Claimed part 2: Priti Words
Mar. 28th, 2013 08:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
frogs_of_warLet me know if the clothes are too confusing. I was trying to put enough context in so everything made sense.
Title: Claimed, part 2: Priti words
Status: Complete
Genre: m/m, Along the Silk Road
Rating: R
Content: information among lies, wailing, a parley, a met gaze, gifts, impatience, a visitor, compliments, laughter, undressing, guests, a beautiful morning, justice, family
Length: about 3,300 words
Summary: Tanvir has been waiting to collect Priti. He just thought it would be easier.
Part 1
“Oh great Tanvir Sahib, lord of earth and sky.” Gurman fell to his knees and then lowered his face to the dirt. “If my master so wills, this one will grace my lord’s ears with news from the west that has just come into this one’s keeping.”
Tanvir would have preferred an uninterrupted meal, but such was not the life of a warlord. He scooped up meat and vegetables into the small flatbread. “Speak.”
“My lord, the wonderful Tanvir Sahib, master of heaven and sea, this one holds within his breast news that greatly concerns my great master.” Gurman glanced up. Tanvir waved his hand for him to continue. Gurman took forever to get to the point and flattered with bald faced lies as if Tanvir was a Raja in need of sycophants.
“My great master, lord of sand and air, this one’s ears have heard that a man to the west has evoked my lord’s name.”
Young Priti. Tanvir could almost taste him.
Gurman glanced from Tanvir’s balled up fist to his face. “This news had not yet graced my lord’s ears?”
Tanvir nodded to Zemar to toss Gurman some coins. Gurman might be annoying, but he was useful. Tanvir stood up. His men rose as well.
Minutes later they had broken their camp and were riding west. His stomach rumbled for lack of food, but before they stopped to rest and sup, he hoped be some hours closer to his long deferred desire.
—
Tanvir stopped with his men in the town nearest to where he’d met young Priti. The family was long gone, by the looks of their grazing pastures, but the town’s people needed to see him and know he followed through when anyone called for him by name. Zemar set up camp in the town square and before the meat began to sizzle over the fire, townsfolk appeared with news. The family had been gone some months, without their daughters. Tanvir let out the word that he didn’t care about the girls. They were safe with their new families.
Much of the wailing stopped, but not all.
He also discovered why young Priti had spoken his name. Tanvir would be back for justice, but Nayanprit came first.
—
Tanvir chose to seek out Priti’s mother’s family in the north, because that was where he would have gone to hide. Joban was a man of great wealth and power. His herds were vast. Not as vast so Tanvir’s own, but Tanvir couldn’t just ride in and take Priti as he would have done if Priti had been with only his parents.
He sent Dilraj and Arjan, his two dearest friends, with a chest of gold and a request to parley. They returned empty handed, which he’d expected. The next day, he sent them again with a bag of jewels. They returned again. The third day Tanvir went himself with lengths of silks in many bright shades.
Joban frown at him as they shared meat and salt. “You cannot buy my grandson.”
Tanvir dipped his head. “In that we are agreed.”
“Then why the gold and jewels?”
“Let me speak to him. If he wishes to come with me, I will take him. If he does not, I will leave without him.”
Joban lifted an eyebrow. “And never return?”
Tanvir forced himself to relax. “That remands to be seen.”
—
Tanvir followed Joban over the hill and into Joban’s home, which despite the portable buildings, was very much like a small city. This was how Tanvir wanted to live.
People bowed to Tanvir as he rode in, but one person met his gaze despite the desperate woman trying to pull the boy into a bow. Priti.
People moved aside as Tanvir hurried up the hill to him. Priti smiled. “I knew you would come for me.”
Tanvir slid off his horse and time stopped. Priti had grown even finer over the last few years. Poets would not be able to do him justice. And he looked at Tanvir with the same fearless gaze he’d used before he’d known Tanvir’s name. Fearless and attracted and beautiful.
Tanvir opened his satchel where he’d saved the best of his gifts for Priti. He fastened the heavy gold and onyx tiger necklace around Priti’s neck and then covered his wrists with bangles. The bright green length of silk, Tanvir wrapped around him. “Priti.”
Joban looked his grandson over. “You still wish to buy him.”
Priti grinned. “He does not need to buy me, for I am already his.”
He stepped against Tanvir, the spot he truly belonged.
