The Concubine (8 page)

Your voice incites a jump in both of us, unaware of your presence until now. You walk further into the tent, face devoid of emotion.

We share a look, one that only we both understand before I help her to her feet. “Tonight we will speak some more.” she squeezes my hand reassuringly. On her way out she halts at your side, a hand on your shoulder she leans close to whisper something that causes you to glare down at her grinning face.
“Play nice, Marik.” She intones before making her exit.
The awkward silence is oppressive. To distract myself I search and find which of your legs has been injured, and the almost indiscernible limp is so slight and controlled that I would not have noticed had it not been for the fact that I have seen you walk without it. I worry my bottom lip between my teeth and wring my fingers in my grasp. You cannot begin to fathom how deep the sorrow filling my chest goes, how deep the grooves run.
“Marik…”
“For the longest of months I had believed you dead and I hated myself for leaving you, for being so foolish and brash, for believing myself so invincible. And then I heard that you lived and my joy knew no bounds. I gathered the best of my men to go and retrieve you. But my men stopped me from coming after you, believing it stupid and suicidal with the way I was. So I waited and waited, forming plans on how to get you and my kingdom back. But imagine to my surprise upon hearing that you had betrayed me, the only person I ever trusted…”

You are pacing now, keeping your infinite distance I watch and listen.

“I did not believe it at first. I
could
not believe it. But then I saw it...” with furrow brows you stride to me and I take a step back. But your arm is around my waist holding me as you lift my robes, your fingers touching the inner part of my thigh.
“He fucking branded you!” your whisper is harsh, your breathing ragged and rushed as you tug at my robes and they immediately fall to my feet. “Do you know how much I wanted to carve it out of your flesh,
still
do?” your fingers mockingly caress the indented surface. 
“Are you angry, my king, that you did not think of it first?” my voice is biting and angry. If this is how it will be, then let us both display years of emotions. Let us hurt one another in order to either come out victorious or defeated…tonight, my love…let us both hurt. 
“You were mine. I held you on a pedestal above the rest… “I push away from you and allow my hand to fly. Oh how utterly marvelous and satisfying it felt to actually hit you! 
My laugh as you lick the corner of your lip is maniacal and humorless to my ears.
“Is that all I have ever been to you?” I am flying at you now, my fist pounding at your chest. I hated myself for my tears. “Chattel, you have treated me like chattel in all the years I have known you! Just a pretty piece to play with and put back on your damnable pedestal! Did my feelings not matter? Did I not matter?” I have fallen to the floor crying, I am always crying for you,
because
of you! 
“I adored you.” 
“What is adoration to love? I wanted your love! That is all I ever needed! For you to whisper those words to me and yet you did not! You withheld them from me!” 
I struggle against your embrace, but you hold firm, cradling my naked body to your own as I cry. And then you’re kissing me and I willingly succumb…foolishly I allow you to master me once more. 
Our lust is savage in its passion.  On my hands and knees you ravage me so wonderfully. Our arduous cries of pure sex are heard undoubtedly by all.
 

“No matter how hard I try to hate you, it seems I cannot.” you grunt harshly at the nape of my neck and then you bit down and I cry out.
And it seems my king, that I will eternally be enslaved by you. 

***

My soreness alerts me to the night’s activities and a bittersweet feeling overtakes me. How gentle and yet ruthless you were. Three times or was it four that you took me? I have forgotten how insatiable you are or how magical being in your arms can be. In the dark romance of the night it is so easy to forgive and be forgiven. Pretending nothing has changed, years haven’t passed, friendship hasn’t been lost and trusts broken. In the dark our bodies move as one, in the dark you worship me as I worship you, in the dark, in my heart, I love you and you, dearest one, love me in turn.

I rise to find you gone but relief is not far to follow when I find the spot beside me still warm. I pull the coverings over my nude form while my eyes search futilely for my clothes. Before I can rise for a thorough search, you appear and usher in two village maidens who carry with them buckets of steaming water. They’re fastidious in their task, overturning the buckets into the wooden round tub in the corner. Two trips it takes them before the tub is full. When they make their final exit, you tie the tent’s flaps behind the last woman and return to me.

You take me in your arms with effortless flourish. There’s the gentle brush of your lips across my forehead before you lower me gingerly into the steaming tub.

