Beloved of Ashura: Learning to Fly

"Rayven, were you ..." Isana trailed off, not sure how to say it.

"Yes, little Dove, I was. I watched you take your first breath; and I held her hand as she took her last," Rayven said in a voice that shook. The emotions of that moment were alive in her. She felt tears fall from her eyes all over again, though she swore many years ago to stop shedding them for this loss.

Hugging her tighter still, Isana lifted up her leg and placed it on top of Rayven. Just as Rayven had held and rocked her the night before, she returned the favor now. She held the older woman for a long time as she softly sobbed, until it gradually faded away.

"Thank you, little Dove," Rayven said at last.

"Of course, Rayven, any time," she replied.

Once again, they lay there in the dark, not saying anything. A question began to form in Isana's mind but it was another one that she didn't know how to ask. She rested against Rayven like that, as the curiosity grew. The tension in her slowly built until Rayven could feel it too.

"Because he told me to, little Dove. That was the only reason I would leave. I would have stayed to protect you too, but your father told me that my time as his champion was done. He offered me a command of a troop of warriors, but I turned him down. It wasn't right for me," she said before pausing to look at her. The growing moonlight faintly lit both of their faces. "I told him, before I left that if he ever needed me to protect you, I would come. And I did."

"For her," Isana breathed softly.

"No, my little Dove, for you. Your mother lives with the gods, and does not worry about this world, but you are here and alive, and somehow I knew the day would come when you needed that protection."

There was a feeling of being cared for that Isana had never felt before. It made her respond in ways that confused her, going beyond the sexual feelings of earlier. She had never lacked for confidence before, but she had never known such a powerful and capable person before. More than anything, she couldn't explain the feeling that came over her when Rayven called her "my little Dove."

"Now, it's time for us to sleep. We need to be here in the present. Tomorrow won't be as hard as today, but we still need our rest," Rayven said softly.

As much as she wanted to keep talking, it didn't occur to Isana to argue. She closed her eyes and snuggled against Rayven, trying to find the best spot. When she finally found it, she sighed with contentment.

"Goodnight, Rayven," she said as a yawn caught her.

"Sleep well, my little Dove," came the reply.

It did not take long for either of them to fall asleep.

The next morning came sooner than either of them liked, but they got up and broke camp quickly. For Rayven, it was with an ease that came from years of doing it. For Isana, it came from listening carefully to her instructions and then carrying them out to the letter.

The route they took today was not a straight one. Distance was not Rayven's goal. It was to leave as little trace as possible, traveling on hard rock and in streams. Some of the time, she had them walk while one of the horses dragged a branch behind them.

The more leisurely pace left them with more time to talk. While not forgotten, Isana steered away from the topic of last night. It had touched a raw nerve in Rayven. That was enough of a reason to leave it alone.

Rayven allowed them to stop early that day. They were well away from the castle and there was no sign of pursuit. After the stresses of the last two days, on both them and the horses, she felt like it was safe. They spent more time taking care of the horses, brushing them down and checking their hooves. They were doing pretty well considering the miles they had ridden.

Finally, they got out some food and made a dinner. They sat on a log as they ate.

Isana looked beside her at Rayven.

"What?" she said, noticing the attention.

"Eventually, we will meet other people, right?" Isana asked.

"Of course," Rayven replied.

"It's easy to tell people what you are. A soldier of fortune, a bodyguard, a ranger; all of those make sense for you, but what about me? How do we explain an Onjani woman traveling with a younger Kantari one?" Isana wanted to know.

My plan was to tell them that you are my servant," Rayven started to say.

"Why would a wildling like me be a servant?" Isana interrupted. "From what I know of my homeland, it doesn't seem likely." She looked more intently at Rayven. "It would be more believable if I was your slave, captured in some fight."

Rayven regarded her for a few moments without speaking. Thoughts were going through her mind faster than she thought possible. "She has no way of knowing my past; what happened after her mother died," she told herself. The paths down which she walked since them were ones she kept secret. She wasn't the same young woman that fell so deeply in love all those years ago. There were things about herself that she only discovered while recovering from the loss.

