Red Blooms, semi-closed for Marie and Rhovan, PM to apply

[Marie Lavallois]

This is a semi-closed thread for Marie Lavallois and Rhovan. PM one of us if you are interested in joining.

*****

Red Blooms

Mother sat in front of a pile of red blooms that had been brought in from the fields surrounding the house. Her rough hands expertly sliced the seedpods with a short, curved knife. A twist of her wrist brought the ball of hash onto the plain wooden table.

The thud of Father’s boots announced his entrance. “Marpessa returns today,” he said.

“Yes, I know! I’ve missed her these last eight years, but the opportunity to send her to school was too precious to pass up.”

“Well, don’t forget that we could not have sent her to that school for girls if not for my sister letting Marpessa live with her.” Father ended the conversation by turning his back on his wife, and biting into a freshly picked apple. Drops of juice sprinkled his thick beard. “Where is she going to sleep? Have you given any thought to that wife?”

When Marpessa last lived with her family, she had shared a straw mattress with her brother Hassan. But both children were adults now, Marpessa eighteen and Hassan twenty-one. “I have cleared out the store room off of the kitchen. Its big enough for a bed, and it will be warm enough, being close to the kitchen fire.”

Father grunted his approval.

*****

Marpessa swayed with the motion of the wagon as the horses pulled it up the mountain pass to her family’s home. Her uncle brought her home with some goods to trade. She dressed in the highest fashion of women in the city, Mazar El Sharif, leather ankle boots held on with buttons, a white headscarf that left a strip of her black hair exposed and a leather belt that held her blouse to her waist.

She smiled in anticipation of her reunion with her family. Father, always stern, always slipping her candy. Mother, so pretty even in her graying years. And Hassan. Even though she was the younger sibling, Marpessa had been taller than him when she left. It happens that way sometimes, the girls grow taller, faster. The boys always catch up though.

Marpessa watched the house as they approached, a granite dwelling on a granite mountain surrounded by the opium poppy’s red blooms.

 

[Rhovan]

Hassan

Hassan watched the road from his position on the side of the moutain. He watched the wagon through the sights of his rifle. An M1903 Springfield. It was an amazing weapon, one of the best that the family had on the farm.

Hassan couldn't see who was on the wagon, but he knew from the complex markings on the side that it was one of their own. And that is why he didn't immediatly fire on it. Hassan was on patrol with two of his cousins, making sure that the massive fields of poppy were unmolested.

He turned from his spot in the rocks and walked a short way into the saddle of two small hills. He patted a cousin on the shoulder to wake him, and called the other from around the hill where he was releaving himself. They all mounted their horses and started the long trek down the side of the moutain.

It would be some time until they could make it back to their home, but they made it stoically. Traveling quickly, but safely, to meet their uncle and the liquor he definatly had brought with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mother left the growing pile of hash on the table, standing to clean her hands in a basin of water. She walked out onto the porch with Father, her hand over her eyes to shield the glare of the sun from them. She wanted to glimpse Marpessa again, she had so missed her daughter over the last 8 years.

But they needed an educated child, and Marpessa was the obvious choice. So they sent her to an all girls school, run by the local British citizens. They always felt better when they gave a leg up to the local natives. She waited beside Father in breathless excitement, and she sent one of the younger cousins to round up everyone from the farm to help unload goods and to see Marpessa again.

 

[Marie Lavallois]

Marpessa

The horses strained. The last stretch of road was made up of a wicked set of switch-backs that wound up the steep mountain. Marpessa looked up at the small stone house and thought that she saw mother and father.

"Faster uncle!" Marpessa impatiently cried.

"I can't go any faster. The horses are tired!"

"Very well then," she said as she slid down from the bench seat.

Her uncle only clicked his tongue at the girl's actions.

Marpessa began to swiftly climb the mountain. Soon, the wagon was behind her. Even though she had been gone for so long, she still knew the road. She knew the location of the ladder-steep shortcuts between the switchbacks that led to the house.

