Under the Moon (private)
If things had lapsed into normality, Aishe wasn't complaining. That her "normal" included Kem was more than satisfying. He, apparently, was of the mind that "normal" might bore her to tears so despite her reassurances, here they were. She couldn't complain about this, either.
They were down on the beach, well away from the roped-off swimming area. The grass grew high here and it came close to the water's edge in several places, creating a few little grottoes of privacy here and there. It was in one of these they lay, on an old blanket, under the gentle light of the moon. There were crickets chirping in the bushes around them and the grasses rustled in a light breeze. If they turned their attention away from the sea they caught glimpses of fireflies' lanterns dotting the hill behind them.
A picnic basket sat, emptied of its contents, a little bit off behind the blanket. Aishe had cuffed up her jeans to her knees and was idly tracing little circles in the sand with her toe. Her head was pillowed upon Kem's arm and he was curled up around her, his free arm resting lightly upon her waist, as they both watched the small waves of the ocean splashing up to the rocky beach.
Aishe had to admit, it was a beautiful night for a moonlight picnic. Sure... she didn't need to break from the norm, but it was relaxing, and beautiful, and it took her back almost five years, in fact.
"This is how we began, isn't it," she murmured, turning her head to glance up at Kem.
His pale eyes flickered down to her and as he watched her, his slow soft smile spread across his lips.
Lowering his head, he rested his cheek against the silky black fall of hair and nodded, still smiling at the memories.
"We used to meet just after dusk. On the bank of the Nile."
He'd met her with dinner, more often than not. "You and your late digs. Did you really have to stay that long?"
Kem wasn't the sort to assume such things... he never thought someone like Aishe would go out of her way to see someone like him. But even Kem could see how things were once the wool was pulled away from his eyes, and with the bond they shared he knew with unquestioning faith how much she loved him. It was his rock and his anchor, and with such feelings plain between them at all times it was impossible not to be able to admit it to himself.
"Don't tell me I was your sole reason for working ridiculous hours."
He felt his lips twitch up; Aishe was a hard worker, and she loved her archaeology, but even he had a hard time believing now that that had been her sole reason for so many late nights.
"At first? Chance," she admitted. "Not for long though. Once I figured out I wasn't going to see you until nighttime, I found things to keep me there working. My professor sure didn't mind. I did get a lot done."
A lock of Kem's silver hair slid down over her shoulder and she glanced at it as it lay on her own dark hair, bright silver-shite on deep black, mingling together. The contrast was striking and yet fitting. Kem was always her balance.
"Do you ever think about how many random chances had to occur for this to happen?"
Aishe waved her hand, not out at the ocean but in, toward the two of them. Almost 1600 years separated them. More than ten lifetimes, and yet here they were, nestled together on a blanket on the beach.
It was silly to ask if he'd ever though such a thing possible. Who in their right mind thought such things possible when they had a regular human life, doing regular human things? But, a little part of her wondered, what did Kem think of his situation now? How many highs, how many lows, did one go through in 1600 years?
As always, this was uncertain territory for Kem. Discussing his past didn't come easily; even after the last few years it wasn't always roses and smiles. He talked to her about it, though, as often as she asked him to and with an endearing frankness that told her volumes about his feelings for her.
Her next question caught him off-guard, delivered in that same sleepy-lazy tone, a husky little burr in her throat sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.
"I don't know," he said. "I'm not sure I'd have ever admitted to believing in chance at all. Maybe now, but back then?" Kem shook his head again. "Nothing was chance in those days. That's a modern outlook. Back in the day it was fate. And deities. The supernatural."
He thought on it for a moment. "No. I don't think it was chance."
"So you think this was meant to be, then?"
Yet another point they took opposite stances on, agreeably so as usual. "I don't know if I ever felt so strongly in a higher power. That someone or something would care enough about two little people in one very big, very old world... enough to span centuries to bring them together. That's hard to believe."
She looked into the eyes of her lover, the man who had traveled across time itself to find himself here with her now, on a beach under the stars and the moon, and couldn't help but wonder who he'd been when it all began, and if that person was in any way similar to the person she loved now. It wouldn't hurt her to ask, and it wouldn't hurt Kem to tell. Healing was a long process, and there was no doubt in her mind that he'd been wounded when they met.
"Do you think of it often?" She asked softly. "Of how things were when you lived?"
It was every bit for her own benefit as was his; Aishe could think of few people better suited to discuss the passing of time as a near immortal. She faced a future like that now, but with her phenominal luck, she would never have to face it alone.
He nodded his head at her assessment of fate. He knew Aishe was far more progressive than he, far more willing to embrace change, question tradition, look for new answers. It was one of the things he liked best about her, something he always wished he could do better and something he hoped to learn from her.
