Ahdan

by Nikki Clarke

  "This is amazing. You are amazing," I say as I run a hand over an intricately woven vase. I can't even imagine the time that went into making such a piece.

  We keep moving and come to a long hall with several portraits lining the walls. I stop at the first one and pull back. It's a picture of two toddlers, one is blue-black, the other is golden.

  "You did this, too?"

  He nods. "I did. I was very fond of my younger brothers when they were born. They are my best friends."

  "Wait, so you did this when you were a kid?" my voice rises in astonishment. He would have only been like seven.

  "I did," he confirms like it's nothing. Like he didn't just reveal that he was a damn child prodigy.

  "Ah'dan, this is insane. What are you like a genius or something?"

  His cheeks pulse pink, and he lowers his head, rubbing a hand across his neck. "I was considered gifted, yes, but I do not consider myself anything special."

  "Yeah, okay." I snort and move along, looking at the next painting. There is one of his parents, smiling and beautiful. I still can't believe how good looking every single Lyqa is. I keep moving along the wall until I come to a series of images that are kind of the same. It's an image of a woman’s eyes. They are wide and open. Thick lashes fan up, giving the impression of innocence. The next painting is in the same style, but shows more of the face, a small round nose, lush lips. The bottom half of straight bangs hang over the eyes. I look down the line of remaining photos and realize they are all variations of the same face. I turn and arch a brow.

  "Ex?"

  "She is someone I am attached to."

  My eyebrows rise on their own. "Am?"

  He looks away then back. "It is difficult to explain."

  “Well, I guess I know what your family meant by needing a new muse. Obsess much?" I wave a hand at the series of canvases, and he pulses even more.

  "Attachments in Lyqa culture are very unique. It is difficult to understand." He continues to blush, but also looks a little pained, and I feel guilty for teasing him.

  "I'm just messing with you. I don't get jealous, don't worry."

  He seems uncomfortable, but nods.

  "Besides," I continue, "this work is too amazing not to be displayed. Even if it's of another girl," I murmur just to see him blush again. I laugh and hug him around the waist. "I'm kidding. I love you."

  "And I love you, saeh'ti. Now, do you trust me to paint you? I have been looking forward to the opportunity."

  I didn't lie about not getting jealous, but I can't help my eyes from widening in alarm, and, subconsciously, I lift a hand to my cheek. "You mean like paint my face or my whole body?"

  "I mean to paint whatever I wish. There is no part of you that does not deserve to be immortalized in any medium."

  I look back at the perfect face on the wall.

  "You are beautiful, Niya. Do not doubt this."

  His words banish the self-consciousness I'm feeling, and I shrug it off. "Sure, why not?”

  "So, what's the deal with the chick in the pictures?"

  Ah'dan took me to Amina's apartment then went off with his brothers. As I plop down onto the couch and lift the nearest baby onto my lap, Amina and Tiani avoid my gaze.

  "What chick?"

  "Mm hm, the chick. You know who I mean—Ah'dan's muse." I roll my eyes on the last word, and Tee snorts out a laugh.

  "You know, Lyqa relationships are kind of weird. It's not really easy to explain, but you should let him explain it to you. It's really not as big a deal as it seems."

  I frown, unconvinced by her explanation. "So, is he married or something? Am I like an unknowing mistress, and, more importantly, would you let me date a guy who you knew was married, damn?”

  "No!" Tee glares at me, clearly offended. "They aren't together, but you see how intense these dudes are. They love hard, like really hard, you know. It's just one of those things, but you don't have to worry about her. She’s definitely a non-factor."

  "Old news," Amina adds with a nod of her head. I narrow my eyes until she clears her throat and looks away. "Just don't worry about it, okay?"

  "I'm not worried about it." I'm not. I've spent every waking moment of the past two weeks with Ah'dan. If he was dipping out, I would know. But still, I don't want there to be this unspoken thing hanging over us.

  I’ll let it go for now. When Ah'dan wants to tell me what’s going on, I'm sure he will.

