Zasha's Capture Ch. 02

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Flowers were the offering made for a pair being married. Family and friends would often pay homage to the Goddess in the days before the wedding, leaving flowers on the altar as evidence of the good will towards the pair. Tears threatened to fall again as he thought of all the people who must have paid homage to Areala with thanks and prayers for the coming union.

Baine's long strides brought them to the altar quickly, and Zasha was soon being lowered gently to the floor. Once he was standing on his own, the priestess stepped towards him and took his hand, bringing him close to the altar.

It was custom for one of the pair to choose something from the altar to hold. This was done as a symbol of carrying the blessing of others and the Goddess with you. The flowers were preserved and kept by the mated pair, often divided in half and buried with each one at death. Zasha looked at the vast amount of flowers, not wanting to arbitrarily choose one. Though this marriage was not of his heart's desire, he would not shun the gift that others had offered in its wake. He walked around the altar slowly, trying to choose from the burgeoning mass before him.

Faer was a fertile planet and flowers of all sorts were constantly in bloom, despite the season. Reds, blues, purples, yellows, oranges, iridescent and every other color imaginable spilled all around him. Loose petals released sweet fragrances as he bruised them with his bare feet as he moved as close as possible to the altar. None of the offering truly called to him. When he had almost decided to just grab one, he spotted something familiar from the corner of his eye, almost completely obscured by mountains of colorful blooms. He reached out, standing on his tiptoes as he pushed aside an enormous bouquet of deep purple orchids.

A tiny clump of prickly leaves emerged as he withdrew his hand. It was a bundle of healing herbs. They gave off a crisp smell as he grasped them, carefully avoiding the thorny leaves. A single flower was perched delicately among the scratchy foliage, the same flower that the statue of Areala held.

It was fitting.

He turned to the priestess, taking her offered hand. He clutched the bundle in his other hand, thankful that someone had known his purpose here was to heal the blight on his land.

Bundle in hand, he was lead to take his place before the altar once more. Cora took up her place behind him.

Done with the traditional choosing of a bouquet, he awaited the next step in sealing him to the strange man before him. Zasha found himself unable to meet Baine's eyes as he thought of what was about to happen. The words that Cora had passed to him from the emissary began to echo in his mind.

He was expected to consummate the marriage.

Consummate, consummate, consummate.

The word pounded in his head, over and over.

He had never been with anyone. Aside from his first experience with the soldiers, and his brief moments with Gowron, he had never been touched by another. His heart had yearned only for his beloved, leaving no room or desire for intimacy with another.

He would have to be intimate with this stranger. The large male had given him no evidence of cruelty to come, but he still had the sudden urge to flee the temple, his people be damned. The thought of those huge blue gray fingers touching and stroking him filled him with a cold fear. His heart reacted to the mental picture of his body being invaded by the tattooed behemoth, pounding in his chest so fast he began to feel a bit dizzy. A sense of wrongness filled him as he felt the panic he had been holding at bay roll over him.

Baine, who stood opposite Cora, mirroring her placement on the other side of the High Priestess, spoke. His voice was strong as it filled the temple.

"To the Ruler of the Tsa'tsay, I present your Tsar'sen. As the Second, I have found him lacking in nothing. Come and claim your Tsar'sen."

Zasha did not understand. He heard Cora gasp and turned to follow her gaze.

From the front of the temple a figure emerged. It was one that had haunted Zasha in his dreams for fifty three long, lonely cycles.

And yet it was different. His form was larger, both in height and breadth. The sinewy tentacles he remembered undulated around the approaching form. Black leather breeches hugged the muscular legs, and a flowing golden shirt exposed a naked chest. The sleeves flowed loosely, stopping at powerful forearms, where they disappeared underneath the lacings of black leather gauntlets which covered the rest of the arm to the wrist.

His panic dissipated, completely forgotten. Zasha knew nothing but the man approaching him. Shock coursed through him, freezing him in place.

Gowron continued his trek towards him and he watched him motionless as he stared into gold-flecked eyes. The right one was marred with a scar from his forehead to his cheek.

"Zasha."

