head to kiss her. This was a much sweeter interlude than their previous ones had been today. She definitely wouldn’t have assumed it would happen, considering how they’d journeyed here in such a stiff silence. Her arms drifted up to wrap around his neck and she opened her mouth to him, her tongue tasting his for a few moments but then she was pulling back again.
“If that is what my husband requires,” she lifted her kaftan over her head, revealing the sheer underclothes beneath. The flickering torchlight bathed the contours of her body in gold as she shed the rest of her clothes and stood before him beautiful and bare. “To hear is to obey, my leier,” she said softly but stepped away from him, rather than toward, backing up to the pool until she felt the chill of the water against her heels. Goosebumps raced up her flesh, pebbling her skin. Crooking her finger at him, the corner of her mouth lifted as she beckoned him.
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As he spoke, she dropped her eyes and shifted so that she could lay her head against the expanse of his chest. His voice was a deep, pleasant rumble. She’d always found it soothing. Sometimes when they lay in the dark together, all she wanted was to hear him talk, to feel his fingers lace through hers, for their legs to intertwine so that they were almost as close as two humans could possibly be. Anything he chose to talk about, she’d listen to with a soft smile playing about her lips, just as she did now. Her eyes rested on the flickering torch resting in the sconce.
“I am not uneasy now that we can see,” Hasani was saying. “And now that I know that you are not hurt from that fall.”
That drew a wry smile from her. He was such a worrier. Sometimes it felt like if she so much as stubbed her toe on a rock, he’d bring the entire tribe to a halt just to check on her. But while sometimes it felt like a weight on her shoulders, acting as nimble and graceful as possible so as not to worry him, it was also a blessing, too. She felt that he truly valued her and not every wife could say the same. Hasani was a giant among men, literally and in his moral character. She was very, very lucky.
“But my curiosity drifts to that pool,” he went on and she frowned a little, pulling her head back so that she could look at the still water sitting quietly to their left. “I wonder if we might be able to soak in it. It is rare that we find such a body of water in the desert.”
“Soak?” she was forced to fall silent as his eyes lingered on her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed as Hasani bent his head to kiss her. This was a much sweeter interlude than their previous ones had been today. She definitely wouldn’t have assumed it would happen, considering how they’d journeyed here in such a stiff silence. Her arms drifted up to wrap around his neck and she opened her mouth to him, her tongue tasting his for a few moments but then she was pulling back again.
“If that is what my husband requires,” she lifted her kaftan over her head, revealing the sheer underclothes beneath. The flickering torchlight bathed the contours of her body in gold as she shed the rest of her clothes and stood before him beautiful and bare. “To hear is to obey, my leier,” she said softly but stepped away from him, rather than toward, backing up to the pool until she felt the chill of the water against her heels. Goosebumps raced up her flesh, pebbling her skin. Crooking her finger at him, the corner of her mouth lifted as she beckoned him.
As he spoke, she dropped her eyes and shifted so that she could lay her head against the expanse of his chest. His voice was a deep, pleasant rumble. She’d always found it soothing. Sometimes when they lay in the dark together, all she wanted was to hear him talk, to feel his fingers lace through hers, for their legs to intertwine so that they were almost as close as two humans could possibly be. Anything he chose to talk about, she’d listen to with a soft smile playing about her lips, just as she did now. Her eyes rested on the flickering torch resting in the sconce.
“I am not uneasy now that we can see,” Hasani was saying. “And now that I know that you are not hurt from that fall.”
That drew a wry smile from her. He was such a worrier. Sometimes it felt like if she so much as stubbed her toe on a rock, he’d bring the entire tribe to a halt just to check on her. But while sometimes it felt like a weight on her shoulders, acting as nimble and graceful as possible so as not to worry him, it was also a blessing, too. She felt that he truly valued her and not every wife could say the same. Hasani was a giant among men, literally and in his moral character. She was very, very lucky.
“But my curiosity drifts to that pool,” he went on and she frowned a little, pulling her head back so that she could look at the still water sitting quietly to their left. “I wonder if we might be able to soak in it. It is rare that we find such a body of water in the desert.”