With gentle care you tenderly bathe the excess of our night’s pleasures away. You do not utter a word and I believe none necessary as you cater to me. You’re meticulous, careful in your ministrations and I melt just a little more for you.
“Join me?” I take your hand, my eyes look to yours and in them I see something that gives me hope. Love me Marik and you will have me always.
“Allow me this.” your lips are on my forehead as you speak. “Allow me your sweetness?” you kiss my cheek. “Allow me your kindness?” your lips brush my ear, a shiver runs down my spine.” allow me your gentleness?” you lips are on my own, brushing, licking, delightful butterfly kisses that touches my heart. I lick my lips and ravenously yours searches and seeks them. In a heartbeat I am in your strong arms, wet and scented of you. You carry us to the bedded furs and lay us there. 
Your eyes search my own, passion and something altogether different swirl in your misty depths and I am enraptured my love, so tearfully enraptured. Our breaths come out as if from one entity, my scent and your own is a natural high I would never give up.
“Allow me your body?” your lips are searing in their thorough path down my neck, further and further, blazing a path of mind numbing pleasure. 
Kisses and licks everywhere! I arch into you, as you whisper. “Allow me your love cries.” how tender you are Marik! Your tongue is worshipping my navel, loving it into painfully erotic convulsions. All I can do is fist the fur beneath me, pant your name and arch for more. 
And then your there! Your tongue laves, licks, and sucks, merciless so merciless. My toes curl and I fist your hair, needing you to claim me now.

“Allow me your saccharine cream?” I bite my bottom lip, and my head flies from side to side. I am frenzy of bundled nerves. “Come for me, sweet.” An order I willingly follow, I feel you drinking from me and I cry.
“No more tears, Lea.” You’re there kissing them away, and then your sucking on my lips, your eyes are open, piercing into me. 
“Marik…” I tearfully plead, you knees spread my own, and eagerly I rise to meet the blunt tip of you, your entry so slow, so achingly slow. My hips buck, my body wanting to rapidly swallow you deep. Your hand trails down my hip, a lover’s caress down my thighs and then you’re guiding my legs around your waist.
Your forehead is upon my own, breaths rapidly meshing, I can feel your restraint. “Lea,” you breathlessly whisper against my lips. “Sweet beautiful Lea, allow me your love?” and then you thrust, slowly you withdraw, until only the very tip of you is inside me, out…”Allow me your soul?” in…deeply in…I gasp, my body arches from the floor, your eyes never leaving mine. “Allow me you forgiveness my love, grant me forgiveness.” tears? Tears my king? For me?
“I love you so much.” I whisper and then cup your cheek and swallow your gasp and groan as I impale myself on you. 
Our hearts beat as one, our bodies move as one, our souls dance as one, we come undone as one. 
 

***

Your lips are sweet against my own, your hands holding my face you spill kisses upon my face and I giggle, stupidly giggle like a girl and allow you your kisses. Something has changed, not drastically, but it has shifted and I know hope is ever growing in my heart as something else blooms in yours. 
“Mama?” I gasp and quickly push away from you as Fintan and Ciaran come through the tent. My heart races as Fintan looks from me and then to you, his eyes questioning trying to conclude something. I bite my lip as you kneel before them, you do not touch them, only stare and then you’re looking back at me, something akin to shock marring your features. 

“Yes love?” I avoid your gaze. 
He makes to ask something else and then as if realizing something he asks. “Why does this man look like me?” I bite my lip, my heart is throbbing. 
“Is he a relative? Is that why you were hugging him?” Ciaran innocently asks and the need to faint is powerful. 
“Not exactly.” You rise, your face devoid of emotion as you make to exit the tent.
 

“No Marik! Please…they are your sons!” I quickly blurt out.
“Yes, I know.” you pull your arm away and leave.
“Our father? Bu…but what about,
father
?” Ciaran asks, his eyes brimming with confusion and tears, so much like me. Fintan, Fintan grasps the situation with quickness no five year old boy should be able to have. 
“Let me explain?” Ciaran comes to me when I open my arms, Fintan however remains at a distance, and it hurts me more than I show.
“Your
father
is still your father. He loves you both so much but he is not your real father. Marik is.” 
“Is he the powerful king we have heard about?” I smile at Fintan’s inquiry.
“Yes, your real father the true Norian king.”
“Why did he leave us? Did he not want us, Mama?” 
“Oh my sweet boys. Had he known about you, he would’ve stayed and not gone. He would’ve loved you so much.”
“So you lied to him? You kept him from knowing us!” Fintan hurls the accusation only to turn with tears in his eyes and run from the tent.
“Finn!” 
“I still love you, Mama.” Ciaran says quietly, his small hands framing my face. “Finn loves you too he is just very sad and angry. I can feel it here.” he points to his chest. “I am sad too, but not angry. I think…I think the king is a very nice man.” He nods his dark head as if confirming it. “He helped me ride a horse.” Eyes, so identical to yours happily looks at me.
“It will be alright, Mama, you will see.” He kisses my cheek and stands.” I have to go and see if Finn is all right.” with that he too leaves and I sigh dejectedly. This is not how I wanted any of you to find out about each other.
 