Tanvir held him close. “I will take you with me and cover you in gold and silks.”
“Wait.” Joban said. “I will need some weeks to match your bride price.”
Priti was so close and Tanvir had waited so long. “I will trust you for it.”
“No.” Joban put his hand to his chest. “I will pay you in full, but I must sell a few of my herds. I will keep Priti until then.”
“I will take the herds.” Traveling with animals was slow work, but worth the effort to have Priti sooner.
Joban shook his head. “Gold for gold, ewe for ewe, kid for kid.”
Tanvir buried his face in Priti’s shoulder. Who would have dreamed that his generosity would be his downfall?
“Besides,” Priti’s mother put her hands on her hips. “He will need wedding clothes. He has nothing fine enough to match you.”
Tanvir straightened his shoulders. “He should not match me, but surpass me. I will send for my tailor and he can help make Priti a dozen outfits that will not shame you.”
Priti’s mother smiled. Joban clapped Tanvir on the back. “And until then you will stay with us.”
Tanvir had waited years. A few more weeks wouldn’t kill him.
—
During the day, Tanvir kept company with Joban and Priti’s father and sometimes even with Priti. The boy, now a young man, was graceful and agile and witty and smart and so very earnest. Every moment they were together made parting at night more difficult.
One night, two weeks into Tanvir’s torture, someone came to Tanvir’s tent as he readied for bed. Zemar raised his eyebrows and opened the flap. In stepped Priti, wearing only gauze, but the dim light and multiple layers of fabric concealed more than they exposed. Zemar slipped out, leaving Tanvir alone with his heart’s desire.
Priti floated toward Tanvir. “A star dropped from the sky. Do you suppose heaven misses you?”
Tanvir did not trust himself to touch the tantalizing flesh before him. If he lost himself, would Joban still let him leave with Priti?
Priti knelt before Tanvir’s chair and lifted Tanvir’s foot. “Flowers hide their heads as you walk by, ashamed that they will never have you beauty.”
Priti slipped the embroidered jutti off Tanvir’s foot. “The hills call for you to visit, so that you might favor them with your handsome grace.”
Priti bared Tanvir’s other foot and set the footwear aside. “And the wind chases away the clouds, so that the sun might look upon you.
“The valleys morn when you ride away.” He got to his knees and unfastened the top button of Tanvir’s achkan.
Tanvir’s took in a shaky breath. He shouldn’t allow Priti to undress him. Tanvir would certainly take advantage of the situation, which he couldn’t afford to do until he knew Joban’s wishes. But he didn’t trust himself to stop Priti either.
“And the birds sing of you loveliness.”
Tanvir yanked his eyes away from Priti’s slender fingers against his chest. “Do they, my love?”
“They do.” Priti spread the ackhan wide. “I hear them all the time. They sing of your deeds and valor and beauty and keep me company while you are gone. The clouds write your beauty against the sky.”
How much poetry had Priti been exposed to? How much would his pretty words mature once Tanvir read to him from the greats? Or once Tanvir had touched him for the first time?
Tanvir growled low in his throat. He wouldn’t survive the night.
Priti’s nimble fingers loosened the laces at the neck of Tanvir’s kurti. “The mountains cry out in anguish that you do not visit them.”
“I have not visited the mountains?”
“I listen to all the stories.” Priti tugged Tanvir to his feet. “And they say you seek out injustice from the sea to the river, through the dessert to the mountains. I haven’t heard of you ever going into the mountains.”
“Would you like to see the world from on high?” Tanvir had been dressed by Zemar since they were both fifteen, but never during any of those years had he felt so helpless or aroused.
“I don’t know.” Priti pushed the achkan off Tanvir’s shoulders and down his arms. “Your chest is as wide as the great river and your shoulders could be a mountain’s foundation.”
Priti must not have had much practice undressing anyone for the end of Tanvir’s achkan sleeves caught on his hands, but Tanvir decided not to help. Priti tugged on Tanvir’s left sleeve and loosened it. “In fact, city walls cry out that their foundations aren’t as sturdy as your handsome shoulders.”
Priti laid the ackhan across the chair. “Stones wish they could be as strong as the muscles on your chest. Oases appear in the dessert to tempt to you to unclothe, so they might behold your beauty.”
