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The leier still felt stilted, even days after rescuing his two warriors from having their hands removed. After giving their rescuer her proper earnings, the tribe had moved on, quickly, back into the desert sands. They, thankfully, had traded for enough supplies to last them to the next portion of the Egypt and Bedoa border. Another, different city that they could settle into and focus on trading with. They would need the supplies before they turned around and started back in the other direction. Back toward the Port of the West, where they seemed to land time and time again. It was where they had found Saro, and Hasani caught himself wondering whether the man would stay with the Bedoans or drift off into the Egyptian lands.
If he didn't stay, Hasani would surely miss his new friend. The savior of his wife. A man who would and could make a find addition to the warriors that inhabited the Zaire's ranks.
Hasani blinked awake in the early dawn light, staring up at the opening at the top of his hawe. One arm rest around his wife, pulling her body closer to him in the first heartbeats of quiet wakefulness. Turning his head, the man brushed his lips against Tanishe's temple, then trailed them slowly down toward her lips, brushing his lips against hers in a tender show of affection. It was hard to stop there, though. It was difficult to find control when the camp was still quiet and they had the time to be affectionate with one another.
"Tani," Hasani rumbled gently, trying to kiss her slowly awake, large hands already wandering down the soft curves of her body. He had stopped picturing her heavy with child long ago, all too happy to simply have her as a faithful and loyal wife and leierin. Who needed a baby when he had his best friend, the one woman who held all of his trust and his love in her two small hands. It was a heavy weight to bear, he was sure, but Hasani knew his wife and knew she would think nothing of such an admission. She already knew that he belonged to her and her alone.
Shedding Neena's memory and his love for the other woman had almost been a breath of fresh air. There was no one else to impress, and Tanishe didn't need quiet convincing to show her true feelings to him. "Are you awake?" the man murmured against her lips, humming a soft cuckle, his tone curious. "The camp is quiet," he coaxed softly.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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The leier still felt stilted, even days after rescuing his two warriors from having their hands removed. After giving their rescuer her proper earnings, the tribe had moved on, quickly, back into the desert sands. They, thankfully, had traded for enough supplies to last them to the next portion of the Egypt and Bedoa border. Another, different city that they could settle into and focus on trading with. They would need the supplies before they turned around and started back in the other direction. Back toward the Port of the West, where they seemed to land time and time again. It was where they had found Saro, and Hasani caught himself wondering whether the man would stay with the Bedoans or drift off into the Egyptian lands.
If he didn't stay, Hasani would surely miss his new friend. The savior of his wife. A man who would and could make a find addition to the warriors that inhabited the Zaire's ranks.
Hasani blinked awake in the early dawn light, staring up at the opening at the top of his hawe. One arm rest around his wife, pulling her body closer to him in the first heartbeats of quiet wakefulness. Turning his head, the man brushed his lips against Tanishe's temple, then trailed them slowly down toward her lips, brushing his lips against hers in a tender show of affection. It was hard to stop there, though. It was difficult to find control when the camp was still quiet and they had the time to be affectionate with one another.
"Tani," Hasani rumbled gently, trying to kiss her slowly awake, large hands already wandering down the soft curves of her body. He had stopped picturing her heavy with child long ago, all too happy to simply have her as a faithful and loyal wife and leierin. Who needed a baby when he had his best friend, the one woman who held all of his trust and his love in her two small hands. It was a heavy weight to bear, he was sure, but Hasani knew his wife and knew she would think nothing of such an admission. She already knew that he belonged to her and her alone.
Shedding Neena's memory and his love for the other woman had almost been a breath of fresh air. There was no one else to impress, and Tanishe didn't need quiet convincing to show her true feelings to him. "Are you awake?" the man murmured against her lips, humming a soft cuckle, his tone curious. "The camp is quiet," he coaxed softly.
The leier still felt stilted, even days after rescuing his two warriors from having their hands removed. After giving their rescuer her proper earnings, the tribe had moved on, quickly, back into the desert sands. They, thankfully, had traded for enough supplies to last them to the next portion of the Egypt and Bedoa border. Another, different city that they could settle into and focus on trading with. They would need the supplies before they turned around and started back in the other direction. Back toward the Port of the West, where they seemed to land time and time again. It was where they had found Saro, and Hasani caught himself wondering whether the man would stay with the Bedoans or drift off into the Egyptian lands.
If he didn't stay, Hasani would surely miss his new friend. The savior of his wife. A man who would and could make a find addition to the warriors that inhabited the Zaire's ranks.
Hasani blinked awake in the early dawn light, staring up at the opening at the top of his hawe. One arm rest around his wife, pulling her body closer to him in the first heartbeats of quiet wakefulness. Turning his head, the man brushed his lips against Tanishe's temple, then trailed them slowly down toward her lips, brushing his lips against hers in a tender show of affection. It was hard to stop there, though. It was difficult to find control when the camp was still quiet and they had the time to be affectionate with one another.
"Tani," Hasani rumbled gently, trying to kiss her slowly awake, large hands already wandering down the soft curves of her body. He had stopped picturing her heavy with child long ago, all too happy to simply have her as a faithful and loyal wife and leierin. Who needed a baby when he had his best friend, the one woman who held all of his trust and his love in her two small hands. It was a heavy weight to bear, he was sure, but Hasani knew his wife and knew she would think nothing of such an admission. She already knew that he belonged to her and her alone.
Shedding Neena's memory and his love for the other woman had almost been a breath of fresh air. There was no one else to impress, and Tanishe didn't need quiet convincing to show her true feelings to him. "Are you awake?" the man murmured against her lips, humming a soft cuckle, his tone curious. "The camp is quiet," he coaxed softly.
Tanish lay curled up with her back to her husband. Her dreams were untroubled and her parted lips allowed soft breaths to slip to and fro into the stillness of early morning. His arm pulling her the short distance to him only partially roused her. In her mind, she still walked the endless grasslands. The palm of her hand skimmed the seedy, golden heads of the waist high grasses. Hasani’s lips pressed against her temple and she breathed in deeply, awake but not opening her eyes yet.
She turned into him as he kissed along her cheek, her lips, her chin. His hands were warm and sliding along her body. Only her thin shift kept his skin from hers. With her eyes still closed, she made a half effort to kiss him in return but the bed was so cozy and she was still half asleep. Her husband’s voice rumbled against her lips, checking if she was awake.
“Mmmmno,” she mumbled.
“The camp is quiet,” he persisted and Tanishe only responded with a sleepy hum and to throw her leg over his hip beneath the blankets.
“Does that mean,” her eyes opened half way to look at him. “That you wish to take up your duties to me?” Then she yawned, stretched, and reached down to hitch up her shift. “Please me,” she commanded softly. Because they had no children, their time together wasn’t usually limited. Unless Hasani was needed somewhere urgently, or unless she had a patient she was tending, they had their mornings and nights to themselves. A blessing and a curse.