 

[Rhovan]

Mother/Father

Father moved from the edge of the porch and too his chair, near the door. He rested his rifle against the door jamb as the porch started to fill with members of the family. As he waited, he idly worked the dirt from his nails with his knife blade.

Mother however was standing at the edge of the porch, longing to rush to her daughter. But she didn't dare, she was afraid of the dangerous short cuts that her daugher clambored up like a moutain goat. She also didn't want to make Father unhappy by showing any undue emotion or excitement. Father was a stoic man, in both good and bad times, and he felt the family should be the same way.

They waited on the porch as the cousins and uncles and neices and nephews all filled in the front room and the wings of the porch. Everyone was talking in low voices, and it gave an interesting backdrop to the juxtaposed differences of the excited mother and the level headed father.

 

[Marie Lavallois]

Marpessa:

Marpessa was on the last switchback to the house. She paused for a moment to compose herself before taking the last shortcut that would take her to the family compound. Horse hooves sounded from down the road. It could not have been her uncle on his slow-moving wagon. She hid behind a rock on the side of the road to watch the horsemen pass.

The first two riders, she thought she recognized from her childhood. Two cousins. The third held himself higher in the saddle than the two subordinates. He had a finer horse with strong legs and a well-combed mane. Dark, cropped hair framed his handsome face.

Marpessa keenly understood her role as the only daughter of the Fortula family. She knew that many neighboring families wanted to marry their sons to her. And now that she could read and write, she was that much more of a prize, a woman who could help manage opium production, harvesting the poppies, extracting the hash, and compressing it into one kilo bricks. She gave birth to a secret hope that the man who passed by was a sutor.

After the three horsemen passed, she scrambled up the last shortcut to the house. So many relatives greeted her! Most of them blurred in her memory. But mother she knew instantly. Amid the smiles, shouts and well wishes of the others, the two women embraced.

"Mother, I've missed you!"

"Yes, dear, me too! But say hello to your father and the rest of the family!"

Marpessa went around to everyone. First, she honored her stern father. Then, she exchanged heart-felt hugs with the rest of her family. The family had slaughtered three goats to celebrate her return. Now, before the party could begin they only had to wait for Uncle's wagon of alcohol and for Marpessa's brother, Hassan.

 

[Rhovan]

Hassan

Hassan and his cousins rode past his uncles wagon. He nodded to his uncle as they came abreast. Hassan and his uncle, his Father's brother were nearly of the same position in the family. So hostilities were common between the two men. The whole family knew that when father finally passed, the farm would pass to Hassan, and so would the family. He was the biggest man at the farm, the strongest and the best fighter. Unfortunatly, he couldn't read, write or do any of the more complex things in life. He knew how to run an opium farm, he knew how to protect it, but he would get taken in every deal made if it wern't for the other members of the house.

That was why they took Marpessa and sent her away these last 8 years. She was to run the books of the farm, and the women. Just like mother had before her, and grandmother before her. It was a tradition, the family and farm went down patrilineally, and the books and the knowledge went down matrilineally. To help keep the family together.

Hassan dismounted in front of the house and went inside, while the cousins took the horses around the back to brush them down, and water them. Hassan took an apple from the bowl on the sideboard and stood in the shade, out of sight, eating the apple pensivly. The alcohol would mean an unruly evening, and possibly some trouble. He was wearing dust stained clothing, his hair falling about his face, his stubble shaved each morning, but back by the early evening. He had on large boots, his rifle over his shoulder, a luger on his hip and a rather large knife stuffed into his boot. He wore a bandoleer with shells for the rifle across his chest.

Hassan could hear the family greeting someone, and he didn't know who it was. He stepped outside onto the porch and saw a woman. She looked vaguely like his sister, but she was gone to school. Then Mother stepped forward and grabbed the womans hand, raising her voice.

"Hassan! Come meet Marpessa! She is back from school Hassan!"

Hassan stepped out of the kitchen and started towards his Mother, the rest of the family moving subtly to make a path from his steps. He stopped in front of his Mother and looked to the new woman.

"Marpessa? Is that really you?"