“Soak?” she was forced to fall silent as his eyes lingered on her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed as Hasani bent his head to kiss her. This was a much sweeter interlude than their previous ones had been today. She definitely wouldn’t have assumed it would happen, considering how they’d journeyed here in such a stiff silence. Her arms drifted up to wrap around his neck and she opened her mouth to him, her tongue tasting his for a few moments but then she was pulling back again.
“If that is what my husband requires,” she lifted her kaftan over her head, revealing the sheer underclothes beneath. The flickering torchlight bathed the contours of her body in gold as she shed the rest of her clothes and stood before him beautiful and bare. “To hear is to obey, my leier,” she said softly but stepped away from him, rather than toward, backing up to the pool until she felt the chill of the water against her heels. Goosebumps raced up her flesh, pebbling her skin. Crooking her finger at him, the corner of her mouth lifted as she beckoned him.
This was much different than how their day had started. From feeling angry and frustrated and heartbroken to a tense, worried quiet as they moved through this cave system. Now? Now these was a serenity that Hasani was glad to find again. He did not show his affection so well in words. He could speak them, but sometimes they did not feel as if they were enough. Sometimes they felt fake and hollow even though that was the furthest thing from the truth. None of his feelings for his wife were fake, hollow, or lacking in any way. He had loved two women in his life, but Neena was gone and Tanishe had his sole and undivided attention once more.
Hasani would not question his wife about it, but he was almost sure that she was happier for it. As much as Neena had hurt them both in her departure, the one constant was still the two of them. No matter how anger and sadness might drive them apart for a single moment, true love and friendship always brought them back here. The soft, passionate kiss that they shared reminded him that Tanishe had always been his whether he had realized it or not. It was love and affection that brought them together, but friendship and trust that kept them there. Everything else was secondary.
For who would Hasani be without his rock? His wife? His best friend in this world and in the afterlife? He would move the dunes for her. He would search every speck of sand in the desert if he ever lost her just so that they could be found together once more.
A slow smile trailed the man's lips as his wife pulled back, beginning to pull her clothes over her head. He was enthralled by her beauty, just as he always was, his hands drifting down to his own person so that he could rid himself of the flowing pants that he wore, kicking off his sandals in the same instance. And then the leier was following her, the smile on his features growing at the prospect of a cool relief from the heat outside of this place. "I just require you to be mine and to stay by my side. Always," Hasani admitted as he took the first few steps into the still waters. Reaching for his wife, his arm wound about her waist, working on pulling her closer to him so that they could walk into the shimmering coolness together.
His lips grazed her bare shoulder and then her neck. "I do not know who I would be now if you had not become mine in the first place, Tanishe," he said softly, kissing her cheek and then her temple as he wrapped her in his embrace, the two of them standing in the glistening shallows of their secret spring.
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This was much different than how their day had started. From feeling angry and frustrated and heartbroken to a tense, worried quiet as they moved through this cave system. Now? Now these was a serenity that Hasani was glad to find again. He did not show his affection so well in words. He could speak them, but sometimes they did not feel as if they were enough. Sometimes they felt fake and hollow even though that was the furthest thing from the truth. None of his feelings for his wife were fake, hollow, or lacking in any way. He had loved two women in his life, but Neena was gone and Tanishe had his sole and undivided attention once more.
Hasani would not question his wife about it, but he was almost sure that she was happier for it. As much as Neena had hurt them both in her departure, the one constant was still the two of them. No matter how anger and sadness might drive them apart for a single moment, true love and friendship always brought them back here. The soft, passionate kiss that they shared reminded him that Tanishe had always been his whether he had realized it or not. It was love and affection that brought them together, but friendship and trust that kept them there. Everything else was secondary.
For who would Hasani be without his rock? His wife? His best friend in this world and in the afterlife? He would move the dunes for her. He would search every speck of sand in the desert if he ever lost her just so that they could be found together once more.