Priti slid his hands up the inside of Tanvir’s kurti, his tongue between his lips. Tanvir wished to taste that tongue and to feel those hands against his body. “They aren’t the only ones who wish to see me bare?”
“Of course not.” Priti tugged the kurti over Tanvir’s head. “The stars curse the roof that keeps you from their view.”
Tanvir pointed to the thin, unembroidered kurti Zemar had laid out. “I sleep in a nightshirt.”
“For shame.” Priti lifted the nightshirt and added it to Tanvir’s growing pile of discarded clothes. “The blankets want you against them with nothing between you.”
“Do they?”
Priti spread his hands across Tanvir’s chest. “They do and who could blame them?”
“Do you?”
Priti grinned and breathed against the base of Tanvir’s neck. “I understand them exactly.”
Without breaking their gaze, Priti slid his hands down to Tanvir’s waist. “The hills cry with joy that a boy born among them is the one to touch the fallen star. They will boast my praises although I really don’t deserve them.”
Priti reached his fingers under Tanvir’s waistline and pulled out the ends of the drawstring holding Tanvir’s shalwar up. Tanvir grabbed his hand. He wanted Priti’s fingers against ever inch of his skin, but his shalwar was the only thing keeping his straining rod from brushing his gentle lover. Once he had nothing holding him back, nothing would.
Zemar cleared his throat outside the gher. “Tanvir Sahib, I have spoken to Joban Sahib. If the young master is in his bed come morning, Joban Sahib says that he never left.”
“Thank you, Zemar.” Tanvir lifted Priti’s hand to his lips and kissed Priti’s palm. “You will be the death of me.”
Priti laughed. “A good death, I hope. With many more to come.”
Tanvir took possession of Priti’s mouth, which Priti gave with a willingness that shouldn’t have surprised Tanvir. He leaned back to get a good look at his lover.
Priti licked his lips and slid his hand down to Tanvir’s waist. “May I continue?”
“At your pleasure.”
Priti laughed again, a golden, magical sound. “The rains come, because the water longs to be near you.”
He unknotted the drawstring. “Each drop’s dearest wish is to be the water you wash in, to be rubbed against your skin.”
The cool night air against Tanvir’s heated flesh was not enough to soften him. Walking as far as the bedroll was painful, but if that’s where Priti wanted him, that’s where Tanvir wanted to be. Priti arranged the pillows around them; every brush of the gauze against Tanvir was fire as was every sizzling gaze of Priti’s eyes.
When Priti straddled Tanvir’s hips, the soft fabric between them was pure torture.
“How come all these hills and drops and clouds wish to touch me? Wouldn’t they also want to be touched?” He ran his finger along on edge of the gauze.
Priti leaned down. “The hills wish you to sleep upon them, the rivers wish you to wade through them, the dessert sand cannot get enough of the firmness of your skin.”
Tanvir smiled. “I could do without the sand.”
“But the sand cannot do without you.” Priti rubbed a finger against Tanvir’s nipple.
“But it has to. There is only one person I want within my private spaces.”
Priti grinned and licked his lips. “Caves cry out for you to spend your nights within them.”
Tanvir tugged Priti down and turned, so they lay side by side. “And do you? Want me to spend my nights within you?”
“Yes.” Priti pressed against Tanvir. “Yes.”
“But before I can, my love. I will need your help to get you out of this.” Tanvir tugged on the gauze.
Priti laughed. Tanvir lost what little control he still had. He would spend the evening seeing what other magical sounds Priti could make. Zemar would be back before dawn to make sure Priti was safely tucked into his own bed come morning.
—
Warm, laughter-filled nights helped the days pass more quickly. Priti’s mother insisted he have numerous kurti, each more heavily embroidered than the last, silk churidar, which both covered and showed off his fine legs, and decorated ackhan to keep him warm on chilly days, plus jutti to match each outfit. And she had five people doing nothing but embroidering coordinating saddle blankets. Priti would be dressed like a prince.
He deserved the finery, but why couldn’t Tanvir’s men done it on Tanvir’s time? He forced down his impatience. Over these weeks, Joban had grown friendly and Priti’s father might no longer hate him. An alliance with this powerful family in the north was good for his holdings and his future and a totally unexpected boon, for he would have made Priti his own even if the boy’s family were beggars.
