Fiction: Right
Mar. 26th, 2013 07:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clare_dragonflyTitle: Right
World: Atash
Word count: 1,611
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic Tyrian Purple 3, born of sea foam; Heart Gold 4, Love is patient, love is kind. - Corinthians
Notes: This is a sequel to Love As It Was Meant to Be. Technically, it comes after the sequel, but I haven't written that sequel yet.
When Journey returned at last from the capital, with Hemlock grown up and a young man and not needing him anymore… she was waiting.
He had had quite a few lovers during his time in Atash. After all, none of them knew his past; he had been made into a handsome and powerful young man, and he was just exotic enough from his birth over the mountains to appeal. And there was always a lot of contact between the guards and the servants of the house and yard. Journey had reveled in his new popularity with the girls and had quite a wonderful time. But he had not told any of them secrets. He had not been more than a little sorry to move past them, and with more than a few, he had been happy to toast their marriages to other servants or guardsmen.
Kala was different.
He had said goodbye to her before he left. She had not cried, though he had wondered if she would. She had held him tight and wished him well and told him in a voice that left no room to debate to return to her.
And she was still here, still waiting for him, still garbed in the pale blue of an unmarried servant woman.
And she was running toward him, arms wide, and she was laughing and crying, and he was laughing too, and now he was clasping her in his arms and whirling her around and kissing her again and again.
Tuga dismissed him with a great smirk (and wasn’t that an odd expression to see on the face of one who Journey had met as a constantly serious child), but Journey hardly saw it. As Tuga returned to his parents’ home, Journey and Kala returned to the servants’ quarters.
When they had satisfied themselves with their welcome, Journey pushed himself up on his elbow and smiled down at Kala’s sweet, flushed, dreamy face. He pushed one sweat-damp strand of dark hair out of her face. “You waited for me,” he said.
“I said I would.” She smiled more widely. “You came back to me.”
“You told me to,” he said, and they laughed.
“I suppose you’ll want to get married soon, after waiting for so long.”
She pouted at him. “You don’t have to sound so reluctant.”
He grinned. “I’m not reluctant.” His stomach gave a twist. “Not really.”
“What is it?” Her pout faded to a genuine frown, and she reached up to touch his face. “You don’t look happy. Was there another woman in the capital? I won’t mind. I never saw anyone else, but it was a long, lonely time, and I’m sure the capital servants are very interesting.”
He shook his head, then pressed his lips into her palm. How could he tell her? And yet he could not hide this from the woman he loved, not the greatest hidden truth of his life. It might not be something that mattered anymore—Cicatrix would certainly tell him it did not—but it was part of his past. “I have something to tell you,” he said at last. “About my past. I don’t know how you’re going to take it, but I must be honest with you, especially considering how much I want to marry you.”
“You’re not running from the law back in Skareya, are you?” she asked. “I will be honest, Journey”—she had learned to pronounce his Skareyan name so that there was no hesitation—”I would find that difficult to believe.”
He smiled. “No. Of course not. My family, perhaps…”
“Oh, well, everyone wants to escape their family. Why do you think I work here? I used to live up north, but I left to find better employment elsewhere. And I found it.”
“Really? Well, lucky me, then.” He wanted very much to hear more about her family up north, wondering if they should ask for permission to visit them after they were wed—but they could never visit his family. And he truly did want to tell her this. He couldn’t keep putting it off. “Kala…”
“You have something to tell me. Right.” She sat up and folded her hands in her lap, which turned out to have the opposite effect intended, as it bared her lovely breasts. “I’m listening.”
He grinned and sat up likewise. “I don’t know how much attention you were paying when I arrived at Lord Upka’s land with Hemlock—Tuka—”
“Tuga,” she corrected (he never could get the boy’s new name right—and, he reminded himself, not such a boy anymore). “And I certainly noticed. Everyone did.”
He nodded. “You knew that the woman who came with us, Tuka’s birth mother, was a witch?”
“Yes.” She cocked her head to the side, frowning slightly. He could see that she was beginning to understand—but of course she was unlikely to guess exactly what the witch had done for him.
“Escorting her and her son here, serving as their bodyguard, was my payment for something the witch did for me. I had gone to her for help, because she was the only one who could help me, do anything for me.”
She nodded slowly, keeping her eyes on his. “Go on,” she encouraged him. “What did she do?”
He took a deep breath. “She changed my body for me. This is not…” How to put this? It was so hard to explain when he never thought of himself that way anymore. Yes, there had been a long time in his life when he had thought of himself as a girl, but that was so far past that it seemed foreign now. He gritted his teeth. “I was born with a female body. I was raised as a girl. I made the bargain with the witch to become a man.”
To his profound relief, Kala did not immediately draw away in disgust. Instead, she looked his naked chest up and down, then reached out and stroked his skin. He shivered. “You don’t seem any different from any other men,” she said. “And as I think you know, I’ve seen quite a few other men.”
He smiled. “Yes. The witch did a good job. There’s no more sign of what I used to look like.”
“Most people would change something about their appearance if they could, though perhaps not everyone would pay the price of leaving their homes and families behind,” she said softly.
