by Basha'ir on August 19th, 2012, 12:51 am
She was a little bit late. Of course, the time just after nightfall had been a bit vague, and was open to interpretation. So perhaps, really, she wasn’t technically late. But yes, night was well and fully here, the streets of the city dark except for the spots of light given off from the torches set in sconces along the walls. This was part of the problem. Basha’ir had not been in this part of the city since the day she first entered Syliras. She had asked, as discretely as she could, where this Rearing Stallion was located, after she had ascertained that it was a tavern. She had thought that she knew the way, but had ended up taking a wrong turn that seemed to have completely switched her around. It was funny, in a way, how before she knew she was a bit lost, she had reconsidered even going to the tavern with every step she took. Once she had stopped, and decided that she needed to retrace her steps and figure out where she had gone wrong, she became determined to find the damn place. Her irritation at being lost had replaced her trepidation caused by the thought of seeing Orion again. So in the end, as she finally saw the rather plain door with the sign over it, it was probably a good thing that she was perhaps later than she should have been. If she had come straight here, she might have lost her nerve altogether, turned about, and fled.
After expending the effort to find it, and him, though, she paused for only a moment, straightening her veil and pulling her padmina tighter, physical gestures reflecting an inner steeling of herself for what was to come. The butterflies in her tummy were going absolutely mad, and her hands trembled slightly. But with a steadying breath, she moved forward the last few steps, reaching for the handle to the door, and pulling it open.
It had been an emotionally fatiguing two days. Orion had bolted out of the Elegant Weave so quickly that she had no time to even consider his invitation. Or was it a command? A hasty request? Maybe it had just been a casual suggestion. She could only stare after where he had just leapt back through the now closed door, open mouthed, her lips parted in wonder and a rush of tangled emotions. And that had been just the beginning.
For the last forty-eight hours she had reexamined every single exchange that had passed between them. Every look, every nuanced word and phrase. What had been said. What hadn’t been said. And all that she could recall of what lay inside this troubled man.
Then all of that, having been processed and reprocessed, had to be analyzed in light of her gnosis, what part of Orion’s reactions to her were wholly the result of her mark. What parts, if any, were genuine. And in the end, did it really even matter? She was marked. Period. Nikali had blessed her, lifted her from the depths of her despair, and given her a gift that would ensure that Basha’ir would be happy, as long as she could touch another and know their desire and fill it. There was no way to fight it, to disarm it or get around it. So if she was attracted to Orion, if she wished to find out how things could go, without a master to dictate them to her, if she wanted to experiment, to find out if there would ever be a way to experience true desire, all her own, well, Orion’s offer to meet him again seemed as good a place to start as any. She could be nervous and rethink it a hundred times, but that wouldn’t change the fact that, until she tried, she would never know, would she?
So, after work that evening, she had returned to her tiny room and made her careful preparations. How many, many times in the past six years had she readied herself for a night to be spent in the company of a man? She knew how to dress her hair, how to paint her eyes and lips and cheeks, how to choose an outfit that would be the height of appeal, to apply perfume in strategic spots. All this she had done many times over, knowing just how to prepare herself like some exotic, rare, irresistible dish, to tempt even the most discriminating of men. But not this night. This night was for herself.
She had brushed her hair back and gathered it up into a long, full pony tail on the top of her head, tying a bright band of cloth about the base. She selected plain jewelry, taken when she had left Theodoric’s rooms along with the dresses, necklace, earrings, bracelets, anklets. The dress she chose was plain as well, a simple one of bright turquoise, but it reached to her feet and her wrists. The padmina was black, one that she had embroidered with tiny silver leaves and vines, long ago, a favorite of hers. The veil was striped silver and azure, her sandals were just simple ones, unadorned. As for makeup, she wore none whatsoever. Extreme, perhaps, but, if she truly wished to discover what attraction she held for a man, for herself alone and not because of Nikali’s gift, then she might as well do this right.
As she opened the door to the Rearing Stallion, she tried to put a confident look on her face. Glancing about, her eyes went right to him. The lighting was very dim, but there was no mistaking him, it seemed her mind had already imprinted him onto her heart. Without hesitation, though the butterflies were threatening to burst right out of her chest it seemed, she walked right to him, with an affectionate smile on her lips.
“Orion, hello.” She made no attempt to force her voice into dulcet tones but it had a natural low melodious inflection to it.
“I’m sorry I’m a bit late. I took a wrong turn.” She laughed lightly, the same bell like sound as had emanated from her that first time they met.
“How are you this evening? You’re looking well…as are your trousers.” Her smile turned to more of a grin as her eyes dropped to his pants.
But if I share my secret, you're gonna have to keep it. No-one else can see this...