Tanishe snuggled into him, kissing him in return, but moved so that she was leaning over him, on top now. “Good morning to you, too,” she whispered softly. The smoke from a few cooking fires being started by the tribe’s slaves drifted over the opening of their tent but for the moment, they were very much at their leisure. At least, they would have been if her stomach hadn’t taken a very sudden, very violent lurch. She hid that from Hasani but she knew what it was immediately. She was pregnant. She’d been pregnant enough times to know the symptoms but without the benefit of having carried a child to term. ...she just wouldn’t tell him this time.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Tanish lay curled up with her back to her husband. Her dreams were untroubled and her parted lips allowed soft breaths to slip to and fro into the stillness of early morning. His arm pulling her the short distance to him only partially roused her. In her mind, she still walked the endless grasslands. The palm of her hand skimmed the seedy, golden heads of the waist high grasses. Hasani’s lips pressed against her temple and she breathed in deeply, awake but not opening her eyes yet.
She turned into him as he kissed along her cheek, her lips, her chin. His hands were warm and sliding along her body. Only her thin shift kept his skin from hers. With her eyes still closed, she made a half effort to kiss him in return but the bed was so cozy and she was still half asleep. Her husband’s voice rumbled against her lips, checking if she was awake.
“Mmmmno,” she mumbled.
“The camp is quiet,” he persisted and Tanishe only responded with a sleepy hum and to throw her leg over his hip beneath the blankets.
“Does that mean,” her eyes opened half way to look at him. “That you wish to take up your duties to me?” Then she yawned, stretched, and reached down to hitch up her shift. “Please me,” she commanded softly. Because they had no children, their time together wasn’t usually limited. Unless Hasani was needed somewhere urgently, or unless she had a patient she was tending, they had their mornings and nights to themselves. A blessing and a curse.
Tanishe snuggled into him, kissing him in return, but moved so that she was leaning over him, on top now. “Good morning to you, too,” she whispered softly. The smoke from a few cooking fires being started by the tribe’s slaves drifted over the opening of their tent but for the moment, they were very much at their leisure. At least, they would have been if her stomach hadn’t taken a very sudden, very violent lurch. She hid that from Hasani but she knew what it was immediately. She was pregnant. She’d been pregnant enough times to know the symptoms but without the benefit of having carried a child to term. ...she just wouldn’t tell him this time.
Tanish lay curled up with her back to her husband. Her dreams were untroubled and her parted lips allowed soft breaths to slip to and fro into the stillness of early morning. His arm pulling her the short distance to him only partially roused her. In her mind, she still walked the endless grasslands. The palm of her hand skimmed the seedy, golden heads of the waist high grasses. Hasani’s lips pressed against her temple and she breathed in deeply, awake but not opening her eyes yet.
She turned into him as he kissed along her cheek, her lips, her chin. His hands were warm and sliding along her body. Only her thin shift kept his skin from hers. With her eyes still closed, she made a half effort to kiss him in return but the bed was so cozy and she was still half asleep. Her husband’s voice rumbled against her lips, checking if she was awake.
“Mmmmno,” she mumbled.
“The camp is quiet,” he persisted and Tanishe only responded with a sleepy hum and to throw her leg over his hip beneath the blankets.
“Does that mean,” her eyes opened half way to look at him. “That you wish to take up your duties to me?” Then she yawned, stretched, and reached down to hitch up her shift. “Please me,” she commanded softly. Because they had no children, their time together wasn’t usually limited. Unless Hasani was needed somewhere urgently, or unless she had a patient she was tending, they had their mornings and nights to themselves. A blessing and a curse.
Tanishe snuggled into him, kissing him in return, but moved so that she was leaning over him, on top now. “Good morning to you, too,” she whispered softly. The smoke from a few cooking fires being started by the tribe’s slaves drifted over the opening of their tent but for the moment, they were very much at their leisure. At least, they would have been if her stomach hadn’t taken a very sudden, very violent lurch. She hid that from Hasani but she knew what it was immediately. She was pregnant. She’d been pregnant enough times to know the symptoms but without the benefit of having carried a child to term. ...she just wouldn’t tell him this time.
Hasani found himself chuckling, running his fingers through his wife's hair as she slowly came to wakefulness. His dark eyes watched hers, even as she simultaneously protested and swung her leg up and over his hip in an almost sloppy fashion. He didn't mind it. He liked catching her like this, hardly awake but soft and so very willing to let him do as he pleased to her body. Her words made him nearly glow, happy that she still always wanted him as much as he wanted her.
"It very much means that I want to take up my duties to you," Hasani chuckled warmly, leaning into kiss her softly once before he let his lips wander little by little down her face and along her jaw then against her neck. Warm hands found her skin beneath their shared blankets and he was watching her with a humorous eye before he suddenly ducked his head beneath them.
His tongue found her collarbone, then the valley between her breasts. His lips had just found her breast before she switched their positions so that she was leaning over him. Chuckling softly, he threw the blanket off a little, wondering if this was how she wanted for things to go. Her on top. That didn't displease the leier, and instead he found himself patting her bare ass with one of his hands. "If you please," he mused, shifting back down her body a little, was was making it very, super, incredibly clear that he wanted to put his tongue between her thighs before they got into any sort of sordid conversation about the day ahead.
Hasani made her sit on her knees above him, both of his arms coming to rest around her thighs so that he could use her body to brace himself against. With her hovering over his face, the leier wasted no time in leaning up so that he could brush his tongue against the little bundle of nerves between her thighs. This was his version of good morning, and his dark eyes watched her face with this initial invasion of her body before he pulled back a little, using his fingers to part her slick folds. He woke up starving, but this was the meal he was desperately wanting.
"Good morning," he finally rumbled up at her, not actually thinking about food in this instance. Just the taste of her and the look on her beautiful features. "And you told me no a minute ago," he teased, immediately going back to brushing his tongue against her clit with practiced skill that was intended to get her to react to him.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Hasani found himself chuckling, running his fingers through his wife's hair as she slowly came to wakefulness. His dark eyes watched hers, even as she simultaneously protested and swung her leg up and over his hip in an almost sloppy fashion. He didn't mind it. He liked catching her like this, hardly awake but soft and so very willing to let him do as he pleased to her body. Her words made him nearly glow, happy that she still always wanted him as much as he wanted her.
"It very much means that I want to take up my duties to you," Hasani chuckled warmly, leaning into kiss her softly once before he let his lips wander little by little down her face and along her jaw then against her neck. Warm hands found her skin beneath their shared blankets and he was watching her with a humorous eye before he suddenly ducked his head beneath them.
His tongue found her collarbone, then the valley between her breasts. His lips had just found her breast before she switched their positions so that she was leaning over him. Chuckling softly, he threw the blanket off a little, wondering if this was how she wanted for things to go. Her on top. That didn't displease the leier, and instead he found himself patting her bare ass with one of his hands. "If you please," he mused, shifting back down her body a little, was was making it very, super, incredibly clear that he wanted to put his tongue between her thighs before they got into any sort of sordid conversation about the day ahead.