A slow smile trailed the man's lips as his wife pulled back, beginning to pull her clothes over her head. He was enthralled by her beauty, just as he always was, his hands drifting down to his own person so that he could rid himself of the flowing pants that he wore, kicking off his sandals in the same instance. And then the leier was following her, the smile on his features growing at the prospect of a cool relief from the heat outside of this place. "I just require you to be mine and to stay by my side. Always," Hasani admitted as he took the first few steps into the still waters. Reaching for his wife, his arm wound about her waist, working on pulling her closer to him so that they could walk into the shimmering coolness together.
His lips grazed her bare shoulder and then her neck. "I do not know who I would be now if you had not become mine in the first place, Tanishe," he said softly, kissing her cheek and then her temple as he wrapped her in his embrace, the two of them standing in the glistening shallows of their secret spring.
This was much different than how their day had started. From feeling angry and frustrated and heartbroken to a tense, worried quiet as they moved through this cave system. Now? Now these was a serenity that Hasani was glad to find again. He did not show his affection so well in words. He could speak them, but sometimes they did not feel as if they were enough. Sometimes they felt fake and hollow even though that was the furthest thing from the truth. None of his feelings for his wife were fake, hollow, or lacking in any way. He had loved two women in his life, but Neena was gone and Tanishe had his sole and undivided attention once more.
Hasani would not question his wife about it, but he was almost sure that she was happier for it. As much as Neena had hurt them both in her departure, the one constant was still the two of them. No matter how anger and sadness might drive them apart for a single moment, true love and friendship always brought them back here. The soft, passionate kiss that they shared reminded him that Tanishe had always been his whether he had realized it or not. It was love and affection that brought them together, but friendship and trust that kept them there. Everything else was secondary.
For who would Hasani be without his rock? His wife? His best friend in this world and in the afterlife? He would move the dunes for her. He would search every speck of sand in the desert if he ever lost her just so that they could be found together once more.
A slow smile trailed the man's lips as his wife pulled back, beginning to pull her clothes over her head. He was enthralled by her beauty, just as he always was, his hands drifting down to his own person so that he could rid himself of the flowing pants that he wore, kicking off his sandals in the same instance. And then the leier was following her, the smile on his features growing at the prospect of a cool relief from the heat outside of this place. "I just require you to be mine and to stay by my side. Always," Hasani admitted as he took the first few steps into the still waters. Reaching for his wife, his arm wound about her waist, working on pulling her closer to him so that they could walk into the shimmering coolness together.
His lips grazed her bare shoulder and then her neck. "I do not know who I would be now if you had not become mine in the first place, Tanishe," he said softly, kissing her cheek and then her temple as he wrapped her in his embrace, the two of them standing in the glistening shallows of their secret spring.
When Hasani had first come to them, he’d been slim and lanky, taller than the other boys, but nothing a child took notice of. Tanishe had never considered him to be anything out of the ordinary while they were young. All she’d cared about was that he would play the childish games that all village children loved, would run after her in pretend wars, and was there to complain to about decisions her parents made that she didn’t agree with. In other words, a friend.
But then, one day, she’d noticed that he wasn’t lanky but lean and tall. Very tall. She’d thought on that for no more than a second but that was all it took for her to start watching him as he passed and soon she’d wanted to be near him for the sake of it and it’d had nothing to do with being his friend. His presence had become strong wine and she’d been awkward for a little while, not able to give a name to the feelings that were so newly flooding her being.
It had only gotten worse for her from that day forward, because Hasani seemed just as interested in spending time with her. The first time that his arms embraced her, when it had meant something more than a simple hug, she’d been his from that moment on. No other man had ever turned her head and she was positive none would. Who could compare with her towering husband and his broad chest? His beautiful soul? The sheer magnitude of his presence?
Right now, at the age of thirty years, Hasani far surpassed his younger self. He was more sure and more steady, growing only better and better as time passed and Tanishe couldn’t have been more besotted with him than she already was. Even when he’d taken another wife, her affections never faded. She was a little too practical to think that’d he’d have never taken another woman. Even now, she wasn’t positive he wouldn’t ever want another wife. But while she had him to herself again, she’d make the most of it and grinned as he approached her.