Once again her question hit a nerve, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as he expected. In fact, he thought with some surprise, it was almost a relief to hear it. They'd often danced around conversations like this, but Aishe had never pushed. With her usual patience she'd waited and waited until he was ready. Always, she took two steps forward then turned and held her hand out to him, letting him step up to her when he could. And with someone like that, how could he hesitate to answer?
Surprisingly, again, he shook his head. "I don't think of it much at all now," he admitted. "When I was first turned I thought of that... that one event. The things that happened afterward. I remember my life but only as if I were a spectator. I've been what I am for so long now, life seems like the fantasy."
He brushed a lock of her hair away from her face. "This is my reality."
With Aishe here, Kem understood that he had lived in one moment for so long, it had shaped centuries of his life. And still did, he supposed. It probably always would.
As usual, his answers brought more questions to her lips. And she had the feeling tonight was the right night to ask them. They were relaxed, they were both happy. This was the night she'd been patiently hoping would come, when perhaps she could really begin to understand everything he was.
"How old were you?"
And right on top of that, "Your children... did you ever find out...?" That question simply drifted off. She didn't need to complete it; he knew what she was asking. Kem had had children, she knew. A boy and a girl. He'd had a sister he'd loved enough to die for, a wife. So many years ago, ages and ages away.
Would she have the fortitude to find out what happened to her family? Aishe was an only child; her parents would never know the joy of granchildren. She had cousins though, and their family line would continue through them. What would happen centuries from now? Would she want to know what had become of her family?
"I was nineteen," he answered. "Life was shorter then than it is now. I was a father before I was sixteen."
His children... for a long time not a day had passed that he didn't think of them, worry for them. "Mahematen and Amaret," he murmured, supplying Aishe with the names of his son and daughter. "Ha-Neferet would have taken them in. I know it."
She'd have fought tooth and nail to keep his children, he knew. Life might have been long; he might have forgotten details here and there, but he remembered with clarity the relationships between himself, his sister, and his wife.
He closed his eyes briefly and then looked down at AIshe once more. "I never had the courage."
Between her memories of Kem's nightmares and what he'd told her, she understood how that one event could dominate his life. He didn't move on as easily as she did, and when something changed his world forever, he'd simply stuck on that.
"It's not necessarily a matter of courage," she said softly.
And it was true. Perhaps somewhere deep inside, Kem's courage had failed him, but she could hardly blame him when everything he'd known had been turned upside down. "You had to take care of the matters at hand, and from what I've gathered, you would never have been welcome back in Giza."
What kind of life could he have given his young children? Running from town to town, a father who killed to stay alive and could never be seen by daylight. In a time where suspicion ruled Kem's choice to stay away from his family had been wise - even if that decision had been unconscious.
"Are you curious at all?"
Aishe had her contacts. She could research the matter. Kem's family were from the nobility. The records would be extensive, if they were still intact. His history ended on the eve of his turning, but his sister and her children's should have endured as long as there was something left to do so.
"I don't know," he admitted after a good deal of thought.
He'd considered it himself - many times. Always, though, he'd held himself back. What purpose would knowing serve, except to rub salt into a wound still raw and new? Even if his children had led happy, fulfilling lives, he would feel the pain of never having been a part of them.
He studied AIshe's face seriously. "Do you think that's a bad thing? That after so many years I still can't decide if hat was right or not?"
Her opinion mattered to him, of course, but more important to him was the fact that they were having this conversation. Kem had made the choice when he'd discovered Aishe was in Nachton, never to hold anything back from her again. It was the best and most important thing he could do to make their relationship work. Moreover, now that he was discussing it, he found it easier than he'd expected. Aishe never judged, never criticized. She simply listened and offered her thoughts to leave or take.
She could look into it though. It wouldn't hurt to have the information on hand, would it? In case Kem ever wanted it? Aishe shook her head to herself. No, if Kem wanted to know she would look into it for him then, and enjoy doing so with him, not behind his back. No matter how good her intentions were, she wouldn't poke her nose into that unless he wanted her to.
Aishe fell silent, her hand slipping behind Kem's neck to massage the muscles there. She could feel the short lock of hair, the one that never grew past his shoulder, cut off by Sennwy just before he was turned so long ago. What a badge to carry through the next several hundred years.
Kem's face was close to hers, and it was so easy to pull, just a little bit, and bring him down to meet her lips. Aishe enjoyed kissing him; she always had. But there was more in it tonight. She wanted him to know, in no uncertain terms, what she felt. They'd been close since moving in together; they shared the same bed, held each other all night long, but their physical relationship had never gone beyond touching and caressing.