The silence dragged on longer than it should have. Finally she spoke. "That would explain it. Down south, a Kantari will serve someone who defeats her. That has honor. Being paid to serve, that has no honor."

Isana looked pleased that Rayven approved of her idea. So far, she did little to help with her escape. It felt good to do something that would make them both safer. In the back of her mind, something else pleased her about the idea but she didn't examine it. It unnerved her. A slight excitement ran through her, betrayed by the way she shivered. "I wish I could be as calm as Rayven," she thought.

In reality, Rayven just did a better job of hiding the turmoil inside her. While it wasn't that long since she laid another woman, it was a while since one called her Mistress and meant it in its full sense. Even more than when the young woman clung to her as they fell asleep, she felt the pull of just how desirable Isana was. Even though it would only be a disguise, having Isana call her Mistress would make it all the worse.

"She's right, though. It's the best explanation; the one least likely to be challenged," she thought. The temptation to take advantage of it would be there, she knew. Shaking her head slightly, her thought was firm. "Then resist it! It's my responsibility to take care of her and protect her, even from myself."

Rayven looked intently at Isana. "You would have to behave like my slave, my little Dove," she said.

"I know."

"I'd have to treat you like my slave."

"I know that too." Isana said in a much softer tone. She felt her body tingling, though she did not understand why.

Looking at the plates and cups, Rayven abruptly said, "Go clean up dinner." Her tone was much more brusque than normal.

Isana blinked a little at the sudden change. There was also an unbidden thought that no one commanded her this way, just telling her to do chores. She blushed as she realized how meaningless being a princess was just now, especially as Rayven saved her from a horrible fate. "All right," she said, and started to get up.

"No," Rayven said. "That's not right. You say, 'Yes, Mistress.'"

"Oh," Isana said. That same part of her rebelled slightly at calling anyone an honorific while she was unacknowledged, and yet she did what was necessary for both of their protection. "Yes, Mistress," she said, and then got up. There was a faint little quiver as she said the word for the first time, and once again, her body tingled.

Reaching down, she grabbed both of their plates. A few crumbs tumbled off the plates and landed on the ground. Rayven looked at her. "Don't be so careless, slave," she said harshly. "Those little pieces could betray us. Pick them up."

Once again, Isana felt polar opposite reactions. She did what she wanted and how she wanted for her whole life. Having someone order her about and criticize her was a new experience, and not one that she liked. At the same time, it seemed natural to obey Rayven. She had such a commanding presence and Isana wanted her approval. "More than just want," she thought. It seemed incredibly important to her.

After hesitating for a moment, she knelt and carefully picked up every bit of food that she could find. She went over to the small basin, making sure not to spill anything else. She poured a little bit of water with some soap and washed the plates. This was another new thing for her. The feeling of Rayven's eyes helped her to avoid thinking about that. "I can do this. I can make her proud of me," she thought. "I'll show her that I can play the role of a slave and hide the princess."

Using her fingers, she wiped off the food and started to pull the plates out. About to turn around and flash a pleased smile at Rayven, she noticed that there was still a bit of food clinging to the plates. Sighing a little, she dropped them back into the water and used her nails to help get off everything. Finally, when she was convinced that Rayven would be pleased, she pulled them out and set them down to dry.

Turning around, she saw Rayven smiling at her. "Good job, Dove, but you have to rinse them with some clean water. We don't want soap in our food tomorrow," she said. This time, her voice was the normal gentle one. Isana blushed a dark red, although the fading light helped hide it. "That didn't even occur to me," she thought. She nodded and turned around to obey. It didn't take long. Rayven showed her how to take the dirty water a little ways outside the camp and pour it in a small hole that she then filled.

As Isana watched her, she realized how much Rayven knew about living in the wilderness. That knowledge helped her to feel safer. "I am so very fortunate. Father may not be a wise King, but he was wise in picking her," she thought. She knew there were other aspects of his choice that he might not appreciate.