“I just require you to be mine and to stay by my side. Always,” he murmured as his arms encircled her.
“Happily done,” she said into his chest, walking backwards with him as he guided the two of them into the cool water.
“I do not know who I would be now if you had not become mine in the first place, Tanishe.” His lips moved against hers as she moved her head to capture his. They slowly rotated on the spot in the water. This close, she could not see his eyes clearly but she searched their dark depths nonetheless, the smile curving her lips growing.
“We are of one mind, my love,” she said softly and then didn’t speak again for some time. Hitching one thigh over his hip, she hoisted herself so that her legs were wrapped around his waist with the practice of having done this for years. She wasn’t going to ask him to replace what she’d so recently lost, but she did want the connection to him. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and for a time, all she was focused on was Hasani.
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When Hasani had first come to them, he’d been slim and lanky, taller than the other boys, but nothing a child took notice of. Tanishe had never considered him to be anything out of the ordinary while they were young. All she’d cared about was that he would play the childish games that all village children loved, would run after her in pretend wars, and was there to complain to about decisions her parents made that she didn’t agree with. In other words, a friend.
But then, one day, she’d noticed that he wasn’t lanky but lean and tall. Very tall. She’d thought on that for no more than a second but that was all it took for her to start watching him as he passed and soon she’d wanted to be near him for the sake of it and it’d had nothing to do with being his friend. His presence had become strong wine and she’d been awkward for a little while, not able to give a name to the feelings that were so newly flooding her being.
It had only gotten worse for her from that day forward, because Hasani seemed just as interested in spending time with her. The first time that his arms embraced her, when it had meant something more than a simple hug, she’d been his from that moment on. No other man had ever turned her head and she was positive none would. Who could compare with her towering husband and his broad chest? His beautiful soul? The sheer magnitude of his presence?
Right now, at the age of thirty years, Hasani far surpassed his younger self. He was more sure and more steady, growing only better and better as time passed and Tanishe couldn’t have been more besotted with him than she already was. Even when he’d taken another wife, her affections never faded. She was a little too practical to think that’d he’d have never taken another woman. Even now, she wasn’t positive he wouldn’t ever want another wife. But while she had him to herself again, she’d make the most of it and grinned as he approached her.
“I just require you to be mine and to stay by my side. Always,” he murmured as his arms encircled her.
“Happily done,” she said into his chest, walking backwards with him as he guided the two of them into the cool water.
“I do not know who I would be now if you had not become mine in the first place, Tanishe.” His lips moved against hers as she moved her head to capture his. They slowly rotated on the spot in the water. This close, she could not see his eyes clearly but she searched their dark depths nonetheless, the smile curving her lips growing.
“We are of one mind, my love,” she said softly and then didn’t speak again for some time. Hitching one thigh over his hip, she hoisted herself so that her legs were wrapped around his waist with the practice of having done this for years. She wasn’t going to ask him to replace what she’d so recently lost, but she did want the connection to him. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and for a time, all she was focused on was Hasani.
When Hasani had first come to them, he’d been slim and lanky, taller than the other boys, but nothing a child took notice of. Tanishe had never considered him to be anything out of the ordinary while they were young. All she’d cared about was that he would play the childish games that all village children loved, would run after her in pretend wars, and was there to complain to about decisions her parents made that she didn’t agree with. In other words, a friend.
But then, one day, she’d noticed that he wasn’t lanky but lean and tall. Very tall. She’d thought on that for no more than a second but that was all it took for her to start watching him as he passed and soon she’d wanted to be near him for the sake of it and it’d had nothing to do with being his friend. His presence had become strong wine and she’d been awkward for a little while, not able to give a name to the feelings that were so newly flooding her being.
It had only gotten worse for her from that day forward, because Hasani seemed just as interested in spending time with her. The first time that his arms embraced her, when it had meant something more than a simple hug, she’d been his from that moment on. No other man had ever turned her head and she was positive none would. Who could compare with her towering husband and his broad chest? His beautiful soul? The sheer magnitude of his presence?