Perhaps the moon was responsible, but tonight felt different.
A burst of pleasure hit him with such suddenness he pulled away for a moment before closing the space between them again. This was everything that he'd ever missed. He'd needed this woman before she ever existed. If Kem had really been inclined to believe that fate had sent him to this time and place, what he was feeling now would stand as proof of the rightness of it all.
Drawing back once more he took a picture in his mind: Aishe, arms twined about his neck, black hair spread out half on the sand and half on the blanket, sparkling in the dim moonlight. The tall grasses rustled pleasantly just past their heads and the waves lapped at the shore in a suggestive rhythm that wasn't lost on either of them.
There was a question that Aishe would never ask him... that he knew in his heart she'd never ask, because it was unfair and there was no right answer. Kem asked it of himself though, in that moment.
Would he do it all again, if he knew it would come to this?
[I love you, Kiamhaat.]
She whispered it at the same time. Aishe didn't consider herself the romantic sort, but Kem seemed to bring out the 'girl' in her. She wasn't afraid to be less than tough, less than independent, with him. Her parents had so badly wanted her to be independent, career-driven, self-sufficient; with Kem, she could be herself. Maybe she was only just figuring out what exactly that was, but he was along for the ride and he was with her every step of the way. Even when he'd left, he'd been thinking of her. She knew it with her understanding of their bond.
Tonight there would be no stopping at caressing and kissing. Tonight, wit its magical moon, was the perfect night for loving each other completely. With that thought in mind she smiled up at Kem and began to free the buttons of his shirt from top to bottom.
Aishe never asked, and she didn't expect an answer. But Kem berated himself for not being able to give an unreserved "yes." It wasn't a question of love. He knew, without doubt and without insecurity, that he loved Aishe more then he'd ever loved anyone. More than he'd loved Ha-Neferet or even Sennwy. But to repeat his long life?
It was a question that defied answers, and Aishe stopped him from thinking about it with an efective suggestion that halted all thoughts in their tracks.
[I love you too, Aishe.]
He couldn't put enough sincerity into those words so he let his feelings emphasize the sending.
Aishe's slender fingers were playing with his shirt, undoing the buttons, and Kem wasn't about to stop her. The love between them, the bonds and the ties, had gone so far beyond simply holding each other.
Perhaps on any other night he'd have questioned himself, held himself back, refused to move any further than was polite. But this was Aishe, and they were so in tune with each other tonight that there was no doubting her desires or her feelings. Never had a caress felt so completely right.
He leaned back when she pushed a little, a mischievous smile on her lips, and flashed a grin of his own up at her. Then he checked himself for a moment, rising up on one elbow and looking around.
"Aishe... right here?"
His smile up at her was nothing but delight, and it didn't take long for them to both have caught the playful mood.
Kem's question brought her up short for a moment, but Aishe simply nodded her head down at him, looking impish. "Right here."
He didn't really seem inclined to argue, for even as he had questioned her, his hands were busily exploring in the same way as hers, finding any buttons, zippers, hooks, and working them loose.
Before long they were exchanging sweet, simple caresses underneath the darkened sky. Every touch and every kiss drew them closer together, physically, emotionally. Aishe hadn't had a great many lovers in her life, nor, she imagined, had Kem, but that fact seemed to make it all the more special.
The expression on Kem's face was one she'd seen only rarely, for it was clear to her that at least for tonight he'd rid himself of the burdens he carried with him. For a moment at a time she got a glimpse of him as he must have looked when he was turned, face completely free of worries, without the weight of sixteen centuries on his shoulders. It was something she vowed to remember, so she would know every time she brought him to this point, hopefully more and more often.
It was just as much for her, too, though. Aishe had only to look at Kem's face, watch as he whispered to her to see the shapes and colors of love and desire, which fluttered about in the air for a few moments before dissipating. Through the double sensations of empathy and bond, there was almost too much information to handle, but all delightful and all gloriously liberating.
Kem lost track of whose lips had kissed where, whose fingers had brushed what... he and Aishe were simply twined about each other like slumbering cats, moving toward a distinct, pleasurable goal.
It seemed only right, in light of how they'd met, how many nights they'd spent sitting on the shores of the Nile, that this was how and where they truly joined. It was fitting that the ocean be close by, and that the moon be shining down upon them with a knowing smile.
Without worries and without fear, the two lovers gently rolled over, pulling half the blanket with them to block out the light breeze. It was only fitting, after all that had passed between them, that as they finally drew together and let actions take over where words were simply inadequate, the moon and the ocean were the only witnesses at all.
((ooc: Aishe and Kem out))