So many questions, and yet he could not find his tongue. He could only stare in disbelief as Gowron came to take the place opposite of him. Emotions rolled through him.

He opened his mouth, but the only thing that came out was, "Gowron."

* * * *

The other half of his heart was waiting on him, staring with those huge purple eyes. Gowron had longed for this moment for so long, and now that it was here he could only speak one word.

"Zasha."

Beautiful. That was all Gowron could think of as he walked towards his beloved. The one he had been fighting to get back to for these long cycles. The one he had forsaken all other desires for. Those enormous purple eyes opened wide as they watched him approach. So very beautiful, and yet he was different than he remembered. It had been a long time.

"Gowron."

Ah. That voice. Once he had been more than happy to let it sooth him as he lie dying. How he had yearned for it. It washed over him, pulling out his need to claim Zasha as his once and for all.

He could see the questions rolling through Zasha's eyes. Questions he longed to answer as soon as they were alone. The fight to get back to his beloved had been a hard one. For fifty three cycles he had thought of nothing but returning for his mate. However, it felt as if the universe had conspired against him, preventing him from being reunited with the other half of his heart.

No more. He was here now and nothing and no one would stand between him and Zasha. He had returned despite the odds stacked against him. It was time to solidify their union in the eyes of all others. Soon, none could deny the bond between them.

He allowed himself a moment to take in Zasha, in all his glory. His clothing complemented his unique skin and hugged his small, soft form pleasingly. His hair was a beautiful weaving of sparkling braids. A testament to their coming union, toes peeked out from the silken leggings.

According to Tsa'tsay tradition, the pair to be married always came to the place of joining with bare feet. Once they reached the place where they would become one, the dirt gathered on the journey was washed away by the other. They would each wash the others feet as a symbol that they no longer walked on separate paths. It served as a tangible reminder that from that moment on, the path they took was traveled together. Unlike the pair being joined, the feet of those standing as witnesses would be unwashed. This was to show that they would continue to walk beside the pair, supporting them on their new path as they had the old one, carrying past memories and being there to create new ones as well.

Gowron knelt before Zasha, it was the signal the Priestess had been told to look for. She had been informed of the ritual that Gowron's people followed during their unions. He glanced at the Priestess as she bent, reaching beneath the altar to pull out a bowl filled with water, along with a soft cloth. As she turned back towards them, Gowron looked up at Zasha from his kneeling position on the temple floor.

He nearly lost his balance as Zasha launched himself into his arms, catching him by surprise. The serene silence of the temple was broken as the tiny frame shook, sobbing in his arms. Zasha clung to him, burying his face in his neck as he wept. Gowron's heart constricted, aching in his chest with indefinable emotion.

He cradled the small form in his arms, gently encasing him with his own body, using his tentacles to wrap around them and afford them some tiny measure of privacy. He held Zasha and rocked him gently back and forth as he stroked his braided hair, feeling the feathery antennae that were laid back and quivering. This being was so precious to him, he wished there was no one else here to witness this moment.

He soothed Zasha with soft shushes and caresses, despairing the weight that his beloved must have carried all these cycles. Slowly, after a few minutes, Zasha seemed to become calmer. He tried to set him back on his feet, but the grip around his neck tightened and Zasha made a small noise of denial. For a moment he thought Zasha had scratched him, only to realize that it was from the bundle Zasha was holding.

The Queen moved towards her twin, reaching out to try and pull Zasha from his arms. Gowron loosened his grip, prepared to allow her to try and coax Zasha from his arms. The moment her hands touched Zasha's shoulders, he frantically tightened his grip, shouting, "No!" into Gowron's neck.

A look of pained shock crossed the female's face, but Gowron was more concerned with Zasha. If Zasha did not wish to be moved, then he would simply have to adjust to Zasha's needs. He shifted Zasha slightly, keeping their bodies close, but moving so that Zasha was sitting on his thigh. This way Zasha could still hold on to him as he washed his feet.