Right now, at the age of thirty years, Hasani far surpassed his younger self. He was more sure and more steady, growing only better and better as time passed and Tanishe couldn’t have been more besotted with him than she already was. Even when he’d taken another wife, her affections never faded. She was a little too practical to think that’d he’d have never taken another woman. Even now, she wasn’t positive he wouldn’t ever want another wife. But while she had him to herself again, she’d make the most of it and grinned as he approached her.
“I just require you to be mine and to stay by my side. Always,” he murmured as his arms encircled her.
“Happily done,” she said into his chest, walking backwards with him as he guided the two of them into the cool water.
“I do not know who I would be now if you had not become mine in the first place, Tanishe.” His lips moved against hers as she moved her head to capture his. They slowly rotated on the spot in the water. This close, she could not see his eyes clearly but she searched their dark depths nonetheless, the smile curving her lips growing.
“We are of one mind, my love,” she said softly and then didn’t speak again for some time. Hitching one thigh over his hip, she hoisted herself so that her legs were wrapped around his waist with the practice of having done this for years. She wasn’t going to ask him to replace what she’d so recently lost, but she did want the connection to him. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and for a time, all she was focused on was Hasani.
He remembered when his parents died. His father a warrior and his mother just that. A mother. The tribe had all come together to ensure that Hasani was not left out in the cold with no parental supervision to speak of. Young, scared, and overwhelmingly sad, Hunai had specifically latched onto the boy, and though the entire tribe had cared for Hasani, it was the leier who took most special care of him. Hunai had trained him, groomed him to be everything that the man would want for one of his own sons.
And that meant being friends with Hunai's pretty little daughter. When he was younger, Hasani hadn't really looked at Tanishe that way. She had been thin, lanky, and rather scrawny like most girls were before they filled out into their normal bodies. That hadn't stopped her from becoming his best friend. He enjoyed her company and they got along well.
But one day Hasani had found himself looking at her and felt his stomach drop and bees flutter about his chest. It had been an odd feeling, but one he had eventually chased to the point of asking Hunai if he could marry Tanishe. The answer had been a very happy, proud, and resounding yes, and the entire tribe had been able to see it coming. They had seen the way that both Hasani and Tanishe looked at each other and it was a match that everyone had approved of.
If anything, Hasani's love for his wife had only grown more and more by the day. Through everything, he'd never once thought of abandoned her, nor thought that stated her didn't love her. He did. He loved her mother than he breathed, and if anything happened to her, he would rain fire upon his enemies until she was brought back to him. He had not felt the same way about Neena. At the end, when Neena had left, it had hurt that she hadn't wanted to be with them anymore, but as long as he still had Tanishe, Neena had become just a memory.
He hadn't thought of taking another wife since and he really had no intention to do so now. Hasani knew things could change, alliances could need to be made between tribes, but for now, it was just him and his wife.
Hasani had forgotten that he'd been frustrated with their situation at all as soon as Tanishe wrapped her legs around his hips. Walking her slowly down into the water, his arms around her body, Hasani broke their kiss so that he could lean into her neck.
It was an odd sensation, taking his wife while submerged in water. But he was strong, and the water made holding her, guiding her, much easier. They didn't speak for a very long time, and once hazy pleasure had taken both of them and the sunlight streaming through the hole in the ceiling of the cave was starting to grow dim, Hasani finally helped guide her out of the water.
He felt refreshed, pleased, and he still found himself leaning into his wife's neck, not actually wanting to let her go for the moment. But they would need to go back up to the surface, somehow, before the sun fully set and they were trapped in the damp darkness for the night. That didn't stop Hasani from trailing his fingers along Tanishe's spine. "I like to think that I'm patient, Tani," he murmured quietly, pressing his lips to the top of her head now. "And I am sorry for how I made you feel earlier," he said softly, "I love you, always, no matter what happens. You are the breath in my lungs and I couldn't imagine any future without you..."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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He remembered when his parents died. His father a warrior and his mother just that. A mother. The tribe had all come together to ensure that Hasani was not left out in the cold with no parental supervision to speak of. Young, scared, and overwhelmingly sad, Hunai had specifically latched onto the boy, and though the entire tribe had cared for Hasani, it was the leier who took most special care of him. Hunai had trained him, groomed him to be everything that the man would want for one of his own sons.