***

All day you have gone and I cannot help wonder if this one incident took what bit of hope we had. I’ve learned from Somia that you’ve taken Fintan with you. I have no doubt that you will care for him, but my heart grows heavy with the idea of his pain. Ciaran has spent the day with me, his resilience and joy has eased me, but still my mind wanders to you and Fintan. Cairan sleeps now, exhausted from this eventful day.

The tread of boots alerts me to your presence and too soon you are standing in the tent once more, ever the formidable figure.
“Marik…”
“I have put him to sleep.” I nod and anxiously watch you move about.
“Do not think that I am angry with you, Lea.” you say quietly as you shrug out of your dark coat. “Anger has been the guiding force in my life for so long that I’ve grown weary of it. It has ravished the very core me to the point that I have hurt the only person who has ever truly loved me.” you come to sit in front of me and lean to plant a tender kiss on my forehead, a sigh escapes my lips. 
“I left because the shock of it was overwhelming…I’m a father, Lea!” you me into your embrace and hold me tight. 
“And not only do I have one son…but two! How did I not see Fintan’s uncanny resemblance to me, or Ciaran’s silver eyes?” you ask in wonderment, true, unguided happiness shining in your eyes.
“I am a father!” You crash into me with force that hurtles us onto the bedded furs. You’re laughter rings joyous, echoing it’s melody in my heart. “Thank you!” you’re babbling with pride and joy and I too am laughing, finally and truly laughing with gut wrenching mirth.
 

***

You throw your head back and laugh uproariously at something Ciaran says to you and you give a hearty clap on his back. Fintan is also by your side, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. They’re both huddled close to you by the roaring campfire attuned to practically every word you say. Everyone has gathered this night, laughter, merriment and dancing surrounds us as the villagers partake of the ale and food. 

How easily your sons have come to adore you, and how easily your hardened visage morphs when they are around you. It’s a lovely sight, a sight I have waited and prayed so long for. Fintan has taken such a grand liking to you, I find myself surprised and all together a bit sad. He has yet to come to me after all that has been revealed. He has not come to me in three days since everything has been revealed. 

I pray that he does not hold this grudge for long, for I would not take such heartbreak.
As joyous as I am to see you and our sons so content, my heart is unsettled, hurting for the third son that is not here, my little Liam. He may not have been ours, my king, but Liam is the part of me that remained so innocent. He is the most loving thing that has come from my union with Lucian and I ache for him so.

Does he miss me? Is he scared? Oh he must be scared! Lucian cannot care for him as I have. Liam needs me, his Mama! 
“Mama come dance with me!” I shake my head to dislodge my sadness and allow my gaze to wonder to a standing Ciaran, his face alight with mirth as Somia teaches him steps to an unknown dance. 
“I will watch.” I answer back with a strained smile.
“But I wish you to dance with me!” he pouts, drawing unnecessary attention and soon your piercing eyes are on me, a smirk on your lips.
“Yes, I wish you to dance also!” you’re teasing me! Incorrigible swine! 
I glare with a resolute shake of my head. “Don’t encourage him, Marik.” my face I am sure is quiet flushed as the eyes of many curiously look on. 
You laugh and stand. “A child always needs encouragement from his father.” you ruffle Ciaran’s dark locks as he smiles up at you. I also stand, wanting to disappear back to the tent. 
“I am not feeling well, Cia.” I lean down and kiss the top of his head. “But you stay with your father, and have a good time.” I make to walk to Fintan, but he turns away from me and I bite down my lip to keep from protesting. You see this, the smirk is no longer on your lips as you stare at me with concern, and I shake my head with a smile, and then abruptly spin around and flee.