For the rest of the evening, Rayven ordered her around in order to test her reactions and responses. Each time that she forgot to say Mistress, Rayven reprimanded her. She didn't use her normal soft voice that felt so comforting. It was harsh and at times made Isana feel as if she was an idiot even though she knew it was part of the disguise. She couldn't help feeling a little angry back. After all, she was a princess. Not even her father tried to command her like this.

"I'm being stupid," she thought as she curried Rayven's horse. "She just wants me to learn how to play my part." She looked over at the older woman who was checking their supplies. "I need to do better. I want her to be proud of me." It felt good to receive her praise. The one time that she completed a task without anything to criticize including her responses, Rayven dropped back into her normal self and gave her a hug and some soft words of encouragement. Now thinking back on it, she blushed as she remembered how she tingled all over and most strongly in her private places.

The moon was just visible over the horizon and the last traces of dusk faded away. "That's good enough, Dove," Rayven said. "Time for bed."

"Yes, Mistress," she replied. She gave the horse a couple more strokes and then patted him on the neck. As she walked back over to the shelter, she realized how much she smelled of horses now. "I feel so dirty," she thought. "Rayven," she started to say to herself, but then stopped. "Mistress probably won't be able to stand the smell of me." The thought bothered her. Even after only a couple of nights, she felt like she needed the comfort of Rayven holding her to go to sleep. The fear of losing that seemed to overtake her. "I don't understand," she thought to herself. "I feel like I'm going to cry." She tried to keep her face impassive, not wanting to show Rayven this weakness.

"In bed, my little Dove," Rayven said. The voice that Isana was so used to was back. While the younger woman got into her bedroll, Rayven made one last check around the camp to make sure nothing was out to attract animals. She already did her mental check that no person was anywhere close. Tonight, she felt safe enough to get a good night's sleep. She couldn't go on like that for too many days. She needed to be at full strength.

Slipping into her own bedroll, she glanced over at Isana. She was on her side, looking back. Her big blue eyes glistened in the moonlight. Rayven smiled at her. "Do you need to be held, little Dove?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress," Isana said in a little voice.

More than anytime that evening, Rayven felt the power of the words. The younger woman only had on her undergarments now, and she could see the top of her breasts pushing out from under her top. Even with the tattoos, her face was beautiful. "Goddess, help me," Rayven thought, though it was a foolish prayer. She knew her goddess too well to think that she would help her to avoid giving into temptation. "She's waiting for me to fail," she told herself. She pushed away memories of other times when a woman called her Mistress and there was no need to restrain herself. Smiling reassuringly, she opened up her arms. "Come here then, Dove," she said softly.

Isana instantly moved over into the embrace and hugged her. "Thank you, Ray ... Mistress," she whispered, even as she tensed for the reprimand from her little slip up. No harsh words came however. Instead, she just felt the comforting embrace of strong arms around her.

"You're welcome, my little Dove," Rayven said.

Fortunately, for both of them, it was the end of another long day. While the closeness caused some fleeting disturbing thoughts, their exhaustion was too strong. Soon they both fell into a slumber that was uninterrupted through the night.

The next day was much like the previous one, although Rayven focused a little more on getting more distance between them and the castle. They headed off in a somewhat different direction than the day before so it was impossible for Isana to figure out their ultimate destination.

Their conversation was a continuation from the night before. Rayven did her best to upset Isana's slave persona. For the most part, she didn't have much success. Despite the different gambits she tried, the young woman managed to maintain her composure and react in a servile manner. Even when she slipped up, Isana caught herself before Rayven even had a chance to correct her, although that didn't spare her a reprimand. Each time, she dedicated herself to doing better and making Rayven proud of her.

At midday, they paused in the shade of a copse of trees for a quick lunch. As she slowly ate her dried meat and waybread, Rayven observed her young charge. When they stopped, Isana immediately went about the task of preparing the meal without her even saying anything. She carefully got Rayven's food together first and served her, making sure to find out what she wanted to drink. Only after she finished taking care of her, did Isana make anything for herself.

