Amir's note had clearly stated where he would be, so Mara made her way to the Park and down to the beach. She hated the water, but she wasn't going to be in it so it was tolerable.
She walked quietly along the edge of the ground where grass met sand, her long skirt brushing along the tall plants, feeling edgy. She didn't understand why here, of all places. But Mara knew how to read her creator; he was, after all, if not her very most favorite person then an ultra-close second. Well... possibly, it was a tie.
Mara paused when she saw Amir sitting on the shore under the light of the half-moon. He looked very small, one speck of life on a narrow strip that separated land from sea. He had his feet in the water, knees bent, his arms resting on them and his chin on his arms. As she watched he idly felt around for a stone and hurled it out into the waves, then returned to staring.
Any number of things could have caused Amir's mood. There was a lot troubling him, she knew, and generally when Amir was troubled he sought solitude like he was doing now. But the fact that he had thought to leave her a note when she went to find him tonight meant he was willing to talk; and likely that he even wanted to talk. Mara smiled to herself. Her creator was proud. He didn't like to admit to any need whatsoever. She could play along; after all, for the number of times he had stood up for her, intervened on her behalf, listened to her fears, and been her only friend, it was the least she could do to repay him.
He didn't look up when she approached but she knew he was aware of her nonetheless. Silently she walked up behind him and smoothed her skirt against her legs. Fluidly, she folded herself down so that her legs were behind him, but her torso was slightly to the side. Leaning forward, she rested her chin upon Amir's shoulder and looked up at him.
"You wanted to see me?"
Avoidance and Confrontation (private)
Amir sat on the beach, feet and ankles occasionally submerged in the lapping water of the expansive ocean. Being at the Park didn't worry him. Not only was he out in the open, impossible to sneak up on, but in his mood he didn't care if the entire werewolf population of Nachton descended upon him.
He couldn't explain the way he'd been feeling lately. He couldn't categorize the strangeness he felt discussing Pak with Bao. Amir was used to things being normal, being static and unchanging, and when they deviated from their well-worm paths he became restless and uneasy. Such was the way things had been going since that night, here, at the Preserve, when he'd been forced to reconsider the notion that his own creator might somehow have slowly begun to turn on him.
Was it really possible, and was he really considering it as a possibility? The idea was outrageous to Amir, who had followed Subira with unwavering loyalty since the night of his turning. But over the course of his dicussions with both Dana and Bao, he had begun to realize he was sinking lower and lower into a pool of hypocrisy and Amir didn't like that at all.
Dana's own creator admitted to using her, to making her for a purpose and discarding her when she deviated. But Amir didn't think the parallel was accurate; he knew, without doubt, that when Subira had turned him there had been more than that involved. They were friends; she was one of the few he had. More than that, she had trusted him through the years, through the centuries, with secrets and knowledge that she'd not shared with anyone.
No, if something was changed it was a recent development, one that Amir didn't know the nature of.
It brought him, then, to Bao. Bao, who seemed reluctant to admit that he was beginning to care for Pak. Amir wasn't born yesterday; he could read Bao like a book most of the time. Yet he suspected Pakpao wouldn't be easily led. And sadly, he suspected the same of Kiamhaat.
In the past Amir had never been reluctant to kill any of their own kind when they had proven deviant or reckless. He couldn't even begin to count the numbers of vampires' lives he'd taken, but often those judgments had come from Subira.
He thought back on them. Were they really hers, or had some facet of his own dislike been involved?
Scowling at the rippling waves, Amir picked up a rock from the pebble-scattered beach and hurled it out into the ocean.
Mara
14 years ago
Amir
14 years ago
Mara's steps were soft, cat-like even when not in feline form. Amir felt her brush against his back, felt her warmth immediately as she sank down behind him, and very nearly smiled as she peeked up at him from beneath thick black lashes. She hadn't worn contacts tonight; her pretty, pale eyes were their natural color as they regarded him curiously.
He hadn't requested her presence; his note had just told her where he would be. He hadn't even been sure she would be around tonight. But leave it to Mara to read between the lines. He wouldn't have left her a note if he hadn't wanted to be found if she did stop by.
Amir nodded in response. Beyond that, though, he had trouble voicing his thoughts. He wasn't used to discussing topics like this with anyone, even Mara. He wasn't used to having doubts or insecurities. Amir generally made a choice and stuck with it come hell or high water. It was hard to turn his head from whichever direction he was facing, but he had to admit defeat at this point.
"I don't know what to do," he finally muttered irritably.
He hadn't requested her presence; his note had just told her where he would be. He hadn't even been sure she would be around tonight. But leave it to Mara to read between the lines. He wouldn't have left her a note if he hadn't wanted to be found if she did stop by.
