Completed A Fever Hotter Than The Desert

[Noah Amuel]

Underneath the blanket Elann sniffled words his way, reminding him of the cloths in her room, the ones he had forgotten. He untucked his legs from under his body and placed his feet on the floor, ready to rise and retrieve the cloths from her room, but her next statement let him relax a little more. She commented on the tiredness of his body, the bags under his eyes denoted as much. He shrugged in response; it was nothing to him, the tiredness, it was her sickness which begged the most attention. Then she asked about the snow.

With another nod to answer her question on the snow, he was up from the chair, padding across the front room to her bedroom. Through the door he went, eyes glossing over the still cool bedroom until they stumbled upon the cloths atop the nightstand. Some of them had been used but he determined there were still enough unused or lightly used ones to give to Elann. He gathered them in his hands, giving the room another look over as he did so. Truthfully he nevered considered the possibility he would ever be in Elann’s room, let alone caring for her as she did him. His usually quick gazed settled longfully on the edge of her bed, the place where their fates had merged into one, her becoming his new bondmate, and him pledging to save her from the sadness she felt then and any she would feel in their time together.

He stood, cloths in one hand, the other pressing against the shirt he was wearing, one of the few she created for him while he was sick and under her care. A part of him felt sullen for not having the ability to create useful things for her. All he had at his disposal was his being and new knowledge of her personality. In that moment it became obvious to him that while he couldn’t care for Elann in the way she did him and potentially others, he could protect her from whatever harm came their way.

The free hand drifted from his chest to his trouser pocket, fingers gripping the stone grey necklace his mother had given him the day he departed from Zeltiva to Syliras. The closeness he felt with his mother was waning. The coming of winter marked the third year in which he was on his own in Syliras, his connection with his parents, still prevalent and fresh in his memories, was fading in comparison to the bond he shared with Elann now. He felt as if he should write his parents in Zeltiva, then and there, but whenever it came down to quill and paper the words refused to will themselves to the parchment. He knew his mother worried, but if his mind wouldn’t allow the words he wished to come from him, what was he to do?

The thoughts collapsed in on themselves and was flushed from his mind, fingers gripping at the cloths in his hand. Finally he pivoted to turn back towards the bedroom door. Once back in the front room he put the cloths on the coffee table in front of the couch before moving back towards the hearth where the crackle of fire caught his attention. As he reached for the larger logs in her wood pile to fuel the growing flame he spoke. “Say, since you,” he paused, delicacy now in his voice, “were disowned, you don’t have a surname anymore do you?” He peeked over his shoulder, eyes glancing back at her should he be able to see her. “If not,” he continued, shifting a log onto the fire, “why not create your own?”

He stood, dusting his hands off on his trouser legs then turned to face her, still standing, an inquisitive look overtaking his features.

[Elann]

.

Normally so defensive of the territory of her room, Elann had become more open in the past weeks with Noah. Still, he had to respect that boundary, but he was rapidly becoming closer to her in heart and mind. What normally would have sparked curiosity in her, him taking so long in her room, instead was dissipated into nothingness. She didn't care that he was in there retrieving her cloths. She trusted him, and in that, knew that whatever he was doing was for her benefit. Instead, her breath became heavy and her eyes closed. In the time he spent in her room, her nose cleared up, preparing her for sleep again, and so it happened that in the short time he looked about and at his necklace, she fell asleep once more.

Her mind was on snow. The beauty of it was still fresh in her heart and mind, and though she loved its beauty, she really wished it would stop falling or that it wasn't as cold as it was. There she stood in her dream, Noah speaking to her about how it was still snowing; that it would last many more days, that people would be in danger of it. Her fear and the sound of him emerging again woke her up and she looked at him with sleepy eyes. Only a short moment had passed, but for Elann it seemed much longer.