Joban’s people had hung streamers everywhere and the small city that was Joban’s home had more than doubled in size with guests here for the celebration. By this time tomorrow, Priti would be his.
—
Tanvir woke late in the morning, head still groggy from the wine, with his beautiful bride tuck against his side. No more sneaking Priti back into his father’s gher at dawn. Priti would never again sleep anywhere but at Tanvir’s side. Tanvir’s hand slid down Priti’s soft skin. Priti smiled. “Husband mine.”
Tanvir moaned his pleasure at that statement. “Yes, my love.”
“I am the luckiest of all the creatures of earth, luckier than the birds of the air and the fish of the sea.”
“Are you?” Tanvir rubbed his face against Priti’s neck, breathing in his delicious scent.
“Yes, because I am the one you woke beside.”
“I am lucky as well.”
“Are you?”
“For the missing child that heaven morns is none other than my sweet husband.”
Priti laughed, which was a wonderful way to start any day.
—
Three months after his first visit, Tanvir and his men returned to the town Priti had lived near. Tanvir let Priti visit his sisters while his men gathered information. Manraj, the man who had dared accost Priti so many months before, was not far out of town drinking up another man’s hard earned living.
Just because a man had the power to take what didn’t belong to him, didn’t mean he should.
Tanvir and his men rode out with a few townsfolk to identify the innocent. He rode back at dusk. He had a bit of blood on his hair and on his clothes, but none of it was his. A few families invited him in for the night, but he had other plans. He pulled Priti up behind him on his horse and they rode out to the valley where they’d first met. Zemar had set up a perfect camp and the scent of food filled the air.
Tanvir discarded his clothes at the stream’s edge and stepped into the water. He turned back to the bank. “My love, what would you have done that first day, had I given you leave?”
Priti grinned. “Husband mine, do you really wish to know?”
Tanvir lifted his arms. Priti tossed his clothes aside and waded in.
—
Hours later, after Tanvir and Priti were warm and dry and well fed, Tanvir’s men returned with the late Manraj’s herds. Tomorrow Tanvir would go back to town and see who laid claim to Manraj’s wealth. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn of widows and orphans and probably a good many young women needing a large dowry to secure futures for themselves and their babes. Manraj was not a true man.
Priti blinked slowly in Tanvir’s arms as they sat near the fire. “The night winds call your name.”
“Is that what they’re doing?” Arjan laughed. “Maybe we follow the wrong man.”
Dilraj slapped his shoulder. “I’d rather follow a man the stars loved then one they hated.”
“The stars worship you.”
“They aren’t the only ones, are they, Nayanprit?” Dilraj tousled Priti’s hair.
Tanvir let him get away with it because Dilraj was his oldest friend and also because Priti had said he didn’t mind. The teasing made him feel more like part of the group. Tanvir wanted Priti to feel at home among the men that he’d be spending his life with.
“I can’t help my feelings for Tanvir. I think I’ve always known he existed. But I had to wait to meet him.”
“You met him too soon.” Arjan shaved a sliver of wood off what might become a tiger or elephant or lamb in his hands.
“I met him at the perfect time. That way I had something to long for.”
“As did I, my love.” Tanvir closed his eyes. As hard as the years waiting for Priti had been, seeing his goal and knowing the end was in sight was vastly superior to wandering in darkness. “With you as my prize, I could not be lead astray.”
“Did someone tempt you, husband mine?”
Arjan laughed. “Both men and women tried their hardest, but no one could compete with ‘you will still be handsome with your clothes on.’”
“And don’t forget,” Dilraj put his hand over his heart, “‘Many people must have been born ugly to make up for your beauty.’”
Priti tucked his face against Tanvir’s chest. “You were there.”
“All of us where.”
“Really? I only remember Zemar.”
Zemar brought Priti another blanket. “And that is only because I was covering up Tanvir Sahib’s handsome flesh.”
Priti nodded against Tanvir. Tanvir’s heart was warm and happy. As much as he loved Priti, he never expected him to fit in so well.
“My favorite part,” Zemar moved the empty dishes away from the group, “was his honesty.”
“I only tell the truth.”
“Of course, Priti Sahib. You see what we see, the Tanvir Sahib we love and follow, but you speak with the words of a poet. You are an asset to us and to Tanvir Sahib. We are glad you are with us.”
Priti looked up at the night sky and spoke of love and justice and strength and truth as they pertained to Tanvir and his men.