“I had to leave my home and family behind. They would never have accepted this change. They would never have taken Journey in Lavender’s place.”
She nodded, then reached for the back of his neck, pulled him close, and kissed him deeply.
Surprised, he stiffened at first, then relaxed into the kiss. This couldn’t be a goodbye, could it? That would break his heart. But it was… something.
“That was a wake-up call,” she informed him, responding to his thoughts in that mysterious way she often had. “Stop being so terrified, love.”
His heart thudded. She still loved him. “You’re all right with this?”
“Of course.” She smiled a crooked smile. “I love you. Your past doesn’t change things. As I hope my past wouldn’t change anything for you, if I had anything equally strange to reveal.”
He nodded. It wouldn’t, of course. “But you do think it’s strange.”
She laughed. “Who wouldn’t? I’ve never heard of anyone like that. Of course, if I did know anyone who was born in the wrong body, they probably wouldn’t tell me—it would be hard to believe. But I trust you, Journey. I trust you entirely to tell me the truth. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t want to marry you.”
“Some people would call me a freak of nature for wanting to be different than the way I was born.”
She shook her head. “I think that’s ridiculous. Everything wants to be something different at some point in their lives. It’s only those who want it hard enough, who are willing to do the work and make the sacrifices—which you obviously were—who actually do change.”
“You almost sound like you respect me.”
She laughed even more loudly. “Of course I do, my love. And you know, I am a bit curious to know what you looked like as a woman… but I don’t think you’d like me to know.”
He shook his head mutely. Even if he could have described his appearance before the witch had changed him, he thought he would always be anxious, wondering if Kala was comparing him to that, wondering if that was what she thought of as his real body.
“Therefore, my opinion about your past doesn’t change. As far as I’m concerned, you came into being when you stepped onto Lord Upka’s lands, the first time I heard of you.”
He felt a huge, foolish smile spread across his face. “Are you sure about that?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you want me to think of you the same way? Because I confess I am curious about your family.”
She sighed, then leaned forward and rested her forehead against his shoulder. “No, we can go meet my family. Eventually. Maybe after we have a grandchild to present them with…”
Warmth spread through his chest at that. Children of their own. He loved Hemlock, but the boy wasn’t his… and wasn’t a boy anymore. “That sounds wonderful,” he whispered.
She lifted her head and kissed him again. “Shall we get to work on that, then?” she whispered back, pulling him down onto the bed.
“Lots of practice,” he agreed, curling his hands around her soft body. “We’ve got to get it right.”
Did you enjoy this story? You can read more stories in this world or see all my fiction posted at Dreamwidth!
World: Atash
Word count: 1,611
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:
rainbowfic Tyrian Purple 3, born of sea foam; Heart Gold 4, Love is patient, love is kind. - CorinthiansNotes: This is a sequel to Love As It Was Meant to Be. Technically, it comes after the sequel, but I haven't written that sequel yet.
When Journey returned at last from the capital, with Hemlock grown up and a young man and not needing him anymore… she was waiting.
He had had quite a few lovers during his time in Atash. After all, none of them knew his past; he had been made into a handsome and powerful young man, and he was just exotic enough from his birth over the mountains to appeal. And there was always a lot of contact between the guards and the servants of the house and yard. Journey had reveled in his new popularity with the girls and had quite a wonderful time. But he had not told any of them secrets. He had not been more than a little sorry to move past them, and with more than a few, he had been happy to toast their marriages to other servants or guardsmen.
Kala was different.
He had said goodbye to her before he left. She had not cried, though he had wondered if she would. She had held him tight and wished him well and told him in a voice that left no room to debate to return to her.
And she was still here, still waiting for him, still garbed in the pale blue of an unmarried servant woman.
And she was running toward him, arms wide, and she was laughing and crying, and he was laughing too, and now he was clasping her in his arms and whirling her around and kissing her again and again.
Tuga dismissed him with a great smirk (and wasn’t that an odd expression to see on the face of one who Journey had met as a constantly serious child), but Journey hardly saw it. As Tuga returned to his parents’ home, Journey and Kala returned to the servants’ quarters.
When they had satisfied themselves with their welcome, Journey pushed himself up on his elbow and smiled down at Kala’s sweet, flushed, dreamy face. He pushed one sweat-damp strand of dark hair out of her face. “You waited for me,” he said.
“I said I would.” She smiled more widely. “You came back to me.”
“You told me to,” he said, and they laughed.
“I suppose you’ll want to get married soon, after waiting for so long.”
She pouted at him. “You don’t have to sound so reluctant.”
He grinned. “I’m not reluctant.” His stomach gave a twist. “Not really.”
“What is it?” Her pout faded to a genuine frown, and she reached up to touch his face. “You don’t look happy. Was there another woman in the capital? I won’t mind. I never saw anyone else, but it was a long, lonely time, and I’m sure the capital servants are very interesting.”
He shook his head, then pressed his lips into her palm. How could he tell her? And yet he could not hide this from the woman he loved, not the greatest hidden truth of his life. It might not be something that mattered anymore—Cicatrix would certainly tell him it did not—but it was part of his past. “I have something to tell you,” he said at last. “About my past. I don’t know how you’re going to take it, but I must be honest with you, especially considering how much I want to marry you.”
