Afterwards (Ayatah)

[Razkar]

24th Day of Fall, 509AV
6th Bell

In the years that followed, when Razkar would reach back into his memories, half-afraid, half-longing, and choose one to warm himself, he would always start with this one. It was not the only one of its kind, but that one, that first one, that original and unique moment when the sun had barely risen and he was awake... that would stay with him. Through pain and blood and horror and rage, it would stand like a mountain before a raging sea.

He felt dreams slide away, vanish into the smoke of his subconscious. He could feel again, in that solid, certain way the waking world always is. Then he felt his eyes, and they opened...

... and he saw her. Lying on her side, towards him, face a picture of peaceful rest. She was naked and swaddled in furs, like him, and though the birthing sunlight had barely begun to breach the canopy, he could see every feature on her face. The read, swollen lips, now half-open in dream. Masses of black hair that curled and tangled around her head, framing her face perfectly. A sharp, shapely nose that crinkled slightly-

Razkar smiled. He had an idea, but before he went ahead with it, he reached out... felt the warmth of her shoulder, that impossible softness of her skin. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

She was real. OK. Now he could continue with his day.

And he blew, very gently, at her nose. It crinkled and she frowned and so he stopped... and then did it again. Now she snuffled and reached up blindly to swat away the invisible bug her body mindlessly assumed was bothering her. Ah, that seemed to get it.

Razkar leaned forwards and kissed the tip of it, and when he opened his eyes again, sleepy brown ones were staring back at him.

"Good morning, Aya."

[Ayatah]

Her sleep had been perfectly peaceful and content - simply so, but at the same time, quite beautifully. Her dreams had reflected this; basic and warm, more like fond memories than her subconscious going wild whilst her body rested. She had been ferociously exhausted after the day’s activities, and sleep had come easy to her.

It had been made even easier by the other warm body next to her.

The jungle was not cold, not even at night. The overhang from the trees trapped in sweat and heat. So even without the sun, one would certainly not suffer from a chill. But regardless of the clammy conditions, Ayatah had found herself huddling her body against his - but not for warmth. Simply to be close, to feel the heat from his body emanating across the bed to her. There was something incredibly comforting about the feel of him, and she had fallen to sleep with a small smile on her lips. Feeling him there throughout the night, in the blank darkness, meant more to Ayatah than she could understand, let alone put into words.

Her conscious was provoked by a light breeze on her nose. Still half-asleep, she reached a hand to bat away the pestering bug, and just as sleep was carrying her away again --

A kiss, so soft, on the tip of her nose.

She knew then that the tingling sensation on her nose a few chimes ago was not from a bug at all, but from him. I much prefer kisses she thought drowsily, but smiled all the same.

"Good morning, Aya."

She shuffled towards him, hands going to his chest and body pressed against his. ”Morning,” she was still somnolent, and made a tired, appreciative little noise at the warmth of his body. Even though their nakedness was pressed against each other, there was little lust at that moment - just affection, and a want to be close. ”How’re you feeling?” Just the small movement of shuffling closer to him had woken some new aches and pains in Ayatah’s body -- but it was worth it.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”How’re you feeling?”

His smile spread, and it was not just because of her body pressed flush against his. Every inch of her was soft and warm, sending tingles of contentment and memory flashing across his body. The lust they'd had for each other at night had been (very pleasurably and rigorously) slaked, though. It was still there, smoldering in their loins, but now there was only the satisfaction and happiness of being with each other. Close to each other.

Razkar resisted the urge to shake his head. He always rolled his eyes at the boys and girls that fell in love. What did that have to do with being a Myrian warrior, he always muttered? Such a life is one of blood and death, and rightly so. Where can softness and compassion be a part of that?

It took many years for him to realize that without the gentler notions of the soul, like Myri's love for her people, her compassion for every Myrian that walked Mizahar, a warrior was little more than a killer.

