Chapter Text
With the sun hanging high in the sky, the morning fog completely cleared up. Essiya was sleeping peacefully beside Arin under the fig tree when she felt feathers tickling her skin. Startled, she sat up as her vision cleared and was immediately greeted by a single round black eye in her face, glaring. Realisation settled over her as Niseeba, the disloyal treacherous chicken, shoved its sharp beak into her face, poking her left eye.
“Ow!” Essiya shouted standing up, “Awaleen below! Niseeba, why would you–“ She swiped her finger at her nose where blood trickled down.
“Great. And I’m barely a day in from rising back from the dead.” Essiya muttered glaring at the Kitmer.
It merely stared at her.
Arin, despite her clear distress, still slept soundly against his vest that was laid on the grass patch. How tired was he? Correction, how much did I tire him? His black hair was tousled, fanning his perfectly structured face, and lines of red claw marks can be seen scattered all over his back. It was one of those rare moments where the Supreme of Nizahl appeared utterly disheveled. Messy. Beautiful(Except, that's not so rare). Essiya wondered what she would find if he slept on his back instead. Dark bruises, or what do they even call it? Love bites? Hickeys? Her mind wandered to the throes of passion they experienced a few hours ago, right before daybreak, when the world was still sleeping. The warmth she felt with him moving inside her, caressing her neck with kisses, intertwining their hands so tightly it hurt. It was as if he was still checking, confirming that she was real. She shivered at the thought.
Bringing herself back to the present, she smirked. Maybe I should flip him on his back. It’d teach him to put Disaster on a leash (She’s glad she named it that. Arguably, the best decision she ever made.) Making a beeline for Arin, Essiya reached down but was soon interrupted by Niseeba’s squeaking. Arin jolted awake. Her face fell.
“OH! Couldn’t you be more reactive when I was getting attacked by your huge vicious chicken?” She highlighted, exasperated.
His eyes scanned her face, noting the scar running down the side of her nose, then turned to look at Niseeba and back at Essiya. A slow grin began to form as he crunched forward and uncontrollable laughter burst out of him.
She might as well entomb herself again at the wave of embarrassment that flooded her insides.
“Are you done?”
Looking up, his eyes gleaming with humour, he earnestly replied, “With you? Never.”
Arin pulled her down, letting Essiya straddle him. Pushing her fringe aside, he traced the fresh wound.
“This will scar. But maybe if I kiss it away, it wouldn’t.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“Oh yeah? How’d you know? You have no idea what my magic is capable of.”
“Arin, have you somehow, gone stupid this past decade? Last I checked your lips were all over my back and I’m pretty sure the multitude of scars your mother gifted me are still there.”
Arin glared at her.
“What?”
“Not funny, Suraira.” Arin rumbled.
She grinned.
“Listen, I would love to sit here and chat but I have people I want to see, places I want to visit again. How’s Sefa? Oh God, she’s not dead right? Jeru? Lateef? Efra? Is he still bitter or has he finally grown a pair? What about-”
Arin cupped her chin between his fingers. “You will see it for yourself. And no, Sefa is not dead, thank the Awaleen.”
Relief escaped her. Standing up, Essiya picked up her clothes scattered on the grass. She realised she had completely forgotten that she was wearing Arin’s blouse. It was warm and comforting even though it was obviously huge on her. She would gladly wear it all day long if not for basic decorum when visiting old friends. Though it would be humorous, to see Sefa’s face turn beet red at the scandalised implications of her dressing.
Oh, how she missed her sweet innocent best friend. She doubted Sefa remained the same after all the time that had passed. In fact, innocent was probably not an accurate enough adjective for Sefa. But knowing her, Sefa’s hold on modesty would have preceded any traumatic event. Essiya recalled a memory of her time in the mountains, when Arin was sparring with the Jasadis and she couldn’t lift her eyes away from the obscenity.
“Please get that look off of your face,” Sefa said, the strained request startling me from my reverie. “I feel an urgent need to throw you into the lake.”
“The lake is frozen.”
“And yet I doubt it’ll be cold enough.” Sefa shuddered. “I thought Marek had exposed me to the full range of human depravity, but Awaleen below, Essiya… unless you want everyone to know you’d like to eat the Heir alive, take a firmer hand with your lust.”
Oh Marek…Despair began to trickle into her veins. It’s maddening how certain wounds refuse to heal. It’s not like she hadn’t spent years ruminating, reminiscing, and recovering from the grief of losing her closest friend. Her brother. She knew she couldn’t be blamed entirely, but part of her still does. Grief, she understood, was transactional, necessary. It’s the price we pay for love. Because, no matter how much power she held, she’s still subject to her humanity. To her feelings, that somehow still felt bigger and more powerful than her, Rovial’s magic and all.
It’s a cruel, beautiful, polarising world we live in. Glancing at Arin meticulously tying his vests, she realises she knows its beauty. She understands it, she loves it, deeply. She believes that whatever cruelty this world throws at her next is worthwhile if it means suffering sweetly with him.
It wasn't easy being away from him for a decade. Every day was a drag, especially with the uncertainty that the Awaleen's theory may not be plausible. She struggled to find purpose with eternity looming before her. Time was all she had, a luxury no one else posessed. She couldn't bear the thought of going back just to find that those she loved had ran out of it. So she thought, what would Arin do? and began to plan. It was him, always, only him that could pull her out of the darkness without lifting a finger.
"Suraira..." Arin took her hand, "Come back to me." he murmured, shaking her from her thoughts.
Essiya tilted her head up.
"Where were you?"
"Oh nothing, I was just–" she stuttered. "Nevermind, It's nothing. I promise."
"Don't do that. Don't hide from me." He tipped her chin to him. "Tell me everything. Come to me. Hide with me."
"Were you always this romantic?" Placing her hand on her chest, seemingly offended, she joked, "Awaleen below, who is she?"
"Essiya, I'm serious."
She grinned and brought her lips to his, savouring his taste, tattooing this memory into her brain. She finally felt content, at peace. In that moment, her only enemy was time.
"I know Arin. I know."
After getting dressed, they agreed to ride on horseback. Well, technically, it wasn’t much of an agreement. Niseeba was adamant on throwing Essiya off every time she climbed on its back. Arin couldn’t stop laughing which normally would have given her an excuse to viciously claw his face off but her pathetic soft heart held her back. Back when they were training for the Alcalah, hearing loud laughter escape from his highness would have immediately put her in a coma at the shock she would have received but recently, it has made her heart soar. She craved Arin’s smiles and laughter like an addict. Thank the Awaleen that she could never go into withdrawal though, considering her amazing humour and comedic timing.
“Ready, Suraira?” Arin asked.
“More than ever.” Essiya beamed and they rode into the Essam Woods.