“You’re not running from the law back in Skareya, are you?” she asked. “I will be honest, Journey”—she had learned to pronounce his Skareyan name so that there was no hesitation—”I would find that difficult to believe.”
He smiled. “No. Of course not. My family, perhaps…”
“Oh, well, everyone wants to escape their family. Why do you think I work here? I used to live up north, but I left to find better employment elsewhere. And I found it.”
“Really? Well, lucky me, then.” He wanted very much to hear more about her family up north, wondering if they should ask for permission to visit them after they were wed—but they could never visit his family. And he truly did want to tell her this. He couldn’t keep putting it off. “Kala…”
“You have something to tell me. Right.” She sat up and folded her hands in her lap, which turned out to have the opposite effect intended, as it bared her lovely breasts. “I’m listening.”
He grinned and sat up likewise. “I don’t know how much attention you were paying when I arrived at Lord Upka’s land with Hemlock—Tuka—”
“Tuga,” she corrected (he never could get the boy’s new name right—and, he reminded himself, not such a boy anymore). “And I certainly noticed. Everyone did.”
He nodded. “You knew that the woman who came with us, Tuka’s birth mother, was a witch?”
“Yes.” She cocked her head to the side, frowning slightly. He could see that she was beginning to understand—but of course she was unlikely to guess exactly what the witch had done for him.
“Escorting her and her son here, serving as their bodyguard, was my payment for something the witch did for me. I had gone to her for help, because she was the only one who could help me, do anything for me.”
She nodded slowly, keeping her eyes on his. “Go on,” she encouraged him. “What did she do?”
He took a deep breath. “She changed my body for me. This is not…” How to put this? It was so hard to explain when he never thought of himself that way anymore. Yes, there had been a long time in his life when he had thought of himself as a girl, but that was so far past that it seemed foreign now. He gritted his teeth. “I was born with a female body. I was raised as a girl. I made the bargain with the witch to become a man.”
To his profound relief, Kala did not immediately draw away in disgust. Instead, she looked his naked chest up and down, then reached out and stroked his skin. He shivered. “You don’t seem any different from any other men,” she said. “And as I think you know, I’ve seen quite a few other men.”
He smiled. “Yes. The witch did a good job. There’s no more sign of what I used to look like.”
“Most people would change something about their appearance if they could, though perhaps not everyone would pay the price of leaving their homes and families behind,” she said softly.
“I had to leave my home and family behind. They would never have accepted this change. They would never have taken Journey in Lavender’s place.”
She nodded, then reached for the back of his neck, pulled him close, and kissed him deeply.
Surprised, he stiffened at first, then relaxed into the kiss. This couldn’t be a goodbye, could it? That would break his heart. But it was… something.
“That was a wake-up call,” she informed him, responding to his thoughts in that mysterious way she often had. “Stop being so terrified, love.”
His heart thudded. She still loved him. “You’re all right with this?”
“Of course.” She smiled a crooked smile. “I love you. Your past doesn’t change things. As I hope my past wouldn’t change anything for you, if I had anything equally strange to reveal.”
He nodded. It wouldn’t, of course. “But you do think it’s strange.”
She laughed. “Who wouldn’t? I’ve never heard of anyone like that. Of course, if I did know anyone who was born in the wrong body, they probably wouldn’t tell me—it would be hard to believe. But I trust you, Journey. I trust you entirely to tell me the truth. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t want to marry you.”
“Some people would call me a freak of nature for wanting to be different than the way I was born.”
She shook her head. “I think that’s ridiculous. Everything wants to be something different at some point in their lives. It’s only those who want it hard enough, who are willing to do the work and make the sacrifices—which you obviously were—who actually do change.”
“You almost sound like you respect me.”
She laughed even more loudly. “Of course I do, my love. And you know, I am a bit curious to know what you looked like as a woman… but I don’t think you’d like me to know.”
He shook his head mutely. Even if he could have described his appearance before the witch had changed him, he thought he would always be anxious, wondering if Kala was comparing him to that, wondering if that was what she thought of as his real body.
“Therefore, my opinion about your past doesn’t change. As far as I’m concerned, you came into being when you stepped onto Lord Upka’s lands, the first time I heard of you.”
He felt a huge, foolish smile spread across his face. “Are you sure about that?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you want me to think of you the same way? Because I confess I am curious about your family.”
She sighed, then leaned forward and rested her forehead against his shoulder. “No, we can go meet my family. Eventually. Maybe after we have a grandchild to present them with…”
Warmth spread through his chest at that. Children of their own. He loved Hemlock, but the boy wasn’t his… and wasn’t a boy anymore. “That sounds wonderful,” he whispered.
She lifted her head and kissed him again. “Shall we get to work on that, then?” she whispered back, pulling him down onto the bed.
“Lots of practice,” he agreed, curling his hands around her soft body. “We’ve got to get it right.”
Did you enjoy this story? You can read more stories in this world or see all my fiction posted at Dreamwidth!