He came and left the cloths near her and she reached out for one, dabbing her nose with it before setting it on the couch beside her. "Thank you for getting those." she said, her voice crackling a bit, threatening to make her cough. Elann cleared her through and watched him move to the fire. The heat had yet to spread much, but already being under the dual blankets helped her warm up.

His words slowly caught her attention, and their delicacy all the more so. Her head lifted off the pillow, curious as to what brought up the subject at this juncture in time. Her brain thumped in response to her attempting to activate it to think on such a topic and she fell into the pillow dramatically, sniffing in what threatened to fall from her nose. A whimper sounded from her and she curled up in response to the question, not liking it at all, even if he had a point.

Her eyes settled on him a moment later and she stated, "Don't you know my brain has died right now?" A playful smile grew over her face and she let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't know to tell you the truth. If I'm being honest, I've been trying not to think about such things like that. I don't know what to think. I'm lost in a sandstorm and have no idea which way to go or what to think on thoughts like that."

Other's Words ~~ My Words ~~ My Thoughts

[Noah Amuel]

Despite the playful smile she openly displayed during her answer, Noah couldn’t help but regret asking the question in the first place. He wasn’t quite sure what urged him to ask it. Maybe it was that he was thinking his parents and family and the thought connected with the new fact that Elann, technically, had none anymore. Unless you counted him, as she apparently did. He recalled on the times that she had spoke of him as her brother, family member, and the times she stated that she loved him.

Sullenly he sulked, sitting down where he stood, back to the fire, but remaining near the hearth. “Right,” he spoke lowly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.” He stammered, “I was just thinking about my parents and…” He decided to stop talking altogether. There was a reason he stayed quiet most of the time: his mouth was as clumsy as he was tall. The heat from the fire emanated forward and spread across his back, piercing the cloth of the shirt that separated his skin from the open world. He was comfortable there in the heat, fatigue of his mind lulling with the fatigue of his body from yesterday’s exploits.

His head dropped, eyes coming to the floor of Elann’s apartment. There was a rug placed under her coffee table and under the couch she lay on. It fascinated him how the fibers of warm rug gave way, immediately, to the cold stone making up the rest of her floor. He could see why she chose to have rugs in her place. She was a warm person after all, thus it made sense for her home to be warm and abiding as well. In comparison to her apartment, his was relatively drab, unfurnished.

In his quiet he remembered the black tea kettle over the fire. Soon it should start whistling and he’d want to be ready for when it sounded its signal of completeness. He stood again and turned to face the hearth, the only sound coming from him was the shift of his feet and the breath he breathed. Without straining he reached for one of the jars atop the hearth, opened it, then brought the opening to his nose. Taking a simple whiff he confirmed that it was tea, one of the blends that held a more herbal and earthy smell as opposed to the fruity and grassier ones he experienced before.

He went about the room, gathering the cups from where she stored them, then filling the cups with a spoonful of the loose leaf tea each. He replaced the lid back on the jar of tea just as the kettle began to whistle.

[Elann]

.

Now Elann felt bad. She had always encouraged him to speak more, and now she had just shut him down on a subject she would never have thought he would bring up. She had told the truth though. She hadn't thought on the subject and had been avoiding it at all costs. As he headed away from her and began to smell her tea, she watched him. The fire illuminated him, giving him a glow all of his own within the dimmed room.

Regret took her and she contemplated what to say. Eventually, in croakish voice, she said, "Don't...don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. You are right, correct," she sniffled and brushed her hair from her face. "I suppose I don't want to think about it because it's so daunting and still fresh in my heart," she chuckled, "on top of being sick."

She let out a whimper as she rolled onto her back, facing upward at the ceiling. Slowly she reached under herself and brought her hair up to fan out over the pillow so it wasn't pressed underneath her. She then brought the blankets up to her chin and tugged at them with a tucked in lip in thought. After a moment had passed, she said, "I wish I had studied my Penita scrolls better. I have always tried to read them from the copies my father had, but now I can't remember everything they said. I feel like I know Yahal's will and how he works, but what if I'm wrong? How do I live my life in Yahal if I am no longer of the Sons of Rapa? Will he abandon me too?" She didn't think so, but the gods were temperamental. What she knew of Yahal though was that he loved her, even now. She had done nothing wrong, she had done his will, and now here she was.