 

[Marie Lavallois]

Marpessa

Marpessa saw family members pushing the handsome horseman close to her. He was to he her husband! At eighteen, she was practically an old maid, she needed to get married soon. She saw that female cousins her own age already had round bellies, and babies in their arms. Despite her education, Marpessa felt behind when compared to her fertile relatives.

She ripped the scarf from her head. It was too dowdy. She quickly ran her hand over the top of her head to smooth any stray hairs. If there weren't so many people around, she would have pinched her cheeks to get their color up. But, they would think it vain. So, she made due with licking her lips to enhance their blush.

"Marpessa, is that really you?"

"Hassan?" She said, as she felt a leaden flop in her stomach. "Hassan. Well, you've grown."

When she had left, Marpessa was a good two inches taller than her brother. It burned him that she was taller, but he was older. To make up for it, he delighted in fighting with her, knocking her to the ground to show who was stronger. Half of the time, Marpessa found a way to get the upper position. She would jam her thumb into his armpit. The most effective ploy was to jerk her knee into his groin. She never connected with his vitals, but Hassan's attempts to protect himself diverted his attention long enough for her to get away.

As she stared at her brother, she drew her fingertip across her mouth to dry her lips.

"Well, you certainly grew while I was gone. Bet you thought it wouldn't happen, and I would always be the tallest." She said in a taunting voice.

 

[Rhovan]

Hassan

"Hassan? Hassan. Well, you've grown."

"And a very fine how do you do to you too, Marpessa." Hassan taunted back. She sounded let down at he was here still. Well, now she had nothing on him. He was both older and taller, though he relised that was just a petty argument that two young children would have.

"Well, you certainly grew while I was gone. Bet you thought it wouldn't happen, and I would always be the tallest."

Hassan's face broke into a huge smile. "Ahh...yes, I did think you were going to be taller, but now I've got some 5 inches on you Marpessa. And I'm pretty sure I could beat you in a fight now too, as well."

He stretched out his arms to hug his sister. As much as they bickered and argued in the public eye, they were very close, having lived for the first ten years of Marpessa's life in the same room, and usually sharing clothes as well.

But their pathes have diverged, Hassan has become a rugged moutain man and a guerrilla fighter. While Marpessa was a protected school girl. Who had been away from the riggors of life for the last 8 years.

 

[Marie Lavallois]

Marpessa

Slowly, shyly, she stepped into his open arms and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her hands touched his back for a brief moment, then she uncircled her arms and stepped back.

She started to ask Hassan which of the darkly lovely women were his wives. Surely, mother had already married him into at least two neighboring families.

She didn’t have time to ask her question as their Uncle’s wagon pulled to the front of the house just then. Marpessa’s carpetbag was thrown down, and mother asked Hassan to put them in the kitchen storeroom. When he opened the door to that little room, he saw that the shelves of hand-preserved fruits and vegetables had been moved to make room for a narrow cot.

Back outside, barrels of red wine had been tapped, and the roasted goats had been removed from the spits. Father rolled his sleeves back from his hairy forearms and began to carve meat with his great curved knife. Mother coordinated the rest of the meal, sliced cucumbers with yogurt, steaming platters of rice studded with raisins and nuts and for desert, figs drizzled with honey. There were too many people to fit inside, so the feast was moved outside, under the grape arbor. Marpessa sat at the head of the table, a spot usually reserved for father.

As the day slid into night, the gathering increased in volume. The young women with babes in arms said their good-nights and, in groups, walked back to their homes by torchlight. With that calming influence gone, the men re-filled their tumblers of wine and fell to bragging. They lit fires on the stony ground outside of the house, and shot their rifles into the air.

Sitting in the darkness of he grape arbor next to her mother, Marpessa watched them aim their weapons at the stars. Hassan’s M1903 Springfield fired the loudest shots. She had to clap her hands over her ears when he fired.

 

[Rhovan]

Hassan

Hassan went to embrace his younger sister, only to be lightly held and then parted from. A tiny look of confusion peppered with hurt crossed his face, but then he wiped it clear from his face.

