You have blanket premission to post/send this story anywhere you want, as long as you leave it intact with my name on it.
**Warning - some, though limited in description, violence and an instance of love making of the hetrosexual variety is contained below. Small children and the easily insulted, play elsewhere. I also sent an adult version in which there is more nastiness for those who like it The Changing World
by L.B.
"Surya? Surya, are you down there?" Methos pushed aside the hangings and walked down the twisted steps, into the priestess' library. It was dark and cool to preserve the ancient scrolls and tablets, put he could smell the faint scent of Surya's perfume through the musty papers.
"Methos is that you? Come here, take a look at this." Surya lifted her eyes from the manuscript on the table, brushed the dust out of her black hair and waved him over.
"Actually there are other things I'd rather look at." He smiled wickedly at her. She grinned and tossed a peice of scrap paper at him. It was just like her, and damn the expense. He wagged a threatening finger.
"I'll get my revenge, you know." He navigated through the piles of clay and papyrus to look over Surya's shoulder. "What's this? Taken up the copyist's art?"
"Temple records . . . centuries old . . . they were going to be burned, and no wonder . . . take a look." Methos frowned and lay a hand on her shoulder.
"Surya, if this was meant for burning-" He began. It wasn't the first time she had stolen old records that the king and temple found humiliating. And he wondered where it would end.
"Oh, hush love, you sound like one of those old wet nurses at the temple. No one will know I have it. Burning this," she fingered the paper lovingly, "would be a horrid crime."
"Burning you would be worse, beloved." He took her hand and traced the fine textured skin. He could almost feel the delicacy of her pulse. Her mortality.
"As long as you burn, Methos, you belong to life." She put the documents aside and focused her dark eyes on him. He shivered delicately and continued to trace the lines of her fingers with his.
"As long as you live, Surya." He watched the words pass through her without rippling the surface. He wondered how long it would take her to find her fire.
"These are our history, Methos. To destroy them is surely sacrelige, when they could last so much longer than our lives." Methos smiled at her earnest expression. So young. He said as much.
"Oh, aren't we the ancient one? Have you any more great wisdom, Old Man?" She scoffed. He wondered, not for the first time if he should tell Surya the truth. How would she feel about sharing her blankets with someone ten times as old as her manuscripts?
His thoughts where interupted when she pulled her hand free. In a single graceful motion she rose and shrugged the gown from her shoulders, letting the linen pool at her feet. Then she took his hands and pulled them to her breasts.
"Enough, Methos. Come, I've been here for hours and my eyes need a rest." He smiled and she gave him a gentle shove. Off balance, he went down beneath her.
Together they became one creature of sweat and sound. The candle sputtered out unnoticed.
"Surya?" She lay against him and nuzzled his neck.
"Mhmmm." He stroked her sweat soaked hair, tangling his fingers in it.
"There's a new story teller in the market, come and we'll have wine and see the caravan from Khemet." He sounded so much like a boy begging for a treat that she laughed.
"I have work to finish, but - what's the harm?" She slipped off him and stretched out langourously.
"Is that a yes?" He looked up guilessly.
"Yes, loon! As long as you help me finish later. But I'll have to pass on the wine."
"Why? I can get a hold of the good stuff or even beer from the caravan."
"New rule." She gave a disgusted snort. "Public drinking is not befitting the solemness of the Goddess or something."
"Which Goddess is that? It doesn't sound like any I've heard of." He frowned.
"Things are changing . . . soon enough they'll be saying the Goddess wants us all to be virgins or some nonsense like that." Surya wrinkled her nose at the thought.
"Don't be ridiculous, that's- they wouldn't." Methos had never seen anything like that and hoped he never would.
"That's why it's important, Methos. Not to forget, not to burn records."
"I won't forget Surya. I swear." He promised solemnly.
***
Methos was rather pleased with himself. He had a beautiful lady on his arm and a gold in his pouch, not bad for a thousand year old brothel slave from down in Sumer. The he felt the prickle of another immortal intrude into his awareness.
