[The Wildlands] Amazing Grace (Closed, Grace)

[Abashai]

Grace seemed sincere in her display of sympathy at the loss of his parents. The event occurred over twenty five years earlier, when he was only six. The childhood wounds had scarred over. The conversation with the young woman had a dynamic nature, shifting from guarded inquiry and subtle sparring to what appeared rather frank exchanges. Abashai noted all these aspects, still attempting to define the intentions of the archeologist. Perhaps she had no other motive than curiosity, for one thing was for certain, Grace was the curious sort. He surmised that it was what drove her in life. He flushed slightly as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees much as he had. The posture inferred a more intimate conversation, and the closeness sparked a nervous chill through Abashai's body. Ever since he had left Yahebah, aside from Nya, he held women at a comfortable distance. As a teenager he had been seduced by an older woman, and the consequences were tragic. His trust of women had been tainted from that moment on. The Benshiran tried to hide his discomfort, taking advantage of Grace's nearness to study her features in more detail. Her eyes were large and youthful, a color of smokey gray he had not encountered before. They were deep and not totally concealing., revealing the honesty of her sympathy, the true interest she had in peeling back his layers. The curl at the corner of her lips cast a puckish appearance to her visage, seeming to contradict with the smooth, ruddy pink coloring of her pale cheeks and soft lines that would have appeared innocent on any other woman. So, unable to decide whether the thrill he felt excited or concerned him, Abashai listened. Her qeustion was an intriguing one, something he had not considered before. He smiled slightly at her offer, a sort of game devised to delve into each of them. Abashai was not open to anyone but Nya. But Grace had offered no ulterior motive other than the insatiable need to discover. He honestly found her to be fascinating, an enigma of sorts. It appeared he was a bit curious himself. "Very well, Grace, I accept your offer." The Benshiran's crystal eyes intensified, his features softening, as if he were to convey something close to his heart. "I will tell you, I would be a very different man. I would have suffered much less, made fewer mistakes, and been only a fraction of the man I am right now. But Yahal took my failure and used it to refine me, as a goldsmith refines his metal, with heat and pressure." The desert man looked down at his open palms, the god's marks etched there in dark characters. "I would not have these. I would not have Nya. She has opened a new world for me, drew me from my own emotional exile. I have stood face to face with gods and goddesses, done their bidding, had suffered and been succored at their hands. I have seen ancient horrors and the beauty of life restored to the dead. I have known great pain and great joy and great purpose, and things I cannot reveal." Shai's eyes had not ventured from Grace's appealing gaze, pouring his heart into it. His features hardened slightly, almost unseen, as he realized the things he had spoken... perhaps he had spoken too much. "If Zulrav had not taken my parents, I would be a nameless desert nomad, tending my flock, following the routine and traditions that my people have had, day in, day out, for centuries." His face softened again, small smile returning. He reached to push a stray lock from his face before clasping his hands before him, elbows still resting on his knees. "So, perhaps it is not as original, but I would ask the same question of you, Grace. What fate would have befallen you had Henry not raised you in his footsteps?"

[Grace]