  AH'DAN

  “Will you tell her?”

  Kwarq and Bati both look on me with concern. I know they are happy for me as are my parents, but none of us can deny the knowledge looming over my relationship with Niya.

  “I do not know what to say,” I admit. Having found something as beautiful as what I share with her, I am reluctant to ruin it before it has had a chance to begin.

  “Humans have a variety of relationship types. From what I have seen of her, she appears very open-minded. Perhaps, she will not respond poorly,” Bati contends.

  “She will not respond poorly to the knowledge that I can never fully love her?” I give Bati a look that questions if he actually believes his assertion.

  “You can fully love her, brother. You can love her as much as you want,” Kwarq inserts.

  “I can love her more than my lehti? Could you? Could you love another more than you love Amina even if you wanted to?”

  His jaw tightens, but sympathy creases his eyes. “I could never love anyone more than I love my wife.”

  I nod. “So, you understand how I cannot face the woman, who in such a short time has become more important to me than I thought possible, and tell her that I cannot give her everything she deserves.”

  “You can give her enough, Ah’dan.” Kwarq argues, and I fix him with a resolute stare.

  “And, yet, she deserves it all.”

  Kwarq sighs in defeat. "I understand. How are you, otherwise? You seem different, tired."

  "I have noticed this as well," Bati adds.

  I am not surprised that my brothers are able to see what I have been concealing so well. When I awoke to the sharp pain in my chest, and Niya had asked if I was well, I said yes, but that was not completely true. Absently, I rub a hand over my First heart, and both of my brothers' gazes focus there.

  "My First heart has been uneasy, pained at times. I cannot sense any danger for Ze'lah, but it has been of concern."

  They both frown. Any disruption in one's First heart is troubling.

  "How long as this been going on?" Kwarq asks.

  I shrug. "Perhaps in the past month. In the rotations since she left, it has never been fully easy. For a time, I just thought it was the same heartache, but this is different."

  "Should you be concerned? Perhaps you should attempt to contact her."

  I dismiss the suggestion with a shake of my head. "No. I would know if she was in danger. She is there, her heart beats strongly. It is probably nothing."

  They look unsure but nod in agreement.

  "I am happy that you are here," Bati says with a clap on my shoulder. "And I am happy that Niya is here. She is good for you. I can tell."

  ***

  “Hey, you. Where’d you go? I thought we were going to the market.” Niya kisses the baby in her arms, one of Tee’s sons, and passes him back to his mother. My eyes rush to take in every part of her. I spent the night inside of her until the ache in my chest subsided, but still it feels as if it has been ages since I saw her.

  “I will take you now. I also wish to show you something.” I hold a hand out and lift her to her feet. She is dressed in a long tunic that slits up the side to show her shapely legs. The top fits to her small breasts by thin straps leaving her arms and shoulders bare. She has put her hair in dozens of finger sized twists that she pinned to one side so they hang at her shoulder. She has also applied an adornment to her face. It is a thin line above her lids that extends the length of her angular eyes and ends on a sharp point. I take in these small details and wish again that she were com
pletely mine.

  “You ready?” She looks innocently up at me, and I smile, pulling our joined hands up to press a kiss to hers.

  “I am.”

  “Ooh, this is what you gave me back home. This was good.”

  Niya lifts the sawa from the stand and holds it up. I nod, taking the fruit from her and collecting several more to go with it.

  “I will take these for her and anything else she may desire.” I scan my comm over the merchant’s sensor and wait while Niya peruses the other produce.

  “What’s this?” She holds up a small, red fruit.

  “That is kisi. I do not think you will like it. KJ found it quite distasteful.”

  She laughs, and the sound resonates across the market causing several Lyqa to turn to find its source. Niya has been so brave in her exploration of my home that she has barely noticed the respectful interest my kinsman has shown her. She smiles at every passing Lyqa. When she approaches a stall, she inspects the wares without reserve or judgement. She touches everything, but only after I assured her it was acceptable behavior to do so. Now, she runs her fingers over the spiked skin of a vegetable, and the motion is so unintentionally erotic that the vendor, a Lyqa male only slightly younger than I am, shifts uncomfortably. His scent tinges with his obvious attraction toward her.

