(Rearing Stallion) Liquid Courage (Basha'ir)

[Orion Michaels]

Orion, Day of Summer 84(Early Evening), 512 AV Nope, nope, nope! Not ready for this. "Another drink!" Why the petch am I so nervous? It's just a drink. "Another one, Orion? You just started." Mind your own petching business. My entire persona is falling apart. "Yeah, it was a long day at work." Yeah, thinking about tonight. I believe I'm gonna be sick. Orion sat impatiently at the bar, three empty mugs before him, nodding in thanks as a fourth was set before him. A few drinks couldn't hurt, right? He sighed, looking at the door for what felt like the millionth time. Other's had come and go, but none of them had been her. He left before she said if she would come or not. It didn't matter either way, he supposed. There would be some sort of answer regardless. The doctor was a certifiable mess inside. A character, a method, an existence he had spent the last several years trying to become was crumbling down before him because of the green eyes of one woman? It was enough to make grown man gag. Instead of gagging, though, Orion chose to drink. He figured, get a little buzz going, take the edge off, and it'll be easy to talk. Much smoother. He hadn't planned on his nervousness bringing him to the bar early. So just as his arrival was premature, so was the consumption of alcohol. His heart and mind were racing, while his cheeks had reached a lovely pink shade due to the drinks in his system. Still able to make conversation, Orion had confusingly found a way to be relaxed and worked up at the same time. With each sip of the dark ale, he felt a little better, but at the same time, he pushed himself closer to a dangerous edge. It's just a drink. It's just a drink. To start with. He was already out of the gates. The young physician slowly sipped from the mug before him. Every moment that passed felt like an eternity, and each person who entered only served to dash his hopes. She's not coming, is she? He set his head down on the bar and sighed. "Might as well keep them coming. For one night only, the Orion of four years ago makes a guest appearance. Enjoy, loathe, or whatever it is you'd like."

oocI can only pray this makes any sense. I'm tired, and there might be a chance I nodded off once while typing. Okay, five times. Get off my case.

[Basha'ir]

She was a little bit late. Of course, the time just after nightfall had been a bit vague, and was open to interpretation. So perhaps, really, she wasn’t technically late. But yes, night was well and fully here, the streets of the city dark except for the spots of light given off from the torches set in sconces along the walls. This was part of the problem. Basha’ir had not been in this part of the city since the day she first entered Syliras. She had asked, as discretely as she could, where this Rearing Stallion was located, after she had ascertained that it was a tavern. She had thought that she knew the way, but had ended up taking a wrong turn that seemed to have completely switched her around. It was funny, in a way, how before she knew she was a bit lost, she had reconsidered even going to the tavern with every step she took. Once she had stopped, and decided that she needed to retrace her steps and figure out where she had gone wrong, she became determined to find the damn place. Her irritation at being lost had replaced her trepidation caused by the thought of seeing Orion again. So in the end, as she finally saw the rather plain door with the sign over it, it was probably a good thing that she was perhaps later than she should have been. If she had come straight here, she might have lost her nerve altogether, turned about, and fled.

After expending the effort to find it, and him, though, she paused for only a moment, straightening her veil and pulling her padmina tighter, physical gestures reflecting an inner steeling of herself for what was to come. The butterflies in her tummy were going absolutely mad, and her hands trembled slightly. But with a steadying breath, she moved forward the last few steps, reaching for the handle to the door, and pulling it open.

It had been an emotionally fatiguing two days. Orion had bolted out of the Elegant Weave so quickly that she had no time to even consider his invitation. Or was it a command? A hasty request? Maybe it had just been a casual suggestion. She could only stare after where he had just leapt back through the now closed door, open mouthed, her lips parted in wonder and a rush of tangled emotions. And that had been just the beginning.

For the last forty-eight hours she had reexamined every single exchange that had passed between them. Every look, every nuanced word and phrase. What had been said. What hadn’t been said. And all that she could recall of what lay inside this troubled man.