Amir nodded in response. Beyond that, though, he had trouble voicing his thoughts. He wasn't used to discussing topics like this with anyone, even Mara. He wasn't used to having doubts or insecurities. Amir generally made a choice and stuck with it come hell or high water. It was hard to turn his head from whichever direction he was facing, but he had to admit defeat at this point.
"I don't know what to do," he finally muttered irritably.
Mara
14 years ago
"Ah," Mara said, as if Amir's response held all the answers to every question it had raised.
Any number of things could be on his mind. Dana, Bao, Pakpao, Subira, her own father. Mara suspected it was a combination of all of those factors. Amir wasn't necessarily given to expressing himself in words. She had the means to help though; how else could one become good at having information if one weren't accustomed to having to dig for it?
Mara leaned forward, resting against Amir's back, linking her hands together around his waist. It was an oddly intimate position, especially given her normal reluctance to get close to any man for personal pleasure. There was no fear here though, this was Amir. Mara trusted no one more.
To her surprise, after a moment, Amir sank back against her. He leaned most of his weight onto one hand and the other fell naturally against hers, twined over his stomach.
"Start where it all started," she suggested. "If you can piece together exactly how it got this way, then maybe you can figure out a logical course of action from there."
Amir liked reason and practicality. He didn't indulge in fits of emotion, drama, or whimsy. Therefore, if they approached whatever was troubling him in a rational manner, it would be easier for him to distance himself and really look at things with an objective eye. At least, that was her hope.
Any number of things could be on his mind. Dana, Bao, Pakpao, Subira, her own father. Mara suspected it was a combination of all of those factors. Amir wasn't necessarily given to expressing himself in words. She had the means to help though; how else could one become good at having information if one weren't accustomed to having to dig for it?
Mara leaned forward, resting against Amir's back, linking her hands together around his waist. It was an oddly intimate position, especially given her normal reluctance to get close to any man for personal pleasure. There was no fear here though, this was Amir. Mara trusted no one more.
To her surprise, after a moment, Amir sank back against her. He leaned most of his weight onto one hand and the other fell naturally against hers, twined over his stomach.
"Start where it all started," she suggested. "If you can piece together exactly how it got this way, then maybe you can figure out a logical course of action from there."
Amir liked reason and practicality. He didn't indulge in fits of emotion, drama, or whimsy. Therefore, if they approached whatever was troubling him in a rational manner, it would be easier for him to distance himself and really look at things with an objective eye. At least, that was her hope.
Amir
14 years ago
The slight pressure of Mara's weight against his back was reassuring; odd considering he hadn't thought reassurance was necessary. Her arms around his waist almost made him jump until he thought about it briefly; even Mara wanted contact now and then, and it was natural for her to turn to him. Amir leaned back against her, not heavily, one arm supporting him. His free hand brushed hers and stayed.
He did smile a little, at her logical start. It was the way he usually looked at things himself. There was something to be said for centuries of familiarity, wasn't there. Still staring at the regular movement of the waves, Amir lost his brief smile and became solemn again.
"Part of it is the full moon," he said. "Or, precisely, what happened after. I didn't give it much thought until later."
He frowned. "Subira wasn't as pleased as I thought she would be," he admitted to Mara, even though his pride quailed at the idea of even indirectly admitting he might have been wrong.
"I don't need praise," he said, "but it was a job well done that night."
He'd been on a killing spree before bumping into Xephier and his bitches; for several hours that night he had been unstoppable, powerful, more of a predator than the wolves themselves. He had loved it, had reveled in it, had expected that feeling of success and empowerment to have been shared and returned. But it had been met with a lukewarm response.
"She wants more," he said with a flash of his previous irritation. He didn't continue; Amir wasn't certain how to give voice to the other thoughts inside.
He did smile a little, at her logical start. It was the way he usually looked at things himself. There was something to be said for centuries of familiarity, wasn't there. Still staring at the regular movement of the waves, Amir lost his brief smile and became solemn again.
"Part of it is the full moon," he said. "Or, precisely, what happened after. I didn't give it much thought until later."
He frowned. "Subira wasn't as pleased as I thought she would be," he admitted to Mara, even though his pride quailed at the idea of even indirectly admitting he might have been wrong.
"I don't need praise," he said, "but it was a job well done that night."
He'd been on a killing spree before bumping into Xephier and his bitches; for several hours that night he had been unstoppable, powerful, more of a predator than the wolves themselves. He had loved it, had reveled in it, had expected that feeling of success and empowerment to have been shared and returned. But it had been met with a lukewarm response.
"She wants more," he said with a flash of his previous irritation. He didn't continue; Amir wasn't certain how to give voice to the other thoughts inside.
