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act I – stupid girl, I should’ve known
Fasal staggered back to his feet, wiping a strand of hair from his mouth. In the name of Sorahb, he’d just washed his hair that morning (a process which took longer than he cared to admit), now he’d have to do it all over again. He took a few deep breaths and straightened his tunic, knowing he had to head back to the mess hall but not wanting to face the questioning looks he would receive from his men.
This was about the sixth day in a row he’d had to suddenly get up from the table and excuse himself in order to prevent emptying the contents of his stomach all over their meal. He had wanted to deny it to himself, tell himself that it was the flu or food poisoning or anything else. But they all shared the rather unimpressive diet of flatbread and smoked meat, and none of the other men had been sick. He showed no other symptoms of the flu.
The truth was he’d known practically from the very first day what it was. It’s so comfortable to live in that space between knowing and acknowledgement, but eventually you have to wake up. Fasal just couldn’t believe his stupidity, the absolute supreme stupidity and complete lack of self-respect that had led him into this situation. He didn’t even know how it had happened. Somehow too much ale and a heated argument about training of the troops had turned into something else. There was just so much rage and fury and somehow words and gestures weren’t enough to get it across, but it’s amazing how much pain and scorn you can express without them. He’d been shaken up afterwards, told himself that it was the result of too much drink and too little release in the last couple of weeks, and swore that it would never happen again. And yet it did. It happened again, and then again, and then yet again, and eventually he lost count.
He wasn’t a fool. He’d taken men to bed before; he knew there were ways to avoid what he was facing now. Not allowing them to spill their seed inside him, or, if he thought the man lacked control and a sense of timing, engaging in other acts of pleasure. But there had been no love or logic or thought in what had happened between him and Jiaan— not even passion, really —it was a kind of savagery, two rabid animals going at each other, teeth bared and ready to draw blood. But just like a battle, every move has a reaction, just as every indulgence (even one of self-destruction) has a price. And the gods had decided it was time for him to pay up.
It wasn’t as if deghans did not lie with peasants or father children on them (as Jiaan’s entire existence was testimony to), but it was an entirely different kind of shame when a peasant fathered one on you. Shame. That was the worst of it, for someone like Fasal, raised with a deghan’s pride. Never even mind that they were in the middle of a goddamn war for Farsala’s freedom and this really wasn’t the opportune moment (not that there ever would be an opportune moment to carry Jiaan’s child). Shame won’t kill you, Fasal tried to tell himself. You’re made of something better than that. But he didn’t believe that anymore.
“Are you okay out there?” One of his men called from a bit of a distance. They knew not to intrude on his personal space by now.
Okay. You have to be brave now. Braver than ever.
“Perfectly fine, thank you very much. I just needed some fresh air. Now, it’s time to quit lazing around and go practice some drills before the sun gets too hot. Gather up the other men and meet me at the field, and sharp.” Voice steady, calm, authoritative.
He felt like crying.
act II - why does it feel so good, so good to be bad?
Fasal had always lived on this side of danger, had always liked to dance a little too close to the fire. His deghan blood ran hot in him, perhaps too hot. True, he had the grace and posture that befitted his station, but not the cool head or tactful tongue, which had gotten him into trouble more times than he cared to remember. He wasn’t made for long and complicated strategic manoeuvres, he was made to decide in the heat of the battle to do what needed to be done. He wasn’t made for flowery words and drawn out courting, he was made for heat and immediacy and impulsivity. And of course, he had a deghan’s pride, he had it brimming to his ears. Ever since his first blush of manhood he had been falling into the sheets with people he probably shouldn’t have been, but he’d never taken it this far before. Why did he have that need, that drive, to press his nails into his skin as long as he could until he drew blood?
He was shaken out of his thoughts by the loud clatter of that goddamned twice turncoat setting his plate on the table. Fasal glared at him. He had nothing but contempt for that pathetic coward.
“It’s not like I want to sit here,” Kavi said defensively. “Believe me, if I had a choice I wouldn’t. But the rest of the tables are full, and a man has to have his meal somewhere.” Fasal didn’t bother to dignify this with a response; he just continued to poke at his food.
“You alright there?” Kavi asked after a couple minutes of awkward silence. “It looks like you have a personal vendetta against that piece of lamb. What has it ever done to you?”
“If you are attempting to ingratiate yourself to me, you are failing miserably.” Fasal replied, ice dripping from every word. “In fact, your horrible sense of humour has just made you fall further in my estimation.”
“I didn’t know there was anywhere left for me to fall to.” Kavi shot back easily. “Look, I can’t help but notice that for the last couple weeks you’ve been, kind of, well….”
“Kind of what?” Stupid curiosity getting the better of him.
“Kind of more bitchy than usual, if I’m going to be honest.”
“I didn’t know that I could get any ‘more bitchy’,” Fasal parroted.
“You got me there!” Kavi laughed. “But, yeah, you’ve just been kind of even more short tempered and antisocial, and to be honest, you’ve gained some weight."
“You can lose weight,” Fasal replied sweetly. “But you can’t fix an ugly face.”