Then all of that, having been processed and reprocessed, had to be analyzed in light of her gnosis, what part of Orion’s reactions to her were wholly the result of her mark. What parts, if any, were genuine. And in the end, did it really even matter? She was marked. Period. Nikali had blessed her, lifted her from the depths of her despair, and given her a gift that would ensure that Basha’ir would be happy, as long as she could touch another and know their desire and fill it. There was no way to fight it, to disarm it or get around it. So if she was attracted to Orion, if she wished to find out how things could go, without a master to dictate them to her, if she wanted to experiment, to find out if there would ever be a way to experience true desire, all her own, well, Orion’s offer to meet him again seemed as good a place to start as any. She could be nervous and rethink it a hundred times, but that wouldn’t change the fact that, until she tried, she would never know, would she?

So, after work that evening, she had returned to her tiny room and made her careful preparations. How many, many times in the past six years had she readied herself for a night to be spent in the company of a man? She knew how to dress her hair, how to paint her eyes and lips and cheeks, how to choose an outfit that would be the height of appeal, to apply perfume in strategic spots. All this she had done many times over, knowing just how to prepare herself like some exotic, rare, irresistible dish, to tempt even the most discriminating of men. But not this night. This night was for herself.

She had brushed her hair back and gathered it up into a long, full pony tail on the top of her head, tying a bright band of cloth about the base. She selected plain jewelry, taken when she had left Theodoric’s rooms along with the dresses, necklace, earrings, bracelets, anklets. The dress she chose was plain as well, a simple one of bright turquoise, but it reached to her feet and her wrists. The padmina was black, one that she had embroidered with tiny silver leaves and vines, long ago, a favorite of hers. The veil was striped silver and azure, her sandals were just simple ones, unadorned. As for makeup, she wore none whatsoever. Extreme, perhaps, but, if she truly wished to discover what attraction she held for a man, for herself alone and not because of Nikali’s gift, then she might as well do this right.

As she opened the door to the Rearing Stallion, she tried to put a confident look on her face. Glancing about, her eyes went right to him. The lighting was very dim, but there was no mistaking him, it seemed her mind had already imprinted him onto her heart. Without hesitation, though the butterflies were threatening to burst right out of her chest it seemed, she walked right to him, with an affectionate smile on her lips.

“Orion, hello.” She made no attempt to force her voice into dulcet tones but it had a natural low melodious inflection to it.

“I’m sorry I’m a bit late. I took a wrong turn.” She laughed lightly, the same bell like sound as had emanated from her that first time they met.

“How are you this evening? You’re looking well…as are your trousers.” Her smile turned to more of a grin as her eyes dropped to his pants.

[Orion Michaels]

Orion, Day of Summer 84, 512 AV He had spent the the last two evenings locked up in his room, trying not to panic. The young man hadn't gone out, tried out his new pants, read his new book, really done anything of note at all. Just forty eight bells of panic. Of fearing for the worst. Of convincing himself that it didn't matter what happened that evening, to defeating himself with knowledge that it did. It was the same thing he'd gone through with Lyla, and it sucked worse this time. He was supposed to be done with it. It just didn't appear that he could be, though. Everything he'd done, everything he'd worked for, the walls he had put up came falling apart and crashing down because of her. At least he blamed her. He wanted to be angry, be depressed, but all he could do was want to see her. "I'm like an adolescent girl whose crush walks by." The bartender smirked. "Doctor Orion Michaels, smitten instead of smiting? I never thought I'd see the day." Nearly spitting out his drink, Orion attempted to retort the man's statement. "T-that's not what I said! Just keep the drinks coming, jerk." About to give up, Orion sighed, preparing to down his drink, but his plans were altered when her voice made his heart stop. Slowly, he turned to face the woman whose presence he had requested. His eyes shone with genuine surprise, and absolute happiness, as they drank in every inch of the woman standing before him. She looks like that without makeup? Inside he was as giddy as a child with a piece of candy, but all he did was raise an eyebrow. "Hello, ma'am. While normally I would consider that one of the most brilliant lines I've ever heard, I'm afraid tonight, I'm waiting for someone." He shrugged, taking a drink from his mug. "You see, she's got this full personality, a body to drive a man mad, and probably most importantly, she knows how to wear make up to truly bring out her beauty. It's important, you know?" He turned back to the bar for a few moments before continuing. "I'm glad you're here, Basha'ir." He glanced back at her over his shoulder, giving into a grin he'd be fighting. Thank the gods...