"You follow the God of Storms-- what would you do in my situation?" she turned her head to face him, but found it put strain on her neck and increased her headache. For that reason she angled her back so she was both facing upward and slightly to the side. What advice could Noah give her? She knew he had wisdom in him, perhaps not world experience or the experience of a human, but he wasn't dumb. She looked directly at him, seeking the answer to how she needed to be, how she needed to feel, and where to go from there. "At least tell me what you were thinking about your parents and...?" she asked inquisitively to what he had cut himself off at.

Other's Words ~~ My Words ~~ My Thoughts

[Noah Amuel]

There was silence apart from the whistling of the kettle. It was beginning to annoy him, consistently a stream of airy alertness. He worked quickly to equip the dusty cloths by the hearth and then grab at the handle of the kettle, pulling it from the fire. Finally, as the kettle came in contact with cooler air, its whistled died out. With two hands, cloth in each one, he raised the kettle to the top of the hearth where the glasses sat with dry tea leaves inside them. Gently, he tilted the kettle’s spout over one of the cups, steam erupting from it as scalding water met dry leaves. The steam, as if magical, escaped into the air and dissipated from his view. He did the same to the other glass, more of the scalding water dribbling its way into it, the same steam erupting into the air, disappearing from his sight.

Her admission came at a surprise. He was so engrossed in his task that the first two sentences she spoke were lost midst his concentration, only her expression that he was right, that he was ‘correct’, reached his ears, a sniffle coming afterwards. He understood her reasoning for keeping the thoughts he provoked at bay: it was too big a task to request of her, plus she didn’t feel well. Regardless, the apologetic feeling didn’t flee from his mind’s theater.

There was a clank, him replacing the kettle on its hook outside the hearth. He listened to her whimper and the couch’s own as she moved about on it. Then came her voice again. As she spoke Noah raised his hands to their cups, steam swirling on the surface of the browning liquid before losing its hold and rising into the air. He watched it as it wound back and forth in a natural pattern, eventually becoming too distanced from its source to continue to appear in his vision. He took a breath, filling his lungs to capacity, then exhaled, slow and deep. As the breath left his lungs, air of magical conjuration emitted from his fingertips and palm, his god given ability being tapped by the mental wishes of his mind. The steam was expelled from its home atop the tea. Another breath was inhaled then exhaled and another soft pulse of conjured wind was produced from his hands, cooling the tea enough for him to carry it to the coffee table with ease and minimal danger from scalding once they drank the cups’ contents.

As he finished his minute ritual, borrowing from the winds of the God of Storms, Elann’s voice came asking questions of her devotion to Yahal, her own patron deity. Next she asked of Noah’s own deity, what he would do in her situation regarding Zulrav. To him the answer was simple. “Talk to your god,” he replied, grasping the cups in his hands, turning to face her, then walk towards her and the coffee table. He set the cup he dubbed as hers on the corner of the table nearest her, curling up in the comfy seat, knees pressed to his chest, afterwards. “Your’s the God of Faithfulness and,” he paused in thought, “Purity, right? He sounds as if he’s the most understanding of them all. I see no reason for him to abandon you, especially in your time of need, considering you are the embodiment of what he stands for.”

He brought his own cup to his lips, warm, bordering hot, tea filling his mouth space. He swallowed, continuing, “I bet he’s as understanding as Zulrav, if not more.” He took another sip in light of her second request. “I was just missing my mother and father, that’s all. I want to write to them but don’t know what to write about.”

[Elann]

.