As the cart rolled up, Hassan shouted instructions to get the cart quickly unloaded. Father sat there, a look of pride on his normally stoic face, seeing his daughter Marpessa for the first time in 8 years. Hassan nodded to his mother and took the bag she indicated. He took it into the kitchen store room, seeing the small room where Marpessa appeared to be staying in.

He looked outside of the store room and snagged a passing cousin, to deliver another blanket for Marpessa as the moutain nights got cold indeed.

Hassan strode back out onto the porch to see the festivities already getting under way. Father cutting the meat as was the right of the house hold, but Hassan knew he would still end up with a portion of the best meat on the goat. He always did. He took a small bowl of honey coated figs and ate them pensivly, thinking of the beautiful woman his thin, lanky and previously taller sister had become. Quite the woman indeed.

Hassan sat at the right of his Father, who sat at the right of Marpessa. He was down a little farther on the table than he usually was, but he didn't exactly mine. He used to let Marpessa take the lead in the past, and in certain cases, he was still willing to let her take the lead. She was educated after all.

Hassan avoided getting drunk, as he was normally a sober man. He did drink, but he stopped well before it affected him. It would be just like the neighbouring farms to attack while they feasted this night, so he stayed on his guard, and he kept most of the younger cousins on guard and sober as well.

But Hassan did take part in the joyous firing into the air. He noticed when he fired his rifle, Marpessa would shield her ears, so after re-loading, he walked to her side.

"Would you like to fire it Marpessa? Or are you too...pampered for that sort of thing?" He teased his younger sister.

 

[Marie Lavallois]

Marpessa

Unable to let the challenge go, Marpessa stood up and brushed the back of her dress. She marched to him and met him eye to eye. "How does it work?"

The long barrel felt heavy and dangerous. Remembering how loud it was, she almost gave it back, but no. She was not too pampered for this.

The recoil knocked the butt of the rifle into her shoulder. Lowering the weapon, she rubbed her arm with the palm of her hand. "This is yours, Hassan. You're the only one strong enough to handle its bite."

Then, quickly, before the courage left her, she asked the question that burned her mind all night. "So, of the women here earlier, which was your wife? Do you have one, or more?"

 

[Rhovan]

Hassan

"How does it work?"

Hassan showed her how to load the weapon, the clip under the rifle, and how to sight the weapon. He watched her heft it, and it was a heavy weapon. He watched her raise the weapon and fire it. But he also noticed she didn't hold it properly, and she hurt her arm for having done it how she did.

"This is yours, Hassan. You're the only one strong enough to handle its bite."

"Here, let me show you." He placed the rifle back into her hands, and brought it up to her shoulder, pressing the butt of the rifle hard to her shoulder, holding it in place against her shoulder and her shoulder in place against the rifle by pressing his chest against her back.

"Fire it again, here, rack the bolt like so," He showed her how to re-load the weapon with his left hand, his right hand still holding the rifle tight to her body. This time when she fired it, it would hurt less than before, but firing against a hurt shoulder still wouldn't feel good.

He was standing behind Marpessa when she asked the next question, as he was holding the rifle to her shoulder awaiting her next shot. "So, of the women here earlier, which was your wife? Do you have one, or more?"

He laughed softly, his works quiet as they floated over her shoulder. "I am not married Marpessa. None of these women excite me...they are boring. All they know is weighing the poppy...I suppose I'll have to find a woman from another farm to make mine."

He sighed softly, "Now, try again. Show God how happy you are this evening, so that the bullet will arc in front of his eyes with your name trailing behind."

 

[Marie Lavallois]

Marpessa:

Steadied by Hassan, Marpessa took aim at the North Star and lithely squeezed the trigger. Her message to God rang in both of their ears as the bullet ascended the heavens. The recoil did not affect her so badly this time because Hassan braced her shoulder.

The armed men around them hooted approval and lifted their glasses of wine. Marpessa turned to smile at one of them, but so far from the firelight of the house, she could not see his face. It occurred to her then that the men surrounding them could not see that the couple in their midst was Hassan and his sister.

She stayed still. The feel of Hassan against her back reminded her of he nights they spent huddled for warmth. She wanted to savor that closeness, but she was keenly aware that the others might think it unnatural. They used to tease each other as they lay in bed, so she fell to that again.

