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From: Delta <delta@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} RP "A Question of Honour" by Delta 4\5 (MF)
Date: Sun, 9 Jul 2000 09:10:06 -0400
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RE
Should you wish to comment upon my story, I can be reached by
E-mail at:
delta @ nym . alias . net
Comments and critizisms are welcome.
Standard disclaimers: This is a work of fiction - no character
within is a depiction of any real person, living or dead. No
place or event described within exists outside of the writer's
imagination. Copyright retained by the author and this post
is for private use of the reader only. It is not to be published
in any form whatsoever, including being made available on BBSs,
or on Web Pages, without the express prior consent of author.
Any readers who are underage in the jurisdiction in which
they reside are asked to please pass by.
Delta.
A QUESTION OF HONOUR
Chapter 4
Lere had found some of the Quella which Riltan had identified
for him. Quella, that leafy vegetable with its thick, edible root
which lent a piquant taste to their meals, was a welcome addition
to their food supply. He proudly showed the small group his triumph.
Riltan smiled at the happy face amid the armful of vegetation.
Lere, with his hair windblown and wild, looked like he belonged
with the Quella. It was getting close to time for a haircut.
"Take a look at our 'Seeker', Takene," Iro said softly.
Takene glanced over. "What is it?"
"It's the first time I've seen him smile. It makes him a little
less scary." Iro liked the smile.
Takene looked again. Iro was right. She, also, had never seen
Riltan smile. It was a measure of her success, she thought, feeling
both proud of her accomplishment and guilty because of the reason for
it.
For first two nights after their little talk, Takene had taken
great care to remain alert with Riltan while he was sleeping. She
slept lightly and at the merest sign of a bad dream, she would awaken
and begin talking softly to him, stroking him, interposing herself, as
it were, between the dream and Riltan. It didn't matter that he
wouldn't understand what she was saying, her tone would tell his
sleeping mind all that it needed to know.
In the two days since, Riltan had evinced a change from one
who was waiting, expectant, tight, to one who was able to relax.
Not to totally relax, but to relax a little. From the time they
had met he had always been able to sit quietly, unmoving, yet had
never seemed to relax. Now it was different and Takene felt that
she could take a great deal of credit for the change.
"He scares you?" Takene recalled Iro's words and wondered
at them.
"I said it makes him less scary, and that's not the same
thing." Iro defended herself. "I've never been scared of him,
except maybe that first day, for a minute or two. I think he's
kind of cute."
Takene choked. "Cute?" She looked again to Riltan whose
face was no longer smiling, yet which held the essence of good
humour. He had strong features; one might call him handsome in
a rugged sort of way, but cute?
"Yes. And I think it's about time." Iro's look sharpened,
wondering how Takene would respond. It wasn't her fault that
Riltan didn't find Takene attractive enough to take for his own.
Iro understood. Takene was getting old. If Takene would give her
her chance, as she was supposed to, Iro was sure that Riltan
would come to her gladly.
"You do, do you? Well, I don't. And as your . . ."
"As my surrogate aunt you are supposed to provide me with
a man to instruct me in the arts of lovemaking . . ."
"Someone suitable." Neither woman was allowing the other
to complete an argument.
"There is no one else, Takene - unless you have some other
man stashed away . . ."
"Riltan is not suitable, Iro." Takene was frustrated. She
knew her duty well enough, but to fulfill it could bring unknown
hazards down upon them.
"Well I think he is," Iro replied loftily. "And I think
he's sweet. He'll do just fine. If it is too much for you to
arrange, all you have to do is step aside. I'll do the rest."
"Sweet?" The girl must be fantasizing about him. Sweet?
This was getting out of hand. "So, you think he's a cute,
sweet man. I don't know how you came to that conclusion, but
I'll accept it as the way you see him. Just do one thing for
me, Iro," Takene paused.
"What's that?" Was Takene finally going to relent?
"It's about time to wash some clothes. You and I will
do that. I want you to take a good look at Riltan's body
and then tell me again how cute and sweet he is.
