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The night had already fallen on the steppe, making it hard to see further than one’s hand, but the fires made it so much easier. The sky was covered in stars, and the moon was becoming brighter with each night. It was cooler than during the day, but not enough to make her shiver. Not if she got to her tent fast enough. And she needed to. She was smiling slightly to herself. She was very proud of herself after all. Finally, she got to the tent and walked inside, finally letting her guard down.
«Sitara! My Star! You are finally back.»
Immediately, she was thrown into the warmth. But not of the tent, no, of her husband hugging her tightly. Even if she wasn’t that tired, she was now. She let herself sink into her husband’s arms, wrapping her own hands around his neck and reaching up to let their lips lock together just for a bit. Just a gentle press of lips to each other. Nothing more, nothing less. It was just perfect like this. This soft, warm kiss that truly screamed that she was off her duties and allowed to finally rest. It was their own tent, they didn’t have to worry about anything or anyone anymore.
Well, except maybe his beard that was tickling her chin. As much as she loved the look of her husband with it on, she also hated the feeling of it against her skin sometimes. So she broke that warm kiss to show her dissatisfaction with the beard by rubbing her chin with her hand to get rid of that ticklish feeling. While her husband just chuckled at her while rubbing his beard.
«I swear, one of these days I’m surely going to get rid of your beard.»
She looked up at her still smiling husband with a frown and then turned away with a “Hmph!” and a pout. She crossed her hands and just stood there, waiting for what her husband would do next. Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait for long as he wrapped his hands around her waist and placed his head on her shoulder, kissing her still pouty cheeks with a smile on his face.
«Are you? I thought you liked my beard, My Star...»
Of course Sitara loved his beard. It made him look much more beautiful. And she was always happy to show off the fact that they were married. That she got to marry him. Even thought it’s not like he would marry anyone else but her. But she wasn’t planning on giving up to him so easily. She just looked at him and then carefully got his arms to open around her, so she swirled out of them and walked deeper into the tent, slowly starting to take her clothes off by untying the belt first.
«Yeah, yeah... Would My Moon mind helping me to change?... I’m so tired I can barely do anything... I sure hope that my dear strong husband named Muhammad would help me with it...»
She turned her head back slightly as the belt finally fell off her waist into her hands. She watched as her lover’s face slowly turned red, but he still started walking towards her. They had been married for some years now, but he still acted like they were newlyweds. But he was so cute at the same time, how could she complain? She just kissed him on the nose when he finally got to her and let him take care of her.
However, something just never made sense to her. He was completely okay with taking her clothes off, with seeing her naked and touching her, dressing her then back up, letting her hair out of her hijab, sitting her on his lap and unbraiding it, but the second she just thought about undressing herself in front of him, he would get flustered. It’s not like she wouldn’t help him undress and then dress up in the morning and in the evenings like he did for her, even if they were rushing, but it was just so funny to her. Well, to be fair, whenever she undresses herself, she always teases him while doing so, so he should get flustered.
«So, how was your day, My Star?»
She was actually not feeling like talking much. She felt pretty sleepy after all the scheming, thinking, and working, so she would rather just let herself lean against her husband’s torso and close her eyes. But she also had her hair still braided and unbrushed, since he was taking care of it, so what harm could it be to talk, right?
«Well, nothing unusual. Just serving Töregene Khatun and that’s it. Not much was to do today. However, we should have some great news anytime soon.»
She did, in fact, need to talk. After all, today Prince Gyuyk should’ve gotten the message about returning to the camp. So if everything worked how they intended, he would be back soon. The sooner the better. And then they would think about what to do with him properly. But first, he had to come back, otherwise, they would not get everything the way they needed.
Perhaps, she shouldn’t say everything to Muhammad. After all, that was their secret plan with the Khatun... On the other hand, she knew that he would not go against her. If she just explained... Then everything would be fine, right? He would understand. She was doing it for them. For their family. For their homeland.
«Is that so? What will your schemes result in this time?»
He didn’t seem bothered by it in any way. He just kissed her head gently, before starting to braid her hair again, in two loose braids for sleep, just so the hair wouldn’t be everywhere. Though, usually both of their hair end up everywhere, so it doesn’t matter much. What mattered, is that his hair was still down, so as soon as he was done with her hair, she could do his. And what could be better than that?
«Well, listen, My dearest Moon. We need to get Prince Gyuyk back, so that Great Khagan would make him the Crown Prince, right? So, we sent a messenger to get him. But we are unsure if that guy is not working for someone else as well, so as soon as he is done with his job, one of the guards will poison him to get rid of him. So we will be safe from his schemes.»
«Poison him?!»
That one didn’t go well. Fatima silently rolled her eyes in answer to her husband’s a bit too loud voice. Of course, he almost immediately started whispering instead by wrapping his hands around her and leaning her against him. And she accepted it, placing her head on his chest. He wasn’t really a fan of the way she dealed with things, but it wasn’t her fault it was the best way, was it?! So what if one or two people suffered in the way. Mongolians didn’t care about her people, why should she care about theirs?
«Sitara, you can’t just poison people like that. What if someone finds out? I don’t want anything to happen to you.»