Mara
14 years ago
Mara felt a flush of guilt. She knew better than anyone that Amir wasn't infallible; he made mistakes, he questioned himself. But he usually did so privately. Outwardly he radiated confidence and reassurance. It was partly her fault that he was experiencing this now; she had planted that seed as she repaired his torn and broken body in the aftermath of that powerful night. If she hadn't said anything, if she hadn't voiced her own concerns, would he ever have given it a second thought?
The remorse faded quickly enough; Mara still thought she was right. She still thought she was doing what was best. Sometimes Amir had to be beaten with a club to see anything other than what he thought was there. In this case, however, it hadn't been Mara's design but someone else's. She wasn't working for one person anymore. She had several masters.
She spoke when Amir fell silent, guessing at the rest of it. "You feel like you're going to be spread too thin," she said softly. "You're one man in a den full of wolves."
Amir's nod in response was a short, quick, jerk of his head. Mara knew what it cost him in pride to admit it, but at the same time she thought it necessary to force the issue. She had guessed correctly about Subira; more and more she thought she was right. The problem wasn't Amir. The problem was Amir's creator. Something had gone wrong with her at some point. She wasn't the woman she had once been, and for years she had been dragging Amir right along. Only now was he beginning to see what was happening, and Mara wasn't entirely certain he was convinced yet. With Amir, it could take years.
Paying attention to the topic at hand while the wheels in her head continued to spin, Mara sighed gently. "That's because you are just one man, as long as you insist upon it." She shook her head against his shoulder to forestall any argument. "I understand why. I know that's how it has to be, but of course it can't keep you from feeling like you're being thrown to the wolves. You are."
Pun intended. Amir knew this though. He was the one who'd insisted on doing this alone, or at least giving the appearance of being alone. Mara couldn't change that. it surprised her though, and in a way, didn't surprise her, that Amir didn't want to be alone. He was always so self-sufficient. But then, he had always believed in Subira and that bond was being shaken now.
The remorse faded quickly enough; Mara still thought she was right. She still thought she was doing what was best. Sometimes Amir had to be beaten with a club to see anything other than what he thought was there. In this case, however, it hadn't been Mara's design but someone else's. She wasn't working for one person anymore. She had several masters.
She spoke when Amir fell silent, guessing at the rest of it. "You feel like you're going to be spread too thin," she said softly. "You're one man in a den full of wolves."
Amir's nod in response was a short, quick, jerk of his head. Mara knew what it cost him in pride to admit it, but at the same time she thought it necessary to force the issue. She had guessed correctly about Subira; more and more she thought she was right. The problem wasn't Amir. The problem was Amir's creator. Something had gone wrong with her at some point. She wasn't the woman she had once been, and for years she had been dragging Amir right along. Only now was he beginning to see what was happening, and Mara wasn't entirely certain he was convinced yet. With Amir, it could take years.
Paying attention to the topic at hand while the wheels in her head continued to spin, Mara sighed gently. "That's because you are just one man, as long as you insist upon it." She shook her head against his shoulder to forestall any argument. "I understand why. I know that's how it has to be, but of course it can't keep you from feeling like you're being thrown to the wolves. You are."
Pun intended. Amir knew this though. He was the one who'd insisted on doing this alone, or at least giving the appearance of being alone. Mara couldn't change that. it surprised her though, and in a way, didn't surprise her, that Amir didn't want to be alone. He was always so self-sufficient. But then, he had always believed in Subira and that bond was being shaken now.
Amir
14 years ago
Amir scowled and sat up, breaking away from Mara, rolling back up into his previous hunched-over position. "I don't mind doing my job when I'm clear on what that job is," he pointed out. He shook his head, once again stymied by his own lack of eloquence. Amir wasn't a complainer. It wasn't really his thing. He enjoyed working, liked doing what he did, liked his place in the Clan. He just didn't see what purpose was served by waging a one-man guerrilla war against two packs of wolves.
"What point is there in throwing myself at them again and again? Sure, there's a certain fun factor involved," even his bad mood couldn't make him suppress a quick, wild grin at that, "but I can't possibly eliminate them."
Not by himself. Not on a one-vampire crusade. Subira had never before objected to his methods. Control of the werewolves had always been preferable to degenerating to wholesale slaughter, at least in the last several hundred years.
"So assuming it's Subira who changed, and not me," he said, cringing at voicing those words out loud, "what did it? What caused it?"
He turned to Mara, who had moved when he did. "Or did I change? Was it me, Mara?"
"What point is there in throwing myself at them again and again? Sure, there's a certain fun factor involved," even his bad mood couldn't make him suppress a quick, wild grin at that, "but I can't possibly eliminate them."
Not by himself. Not on a one-vampire crusade. Subira had never before objected to his methods. Control of the werewolves had always been preferable to degenerating to wholesale slaughter, at least in the last several hundred years.
"So assuming it's Subira who changed, and not me," he said, cringing at voicing those words out loud, "what did it? What caused it?"