"Riltan," she called. His head swung around to look
at them. <Give-me shirt> His eyebrows went up. <Wash.
Smell> she made a face.
Riltan took a quick sniff at his shirt and looked
quizzically at Takene. Then he shrugged and with a bemused
look pulled it off and handed it to her as she and Iro came
near. The sun was warm on his skin and with a contented
sigh he lay back and closed his eyes. A few moments later,
sensing something, his eyes flicked open again.
Iro stood above him, looking in fascination at his
torso. He looked down at himself and became aware of the
scars. Becoming aware of the scars, he became aware, also,
of how they had come about and his face clouded over. They
were not happy memories - did not, in fact, belong to him,
but to the other, the one before him.
Slightly irritated, he arose and dug his other shirt
out of his pack and put it on. When he turned again, Iro
had gone. He sighed once again, then moved to help Lere
clean and prepare the Quella.
"Why did you do that?" Iro hissed at Takene. "Was it
really necessary?"
"Yes. You want to be treated like a woman, are a woman,
so yes, it was necessary. I find it hard not to try to protect
you, I've been Guardian too long for that, yet there are things
you should know. That was one of them.
"Our 'cute, sweet' Riltan is the most dangerous man you
have ever seen. He didn't just come by those scars. He earned
them, every one. And it's my bet that none who gave him any
of those scars is alive anymore."
"You just want him for yourself," Iro pouted, then her
eyes widened in pain as Takene gripped her arm with such force
that she gasped.
"Listen, and listen carefully." Takene was angry and
Iro tried to shrink from her. "You remember the man who was
going to rape me?"
With Takene's eyes boring into hers from such close range
Iro was forced to recall. "Yes, Takene." She had nearly
called Takene 'Guardian', she was so cowed.
"Well, he was a dead man before Riltan ever showed up."
Takene released her hold on Iro. It was time the young woman
learned something of life. "He was dangerous in his own way,
but I was never worried about him. I wasn't afraid. He was
a dead man."
"What do you mean?"
"Simply that I was going to kill him." She smiled at
Iro's wide eyed expression. It was not a pleasant smile.
"Sure, he might have raped me first - I was ready for that -
but he would not have lived out the day. He was not a
problem." Takene could see that, shocked though Iro was,
she believed her. "Not a problem, at all," she repeated.
"But our friend Riltan," she took a deep breath, "he's
a different proposition altogether. When I saw him I was
frightened. I wouldn't have stood a chance against him,
not even though he was dead on his feet.
"Now, it is a different story. He trusts me - a little.
I've worked hard to gain his trust. I've been careful to go
at his pace. I haven't pushed him at all. Do you know why,
Iro?" Her voice was like a whiplash.
"Why?" Iro was forced to ask the question which she didn't
want the answer to.
Takene composed herself. Her voice became calm and considered,
and that much more frightening because of it. Iro realized that
she had never truly known her Guardian.
"Because, should it come to it, it might - it just might -
slow him down that fraction which will allow me to kill him.
Because, due to all that work, due to the trust I've gained, I
might have the slimmest chance. Understand me, Iro, just the
slimmest chance, no more. He is dangerous, Iro, he is a killer."
Iro plucked up her courage. "Not to us, not anymore."
Takene relaxed and smiled a tired smile as she put the
dirty clothes into the wash bucket. "Perhaps not, Iro, perhaps
not. He has changed, I agree, yet he could change back again.
If that happens, we will need every break we can get. If you and
I fight over him, he will be on guard, our chances will be
diminished."
Iro was more impressed with Takene than she wanted to let
on. Her argument was powerful enough to convince her that there
should be no fight between them. "Then let's not fight. Let me
have him, or at least share him. It's my right to . . ."
"He's not suitable, Iro." Takene was weary.
"How can you . . . ." Suddenly Iro understood. "You know
who he is, don't you?"
Takene smiled, "Let's give him the benefit of the doubt.
I know who he was."