Tanvir held Priti close. He really was the luckiest man alive.
Title: Claimed, part 2: Priti words
Status: Complete
Genre: m/m, Along the Silk Road
Rating: R
Content: information among lies, wailing, a parley, a met gaze, gifts, impatience, a visitor, compliments, laughter, undressing, guests, a beautiful morning, justice, family
Length: about 3,300 words
Summary: Tanvir has been waiting to collect Priti. He just thought it would be easier.
Part 1
“Oh great Tanvir Sahib, lord of earth and sky.” Gurman fell to his knees and then lowered his face to the dirt. “If my master so wills, this one will grace my lord’s ears with news from the west that has just come into this one’s keeping.”
Tanvir would have preferred an uninterrupted meal, but such was not the life of a warlord. He scooped up meat and vegetables into the small flatbread. “Speak.”
“My lord, the wonderful Tanvir Sahib, master of heaven and sea, this one holds within his breast news that greatly concerns my great master.” Gurman glanced up. Tanvir waved his hand for him to continue. Gurman took forever to get to the point and flattered with bald faced lies as if Tanvir was a Raja in need of sycophants.
“My great master, lord of sand and air, this one’s ears have heard that a man to the west has evoked my lord’s name.”
Young Priti. Tanvir could almost taste him.
Gurman glanced from Tanvir’s balled up fist to his face. “This news had not yet graced my lord’s ears?”
Tanvir nodded to Zemar to toss Gurman some coins. Gurman might be annoying, but he was useful. Tanvir stood up. His men rose as well.
Minutes later they had broken their camp and were riding west. His stomach rumbled for lack of food, but before they stopped to rest and sup, he hoped be some hours closer to his long deferred desire.
—
Tanvir stopped with his men in the town nearest to where he’d met young Priti. The family was long gone, by the looks of their grazing pastures, but the town’s people needed to see him and know he followed through when anyone called for him by name. Zemar set up camp in the town square and before the meat began to sizzle over the fire, townsfolk appeared with news. The family had been gone some months, without their daughters. Tanvir let out the word that he didn’t care about the girls. They were safe with their new families.
Much of the wailing stopped, but not all.
He also discovered why young Priti had spoken his name. Tanvir would be back for justice, but Nayanprit came first.
—
Tanvir chose to seek out Priti’s mother’s family in the north, because that was where he would have gone to hide. Joban was a man of great wealth and power. His herds were vast. Not as vast so Tanvir’s own, but Tanvir couldn’t just ride in and take Priti as he would have done if Priti had been with only his parents.
He sent Dilraj and Arjan, his two dearest friends, with a chest of gold and a request to parley. They returned empty handed, which he’d expected. The next day, he sent them again with a bag of jewels. They returned again. The third day Tanvir went himself with lengths of silks in many bright shades.
Joban frown at him as they shared meat and salt. “You cannot buy my grandson.”
Tanvir dipped his head. “In that we are agreed.”
“Then why the gold and jewels?”
“Let me speak to him. If he wishes to come with me, I will take him. If he does not, I will leave without him.”
Joban lifted an eyebrow. “And never return?”
Tanvir forced himself to relax. “That remands to be seen.”
—
Tanvir followed Joban over the hill and into Joban’s home, which despite the portable buildings, was very much like a small city. This was how Tanvir wanted to live.
People bowed to Tanvir as he rode in, but one person met his gaze despite the desperate woman trying to pull the boy into a bow. Priti.
People moved aside as Tanvir hurried up the hill to him. Priti smiled. “I knew you would come for me.”
Tanvir slid off his horse and time stopped. Priti had grown even finer over the last few years. Poets would not be able to do him justice. And he looked at Tanvir with the same fearless gaze he’d used before he’d known Tanvir’s name. Fearless and attracted and beautiful.
Tanvir opened his satchel where he’d saved the best of his gifts for Priti. He fastened the heavy gold and onyx tiger necklace around Priti’s neck and then covered his wrists with bangles. The bright green length of silk, Tanvir wrapped around him. “Priti.”
Joban looked his grandson over. “You still wish to buy him.”
Priti grinned. “He does not need to buy me, for I am already his.”
He stepped against Tanvir, the spot he truly belonged.
Tanvir held him close. “I will take you with me and cover you in gold and silks.”
