Antares
[an TAH rez]
✮ sayyida ✮
▻ jyeshtha ♀ (x indira), aminah ♀ | nashira ♀ ◅
Had he even had half a brain, he’d have thought about how he sounded to her. He had always seen her as his personal equal, almost more important in private regards, but he had spoken thinking only of how Mira truly always had been a spiritual role and with only the weight of the people’s respect - which Rigel had once proven meant little to those who were of a royal mentality from the old worlds when they’d already had some power under their belts. What he should have said - one might as well not dwell on, and he certainly could not since he had no skill for the magics of their priests in mindreading.
He thinks she looks hurt, but he cannot differentiate it from the hurt he imagined she felt over his own pain written openly in his every cell in that moment. So he continues, asking her for permission to raise her from “second” and “queen” equivalence to being evenly yoked - Mira becoming a female Sheikh, a Queen without the halfstep down it was often treated with. His wife soothes him physically, tracing circles so that his mind stops whirling and whooshing past him in tangents and depreciating thoughts. Her voice speaks also her feelings in contrast to his feelings is soft in the morning hour, though roughened with recent sleep. Her words are not limited, however, and he can feel the gap in the air - not filling it with his voice because he could tell she would with more of hers.
"But I will give you the truth, I do not know of how to help you, my love. My own struggles to adjust have not come from a lack of desire, but from an ignorance to your whims. I find out our plans at the same time as the rest of the Hous and stand silent at your side as you negotiate an alliance with a Queen we do not know."
It is not a small thing for her to speak so robustly, for all that she seemed truly livewire with anxiety about saying it. He takes the licks she likely didn’t intend to give. She felt left behind, neutered of her purpose, and it had been his fault. First for having brothers too high on their position and knowledge to give her her dues - and for being so desperate for normalcy that he didn’t give her proper attention since his reclaiming his position as her husband. It was only too lucky that she had not chosen to call the Claim of Set against him, pitted him against some Champion to prove he remained worthy of being her Sheikh and Husband at all. He aches at the thought, her slowly roundening belly so much of a joy for him, such a stabilizing force for him, as it was.
She shakes her head, but continues softer this time, "I was alone for years, believing you to have either died or willfully abandoned me in Mahgrib. Then, the very day I decide that I will try to live again, to let the gods decide my fate... you reappear before me and explain the truth of all that transpired. And I was - I am - deliriously happy about such a thing, but it is no small thing to adjust to all of this- again."
She touches his cheek as his eyes stare weightedly to the earth, ashamed of himself and his family in such a new and fresh way that it felt like he deserved the misuse of the last few years at least. He aches in his chest, knowing that he is far more inept than the Miran officials had ever clued him in on. "I will learn to be whatever it is you need of me, so long as you are patient." He looks surprised at her, "I would wait till the earth beneath us turned to ash..." It is a reactionary response, but it is sincere
He almost slumps, if such a thing makes sense, as if some string that had kept him taut through even her cooling and calming evenings beside him. Strong for everyone, even in front of her, because he was terrified that if she knew how broken he was - how lost he felt - he wouldn’t deserve her any more. Soul Sewn had once been such an amazing title - but lately it felt as though he were a rock tied to her - good only to drown her in his miserable mistakes and idiocy. "I don’t mean that what you have done is insufficient-- I mean to say," He feels as though his mouth is dry but he had never once backed down from a difficulty "I mean..." He seems to try to puzzle out his purpose but he had never been great at articulating the inner workings of his head - much like a child who is smart but hasn’t ever taken the time to explain how his brain formulated his answers.
"I value your help in the comfort of our home, but I want anyone we deal with and anyone who lives with us-- I want them to see you and I as equal partners and to give you the same deference and come to you with the same assurance as they would me. I know we aren’t in Mira, nor Mahgrib, anymore… but I think I still tried to create this family again using the same fettered methods as we were raised to do, even while listening to your advice in the quiet of our private time together."
He could have deflated with the effort it was to admit that he was still so flawed as to believe in the very system of his abusers - or to still carry some of the one-man-showmanship that had been taught to him since birth. ‘You can ask opinions but ultimately you are alone’ had yet to get bled from his system and he feels the deficit of his rule only the more for it.
OF THE EASTERN DUNES OF SALEM
▻ eleven years - arabian - mulberry gray with bloodmarks - 15.2 hh ◅