"Well done, little Dove. You have the makings of a fine slave in you," she said with a laugh.

"Thank you, Mistress. That is what I desire the most," Isana said with a bowed head. The angle helped hide the slight smile on her lips.

"The problem isn't with your attitude. Most of the time, you do fine with that, although you still need to work on it. It is another aspect of our story that worries me now. You speak Kantari almost like I do, like an Onjani. The Kantari raised in the Kingdom have lost the way of speaking like those from your homeland. And your Onjani is as good as mine. No one would believe that you are someone captured there," Rayven said. "Your voice will betray you."

"Oh, you're right. I never thought of that," Isana replied. She thought about the visits of Kantari from deep in their homeland. Their speech always seemed harsh and more guttural. The women sounded that way too, even when they had the softest of voices. At times, she struggled to understand them. It was worse when they spoke the singsong sounding Onjani.

"You've heard them, I see," Rayven said. "For the rest of the day, we will speak Onjani but you must try to speak like they do. Use an accent. Don't worry if it feels forced and exaggerated. Most Onjani will find it just fits in with their image of the Kantari savages. Try it."

Isana thought for a few moments, and then spoke. "Thank you for the guidance, Mistress," she said. Each syllable was hard and ended with a guttural stop. It sounded more like, "Thenkk ya fur da geeedunkce, Mestrass." It felt so unnatural and Isana found it hard to say.

"Don't say guidance, Dove. You speak too much like an educated woman. Say teaching instead."

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you for the teaching," Isana said, still in that hard guttural accent. It sounded odd to her ears.

"Better. Now keep it up, and don't drop it," Rayven told her. "Remember our lives may depend upon this."

Despite the warning, it was difficult for Isana to get it right. She slipped up with the accent far more than with her slave persona. The afternoon was full of Rayven's sharply spoken corrections, whether it was for her word choices or losing the accent. She slowly got better as the sun went down and the shadows lengthened, but Rayven continued to worry that it wouldn't be good enough.

She also worried about potential followers. Several times, they paused so that she could look back to search for anyone behind them. While she didn't catch any sign, she knew that no matter how well she attempted to hide their trail, the best trackers might still be able to follow them. Travelling with four horses could never be completely free of traces.

For the most part, focusing on correcting Isana's disguise helped her to avoid perilous thoughts. She concentrated more on how the words were said than what was said, allowing her to ignore being addressed as Mistress. She could ignore Isana submissiveness, although that seemed to becoming second nature to her even if she occasionally still slipped up how she expressed it.

It was a warm day and Isana took advantage of it when Rayven could not because of her leather armor. She loosened the laces in her shirt to allow more airflow. Rayven couldn't help notice that the tops of her small but perfectly shaped breasts now were very visible. She studiously tried to ignore them, but there were times when Isana moved while talking to her and they rose up to show the edges of her undergarment. At those moments, even though she knew she should look away, the other side of her took over. She realized it was wrong, but being repeatedly called Mistress stirred up old habits.

Most of the time, Isana didn't see it. Chatting away, she concentrated on getting the pronunciation right and trying to make it feel natural. Late in the afternoon, she finally noticed. She glanced at Rayven and found her staring. It only took a moment or two for her to realize what caught her attention. Isana felt her face blaze as Rayven continued to look, even though she knew she was caught. Slowly, she looked up into Isana's eyes. There wasn't the slightest hint of being embarrassed.

For the first time, Isana felt the full power of her protector's personality. The calm strength in her was now amplified by her recognition of her right to be in charge. All her life, Isana was the one who ordered others around. Now she trembled inside with the realization that she didn't just accept Rayven's position, she wanted it. Her face burned an even brighter shade of red as she felt ashamed by the thought. "I'm a princess," she told herself. "Why is she affecting me like this?"

She looked down, anxious to avoid seeing Rayven's eyes. They were part of the power that emanated from her. It was if they could see into her soul, and know what her darkest thoughts were. Even as she looked away, she caught a slight amused smile on her face that seemed to confirm how insightful Rayven was.