He turned to Mara, who had moved when he did. "Or did I change? Was it me, Mara?"
Mara
14 years ago
As Amir moved away, too restless to recline against her for long, Mara moved with him. She pushed herself up to her knees and re-situated herself next to him, facing him, heedless of the damp sand soaking int her skirt. It was light and would dry off quickly, and the the night was warm.
Mara observed Amir as he spoke, watched his deceptively young face for signs up trouble, but his words were enough for her to gauge the depth of his upset. Amir rarely questioned himself. Hard enough for him to admit he was getting out of his depth, but it was another thing entirely for him to question his own faith in his creator, and then in himself.
As he turned to her, she was shocked to see the worry in his dark eyes. Mara wasn't used to this either. In all the years she'd known Amir, she had seen him upset before but not in this manner. They had both met with anger, hopelessness, despair, grief, and sadness. This was new. This was none of the above.
If their roles were reversed Amir would have held her close, stroked her hair, calmed her with his strength and steadiness as he always did. But it was he who seemed to need answers tonight, and Mara knew that such tenderness would only irritate him further. So she sat back and regarded him with eyes as pale as his were dark, and considered.
"We all change," she finally said softly. "One year to the next, one decade to the next. One century after another. You told me that." Amir dipped his head in acknowledgment. "You have too."
She wanted to tread carefully here, for the seeds of yet another idea were growing in Mara's mind. Amir's brow furrowed, but he waited for her to speak. She wasn't sure he'd have listened to anyone else. Bao, perhaps, but even Bao didn't have the freedom of identity that Mara often exercised.
"But you've always been Amir," she continued. "Nothing about who you are has changed." She'd known him the longest, after all. "Fundamentally, you're the same person you've always been."
There were differences though, little ones. Amir had grown more intense, more narrow-minded. It was as if his personality traits had somehow grown exaggerated. Oh, he was still the same caring teacher, the same mentor, the same beloved creator to her he had always been. Mara didn't think anything could change that relationship.
And that was a key, she realized.
"Are you sure it started then? Not before?"
Mara observed Amir as he spoke, watched his deceptively young face for signs up trouble, but his words were enough for her to gauge the depth of his upset. Amir rarely questioned himself. Hard enough for him to admit he was getting out of his depth, but it was another thing entirely for him to question his own faith in his creator, and then in himself.
As he turned to her, she was shocked to see the worry in his dark eyes. Mara wasn't used to this either. In all the years she'd known Amir, she had seen him upset before but not in this manner. They had both met with anger, hopelessness, despair, grief, and sadness. This was new. This was none of the above.
If their roles were reversed Amir would have held her close, stroked her hair, calmed her with his strength and steadiness as he always did. But it was he who seemed to need answers tonight, and Mara knew that such tenderness would only irritate him further. So she sat back and regarded him with eyes as pale as his were dark, and considered.
"We all change," she finally said softly. "One year to the next, one decade to the next. One century after another. You told me that." Amir dipped his head in acknowledgment. "You have too."
She wanted to tread carefully here, for the seeds of yet another idea were growing in Mara's mind. Amir's brow furrowed, but he waited for her to speak. She wasn't sure he'd have listened to anyone else. Bao, perhaps, but even Bao didn't have the freedom of identity that Mara often exercised.
"But you've always been Amir," she continued. "Nothing about who you are has changed." She'd known him the longest, after all. "Fundamentally, you're the same person you've always been."
There were differences though, little ones. Amir had grown more intense, more narrow-minded. It was as if his personality traits had somehow grown exaggerated. Oh, he was still the same caring teacher, the same mentor, the same beloved creator to her he had always been. Mara didn't think anything could change that relationship.
And that was a key, she realized.
"Are you sure it started then? Not before?"
Amir
14 years ago
He could always tell when Mara had an idea. She fixed him with that unblinking stare, as she was doing now, but she didn't say anything on the topic. She just addressed his foolishly insecure questions, without rubbing anything in, without causing him any more embarrassment than he was currently causing himself.
"Not before?" He echoed her question back at her, thinking. Had this strangeness begun earlier than the last full moon?
"I don't know," he responded, his voice distant with curiosity.
He'd made the observation himself, though, that this time around his experience in Nachton wasn't the same as it had been previously. So maybe it had. Had it?
He was losing his train of thought, another particularly disturbing occurrence. Amir was normally very focused, very together. What had he done differently in Nachton this time?
"Dana," he said suddenly. He glanced at Mara. "I've never actually had a companion before." A relationship, he really should have said, but with Mara sitting there it seemed - wrong. Why would it seem wrong? She had never shown any signs that she disliked Dana.
Was Dana even relevant? "I don't think that's what changed anything though," he said dismissively, yet the idea continued to bounce around in his head.