Hasani made her sit on her knees above him, both of his arms coming to rest around her thighs so that he could use her body to brace himself against. With her hovering over his face, the leier wasted no time in leaning up so that he could brush his tongue against the little bundle of nerves between her thighs. This was his version of good morning, and his dark eyes watched her face with this initial invasion of her body before he pulled back a little, using his fingers to part her slick folds. He woke up starving, but this was the meal he was desperately wanting.
"Good morning," he finally rumbled up at her, not actually thinking about food in this instance. Just the taste of her and the look on her beautiful features. "And you told me no a minute ago," he teased, immediately going back to brushing his tongue against her clit with practiced skill that was intended to get her to react to him.
Hasani found himself chuckling, running his fingers through his wife's hair as she slowly came to wakefulness. His dark eyes watched hers, even as she simultaneously protested and swung her leg up and over his hip in an almost sloppy fashion. He didn't mind it. He liked catching her like this, hardly awake but soft and so very willing to let him do as he pleased to her body. Her words made him nearly glow, happy that she still always wanted him as much as he wanted her.
"It very much means that I want to take up my duties to you," Hasani chuckled warmly, leaning into kiss her softly once before he let his lips wander little by little down her face and along her jaw then against her neck. Warm hands found her skin beneath their shared blankets and he was watching her with a humorous eye before he suddenly ducked his head beneath them.
His tongue found her collarbone, then the valley between her breasts. His lips had just found her breast before she switched their positions so that she was leaning over him. Chuckling softly, he threw the blanket off a little, wondering if this was how she wanted for things to go. Her on top. That didn't displease the leier, and instead he found himself patting her bare ass with one of his hands. "If you please," he mused, shifting back down her body a little, was was making it very, super, incredibly clear that he wanted to put his tongue between her thighs before they got into any sort of sordid conversation about the day ahead.
Hasani made her sit on her knees above him, both of his arms coming to rest around her thighs so that he could use her body to brace himself against. With her hovering over his face, the leier wasted no time in leaning up so that he could brush his tongue against the little bundle of nerves between her thighs. This was his version of good morning, and his dark eyes watched her face with this initial invasion of her body before he pulled back a little, using his fingers to part her slick folds. He woke up starving, but this was the meal he was desperately wanting.
"Good morning," he finally rumbled up at her, not actually thinking about food in this instance. Just the taste of her and the look on her beautiful features. "And you told me no a minute ago," he teased, immediately going back to brushing his tongue against her clit with practiced skill that was intended to get her to react to him.
She sucked in sharply at the same moment the warmth of Hasani’s tongue glided over her breast. It was the lurch in her stomach but easily explainable by the normal reaction she’d have had to that sort of touch. The feeling passed blessedly fast and soon she was sinking down, returning his affection by kissing the top of his head and gliding her fingertips along his neck and shoulders. Mornings like this, where they had time together in the cool quiet, before the blazing sun seared high overhead - these were mornings she cherished.
“If you please,” Hasani patted her butt and slid down so that she was forced to raise up on her knees to keep her balance.
“Yes, husband?” she asked, tone laced with false curiosity. “Is there something you needed?” Hasani didn’t answer this and she grinned as he moved her so that she hovered over his face. Her smile widened with the first brush of his tongue but then she was sinking down, leaning over him with both arms braced against the bed pallet on either side of his head. Another sharp intake of breath sucked into her lungs when his fingers slipped inside her. This was going to be a very good morning, apparently.
“Good morning. And you told me no, a minute ago.”
“Hmmm,” came from the back of her throat as he returned to his pleasurable task. Tanishe was easy to please in this way. She wasn’t terribly loud of out long habit. They lived in tents and the walls were thin, their neighbors close, and if someone stood at the tent wall, they’d be able to hear her heavy panting already. Hasani didn’t have to use his tongue for more than a few minutes before she swore his name, her body tightening around his fingers and her own hands gripping the blankets.
Tanishe hadn’t overly loved that position when she’d first married Hasani. It made her self conscious and she had assumed he couldn’t possibly enjoy it. She’d thought that for several years, in fact, but then he’d married Neena and when the three of them began sleeping together, Tanishe found that she both liked to perform and receive it after all. Even when Neena left, she loved it - possibly better because she was back to being her husband’s one and only.
Raising up on her knees, she shakily moved her body back, feeling blindly for his length and settling easily onto it. “Let me give you a good morning,” she whispered, rolling her hips slowly on him at first, then gradually picking up the pace. She braced her hands against the expanse of his chest and leaned down to slide her tongue into his mouth.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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She sucked in sharply at the same moment the warmth of Hasani’s tongue glided over her breast. It was the lurch in her stomach but easily explainable by the normal reaction she’d have had to that sort of touch. The feeling passed blessedly fast and soon she was sinking down, returning his affection by kissing the top of his head and gliding her fingertips along his neck and shoulders. Mornings like this, where they had time together in the cool quiet, before the blazing sun seared high overhead - these were mornings she cherished.
“If you please,” Hasani patted her butt and slid down so that she was forced to raise up on her knees to keep her balance.
“Yes, husband?” she asked, tone laced with false curiosity. “Is there something you needed?” Hasani didn’t answer this and she grinned as he moved her so that she hovered over his face. Her smile widened with the first brush of his tongue but then she was sinking down, leaning over him with both arms braced against the bed pallet on either side of his head. Another sharp intake of breath sucked into her lungs when his fingers slipped inside her. This was going to be a very good morning, apparently.
“Good morning. And you told me no, a minute ago.”
“Hmmm,” came from the back of her throat as he returned to his pleasurable task. Tanishe was easy to please in this way. She wasn’t terribly loud of out long habit. They lived in tents and the walls were thin, their neighbors close, and if someone stood at the tent wall, they’d be able to hear her heavy panting already. Hasani didn’t have to use his tongue for more than a few minutes before she swore his name, her body tightening around his fingers and her own hands gripping the blankets.
Tanishe hadn’t overly loved that position when she’d first married Hasani. It made her self conscious and she had assumed he couldn’t possibly enjoy it. She’d thought that for several years, in fact, but then he’d married Neena and when the three of them began sleeping together, Tanishe found that she both liked to perform and receive it after all. Even when Neena left, she loved it - possibly better because she was back to being her husband’s one and only.
Raising up on her knees, she shakily moved her body back, feeling blindly for his length and settling easily onto it. “Let me give you a good morning,” she whispered, rolling her hips slowly on him at first, then gradually picking up the pace. She braced her hands against the expanse of his chest and leaned down to slide her tongue into his mouth.
She sucked in sharply at the same moment the warmth of Hasani’s tongue glided over her breast. It was the lurch in her stomach but easily explainable by the normal reaction she’d have had to that sort of touch. The feeling passed blessedly fast and soon she was sinking down, returning his affection by kissing the top of his head and gliding her fingertips along his neck and shoulders. Mornings like this, where they had time together in the cool quiet, before the blazing sun seared high overhead - these were mornings she cherished.