[Basha'ir]

Was it wrong of her, to cave in to the temptation to use her auristics? Probably, given her so called determination to do this right and forego as much as humanly possible the use of her gnosis. And she certainly wasn’t going to hypnotize him again (unless things went dreadfully awry and she had no other options). But one teeny peek at his aura, was that really cheating?

Justifying it with a quick declaration in her head that, if she was to know truly what was going on with Orion, without touching him, then this would be a cleaner way to gauge his reaction to her presence, Basha’ir began to focus on him. She could do so without any outward appearance of distraction or overt concentration. As Orion turned, at the sound of her voice, she regarded him with that same slight smirk, all the while a vividly felt picture of certain parts of him were inundating her senses. She smelled the mellow graininess of the ale that he had been consuming, and the sharp prick of perspiration and the clean scent of soap. She heard the rapid beating of his heart, felt the rush of his more shallow breaths against her skin, and the tension of his muscles. She heard the ripples of the underlying anxiety in his voice, his uncertainty as to whether she would show up, and if he even could handle that if she did. About his form she saw a shifting pulse of red and orange, what she knew from her training signified, to her, that the subject of her focus was in a highly emotional state, aroused in some way, excited, full of contained energy.

Not a bad start to the evening.

Of course, any girl could probably have looked at him and guessed all this. But then again, Basha’ir was not just any girl. She was hampered by the veils of Ranuri which made every emotion, every motivation murky. She felt a bit guilty to realize that Orion’s agitation pleased her. It made her feel better to know that, just as she had experienced a great deal of misgivings about this meeting, he too was a bit mixed up over it.

All this took no more than the blink of her thick, dark eyelashes. When he spoke, she was surprised at the rush of pleasure just the sound of his voice triggered inside of her, and the teasing words made her smile widen. Undismayed, she stepped closer, and finally he greeted her by name, and he sounded very sincere, that he was glad that she had come.

Standing beside him, not yet taking a seat, she quipped, “She sounds like a truly incredible woman, this one that you wait for, Doctor Michaels. If I were you, I’d make sure to treat her like a queen, when she does show up. You don’t want a lady like that to slip through your fingers.” Basha’ir was biting down on her lip to keep a straight face.

“Meanwhile, seeing as she has yet to arrive, perhaps you’d do me the favor of sharing a few minutes with me. It seems like we have only met so far in the course of professional endeavors. I’d like to see this other side of you, though...I've seen some of it already.”

She couldn’t hold it in any longer. Basha’ir giggled, raising her hand to cover her mouth, despite the obscuring veil already being in place. It might seem like she just really wasn’t used to that being the case.

Pulling her mouth back into a firmer line, she looked at him, unable to keep the reciprocated pleasure at once again being with him from her own eyes.

“I’m glad I came, Orion. I’m glad you…suggested it. Thank you.”

[Orion Michaels]