"Not before?" He echoed her question back at her, thinking. Had this strangeness begun earlier than the last full moon?
"I don't know," he responded, his voice distant with curiosity.
He'd made the observation himself, though, that this time around his experience in Nachton wasn't the same as it had been previously. So maybe it had. Had it?
He was losing his train of thought, another particularly disturbing occurrence. Amir was normally very focused, very together. What had he done differently in Nachton this time?
"Dana," he said suddenly. He glanced at Mara. "I've never actually had a companion before." A relationship, he really should have said, but with Mara sitting there it seemed - wrong. Why would it seem wrong? She had never shown any signs that she disliked Dana.
Was Dana even relevant? "I don't think that's what changed anything though," he said dismissively, yet the idea continued to bounce around in his head.
Mara
14 years ago
Mara bit the inside of her cheek, hiding her concern. She worried about Amir, and if her guesses were right she had reason to.
"No, you're right," she agreed. "I don't think it changed anything either. You're you, Amir. You always have been."
There was no use in posing even more unbelievable theories to him than she already had. Not until she did her research. And that was something Mara excelled at.
Focusing on changing the subject, she prodded gently in another direction. "You said this was only part of what was troubling you," she reminded Amir. "What else is on your mind?"
Mara suspected a good deal of the rest of it, although she couldn't reveal that to Amir without letting him know just how deeply she'd stuck her hand into that particular cookie jar. She knew Amir was every bit as observant as she, and just as clever. Mara had trouble, sometimes, knowing exactly how much of her private life he really knew about, how much he let by because of who she was, and how much she had successfully kept hidden... that was, of the few things she actually wanted to hide.
Indeed, he turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised in question, his expression clearly indicating she was welcomed to guess. She huffed a sigh, still uncertain how much he knew.
"Bao and his runaway, Pakpao," she said, waiting for him to nod once more before continuing, "but why should that bother you? Surely he's handling it?"
"No, you're right," she agreed. "I don't think it changed anything either. You're you, Amir. You always have been."
There was no use in posing even more unbelievable theories to him than she already had. Not until she did her research. And that was something Mara excelled at.
Focusing on changing the subject, she prodded gently in another direction. "You said this was only part of what was troubling you," she reminded Amir. "What else is on your mind?"
Mara suspected a good deal of the rest of it, although she couldn't reveal that to Amir without letting him know just how deeply she'd stuck her hand into that particular cookie jar. She knew Amir was every bit as observant as she, and just as clever. Mara had trouble, sometimes, knowing exactly how much of her private life he really knew about, how much he let by because of who she was, and how much she had successfully kept hidden... that was, of the few things she actually wanted to hide.
Indeed, he turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised in question, his expression clearly indicating she was welcomed to guess. She huffed a sigh, still uncertain how much he knew.
"Bao and his runaway, Pakpao," she said, waiting for him to nod once more before continuing, "but why should that bother you? Surely he's handling it?"
Amir
14 years ago
Amir snorted. "He's handling it, all right. And she's got him right where she wants him."
That wasn't the problem. Amir was pleased with things as they were, truth be told. Bao and Pakpao should get along, or at least have the chance to. The trouble was, Amir was having trouble reconciling his own opinions with their potential outcome.
"I know what needs to be done," he said angrily, "or at least, what should be done. But I'm hesitating and I don't know why."
He didn't want to drag Mara further into it. Amir knew why he was hesitating. Because he faced a similar situation. Because what he should do was find Kiamhaat and finish him. Once upon a time he'd wanted to teach him, keep him close, grow him into his abilities and into his full strength. That time was long gone and Amir couldn't see any point in nurturing the Evenhet.
The trouble was, Amir had never been called upon to kill one of his own line. Theoretically, he shouldn't care. Anything that wasn't Anantya should have been culled. But since arriving in Nachton, he'd grown... something. Maybe ore tolerant. Maybe just more ambivalent. Amir couldn't name it; but the Clan label didn't seem quite as important as it had.
And then there was Mara. Could he really participate in a grudge match against her father, knowing what it would do to her? Knowing how much she still loved him? He cared for Mara. Her opinion mattered to him. He had never knowingly or willingly hurt her. Such a fight would certainly do that.
Crossing his arms over his drawn up knees Amir returned Mara's speculative gaze. "What do you remember about your childhood?" He asked her curiously. "Before you were thrown at me."
He returned her change of subject with one of his own, smiling slightly as she blinked at him and drew in a breath to say something, then stopped to think.
That wasn't the problem. Amir was pleased with things as they were, truth be told. Bao and Pakpao should get along, or at least have the chance to. The trouble was, Amir was having trouble reconciling his own opinions with their potential outcome.
"I know what needs to be done," he said angrily, "or at least, what should be done. But I'm hesitating and I don't know why."