And that meant being friends with Hunai's pretty little daughter. When he was younger, Hasani hadn't really looked at Tanishe that way. She had been thin, lanky, and rather scrawny like most girls were before they filled out into their normal bodies. That hadn't stopped her from becoming his best friend. He enjoyed her company and they got along well.
But one day Hasani had found himself looking at her and felt his stomach drop and bees flutter about his chest. It had been an odd feeling, but one he had eventually chased to the point of asking Hunai if he could marry Tanishe. The answer had been a very happy, proud, and resounding yes, and the entire tribe had been able to see it coming. They had seen the way that both Hasani and Tanishe looked at each other and it was a match that everyone had approved of.
If anything, Hasani's love for his wife had only grown more and more by the day. Through everything, he'd never once thought of abandoned her, nor thought that stated her didn't love her. He did. He loved her mother than he breathed, and if anything happened to her, he would rain fire upon his enemies until she was brought back to him. He had not felt the same way about Neena. At the end, when Neena had left, it had hurt that she hadn't wanted to be with them anymore, but as long as he still had Tanishe, Neena had become just a memory.
He hadn't thought of taking another wife since and he really had no intention to do so now. Hasani knew things could change, alliances could need to be made between tribes, but for now, it was just him and his wife.
Hasani had forgotten that he'd been frustrated with their situation at all as soon as Tanishe wrapped her legs around his hips. Walking her slowly down into the water, his arms around her body, Hasani broke their kiss so that he could lean into her neck.
It was an odd sensation, taking his wife while submerged in water. But he was strong, and the water made holding her, guiding her, much easier. They didn't speak for a very long time, and once hazy pleasure had taken both of them and the sunlight streaming through the hole in the ceiling of the cave was starting to grow dim, Hasani finally helped guide her out of the water.
He felt refreshed, pleased, and he still found himself leaning into his wife's neck, not actually wanting to let her go for the moment. But they would need to go back up to the surface, somehow, before the sun fully set and they were trapped in the damp darkness for the night. That didn't stop Hasani from trailing his fingers along Tanishe's spine. "I like to think that I'm patient, Tani," he murmured quietly, pressing his lips to the top of her head now. "And I am sorry for how I made you feel earlier," he said softly, "I love you, always, no matter what happens. You are the breath in my lungs and I couldn't imagine any future without you..."
He remembered when his parents died. His father a warrior and his mother just that. A mother. The tribe had all come together to ensure that Hasani was not left out in the cold with no parental supervision to speak of. Young, scared, and overwhelmingly sad, Hunai had specifically latched onto the boy, and though the entire tribe had cared for Hasani, it was the leier who took most special care of him. Hunai had trained him, groomed him to be everything that the man would want for one of his own sons.
And that meant being friends with Hunai's pretty little daughter. When he was younger, Hasani hadn't really looked at Tanishe that way. She had been thin, lanky, and rather scrawny like most girls were before they filled out into their normal bodies. That hadn't stopped her from becoming his best friend. He enjoyed her company and they got along well.
But one day Hasani had found himself looking at her and felt his stomach drop and bees flutter about his chest. It had been an odd feeling, but one he had eventually chased to the point of asking Hunai if he could marry Tanishe. The answer had been a very happy, proud, and resounding yes, and the entire tribe had been able to see it coming. They had seen the way that both Hasani and Tanishe looked at each other and it was a match that everyone had approved of.
If anything, Hasani's love for his wife had only grown more and more by the day. Through everything, he'd never once thought of abandoned her, nor thought that stated her didn't love her. He did. He loved her mother than he breathed, and if anything happened to her, he would rain fire upon his enemies until she was brought back to him. He had not felt the same way about Neena. At the end, when Neena had left, it had hurt that she hadn't wanted to be with them anymore, but as long as he still had Tanishe, Neena had become just a memory.