The blankets that were draped up over her chin came down slowly to rest upon her neck as he poured the tea. Her own questions shortly followed as he finally had approached her. His statement, to talk to her god was just what she needed to hear. She loved to pray to Yahal, seeking his wisdom in anything and everything she did. She had prayed to him long and hard the entire boat ride to Syliras, and despite the chances of infection on her hand, she was very blessed to be perfectly fine now. She could have died in a street somewhere, but instead her funding was just enough to supply her with this home. Here she prayed for many days, and here Noah was in her life, helping her as if the embodiment of her prayer fulfilled. Her hands slid from the edge of the blanket down to her stomach as she laid there, watching him kindly set the tea down for her and take his normal spot in her chair.

The thought of being warm once more filled her with pleasure. With a little groan, she sat up, moving a hand to her head to reduce the feeling of her headache. Once more the cold of the room graced her legs as they slid out from under the blanket. With care, she righted her tunic to cover them and then wrapped the blanket around her feet and body. Once settled, her hands wriggled their way out of the wrapped blankets and found her cup. His words spoke volumes, and as both of them settled, him on his chair, and she on the couch, she was all the more happy she asked him. His words were a compliment to her, and the face that had become pale, seeming to slip closer to death, now became a bright rosy hue, full of life. He could not have complimented her more if he had tried.

Bashfully she whispered, "Thank you..." She swallowed the lump in her throat and washed it down with some tea, closing her eyes as the golden liquid rushed down to warm her from the inside. She let out a little sigh of contentment and then took another drink. Afterwards she looked to him as he commented on Zulrav. "I think you are right...Yahal hasn't abandoned me, and I'm sure he is faithful even still. I am sure if Zulrav has compassion and faith toward you, Yahal would have faith toward me. I just don't know what to do. I guess I will pray some and hope the answer comes. I know he hears me." She had prayed so much that her father and her would be reunited that now that this all happened, she was shaken.

He finished his sip and she listened to the plight of his heart. "Love. Love is always a good thing to tell your parents," she said longingly, almost as if wishing to communicate such to her own. "Tell them that you love them and miss them greatly. You can't wait to see them again. These types of things. You can even mention me. Mention the fact we've bonded and we think it's going well. You can write to them about our hunting trip and how horrible I am at a slingshot and hunting, and how you have to basically do all the work," she giggled a little nasally, which was as much as she could muster at the moment in her sickened state. She sniffed and then drank some more tea, finishing off the cup quickly. "Then you can mention how I got sick and how you had to take care of me because I'm too stubborn to go lay down." She was being facetious naturally.

Other's Words ~~ My Words ~~ My Thoughts

[Noah Amuel]

‘Love’ she said first, then to mention her and the fact that she was his bondmate, then their hunting, then her sickness. Her giggle brought a smile to his face, nasally as it was. It held the charm that he had grown to adore in her. Her laugh, no matter the tone, was jovial and mirrored as much in him. He recalled the days of their first meeting, how she invited him to come to her home, extending the invitation as if she wished to forge a friendship with him. If he had not offered to help her with her bags, help her to her room, as he did, then they might not have become as close as they were today.

It was a scary thought, the lining of consequences to his past actions that brought him into the lobby the day she arrived, the day rain threatened the city. Her boat had just docked and she, seeking shelter, warmth, a place to stay, came to the Traveler’s Row, to the place he called home. He was thankful that the fates, the stars, lined up in such a way, allowing Elann to walk into his life and for him to be blessed by her consistent kindness, laughter, love. His smile remained, his eyes gazing in her direction, dreaminess threatening to cloud his vision.

“Yes,” he nodded, “I’ll write to them about you and our hunting and your sickness.” He laughed, light, airy, and happy. “And your stubbornness and how I think it’s contagious.” Another ounce of laughter left him. Though his smile persisted he took a drink, slowly considering what she said with a serious mind. There was so much more he could write to his family about as long as she was a facet of the thought. The bauble of their life standing out the most despite it all was his love for, requited or not, it was prevalent and an everlasting, yet unspoken, pledge from him to her.