Orion, Day of Summer 84, 512 AV He couldn't help but laugh. A truly incredible woman. She couldn't be more correct. He hoped that's the kind of woman it took to reduce him to what he was. Slip through my fingers, huh? "She isn't, isn't she? Don't you worry about her well being. I'm nothing if not a gentleman. Sometimes." I don't think I'd be able to let go. When'd you get so lame, Orion? "Well, if she doesn't show, I think you'll substitute nicely. A few drinks, I'll woo you with tales of the lives I've saved, and you'll be falling into my arms, unable to resist my allure. And if I'm lucky, we'll see if it's red again, today. Or maybe you'd be the lucky one," he added with a teasing wink. "Sound like a good evening?" He shook his head and let out another small laugh. It was such a relief she was here. He didn't know why it was, but it just was. His eyes danced with excitement as he spoke. "I was beginning to worry you weren't going to show, Basha'ir. I was a bit hasty in my arrival," he said, looking over to the several mugs of ale, "so I'm afraid you'll have to play catch up. Bartender, get her whatever she'd like. Please, sit." He touched her hand gently as he motioned for her to join him. So many thoughts were racing through the young man's head. He'd gotten her here, but that was all the further out he'd planned. What would they do. He had so many things he wished to bring up. She hadn't seemed allowed to leave the apartment when they first met, but last time she was working and alone. Had her guardian had a change of heart? Did she like red? As always, the young doctor was nearly drooling over her inside. Had she worn the long dress to tease him, he wondered. Even the slightest exposure of her skin was tantalizing, so if that was her aim, it was working on the young doctor. Even the veil drove him mad. He couldn't tell if she just didn't want to let others see her, or if she was playing him like a lute. Either way, he was extremely into it. Do...Do I show her Orion? Or who I want the world to see...? Realizing his hand was upon hers, he pulled away blushing slightly. He took a quick drink before addressing her. "Ah...sorry. A few too many drinks, it makes me all hands!" A convenient excuse. A lie. He wanted to feel her skin again.

[Basha'ir]

He laughed and Basha’ir thought it was such a pleasant sound. But just as she was smiling back at his continued teasing, raising an eyebrow in an amused skepticism at his prognosis for the evening and considering the implications of his confession of his early arrival, she froze. For in motioning her to sit beside him, he had touched her hand. His fingers brushed over the side of it, and instantly she was flooded with the physical desire coursing through him, and she felt a co-occuring wave of lust spread outward from her center to occupy every fiber of her body. She knew how badly he wanted her, even despite her attempt at dressing modestly, and in a way to forestall touching skin to skin, and she wanted nothing more than to give herself to him and feel the pleasure that he she could give him as her own.

At the same time, she felt a lesser undercurrent of need, a need to show her some other side of himself, the Orion he kept so carefully hidden away. He wanted, at some level, for her to know this more genuine Orion, and so of course, she instantly wanted to do whatever she could to bring that person out of him, to help him to trust, to let him know that she would accept this other Orion as well as the outrageous flirt that was his exterior persona.

The two were not mutually exclusive, and she would see to it that both were fulfilled. This careful, teasing dance of flirtation would provide the foreplay to an evening that he would never forget, not this time. Nor would she leave him with a single regret. They would come together in a way like he had never known and then she would coax him, lull him, into knowing that she could be trusted with his deepest secrets. She would . . .

His hand moved away, and she blinked. She swallowed and turned away her troubled eyes, which had burned with passion a moment before. Sinking down onto the seat beside him, she withdrew her hands, as casually as she could, and placed them in her lap. Orion would have to get quite forward to reach to touch them there.

Her eyes dropped to a contemplation of her hands, as she replied softly, “I’m afraid I’m no real substitute for that wonderful lady. She…she sounds almost too good to be true. Something conjured up with…magic.”

The bartender was now standing near them, waiting patiently for her order.

"Water, please,” she told him.

Summoning her resolve to look upon this evening as a trial, of sorts, and feeling as if the first challenge had not gone so very well, she managed to look at him again. “Please, don’t apologize, Orion.” She gave him a truly frank look. “You don’t ever need to apologize to me, for anything that happens.”

Pausing, she forced a tiny smirk to her lips. “And I don’t mind if they are red. It’s my favorite color.”

The bartender was already back, placing a cup before her, his face clearly saying that he thought very little of a customer who did not order a real drink. As more of a diversion than for any real thirst, Basha’ir lowered her veil, letting the part that had covered her mouth and chin fall about her shoulder, then raised her cup and took a sip of cool water.

