Chains Of Love
By Merzibelle
Gilded Cage
Wes stood to one side of the counter, leaning an elbow on it, and discreetly watched Fred sleep on one of the lobby sofas. To all appearances, he was reading one of his 'big old books' as Cordy would say, but his attention was on Fred. She would whimper on occasion, almost as if she was trying to stifle tears. Wes knew that she was asleep and now wondered about the whimper, about if he should wake her. "What dark dreams do you dream, my dear?" Wes mused silently, "What demons hound you?"
. . . I stared upward, keeping my eyes on my darling Alex. Some secret corner of my heart knew that he had lied to me, that I would never see him again. Not in this life, at least. His brilliant blue eyes had been shadowed by resignation, and his soft words to me echoed and reechoed in my head. I watched, wanting to remember him always, and wished that I had told him I loved him, that our engagement wasn't just a mercenary ploy by my father for money. Soon, I could no longer see him and huddled in the cold night for some time, miserable and lonely. Being requested to assist in rowing the lifeboat was a blessing for it helped to warm me, allowed me to force the screams and cries that echoed around us out of my mind. With every oar stroke I prayed, prayed that my dear Alex didn't suffer as those whose cries we heard did. . . prayed that one day we might have what we were meant to, to be together. . .
Fred's whimpers seemed desperate, tortured, and she was twisting about in her dreams as if trying to hide from some awful truth. It broke Wes' heart to hear her like this and bothered him that she was still down here where anyone could wake her. Straightening away from the counter, Wesley crossed the room to crouch by Fred, brushing a lock of her tangled hair off of her face. Her soft, nearly inaudible whisper caused him to freeze for a moment, not entirely sure that he had heard correctly.
Shaking off a feeling of foreboding, Wes slipped his arms under her, carefully lifting her off the sofa as he rose. She snuggled her face into his neck, whispering again. However, this time he did hear her, and it took all his skill at hiding his feelings to be able to simply carry her upstairs, over Gunn's protests about Wes feeling up his girl.
Once upstairs, Wes laid Fred in her bed, slipping off her shoes and covering her with the light blankets piled at the end of the bed. She shifted in her sleep, turning toward where he stood, one hand outstretched toward her. As she moved, a soft, slithering sound captured his attention, and he stared in surprise at the ruby where it still rested around her neck. Dropping to his knees on the floor beside the bed, Wes started to edge the chain around, intending on removing the necklace. Fred's whimper of protest and sudden clutching of the pendant caused him to stop, releasing the chain and rising to his feet.
Crossing her room as quietly as he could, Wes paused in the doorway, one hand clasped on the knob. He stared at her for several very long minutes before bowing his head, whispering softly, "Sweet dreams, Fred." Slipping out the door, Wes pulled it closed with a soft click. Within, Fred whimpered, twisting in the sheets before settling deeper asleep.
. . . Kadeem knelt on the floor before me. I was to dance tonight for my gracious lord. Since I had been summoned to appear after court, I knew that I danced for him alone. I would show him all my skills and enticements, show him my love the only way I, a mere concubine, was allowed. I nodded to Kadeem, sitting perfectly still as he did my makeup. As soon as that was finished I rose, dismissing the eunuch, and heading for the chest that held my dancing costumes.
Rummaging about I soon decided which pieces to wear: the shimmering crimsons that would match the elaborate ruby that my lord had gifted me for pleasing him---that was the night he made me favorite. I draped the heavy necklace around my neck, the ruby resting in the hollow of my throat. A matching golden belt was tied at my waist. Next came the soft silks, sheer, but so full that I was hidden from the view of men's eyes, save those of my lord. I slipped off the soft shoes I wore within the confines of the harem, padding barefoot across the room at the summons of the vizier. There I stood before him, awaiting his approval before being escorted across the grand courts to join my lord.
Crossing courts and courtyards, I soon stood before the doors to my lord's private chambers. One door was opened just enough for me to enter before being closed again behind me. He was there, lounging upon piles of pillows, leaning on the edge of a divan. He was waiting for me, a glass of wine in one hand, his arm resting upon an upraised knee. I stopped just inside the doors, making my obeisance to him. A softly spoken command had me rising to my feet, an additional gesture to hidden musicians and I began my dance, tempting him with my body, knowing that my reward would be his hands on me, the ecstasy of his touch. . .
. . . Wes jerked awake with a gasp, covered in sweat and tangled in his covers. The dream was so vivid that he could still hear the music and was definitely feeling his body's reaction to it. Running a shaking hand through his hair, Wes lay back on the pillows, wishing he knew why a blonde baladi dancer had Fred's soulful eyes. He forced himself to relax, to sleep, for he needed to rest in order to tolerate the 'lovebirds'. . .
. . .I stared unseeing out onto the fountains at the center of the Court of the Odalisque. Many of the women were out there, all subdued, quiet, save for those closest to my wife. She was certainly merry enough, uncaring that my heart lay ill behind me in her chambers.
Amira, my paradise, was dying.
I didn't need the words of the physicians summoned to attend her to tell me that. I even knew the likely culprit. Poison. A woman's weapon. The huddled, sobbing mass of fabric at my feet provided the source: my own wife. Kalina had done her duty, presenting me with a son a year ago, and wanted no competition. Well, if that was what she wanted, that's what she would get.
Turning from the woman on the floor, I issued brisk orders. Kalina was to be banished. As the mother of the next Caliph, I could not order her death. But that didn't mean I had to accept her presence in my harem; she sowed dissent. Therefore, she would go to my cousin's castle in Arabia. She'd be more than comfortable there.
A soft sound from behind me had me turning. One of the physicians stood there, shaking his head. "I am sorry, lord. There is nothing we can do, save to ease her pain."
"Then leave us," I stated, gesturing toward the doors to the suite of rooms. Soon, several people--in fact everyone save Amira's personal servants and the vizier. As I started past him, Ammon, touched my arm, causing me to stop.
"There is something that you should know that hasn't been said."
I turned to the black man I trusted above all others in the court. I knew that he would never lie to me, no matter how bad the news.
"Amira is pregnant. If the calculations are correct, she takes your son to her grave with her."
My heart broke within my chest. I stared at the other man, seeing his sadness. Accepting his words, I went into Amira's private chamber, settling on the pillows that made up her bed, gathering her into my arms, listening to her labored breathing. I could only hold her, stroke her hair and watch the light that was Amira fade from her eyes. She was my beloved, would have been my wife, and taken from me far to soon. I would have my revenge . . .
. . . Fred woke with a scream, jerking away from the hands that shook her awake. She scuttled across the bed to huddle in a corner, staring at Cordelia with wide, terrified eyes. She shivered in that corner, staring, her mind still trying to process her dream. She had died, her child with her, all because of the blind ambitions of his wife. Fred slowly calmed, feeling arms around her and opened her eyes, hoping to see him staring at her. She was strangely disappointed to realize that Gunn was the one holding her while she cried. She wanted him, the man in her dream.