He looked towards the Priestess, signaling her to bring the bowl and cloth that she was still holding. When she set it down, he noticed that there was a rainbow of petals floating in the water. Gowron steadied Zasha, holding him in place with one arm, as he lifted the flowing leg of Zasha's pants with the help of his tentacles. Baine knelt wordlessly beside Gowron, helping him to lift the bowl of water as he submerged the first of Zasha's feet. Gowron gently cleansed and dried it before moving to the next one. They were surprisingly clean. After he had finished drying them, Baine set the bowl down and took up his position opposite Cora once more.

When Gowron had begun washing Zasha's feet, he felt the grip on his neck loosen a bit. Now, Zasha was peeking from underneath Gowron's shifting tentacles. Despite the seriousness of the situation, the gesture was so sweet that Gowron could not help but smile. He turned his head to kiss the lilac lips gently.

"Zasha, do you think you can do that for me?"

After a moment of waiting, he felt a tiny nod. Slowly, Zasha disengaged from his embrace and sank to the floor. Not wanting to stand over him, Gowron moved to where he was sitting directly on the floor, his legs bent at the knee with his feet in front of him.

Zasha looked up at him for assurance before pulling the bowl of water closer. He lay down the small bouquet he was holding and pushed up Gowron's pant leg so that he could wash off his feet. He washed them both and then dried them, a small smile on his lips as he plucked off a few stray petals that clung stubbornly to scaled skin. Gowron watched as antennae twitched back and forth, glad to see they were no longer laid back against Zasha's head. Once the task was accomplished, they perked forward as Zasha looked up at him questioningly.

Gowron stood, reaching to take Zasha's hand. Zasha picked up his small bundle and then reached for the outstretched hand. After helping him stand, he wound his fingers together with Zasha's much smaller ones and they turned to face the High Priestess. Gowron was sure there was a smile lurking on her lips, but it vanished in an instant as she straightened her shoulders and prepared to speak.

"You have come today to become united as one being, seeking to join your lives together despite your differences. I have observed you today, and though there is much I do not understand, this I do: you are already bound together. When, how, and why I do not know, but I know that Areala smiles upon this union. Where there is love, Areala dwells, and it is obvious to any here who have borne your witness that you indeed have love. I sense that the path you must travel will be wrought with many hardships. She wishes it were not so, but it seems that tapestry is beyond Her ability to weave."

She paused, and for a moment it seemed she was listening to something. She nodded to herself and returned her attention back to Gowron and Zasha. Gowron locked eyes with her, he was shocked when he felt a whisper along his consciousness, "Tonight. You have been granted peace for tonight."

Only he had heard her voice. He understood what the message meant. Soon he would have to keep his end of the bargain, saving Zasha's people from the threat they faced, but tonight would be their own.

The High Priestess spoke again, this time her words were for everyone to hear.

"You stand before those you deemed worthy to serve as your witnesses. You stand in a holy place, observing traditions from each side that differ from your own. You stand together, now until the end of your lives."

She paused for a moment looking between the pair before turning to Zasha.

"Prince of Faer, do you choose to bind yourself to this man?"

"From now until the end of my life." Zasha's voice was strong, no hint of uncertainty.

"And you, First of the Tsa'tsay, do you choose to bind yourself to this man?"

Gowron turned to Zasha, still holding his hand, he knelt before him.

"As I have been bound since the moment I met him, so I will continue to be. For the rest of my days, I will love him as he deserves. Never again will I allow him to be separate from me."

He stood and faced the High Priestess once more. There was a definite smile on her lips this time. She stretched out her arms, palms up, "Before the Goddess and your witnesses, you have made your oath. From this moment, you are joined together as one. Go. Go and walk the path before you, knowing you do not walk it alone."

It was the moment he had been waiting for, since the moment they were separated so long ago. Fifty three cycles of struggling to secure his position as First, and fighting to bring his people together under a new way of life, all of his efforts had come down to this. The journey to be reunited with his Tsar'sen was over.

Finally, Zasha was his to claim as his own.

"Come," the feminine voice belonged to the Queen, "You will pass your first night at the palace."

Gowron did not miss the pained glace that was directed at Zasha, however Zasha himself was unaware. Her eyes turned away from him and without another word, she began to move towards the entrance to the temple. Once there, a temple attendant brought out Gowron and Baine's boots that had been prepared for after the ceremony. They quickly donned them as the Queen paused, waiting for them to finish.