He didn't want to drag Mara further into it. Amir knew why he was hesitating. Because he faced a similar situation. Because what he should do was find Kiamhaat and finish him. Once upon a time he'd wanted to teach him, keep him close, grow him into his abilities and into his full strength. That time was long gone and Amir couldn't see any point in nurturing the Evenhet.
The trouble was, Amir had never been called upon to kill one of his own line. Theoretically, he shouldn't care. Anything that wasn't Anantya should have been culled. But since arriving in Nachton, he'd grown... something. Maybe ore tolerant. Maybe just more ambivalent. Amir couldn't name it; but the Clan label didn't seem quite as important as it had.
And then there was Mara. Could he really participate in a grudge match against her father, knowing what it would do to her? Knowing how much she still loved him? He cared for Mara. Her opinion mattered to him. He had never knowingly or willingly hurt her. Such a fight would certainly do that.
Crossing his arms over his drawn up knees Amir returned Mara's speculative gaze. "What do you remember about your childhood?" He asked her curiously. "Before you were thrown at me."
He returned her change of subject with one of his own, smiling slightly as she blinked at him and drew in a breath to say something, then stopped to think.
Mara
14 years ago
Before she was thrown at Amir? Mara stared for a moment more and then closed her eyes briefly. Amir seemed to have roused himself from his inability to speak. He was still off-center; something still bothered him. But she put her own ideas on the backburner and thought.
"I remember thirteen years of pain, rape, abuse, loneliness, and suffering," she said. "I remember it as clear as daylight. I remember the smell of that house. I remember the clothing I wore, the way it felt like it was stuck to me. I remember how they held me down at first, how they had to force their way onto me. I remember it all became a blur and soon I didn't care." Her voice was harsh; never in a thousand lifetimes would Mara forget that tiny slice of her youth. It didn't haunt her anymore, not as it had, but it had colored who she was.
"Before that I remember bits and pieces," she continued. "I remember sunlight in the plaza at Giza. I remember a doll with a painted face and real hair. I remember my father's face and his smile. He gave her to me, and he bent to pick me up. I remember him swinging me around. He was so very tall, and he made me fly."
Her recollections here were so much more vague. "I remember my mother's scent, like water lilies. I remember father's laugh. They used to play senet together, and we would watch when they thought we were asleep. I remember the look on my father's face when he left us to bring Aunt home to her husband. As if he knew something bad was going to happen. And I remember the look on his face the day he was returned to our doorstep. I've never seen anyone look so... hollow."
Mara tilted her head. "Why is it important?" Obviously it meant something to Amir, or he wouldn't have asked.
"I remember thirteen years of pain, rape, abuse, loneliness, and suffering," she said. "I remember it as clear as daylight. I remember the smell of that house. I remember the clothing I wore, the way it felt like it was stuck to me. I remember how they held me down at first, how they had to force their way onto me. I remember it all became a blur and soon I didn't care." Her voice was harsh; never in a thousand lifetimes would Mara forget that tiny slice of her youth. It didn't haunt her anymore, not as it had, but it had colored who she was.
"Before that I remember bits and pieces," she continued. "I remember sunlight in the plaza at Giza. I remember a doll with a painted face and real hair. I remember my father's face and his smile. He gave her to me, and he bent to pick me up. I remember him swinging me around. He was so very tall, and he made me fly."
Her recollections here were so much more vague. "I remember my mother's scent, like water lilies. I remember father's laugh. They used to play senet together, and we would watch when they thought we were asleep. I remember the look on my father's face when he left us to bring Aunt home to her husband. As if he knew something bad was going to happen. And I remember the look on his face the day he was returned to our doorstep. I've never seen anyone look so... hollow."
Mara tilted her head. "Why is it important?" Obviously it meant something to Amir, or he wouldn't have asked.
Amir
14 years ago
Amir watched Mara's face as she spoke; despite the length of her life, her childhood memories were scattered but still vivid. It would have made his choices much easier if she didn't remember her father, if she didn't love him after all this time. She spoke of the darkness in her life without blame, although Amir was well aware that if he hadn't interfered Mara's life would have been far shorter, much different, and possibly much happier.
He didn't consider these things often. They seemed irrelevant to him. How did you compare less than two decades of human life to hundreds of years of power, strength, and experience? Was it a personality trait, then, that made him discount his early life entirely?
Amir waited a few moments and then said, "You remember more than I would have guessed. Why is that, do you think? Time? Experience?"
He tilted his head at her. "You would think I'd remember more than I do. But for me, there isn't anything much before Subira."
That was why he owed her his loyalty, he supposed. It was why he did many things he did. Maybe it was why having created one vampire who had run away angered him so.
He didn't consider these things often. They seemed irrelevant to him. How did you compare less than two decades of human life to hundreds of years of power, strength, and experience? Was it a personality trait, then, that made him discount his early life entirely?
