Here with Me
I won't go
I won't sleep
I can't breathe
Until you're resting here with me
I won't leave
I can't hide
I cannot be
Until you're resting here with me
-Dido
Chronology: Tristan is 26. Raja is 16.
Raja walked to her room in somewhat of a daze.
“I’ll miss you,” he said, still not looking at her.
“What do you mean?” He must have heard already.
Now he laid his eyes on her. “You’re going back to
She was about to protest but he interrupted. “No, just go Raja.” He arose from his chair stiffly. “Just go.”
Raja stared at his back as he left the room without a backwards glance. He wanted her to go? Not even a word of resistance to the idea had left his lips. She squeezed the tears from her eyes. He doesn’t need me, she thought. Why else would he tell me to go?
----
Tristan closed his bedroom door and latched it. He looked around at the
living quarters that now felt foreign to him. The bed was cold and unfamiliar
as he sat down upon it. Raja was leaving him. He did not give her the chance
for her to say that she had not yet made up her mind. He couldn’t bear to hear
it, to have to wait for her decision. Instead, he had made it for her. He would
wait for her, as agonizing as it would be. His love would be gone for a year or
more. That is what Ziya – what the hell sort of name was that? – had said. He
seemed smug about it. Tristan could tell the man had been undressing Raja with
his eyes out in the courtyard. He wanted to smash the stranger’s face in. Of
course, he didn’t say that Raja was going to
Remorsefully, he pulled a small object he had been carrying around with him for the past two months from one of the pockets on the inside of his coat - the pockets that Raja had sewn in for him. He knew Raja’s finger would fit the ring perfectly. He knew her body like the palm of his hand. After that first night she had returned from her year long journey, he had told her he loved her. He had always, but that night was the first he had uttered the words to her, prompted by the announcement – a false one – that she had married a Grecian man.
“You won’t go back. You’ll stay with me here. When I’m a free man, we’ll marry.”
He remembered those words from that night. Weeks later when he had thought about it he’d realized...he would marry her. After he had served his time that was exactly what he wanted to do - the first thing. Calling her his lover seemed too trite for what they had, it wasn’t satisfying for him. Gods! How many lovers – he sneered at that – had he had? He wanted Raja to be his wife. He had said it aloud, and oddly, the word did not sound the least bit ridiculous. In fact, it fit just right. Ziya had even mistaken them for husband and wife. He never thought of himself as being marriage material; yet, here he was with a silver ring in his hand, with engraved words of both Sarmatian and Arabic.
Tristan wanted to be hand-fasted to her, give her the ring then. It was a Pagan ritual, and he knew she did not refer to herself as Pagan or the religion of her mother’s side of the family. And after he received his papers, they would make it official. But now...all that was impossible. She was leaving. If he gave her the ring, she would think it was a last ditch attempt to keep her here. But was he so selfish that he would deny her the chance of returning to her homeland?
There was a tightness in his chest, he felt as if a hand was tearing his heart out. He needed her, this he knew, perhaps even more so than her uncle needed her. Was Raja essential to her uncle’s being as she was to Tristan’s? But he could not bring himself to tell Raja that he needed her. Truly, truly, needed her. He would have to make do without her, until she returned. If she did return...to him.
----
After a somewhat uncomfortable feast with the knights and her uncle’s brethren, Raja had returned to her room. She had tried to make eye contact with Tristan during the meal, but he would not meet her eyes. He’d barely said a word the whole time. Her heart ached with the idea of being without him. After all they’d shared these past months – their bodies, hearts, souls...she could not leave him now. Then she would think of her uncle, she could not leave him either.
Raja sighed heavily and walked to Tristan’s room and tapped lightly. She didn’t wait for him to answer and opened the door to see him lying on his bed with his shoes on.
“Tristan?” He turned his head towards her and gave her a small smile. She went to lay next to him, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder, her hand over his heart. She breathed in the earthy scent of him, the smell easing the tension from her heart. But it was short lived.
“When do you leave?” Tristan asked.
Oh sweet, gods, he really did want her to leave. So easily letting her go. “My uncle leaves the morning after tomorrow. They must travel to the coast, which will take a couple of days; they should arrive the afternoon before the ship leaves.”
Tristan took notice of her obvious exclusion of her part in this.
Ask me to stay and I will stay with you, Tristan. Tell me you want me to. For if I ask you, I could not bear to hear your indecision.