The subtle change in Abashai's carriage as she leaned closer made something tighten in her throat, and she felt a familiar but infrequent sensation that she had learned to ignore. At this point in their exchange she hadn't really considered anything beyond what drove the Benshiran, what made him the person he presented to her, but this new perspective afforded her the opportunity to look at what she was missing in the semi-chaste life she'd chosen for herself. Attentively listening as Abashai maneuvered around his discomfort to answer her question, she was struck by something she had not counted on from this very noble and clearly devoted man, interest, in her. She made no effort to exploit his subtle response, but was hard pressed not to be at least a little entertained; a fact she did her best to conceal. She was not as amused at her own reaction, but had long since learned that those urges only served to cloud the picture. That said, she could hardly ignore the opportunity now provided to her to inspect her companion more closely, so she did just that, with a savoring eye. Most men she had encountered in the scope of her work were not honorable, not true about this fellow. As well, most had lacked the subtle art of slow discovery, the very thing she found most appealing about the Benshiran. The pinky of the hand supporting her chin began that steady tapping on her lower lip as she listened and watched, her 'tell' that the wheels of her thoughts had taken up occupation once more. As she began to consider the physical merits of the man, her lashes lowered, concealing any clues her eyes might have exposed. The blonde veil lifting only when her eyes were free of the betrayal her thoughts would offer. His response complete, Abashai posed his question to her, and the corner of her mouth lifted. Cocking her head to the side, she leaned a fraction closer. "I will allow you, this once, to commandeer a thought that is not your own." Her smile grew in intensity and her cheeks warmed with color. "But I will let you in on a secret... there are so many more interesting questions you might have asked me." Her face positively glowed with mischief, hinting at the allure of her many secrets. As she prepared to answer her question, she continued the light tapping, taking several moments to really consider the question. "I imagine I would be far less accustomed to getting what I want." Her eyebrow perked a bit, not an easy admission. "Henry was a good father, with too many concessions given to his daughter." She lowered her eyes to the ground, focusing on the patterns in the dirt as her hair slipped in front of her face. As much as she liked conversation, clearly she was not comfortable with being the subject. "I would be more of a woman... a proper woman, that is. Henry found people that could give me the skills he though I needed, so I am thankful for that, and would not trade that experience to be a soft, helpless woman." There was a little more disdain in her voice than she would have liked, but that thought of relying on and man.. or anyone else for that matter, left her feeling a little worked up. She took a deep breath and returned her eyes to Abashai. "Is that the answer you expected?" The composure had returned to her face, bullying away any lack there of and leaving her eyes masked and unreadable. As the words left her mouth, she wondered if she had actually answered his question, or if he would even make a comment if he thought she had not.

[Abashai]

Grace enjoyed the game, Abashai knew full well. It was to her, he imagined, as if they were both archeologists, the one providing the other a dig site. Just as a shard of pottery or a fragment of bone held the promise of revealing greater, hidden things, so the man and woman probed and explored the other's personality and history, discovering hints of deeper secrets that would reveal weakness, strength, knowledge and desires. Curiosity ruled the day, and the players were well engaged in their efforts to uncover one another's true identities. Abashai laughed lightly at her answer, his bright blue-green eyes sparkling in contrast to his swarthy skin. "I would indeed find it hard to imagine you not getting what you want, or doting on a man, washing his garments and cooking his meals." A wry grin lit up his face. The Benshiran did not intend to insult Grace, but it was incredibly obvious that the woman, as she was today, was fiercely independent and determined in what she set her mind to. And, he found she responded to barbed humor with an entertaining brand of her own. With a creak of leather and clink of metal, the follower of Yahal shifted on his stony seat, sitting up and stretching. The young woman seemed disappointed in his question, and her tempting offer to explore more assertively was a bit thrilling. "I am sorry my question did not challenge you. I assure you my next inquiry shall be more poignant. But I believe it is your turn to for the inquisition." He gestured nobly towards Grace, leaning down again with his elbows on his knees and his eyes fixed on hers, awaiting her next calculated question.

[Grace]

"Doting." She made a slight click with her tongue against her teeth "True, that is not really an often used skill in my daily life, though please do not discount my offering of water." She smirked and continued. "Perhaps if I'd offered it in a cup of your very own, bending a knee of submission, it would have fallen under the blanket of doting." She cocked her head to the side, a wry smile dancing on full lips. She narrowed sparkling eyes, the tone of her voice saturated with mischief. "And I usually do so well with semantics." She punctuated her words with a quiet laugh, perhaps because she tried to summon the image of any doting undertaken by her. As Abashai passed her the conversational baton she focused on him, trying to gauge the complexion of her next question. It had been some time since she'd enjoyed an exchange this much, while devoted, Jasper did not offer much of a challenge when it came to debate, so she wanted only to offer thoughtful inquiries that would live up to the bar they had set for this dance. There was also the desire to knock the Benshiran from his area of comfort, but she had done her best to remain well behaved until now, and that seemed to be more productive. She prepared her parry, always watching for any sign of change in him. When she spoke, the compassion returned to her voice. "So Abashai," She spoke his name slowly, not really having said it since the start of their conversation, it was as though she was looking for clues to him through the organic way the letters of his name interacted with each other. "Still remaining in this world of possibilities we having created, if you had the opportunity, would you surrender the changes in you and your life so that your parents may have lived?" Her question spoke directly to his willingness to sacrifice for those he loved. "I wonder if you think your life with your kelvic was fated to happen regardless of your circumstance...and if you would take that chance?" She was unsure whether he would answer at all, but a knot formed in her stomach at the anticipation of finding out. The discomfort of their proximity seemed to have faded from him somewhat, and he sat across from her now, with nearly the same level of ease they had established before. His adaptability was certainly a strength, in her eyes. She considered her question for a moment and that streak of mischief would not resist showing itself. "If that is too close to your heart, I could always ask you a question about sex." Tap. Tap. Tap. The gauntlet was thrown.