"Who?" Iro's curiosity overcame her reluctance to know.
"Trust me when I tell you that it is better that you don't
know. I'm sorry, Iro, I truly am. If it were different, I
would have no qualms about you having 'my man' as your first."
She scrubbed at Riltan's shirt. "I had a man for some years
before he was taken from me. He made me very happy. I want
that for you, too. I would do nothing to take that away from
you. You deserve to be brought into the full flower of womanhood
by the best. I love you, Iro, like I would my own daughter. If
my man were here, now, we would not be having this discussion."
There were tears in her eyes, though she could not understand why.
She could see Iro's eyes misting over as well.
Then the tears were flowing and they were in each other's
arms. The recognition of the empty spot within was a pain that
wouldn't be denied. They held each other a long time before
finally breaking apart.
Takene wiped at her face and gave a half laugh. "Come on
and let's finish the laundry. They boys will be wondering
what's keeping us."
Riltan had been going out more and more often to look over
the approaches to the camp. He appeared on edge and Takene
finally faced him with it.
<Your people come when?> he asked her.
Takene frowned. <My people? Come-here why?> Was that what
he was worried about?
<Look for caravan. See what happen then>
Ah, so that was it. <My people not come-here> she told a
disbelieving Riltan. She smiled at his doubt. <My people know
what happen then. Four, maybe six, my people escape. Looking
ahead - in vehicle. They far side caravan. I see. Can't meet,
join them. Can't catch. They tell - no one come> She smiled
ruefully, <no one look, think we-all dead>
<Not come - see? Why?> Riltan was confused.
<War. Caravan leave> "Trianne". "Trianne - Slindaria" <war
now. No one come. No one look>
Riltan slowly nodded his head. Soldiers wouldn't be coming
this way, either. Fighting would take place, if it took place,
much farther north. Here in the south either side would have
to make its approach through neutral territory and neither would
wish to bring H'Las into the war against them.
<Why stay here?> Riltan wanted to know.
Takene tried her best to look lost and inquired, <Where go?>
Riltan nodded slowly and wandered off, lost in thought.
Where, indeed? He stopped suddenly. Why did he feel like a
weight had been lifted from him? He looked back through his
thoughts and discovered that the surge in his spirits had
begun when Takene had told him that no one would come looking.
Why should that please him?
He started moving again, but was stopped by the shock of
his thoughts. He wanted her to remain with him! He had become
comfortable with her, with them. They were family - his family!
The only place he belonged was with them.
Riltan moved out slowly, considering this new data, wondering
how the situation had come about. He accepted it, for there was
no use in denying what was so evident - so evident that it had
surrounded him without his becoming aware of it. He shook his
head wonderingly.
Not that he should be surprised, really. The new man had a
new life and these people - his family - had been in it from the
start, from the time he crossed the dry creek bed. It was right
that he was with them. He stopped and turned to look back.
From his position he could see all three and from within
there was a sudden welling up of an emotion he couldn't identify.
It suffused his entire being and brought tears to his eyes, catching
him totally by surprise. As the tears rolled down his cheeks
unhindered, the one inside was astonished at the body's reaction.
What was this? What was happening?
He must have stumbled, for the next thing he knew he was
seated on the ground and Takene was making her way, purposefully,
towards him. He didn't move. He simply waited.
Takene had watched Riltan as he left her, curious about his
strange gait. He walked as though he were in a daze, stopping a
couple of times, then turning to watch the camp. She pretended to
be concentrating on fixing the evening meal while covertly looking
at him.
Takene's eyebrows shot up as Riltan suddenly seemed to stagger
then dropped to a sitting position. It had not been a controlled
sit. Could he be sick? She hoped not. If he caught sick it could
set them back days, or even weeks. This was not good. She pushed
to her feet and strode towards him, worry creasing her features.
<Something wrong?> she asked as she neared him.
<No. Something right> he replied, to her amazement.
<Why cry?> she wondered.
<Don't know> he signed simply.