“When you’re better we should try again. I think you did a good job, especially on the fox we caught. Then, when it warms up we can go further out and, when you’re better with your slingshot, catch bigger stuff.” It was a hopeful thought, yet true. He believed Elann held the potential to become a stellar huntress should she allow herself to take up the trade. She possessed the stubbornness, will, determination, and boldness required to become a successful and skilled hunter, he believed. No matter how many times she failed in life, she seemed the type to pull through and try, try, try again, a beat unmissed by her unfaltering steps.

“What do you think?” he asked, cup traveling to his lips once more.

[Elann]

.

She hummed with excitement despite the grogginess in her mind. The tea she drank seemed to clear her sinuses a bit and somehow eased the tension in her headache. Finally feeling a bit warmer, she looked amazingly better; still sick, but better. He had taken such good care of her today and had just been a constant supply of good help, that she just was so enamored by him that he would take the time to stick around and make her take care of herself and him take care of her. It really put into perspective for her the care that she had shown him those weeks in the past and how he must have felt miserable having to take her help, and yet blessed at the same time. Who knew if he thought that way? She just considered it was a possibility.

As Elann spoke of what to write about, Noah seemed to agree to writing his parents on the subjects she had mentioned, however his swift openness and willing nature to write about her stubbornness made little lines of tension appear at the side of her mouth as she playful smirked toward him.

"You can not be so excited at the chance to write about my stubbornness," she said jokingly with a playful squint/wink his direction. She let out a sigh that sounded of contentment as she leaned back into the couch. "I wish I could write well. Beautiful flowing scripts. They have always impressed me in old books. It is like they are romantic." She seemed to dwell on the thought, having something in her mind for a moment.

He spoke of their hunting trip, or outing, since it was just outside the gates, and she could sense the hope in him. She too felt it. She couldn't tell if it was the bond between them or not, but she just had to tell him now. "You know what Noah?" she set down her cup on the table, almost as if ready to speak in a serious manner, however her face betrayed that thought process. "I have never had a more fun day in all my life." She couldn't be more serious. The look on her face was of pure delight, as much as a sick person could seem to be delighted. "I can't stop thinking about it. It is like...I felt like myself for once." She giggled a little bit and sniffled, but then said in a more serious tone, "If you want to, when I get feeling better we can even go try again."

He had not seen her passions in their relationship much. Singing, dancing, Yahal, and now hunting were things in her life that she was focused on. When Elann was focused on something, it was intense. The more she thought about him coming down and grabbing at those animals with his large wingspan beating in the wind, the more she wished she was out there again, trying to get them herself. She knew nothing of conservation or rules of hunting, she just was out there being herself, and Noah guided her well.

Other's Words ~~ My Words ~~ My Thoughts

[Noah Amuel]

The call of his name from her mouth caused him to cease in taking the sip from his tea. He brought the cup to rest in his lap as hers went down to the table, a light clattering of the coffee table against the bottom of the teacup resounding as it came down. He hummed in question, wondering where she was headed after her gesture of seriousness. His brows animated to say the same as his hum, perking up quickly, letting his eyes drift from the set-down teacup to her face, of which betrayed the serious manner of way she set down her teacup.

Attentively he listened to what she had to say, the delight in her voice apparent despite her sickness. The tone in her voice, although dulled by the sickness, sounded minutely clearer, enough to detect. He wondered if it was the tea or if it was because she was up and moving around. She expressed she felt like herself, free and unbound, but also that she couldn’t stop thinking about their time together on the field. Her words brought him a long lasting happiness that he couldn’t explain initially as it crept into his thoughts, gracefully elevating his mood and ridding him of the lasting emotions of shame lingering from moments earlier.

“Okay,” he answered her, a nod and a small smile accompanying the movement, “we can go again once you’re better.” He brought his teacup to his lips again, taking the last dribbles of warming liquid into his mouth. Once swallowed he sat there, teacup lowered into his lap, with thoughts swirling around the center of his mind, like a rotary of short lasting images, breaths of moments captured and emitted briefly.