[Orion Michaels]

Orion, Day of Summer 84, 512 AV Orion's eyes widened as he noticed her brief pause, the look in her eyes, and her averted gaze. He brought his hand to his mouth, covering a huge grin before he let out a boisterous laugh. "Basha...Basha'ir! That look!" Orion was stammering, and moved his hand chest level, burying his forehead in its palm. "That was magnificent! The absolutely single most intense gaze I've ever seen." Shaking his head, he looked up at her, his eyes watery with laughter. "And water?" His gaze lingered on her as she looked away. "No, Basha'ir. You are magic. That other woman has nothing on you." Whoever he had imagined her to be, the one he'd been the one to conjure in his mind, he'd thrown her to the side. Don't apologize? He froze for a moment, thrown off by her seriousness. She was serious, right? His heart raced due to words that were more intense to him than the look he had seen moments before. A grin slowly spread across his lips again, as he spoke with a tone of realization, one of acceptance. "...Okay. You know what? Okay, Basha'ir. I'm with it. I don't know why I apologize, but okay. I warn you, though. I'm kind of disgusting if you really get to me. I might make you regret those words, and I won't feel bad." He winked at her, wonderment dancing on his face. "And...I feel like you won't either." If his grin could get any bigger, it did as she said the word 'red'. "I feel like you're so genuine." He paused to take a drink of dark ale. "I'm..disarmed. I'm enchanted." Orion shrugged, the drink loosening his lips. "I'm interested." The doctor watched her, his grin shrinking to a small smile. He really didn't know what he wanted when he asked this next question. Maybe just to hear her speak, maybe to hear what she would say, or maybe he just wanted it all. "Who....who are you?"

[Basha'ir]

Her smirk softened back into a more genuine smile as he gave her fair warning about his being a reprobate. But then, as if he was the one who could read her like a book, he used that word, genuine, and the smile slipped away. Basha’ir felt like she was on a swing, up and down and back and forth, her emotions running wild and her tummy in a delicious yet treacherous whirl of elated chaos. How could he make her feel like this? When all he had to do was to look at her like that, to laugh, at her, at himself. Was it really Orion, or just the isolation that she had been kept in? She had met many men, and some had caught her eye, just for their good looks. But whenever she had interacted with any man, she had to wonder about the gnosis. This…this was so different.

And the question that came, it was not so unexpected, though it was asked in a way that was a bit disarming. She might have expected to hear those generic questions, where did you come from, who were your parents, why do you have a guardian, how did you learn to sew. But he had asked, who are you, as if he really wished to know. She had been prepared for this, but still, the form of the question threw her off.

For a moment, she contemplated her cup, then she brought her eyes back to his. She had tried lying, the day before, to the holy one with the milky eyes. It made her feel bad. She was safe, wasn’t she? Even if the knights found out somehow that she had been a slave, that wasn’t allowed here. They would have freed her themselves, if Theodoric had been alive. So what was there to fear?

Nothing really. But there was so much to be ashamed of, if Orion learned the whole truth. So very much…

“Yes, sometimes the truth is ugly, Orion. But…I think, I can handle it. I don’t think I would ever regret knowing who you really are. As for me…well…” It was difficult to go on, but if this was an experiment in truth, well then, here was a test of her “genuiness.”

“I am Basha’ir, once a slave but now, no longer. I am a free woman, and I am my own woman. I have a job, and a room, and I am setting my feet on a journey, and time will tell just how far I will go.” She gave him a quirky smile, one of self-deprecation yet containing a hint of hope, and optimism.

“That’s perhaps not exactly what you were asking, but, that is a genuine answer.” Her smile became more sure. “The rest is yet unwritten. Perhaps you’d like to help me with a line or two.”