Takene nodded, as if this were the most natural thing in the
world. Riltan sat, feet apart with knees bent outwards, grasping his
ankles with his hands. He looked down.
It came to Takene that this might be the break she was looking
for and she plopped herself down between his legs, and leaned back,
pressing against his chest. Riltan closed his arms around her and
simply held her. A long time passed before either of them made
another move.
Finally they both stood and made their way back to the camp,
where Iro had busied herself with completing the meal. She was
both pleased at Takene's apparent progress and annoyed that it
was not her who had been there for Riltan. She had backed off,
honouring Takene's request, but she hadn't liked it, nor was
she sure how long she would stay away. She still felt that
Riltan was hers by right.
During the meal Riltan was continually looking around him,
then back to his companions around the cook fire. He was obviously
deep in thought and no one disturbed him.
They would have to leave eventually, he thought, though this
would be a nice place to set up a home. He looked around him.
Yes, it would be a good place, but the children needed people
around them, some sort of schooling - for Lere, at least - and
some young men for Iro. No, as nice as it would be to stay,
staying was not an option.
Where, then, to go? Slindaria was out of the question. Even
if they managed to survive the trek back through the wastelands
it would still be death for him. No one in Slindaria would know,
would care, that he was no longer the one whose name was best
forgotten. They would not forget and sooner or later, most likely
sooner, he would be discovered and discovery would mean death. He
wouldn't even allow himself to think what returning to the
Wastelands would mean to him.
Trianne was also a poor choice. What with the war with
Slindaria, Takene's presence would not be appreciated. That
he had originally come from Trianne would help little - his
long absence would be questioned and those questions he would
not wish to answer.
H'Las would probably be their best bet. It was neutral
and had a reputation for welcoming immigrants. Yes, that
would do fine for all of them. H'Las had been where he'd been
headed anyway. It would make them a . . .
Riltan's speculations came to a crashing halt as something
he had not considered cut across his line of thought. What if
Takene and the others did not wish to come with him? He looked
casually at Takene, beside him, not wanting to communicate
his fear. She smiled at him.
Such beauty in her smile. It almost caused him physical
pain. What right had he to such beauty? Foolish thinking,
that. He had the same right as any man. And he could be good
for them, too - at least he hoped so. He returned her smile.
It had been a long day and soon both Lere and Iro were in
their beds. The sun had disappeared and the twilight was
fading into the night as Riltan made sure that everything was
in it's place. Satisfied, he then sat by the fire, across from
Takene who was holding her hands up to it's warmth.
Takene's eyes appeared to gleam, reflecting the flames
of the fire. In the flickering light, with shadows flitting
across her, her face held a mystery, a beauty, which Riltan
found exhilarating.
His head was cocked to one side and he gazed upon her,
his own face softened by the joy with which he watched her.
Her eyes met his and she smiled warmly at him. His pulse
quickened.
He *was* rather handsome, Takene thought, as she smiled
at him across the fire, and his face was softer now than she
had ever seen it. Not cute, but definitely handsome, she
decided.
Her gaze locked with his and they stared into each other's
eyes, became lost in the gaze. There was a pop from the fire
and the spell was broken. Even so, Takene noted that little
tensions were floating throughout her body. Her stomach, in
particular, was tight. She had the sudden urge to stretch and
obeyed the urge. It amused her to see Riltan mirroring her
action across the fire.
One of them would have to make a first move, she thought,
and pushed herself to her feet. She grinned as Riltan's face
betrayed a disappointment which vanished as she simply moved
around the fire to sit beside him - she wasn't letting him
get away so easily this time, and it seemed that he didn't
wish to get away. It was a promising beginning.
Riltan's relief was great as he realized that Takene was
not leaving the fireside. He moved over slightly, giving her
room to sit on the short log which he was using as a seat.
She placed her hand on his thigh to steady herself as she sat
and he felt the heat from her palm through his pants, heat
which traveled up his leg to warm him throughout.