But what truly warmed him that morning, sticky and humid even now, was her question. That it was that, for one thing. Barely awake and her first thought was for his safety. He nodded slowly, her head tucked under his chin. That made him smile, too: she was one of few females shorter than him. His bruises and bumps from yesterday were healed, but she-

"I'm feeling better," he said, moving the furs to one side and regretfully turning her onto her back. Her scars were still livid, but healing well. He ran his fingertip across the ragged, rough wounds, clashing with soft, paler-than-most-Myrians flesh. "Yours are, too."

A hand reached up and cupped his face. He let her warmth linger there, her touch that made his eyes empty of all but his feelings for her. Then he took it in his own hand and kissed the back of it... and then her lips.

But then, he sighed.

"Nearly sun up, Aya." He said, a trace of iron in his voice, for he knew that they should both know what that meant to Myrians. "Time to get up. Plenty to be done..."

[Ayatah]

"Yours are, too."

She nodded, silent. Her own fingers brushed over her stomach. The wounds would no doubt scar her skin for life, but they were certainly en route to healing. Despite the terror that had racked through Ayatah’s heart the moment that tiger swiped at her, there was a tiny part of her that would forever attach those scars with happiness. Not with the tiger itself, but with the entirety of that day, and what had resulted from it.

Her hand moved from her stomach to his face, and she felt a glowing warmth from the way he looked at her. She had had heard other woman whisper about the way that their respective lovers looked at them, but had never truly understood the concept. But now she understood. She understood how a simple look from another person could mean everything.

His lips brushed hers, and she melted into the kiss willingly. A hand went to the back of his neck, pulling him ever closer --

Until he backed away, saying "Time to get up. Plenty to be done..."

Ayatah sighed and nodded. Their people were a busy race, and laziness was simply not accepted. There would indeed be things to do, and the two of them had retired earlier the night before than any of the other Short Skulls. They would be expected to get a head start on the daily chores.

But it would be so easy to simply escape and hide with him, to remain under the covers simply kissing and talking and enjoying each other’s bodies as they had done the night before. But no - it was not possible. And as much as she enjoyed lying naked with him, Ayatah knew that simply being with him, in his village, with his family and clan members, would be enough.

Slowly, she nodded and rolled out of the bed, still completely naked. She leaned back to the bed, and kissed his lips softly. ”Best get up, then.” And she tapped his chest lightly, a playful smirk on her lips. She turned away from the bed, and began searching for her clothes.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

To Myrians living outside Taloba, the idea of time-telling was somewhat unnecessary. You rose when the sun did, you did your chores, hunted, traveled, lived and loved, and then by the time the sun set, you were back with your clan. It really was that simple; just a matter of learning by experience how long certain tasks would take. Of course they still knew what it was, the idea of bells and chimes and whatnot, it was just... relative.

Case in point: when the sun rose above the Shorn Skulls village, it was time for work, and anyone who was still in bed after the first risers had vanished into the treeline... well... family was family, but there were limits. Violence would follow.

Second case in point: Razkar watched Ayatah walk across the room to ind her clothes, giving him the best seat's in the house, his lips still wet and electric from that final kiss. With a growl he got to his feet and by the time Ayatah's ears had processed the sound, his body was pressed against her back, hard pectorals against her spine...

A hard something else pulsating against her rear.

"You tease too much, Aya," he growled into her ear, left hand sliding around to her stomach, right hand moving up her side by the fingertips, disappearing behind her head, "One day, it's going to be the end of you."

He grabbed a handful of hair and gripped it just tight enough to give her the illusion of pain there... and the memory of it. What passed between them that night was not all sweet and slow and affectionate. They were young Myrians, with more than their share of aggression and sexual tension wrapped up in bodies born for physical exertion.

Razkar was reminded of something he parents told him: sparring and lovemaking are the same thing to Myrians. Of course the person telling him that was his father with his mother in the hut, so he hadn't responded too... tactfully.