“If you please,” Hasani patted her butt and slid down so that she was forced to raise up on her knees to keep her balance.
“Yes, husband?” she asked, tone laced with false curiosity. “Is there something you needed?” Hasani didn’t answer this and she grinned as he moved her so that she hovered over his face. Her smile widened with the first brush of his tongue but then she was sinking down, leaning over him with both arms braced against the bed pallet on either side of his head. Another sharp intake of breath sucked into her lungs when his fingers slipped inside her. This was going to be a very good morning, apparently.
“Good morning. And you told me no, a minute ago.”
“Hmmm,” came from the back of her throat as he returned to his pleasurable task. Tanishe was easy to please in this way. She wasn’t terribly loud of out long habit. They lived in tents and the walls were thin, their neighbors close, and if someone stood at the tent wall, they’d be able to hear her heavy panting already. Hasani didn’t have to use his tongue for more than a few minutes before she swore his name, her body tightening around his fingers and her own hands gripping the blankets.
Tanishe hadn’t overly loved that position when she’d first married Hasani. It made her self conscious and she had assumed he couldn’t possibly enjoy it. She’d thought that for several years, in fact, but then he’d married Neena and when the three of them began sleeping together, Tanishe found that she both liked to perform and receive it after all. Even when Neena left, she loved it - possibly better because she was back to being her husband’s one and only.
Raising up on her knees, she shakily moved her body back, feeling blindly for his length and settling easily onto it. “Let me give you a good morning,” she whispered, rolling her hips slowly on him at first, then gradually picking up the pace. She braced her hands against the expanse of his chest and leaned down to slide her tongue into his mouth.
Hasani loved mornings like these. Where he could take his time and service his wife the way that she deserved. She was a patient woman, but sometimes he really did like to make her squirm. And then she quickly found herself not very patient anymore. It was something that Hasani liked about her. Calm, but to a point. And he knew how to get her to that point.
Working her with both his fingers and his tongue, he didn't expect her to last long like this. She never usually did, though he enjoyed the effort that he put in to making her finish hard and fast. It was the perfect way to wake her up, in his opinion. Only when she did finish did he relinquish his hold upon her, letting her slide back down his body. His arms wrapped around his wife's, and he smiled sweetly up at her.
"You always make mornings good," he complimented right as she settled onto him. That had him groaning his quiet pleasure, reaching a hand up so that he could play with her hair for a few moments. Hasani chuckled when she leaned down to kiss him, wanting her to taste herself on her tongue. Rolling his hips up against hers, they set an easy pace, his quiet pants and grunts of pleasure kept quiet just for the sake of their tribe members.
Sometimes he really really wished they could have complete privacy. He wondered what sounds she would make then.
With his hands gripping her thighs after a few moments, Hasani broke the kiss and dropped his head back against the pillow of their bed pallet. "You're so beautiful, Tani," he rumbled up at her with both humor and love in his eyes. She truly was, and would always be, the only woman he truly wanted more than anything in this world.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Hasani loved mornings like these. Where he could take his time and service his wife the way that she deserved. She was a patient woman, but sometimes he really did like to make her squirm. And then she quickly found herself not very patient anymore. It was something that Hasani liked about her. Calm, but to a point. And he knew how to get her to that point.
Working her with both his fingers and his tongue, he didn't expect her to last long like this. She never usually did, though he enjoyed the effort that he put in to making her finish hard and fast. It was the perfect way to wake her up, in his opinion. Only when she did finish did he relinquish his hold upon her, letting her slide back down his body. His arms wrapped around his wife's, and he smiled sweetly up at her.
"You always make mornings good," he complimented right as she settled onto him. That had him groaning his quiet pleasure, reaching a hand up so that he could play with her hair for a few moments. Hasani chuckled when she leaned down to kiss him, wanting her to taste herself on her tongue. Rolling his hips up against hers, they set an easy pace, his quiet pants and grunts of pleasure kept quiet just for the sake of their tribe members.
Sometimes he really really wished they could have complete privacy. He wondered what sounds she would make then.
With his hands gripping her thighs after a few moments, Hasani broke the kiss and dropped his head back against the pillow of their bed pallet. "You're so beautiful, Tani," he rumbled up at her with both humor and love in his eyes. She truly was, and would always be, the only woman he truly wanted more than anything in this world.
Hasani loved mornings like these. Where he could take his time and service his wife the way that she deserved. She was a patient woman, but sometimes he really did like to make her squirm. And then she quickly found herself not very patient anymore. It was something that Hasani liked about her. Calm, but to a point. And he knew how to get her to that point.
Working her with both his fingers and his tongue, he didn't expect her to last long like this. She never usually did, though he enjoyed the effort that he put in to making her finish hard and fast. It was the perfect way to wake her up, in his opinion. Only when she did finish did he relinquish his hold upon her, letting her slide back down his body. His arms wrapped around his wife's, and he smiled sweetly up at her.
"You always make mornings good," he complimented right as she settled onto him. That had him groaning his quiet pleasure, reaching a hand up so that he could play with her hair for a few moments. Hasani chuckled when she leaned down to kiss him, wanting her to taste herself on her tongue. Rolling his hips up against hers, they set an easy pace, his quiet pants and grunts of pleasure kept quiet just for the sake of their tribe members.
Sometimes he really really wished they could have complete privacy. He wondered what sounds she would make then.
With his hands gripping her thighs after a few moments, Hasani broke the kiss and dropped his head back against the pillow of their bed pallet. "You're so beautiful, Tani," he rumbled up at her with both humor and love in his eyes. She truly was, and would always be, the only woman he truly wanted more than anything in this world.
These mornings were not uncommon. Born from long years of affection for one another, she couldn’t imagine that they would change. At least, not change again. They had for a time when he’d married Neena. While the relationship was still new and alluring, Tanishe had not been part of it. That had hurt unexpectedly much. Perhaps it shouldn’t have. Most men took two wives and she knew she was not so very special that she could or would be all to him; at least at the time. They loved each other true enough but men always, always wanted more and Hasani was no different.
She’d had to lay alone and listen to another woman’s rapid panting breaths and her husband’s familiar harsh one in the small hours of the morning when they assumed she was asleep. But, thankfully, probably shamefully, that had changed quite quickly. Because Hasani did love her, and probably out of morbid curiosity, he’d had her join them. What began as an experiment turned into a triad that none of them anticipated loving quite as much as they did.
She thought of Neena sometimes, times like now when she could taste herself on Hasani’s tongue, but she didn’t ache for the other woman like she had when Neena had first gone. The longer Neena was away, the calmer and more tranquil Tanishe became. An anger had settled, a feeling of being used, of not being enough. Hasani didn’t make her feel like that. Not now, anyway, that she was the only wife again. Now she had his whole attention and she rolled her hips on him in grateful affection.
For a little while they didn’t speak, too wrapped up in the moment for more thoughts. Tanishe’s expression contorted for a second time that morning as she came, contracting around him, and holding herself perfectly still while she basked in the feeling that was stronger this time around. Hasani’s hands were warm against her thighs and she remained there, hands on his chest, eyes finally resting on him when he called her beautiful. She thought him so, too, but didn’t use the same word.