  “Do you like ettri?” He holds up one of the oblong orbs.

  “Oh, I don't know. I haven't had one before. Should I try it?” Niya looks at me, and I nod my head. The vendor frowns in my direction, but not with unpleasantness. There is more curiosity in his gaze.

  “She is yours?” he asks in our language.

  “She is,” I reply calmly. There is no need for hostility, and I understand why he asks before he clarifies his question.

  “You are leht, but her heart is not bound to you,” he returns.

  “It is not. I am uncommitted.”

  His face drops in sympathy before he smiles kindly. “She is beautiful, and there are so many kinds of love.”

  I return his smile and dip my head.

  “This is for you,” he directs at Niya in English, holding out the ettri. “As a welcome gift. Enjoy Lyqa.”

  Niya smiles and accepts the vegetable, and I lead her away from the stall with a hand at her back.

  “He was nice,” she announces as we move toward the center of the market.

  “He had a very kind heart, yes. I am proud to say that this is a feature of my kind. You will not find much mean-spiritedness here.”

  Her eyebrows raise. “Yeah? A girl could get used to this.”

  I pause, causing her to stop also. She looks back in question.

  “Would you consider this, staying with me? I know it has not been long, but I could think of nothing better than having you with me.” I do not say "always" even though this is what I want.

  She seems stunned for a moment, and we stand facing each other as Lyqa move around us. It feels for me that we are suspended in the moment. Slowly, her eyes soften and she steps close, wrapping her arms around my waist.

  “God, I’m so in love with you. I don't know how it would work with my family on Earth, but I am really going to consider it if that’s what you want.”

  I close my arms around her, leaning down to press my cheek to her hair. “This is the only thing I want.”

  She leans back and smiles brightly, flashing her small, white teeth, and when she goes up on her toes, I meet her part of the way and press a searing, lingering kiss to her mouth. Regardless of the complications of my situation, I did not lie when I spoke to the vendor. She is mine.

  ***

  “Like this?”

  Niya tilts her head on an angle and looks across the expanse of tall, violet blooms that surround us. This was once my favorite place on Lyqa, but for a long time, it only held memories of pain for me. Now, sitting with Niya among the fragrant stalks and soft, thick grass, I feel the sense of calm and freedom I once felt when I visited here. She is perfect in this place—brown and soft. Her skin prisms light, and her tight curls blow in the mild breeze. When she cuts her eyes to watch me sketch, the sun renders them a warm amber.

  “You are beautiful.” I outline the curve of her jaw and the blunt point of her chin. Her mouth turns up, and a slight indent marks her cheek. I sketch that too. I want to capture all of her features, all of her expressions, all of who she is.

  “You say that a lot,” she says without breaking her pose.

  “I think it a lot.”

  “I’m not perfect, you know. I’ve seen your people. You guys are gorgeous. And while I’m not ugly by any means, I’m definitely not beautiful like you guys are.”

  I lower my charcoal block and regard her over the top of my drawing pad.

  “How do you mean?” There is an edge to my tone. I do not like that she does not realize that she is the most beautiful being in the Universe to me.

  “I don't know,” she shrugs. “I have flaws, like here.” She traces the hollow of her cheek where faint markings slightly darker than her skin tone are covered by the cosmetic she applies to her face.

  “And you think this makes you less beautiful?” I lower the pad to my lap, my concentration of a moment ago lost.

  “Maybe, kind of.”

  “Kind of,” I snort, and toss my pad and block aside. I will probably lose the latter in the reeds, but this is more important. I lean forward and take her wrist, pulling her toward me and onto my lap. When she is close, as she belongs, I take her face in my hands.