"We could stay a little longer," he whispered, left hand moving up so gently, tantalizing her with his fingertips caressing under her bare breasts, "Just long enough..."

Her hands whipped behind him and grabbed something... important. He thought he'd lose control right there, just having her hands on him... but when his eyes opened again, a warning finger was being wagged in front of his face.

So Razkar contented himself with a mock-surly growl and patting her rear.

"Fine, fine. Work first. But you owe me."

He turned away, smirking, and began looking for a fresh loincloth. First things first: cleanliness, and there was a creek not far that his clan used for that very purpose. Then he would find his father, and their day would begin.

[Ayatah]

He was behind her before she realised, his breath hot in her ear and his body pressed up to hers. A smirk came to her lips as he spoke - though she didn’t verbally reply. Instead, she simply lent forward to pick up a piece of her clothing, allowing the friction between their bodies to speak for her. I tease too little, she couldn’t help but think as she heard him growl once again.

Such a… beastlike noise emitted from his throat - and it sent excited shivered down her spine.

There were huge amounts of animalistic passion in how he touched her, and her body responded with it’s own wild lust. The feel of his fingers gripping her hair, giving the slightest of pulls… it certainly excited her sexually…

But she would not let him have the upper hand.

"We could stay a little longer… Just long enough..."

Her hand snaked around to his hardness, and she let out a small chuckle when she heard him draw sharp breath at her touch there. She turned around, a deadly, sultry look in her eyes. Whilst her hand remained in the very specialized location, she lent forward and held her lips near his ear, ”I best make tonight worth the wait, then.” Her lips brushed his ear lobe, and she held her body delightfully close to his, that hand of hers still there --

And then she backed away, retracted her hand, and held a finger up to him, as if in scolding, ”you said there were things to do. Best get them done before we enjoy ourselves.” She flashed him a playful grin, and winked.

"Fine, fine. Work first. But you owe me."

Ayatah gave him a look, her head tilted to one side as if in innocence, ”I don’t know what you possibly mean.” She slipped her clothing on, and began to pin her hair out of her face and off her neck - merely moving within the hut in the humidity of the jungle had made her skin glisten slightly with sweat. When she was dressed, she turned to face him, traces of lust and want off her face - though her mind flickered back to mental images of this grinding against each other. Her youth, his youth, their attraction to each other... it certainly showed in their sex drives - it was a thing that her elder relatives told her to enjoy whilst she could.

And Ayatah certainly meant to. But not now; now was for jobs, chores. They had to be done, and whilst she was a visitor in the Shorn Skulls' village, she would pull her weight.

”Now, how can I be of assistance?”

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”Now, how can I be of assistance?”

Razkar couldnt keep the smirk off his face as he leaned against the doorframe to the hut, arms crossed over his chest.

"Well, I could think of a few-"

"Ahem!"

"Oh, fine, fine..." He scratched his cheek as he ran over the myriad of chores they'd need to get done. He had heard that the barbarian people had hair grow from their faces. Not like eyebrows but like... hair, on the top of the head, but on their chins and under their nose and their cheeks. He counted himself luck to be a Myrian. "Fishing and hunting are always important, in Kandukta and outside the village. We form parties for both and get moving early. Fishing nets need to be repaired, I heard my father say that. Some of the young ones need training, and... patrol duty. That's always chosen in the morning. Generally half-a-dozen in the fang. My second cousin needs help finishing his longhouse, Lowax needs help gathering herbs for the healers."

He finally stopped for a breath, giving her a sheepish little smile. Then it occurred to him: he had told her about their patrols. How many, when they were chosen... who else would he trust outside his clan to know that? It stunned him like a blow to the head would have done, not just the act but the ralization.

You care for her. You're hopelessly attracted to her. You trust her. So, if you feel all of that, then you must-

No, he cut the voice off before it finished, struggling to keep his face genial. He couldn't. He'd known her for days, not even a week, or a month, a year. Who was he to think he felt... that?