“And you,” she said slowly, purringly as she extended herself atop him to wrap her arms around his neck again, dropping kisses along his jaw and lips and cheeks. “Are perfect.” Sated and happy, her thoughts were now turning towards food and the preparing of it. “What shall I make for you, husband?”
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These mornings were not uncommon. Born from long years of affection for one another, she couldn’t imagine that they would change. At least, not change again. They had for a time when he’d married Neena. While the relationship was still new and alluring, Tanishe had not been part of it. That had hurt unexpectedly much. Perhaps it shouldn’t have. Most men took two wives and she knew she was not so very special that she could or would be all to him; at least at the time. They loved each other true enough but men always, always wanted more and Hasani was no different.
She’d had to lay alone and listen to another woman’s rapid panting breaths and her husband’s familiar harsh one in the small hours of the morning when they assumed she was asleep. But, thankfully, probably shamefully, that had changed quite quickly. Because Hasani did love her, and probably out of morbid curiosity, he’d had her join them. What began as an experiment turned into a triad that none of them anticipated loving quite as much as they did.
She thought of Neena sometimes, times like now when she could taste herself on Hasani’s tongue, but she didn’t ache for the other woman like she had when Neena had first gone. The longer Neena was away, the calmer and more tranquil Tanishe became. An anger had settled, a feeling of being used, of not being enough. Hasani didn’t make her feel like that. Not now, anyway, that she was the only wife again. Now she had his whole attention and she rolled her hips on him in grateful affection.
For a little while they didn’t speak, too wrapped up in the moment for more thoughts. Tanishe’s expression contorted for a second time that morning as she came, contracting around him, and holding herself perfectly still while she basked in the feeling that was stronger this time around. Hasani’s hands were warm against her thighs and she remained there, hands on his chest, eyes finally resting on him when he called her beautiful. She thought him so, too, but didn’t use the same word.
“And you,” she said slowly, purringly as she extended herself atop him to wrap her arms around his neck again, dropping kisses along his jaw and lips and cheeks. “Are perfect.” Sated and happy, her thoughts were now turning towards food and the preparing of it. “What shall I make for you, husband?”
These mornings were not uncommon. Born from long years of affection for one another, she couldn’t imagine that they would change. At least, not change again. They had for a time when he’d married Neena. While the relationship was still new and alluring, Tanishe had not been part of it. That had hurt unexpectedly much. Perhaps it shouldn’t have. Most men took two wives and she knew she was not so very special that she could or would be all to him; at least at the time. They loved each other true enough but men always, always wanted more and Hasani was no different.
She’d had to lay alone and listen to another woman’s rapid panting breaths and her husband’s familiar harsh one in the small hours of the morning when they assumed she was asleep. But, thankfully, probably shamefully, that had changed quite quickly. Because Hasani did love her, and probably out of morbid curiosity, he’d had her join them. What began as an experiment turned into a triad that none of them anticipated loving quite as much as they did.
She thought of Neena sometimes, times like now when she could taste herself on Hasani’s tongue, but she didn’t ache for the other woman like she had when Neena had first gone. The longer Neena was away, the calmer and more tranquil Tanishe became. An anger had settled, a feeling of being used, of not being enough. Hasani didn’t make her feel like that. Not now, anyway, that she was the only wife again. Now she had his whole attention and she rolled her hips on him in grateful affection.
For a little while they didn’t speak, too wrapped up in the moment for more thoughts. Tanishe’s expression contorted for a second time that morning as she came, contracting around him, and holding herself perfectly still while she basked in the feeling that was stronger this time around. Hasani’s hands were warm against her thighs and she remained there, hands on his chest, eyes finally resting on him when he called her beautiful. She thought him so, too, but didn’t use the same word.
“And you,” she said slowly, purringly as she extended herself atop him to wrap her arms around his neck again, dropping kisses along his jaw and lips and cheeks. “Are perfect.” Sated and happy, her thoughts were now turning towards food and the preparing of it. “What shall I make for you, husband?”
Hasani loved feeling this close to his wife. Being this close was intimate, and that was all that he ever truly sought in women. He didn't lay with his wife or Neena because he was lustful and insatiable. He laid with them because he craved the intimacy. The gentleness that came with making love to someone who had his heart. Neena had had his heart, a long time ago. But now that she was gone, it was hard to love a ghost, and he had never truly loved her the way that he would always long for Tanishe. That had been the difference between wives.
Neena had been brought in out of curiosity and wonder and her being wholly different from other women that he had met before. But Tanishe... he had married her because he loved her. He loved her and they had held a deep friendship long before they had come together as man and wife. If Tanishe was gone, he would always long for her. He missed her when she wasn't in his sight. He felt the familiar churning of anxiety when there was something amiss and he knew not of how she fared in a single moment.
Hasani really didn't wonder about Neena. She was gone, and her memories were memories. The leier was content to love his wife, and only his wife, his gaze not having strayed to other women since. That was a relief, if only because loving and caring for two women had almost been taxing. Never had he ever wanted one to feel better than the other, but he knew deep down that he had hurt his Tanishe. She never would have admitted it, but there had been times when she could see it in her eyes. Because eyes spoke where words and lips could not.
Here and now, however, Hasani was smiling blissfully up at his wife, both of his hands sliding up from her thighs to rest on her sides. The man kissed her lightly, humming quietly to her in a soft rumble. "I will eat anything you make me. Food is nothing to be picky about," the man reminded her softly, taking that moment to pepper her cheeks with kisses before finally pressing his lips against her temple, his eyes fluttering closed. "But I think I would like stew," he told her, not really expecting her to make what he wanted. He truly would eat whatever she made, no matter what it was.
"Do you need me to fetch anything for breakfast?" Hasani finally asked, a little tired now that he'd gotten her off twice.
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Hasani loved feeling this close to his wife. Being this close was intimate, and that was all that he ever truly sought in women. He didn't lay with his wife or Neena because he was lustful and insatiable. He laid with them because he craved the intimacy. The gentleness that came with making love to someone who had his heart. Neena had had his heart, a long time ago. But now that she was gone, it was hard to love a ghost, and he had never truly loved her the way that he would always long for Tanishe. That had been the difference between wives.
Neena had been brought in out of curiosity and wonder and her being wholly different from other women that he had met before. But Tanishe... he had married her because he loved her. He loved her and they had held a deep friendship long before they had come together as man and wife. If Tanishe was gone, he would always long for her. He missed her when she wasn't in his sight. He felt the familiar churning of anxiety when there was something amiss and he knew not of how she fared in a single moment.
Hasani really didn't wonder about Neena. She was gone, and her memories were memories. The leier was content to love his wife, and only his wife, his gaze not having strayed to other women since. That was a relief, if only because loving and caring for two women had almost been taxing. Never had he ever wanted one to feel better than the other, but he knew deep down that he had hurt his Tanishe. She never would have admitted it, but there had been times when she could see it in her eyes. Because eyes spoke where words and lips could not.
