Vast Fields Of Light

Chapter 8

He smiled fractionally and nodded once in recognition. "So... what, then?"

She sighed and looked out again at the view, turning to rest her hands on the ledge.

"Ever since I was a teenager - or even earlier..." she eventually started, "men have tended to give me only two kinds of attention. Either they see only my title, and I am the Princess of Alamut, to be feared or admired from a distance, or mocked for my pride and stubbornness..." She paused and her lip curled in displeasure. "Or, they look at me as if I am a piece of meat strung up on a butcher's hook, and they are trying to guess how much I cost."

Dastan puffed a breath out through his nose and looked down with a wry half-smile, hair falling in his face as he stayed silent and continued to listen. She reached out and placed her hand on his forearm, unable to keep the softness from her voice. "But, from the very beginning, you have always looked at me... as if you see me as your equal."

He looked up and met her eyes with warm concentration, and his lips quirked faintly as she raised her hand to stroke her fingers over his cheek.

"I wouldn't dare to do otherwise," he said in a low voice.

She smiled a little and nodded slowly, leaving a careful silence before gathering her wits again.

"I didn't come here to ask for your permission, Dastan. Only your help."

He sighed heavily again and shook his head softly as if to shake off exhaustion, then wiped a hand over his face before looking up to meet her eyes.

"Of course, you will have it," he finally said with sad certainty. "Of course."

She watched him quietly, and relief slowly caused a sincere smile to edge over her face. "Thank you."

He lifted a hand to gently stroke his thumb across each of her cheeks in turn; a loosening flurry of warmth ribboned over her skin, and suddenly she found herself stepping in close to him and slipping her arms around his waist. She rested her head in the crook of his neck and felt him embrace her quickly, one strong arm pulling her waist close to his and the other encircling her shoulders. Tamina closed her eyes and breathed quietly as the solid warmth of his body slowly made the boundaries of her senses feel hazy. She lifted her head only when he mumbled something she could not hear properly.

"Hmm?" she asked, looking up into his blue eyes.

"I would follow you anywhere," he repeated gruffly.

Her tender smile came easily; she tilted her face upwards without thinking and saw his eyes focus quietly before he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Sweetness spread through her body until she pulled away with the faintest sigh, and Dastan pulled back a little to look at her carefully.

"I-" Tamina hesitated and exhaled, stepping back from him enough to break their embrace. "I need to get some sleep. There are many arrangements to make tomorrow..."

He furrowed his brow. "You're not leaving now, are you? Sleep here." She watched him thoughtfully, and his lips quirked as the warmth in his eyes carved the ache from the distance between them. "I can take the floor. -I'm used to it..."

Tamina gave a faint smile and finally nodded slowly. "You do not need to sleep on the floor, Dastan... but-" She paused and he tipped his head forward a fraction to indicate he was listening. "This time, we really will just sleep."

He exhaled an amused breath and nodded. "I will behave myself, Princess."

She mirrored his half-smile as he stepped away from her and bent to blow out a candle on a side table. "I suppose there is a first time for everything, Prince," she muttered, and he flicked a smirking look back over his shoulder at her.

Shaking her head, Tamina crossed to the bed and got in, quickly removing her shawl and moving to leave plenty of space beside her as Dastan blew out the candles around the chamber. She lay and watched warily as he approached the bed with a familiar warmth in his eyes and at his lips. Then he blew out the final candle and she blinked in the sudden blackness, not moving as she felt the bedcovers lift and the mattress sink beside her.

Dastan made no attempt to touch her. They exchanged a few brief words about the arrangements for the next day, then said goodnight, and a still silence settled.

Tamina lay on her back, staring unseeingly at the ceiling and wondering what to do with the crackling sensation that was tracing up and down the side of her body nearest to her husband, the sensation of being cliff-edge close to the beginning of a thunderstorm. In her mind's eye she saw another version of herself, sleeping on cold desert sand with a Persian warrior nearby, and she wondered if that Tamina had felt the same sensation.

Heaving a sigh, she turned away from Dastan and shifted onto her side. As his breathing slowed and steadied beside her, she closed her eyes and prayed she was right that the gods would let her survive.