"Surya could you get us a seat for the storyteller? I'll buy dates." She nodded and slipped into the crowd. Methos tried to find the other but the crowd pulsed around him.
Then he felt cold metal against his neck. "Slipping up some old friend." The voice was more amused then not, but it sent prickles down his spine.
"Hey Lillith, been a while. Mind pointing that somewhere else before someone gets hurt? Particularly me." The metal receded and he turned to face the older immortal.
"Getting careless, Methos. These are dangerous times for it." She frowned and then shrugged. "Of course you'll do what you'll do."
"Where you born old, annoying and cryptic or did you have to practice up for it?" He muttered.
"I wasn't born, I came full blown from the earth like a Minoan Goddess. You know that girl is going to get you into serious trouble. Come on let's buy dates." She grabbed his hand and he let himself be dragged after her, head whirling.
"Why do conversations with you always involve you saying random things and me standing around looking confused?" Methos demanded as Lillith fingered the date seller's wares.
"Because you're the student and I'm the teacher. How much?" She adressed the merchant and then settled into some haggling. The merchant had more than met his match.
"What do you know about Surya?" He asked as he followed in Lillith's wake.
"Why do you assume I know anything?" She laughed nastily.
"Maybe the fact you said my girl was going to get me into serious trouble?" He gritted his teeth.
"Did I say that? Imagine . . . me giving you advice on love." She tossed a date into her mouth. "Here, catch." He barely avoided dropping the package.
"Demoness." He muttered. She caught it.
"Where in the abyss did that rumour come from? I mean, do I look like a demoness? Act like one? Spew brimstone? No. My former mate spreads some nasty rumours after he abandons me for that golemn girl, and suddenly I'm a demoness." She paused, considering something. "They'll be calling me that for almost four thousand years."
"I'll play. What happens in four thousand years?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Oh, I die . . . or something. Why worry about that now? She's going to get you killed. With your luck she'll get you beheaded."
"Probably. Worth it though. Have you ever bedded a love Priestess?" He grinned.
"Lots of them. Love priests even. I think I was a priestess once. Not love - it was snakes or something. I'm not going to rescue you again."
"When did you rescue me?" He demanded. Snakes or something, that sounded about right.
"When haven't I? Remember the pretty boy you fell for down in Memphis? Would have taken your head as soon as your back was turned. And the Chi'in so called nun . . . now there's a laugh. Not to mention the time I rushed in and took out ten mortals in Anu's ziggurat to get you out before the priests decaptitated you. Which brings us to the point." She stopped and looked at him gravely.
"Let me guess, this is when you chew me out for showing up in Babylon only thirty years after they put a death sentence on my head. Oh - look - it's Nithi, the man King Urinn sentenced to death thirty years ago - the one the demoness carried off - hasn't changed a bit though." He paused, sighed. "Besides, everyone who remembers me is dead by now. And I've been avoiding court."
"Just tell me how you avoid court when you've got someone who goes by Surya the Rebel between your sheets, it's a trick I could use. That girl has more enemies then Timat." Suddenly in motion, she grabbed his hand and stalked toward the story teller's place.
"Actually just as many enemies as Timat." Methos confessed. Lillith groaned.
"It's never simple with you is it? You can't chase after someone nice and moderate? No, they're either crusading for good, truth, and the old deities or they're mass murdering bandit scum." They were almost to their destination. Surya stood up and waved to him.
"But you love me anyway, right." He gave his best wide eyed pleading look and didn't bother to ask what bandit scum she was talking about. Probably didn't want to know.
"Always." And then she melted away in the crowd, despite being tall and blond in a city full of the short and dark.
He sat down next to Surya, who caught him with her dark eyes and rested her head on his chest.
"Who was that? She was beautiful." She asked.
"A former teacher and a current friend." Beautiful? Maybe, if she lost the fear factor. Methos liked spice in his life, but there were limits. "And here I thought I was the love of your life." Surya reached her hand down his tunic and showed him without words just how much he was appreciated.
"Oh," She told him, "that's one way of putting it."