Tristan sighed heavily. The words were on the tip of his tongue: Stay with me. The room remained silent, words were left unspoken. Raja moved to lay atop Tristan, gazing into his eyes. She caressed his cheeks, the markings of his tribe; she ran her fingertips over his beard, those bristly hairs flecked with grey that tickled her face when he kissed her. He closed his eyes when her soft fingers brushed over his eyelids, then his eyebrows, then pushing his brown hair away from his face. It was as if she were memorizing his face. Her lips grazed his, softly, then more urgently. He parted his lips, inviting her tongue to mate with his. The heat in their bodies rose, Tristan’s animalistic urges taking over as he turned Raja over so he was on top of her. His hands ran up her skirt, the calloused pads of his fingers and palm making their way up her toned silken skinned thighs.
Raja felt his erection against her hip, pressing ardently. Tristan abruptly pulled up, clothes came off until he was naked above her. He slid her boots off, then her skirt. She sat up so she could pull her blouse off. Their lovemaking was not rough, but insistent. Could this be the last time they would touch each other like this? They climaxed with suppressed ferocity, clamping onto each other for minutes after they were done. As they dozed, Tristan thought. A rueful smile played on his lips. That had been the first time they’d ever done anything less than chaste in this room, this bed.
Raja’s breathing became even. What a change. He could hardly sleep while she slept contentedly. Her breathing eventually lulled him to sleep.
Tristan watched as the ship left shore, further and further away until it was a mere speck on the horizon. He stepped into the sea, swimming out as far as he could, floating on his back, looking at the sky.
He opened his eyes when his body bumped against something. It took a moment for his vision to focus on the cloudy sky, raindrops splattered on his head that was already wet. He almost panicked; he had fallen asleep while floating in the water. How had he not drowned?
When he rose to tread water, he realized that the sea was supporting him. Hesitantly, he rose to his feet - he was walking on water. The only thing around him was miles and miles of water and...dead bodies. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the body he had collided with. The man’s eyes were open, lips blue.
But what truly chilled him to the bone was the fact that he knew this man. Ziya. It was Ziya. He took a step back and tripped over another body. It was another one of Ardeth’s medjai. All these bodies were Ardeth’s. The blood pounded in his ears, he scurried up and walked hurriedly between the bodies. Searching...searching...the blood left his face when he saw Ardeth’s body floating lifelessly.
No. This isn’t real.
Raja! This time he ran, zig zagging through the bodies, searching for his Raja. A primal cry of agony left his lips when he saw her – she was as lifeless as all the others, floating. He ran towards her, falling next to her body. He cradled her head in his hands, screaming incoherently. When his sobs died down he could only kiss her face lovingly, stroking her hair back.
He shut his eyes tightly, but then they snapped open when he heard a gurgling sound. He looked down at Raja to see dark water spurting out of her mouth. Her eye snapped open, grabbing his vision. She choked and sputtered, trying to speak. Tristan didn’t know what to do, he lifted her up, patting her back trying to get her to stop choking.
Raja grabbed hold of his arm, her eyes as wide as the moon. The sky opened then, pouring torrents of black rain that burned his skin.
“Stay with me, Raja!” he yelled over the harsh droplets of acidic water. “Stay with me!”
But he was losing her, the color drained from her face, and all around him the bodies began to sink into the water. He held her in a death grip when she began to fall beneath the surface.
“Stay with me!” he screamed.
She was as heavy as stone. He couldn’t hold her up. He wanted to sink with her but the water refused to give underneath him.
“Raja!”
Tristan awoke with a snap, his body drenched in sweat. His heart raced at a preternatural speed. He looked next to him, and his breathing slowed. Raja was still here. Next to him. He tasted salt water in his mouth and the room was filled with smells of the sea. He thought he was imagining it, but the smell, the taste was there. Tristan’s entire body shook with dread at his dream.
The ship had sunk, taking everyone aboard with it. Taking Raja with it.
He swallowed heavily and almost choked on his salty saliva. Carefully, so not to wake Raja, he slipped back into his clothes and went for a walk.
Tristan stood at the wall, staring out into the night. He held the silver ring between his fingers again, contemplating throwing it out into nowhere.
“Tristan?”
Tristan recognized the baritone of Ardeth’s voice. What was he doing out in the middle of the night? As restless as he?
The tall Egyptian came to a stop beside the scout, looking out into the night.
“What brings you out this late, Tristan?” Ardeth asked.
“I could ask the same of you,” he replied.
“Ah, yes,” Ardeth smiled. “Perhaps I was distracted by the glint of something in your fingers.”
Tristan realized he was still holding the ring in plain sight. Pointless in trying to hide it now. He set it on the rampart for Ardeth to see. Instead of just observing, Ardeth took it to hold between his thumb and forefinger, turning it in his hands to read the inscription.
“Tristan and Raja,” he read from the inside of the ring. “Mind, Body and Soul. One,” reading the inscription on the outer part of the ring. He smiled and set it back on the rampart. “Looks like only a certain woman’s finger could fit that.” He looked at Tristan inquiringly.