[Orion Michaels]

Orion, Day of Summer 84, 512 AV Orion listened attentively, patiently, as she answered. An ugly past, one surely marked with horrors, he supposed, and suddenly he felt guilty. Guilty for how he had viewed her before. Every time he thought he had a glimpse into this beauty, she would share with him another layer, another part of who she was, and as for him? He was terrified she would soon see that he was nothing but layers of shyte hiding a wound that time had seemingly forgotten. But she was here. She wanted no apologies, and it seemed like she had this....this "..insight," he whispered quietly to himself. She always seemed to say what would alleviate his fears, like she already knew his tales, like his story had been read to her. It seemed impossible. Slave. There was that word. He raised an eyebrow, and at least one aspect of their relations seemed to make a little more sense. "A..slave? I..So when we met..that man was..and now he's?" He trailed off, asking several questions, though already knowing the answer. "Surely that's...that's why I felt so uneasy about our first meeting, Basha'ir." He leaned forward, tilting his head slightly to the side to look fully into her eyes. "If I had known.." he took a deep breath. "There's no petching way I'd have left you there. I'd have taken you from there, you know?" The physician didn't realize she knew him and his actions better than he. He shook his head. "A line or two. Seems..short, but I'll do what I can." He tried to give her a reassuring smile. "Let's see...a slave now freed, you're a working woman out on her own. A good start, but what is missing?" He brought a hand to his chin, stroking it with exaggerated movements. "I've got it. After you were freed, you met this charming, confusing, extremely good looking doctor whose quips, kindness, and general manliness left your knees weak...and...wanting to know him, too." He trailed off, his eyes showing a pang of sadness. "Just a few lines. I hope they suffice, Basha'ir."

[Basha'ir]

She watched his face as she spoke, resisting the urge to use her auristics again on him. She wanted so badly to just be without those sneaky skills. She didn’t want to use them, on him. It seemed so unfair, especially when he thought her so above board and real. No discernible look of contempt or revulsion leapt to his handsome features, and she knew, from their other encounter, that Orion was not the kind of man to think or feel that way. But still, she wondered, what did he really make of that bald statement about her past.

There it was again, though, the gallantry, the desire to come to her rescue, the underlying reason for why she had chosen to use hypnosis on him then. Basha’ir realized with a rush of pleasure that at least this would not be necessary, not this time, for there was no more Theodoric. She did not need rescuing any longer, and this brave, foolish man need not risk himself, not for her sake.

She smiled at that certainty, and at his silliness, as he pretended to think, though he seemed to taper off into a sadness that she thought she knew the reason behind. Having to quell a sudden impulse to reach for his hands, she gripped her own together tightly in her lap.

“That sounds like an excellent start,” she said, in an amused tone. “I think you have described him perfectly, this doctor. Though perhaps you left out how extremely intelligent he is. And he has excellent taste.” She gave him a saucy grin. “I can’t wait to hear more. Perhaps time will fill in a few more lines for me., if my luck holds.”

Taking a sip of water, Basha’ir continued in a more serious tone. “Yes, Theodoric, was my owner, not my guardian. Of course, he could not let it be known I was a slave, so he told me to tell that tale to any who might ask or be curious. He…he died, only a little less than two weeks ago. It was very sudden. So I had to find a job, but I can not tell you how…how happy I’ve been.” She looked down at the table, a bit abashed, but her voice was firm, and non-apologetic. “I know that must sound harsh, and unfeeling, but…I’m not sorry. Not sorry at all, that he died. Seventeen years a slave, and now, freedom. It’s…it’s wonderful.”

Almost shyly she raised her eyes to him again, as if expecting perhaps to see some censure there, for her treasonous emotions. Her voice softening, she said, “I know, Orion. I know that you would have tried to take me away, if…if you had known.”

Looking into those intense blue eyes, she thought, You should just tell him. It will be alright. He won’t care what you are…what you did to him. Go on, just say it. But she found she could not summon the courage to be completely honest with him, to risk losing this moment to his sudden realization of all that she could do for him. Not now. Not Yet.

“I could tell, you were a good man. If…if I had told you, I know you would have tried to help me.”

She paused again, the taste of that half-truth leaving a bitterness in her mouth, and a shadow on her soul.

“At least, I felt that you were such a man, Orion. But, I would like to know you, whatever part of yourself you feel you could share with me.” The girl who was trying so hard to become an independent, self-sufficient, free person found herself floundering a bit, looking into those wistful eyes.

“I’m…enchanted too, Orion.”