“Wait.” Joban said. “I will need some weeks to match your bride price.”
Priti was so close and Tanvir had waited so long. “I will trust you for it.”
“No.” Joban put his hand to his chest. “I will pay you in full, but I must sell a few of my herds. I will keep Priti until then.”
“I will take the herds.” Traveling with animals was slow work, but worth the effort to have Priti sooner.
Joban shook his head. “Gold for gold, ewe for ewe, kid for kid.”
Tanvir buried his face in Priti’s shoulder. Who would have dreamed that his generosity would be his downfall?
“Besides,” Priti’s mother put her hands on her hips. “He will need wedding clothes. He has nothing fine enough to match you.”
Tanvir straightened his shoulders. “He should not match me, but surpass me. I will send for my tailor and he can help make Priti a dozen outfits that will not shame you.”
Priti’s mother smiled. Joban clapped Tanvir on the back. “And until then you will stay with us.”
Tanvir had waited years. A few more weeks wouldn’t kill him.
—
During the day, Tanvir kept company with Joban and Priti’s father and sometimes even with Priti. The boy, now a young man, was graceful and agile and witty and smart and so very earnest. Every moment they were together made parting at night more difficult.
One night, two weeks into Tanvir’s torture, someone came to Tanvir’s tent as he readied for bed. Zemar raised his eyebrows and opened the flap. In stepped Priti, wearing only gauze, but the dim light and multiple layers of fabric concealed more than they exposed. Zemar slipped out, leaving Tanvir alone with his heart’s desire.
Priti floated toward Tanvir. “A star dropped from the sky. Do you suppose heaven misses you?”
Tanvir did not trust himself to touch the tantalizing flesh before him. If he lost himself, would Joban still let him leave with Priti?
Priti knelt before Tanvir’s chair and lifted Tanvir’s foot. “Flowers hide their heads as you walk by, ashamed that they will never have you beauty.”
Priti slipped the embroidered jutti off Tanvir’s foot. “The hills call for you to visit, so that you might favor them with your handsome grace.”
Priti bared Tanvir’s other foot and set the footwear aside. “And the wind chases away the clouds, so that the sun might look upon you.
“The valleys morn when you ride away.” He got to his knees and unfastened the top button of Tanvir’s achkan.
Tanvir’s took in a shaky breath. He shouldn’t allow Priti to undress him. Tanvir would certainly take advantage of the situation, which he couldn’t afford to do until he knew Joban’s wishes. But he didn’t trust himself to stop Priti either.
“And the birds sing of you loveliness.”
Tanvir yanked his eyes away from Priti’s slender fingers against his chest. “Do they, my love?”
“They do.” Priti spread the ackhan wide. “I hear them all the time. They sing of your deeds and valor and beauty and keep me company while you are gone. The clouds write your beauty against the sky.”
How much poetry had Priti been exposed to? How much would his pretty words mature once Tanvir read to him from the greats? Or once Tanvir had touched him for the first time?
Tanvir growled low in his throat. He wouldn’t survive the night.
Priti’s nimble fingers loosened the laces at the neck of Tanvir’s kurti. “The mountains cry out in anguish that you do not visit them.”
“I have not visited the mountains?”
“I listen to all the stories.” Priti tugged Tanvir to his feet. “And they say you seek out injustice from the sea to the river, through the dessert to the mountains. I haven’t heard of you ever going into the mountains.”
“Would you like to see the world from on high?” Tanvir had been dressed by Zemar since they were both fifteen, but never during any of those years had he felt so helpless or aroused.
“I don’t know.” Priti pushed the achkan off Tanvir’s shoulders and down his arms. “Your chest is as wide as the great river and your shoulders could be a mountain’s foundation.”
Priti must not have had much practice undressing anyone for the end of Tanvir’s achkan sleeves caught on his hands, but Tanvir decided not to help. Priti tugged on Tanvir’s left sleeve and loosened it. “In fact, city walls cry out that their foundations aren’t as sturdy as your handsome shoulders.”
Priti laid the ackhan across the chair. “Stones wish they could be as strong as the muscles on your chest. Oases appear in the dessert to tempt to you to unclothe, so they might behold your beauty.”
Priti slid his hands up the inside of Tanvir’s kurti, his tongue between his lips. Tanvir wished to taste that tongue and to feel those hands against his body. “They aren’t the only ones who wish to see me bare?”
