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Part 2


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#1 Guest_Flarn_*

Posted 19 February 2007 - 04:47 AM

A strange expression passed over her face but was gone before he could identify the emotion it represented. Again the eloquent arching of one golden brow. "Indeed?"

"Yes," Khalid admitted hesitantly. Was there nothing that could truly surprise this remarkable lady? "I was just returning home from my shift. I could show you the way."

"Well..." Jaheira was frowning for a reason Khalid couldn't comprehend. "I suppose since you know the way and I do not, it would make sense for us to travel together."

"Yes it would," he agreed, giving her a slight smile. He was making progress by leaps and bounds! Not only had he talked to a woman all by himself, but he had convinced her to walk with him for a time. /Out of convenience/, a voice within him sneered, and Khalid sighed to himself. The voice was probably right, it usually was. Still, it was an opportunity he wasn't about to pass up.

"So who are you?" he asked.

"I am Jaheira," she replied curtly as she fell into step beside him, easily matching his stride though he dwarfed her by a head.

Khalid felt his heart sink as her studied her exquisite, hawklike profile out of the corner of his eye. What had happened to the warmth he had glimpsed? For the half-elven beauty suddenly seemed as cold as the furthest reaches of Icewind Dale.

He sighed deeply. He had done something wrong again, somehow. He had a knack for saying or doing the wrong thing, it seemed to stretch into every aspect of his life but his swordplay. A part of him insisted that, even though he knew his father was prejudiced against the elven race, if he just found the right combination of actions and words, if he just knew how to do something right for a change, he might earn his father's love.

Khalid gave Jaheira another wistful glance - it had been a nice fantasy he supposed, the idea that perhaps he and this enchanting creature might have more in common than their mixed blood. At least he could enjoy her presence for a little while on the walk home, that would have to do, he supposed. Studying her, he suddenly wished he could see her hair in all its glory, but he would have to settle for glimpsing the few golden brown strands escaping confinement. Oh how they teased him with all the possible beauty that still lay hidden!

Wait... was that... no, yes... it was! The caressing breeze ruffled the scarf she wore, pressing it against her bronzed cheek, and suddenly he could see her eyes, giving him that same sidelong look.

When it sank in that he had "caught" her looking, Jaheira's gaze snapped forward, and she pulled the scarf more closely around her face. Did he detect a muffled oath, carried away by the wind?

That was... unexpected. Perhaps... perhaps... Could it be that he had given up too soon? He hesitated. All his life, most any time he ventured to reach out and bring people closer he was rejected, but the end that was what decided him. His own father had little interest in him, had demonstrated that repeatedly. If he could handle that rejection, then he could certainly handle the rejection of a woman he barely knew, even a woman who made his heart tremble like a broken thing in his chest, made him wish the breeze was still so that he might catch a whiff of her unique scent, something more to add to the image of her in his mind. The perfect picture of the inevitable might-have-been.

He could take it, Khalid decided, steeling himself, he *would* take it. Better this than spending the rest of his life wondering if it might have made a difference. Just this once he was going to be bold without a sword in his hands, even if it was only boldly stupid.

He had to say something, something that would get her attention. Something that demanded a reply. Evidently mere conversation was not going to suffice. He studied her again, this time without a return glance. Already she had shown herself to be a proud, passionate woman - well, anger was a passionate emotion, wasn't it? And if he couldn't have any of her tender passions, then at least he could have passion of a kind, anything would be better than cold silence to pass the time on the walk home.

What could he say? What could get a rise out of her? Suddenly it hit him. Ah. Perfect. He hoped it wouldn't hurt too much when she broke every bone in his body.

"You are wrong." He said aloud, forcing his tone to stay firm even through the natural hesitation of his stutter.

She didn't answer.

"You are wrong." Louder now, impossible for her not to have heard. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never deliberately started an argument with anyone, had always tried to end them as soon as possible. Of course what he had with his father weren't really arguments, more like one sided tirades which Khalid simply had to flee, or if flight wasn't an option, endure.

Jaheira stopped in her tracks, without turning to face him. Her voice was low and dangerous, it should have been frightening, but instead it slid over his nerves, like the caress of raw silk. "What did you say?"

"You heard me," Khalid replied. Why, oh why, did he have to sound like he was quaking in his boots? There was no help for it, so he would have to simply demonstrate his attempt at assertiveness in other ways. Like by not running away as the full force of those incredible, fiery amber eyes now turned on him in fury.

To his surprise she didn't explode right away as he was expecting, merely looked at him expectantly, impatiently, her lip a sweet, mutinous curve in its own way as tantalising as her smile.

He didn't speak, was caught up in admiration. Did she recognize his gaze for what it was? Did she know that she was making his mouth dry?

"Well?" If she did, she didn't seem to be giving him any indication.

"Well..." Khalid echoed, still entranced.

"If you tell someone they are wrong, you had better have the courtesy to tell them what about. Otherwise someone could assume that you were looking for an excuse to brawl." Just give me one, her eyes seemed to say. What *had* gotten into her?

"Your name, it is your name."

"What?" Confusion replaced some of the hard anger in Jaheira's face, and it was another charming expression Khalid added to his collection of memories to be savoured.

"Jaheira is your name," he stuttered, "it is not who you are."

"I suppose..." she admitted, shifting her weight unconsciously.

"A p-part, but not all. I c-can tell there is more... I w-want to know more."

"You can't always get what you want," she said, through faintly gritted teeth.