  “The only thing these markings mean to me is that you are alive, and your body has protected itself as it should, and that you are a complex organism. These things do not make you less beautiful. They make you divine; they make you of the vast mysteries that make up this Universe. You,” I hold her face steady so she cannot look away, “are the most beautiful being, human or otherwise, that I have ever beheld in my life. I would take the liberty now of requesting that you never suggest otherwise again. It offends me.”

  Her mouth folds in, and she seems like she is fighting some urge before she explodes with laughter. “You can't be offended by how I feel about myself.”

  I roll my eyes and lift her from my lap. “I can and I am. Now resume your position, so that I may complete my sketch. I would allow time to make love to you before the sun sets.”

  Her smile deepens, and she hurries to retake her position, adjusting herself as she was before. I retrieve my pad and, after some searching, my charcoal block and pick up at the indent in her cheek.

  “There is no one to hear you, saeh’ti, be loud.”

  I drive up into her body again, stroking along the underside of her clit in the way I know she enjoys. She gasps and sucks in a deep breath, holding it on a silent cry.

  “I can’t! It’s too much.” She pants and turns her face into my shoulder as I slow my hips to a lazy stroke. The sun has nearly set, and I have been enjoying her for hours. I lower my head and take one of the tightened peaks of her breasts into my mouth, suckling the taut flesh, and groaning around the sweet taste of her. She grips my hair as I continue, moving my attention to the other. I draw hard, marking her beautiful brown skin. I love these little bruises. At times, I get a glimpse of one from the top of her neckline, and it is all I can do not to take her where ever we are.

  “Ah’dan.”

  She moans my name softly as I resume my movements, my hips keeping a steady pace. I don't take her as forcefully as I normally do. Within the beauty of the field, I take her gently, but with purpose, wanting her to find her release in this place. I nuzzle into her neck, sucking the heated flesh and driving up with slightly more force. She gushes around my cock, the wetness easing my way, and starts to go, trembling and clutching at my back.

  “Come in me.”

  I lift up, looking down into her drowsy eyes, and inhale. She is not fertile now, but I do not know if she is aware of this. “Are you sure?”

  She nods, rubbing her hands up my chest and neck until she cradles my face. “I
want to feel you. I want to be full of you.”

  In a flurry of wild thrusts, I quickly reach my end. My cock spasms and begins to pump her full of my seed. It is a long and draining release that has me collapsing onto her when I am spent. We both breathe heavily, me pressing kisses onto her sweat-slicked neck, and her trailing her fingertips along the muscles of my back. Suddenly she stills. I lift to find her eyes wide with terror.

  “What is it saeh’ti? Is it my release—”

  She shakes her head frantically back and forth.

  “Some—something’s crawling up my leg!”

  “It’s not funny.”

  “It is somewhat humorous, Niya. For one who claimed she was unable to scream, you certainly did when that tiny insect touched you.”

  “Tiny!” Her brow furrows. “That thing was the size of my hand!”

  “It was a harmless beetle, but I can see why you would be alarmed. You must know that I would never allow anything to happen to you, yes?”

  We are walking back to my home. Niya’s hand is held firmly in mine as we stroll easily through the darkened, Lyqa streets.

  “I know. I really can't believe this all has happened—you, me, being here. It’s surreal. I keep feeling like I’m going to wake up and be back in my apartment by myself.”

  Her scent goes sad. It burns my nose, and makes my chest tighten with an answering emotion. “If this is a dream, I hope, Niya, to sleep for all of my existence.”

  Her lips curve into a slow smile, and she leans her head against my arm as we walk. “You’re so sweet. I’m really, really glad I opened my door that night.”

  When we reach my home, everyone has already come in for the day. My family is gathered in the dining area for the evening meal, and after a quick wash, Niya and I join them.

  “This is a very special dish I have prepared for you,” my mother announces as she sets down the platter. The wide, clay bowl is one that I made for her when I was barely in my primary education. Inside, steaming piles of kichi send a waft of spice into the air.