[Abashai]

Grace conversed with such, well....grace. No word was spoken without thought, each concept surfacing received due consideration. Even her demeanor, subtle clicks of her tongue, twists of her lips, tilt of her head and movement of her eyes created a dynamic and rich experience for the listener. Her pace was never hurried, leaving Abashai almost anticipating her next statement. She uttered his name, a sign of familiarity, though he did not know if it was sincere or simply a tactic to unbalance him. The Benshiran was astute enough to see the young woman found some enjoyment from getting a rise out of him. All part of the sparring game in which they were engaged. Grace posed her next question, poignant and personal. Abashai took it in stride, willing to consider answering. But her final teasing statement proved to goad him, and in spite of himself, a flush of discomfort passed quickly across his swarthy features. Sex was a subject with which Abashai had had some unpleasant history. Not willing to give Grace a hand up, the desert man quickly recovered with a knowing smile. "No, I will answer your question...Grace." He looked down for a moment to dig at a dirty fingernail before realizing it was impolite and ceased. His bright eyes returned to her light smokey gaze. "Your question raises greater ones, questions of free will and fate. I believe I have had a path laid before me by the gods. It began with the death of my parents. I was very young, remember, so I have only vague memories of them, and the pain I felt at their loss. My aunt and uncle in Yahebah became my parents." The man's eyes narrowed as he spoke, speaking honestly directly into Grace's eyes, as if to pour what he offered into her. She asked, and she was going to get. "As I said, I believe, know, a plan was laid for me. But I had free will to chose to follow it, once I saw it. Until then, divine hands dealt with my mistakes until my feet found my path." Abashai did not want to say too much, he would not speak the divine quest he and Nya pursued, nor the fact that the couple had been following it for several lifetimes. "Would I give up what I have to have my parents? This may sound harsh, but no. I have suffered many things apart from their death, but each was a trial that refined me, equipped me for my destiny. I was destined to be with Nya, I cannot tell you why I know this, but I do. The gods brought us together, but we had to freely chose one another.' Shai searched Grace's gaze for comprehension. "I hope I do not sound too cryptic. " He then quipped uncharacteristically, "Perhaps sex would have been a better subject!"

[Grace]

The quick flush of red was not lost on Grace, even worn on the sun darkened skin of the Benshiran, the immediate, yet fleeting blush was obvious to someone who was paying attention. In his response, there was something more than a man embarrassed by the offhanded question of a new acquaintance, she would find a way to expose the truth there. Careful Grace. He launched into an answer within the next breath, leaving behind the blush of color as well as the opportunity to pursue the reason for it. Abashai's answer filled her head with a long list of additional questions that she ignored to keep focus on what he was saying. There must be comfort in knowing certain truths so surely. The thought reflected on his words as much as it did upon the path of Grace's life. Luckily, as much as anything she had ever experienced, she sought out the questions, the uncertainties, dissecting them until only the thread of truth was left before she moved on to the next. The nature of her life had always been transient; She gathered pieces of history with the goal of weaving them into a map of the past, and as of yet, there had been nothing to slow her movement. The talk of his fated choice stirred the tiniest amount of envy in Grace, darkening her eyes for a moment. Cryptic? Or course it sounded cryptic. She nearly laughed out loud, unable to stop the bright smile that split her face, that, paired with the holy man's last comment only succeeded in restoring the mood of conviviality, wiping away the more serious tone they had fallen into. Her smile twisted into a playful smirk, accented by a cocked brow. With a movement that was smooth and effortless, she reclined onto on her elbows, extending one long leg, then the other. Stretched like a lounging cat, she took away some of the subtle tension their closeness had stirred in her and replaced it with her own comfort. If it provided a little more tension for Abashai, that was a lovely byproduct. "Sex it is. Ask away holy man." With her chin nearly resting on her upper chest, she began to trace her fingers in the earth at her hips, waiting for his next words.