“Hassan,” she whispered. “So, you are not married yet? None of these women are what you want? What do you want then?”



The dog barking on the porch broke their quiet conversation. It was a new dog, born after Marpessa left for school, and it seemed to be a little dim witted. When strangers flooded the house earlier, it slept in the kitchen. But now, when all was quiet, it barked as if under attack.

Mother came out onto the porch and pulled it inside by its collar. She looked out into the darkness around the house and shouted. “Mar-pessa! Come in! Hassan! Find your sister!”

 

[Rhovan]

Hassan

"Congratulations little sister, your technique is improving, though I still wouldn't trust your ability to hit the broad side of a barn door." He laughed from behind his sister as he lifted the heavy rifle from her hand. His own hands moved with efficent movements to pull the clip, slide another bullet in from his bandoleer and then place the clip back into the rifle. He worked the bolt and then slid the rifle over his shoulder by the strap, all the while, never moving away from his sister, so his chest still pressed firmly to her back. She didn't move away, so he didn't move away. It was almost like another tiny competition between them.

“Hassan. So, you are not married yet? None of these women are what you want? What do you want then?”

Hassan laughed softly and placed his hands on his kid sister's shoulders as he responded. "I do not want a thrall like these woman around me. They move as if crawling before me, bowing and scraping like little mewling kittens who's eyes have not yet opened." He moved his mouth closer to his sister's ear to speak a sudden thought, "I want a woman that will not let me bowl her over. Everyone here acts as if I were God, yet He is still in the Heavens, and Father would be God before me."

Hassan lifted his head from his sister's shoulder at the sound of the dog's barking. He took a swift step to her right, bringing himself out from behind his sister and raised his right hand. The two cousin's from before appearing soon at Hassan's side, as if they were his honor guard. Hassan looked back to his sister, his head cocked to one side. Something was wrong.

“Mar-pessa! Come in! Hassan! Find your sister!”

Hassan scowled, as his suspicion was affirmed. Something had gone wrong, and he didn't know what it could be. Both of the cousin's near her tensed visably, and Hasson shouted some orders to the rest of the crowd.

"Pack it up, form patrols. Check the fences and the road." The other men hurried to the barn to get horses, a couple of the younger men running down to the ladder like short cuts to check the road and the main gate. The women started to collect the food, and break down the tables and flat ware.

Hassan turned to Marpessa. "I suppose we should go find out what Mother wants." He took a step forward towards the house and the two cousins flanked, but a step behind. So they were like a little Y, Hassan in the front, and Marpessa surrounded by the three men. After an 8 year absence, they were not about to let her get hurt by something as foolish as a fall in the dark, or as serious as a rogue bullet.

 

[Marie Lavallois]

Marpessa:

"My brother, my protector," she whispered.

The foursome made it up the steep rocks to the main porch. Although Marpessa had been walking city streets, the remembered the skills needed to navigate the stone slabs around their home.

Their home stood in a tree-less circle because every little sapling or root that tried to take hold got cut back. The trees were kept back from the poppy fields and the house to that the family could see anyone who approached. The defense strategy was as old as the Alhambra, built by the Moors in Spain.

When they were close to the porch, all four of them heard a snap in the forest. To Marpessa, it could have been a nocturnal rodent, or some furry creature that owls feast on at midnight.

 

[Rhovan]

Hassan

Hassan and the two cousins moved quickly to the house, with Marpessa between them. If she stumbled or tripped up slightly, a strong hand was there to steady her and point out a more advantagous place for her foot falls. They worked well together, as these two cousin's were Hassan's favorites. They worked as friends, cousilers, body guards and scouts. Hassan was never one for letting others do the risky or hard work, so he needed some strong men with him for when he inevitably found trouble.

The three men stopped at the snapping sound in the woods, Hassan turning and taking ahold of Marpessa's shoulders. He moved her into the kitchen behind the wall and stood in front of the door, blocking the sight into or out of the building with his frame. He made a motion towards the woods and the two cousin's shot off like a bolt, heading for the woods to find out what caused the noise.