Taking Zasha's hand in his own, Gowron turned to follow her, Baine close behind them. Once they reached the entrance, the doors opened, revealing a host of Faerian waiting for the ceremony to be over. A collective gasp was heard as the four stepped into full view. Those nearest to the entrance shrank back, fear apparent in their eyes at the sight of himself and his Second. The silence quickly was replaced by clamoring voices, slowly increasing in volume. Gowron could sense anger born of fear in the voices. His warrior instincts went on full alert as the voices became increasingly agitated.

Cora moved to address the crowd, but Zasha stepped forward first, pulling Gowron with him, their fingers linked together. It felt strange being pulled behind the smaller man, but Gowron allowed himself to be propelled forward by the gentle tug.

Zasha descended the few polished steps, Gowron in tow, until he halted on the very last one. The crowd had grown silent once more. He suspected it was due to the sight of him being pulled along by Zasha. Their size difference was startling, and his appearance was alien to them. He suspected these vast differences accentuated his willingness to let Zasha lead him.

He watched as Zasha looked out over the crowd before turning to look up at him. Zasha held his eyes as he spoke, his voice carrying over the crowd. "This is the path I choose by my own will."

The purple orbs turned to take in the gathered multitude once more. "Will any speak against the choice I have made of my own accord?"

Whispers once again moved through the crowd, only this time they fell silent after only a few moments. All eyes turned back to the temple entrance, this time resting fully on the newly bound pair. Gowron felt a small squeeze from Zasha's fingers before his mate moved to step down onto the earth with his bare feet.

Gowron moved, scooping Zasha into his arms before he had a chance to step onto the uncovered path. He felt the small arms go around his neck as Zasha snuggled into him, resting his head comfortably on Gowron's shoulder. The familiarity of the gesture soothed the crawling nerves the reaction from the crowd had frayed. This was right. He stepped down, waiting for the Queen to lead the way back to the palace.

Soon, Zasha would be fully his.

* * * *

Zasha had abandoned all hope. He had been standing before the altar of his beloved Goddess, fighting panic as it sank in that he would be married to a stranger. The rising panic had been broken by the appearance of the man he had been waiting for, for fifty three cycles.

In the time they had been separate, Zasha had watched his sister find her mate and start a family. He had lost his parents and watched his nation be pulled into war with a merciless enemy. Amidst war, he had defied his own sister and Queen to stand in the place he was most needed and do what he had been blessed to do: heal. He had stood on the battlefield as enemy forces bypassed the strongest enchantments and rained mayhem into the heart of the encampment that housed the most powerful healers. He had watched as men died and those blessed by Areala were taken captive. But all of those things had failed to shock him as badly as seeing Gowron come to stand before him.

How many times had restless dreams caused him to toss and turn in his sleep, only to wake alone and watch the suns rise from his window? How many times had he wept alone in his room, hiding his sorrow from anyone else? Watched Cora, Dafa, Mora, and Naban frolic together while his heart constricted with jealousy?

Endless questions filled his mind, but all of them were pushed aside by the realization that he was finally reunited with Gowron. All the pain, the loneliness, the crushing realization that yet another cycle had passed without his return, were gone. As Gowron knelt before him, it was if his body moved of its own accord, launching him towards his heart's desire. All tight control he had held over his emotions dissolved in an instant, the thick fog dissipating in the light of his love's golden eyes.

He gave no heed to any other that was present, all of his being focused on the man before him, finally being able to touch and be touched. When he felt hands trying to pull him from Gowron's embrace, he reacted, refusing to be moved from the arms he had longed for since the moment he had been forced to abandon them. This time, no one would separate him from this treasured embrace.

It felt as if he had floated through the rest of the ceremony. He had listened to the words of the High Priestess, but even more so to Gowron's declaration.

The trek back to the palace had started off badly; the crowd did not react well to the strangers in their midst. Zasha knew that many of them felt he was being sacrificed, which in truth he was, but not to whom he thought. He would have gone willingly at any moment if he had known who was seeking him.