Well, she didn’t actually think this one through. It’s not like anyone will find out. The poison should be strong enough to kill them fast, so she didn’t actually think about worrying about that. She was her mistresse’s favourtite, and her mistress was not taken seriously anyway, so they wouldn’t actually do anything to them, would they? Great Khagan did nothing after she poisoned him, so why would he do anything when she poisoned a yesterday’s slave?
«No one will. It’s not like he was some important guy. We don’t even know him, so you shouldn’t worry that much. Would you let me braid your hair instead?»
She was not so subtle about changing the topic. She always did that whenever she would lie to him. It was very obvious, but usually Muhammad would just agree to change the topic and they would forget about what was happening before. After all, they had nothing to worry. They served the same person. And she was the closest of this person’s servants. She wouldn’t let anything happen to them. She just smiled and sat straight, turning to see her husband’s face, only to be met with a serious look.
«Sitara. Don’t change the subject. Who did you poison?»
Technically, Fatima poisoned nobody. Technically, she didn’t do anything. She just passed her mistress’s word through. She did not herself pour the poison into the food for the messenger and his other guard. Technically, she just handed it as ordered. And passed the word. She did not see the poisoned person, nor was there when that happened. So why should she blame herself?
But it’s not like she could escape. As much as Muhammad’s hands were still wrapped around her gently, she could feel how stiff he became. He was clearly not in the mood. Why did he care so much anyway? That guy used them before to climb up himself! And now he was in the way of her plan! It was only logical to use him now. Even if it meant getting rid of him.
«It doesn’t matter. He is working for them anyway. It’s not like he is important or anything.»
«You just said that we don’t know the guy. And there is only one guy, who became a messenger, who we both know. Sitara, don’t you lie to me.»
He just had to be smarter than her! He could see right through her! It didn’t matter if she lied or not, he would know right away! She could only look her husband in the eyes, but it was clear that he was not happy with her. He wasn’t sad, but angry. Well, that was not great. As if she wasn’t angry! She also had the right to be angry.
«Who cares! Yes, it is Shira, so what! He used us to climb up, why can’t we use him?! Why can’t I use him! So what if it means getting rid of him? He knows too much, he is in the way! That was the only possible decision! Otherwise, we would be screwed! I’m doing this for us!»
She wasn’t so sure about that anymore. She knew it was the best for her. She knew it was what she wanted. What Töregene Khatun wanted. But was that what they needed? But was that what she and Muhammad needed? Now that she was thinking about it, she wasn’t so sure. But she wasn’t going to back down now. She was looking her husband in the eyes, trying to match his anger with her madness and desperation, but all she saw there was sadness.
«Well, maybe you shouldn’t. If you kill people, even indirectly, you can’t get into Jannah. I want both of us to go there to meet with everyone else.»
«Well, maybe I won’t go there! So what! I would rather get my hands dirty and go to Jahanam than do nothing and go to Jannah! I would rather have blood on my hands, but avenge everything they did to us! They took away our home, they took away our peace, they took away Anis, Zummurrud, Uncle and Mistress! I am not letting them take away my revenge.»
Before she knew it, she was covering her face with her hands to not show the tears. Who needed Jannah when it means not doing anything. She would much rather go to Jahanam and suffer there for eternity, but at least she would know that she avenged those, who took everything away from her. She shouldn’t have yelled at her husband, he did nothing, but he was there telling her not to do anything. It was just too much.
Sitara felt a gentle brush on her hair as a hand forced her to lean against the chest. He didn’t say anything at first, just stroking her hair, while the tears rolled down her cheeks. She couldn’t actually justify what she did. She knew that Shira was as much of a victim as they were, but... But he was okay with serving them. He was high enough to have his own tent and his own guards. Even if it’s mostly for when he travels.
Yes, they also had their own tent, mostly thanks to the fact that they were married and out of the kindness of their mistress’s heart. If not for that, they wouldn’t have it. They were still technically slaves, while he was not considered one anymore. How could she not feel infuriated? Especially when he would try to ask her something personal, while knowing she was married. He was just ridiculous. And stupid. So they had to get him out as soon as possible.
Thankfully, Muhammad didn’t say anything to judge her. He just held her, letting her get comfortable on his lap, while stroking her hair. She could feel his lips finally pressing against her head. That was enough to make her wrap her hands around him and just breathe out, calmed down.
«If that’s what you decided... Then I would go to Jahanam with you. Wherever you go, I go. Whatever you choose, I choose. After all, we are husband and wife. I just ask you to be more careful. I am not ready to lose you. I will never be ready to lose you.»
He wasn’t talking too loudly. Just whispering in her hair, while his hands were carefully stroking her back to calm her down. And maybe calm himself down. She could feel how shaky he got after saying that. She wanted to look up, but she couldn’t. Instead, she just buried her face more in his chest. She just couldn’t stop the tears. They were rolling down her cheeks without any stop. All Sitara could do was to just accept them, but she didn’t really want to.
So she just sat there in her husband’s arms, while he whispered all sorts of love words he could think of in all the languages he knew to her. She didn’t need to think about anything else but Muhammad’s love for her and hers for him.