Hassan called over his shoulder, his eyes still scanning the wooded horizon. "I've brought Marpessa mother, what is wrong?"

 

[Marie Lavallois]

Marpessa:

"It is nothing, this mongrel is an idiot!" Mother yelled.

At her sharp words, the dog tucked its tail to the ground and hid under the house. From there, it let out a howl that seemed to resonate from the earth. Another howl answered it, less domesticated, ragged, and dangerously close.

Father picked his rifle up and said, "A wolf. Sounds alone, but who knows. It came from the woods."

One of the cousins looked in the direction father inticated and said, "Some of the younger children took food out there. Perhaps they left scraps. That would entice a wolf to come so close."

Mother took Marpessa inside and the men ventured into the forest holding rifles and torches.

Hassan saw the wolf first, a huge thing, its shoulders as tall as Hassan's waist. Mange had eaten holes in its graying fur. It led a pack once, in its prime, but now, it stood guarding the left-over leg bone of a goat.

 

[Rhovan]

Hassan

"A wolf. Sounds alone, but who knows. It came from the woods."

"I sent Jibi there, just moments ago. Maybe he has found the wolf?"

"Some of the younger children took food out there. Perhaps they left scraps. That would entice a wolf to come so close."

Hassan looked to the cousin that spoke, "Well then cousin, I suppose you should make sure that the children do not do that again, yes?" The cousin nodded quickly, he wasn't at fault, but he knew he would be if it happened again.

Hassan spotted the wolf, but he merely stood and watched it. In fact, he had to press his cousin's rifle point down, to prevent it being shot.

"I saw we leave it be...he wont bother us, there are to many of us, and our fires should scare the beast. Just make sure none of the children wander off."

He looked to his Father for his responce, knowing full well that if Father wanted it killed, it would be killed quickly and without complaint.

 

[Marie Lavallois]

Marpessa:

Father shouldered his gun, and tried to take aim in the dim light. The wolf felt the threat, and hunkered down. The wolf pounced with surprizing energy for such an old thing. But, that only brought it closer to father's bullet.

Tense confusion followed as the younger men knew that the shot at such close range must have killed the wolf. But, they wolf lay over father as if in triumph.

Father called out, "Get this thing off of me!"

The cousins rolled the still-warm wolf carcas away and helped father stand. The wolf's dying act was to put a long scratch on his arm from elbow to wrist.

Marpessa, not listening to her mother's warnings, had taken a small rifle and ran from the house when she heard the shot. Hassan was the first to see her running. Her head scarf fell to her neck, leaving her hair to flow free. It flew out behind her, like a raven in the night.

 

[Rhovan]

Hassan

Hassan looked to the stars, he felt the death of this wolf was a bad portent. The leader of the pack was dead, after being abandonded. Hassan idly wondered if that would be himself in the future. Then he heard father shout, "Get this thing off of me!"

Hassan watched the cousin's work quickly to get the beast off of his father, and then he called some orders. "Get him back to the house quickly, we need to tend to that wound."

Then he noticed Marpessa running towards the small knot of men, rifle in hand, scarf flying from her neck, hair flying from her head. She almost looked like an avenging angel, but Hassan did not want her to see her Father's wound so he moved to intercept Marpessa, catching her about the waist with his arms to keep her from getting close enough to see clearly.

"Where do you think you are going with a rifle little sister?" He said as he positioned his broad shoulders to block her view of their father.

 

[Marie Lavallois]

Marpessa:

"Where do you think you are going with a rifle little sister?" He said as he positioned his broad shoulders to block her view of their father.

Her free arm wrapped around his waist as she ran into him and his took her thin waist in his muscled arm. They looked like a pair of dancers, their right arms holding their weapons aloft, and their left arms wrapped around each other. The bandoleer of shells around his chest pressed into both of them, but they did not break their lock.

"I heard a shot! The fields are my living too, I came to help!" She spoke breathlessly as she was winded from running. "Please, tell me, what is it?"

He told her about the wolf, and she answered, "Is that all? Just a stray wolf at the end of its life? Or do you see something else in this?"