He hadn't thought of taking another wife since and he really had no intention to do so now. Hasani knew things could change, alliances could need to be made between tribes, but for now, it was just him and his wife.
Hasani had forgotten that he'd been frustrated with their situation at all as soon as Tanishe wrapped her legs around his hips. Walking her slowly down into the water, his arms around her body, Hasani broke their kiss so that he could lean into her neck.
It was an odd sensation, taking his wife while submerged in water. But he was strong, and the water made holding her, guiding her, much easier. They didn't speak for a very long time, and once hazy pleasure had taken both of them and the sunlight streaming through the hole in the ceiling of the cave was starting to grow dim, Hasani finally helped guide her out of the water.
He felt refreshed, pleased, and he still found himself leaning into his wife's neck, not actually wanting to let her go for the moment. But they would need to go back up to the surface, somehow, before the sun fully set and they were trapped in the damp darkness for the night. That didn't stop Hasani from trailing his fingers along Tanishe's spine. "I like to think that I'm patient, Tani," he murmured quietly, pressing his lips to the top of her head now. "And I am sorry for how I made you feel earlier," he said softly, "I love you, always, no matter what happens. You are the breath in my lungs and I couldn't imagine any future without you..."
The pleasure they found together in that cool water was unlike any they’d had before. She could honestly say they’d never made love this far underground, with this much unlikeliness of ever being happened upon. They were well and truly alone and it was delicious. She’d hummed and sighed and moaned, shuddering with satisfaction at the last, then finally languid in his hold, letting his fingers trail up and down her back as he mused within himself.
“What is it?” she’d asked, nibbling his ear, waiting for him to speak.
“I like to think that I'm patient, Tani,” he began and she immediately felt herself tense. Here it came. He was going to tell her again that he wanted a child and that they could try again and again. Rather than pulling away from him, she buried her face against his neck, not wanting him to see the crumpled expression that she couldn’t quite make go away. She was not ready to talk about this. But, here he surprised her not by talking about that, but by apologizing again.
“And I am sorry for how I made you feel earlier. I love you, always, no matter what happens. You are the breath in my lungs and I couldn't imagine any future without you...”
Her arms wound around his neck. She listened to the distant drips from the ceiling plonking into the water’s edges, sending ripples across the surface. The tension in her body slowly relaxed and her heartbeat, which sped up at the first of his speech, thrummed down into a steady rhythm again. Their bare skin was slick against each other’s and she finally turned her head, running her tongue along the rim of his ear, ending in a soft nip to his earlobe.
“My moon and stars,” she whispered to him. “My life and my breath are all for you.” A renewal promise to put this horrendous beginning of the afternoon behind them and to focus on the much more pleasurable, much more connected end of it. Then her eyes lifted to the hole in the ceiling. The light told her they needed to leave and as one, they understood each other’s desire to now free themselves from the delicious earthen escape they’d found.
She didn’t speak as they went back to shore. Her arms remained around his shoulders and she kept pressing soft kisses along his neck and jaw and lips while she was still this close to his face. Once her feet brushed the smooth stone bottom of the pool, she began the rather unpleasant task of having to re dress herself with her skin still wet. The coolness of the cave had goosebumps racing along her body, pebbling her flesh and pulling her skin tight. Once her sandals and kaftan were back on, she went back to the wall where their torch still burned and took it from the sconce.
“I will follow you,” she said in a whisper. It seemed somehow disrespectful to the silence if she was to disturb it with a louder voice than that.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The pleasure they found together in that cool water was unlike any they’d had before. She could honestly say they’d never made love this far underground, with this much unlikeliness of ever being happened upon. They were well and truly alone and it was delicious. She’d hummed and sighed and moaned, shuddering with satisfaction at the last, then finally languid in his hold, letting his fingers trail up and down her back as he mused within himself.
“What is it?” she’d asked, nibbling his ear, waiting for him to speak.