Riltan tentatively placed his hand over hers, feeling his
stomach jump as he did so. Strange that this should be so
difficult and then again not strange at all. It was all new
to him, not the actions, the emotions. Never before had
he, or his predecessors, felt about another person as he now
felt about Takene. Never before had the need been so great
for his feelings to be accepted and returned. Never before
was the fear so great that they would not be, that any move
he might make would result in the rebuff which would shatter
a dream.
His hand became trapped as Takene covered it with her
other hand, warmed it, held it fast. He bent forward
slightly and added his free hand to the stack. His eyes
moved slowly from their intertwined hands to her face, finding
her eyes already watching his. Was the dream becoming a
reality?
So tentative, she thought, wonderingly. Surely he knew
his advances would not be rejected, that she had long been
pursuing a course leading to this moment. Why else had she
made his bed her own; why else had she held him night after
night, if not for just this purpose? Surely he must know
that . . . .
His eyes found and held hers and her breath caught.
Suddenly she knew and her eyes widened. The look she saw
in Riltan's eyes she had seen in no eyes since her man had
died. For a moment she could not breathe.
Could it be? Had she been that much more successful than
she would have believed possible? She had been trying to lure
him with her body, to bind him with her body, with sex. Instead,
it appeared, he had bound himself, had fallen in love with her.
All that remained was to complete the seduction - he would be hers.
The victory did not bring to her the elation which only
minutes ago it would have. Instead it brought a sorrow, as she
contemplated the turning of another's love into a weapon which
would betray he who loved. She swallowed. It was a hard thing
she did, yet her duty was clear. She smiled into his eyes.
Riltan noted the moment of hesitation, before Takene leaned
her head in to his, saw it disappear and rejoiced - Takene had
made her decision and it was for him. Their foreheads touched
and Riltan felt the joy bubble up through him. She had chosen
him - a conscious decision, not a drifting into a companionship,
into a situation which she had not thought out, but a conscious
decision.
That meant more to the man whose life now consisted of
conscious decisions than he would ever be able to explain.
She had chosen him!
Takene felt Riltan stroke her, gently running his hand
over her head and down her loose hair, over and over. He cupped
her face in his hand and she allowed her head to lean into his
palm. She would have to show him how much she enjoyed this, she
thought, and let out a sigh as she slowly closed her eyes.
It was her duty, she thought, yet a part of her could not
deny the enjoyment of his simple touch, a touch which had for
so long, now, been missing from her life. His other hand slipped
out from under hers and then he was gently holding her face between
his hands. She opened her eyes to find his, mere centimeters away,
gazing at her with such an expression that her breath caught again.
Playfully he moved forward and rubbed her nose with his own,
causing her to smile. Her smile engendered one of his own, and
then he was kissing her, oh so gently, on the corner of her mouth.
His lips wandered slowly along her cheek to her ear and then down
to her neck where he nuzzled her lightly.
The hum of contentment, which began as artifice, became
genuine. Takene could feel the warm breath at her throat,
exciting her, comforting her. Thoughts of her man were put
aside, gently and with care. She had been true to his memory
for these past two years - it was time to allow herself to
enjoy the pleasures of the body, to be with a man again,
even if it was this man.
Takene's hand was at the back of his head, fingers in his
hair, pulling him gently in as he nuzzled her neck. It added
to his joy to feel her beginning to respond, to engage in
their loveplay.
His hand was caressing her hair, gliding down her back,
causing little tremors to run through her. She noticed that
his breathing was becoming a little ragged and grinned as she
noted the same about her own. She opened her eyes, then gasped.
Alerted by her gasp and the light pressure of her hand on
his cheek, Riltan turned his head to see what had captured her
attention. The great moon, full and in all its glory, was rising
above the horizon, a great pale yellow globe.
There was majesty there, in the moon, and somehow they both
felt that it had risen to give witness to them. Both were held
by its beauty for a long moment, then as one they turned back to
each other and came together in a kiss.
He was trembling and didn't know why. He knew only that
she, too, had noticed this and looked at him wonderingly. Then
she was on her feet, drawing him with her, back to their bed.