She leaned close, as they did when they were children sharing secrets. The prickle of his beard shocked her some. His cheek had been smooth the last time they held each other so close. Scratchy as it was, she didn't back away from it. Marpessa wanted more of that rough feel.

As soon as she realized the feeling she had for her brother, she stiffened

 

[Rhovan]

Hassan

When Marpessa ran into him, they actually spun a turn, before Hassan managed to work his way between her and everything else. They really did look like dancers, as Hassan gently took the rifle from her hands and using the strap, slung it over his shoulder. He felt her pressing hard against him, their arms holding one another tight. Her for balance he assumed, and his to keep her from getting past him.

"I heard a shot! The fields are my living too, I came to help! Please, tell me, what is it?"

"Do not worry yourself. It was an old wolf, sick with mange, Father killed him, but Father hurt his arm. Do not worry yourself about things like this Marpessa, the men will defend you. You do not need a rifle...at least not until I can teach you how to really shoot."

"Is that all? Just a stray wolf at the end of its life? Or do you see something else in this?"

"I see quite a lot into this...the wolf was huge, he had to have led a pack in his prime, but he was alone...abandoned and killed. All he wanted was to eat his goat in the woods, but since he couldn't keep his mouth shut with the howls, he died. I see a lot into this..."

He leaned in close with her, he could feel her cheek pressing against his own, their stomachs touching, his legs pressed against her legs, his arm around her body. He could feel her stiffen against his body suddenly, and that caused their pelvis's to meet one another, his slight excitement painfully obvious to Marpessa. He unconciously tightened his hold on her, feeling her breasts press against his chest. His cheek rubbed gently against Marpessa's cheek as the men hurry past, far enough away that the darkness concealed their identities. Besides, Father was hurt, the men didn't care about another man and a woman standing in the field.

 

[Marie Lavallois]

Marpessa:

She felt the cock pressing into her belly as a challenge, as if Hassan was playing this trick just to see how long it would take her to back off in embarrassed silence. Since he had removed her weapon, she had both arms free to wrap around his waist, pulling her tender breasts into his chest.

Slowly, she shook her head, as if to chide him. The stubble of his cheek scraped across hers again and again. After spending the last eight years in a school for girls, with no men in their midst but an elderly eunuch gardener, the physical contact with Hassan intrigued Marpessa. That’s all it was at first, an extension of “you show me yours,” a game they played long ago.

“Brother . . .” she said in a harsh whisper. And that was IT. The closeness of the embrace, the intimacy of their family bond, his rough cheek and hard cock, all of it swirled about in her head into one hot secret. Marpessa wanted to stay there in the woods, locked into him.

But their time together was short. Mother called from the porch. Brother and sister broke apart, and climbed back to the house. Marpessa was told to help wrap father’s arm in long cotton strips to stay the flood of blood. Mother even shooed Hassan and his cousins out of the house. Nursing was a matter for women.

“Hassan!” Jibi said. “We’ve worked hard. Let’s leave the others to guard the family, and go down to Madame Fanny’s! Its still early enough to visit her.”

The other cousin, a little older and more practical said, “Those whores are expensive. We have no money.”

“They’ll spread their legs for this,” Jibi brought out a lump of hash, about as big as his fist. “This is enough for all of us to get out dicks wet.”

“Its all up to you, Hassan, do we go or not?”

Soon, the three rugged mountain men followed a torch to the village below. Madame Fanny’s was a fine house, hung with red drapes in each window. As the cousin said, even the middle of the night was not too late to visit. Fanny greedily took the lump of hash and turned it around in her plump fingers. “All three of you, pick any girl you want,” she said.

The three cousins strode into the parlor. In the corner, a midget, with a woman’s perfect shape but a child’s height, turned the crank on a Victrola. The spinning black disk spun a slow song. Pink and red silk scarves covered the gas lamps, giving the room a rosy glow. A copper-haired woman with breasts that flopped out of the top of her chemise reclined on the sofa. Two dark-haired beauties stood in the corner, their heads bent in intense conversation. They stood up straight when they noticed the men. An Asian beauty with almond eyes and ivory skin sat in a chair, puffing an opium pipe.