***
Methos groaned at the banging on the door. It was still full dark and he'd had a late night. He tossed around the bed and tried to cover his head with the blankets but the banging persisted. Then he realized the banging was accompanied by a persistant Buzzing. He pulled his sword from under the mattress and crept to the door.
"Methos are you in there?" Lillith's voice pierced the wood. He was tired. He wanted sleep. He let the door swing itself open and hid on the other side, prime position for a try at Lillith's white neck.
"Do borrow a phrase Methos, would you like to point that thing somewhere else?" Methos was vaguely suprised she didn't have her blade out, but she seemed to be carrying a bundle of some sort. Something . . .
"This had better be so good. Come in, pour me beer." He gestured her in, blade in hand. She looked around nervously at the white washed room. A pile of books, papers, and the bed were the only contents. Lillith looking nervous. End of the world, defintely.
"I seem to have found something." She began, but she was interrupted by the bundle. It started squalling and a tiny fist forced through the blanket's that held it.
"I can see that. Why?" He sat down abruptly when he realized. "Sweet Ninhursag, where did you get it?"
"It is a her. And I don't know." Lillith joined him, nearly collapsing on the bed. The pre-immortal baby quieted a little when she bounced it, but it, no she, sounded hungry.
"What do you mean 'I don't know'?" He said after a moment.
"I mean I was walking down the street minding my own business, in the broad daylight, no less. And next thing I know, I'm outside your door holding her." The baby opened wide golden eyes and focused on her surroundings, she promptly grabbed a strand of Lillith's hair and stuffed it into her mouth.
"So you got drunk, right?" He leaned in to look at the child. She grabbed his hair and pulled. Hard. Lillith grinned at his wince.
"She'll make a swordswoman. And I never get drunk, well not since people started playing with those sword things. They make me nervous." The two ancient immortals stared at the tiny baby, she spit out the hair. Her hungry wail got louder.
"Do you know a wet nurse or something?" Methos asked after a pause.
"Me? What for?" She gave him another slightly shell shocked look.
"Don't know. We need one . . . Surya! Maybe someone at the temple?" They exchanged glances and stood up, out the door like a Parthian arrow.
***
"It's a baby. In the middle of the night." Surya looked from one to the other, still trying to rub ink out of her fingers. "Is there something I should know?" She asked Methos pointedly.
"Hey, she's not mine. Lillith found her." He protested.
"Found? Another abandoned child . . . I suppose I could see if the temple needs foundlings." Surya looked at the child doubtfully.
"No! She's too young, she needs a wet nurse." Lillith put a protective arm around the child. Surya considered the child and her face softened a bit.
"She's beautiful. Eyes like the sun, where did you find her?" Lillith searched the young mortal's face then told her. "What an amazing thing. Tinat."
"What?" Methos muttered.
"Her name. It's Tinat." Surya pronounced. "I am barren, if you do not object she will be my daughter." Lillith stifled a protest. She had neither the energy nor the resources to raise a small child. A child who, like herself might attract hostile immortals.
"Tinat." Methos agreed, relieved. Of course he was, what would he do with a baby? And maybe it would keep Surya out of trouble.
"You can get a decree of adoption?" Lillith asked, arms still around the child.
"The heir is fond of me." She smiled at Methos' startled look, "Come you don't think I'm foolish enough to do my work without some unofficial protection?"
"Are you?" It was Lillith who replied.
"Hammurabbi cares for me. I'm grateful for it." Was all she said. Lillith might have said more but they were interrupted by the hollow clanging of bronze.
A detachment of the city guardsmen followed a wizened priest, at least fifty years old. "There they are! Nithi of Ur and that Demoness. Seize them." Methos swore under his breath. Lillith put the baby into Surya's arms and he promised an explanation, at her library. The priestess slipped into the temple.
"Who are you?" Methos pulled back, hands on his sword hilt.
"You blasphemer! Has this Demoness kept you young all these years?" The old priest's harsh breath wheezed into the air.
"I don't know what you mean? Who is this senile fool?" Lillith demanded of the guardsmen.