"Anyway, we'd better go!" He said, perhaps a little too hurriedly, grabbing a couple of deer-skin towels and tossing one to her. "First, we bathe. Don't take too long, we need to be back in the square directly. Then the Elders will set our tasks for us."

[Ayatah]

Ayatah folded her arms, one of her eyebrows arched - but a mischievous smile on her face as he corrected himself. ”I’m sure you can think of a myriad of ‘chores’ we can do together, but they’re not quite what your clan would see as helpful…” She perched herself on the edge of the bed, one hand on her healing stomach - it still stung a little when she sat down or stood up - and watched him intently.

Then she listened as he reeled off the list of tasks that there would to do. It was certainly extensive, but no different to the usual things that needed to be done within a Myrian clan. Some of the tasks - fishing and hunting - would be done every other day or so, depending on the amount of food in storage. Repairing and building tools and homes were obviously done as and when they were needed, though decidedly less than hunting and gathering. Everything else fell in between the roles of supply and demand.

Training children was a job that Ayatah had undergone herself, having helped in the teachings for her younger brother and sister. She smiled faintly at the memory of how hopeless her younger brother had been with archery (he had his father’s stubby, clumsy fingers).

He stopped speaking, and Ayatah nodded to acknowledge that she had been listening. She was about to speak - but she closed her mouth as soon as she had opened it. His smile had changed… as if he had had an unpleasant thought, and wanted to keep it from her.

”Raz… what’s wr--“

"Anyway, we'd better go!"

His words were a chime too fast to be… usual. A frown creased her brow a little. What had distracted him, and changed his tone of voice? A part of Ayatah panicked - the part of her that had made her kiss him for the first time. It was the part of herself that was very human, soft and affectionate. Perhaps it was the Eypharian blood in her, or simply the fact she was a woman. Or maybe, it was just the secret (now not-so-secret) but strong affection that she had for him. Either way, the strange look on his face and tone of his voice had certainly caused her some discomfort.

But it had not just been for herself - she almost winched at the idea that some thought of his own may have hurt him, or caused him concern.

Her fingers ran over the towels he had thrown to her, and she stood up, nodding once more. ”We best get moving then.” Her voice was soft, and when she touched his arm and kissed him, all her touches were just as gentle. Her touches were almost an attempt to be reassuring, as if to banish whatever doubts and thoughts had caused him unease.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”We best get moving then.”

Razkar sighed as he looked into her eyes and saw the concern shining in them. Foolish, trying to keep anything from a woman. It always ended in trouble. They could read faces and little hitches in your voice like a book, and one they'd read before at that.

Her kiss was as much a silent, urgent reassurance as a display of affection. He found himself leaning into it as she drew her head back, hungry for it, not wanting it to end...

Razkar sighed and rested his forehead against hers, smile on his face now tinged with sadness and uncertainty.

"It's... a lot to take in in so short a time," he said, voice low and almost pained, "Feelings I do not understand. That are... unknown to me. But I want you to be here, Aya. I do not want you to go. Not yet."

He kissed her again, a deep kiss that was a better expression of what he felt than his clumsy words could be. And one it was over, he smiled.

"Let us go."

Razkar grabbed a weapon from the entrance of the lodge out of instinct before heading outside. It was only when they were halfway to the creek that he realized it was Ayatah's dagger stuffed into his loincloth. For years, since he was a boy, it was his hand ax or gladius that went with him. Myrians were never unarmed; they felt naked without a weapon on their body or at least within reach... unnatural.

Her beautifully-crafted double-headed dagger was the first thing he had reached for. Did he even see it? Look at it? Was it just the first blade to hand, or did his hand seek it, unknowingly and unbidden? The thoughts clouded his head as they made the short journey through the foliage, the sounds of the waking village behind them until...