Amir waited a few moments and then said, "You remember more than I would have guessed. Why is that, do you think? Time? Experience?"
He tilted his head at her. "You would think I'd remember more than I do. But for me, there isn't anything much before Subira."
That was why he owed her his loyalty, he supposed. It was why he did many things he did. Maybe it was why having created one vampire who had run away angered him so.
Mara
14 years ago
"Nothing much?" But Amir had always remembered his own past. Mara knew that. He'd told her about it long ago, in vivid detail. Very vivid. Why should it be vague to him now?
She reached out and took Amir's hands, turned them over, and slid her hands up his arms, thumbs brushing over the scarred chevrons that pointed toward his palms.
"These don't seem important to you now?"
Amir had always considered them reminders. Reminders of their past and their heritage, reminders of betrayal. He'd told her they had been made in memory of his family when he was young; that none of the surviving villagers would help him claim his revenge, that only Subira had stepped forward to help. A foreigner, not even human. He'd told her the story in great detail, yet it had been over a thousand years ago since he'd done so.
Still, Mara didn't think Amir capable of forgetting something like that. Not even after a lengthy passage of time. The same as she had never forgotten her father's smile or his warm hug and deep, rich laugh. He had always been observant of details, remembering them long after the fact.
She reached out and took Amir's hands, turned them over, and slid her hands up his arms, thumbs brushing over the scarred chevrons that pointed toward his palms.
"These don't seem important to you now?"
Amir had always considered them reminders. Reminders of their past and their heritage, reminders of betrayal. He'd told her they had been made in memory of his family when he was young; that none of the surviving villagers would help him claim his revenge, that only Subira had stepped forward to help. A foreigner, not even human. He'd told her the story in great detail, yet it had been over a thousand years ago since he'd done so.
Still, Mara didn't think Amir capable of forgetting something like that. Not even after a lengthy passage of time. The same as she had never forgotten her father's smile or his warm hug and deep, rich laugh. He had always been observant of details, remembering them long after the fact.
Amir
14 years ago
Mara's thumbs on his arms seared as if they were made of fire. With a start he remembered quite clearly slitting his flesh open with his knife, mingling blood and funereal ash together. Maybe now it was a barbaric custom but then, it was appropriate and traditional. A constant reminder and a way to carry his family with him forever.
Amir raised his eyebrows at Mara. "Of course they're important," he said practically, surprised she should ask. She knew what they had meant to him at the time. Then he shook his head. "It's just that the events have faded."
He flashed her a grin. "I'm old, remember?"
Talking to Mara may not have solved any problems but her presence restored his good humor, and being able to vent to someone had gone a long way toward making him feel better. As always, she was his sounding board. Pulling his arms from her grasp he withdrew one and kept the other out in invitation.
"None of this really matters right now, does it," he said with a short huff of a sigh. "We have to keep doing what we're doing. Even if I can't resolve anything else, I have a job to finish. Nothing about what I said before has changed. I can't fail to do what she asks."
Amir raised his eyebrows at Mara. "Of course they're important," he said practically, surprised she should ask. She knew what they had meant to him at the time. Then he shook his head. "It's just that the events have faded."
He flashed her a grin. "I'm old, remember?"
Talking to Mara may not have solved any problems but her presence restored his good humor, and being able to vent to someone had gone a long way toward making him feel better. As always, she was his sounding board. Pulling his arms from her grasp he withdrew one and kept the other out in invitation.
"None of this really matters right now, does it," he said with a short huff of a sigh. "We have to keep doing what we're doing. Even if I can't resolve anything else, I have a job to finish. Nothing about what I said before has changed. I can't fail to do what she asks."
Mara
14 years ago
Mara noted Amir's expression as she touched his arms. Surprise, maybe, was foremost. He was quickly defensive but she wasn't fooled. And he admitted the memories weren't as close as they had been. Everything he said grew that seed in her mind to bigger and bigger proportions. She felt a hint of panic. Why was she always caught in the middle of these things?
Amir hald his arm out to her and Mara didn't have to be asked twice. It was she who needed reassurance now. As his mood improved, Amir's usual air of confidence and strength was restored and Mara was drawn to it with the relief of one who has come home after traveling. She closed the gap between them and sidled up to him, leaning into him and resting her head against his chest. As his arm wrapped around her she closed her eyes and listened to the slow, steady pound of his heart.
"You're not old," she contradicted him. "You're vintage."
He wasn't wrong though, with what he said next. He'd finally acknowledged that someone, something, had changed. Whether it was himself or his creator, Mara at least felt some comfort in knowing Amir had dropped the denial act. But he still spoke the truth. If he didn't continue to do his job, to be Subira's favorite weapon, her trusted eldest child, she was sure to come to Nachton or send someone in her stead, and Mara knew how little Amir would enjoy that. He liked his freedom. He didn't like to be doubted or questioned.