Even though his conscious resided within his head, his eyes were watchful of Elann, calculated gaze gazing, flickering over her features at first before washing over the details of her face in a wave of longing. To him she was, without a doubt, beautiful in every sense of the word. He didn’t know if it was his bond with her that made him yearn for her in the way he did, not platonically or sexually, but romantically, to simply hold and be held by her, to share the joy that was slowly becoming common ground to them both. Or was it the deepness of her eyes, a vast sea whose unseen torrents often pulled him deeply within, engulfing him in a nearly irresistable splash of cheerful, fierce, yet kind water.

He recognized then, as his eyes fell upon her lips, that he craved her physical touch. It was not sexual lust, the carnal desire to lay with a woman, but the civilian need that he believed all creatures desired, human or not, in their lives. Perhaps it was the winter ice getting under his skin, the fire that he started nearby not proving to be enough warmth to knock the chill from his bones. He thirsted for the heat of the desert, for the feverish Benshira sitting before him. There was an ache in his being, an itch begging to be scratched, but his hands weren’t bold enough to relieve him of it. His mouth was not audacious enough to audibly admit that he loved her more than their current relationship displayed.

The brazen thought of him expressing what he wanted to say entered his mind’s theater, bringing forth the realization that his words bore more weight than originally thought. There was no telling how the words ‘I love you’ would alter his current, comfortable relationship with Elann. It was a chance he wasn’t sure he was ready to take, a game he did not want to play with as the odds were uncertain. Instead he remained quiet, pulling his eyes from Elann abruptly and sticking them into the bottom of his empty teacup.

[Elann]

.

A bright grin, with a tired, snuffly look spread over the Benshira's face as he agreed to go out with her on another journey. She hoped it would stop snowing soon though, as it was getting harder and harder to get to work. The thought of going out hunting in even deeper snow made her remember the burning feeling in her legs from all the running that now stung her. She was sore, and while it wasn't obvious at first, after playing with the children the previous day at the orphanage, she had begun to feel it. Coupled with her sickness now, it was a horrible feeling and she hoped Noah didn't experience it. She did all she could to ignore the feeling and hopefully keep it out of her heart and mind from traveling to him. She of course had no idea whether that would work or not, but she hoped.

"Alright," she answered back as she leaned into the couch. It's soft back provided a comfortable position for her pounding headache. Her hair had bunched up uncomfortably and so she reached back to pull it upward and fan it over the back of the couch, but as she did so, she felt a deep sense of...yearning? Desire for something? The only thing she desired at the moment was for her headache to go away; so with tired glance, she looked at Noah, who was staring at her. The feelings she felt inside spoke more than what his eyes had normal held, a simple stare. Now, at this moment as her eyes met his, he yearned for her. In embarrassment or shame, or just out of respect, he turned downward to avoid her gaze.

Elann rested her head back down into the cushion behind her now that her hair was free, still staring at him; her weaver's fingers moved to play lightly at the blankets around her legs. She had thought about him before in that way, but pushed aside such thoughts. Now though, she had spoken to Morian. She had discovered what it meant to be a disowned Benshiran who loved Yahal still. Her heart beat raced faster in her chest, making her take deeper breaths and causing her chest to rise and fall with greater boundary. While her body told her what it wanted, her mind was the all powerful master and told her to stop the cycle.

"Have you ever delivered a really beautiful letter before, Noah?" She asked with a tilt of her head and a warm smile spread over her lips. It was not so much of a topic purely for distraction. She truly wanted to know. She wanted to know how beautiful once could be, and if he had seen one amazing, she wanted to know how the lettering looked. Did it have special gold marks on the stationary? Did it have ribbons? Was it a special color paper? Perhaps while her intentions were good, to draw his mind back to a topic of conversation, perhaps it was a bad idea, because it would make him look back at the object he longed for.

Her.

Other's Words ~~ My Words ~~ My Thoughts