Here and now, however, Hasani was smiling blissfully up at his wife, both of his hands sliding up from her thighs to rest on her sides. The man kissed her lightly, humming quietly to her in a soft rumble. "I will eat anything you make me. Food is nothing to be picky about," the man reminded her softly, taking that moment to pepper her cheeks with kisses before finally pressing his lips against her temple, his eyes fluttering closed. "But I think I would like stew," he told her, not really expecting her to make what he wanted. He truly would eat whatever she made, no matter what it was.
"Do you need me to fetch anything for breakfast?" Hasani finally asked, a little tired now that he'd gotten her off twice.
Hasani loved feeling this close to his wife. Being this close was intimate, and that was all that he ever truly sought in women. He didn't lay with his wife or Neena because he was lustful and insatiable. He laid with them because he craved the intimacy. The gentleness that came with making love to someone who had his heart. Neena had had his heart, a long time ago. But now that she was gone, it was hard to love a ghost, and he had never truly loved her the way that he would always long for Tanishe. That had been the difference between wives.
Neena had been brought in out of curiosity and wonder and her being wholly different from other women that he had met before. But Tanishe... he had married her because he loved her. He loved her and they had held a deep friendship long before they had come together as man and wife. If Tanishe was gone, he would always long for her. He missed her when she wasn't in his sight. He felt the familiar churning of anxiety when there was something amiss and he knew not of how she fared in a single moment.
Hasani really didn't wonder about Neena. She was gone, and her memories were memories. The leier was content to love his wife, and only his wife, his gaze not having strayed to other women since. That was a relief, if only because loving and caring for two women had almost been taxing. Never had he ever wanted one to feel better than the other, but he knew deep down that he had hurt his Tanishe. She never would have admitted it, but there had been times when she could see it in her eyes. Because eyes spoke where words and lips could not.
Here and now, however, Hasani was smiling blissfully up at his wife, both of his hands sliding up from her thighs to rest on her sides. The man kissed her lightly, humming quietly to her in a soft rumble. "I will eat anything you make me. Food is nothing to be picky about," the man reminded her softly, taking that moment to pepper her cheeks with kisses before finally pressing his lips against her temple, his eyes fluttering closed. "But I think I would like stew," he told her, not really expecting her to make what he wanted. He truly would eat whatever she made, no matter what it was.
"Do you need me to fetch anything for breakfast?" Hasani finally asked, a little tired now that he'd gotten her off twice.
Stew. She could do that. Probably? She’d have to look. Rising up from her husband, she twisted off the bed roll and moved across the carpeted interior towards their food stores. Grains she kept in wide clay jars, ready to be ground into flour or popped into a gruel. There was a small pot with a precious store of honeycomb she’d found a year or so ago. Getting that had been quite the endeavor but she’d managed in the end. Really, she should have traded it but she couldn’t bring herself.
“I can make stew, Hasani,” she said, her voice calm but cheerful. Kneeling naked before the jars, she must have looked funny, with her bare back and her toes poking out beneath her buttocks. But then, just as she was about to lift the lid from the grain jar, her stomach lurched. Tanishe clenched her teeth together, pressed her lips into a line so thin they disappeared, and turned immediately for her discarded kaftan.
It was barely over her head before she darted out of the tent. One of their neighbors got a fleeting view of her breasts and the triangle of hair between her legs as she pulled the garment down. She darted barefoot away from the tent and barely got past the last of them before she was doubled over, vomiting up last night’s supper into the tall grasses of the savannah. Tanishe wanted to hide it from Hasani but right then, bent over, hands on her knees, retching a second time, there wasn’t a lot she could do.
The old woman whose tent she’d streaked past toddled over to her and lay a gnarled hand on the Leierin’s back. ”With child again, your graciousness?” Tanishe turned her head, eyed the thousand wrinkles of the old woman’s face, then felt her eyes glaze over as her body wracked again. She barely managed to point her head back towards the ground to let out another wet round of vomit. The old woman smiled briefly and patted her. ”There, there. Let it out.”
Beyond them, an acacia tree rippled in the soft warm breezes. Grasses whispered and Tanishe wanted to cry. Hasani would have kept the secret but with such a public emptying of her stomach, there was no way to hide it from anyone else. They would all know again and they would all see her lose the baby. Again. The fact that her tribe members were privy to such losses was both a comfort and a shame. She knew that people loved her as their leierin but at the same time, she also knew that they whispered about her - that there had to be reasons she was unable to bear children. One particularly vicious rumor that sometimes surfaced was that she was actively aborting the babies. That had hurt. That one had really hurt.
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Stew. She could do that. Probably? She’d have to look. Rising up from her husband, she twisted off the bed roll and moved across the carpeted interior towards their food stores. Grains she kept in wide clay jars, ready to be ground into flour or popped into a gruel. There was a small pot with a precious store of honeycomb she’d found a year or so ago. Getting that had been quite the endeavor but she’d managed in the end. Really, she should have traded it but she couldn’t bring herself.
“I can make stew, Hasani,” she said, her voice calm but cheerful. Kneeling naked before the jars, she must have looked funny, with her bare back and her toes poking out beneath her buttocks. But then, just as she was about to lift the lid from the grain jar, her stomach lurched. Tanishe clenched her teeth together, pressed her lips into a line so thin they disappeared, and turned immediately for her discarded kaftan.
It was barely over her head before she darted out of the tent. One of their neighbors got a fleeting view of her breasts and the triangle of hair between her legs as she pulled the garment down. She darted barefoot away from the tent and barely got past the last of them before she was doubled over, vomiting up last night’s supper into the tall grasses of the savannah. Tanishe wanted to hide it from Hasani but right then, bent over, hands on her knees, retching a second time, there wasn’t a lot she could do.
The old woman whose tent she’d streaked past toddled over to her and lay a gnarled hand on the Leierin’s back. ”With child again, your graciousness?” Tanishe turned her head, eyed the thousand wrinkles of the old woman’s face, then felt her eyes glaze over as her body wracked again. She barely managed to point her head back towards the ground to let out another wet round of vomit. The old woman smiled briefly and patted her. ”There, there. Let it out.”
Beyond them, an acacia tree rippled in the soft warm breezes. Grasses whispered and Tanishe wanted to cry. Hasani would have kept the secret but with such a public emptying of her stomach, there was no way to hide it from anyone else. They would all know again and they would all see her lose the baby. Again. The fact that her tribe members were privy to such losses was both a comfort and a shame. She knew that people loved her as their leierin but at the same time, she also knew that they whispered about her - that there had to be reasons she was unable to bear children. One particularly vicious rumor that sometimes surfaced was that she was actively aborting the babies. That had hurt. That one had really hurt.