“I like to think that I'm patient, Tani,” he began and she immediately felt herself tense. Here it came. He was going to tell her again that he wanted a child and that they could try again and again. Rather than pulling away from him, she buried her face against his neck, not wanting him to see the crumpled expression that she couldn’t quite make go away. She was not ready to talk about this. But, here he surprised her not by talking about that, but by apologizing again.
“And I am sorry for how I made you feel earlier. I love you, always, no matter what happens. You are the breath in my lungs and I couldn't imagine any future without you...”
Her arms wound around his neck. She listened to the distant drips from the ceiling plonking into the water’s edges, sending ripples across the surface. The tension in her body slowly relaxed and her heartbeat, which sped up at the first of his speech, thrummed down into a steady rhythm again. Their bare skin was slick against each other’s and she finally turned her head, running her tongue along the rim of his ear, ending in a soft nip to his earlobe.
“My moon and stars,” she whispered to him. “My life and my breath are all for you.” A renewal promise to put this horrendous beginning of the afternoon behind them and to focus on the much more pleasurable, much more connected end of it. Then her eyes lifted to the hole in the ceiling. The light told her they needed to leave and as one, they understood each other’s desire to now free themselves from the delicious earthen escape they’d found.
She didn’t speak as they went back to shore. Her arms remained around his shoulders and she kept pressing soft kisses along his neck and jaw and lips while she was still this close to his face. Once her feet brushed the smooth stone bottom of the pool, she began the rather unpleasant task of having to re dress herself with her skin still wet. The coolness of the cave had goosebumps racing along her body, pebbling her flesh and pulling her skin tight. Once her sandals and kaftan were back on, she went back to the wall where their torch still burned and took it from the sconce.
“I will follow you,” she said in a whisper. It seemed somehow disrespectful to the silence if she was to disturb it with a louder voice than that.
The pleasure they found together in that cool water was unlike any they’d had before. She could honestly say they’d never made love this far underground, with this much unlikeliness of ever being happened upon. They were well and truly alone and it was delicious. She’d hummed and sighed and moaned, shuddering with satisfaction at the last, then finally languid in his hold, letting his fingers trail up and down her back as he mused within himself.
“What is it?” she’d asked, nibbling his ear, waiting for him to speak.
“I like to think that I'm patient, Tani,” he began and she immediately felt herself tense. Here it came. He was going to tell her again that he wanted a child and that they could try again and again. Rather than pulling away from him, she buried her face against his neck, not wanting him to see the crumpled expression that she couldn’t quite make go away. She was not ready to talk about this. But, here he surprised her not by talking about that, but by apologizing again.
“And I am sorry for how I made you feel earlier. I love you, always, no matter what happens. You are the breath in my lungs and I couldn't imagine any future without you...”
Her arms wound around his neck. She listened to the distant drips from the ceiling plonking into the water’s edges, sending ripples across the surface. The tension in her body slowly relaxed and her heartbeat, which sped up at the first of his speech, thrummed down into a steady rhythm again. Their bare skin was slick against each other’s and she finally turned her head, running her tongue along the rim of his ear, ending in a soft nip to his earlobe.
“My moon and stars,” she whispered to him. “My life and my breath are all for you.” A renewal promise to put this horrendous beginning of the afternoon behind them and to focus on the much more pleasurable, much more connected end of it. Then her eyes lifted to the hole in the ceiling. The light told her they needed to leave and as one, they understood each other’s desire to now free themselves from the delicious earthen escape they’d found.
She didn’t speak as they went back to shore. Her arms remained around his shoulders and she kept pressing soft kisses along his neck and jaw and lips while she was still this close to his face. Once her feet brushed the smooth stone bottom of the pool, she began the rather unpleasant task of having to re dress herself with her skin still wet. The coolness of the cave had goosebumps racing along her body, pebbling her flesh and pulling her skin tight. Once her sandals and kaftan were back on, she went back to the wall where their torch still burned and took it from the sconce.
“I will follow you,” she said in a whisper. It seemed somehow disrespectful to the silence if she was to disturb it with a louder voice than that.