[Abashai]

Grace's expressive features had indicated once again intent interest and attention to his words. Abashai could not escape the feeling every detail was being catalogued away in some cache in her mind, a growing collection of information she would reference in disectinig his persona, determining who he was and how he could be explained and anticipated. There was something disarming about Grace, however, and only after he had spoken his mind did he feel a bit self-conscious about the revelations he had shared. His uncharacteristic offhand remark about the direction the conversation should have gone was an ill-concieved ploy to redirect the topic from himself. Her pensive demeanor did alter, but when she flashed him a roguish grin and raised brow, Abashai knew he had laid his own trap, and then stepped in it. Like a feline predator, confident in the security of its lair, Grace stretched herself out. She was long and fit, and as she reclined so self-assured, Abashai found himself turning his head and glancing away, as if checking on his grazing mare. The woman's subtlety suited her, and though Grace made no real suggestions by anything she had done, she had managed to make the stalwart follower of Yahal uncomfortable. Her last comment, as obvious as an arrow aimed at his chest, drew his attention back to her, his jaw slack. He sat straight up, wiping his hands along his worn pant legs as if drying the cold sweat that had appeared on his palms. A nervous laughed slipped out, but Abashai was intent on recovering. Inhaling deeply, the Benshiran met Grace's coy gaze. Gathering himself, Shai's features took on a defiant grin, his feet moved to plant firmly in the dirt and again he rested his elbows on his knees, leaning towards the lounging blonde. His dark curly mane swung forward to dangle at the sides of his face; his grin widened. "I don't think so....Grace. I believed such a base subject is hardly fitting for intellectuals such as we. Besides, I have no interest in your mating practices." His own smile curled at one edge. The truth was, Shai did not want to discuss Nya and his own mating practices. Their habits and the nature of their intimacy was...unique, and he in no way wished to discuss it with a stranger. "But I will ask this, has there ever been...anyone in your life? Or are you married to your work?"

[Grace]

Mating. Even his choice of words offered insight. She could not resist after watching his awkward deflection while he rebounded to his usual state of calm. "Mating, is it? That leaves very little latitude for participation simply for enjoyment's sake. Interesting." She shrugged, the smallest bit of disappointment on her face -or was she putting it on for his benefit?- "But you're right, why complicate such a civilized encounter with the messy business of 'mating'." As she considered his next question she took a moment to drape one leg over the other at the ankle, making herself even more comfortable. A thought crept into her mind. "Not to prolong this uncivilized discussion, I just want to be clear, is it my habits, or your own, you wish not to bring to light? Just to be clear?" Without waiting for his answer, she continued, the look on his face provided all that she needed to know. Her gray eyes grew serious for a brief flash, but then the coy, playful tone returned. "I have never been married." Her answer was brief, and she seem reticent to elaborate. There was a mystery there that she was unwilling to expose, and the tone of her voice made it clear that no amount of gilding would make that question more appealing to her. "For the moment, I suppose I am devoted to my pursuits here." She swept her arm over the displaced dirt and stone in reference. "I have not ruled out the possibility that another my come along and distract me from it, but for now... " Another. As soon as she said it, she knew that she'd offered a bit more information than she'd intended, but as her words trailed off, she hoped the Benshiran would not re-focus his scrutiny toward that single word. For the first time, she seemed to rush to the next question, hoping to leave that topic unexplored and behind them. She looked down at Abashai's hands. "Are you free to tell me what those markings mean?" She stared at them for several moments "As well as these.." She reached across the gap between them and ran her finger over the markings on his face, but her fingers never touched his skin, they simply hovered over the intended spot , held at bay by a thin barrier of air. As tactile a person as she was, Grace would never touch another without consent, most especially a devoted man who was clearly a bit uncomfortable with her proximity already. But is was only a small barrier..