"This senile fool is the high priest of Anu! Seize them." The guards had swords at ready but Lillith and Methos were faster.
"Idiot. Didn't I warn you this would happen?" Lillith muttered as they fought back to back.
"I wasn't the one who just called the high priest a senile fool." Methos snickered and then hissed as a sword penetrated his guard.
"This is still your fault Methos, or should I say Nithi. Never argue theology with an Ammorite." They were out numbered but not outclassed. A bead of sweat trickled down Lillith's throat as her oppenent collpased in his own blood.
"That is not a legitmate proverb. And how was I to know they wouldn't take kindly to reasonable debate?" Methos tore through the armor of a guard.
"Reasonable debate doesn't usually involve telling someone their culture is so fundamentally flawed they couldn't even invent their own fake Gods." Now four against two, that was a bit fairer.
"You can't argue with the truth, besides they insulted my people's fake Gods." Three against two. Lillith pulled off a beautifully manuvered stop thrust. Make that two against two.
"Methos, you're an Akkaidian. They're exactly the same Gods." The immortals turned on the priest as one.
"See that proves my point." Methos shook the gore fom his sword and took a step toward the priest. "Remember the rusty nails you shoved through my hands? Good." He ran him through. Lillith frowned.
"What did you do that for? He couldn't have stopped us." The old man collapsed into a ball of dead meat.
"He was a sadist. Besides he would have written our descriptions into the temple records and we couldn't get near Babylon for centuries." He said practically.
"You're walking on dangerous ground old friend." She lay a gentle hand on his shoulder, he sighed.
"What do you think I'm going to do, run off and join a band of desert raiders?" He demanded.
"I'm just giving you the benfit of my age and wisdom. Has to be good for something. Anyway, Babylon still is not a good place for at least a decade." Someone else might have gotten a description. They couldn't prove anything from dead bodies, but still.
"I don't want to leave Surya. She's practically a ticking time bomb of idealism." Methos frowned. "And someone has to keep an eye on Tinat."
"Are you willing to tell Surya the truth?" Lillith asked gentely.
"I will. Come with me?" Methos said, rubbing sweat from his forehead.
"Sure, I found that baby. I'm going to make something of her." They slipped into the twisted streets, toward Surya's library.
***
"So Gilgamesh's quest was not without hope?" Surya took the news fairly well, despite the forbidden wine she'd poured from a flask behind one of her shelves.
"Not exactly. We're born as we are." Methos explained.
"Your sure she's safe?" Lillith demanded from a corner. Surya smiled.
"I found her a wet nurse and she's quite comfortable. I'll have the adoption declared by next festival." Lillith nodded and retreated into a comparison of stylus techniques.
"Will you come with us?" Methos asked, hope in his eyes.
"I love you Methos, but my work is here. Come back when this mess is over, I'll wait." She took his mouth with hers and he let himself melt into her.
"Ten years is a long time for a mortal." He said after he broke the kiss. "By then you might decide to marry or chose another mate." Hammurabbi, who was so fond of her and would be king, for one. She shook her head.
"I made my choices long ago. Until I can marry as a priestess of Timat rather than Ishtar, I will keep my hand. And fear not, I will have no one but you." Methos felt a sudden darkness in his spine and knew she would have no one. He pushed it aside as simple worry.
"I love you Surya. Ten, fifteen years. When it's safe, I'll be back." They kissed again. Lillith cleared her throat.
"Methos, they might not know your real name but they could still trace us here with a description." Methos stood and held Surya's black eyes with his hazel. They were luminous.
"You'll come back too Lillith, to see my Tinat." Surya whispered.
"I'll see her again. So will Methos, she has a great destiny ahead of her." The anceint promised. Then the two immortals gave Surya a parting hug and vanished into the lightening city. Surya would never forget her taste of true magic. And they had promised to return.
She paced among her forbidden books, then taking time to copy the speech she planned to make before the temple. In the King's court a mandate was being circulated to ban female scribes. So far it had little support, but in the future. . . she did not want to leave her daughter to the new world the was taking shape around her, so she would try harder to make a difference.
.