Stew. She could do that. Probably? She’d have to look. Rising up from her husband, she twisted off the bed roll and moved across the carpeted interior towards their food stores. Grains she kept in wide clay jars, ready to be ground into flour or popped into a gruel. There was a small pot with a precious store of honeycomb she’d found a year or so ago. Getting that had been quite the endeavor but she’d managed in the end. Really, she should have traded it but she couldn’t bring herself.
“I can make stew, Hasani,” she said, her voice calm but cheerful. Kneeling naked before the jars, she must have looked funny, with her bare back and her toes poking out beneath her buttocks. But then, just as she was about to lift the lid from the grain jar, her stomach lurched. Tanishe clenched her teeth together, pressed her lips into a line so thin they disappeared, and turned immediately for her discarded kaftan.
It was barely over her head before she darted out of the tent. One of their neighbors got a fleeting view of her breasts and the triangle of hair between her legs as she pulled the garment down. She darted barefoot away from the tent and barely got past the last of them before she was doubled over, vomiting up last night’s supper into the tall grasses of the savannah. Tanishe wanted to hide it from Hasani but right then, bent over, hands on her knees, retching a second time, there wasn’t a lot she could do.
The old woman whose tent she’d streaked past toddled over to her and lay a gnarled hand on the Leierin’s back. ”With child again, your graciousness?” Tanishe turned her head, eyed the thousand wrinkles of the old woman’s face, then felt her eyes glaze over as her body wracked again. She barely managed to point her head back towards the ground to let out another wet round of vomit. The old woman smiled briefly and patted her. ”There, there. Let it out.”
Beyond them, an acacia tree rippled in the soft warm breezes. Grasses whispered and Tanishe wanted to cry. Hasani would have kept the secret but with such a public emptying of her stomach, there was no way to hide it from anyone else. They would all know again and they would all see her lose the baby. Again. The fact that her tribe members were privy to such losses was both a comfort and a shame. She knew that people loved her as their leierin but at the same time, she also knew that they whispered about her - that there had to be reasons she was unable to bear children. One particularly vicious rumor that sometimes surfaced was that she was actively aborting the babies. That had hurt. That one had really hurt.
Hasani had stretched out a little and then looked for a discarded cloth to clean himself up. He was still basking a bit in the heavy glow of the morning, his dark eyes wandering the form of his wife with an affectionate expression on his features. He loved her. He did. Far more than he had ever loved anyone or anything in his live. Tanishe was his entire world, and she was the reason that he even kept moving. One foot in front of the other. On and on and on for eternity.
Humming to himself with happiness at the thought of stew, that thought suddenly disconnected as Tanishe suddenly lurched to her feet, grabbed her kaftan, and then ran out of their hawe. Jolting upward, Hasani was suddenly frowning, pushing himself to his feet and reached for the light linen pants that he often wore. He slide them on and looked for his sandals, slipping his feet inside and then hurrying after her.
He was close enough as he caught up that he watched his wife vomit into the sand. More than once. At first, he really wanted to make a face, not liking the thought that she was ill. Hasani would have to send her to the healing tents to see someone about it, but he did not make it to her side before the little elder wandered out of her own tent to sooth the leierin.
"With child again, your graciousness?"
Hasani stopped dead, trying to count in his head. How long had it been since they had lost the last one? Would they really be forced to lose another child so soon? This would surely make both of them heartsick. Again. But he would not show any disappointment this time. This was the way of things now. They were not meant to have children, and they wouldn't. In all of their years of marriage, that had been made readily apparent to both of them.
And he was not going to risk the peace he had found in their relationship because he hoped to have a child.
Approaching slowly, he stood on Tanishe's other side, his hand spreading against her lower back with a gentle tenderness reserved only for her. His broad form helped to shield her back from the rest of the tribe, his fingers moving gently back and forth, hoping to soothe her in deep silence. His dark gaze drifted to the old woman, his gaze expressing his deep thanks that she had been there.
"When we get back to the tent, I'll fetch you some ginger tea," the man murmured softly, still working to soothe her nerves and her stomach, as if touch could do all of that and more.
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Hasani had stretched out a little and then looked for a discarded cloth to clean himself up. He was still basking a bit in the heavy glow of the morning, his dark eyes wandering the form of his wife with an affectionate expression on his features. He loved her. He did. Far more than he had ever loved anyone or anything in his live. Tanishe was his entire world, and she was the reason that he even kept moving. One foot in front of the other. On and on and on for eternity.
Humming to himself with happiness at the thought of stew, that thought suddenly disconnected as Tanishe suddenly lurched to her feet, grabbed her kaftan, and then ran out of their hawe. Jolting upward, Hasani was suddenly frowning, pushing himself to his feet and reached for the light linen pants that he often wore. He slide them on and looked for his sandals, slipping his feet inside and then hurrying after her.
He was close enough as he caught up that he watched his wife vomit into the sand. More than once. At first, he really wanted to make a face, not liking the thought that she was ill. Hasani would have to send her to the healing tents to see someone about it, but he did not make it to her side before the little elder wandered out of her own tent to sooth the leierin.
"With child again, your graciousness?"
Hasani stopped dead, trying to count in his head. How long had it been since they had lost the last one? Would they really be forced to lose another child so soon? This would surely make both of them heartsick. Again. But he would not show any disappointment this time. This was the way of things now. They were not meant to have children, and they wouldn't. In all of their years of marriage, that had been made readily apparent to both of them.
And he was not going to risk the peace he had found in their relationship because he hoped to have a child.
Approaching slowly, he stood on Tanishe's other side, his hand spreading against her lower back with a gentle tenderness reserved only for her. His broad form helped to shield her back from the rest of the tribe, his fingers moving gently back and forth, hoping to soothe her in deep silence. His dark gaze drifted to the old woman, his gaze expressing his deep thanks that she had been there.
"When we get back to the tent, I'll fetch you some ginger tea," the man murmured softly, still working to soothe her nerves and her stomach, as if touch could do all of that and more.
Hasani had stretched out a little and then looked for a discarded cloth to clean himself up. He was still basking a bit in the heavy glow of the morning, his dark eyes wandering the form of his wife with an affectionate expression on his features. He loved her. He did. Far more than he had ever loved anyone or anything in his live. Tanishe was his entire world, and she was the reason that he even kept moving. One foot in front of the other. On and on and on for eternity.
Humming to himself with happiness at the thought of stew, that thought suddenly disconnected as Tanishe suddenly lurched to her feet, grabbed her kaftan, and then ran out of their hawe. Jolting upward, Hasani was suddenly frowning, pushing himself to his feet and reached for the light linen pants that he often wore. He slide them on and looked for his sandals, slipping his feet inside and then hurrying after her.
He was close enough as he caught up that he watched his wife vomit into the sand. More than once. At first, he really wanted to make a face, not liking the thought that she was ill. Hasani would have to send her to the healing tents to see someone about it, but he did not make it to her side before the little elder wandered out of her own tent to sooth the leierin.
"With child again, your graciousness?"