[Abashai]

Grace was not ready to leave the sensitive subject, or at least not without poking at the Benshiran first. Her comment that his terminology indicated his sex life was more functional than recreational elicited a stifled grin and a quick dart of his gaze to the ground. If she only knew. The young woman's inquiry as to whether the source of his apparent discomfort was the subject of his sex life or hers, he simply glanced with a self-explanatory smile. Abashai sat up as Grace finally moved on to answer his question. He slipped off his weapon harness, laying it on the ground within reach. He stretched then leaned forward again, his elbow resting on his knee, his chin resting on his hand. The other arm laid casually on his other thigh. His attention was given fully to the archeologist. Abashai was no expert on reading people, and Grace was exceptionally skilled at managing what her behavior spoke of her. But there was a glimmer, a flash of something, like a chink of light seen for a moment in a closed curtain. His guess was her past was not entirely devoid of relations, maybe even love. A warm satisfaction came from seeing even that small misjudgment in her answer. He held onto it though, not sure he was willing to be so invasive. Again, with deft skill, she directed the conversation back to him, and he readily accepted her next inquiry. Abashai lifted his head and looked down at his marked palms, turning his gaze up when he sensed her leaning near. The Benshiran sat still as Grace leaned in. He thought she was going to trace the shiber characters etched into his forehead, and a subtle jump in his nerves betrayed his reaction. But he never felt the press of her skin on his, and he simply looked up at the arm hovering before his face. "Those," the Benshiran's eyebrows raised to indicate the markings on his face, "are traditional shiber characters celebrating the freedom of the benshiran slaves from eypharian bondage after the Valterrian struck Ahnatep. As are these." He raised his arms to reveal tattoos on the back of his wrists in the shape of a short bar with three spikes reaching up onto the back of his hands. Then, opening his palms to reveal a dark shiber character on his hands, the same on each palm. Each also bore a short, straight scar of equal length and location in each palm, apparently designed not to mar the markings. "These..." Abashai paused, his voice taking on a rich, sober tone, "These were given to me by Yahal. I have been marked." The Benshiran spoke with obvious humility and awe as he stared at the gnosis marks, recalling the desperate battle he fought to earn the god's favor. The only other mark, the Chevas mark on his neck, he did not mention, assuming she knew its meaning. With a reverent sigh, Abashai lowered his hands to his knees, his face becoming casual again, his grin honest and without guile. "You know one of my secrets now, I suppose. Tell me, do you honor any god or goddess?"

[Grace]

As the Benshiran related the significance of each marking he wore, Grace listened intently. She even doned her ill fitting glasses to get a clearer view of the intricate tattoos. The designs were fascinating, and had the explanation come from a person more familiar, she might have touched them to see they held the same texture and feel as her own marking. Instead, she tried to study them, to see if the marking were raised, or more ingrained in his skin. The form of his next question made her smile, and she backed off from the inspection of his markings to meet his eyes. "I knew I would crack you." Her voice had a lilt of humor and playfulness as she smiled at him. The smile added such youth to her face, the it seemed she was to young for any secrets. When his question turned to her faith, her hand instinctively rose to her neck. Her marking was not something she typically revealed to strangers, insomuch as she considered her faith a private matter, she felt her reciprocity to Abashai was due. Grace pulled her thumb along her collar bone, snagging the neck of her shirt and carrying it to her shoulder to reveal the length of her neck and the delicate feathered quill that was permanently marked on her pale skin. "Qalaya." The feathers plume curled delicately along the side of her neck, across her collar bone and ended with the point of the quill resting on her chest. "Do you know her?" She lowered her hand, leaving her collar out of place for the time being."She is the keeper of memory...history. The real treasures of this life." Her face took on a reminiscent complexion as she recalled those moments in her life when Qalaya was present. "She has guided my whole life." For a moment there was a calm and open vulnerability to Grace, but as soon as it was revealed, so was it concealed, and the seasoned look of caution overtook her face once more. "And now...you know one of mine." This dance they had begun was growing more and more interesting to Grace, with the offering up of information outside of observation, it was a though the Benshiran was offering gems that would lead her to a greater treasure. Just as she liked it. "Do you feel vulnerable, now that I have gotten past the first of your many mysteries?" The question was an odd one, but Grace smiled as she asked, secretly hoping the question itself would compound that feeling.