“My charm, wit, and attractive personality make up for it. I’m quite irresistible.”
“I don’t exactly see a line forming outside of your tent.”
“Well, we can’t all be as pretty as you, Fasal.” True enough. “Or perhaps we have higher standards.”
“Insults borne of jealousy don’t interest me.”
“Look. Honestly, I’m just going to be straight with it, is something going on?”
“How dare you think you’re entitled to know anything about my life.” And with that Fasal got up from the table and flounced off, without a backwards glance.
act III – rumour has it
Fasal had hoped Kavi’s interest in his personal life would have been shut down by their exchange, but his curiosity seemed piqued rather than sated. As if Fasal didn’t have enough to deal with, he now had to purposely ignore Kavi’s constant questioning, then, more recently, knowing glances. So he was pissed off but not surprised when he found the pesky double defector waiting for him outside his tent after the evening meal.
“What, decided you wanted a turn too?” He noticed a girl beside Kavi, and recognized her as the teenage daughter of Commander Merahb. “Oh, both of you at once, I didn’t know your tastes ran in that direction,” he said mockingly.
“In your wildest dreams,” the girl sneered. Soraya. That was her name.
“Why are you two together anyway, I thought your dearest desire was to run him through with a sword.”
“It is,” Soraya agreed, “But for now the situation calls for us to cooperate. Believe me, once this is all done I will gladly take his life and avenge my father.” Kavi winced and looked away.
“I suggest you both leave before you provoke my temper.”
“We’re not afraid of your bitch fits, Fasal.”
“I think you’d better ask us inside,” Kavi added. “We’re going to have our say whether you like it or not, and I don’t think you want others to overhear.” Fasal bristled with indignation at being ordered about by a peasant and a girl, but he let them in anyways.
“There’s talk, you know,” Kavi said immediately once the tent flap shut. “The men are talking about you. And I don’t think you’d like what they’re saying.”
“The thoughts of disgusting little men don’t concern me.” But his heart was beating loudly against his ribs, and he fought to keep his tone appropriately acerbic.
“You may think we’re idiots,” Soraya spat, “But we’re smarter than you give us credit for. Everyone knows that you lie with men, and everyone knows you let them have you. And you’ve let my bastard brother have his turn, haven’t you?” Her voice quivered with anger. She obviously couldn’t believe a proud deghan would lower himself to that level, and was personally affronted. He couldn’t even meet her eyes, the shame was too much.
“You would have to lack eyes and a brain not to realize something is amiss,” Kavi said, his tone holding more pity than condemnation which was somehow a thousand times worse. “You’re carrying his child, aren’t you?”
And how Fasal wished he could deny it, that he could laugh them out of his tent and chide them for being so ridiculous. But the truth was right there in front of them, and it seemed it was time to face it. He forced himself to hold his head high and meet their eyes.
“I do not see how this is anyone’s business but my own.”
Soraya let out a loud scoff. “Not anyone’s business? How deluded are you?”
“We’re in the middle of a war, Fasal, and you and Jiaan are the figureheads. If you don’t think this has any bearing on the current state of affairs you’re mistaken.”
“That’s not even half of it. Deghans do not allow peasants to father children on them. If we lie with them, we take our pleasure from them; we don’t let them have it of us. You’re a disgrace to the memory of our fathers.”
“Nevermind that,” Kavi said quickly. “You have to tell Jiaan, immediately.”
“I do not have to do anything.”
“This situation needs to be dealt with. If the circumstances were different, you could say that another deghan was the father. But everybody knows the child is of common blood, it would do you better to have it known that the sire is at least a high ranking half-blood Commander rather than one of the soldiers. Besides, Jiaan is the father. He has a right to know and to decide what will happen.”
“He has no such right. It’s my body, it’s my problem.”
“Can’t you see this has so much more to do with than just you?” Soraya demanded. “The future of Farsala is at stake. You were our best bet, and now…” She turned away, and there was pain mixed in with the anger in her voice.
“I’ve let you down, daughter of Merahb.”
“Yes.” She looked back at him, gaze unflinching. “So don’t let me down anymore. Stop being a coward and start acting like a deghan.”
And something about the frankness and conviction in her eyes hit him like a blow to the chest. She was right: he had noble blood in his veins, despite everything he’d done. You can hide from your opponent for a while, but eventually you have to meet them face to face.
act IV - will you meet me halfway
Fasal stood outside of Jiaan’s tent, trying to take calming breaths and steady his heart. Just as he steeled himself to enter, the tent flap opened and he was face to face with the young commander. Great. Caught skulking outside his tent like some desperate lovelorn child. Just what he needed to get this conversation off to a good start. He’d already given Jiaan even more of an upper hand.
“What are you doing here?” Jiaan asked, confusion evident in his voice. Fasal had been avoiding him like the plague for the last few months, barely speaking more than a handful of words to him. He must have been wondering why he was seeking him out now.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Unless it’s pressing, any tactical discussion can wait until tomorrow. I’ve spent the last couple hours reading over reports from Commander Siddas, and I have to write him back before dawn.” Jiaan had just given him an easy way out, and he was tempted to take it. But once he decided to do something, he didn’t do it halfway.