"Why not?" he asked. "You seemed like you were friendly enough before. I was beginning to enjoy it..." Another risk, another chance for rejection. His breath grew tight in his chest as he opened another chink in his armour and waited for the deathblow.

"I was making conversation," she answered. "I have a purpose to being in this city and I discovered you could assist me in that purpose."

Khalid released the breath he had been holding. He'd definitely had worse rejections than this.

Jaheira looked away, studying one of the tall, onion domes of a nearby temple. "I am... grateful for that," she added, as an afterthought, a peace offering? Her teeth snuck out to worry her bottom lip very briefly before she seemed to catch herself, masking her expression under more annoyance.

His mind worked frantically. There was something here, he just had to find it. "You know, I almost think you would have gone on being perfectly hospitable if... yes, that's it!" He tried not to crow in his excitement, but he was sure he was right. "You stopped right when you discovered my father's name. Why is that?"

"I... That's not true!"

Khalid narrowed his eyes. "Just what sort of business do you have with my father?"

"That is none of your concern."

"It most d-definitely is my concern. He is my father." Even if he would rather not be. "Do you have a grudge against him? Has he offended you?" Regardless of his relationship with his father, he wasn't about to lead an enemy to the family home. He cursed himself for his stupidity.

"No! No! No!" Jaheira waved her hands in frustration. "That is not it at all."

Khalid looked at her uncertainly, feeling as though his emotions were runaway horses pulling him in several different directions at once, pulling him apart.

She took a deep breath and calmed somewhat. "I assure you... Khalid," her voice caressed the syllables of his name again, "I have not come to harm your father, only to speak with him." Her changing eyes sought and held his, and to his relief he could see truth there in her unflinching gaze.

His shoulders slumped in relief. Now he could truly be grateful for what he had without expecting anything more. She was not an enemy, he would not have to defend his father against her - and he would have, to the death if necessary, though it would have torn his heart in two. And he was grateful, truly, humbly grateful that Jaheira would stay beautiful in his mind, a bronzed goddess with a spicy temper and a sweet smile, forever worshipped in memory.

"You must love your father very much." The soft-voiced observation startled him, all the more so in his state of emotional rawness.

He blinked away tears forming in his eyes, cursing himself for succumbing to what his father called his "pathetic weakness" again. It didn't matter what the man had done or said, the decades of opulent neglect and brief fits of temper. It was a moment before he could speak, desperately trying to control his voice, threatening to tremble now as much from emotion as his natural tendency. "Yes, I suppose... I suppose I do."

If he had been having this conversation with his father, or something like it, because they never discussed feelings, something his father considered an "unmanly" topic, Kasim would have been berating him for weeping like a woman, though Khalid never let the tears fall, well, not where his father could see, in any case. He always tried to keep them out of his eyes, or brush them away, but the older man had the eyes of a hawk, and eagerly seized upon any chance to humiliate him.

Jaheira too, had the eyes of a hawk, but scornful words did not come from her observations. She simply reached out and touched his arm gently. The compassionate gesture was almost his undoing. "I never knew my father," she told him, in a voice that was no longer angry, but filled with regret. "My parents were killed when I was a baby. I never knew either one."

"I suppose I am lucky then," Khalid gave a watery laugh at the irony.

"Your relationship is troubled?" she asked softly.

"I suppose you could call it that," he acknowledged with a wry smile. Though he had managed to keep from weeping openly, his nose stubbornly decided to fill, adding to his humiliation. He sniffed surreptitiously, and cursed, wishing he had a handkerchief. It wasn't exactly wise to wipe your nose on your sleeve when you were wearing armour.

Jaheira noticed this as well, and, before he could protest, before he could steel himself for her radiance, she had unwound the orange and white scarf from around her head and her hair tumbled free in glorious waves that flowed about her shoulders. Bronze and brown, gold and brass, cinnamon and copper, it danced it the wind like pale flames, like ribbons of light.

A few people stared and even stopped to gawk at this uncouth foreigner who dared to bare her head in a busy Calimshan street.

"That's not necessary," he protested, "your m-modesty."

"Is a foolish affectation. Why hide what Nature has given us as though it were shameful?" She pressed the scarf into his hands. "Now blow," she instructed. "They," she indicated the staring passers-by and glared meaningfully at the stopped gawkers until they nervously moved on, "will simply have to take me as I am."

Khalid stared at the scarf in his hands. It was a soft, breezy cotton, but far too large to be a handkerchief. Awkwardly, he took a corner and blew his nose as she instructed, embarrassed, but grateful for the relief from his betraying nose. When he was finished he looked at the scarf he still held, and then at Jaheira. "I c-could have it washed for you."

"No," she told him, "I am glad to for the feeling of my hair blowing in the wind again." She stretched unconsciously like a cat in the sun, and her breasts moved against the leather of her tunic. There was a muted thud and a clatter as a man carrying metal pots ran into a nearby wall, but Jaheira didn't seem to notice the effect she was having on others, or on Khalid for that matter. Suddenly a running nose was the least of his worries, and he became very, very grateful for his armour. "You have relieved me of a most irritating burden. Keep it, with my thanks." And she smiled at him again.

Khalid looked at the scarf in his hands in amazement. Did this mean what he thought it meant? Had he just secured himself his first favour from a lady? After taking a moment to let it sink in, he decided he would not push his luck with Jaheira by asking her to clarify, and simply returned her smile instead.




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