She nodded her head against his chest. "You have to be careful, Amir." Her words were soft, her worry once more evident. "You are being spread too thin. And you have some terrible enemies here."
There wasn't a wolf within a hundred miles who wouldn't love to have Amir's neck in their jaws right now. The thought scared her. The next time he was in a scrape Amir might not have the opportunity to send a warning.
Amir hald his arm out to her and Mara didn't have to be asked twice. It was she who needed reassurance now. As his mood improved, Amir's usual air of confidence and strength was restored and Mara was drawn to it with the relief of one who has come home after traveling. She closed the gap between them and sidled up to him, leaning into him and resting her head against his chest. As his arm wrapped around her she closed her eyes and listened to the slow, steady pound of his heart.
"You're not old," she contradicted him. "You're vintage."
He wasn't wrong though, with what he said next. He'd finally acknowledged that someone, something, had changed. Whether it was himself or his creator, Mara at least felt some comfort in knowing Amir had dropped the denial act. But he still spoke the truth. If he didn't continue to do his job, to be Subira's favorite weapon, her trusted eldest child, she was sure to come to Nachton or send someone in her stead, and Mara knew how little Amir would enjoy that. He liked his freedom. He didn't like to be doubted or questioned.
She nodded her head against his chest. "You have to be careful, Amir." Her words were soft, her worry once more evident. "You are being spread too thin. And you have some terrible enemies here."
There wasn't a wolf within a hundred miles who wouldn't love to have Amir's neck in their jaws right now. The thought scared her. The next time he was in a scrape Amir might not have the opportunity to send a warning.
Amir
14 years ago
Amir was still unsettled, standing as he was on proverbial unfamiliar territory. But Mara's dry humor made him bark out a short laugh and he drew her close, dropping his cheek onto the top of her silky head and resting there while they both stared out into the unknown.
Her worry wasn't misplaced this time; hell, he was willing to concede that it hadn't been misplaced before either. But there was still nothing to be done about it. He had to think, to plan, and as before, he had to gather information. Nothing had changed there.
"I have some good friends too," he countered. They were few and far between but they were still willing to dig his ass out of a scrape, and that counted for a lot.
Amir wrapped his other arm around Mara. "We've sailed through rougher waters than this," he said, a smile in his voice if not apparent on his face.
It was comfortable to him to reassure her. He'd spent so long doing it, it was second nature to them both perhaps.
Her worry wasn't misplaced this time; hell, he was willing to concede that it hadn't been misplaced before either. But there was still nothing to be done about it. He had to think, to plan, and as before, he had to gather information. Nothing had changed there.
"I have some good friends too," he countered. They were few and far between but they were still willing to dig his ass out of a scrape, and that counted for a lot.
Amir wrapped his other arm around Mara. "We've sailed through rougher waters than this," he said, a smile in his voice if not apparent on his face.
It was comfortable to him to reassure her. He'd spent so long doing it, it was second nature to them both perhaps.
Mara
14 years ago
Mara didn't argue. She couldn't argue. Once again, Amir was right. He had to continue doing what he did. But he couldn't curtail her movements, and she didn't think he knew she was already planning, always planning. There was so much to do suddenly; there were so many directions she had to start looking in at once.
She took this moment of peace for what it was, a brief interlude. She had gotten so wrapped up in prodding Amir she'd forgotten her other reason for coming here tonight. It didn't matter though.
"We have," she agreed. Curling herself up, she wriggled in as close as she could get to Amir's solid presence. It didn't really matter, after all, what the weather was like on the sea. Because everywhere she'd gone, he had always been there. That wasn't going to change. Mara believed that, even in light of what she now suspected, perhaps more than ever; she believed that Amir had always had his reasons for treating her as he had. She'd always assumed it was because of her father initially. Now she had other ideas. Either way she felt oddly reassured. Even though it might get worse before it got any better, Mara thought she might finally have discovered a key to getting everything to turn out right.
((ooc: both out))
She took this moment of peace for what it was, a brief interlude. She had gotten so wrapped up in prodding Amir she'd forgotten her other reason for coming here tonight. It didn't matter though.
"We have," she agreed. Curling herself up, she wriggled in as close as she could get to Amir's solid presence. It didn't really matter, after all, what the weather was like on the sea. Because everywhere she'd gone, he had always been there. That wasn't going to change. Mara believed that, even in light of what she now suspected, perhaps more than ever; she believed that Amir had always had his reasons for treating her as he had. She'd always assumed it was because of her father initially. Now she had other ideas. Either way she felt oddly reassured. Even though it might get worse before it got any better, Mara thought she might finally have discovered a key to getting everything to turn out right.
((ooc: both out))