Heronie Of The Slaves - Song Of Fire And Sand "For Me You Will Always Be A Queen"

Heronie of the slaves - Song of fire and sand "For me you will always be a queen"

"For me you will always be a queen"

Kayra was a beautiful women  But for Shapur she was so much more

Kayra (Pars Era 321)

To describe Kayra was not easy: 

She was like the desert wind, which danced around and which you could never get hold of.  Sometimes gentle and quiet, sometimes merciless and loud.  Her voice was like a gentle spring rain, which was refreshing to the skin and made you pause for a moment.  She was gentle and loving, good at listening and giving advice. She was like the sea on a calm day, light, playful and beautiful.  Her red hair was reminiscent of the Parsi roses that bloomed in the royal garden.  Her green eyes shone like the lush forests of eastern Pars.

Narsus described her as perceptive.  Daryun as an equal comrade.  Elam and Alfreed would call her a loving elder sister.  Farangis saw her as a strong friend.  Gieve recognized not only her outer beauty, but also her inner beauty and saw her as a confidante.  For Jaswant she was an ally against the hostilities.  Prince Arslan would call her the sun, warm and full of hope, a patient teacher and confidante.  For Isfan she was like a sister and a mother at the same time.

Shapur knew this to be true of Kayra, but he knew more: 

He knew that her gentle voice, which was like a spring rain, could also be like a summer thunderstorm.  A thunderstorm that could arise so fast and pass away just as quickly. 

He knew that the calm sea that glistened gently in the sun also had its shallows  Shoals that he could never fully fathom, shoals that could capsize a ship.  Like the sea, Kayra could become stormy and cause any ship to crash on the cliffs, only to become calm and gentle again in the next moment.  Shapur knew that just like roses, she had her thorns and could not be plucked easily.  She could be passionate and impetuous, like the desert wind and her green eyes so deep that if you were not careful you could get lost in their deep green, almost like in the dark forests. 

Shapur knew all this and much more. 

He knew of her demons deep in her heart that came out at night and robbed her of sleep.  He also knew that he was guilty of those demons, he knew of the scars she hid on her back.  Scars that were not only on the outside but on the inside as well.  Scars that he was to blame for and scars that she tried to hide from everyone.  Shapur knew that Kayra was no longer a young girl, but a woman. A woman who had fought her way and not backed down, he could see the scars on her hands.  Hands that had fought for their own survival and that of others. The same hands that he had held so often in years past and that so often wandered through his hair in the morning.  Hands that now held a weapon and tended the wounded, hands that gently cupped his own and were stained red with the blood of the wounded.  Shapur knew she did not blame him, but he blamed himself. He blamed himself for the lost time, for his hesitation and for his naive behavior.  Kayra did not, for this was another side of a side that never looked back and looked forward. The side of her that Shapur always admired, the side that always put one step before the next and the side that dreamed of a better tomorrow. 

Shapur knew that he could not protect her, not from the cruel world he saw every day.  But he also saw that she was not broken by it but stronger than before. He knew how stubborn she could be and how much she hated to lose, how much she fought for her ideals and lost sight of many things.  Shapur knew this and he knew much more.  He knew how quickly she could be hurt if her trust was broken and he also knew that it was hard to regain that trust.  Shapur knew this and much more, he knew Kayra's peculiarities. 

He knew that she had never liked her laughter before, because she always grunted a little bit.  He knew how much she hated thunderstorms and how much she loved the smell of freshly baked bread.  He knew that her hair smelled of lavender and lemons and that she loved the time of almond blossoms. 

He knew her countless freckles.  He knew the small scar on her right iliac crest that Isfan had inflicted on her when he had played with a bow and arrow as a young boy.

Shapur knew that Kayra also read books late into the night to increase her knowledge to become better at helping people.  He knew a lot about her and he saw many sides of her.

But he did not know all sides of her, not anymore.  Some were still there, visible to all, some were hidden and some where gone a long time ago.  But for Shapur, Kayra would always be special. 

No matter if the simple peasant girl, the slave, the warrior, the healer.  For Shapur Kayra was a queen, his queen for whom he would fight and to whom he was loyal so.

Shapur could say "no matter how you see yourself for me you will always be a queen" and her loving smile that put little dimples in her face and her green eyes sparkling like emeralds showed him that he would never know all her sides, but that was ok for him.

I wasn't able to finish the thing I was writing like I was hoping to (damn it growing much larger and longer than I intended it to be) but here's a smol snippet from it before I go to bed:

“He is brought out of his thoughts when the man begins to sing, soil and snow still on his hands. His voice is soft yet strong, resonating in cold crisp air as if he sings to the mountains themselves and the mountains sing back, soft-packed earth and sunlit snow and naked branches. As if there's a thousand singers, thousand and one, overlapping and saturating the air like ocean waves, but there is only one singer and none other.”

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Arsan and Estelle thinking of each other.

I made golden sky and dessert for Estelle and snow mountains and clear sky for Arslan.

Lene (OC) by morry@MorryEvans