Hasani stopped dead, trying to count in his head. How long had it been since they had lost the last one? Would they really be forced to lose another child so soon? This would surely make both of them heartsick. Again. But he would not show any disappointment this time. This was the way of things now. They were not meant to have children, and they wouldn't. In all of their years of marriage, that had been made readily apparent to both of them.
And he was not going to risk the peace he had found in their relationship because he hoped to have a child.
Approaching slowly, he stood on Tanishe's other side, his hand spreading against her lower back with a gentle tenderness reserved only for her. His broad form helped to shield her back from the rest of the tribe, his fingers moving gently back and forth, hoping to soothe her in deep silence. His dark gaze drifted to the old woman, his gaze expressing his deep thanks that she had been there.
"When we get back to the tent, I'll fetch you some ginger tea," the man murmured softly, still working to soothe her nerves and her stomach, as if touch could do all of that and more.
A breeze ruffled the fabric against her calves and she was glad of it. The wind carried the smell away into the savannah, away from tents and the old woman and herself. What she wished she wasn’t hearing was the rapid crunch, crunch, crunch of Hasani’s heavy footfalls. She didn’t need to turn around to know that his face was a mask of concern or that it was even him. She’d know his stride anywhere. Besides that, she’d left the tent in such a blind hurry that he’d have been a simpleton indeed not to be at least a little concerned.
At the time, running was all she’d thought about. If she’d had the option, Tanishe would have casually donned her kaftan, slipped her feet into sandals, made some excuse, and left the tent. That would not have triggered the avalanche of concern she was receiving now - treatment she did not want. But she didn’t shove off the soft hand on her back, instead she remained staring down into the messy grass.
Her husband’s hand smoothed down her back and she turned her head only enough to catch sight of his body, up to his chest but not his face. Her profile would be fully visible to him, though and he’d see her eyes studying the patterns of his garment. That was her favorite shirt of his - bright green, like new leaves. She loved the colors of new life.
“When we get back to the tent, I'll fetch you some ginger tea,” he said. It was kind of him not to say more than that and it was that kindness that prompted her to raise back up. Her stomach was not settling down but she felt more in control. With a silent nod and a hand on her abdomen, she turned with him and trudged the long way back to the hawe. It felt like it took forever, at any rate, because of all the now open tent flaps they passed. Sometimes children looked up at them from doorways, sometimes friends and neighbors called good morning. Tanishe smiled and nodded to each but said nothing.
When they finally reached their own home, she settled down on the carpeted floor but didn’t begin to make the tea. She hadn’t even drawn water yet for stew. Her eyes wandered to the black lacquered box with all her carvings in it to symbolize all her past failed pregnancies. She didn’t want to carve another...ever.
“Honey with the ginger,” was what came out of her mouth for her husband, however. She didn’t want to discuss this morning’s vomiting episode or their hopes and dreams or their dashed wishes and crushed plans. “Once I’m better I will take up my duties in the medical hawe.” Talking of normal things would force life to be normal.
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A breeze ruffled the fabric against her calves and she was glad of it. The wind carried the smell away into the savannah, away from tents and the old woman and herself. What she wished she wasn’t hearing was the rapid crunch, crunch, crunch of Hasani’s heavy footfalls. She didn’t need to turn around to know that his face was a mask of concern or that it was even him. She’d know his stride anywhere. Besides that, she’d left the tent in such a blind hurry that he’d have been a simpleton indeed not to be at least a little concerned.
At the time, running was all she’d thought about. If she’d had the option, Tanishe would have casually donned her kaftan, slipped her feet into sandals, made some excuse, and left the tent. That would not have triggered the avalanche of concern she was receiving now - treatment she did not want. But she didn’t shove off the soft hand on her back, instead she remained staring down into the messy grass.
Her husband’s hand smoothed down her back and she turned her head only enough to catch sight of his body, up to his chest but not his face. Her profile would be fully visible to him, though and he’d see her eyes studying the patterns of his garment. That was her favorite shirt of his - bright green, like new leaves. She loved the colors of new life.
“When we get back to the tent, I'll fetch you some ginger tea,” he said. It was kind of him not to say more than that and it was that kindness that prompted her to raise back up. Her stomach was not settling down but she felt more in control. With a silent nod and a hand on her abdomen, she turned with him and trudged the long way back to the hawe. It felt like it took forever, at any rate, because of all the now open tent flaps they passed. Sometimes children looked up at them from doorways, sometimes friends and neighbors called good morning. Tanishe smiled and nodded to each but said nothing.
When they finally reached their own home, she settled down on the carpeted floor but didn’t begin to make the tea. She hadn’t even drawn water yet for stew. Her eyes wandered to the black lacquered box with all her carvings in it to symbolize all her past failed pregnancies. She didn’t want to carve another...ever.
“Honey with the ginger,” was what came out of her mouth for her husband, however. She didn’t want to discuss this morning’s vomiting episode or their hopes and dreams or their dashed wishes and crushed plans. “Once I’m better I will take up my duties in the medical hawe.” Talking of normal things would force life to be normal.
A breeze ruffled the fabric against her calves and she was glad of it. The wind carried the smell away into the savannah, away from tents and the old woman and herself. What she wished she wasn’t hearing was the rapid crunch, crunch, crunch of Hasani’s heavy footfalls. She didn’t need to turn around to know that his face was a mask of concern or that it was even him. She’d know his stride anywhere. Besides that, she’d left the tent in such a blind hurry that he’d have been a simpleton indeed not to be at least a little concerned.
At the time, running was all she’d thought about. If she’d had the option, Tanishe would have casually donned her kaftan, slipped her feet into sandals, made some excuse, and left the tent. That would not have triggered the avalanche of concern she was receiving now - treatment she did not want. But she didn’t shove off the soft hand on her back, instead she remained staring down into the messy grass.
Her husband’s hand smoothed down her back and she turned her head only enough to catch sight of his body, up to his chest but not his face. Her profile would be fully visible to him, though and he’d see her eyes studying the patterns of his garment. That was her favorite shirt of his - bright green, like new leaves. She loved the colors of new life.
“When we get back to the tent, I'll fetch you some ginger tea,” he said. It was kind of him not to say more than that and it was that kindness that prompted her to raise back up. Her stomach was not settling down but she felt more in control. With a silent nod and a hand on her abdomen, she turned with him and trudged the long way back to the hawe. It felt like it took forever, at any rate, because of all the now open tent flaps they passed. Sometimes children looked up at them from doorways, sometimes friends and neighbors called good morning. Tanishe smiled and nodded to each but said nothing.
When they finally reached their own home, she settled down on the carpeted floor but didn’t begin to make the tea. She hadn’t even drawn water yet for stew. Her eyes wandered to the black lacquered box with all her carvings in it to symbolize all her past failed pregnancies. She didn’t want to carve another...ever.
“Honey with the ginger,” was what came out of her mouth for her husband, however. She didn’t want to discuss this morning’s vomiting episode or their hopes and dreams or their dashed wishes and crushed plans. “Once I’m better I will take up my duties in the medical hawe.” Talking of normal things would force life to be normal.