She pulled his shirt over his head and off, allowed her fingers
to enjoy the feel of his bare skin, stroking his back as he held
her close, then turned to allow him to remove her blouse.
He did so slowly, touching and kissing her shoulders and back
as the blouse was slowly lowered and removed. He turned her to
face him, and they came together in a hug, both enjoying the feel
of skin upon skin.
As if of one mind, they suddenly separated. There was no
more lingering. They both stripped quickly, eager to be naked
in the sight of one another. In his haste to doff his pants,
Riltan fell back onto the bed, causing them both to laugh
quietly.
From his position on his rear Riltan looked up to see
Takene silhouetted by the moon. The beauty of her form took his
breath away. Then she was on top of him, pushing him back, down,
until he was lying flat on his back with her above him. His hands
reached up to stroke her breasts, paying attention to the undersides
and upper slopes as well as the nipples. She shuddered and his
heart leaped inside him.
Takene became aware of the coolness of the air and they took
a moment to scoot beneath the blankets. She still straddled him,
but now had the blanket around her shoulders, creating a tent,
beneath which their hands were active.
He was hard and she was ready so she raised herself and
positioned him at her lips. For a long moment they remained
poised thus, looking into each other's eyes. Then Takene slowly
lowered herself, giving forth with a gasp of pleasure. It had
been a long time, indeed.
Riltan felt himself slip inside the warm wetness of Takene
and felt his entire body thrill at the sensation. He caressed
her sides and arms until she became used to him in her and began
moving. Then he began rocking his hips gently. There was no
hurry, ecstasy could wait.
It was good, so good, being filled by a man once more, yet
Takene couldn't enjoy it to the extent she would have wished.
Thoughts of her purpose distracted her; memories of the stories
told about the man she had mounted broke through and worried her.
Yet this could not be the same man, for Riltan was nothing if not
gentle. He was genuinely concerned for her pleasure, his hands
roaming her body, touching here and there, stroking, tweaking,
caressing.
As she rose and fell on him, his hand lowered to the juncture
of their bodies and his thumb found her clit and lightly rubbed it.
Takene shivered in pleasure and moved faster.
Riltan was finding it more and more difficult to think. His
body was engaged in a lovemaking, the like of which he had only
dreamed. As he rose to a peak, though, he became aware that
she was tiring. She lowered her body to his and he, using his
strength, rose up and turned over with her hanging onto him. Now
on top, he plunged into her more rapidly. Her breathing was coming
in gasps, as was his.
Takene's heels pressed against him, pushing him into her. His
excitement rose and he could hold back no longer. He groaned and
drove into her one last time before coming.
For some moments he lay on her, his weight trapping her,
until he recovered enough to take up his own weight again.
He reached one arm around her and, holding her tight to him,
turned again so she was on top once more, he still held within
her. Much better, he thought, as his hands were free to caress
and stroke her back.
He began talking to her, softly speaking of his love. She would
not understand the words, yet she would know what he was saying. She
was beautiful, she was his world. His touch would let her know of
his love as well.
Her head was resting on his chest, and she could both feel and
hear his heart beat. She heard his words and tears began to form,
to slowly run down until they dropped, one by one, onto him, her
lover. She had not come. It was unimportant. It had been good,
she felt loved and cherished, and next time it would be better. Next
time there would be no fears.
Slowly, in a cloudy haze of contentment, Takene slipped into
sleep. She did not notice it when Riltan stopped murmuring his
sweet words and eased out from under her - even a child would grow
unbearably heavy after a time and she was no child - leaving her
arm across him, her head on his shoulder.
Across the camp, eyes wide in the darkness, Iro had listened
to the sounds, had watched the movements as they sped then slowed.
The low cries of delight had redoubled her intention: she, too,
would have that pleasure - soon. It was her right and Takene would
not stop her.
End of Chapter 4, A Question of Honour, by Delta.
delta @ nym . alias . net
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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