Water bubbling and rushing over rocks. Splashing and crashing against itself. The familiar rustlings and panicked squeaks of creatures hurrying for cover as the Two-Legs approached.

"We're here."

He smiled as they came to the creek. It winded leisurely through the jungle floor, its bed barely three feet deep in the mud and roots. Despite that, the water was clear and fresh. Razkar could smell it, and with every inhalation a fresh memory surfaced.

His mother, holding him in the flow and scolding him while he pretended to be a trout during his washing.

Days spent with his father, each male holding a spear, still and serene as the trees... until their arms snapped forwards to skewer a fish.

His cousins and sisters and brothers, bathing and splashing and playing, the air filled with laughter and jabber.

Razkar remembered all this as he stepped into the water, cold and clear, and only came back to that day when Ayatah grasped his hand. He turned to face her, relishing this small, precious moment...

Then heard the snapping twigs behind them. Others were coming.

"Time to get clean, Aya."

He stripped off to his bare skin in moments, and fell back against the water with a laugh.

[Ayatah]

"Feelings I do not understand. That are... unknown to me. But I want you to be here, Aya. I do not want you to go. Not yet."

The words mirrored her own confusion and questions. It was certainly a lot to feel, a lot to process in merely a couple of days. But… there was something comforting about it all, as much as there was terrifying.

”I understand, Raz. I… don’t completely know how to describe it all-“ there was, of course, a word, but it seemed impossibly soon for that word, ”but I… like this sensation.” She smiled up at him, her fingers intertwining with his as she spoke.

It was a completely different experience to what Ayatah had ever gone through before. But it was not necessarily a bad thing…

It was so easy to simply get lost in the enjoyment of his company, the way she felt flutters of excitement when he looked at her, and the way his lips felt against hers….

They were there now, warm and longing. She responded to the kiss as she often did - a hand on the side of his neck, her body held up to his…

Their kiss wiped away some her concerns, and his smile erased the rest of them. It was reassuring for her to see that smile; and it struck her how she seemed to be more troubled by his concerns than her own. So long as he was happy, it seemed, so was she.

"Let us go."

She watched him reach for a weapon, and saw that it was her bone-hilted dagger that his fingers grasped. Or was the dagger his now? It was difficult to say; the tradition of the Scattered Skulls was a private one, usually not shared with even family members, save for a brief description of who the weapon had been shared with. Her Great-Grandmother had never shared the tale of her own birth weapon, which Ayatah knew had been a longbow. When asked, the old woman would smile secretively and shrug her shoulders, playing the happy mime.

What Ayatah did know was that it meant a great deal for her to share the blade with him. And on a grander scale, the rest of her clan would know the importance of her action (though she was no doubt going to be asked plenty of questions as to where the dagger had gone). Whether or not she would ever acquire the dagger again didn’t matter to her. And that was a strange sensation; since her childhood, the dagger had been her most prized possession.

But the affection she had had for the blade had been transferred to something else. Or rather, someone else. In giving the dagger to him, she had admitted this to herself as much as anyone else. As a girl, she had never understood the importance of giving a weapon to someone else - and she’d actually ignorantly promised that she’d never give away her dear dagger. But now she understood it very, very clearly. It was the gesture, as opposed to the item. And it certainly meant a lot to her.

"We're here."

The creek was a pretty image; a small babbling line of water meandering through the jungle. Although not deep by any description, the constant of the flow of the water would provide a clean and fresh source of drinking and washing. And fish, of course.

She shadowed his movements, slipping her clothes off and enjoying the coolness of the water. It slipped through her fingers as she poured it over her body, and just before the rest of the clan join them - she flicked the water towards him, sparing his face in tiny, cold beads, ”that’s for calling me a tease!” Her voice was light with laughter, her lips split into a bright smile.

The coolness got to her quickly though, and despite the humidity of the forest itself, for soon found her skin prickling with goosebumps and tiny shivers running up her spine.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||