“I was,” Tristan cleared his throat, “going to ask at some time, but now...”
“But now what?” His black eyes bore into Tristan’s head.
Tristan finally met his eyes. Pained. “She’s leaving now. What’s the point?”
“Hmm. The decision you made for her.” There was an edge to his voice.
“I didn’t-”
“Did you not just tell her to go? Without even hearing her speak first?”
“I don’t want to keep her from seeing her homeland again,” Tristan defended.
“What makes you so sure that her homeland is more important than this land with you?”
Tristan shook his head.
“Tristan,” Ardeth sighed, “I have seen you and Raja’s relationship develop throughout the years. The bond between the two of you is deep. And judging by the inscription on that ring, I believe that you must think the same. You need her Tristan. Do you not?”
His nod was slight, but heavy with wanting. “I need her,” was his gruff whisper.
“And she needs you,” Ardeth told him. “I love Raja above all else in this world. She is more my daughter than niece. I will miss her dearly while I am away. But it will comfort me to know that she is here with you, and her brothers.”
“But she needs you, too. What if something happens to you while you are over there?” He thought of his dream.
“And what if something happens to me over there while she is with me?” Ardeth countered. “Anything could happen.”
“Do you not want her to go?” Tristan asked.
“I want her to be happy,” Ardeth said. “Think, Tristan. With your heart, not your head. I will see you in the morning.” He gave the scout a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and left.
----
Tristan had stood at the wall until he saw the sun begin to rise. He thought of his dream, the salty taste still lingered in his mouth. He thought of Raja, Raja and him. Ardeth was right, he needed her.
Tristan crept into his room where he had left Raja in the middle of the night. Her eyes fluttered opened, despite that he was walking quietly.
“Trissy?” she said sleepily.
He leaned down on the floor in front of her, ring clutched in his hand. He put his face near hers that rested on the pillow, struggling to find the right words.
“Raja.”
Her warm hand covered his fist that lay on the bed.
“I need,” his voice broke, “you to stay here with me.”
Raja’s eyes widened.
“I need you here,” he insisted. Slowly, he showed her the ring in his hand, placing it on the bed.
Without a word, she picked it up, reading the inscription. She looked at him questioningly.
“I was going to ask. Then this came up. I meant what I said that night about marrying you after I served my time.” He rushed on. “I thought we could be hand fasted for now, then make it official afterwards.”
“You want me to stay with you?” she breathed.
“I love you, Raja. I don’t want to take you away from your chance of going
back to
“Put it on my finger,” she said.
His heart stopped. “You will?” he swallowed a harsh lump in his throat.
“Yes.”
He knew it, the ring fit perfectly.
----
Later that afternoon, the news spread about their engagement. Neither one of them were much for big celebrations, they said their vows at their place in the forest. His brothers in attendance, along with Vanora, ripe with her and Bors’ fourth child. Although Ardeth was not Pagan, he was the sanction of the ceremony.
A meal was put together, and they ate heartily. Raja spent the evening talking with her uncle.
“I am leaving some things here with you,” he told her. He referred to the
papers on his desk. “These are deeds to the land in
“What land?” Raja asked.
“The village. When I die, the land I own is yours. Just in case something happens
to me, you will have the deed, should you ever return to
“Can’t you stay?” she pleaded, a tear falling down her cheek.
“Oh, Raja,” he said tenderly. He got up and embraced her. “This is difficult, I know. But you have family here, Tristan is here.”
“I know,” she sobbed, “but I haven’t been without you.”
Her uncle let her cry in his arms. They would say their goodbyes again in the morning.
----
The other knights having known Ardeth for so long, arose from their beds at the early hour to see him off. Odin stood nearby, Horus perched on his head, their normal noises of play now quelled. It was still dark out, and chilly.
They looked on as Raja clung to her uncle, tears falling down her cheeks with no shame. Finally, they parted, and when they did, Tristan stepped forward and held Raja to him. Ardeth nodded at him in respect.
The Egyptian mounted his horse. “My friends, I hope you see you again..” Then he said something to Raja in Arabic that made her cry a bit harder.
She stood there in the courtyard in Tristan’s embrace for almost a half hour after her uncle and his men had left. When her cries died down he carried her back to their room. Still so early, they could stay in bed for a good time. She cried herself to sleep in Tristan’s arms.
He would take care of her, hopefully as well as Ardeth had. She was his wife in all purposes. He is the one that asked her to stay. She had said yes because she needed him as much as he did her. How odd that his life had come to this point. And in the years to come he would most likely be thinking the same thing.
He felt the familiar finger twirling his hair, the familiar smell of meadowsweet wafting from her person. And the familiar feeling of love that was forever embedded in his heart.