“Of course not.” Priti tugged the kurti over Tanvir’s head. “The stars curse the roof that keeps you from their view.”
Tanvir pointed to the thin, unembroidered kurti Zemar had laid out. “I sleep in a nightshirt.”
“For shame.” Priti lifted the nightshirt and added it to Tanvir’s growing pile of discarded clothes. “The blankets want you against them with nothing between you.”
“Do they?”
Priti spread his hands across Tanvir’s chest. “They do and who could blame them?”
“Do you?”
Priti grinned and breathed against the base of Tanvir’s neck. “I understand them exactly.”
Without breaking their gaze, Priti slid his hands down to Tanvir’s waist. “The hills cry with joy that a boy born among them is the one to touch the fallen star. They will boast my praises although I really don’t deserve them.”
Priti reached his fingers under Tanvir’s waistline and pulled out the ends of the drawstring holding Tanvir’s shalwar up. Tanvir grabbed his hand. He wanted Priti’s fingers against ever inch of his skin, but his shalwar was the only thing keeping his straining rod from brushing his gentle lover. Once he had nothing holding him back, nothing would.
Zemar cleared his throat outside the gher. “Tanvir Sahib, I have spoken to Joban Sahib. If the young master is in his bed come morning, Joban Sahib says that he never left.”
“Thank you, Zemar.” Tanvir lifted Priti’s hand to his lips and kissed Priti’s palm. “You will be the death of me.”
Priti laughed. “A good death, I hope. With many more to come.”
Tanvir took possession of Priti’s mouth, which Priti gave with a willingness that shouldn’t have surprised Tanvir. He leaned back to get a good look at his lover.
Priti licked his lips and slid his hand down to Tanvir’s waist. “May I continue?”
“At your pleasure.”
Priti laughed again, a golden, magical sound. “The rains come, because the water longs to be near you.”
He unknotted the drawstring. “Each drop’s dearest wish is to be the water you wash in, to be rubbed against your skin.”
The cool night air against Tanvir’s heated flesh was not enough to soften him. Walking as far as the bedroll was painful, but if that’s where Priti wanted him, that’s where Tanvir wanted to be. Priti arranged the pillows around them; every brush of the gauze against Tanvir was fire as was every sizzling gaze of Priti’s eyes.
When Priti straddled Tanvir’s hips, the soft fabric between them was pure torture.
“How come all these hills and drops and clouds wish to touch me? Wouldn’t they also want to be touched?” He ran his finger along on edge of the gauze.
Priti leaned down. “The hills wish you to sleep upon them, the rivers wish you to wade through them, the dessert sand cannot get enough of the firmness of your skin.”
Tanvir smiled. “I could do without the sand.”
“But the sand cannot do without you.” Priti rubbed a finger against Tanvir’s nipple.
“But it has to. There is only one person I want within my private spaces.”
Priti grinned and licked his lips. “Caves cry out for you to spend your nights within them.”
Tanvir tugged Priti down and turned, so they lay side by side. “And do you? Want me to spend my nights within you?”
“Yes.” Priti pressed against Tanvir. “Yes.”
“But before I can, my love. I will need your help to get you out of this.” Tanvir tugged on the gauze.
Priti laughed. Tanvir lost what little control he still had. He would spend the evening seeing what other magical sounds Priti could make. Zemar would be back before dawn to make sure Priti was safely tucked into his own bed come morning.
—
Warm, laughter-filled nights helped the days pass more quickly. Priti’s mother insisted he have numerous kurti, each more heavily embroidered than the last, silk churidar, which both covered and showed off his fine legs, and decorated ackhan to keep him warm on chilly days, plus jutti to match each outfit. And she had five people doing nothing but embroidering coordinating saddle blankets. Priti would be dressed like a prince.
He deserved the finery, but why couldn’t Tanvir’s men done it on Tanvir’s time? He forced down his impatience. Over these weeks, Joban had grown friendly and Priti’s father might no longer hate him. An alliance with this powerful family in the north was good for his holdings and his future and a totally unexpected boon, for he would have made Priti his own even if the boy’s family were beggars.
Joban’s people had hung streamers everywhere and the small city that was Joban’s home had more than doubled in size with guests here for the celebration. By this time tomorrow, Priti would be his.