All of the ladies in the parlor wore some sort of under thing; frilly drawers that displayed their knees, corsets that cinched the waist and presented the bosom or long dressing gowns hung loosely over their shoulders.

 

[Rhovan]

Hassan

Instead of pulling away from Hassan, Marpessa pushed against him, more than she already was, even bringing her other arm around his body. He could feel her brushing her face back and forth across the stuble of his cheeks, apprently enjoying the slight scrapeing feeling it produced.

“Brother . . .”

Hassan was affected, much as he wished otherwise. Her face brushing against his own, his erection pressed tight to her body, and her words. The tone, and the inflection, it just sliced right through his defenses. He felt a sudden pang of arousal, and he knew it was because of Marpessa. His sister, one with the same flesh and blood. And he didn't care.

Hassan was brought back to reality when Mother shouted to them, and he reluctantly released Marpessa and stepped a safe distance away before walking back to the house with her. He watched Marpessa move off to bandage their Father's wound, but he didn't get to watch for long because Mother chased him right out of the room, him and his two closest cousins.

“Hassan!” Jibi said. “We’ve worked hard. Let’s leave the others to guard the family, and go down to Madame Fanny’s! Its still early enough to visit her.”

The other cousin, a little older and more practical said, “Those whores are expensive. We have no money.”

“They’ll spread their legs for this,” Jibi brought out a lump of hash, about as big as his fist. “This is enough for all of us to get our dicks wet.”

“Its all up to you, Hassan, do we go or not?”

Hassan thought for several seconds, to visit the whores or not this fine evening? Then he nodded, he was is dire straights after his little encounter with Marpessa and he was in need of release.

"Tonight boys, we go to Madame Fanny's." And he turned to head to the stables, Jibi running forward to get the horses ready for the ride down. The road down quickly, dismounting near the house and tieing their horses to a tree. In they walked and Jibi settled the matters with Madame Fanny. Hassan was brought out of his speculative thoughts of Marpessa when Madame Fanny's words broke the silence. "All three of you, pick any girl you want.”[/i]

Hassan stepped into the middle of the room, a room that he had visited before, albeit infrequently. He looked around the room at the women. Rather, the whores. He grins at his thoughts of the night he spent with the midget woman. Or the evening he spent with the firey red head, who was a tigress in bed. But tonight, Hassan's eyes were on the Asian woman.

He dug his hands into his pockets and pulled out a smaller lump of hash than was given to Madame Fanny, and placed it into the Asian woman's hand before helping her from her seat and walking with her to her room, where she entertained the guests.

The two cousins went for their usual fair, the two dark haired women that they admired and hoped to marry just like most men who visit whores. Mistaking work for love.

Hassan let the Asian woman enter the room first, and shut the door behind them, setting the latch in place, then her turned around as she stashed the lump of hash into a make-up box for later use. "Do not tell me your name....tonight, I will call you Marpessa." Hassan told the asian woman as he moved to the center of the room, on the thickly carpetted floor.

 

[Marie Lavallois]

The Asian whore bowed deeply at the waist when Hassan dropped the lump of hash into her hand. His contribution would bring her hours of oblivion, and for that, she was grateful.

She undressed in a business like manner, hanging her dressing gown and chemise on a peg beside her bed, similar to a baker removing his coat to prepare for work in a hot kitchen. Once she was nude, she eased Hassan out of his clothes, pulling his shirt sleeves down his arms and un-buttoning his trousers. She hung his clothes on another set of pegs.

Stepping back, she allowed him to see her lithe body. Her breasts were small, only apparent when she bent over and they hung away from her chest. On her dresser, she had a small bottle of musk-scented oil. She smoothed it over her hands so that they would glide over his body. On her knees in front of him, she milked his cock with slow, measured movements.

"Do not tell me your name....tonight, I will call you Marpessa." Hassan told the asian woman as he moved to the center of the room, on the thickly carpetted floor.

She bowed and said, “What should I call you?”