“You’ll want to hear this.” And there was something in his voice that stopped Jiaan from questioning him further.
“Come in, then.” Fasal felt uncomfortable entering the tent, memories flooding him, the very air heavy with what had happened between them. He stood as close to the entrance as he could, arms crossed protectively over his chest.
“Well, what is it?”
“I…” Fasal took another breath, trying to force the words out. “I…” It wasn’t going to happen. He stepped forward and grabbed Jiaan’s hand, the other man startling back in surprise. He lifted his tunic and put Jiaan’s hand on his stomach. Jiaan’s eyes widened in shock and he let his hand rest for a moment before pulling it back, as if scalded.
Silence hung between them like a veil, it seemed no words could pull it back and make things clear again.
“How long have you known?” Jiaan said finally. Fasal thanked Sorahb that his first question hadn’t been are you sure it’s mine?
“Two months.”
“Two months? And you didn’t tell me?”
“What was there to say?”
Jiaan processed this for a moment, his jaw clenching. “What do you want to do about this?”
“There are people who can take care of this kind of thing. There may still be some in the surrounding villages.”
“No,” Jiaan said, forcefully. “You know what happens most of the time. I’m not letting you take that risk.”
“What other choice do I have?”
Jiaan looked down, then buried his head in his hands. “I’ve gotten you into such a mess.”
Fasal shook his head vehemently. “I got into it just as much as you did. Don’t act like it was all your choice.” I won’t let you have that kind of power.
“I will acknowledge that the child is mine. It’s the least I can do.”
Fasal bit his lip, then spoke. “I just can’t believe that… That what we did could have ended like this. An act like that shouldn’t be allowed to make a child. I mean, we can’t even stand the sight of each other, and now we’re responsible for …”
“Fasal, I –”
“Don’t say things you don’t mean. I don’t need your comfort and I don’t need your pity.”
“I wasn’t about to pity you. Believe me, I know better than to do that. I was going to say that you’re brave, you’re intelligent, you’re dangerous, and I respect you. If I had to have an unwanted pregnancy with anyone, well, there are worse people out there.”
Fasal snorted. “Yeah, you really lucked out.”
“Honestly, I’m confused and angry and scared as hell, but whatever I’m feeling you’re feeling a hundred times more. I’ll do what I can to support you. Just tell me what.”
“… I just, I want to take it day by day I guess. I know people will have to know eventually, but I want that to be on my terms.”
“Of course. I won’t tell anyone until you’re ready. I wouldn’t want to face your wrath.”
Fasal gave him a weak smile, but there was a tremble to it, like an old building clinging to its foundations just before it crumbles.
“Hey,” Jiaan said softly. “Come here.” And Fasal let himself be pulled in.
“I still hate you,” Fasal muttered against his chest.
“I’d be worried if you didn’t,” Jiaan replied gravely, but he was smiling into his hair.
act v - every little thing is gonna be alright
It had been awkward at first, to say the very least. Men looked at him with more lewdness and disrespect, and treated him as if he was Jiaan’s “woman” now, which he was quick to shut down with a caustic remark. His growing stomach didn’t allow him to be as active in training as he would like to be; in fact, his involvement was mostly verbal now. Going to battle was out of the question, which for a young man with visions of glory and heroism was absolutely devastating. He had once been the last deghan brave, the warrior who would save Farsala, and now he was reduced to carrying the Commander’s child. The child. He had accepted as well as he could that he was pregnant, but he still couldn’t quite believe that it was actually going to result in a living, breathing baby. He was going to be responsible for a helpless crying little copy of Jiaan and himself. What was going to be reality in a couple of months he couldn’t even begin to imagine. For the most part, he just tried not to think about it.
They were huddled around a campfire, drinking ale and telling tales, in typical Farsalan style. Kavi was in the middle of an anecdote about Ducky and the royal fountain, when Fasal cried out and clutched his stomach.
“Is something wrong?” Jiaan immediately jumped up. (Things between them had gotten better— they would never really like each other, let alone love each other, but there was a growing respect on both sides. Jiaan was quick to reprimand any soldier he caught talking rudely about him, and he was obviously concerned and protective of the younger man who was carrying their child.)
“This kid sure knows how to kick,” Fasal complained.
“He’ll be a fierce one.”
“He?” Soraya demanded. “The fiercest and strongest of Farsala are the women.”
“Well, you certainly prove that.”
“It will be a daughter.” Her tone brooked no argument.
“Either way, let’s hope it ends up with Jiaan’s temperament and Fasal’s looks. That would make one hell of a heartbreaker.”
“With my luck, it will be the exact opposite. Plain and bitchy to boot.”
Kavi spat out his drink. “When did you learn to be self-deprecating?”
“I’m full of surprises.” And, to his own surprise, he was laughing. The future was scary and uncertain and nothing was guaranteed. But in that moment, despite everything, he thought that maybe everything would be okay after all.