—
Tanvir woke late in the morning, head still groggy from the wine, with his beautiful bride tuck against his side. No more sneaking Priti back into his father’s gher at dawn. Priti would never again sleep anywhere but at Tanvir’s side. Tanvir’s hand slid down Priti’s soft skin. Priti smiled. “Husband mine.”
Tanvir moaned his pleasure at that statement. “Yes, my love.”
“I am the luckiest of all the creatures of earth, luckier than the birds of the air and the fish of the sea.”
“Are you?” Tanvir rubbed his face against Priti’s neck, breathing in his delicious scent.
“Yes, because I am the one you woke beside.”
“I am lucky as well.”
“Are you?”
“For the missing child that heaven morns is none other than my sweet husband.”
Priti laughed, which was a wonderful way to start any day.
—
Three months after his first visit, Tanvir and his men returned to the town Priti had lived near. Tanvir let Priti visit his sisters while his men gathered information. Manraj, the man who had dared accost Priti so many months before, was not far out of town drinking up another man’s hard earned living.
Just because a man had the power to take what didn’t belong to him, didn’t mean he should.
Tanvir and his men rode out with a few townsfolk to identify the innocent. He rode back at dusk. He had a bit of blood on his hair and on his clothes, but none of it was his. A few families invited him in for the night, but he had other plans. He pulled Priti up behind him on his horse and they rode out to the valley where they’d first met. Zemar had set up a perfect camp and the scent of food filled the air.
Tanvir discarded his clothes at the stream’s edge and stepped into the water. He turned back to the bank. “My love, what would you have done that first day, had I given you leave?”
Priti grinned. “Husband mine, do you really wish to know?”
Tanvir lifted his arms. Priti tossed his clothes aside and waded in.
—
Hours later, after Tanvir and Priti were warm and dry and well fed, Tanvir’s men returned with the late Manraj’s herds. Tomorrow Tanvir would go back to town and see who laid claim to Manraj’s wealth. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn of widows and orphans and probably a good many young women needing a large dowry to secure futures for themselves and their babes. Manraj was not a true man.
Priti blinked slowly in Tanvir’s arms as they sat near the fire. “The night winds call your name.”
“Is that what they’re doing?” Arjan laughed. “Maybe we follow the wrong man.”
Dilraj slapped his shoulder. “I’d rather follow a man the stars loved then one they hated.”
“The stars worship you.”
“They aren’t the only ones, are they, Nayanprit?” Dilraj tousled Priti’s hair.
Tanvir let him get away with it because Dilraj was his oldest friend and also because Priti had said he didn’t mind. The teasing made him feel more like part of the group. Tanvir wanted Priti to feel at home among the men that he’d be spending his life with.
“I can’t help my feelings for Tanvir. I think I’ve always known he existed. But I had to wait to meet him.”
“You met him too soon.” Arjan shaved a sliver of wood off what might become a tiger or elephant or lamb in his hands.
“I met him at the perfect time. That way I had something to long for.”
“As did I, my love.” Tanvir closed his eyes. As hard as the years waiting for Priti had been, seeing his goal and knowing the end was in sight was vastly superior to wandering in darkness. “With you as my prize, I could not be lead astray.”
“Did someone tempt you, husband mine?”
Arjan laughed. “Both men and women tried their hardest, but no one could compete with ‘you will still be handsome with your clothes on.’”
“And don’t forget,” Dilraj put his hand over his heart, “‘Many people must have been born ugly to make up for your beauty.’”
Priti tucked his face against Tanvir’s chest. “You were there.”
“All of us where.”
“Really? I only remember Zemar.”
Zemar brought Priti another blanket. “And that is only because I was covering up Tanvir Sahib’s handsome flesh.”
Priti nodded against Tanvir. Tanvir’s heart was warm and happy. As much as he loved Priti, he never expected him to fit in so well.
“My favorite part,” Zemar moved the empty dishes away from the group, “was his honesty.”
“I only tell the truth.”
“Of course, Priti Sahib. You see what we see, the Tanvir Sahib we love and follow, but you speak with the words of a poet. You are an asset to us and to Tanvir Sahib. We are glad you are with us.”
Priti looked up at the night sky and spoke of love and justice and strength and truth as they pertained to Tanvir and his men.
Tanvir held Priti close. He really was the luckiest man alive.
