Thread: â remnants of the mesa )

It was the same kindness that the desert woman displayed to mere commoner girls that had earned her an acute scolding by her future husband Derrik. The palace was a sacred place, forged of stone raw from the earth. Elegant tapestries flowed like ribbons of red from the gilded walls, untouched by the sullied hands of peasants. The garden itself was its own Edan, immaculate and polished. Each flower was dainty and trimmed, cared for by none other then Ammon herself. Where her family had hailed from - past the sweeping mesa dunes and through a dead fissure - was an uncharted oasis. She was raised within a terrarium of exotic flora, each unique in their own individual fashion. It was this garden - this safehouse - she had forged for herself that had offered as a nostalgic getaway. Milady, thank you. Your kindness is unmatched. The young girls fled in the darkness of the night, their shadows as dainty as their tailored silk gowns. Within the silence, Ammon was left to brood. Tonight she was expecting a visit from her brother, Deacon, a man that rivaled the strength and size of a bear. She had cajoled her father into thinking that Deacon died during the revolt though this was certainly not the case. He traveled from the Mesa to Tevinter every full moon to inform his sister of what ill tides had been brought to their people. During his previous visit he had informed her that the two broken remnants of their clans were feuding. Needless to say Ammon was infuriated that her people, in such a time, were arguing amongst one another and murdering their own. She proclaimed that, after she was wed to the prince and her father made captain of the royal guard, she would sneak away to the Mesa ensconced upon a horse-drawn carriage toting fresh wheat to the country. She only hoped that her words of wisdom could halt their needless battles. Why are you out here? In the dark and alone, no less. It was that voice that made her blood boil. It was outlandishly casual, smooth and careless mendacious. She did not turn to greet her husband, rather, he addressed her by placing his calloused palms atop of her shoulders. Your father is being inducted into our royal forces, right now. He was looking for you. While Ammon did not house any hatred for her father, she was host to disappointment. His being the head of the king's royal guard interested her as much as sawdust. Come now, Estelle. You're always resisting. Derrik craned his neck inward with his chest pressed firm against his lover's back. He repositioned his hands around her waist, just so his fingertips grazed each other. At that moment Ammon was filled with raw vehemence. She tore herself from his arms and stood a wary distance from him. Yes, Derrik was a handsome man. Rugged features, wily chestnut hair and unforgiving blue eyes. But his aesthetics did his slimy personality no justice. But, much like an innocent pup taught to be vicious by its owners, she could not put him at fault for his actions. It was his father who had been pulling the strings. We're going to be married in three days, my dear ... three short days. After that what will you do? Continue to resist me? Push me away? It would be easier for the both of us if you just accepted me Everything you need is here. Money, clothing, shelter, entertainment and soon ... hopefully a family. Derrik almost felt as if Ammon had stopped breathing entirely. Come now. We haven't made love in months, since you were first brought here. Everyone will be leaving shortly, and our fathers no doubt will be celebrating with ale and grog ... we'll be alone. There are no deserts here. The abruptness of her voice summoned a need within the prince. He stood still as she once did, watching the agony in her eyes. You speak of happiness. Your happiness. You do not know true bliss until you've strode barefoot through a desert dune ... the warmth is overwhelming, it takes you, steals you from all problems that have once plagued you. Even a man who has lost everything - his wife, his children, his money, his home ... could travel to the mesa and feel empowered by the eventide as it paints the coming night sky. The desert, in its entirety, is happiness. Derrik watched, guffawed, as his wife then turned and strode into the palace. listulistulistulistu