Exhausted and with his rib aching, Kijani returned to their home with his new wife and hung up their cloaks. A twinge of lightning pain ran through his side as he did so, but Kijani stifled the wince. He turned to face his wife, but Chantria wasn’t where he expected her to be. She had walked into the kitchen as silently as the creeping breeze and was preparing the kettle.
Kijani smiled. “If you were a man you’d make a great ranger.”
“How so?” Chantria said getting two cups out of the cupboard. She sounded exhausted even though the party was a mere three hour introduction.
“I thought the floor and swallowed you whole when I turned around. I didn’t hear you sneak into the kitchen.”
Chantria turned on the stove and leaned against the counter. “Force of habit.”
His smile faded, but held. That reminded him of the lecture he had ten years ago. What had the old man said? “ Victims of abuse do everything within their power to prevent harm to themselves. They mould themselves into the ideal image of the abuser. They suppress any feelings that may cause the abuser to hurt them”, ‘cause the abuser to hurt them’ were the words that stuck with Kijani. You can’t ‘make’ someone hurt you, the person who hurts you has to make the choice to do it. The thought that his wife made such an effort to make herself invisible signified something he couldn’t put into words, but anger simmered in him like a serpent beneath the sand. Not that he’d ever let Chan see it in him, she’d probably run a mile. “what are you brewing? Doesn’t smell like tea.”
“It’s not the regular brand, no. It’s hemp tea with the hallucinogenic removed.”
At least she’s honest. “Isn’t that illegal?” he said pointedly.
“Not with the hallucinogenic removed. It’s used a lot in practice to relieve anxiety and help you sleep. It can also function as an anti-inflammatory.”
That sounds… useful for the next part of the conversation. “I’ll join you for a cup.”
“I thought you might.”
The kettle whistled and Chantria filled both mugs. She brought them both into the living room and left them on the coffee table.
“You did good tonight you know,” Kijani said
“It definitely could have been worse,” Chantria replied.
Kijani sat on the sofa and picked one of the mugs of hemp tea to drink. “Nothing bad about it, your social calendar isfull, the canopy ladies like you and the men haven’t raised objections.”
Chantria continued standing by the coffee table. “Lord Awad didn’t seem too pleased.”
“That had nothing to do with you. He was pissed that someone screwed up in the Archives,” Kijani said, patting the seat beside him on the sofa signalling her to join him.
“I was going to get changed for bed first.”
“Be quick then, your tea will get cold.”
~*~
Kijani didn’t say a word when Chantria re-joined him in a white silk night dress and dark blue dressing gown some ten minutes later. Her tea would be lukewarm by now, but she took one long drink of the tea, still standing.
“Why don’t you join me on the sofa? We could listen to the voice-box for a bit before bed.”
Kijani nearly patted himself on the back as he watched his wife stare at the mantelpiece where the square box sat. With a turn of the black dial you could listen to a variety of music or dramas. Seemed like he’d found a tempting vice, and excuse, to get a little comfy with his wife.
“What’s on?” Chantria asked
Kijani picked the voice-box guide from the shelf beneath the tabletop. “There’s some crime thriller about a group of kidnapped girls that looks good, we missed the comedies. You couldn’t pay me to listen to a historical romance. The documentary about the canopy is nearly finished, and I’d be able to give you more accurate information.”
Chantria smiled. “In other words, you want to listen to the crime thriller, and I don’t really have an option?”
“Yes ma’am. So, are you going to join me?”
Chantria sighed dramatically. “I suppose I must.”
Kijani grabbed the red patchwork blanket off the back of the sofa and wrapped himself in it. He held one end of the blanket out toward Chantria. “It gets cold at night, want to turn on the radio to channel 4.3 and join me?” He asked again, reinforcing his request to join him on the sofa. Chantria was still standing, looking a bit lost. Her eyes went from him to the voicebox, but she turned on the voice-box and joined him under the blanket.
~*~
Over the next sacred two weeks after their wedding, Kijani worked with his wife to get her comfortable with intimacy. The first night they spent in each other’s arms and most of the day sleeping off their exhaustion, but Chantria was far more lethargic than he expected then he remembered that they didn’t have dinner yesterday… “Hey Chan, have you eaten today?”
She thought a moment. “No.”
If food is restricted for longer periods it’s possible for someone not to realise they are hungry. Kijani took over making breakfast from that day on, quietly set an eating schedule and dotted snack spots about the house.
The last thing Kijani wanted to do was force his wife into anything. So he broached the subject over dinner the next night. “Hey Chan?”
“Yes?” She replied, pushing the remaining bit of egg and plantain hash around the plate.
“Anything I can do to make you more comfortable in the bedroom?”
“I know we have to, but-“
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Kijani raised a hand. “It would be ideal if the kids came sooner, and there is outside pressure, but my athair and I can keep the parasites from the walls. We just have to be working toward what we need to be doing. So, what would make you more comfortable?”
She told him, and his exercise in restraint began. Chantria was tentative the second night, they sat in front of each other while she familiarised herself with his body. She ran her hands along the spiderweb of scars on his chest and abdomen, while he held himself back from tasting her skin. It ain’t his fault he hardened uncomfortably at the sight of her naked breast and touch.
His wife, however, withdrew at the sight. In the light of the candle, Kijani wasn’t sure, but she seemed to be shaking. “Chan? You ok?”
She curled away from him as if waiting to be struck… or more likely raped. He didn’t take her uncle as someone with any self-control. His stomach sank and he reached out a comforting hand, but Chantria flinched at his touch. He paused, his hand flat against her back and waited until she found his gaze. She looked perplexed.
Ash and stone, the woman genuinely thought I was going to jump her. “I ain’t going to hurt you. I ain’t perfect, but no man in their right mind would hurt their family like that.”
It took her longer than was normal to find his gaze and see the truth in what he said. A large part of Kijani’s frustrations with his wife, up until now, had come from her behaviour. It wasn’t her fault. He didn’t think in the direction of possible abuse, because there was next to no space in his city for any kind of inter-family abuse in any level of society. Children and family were the single greatest blessing and supporting the family unit was the central creed of Ash and the city of Divinity concentrated its efforts on learning about and supporting the welfare of families. It was unheard of, for a basic evolved trait, like finding the other half of their souls, to be inverted like this. He was forceful out of frustration, because this wasn’t normal.
He wanted and yearned for his wife, and the family he should have begun years ago. Had she been presented at the gatherings, like a normal woman at 16, he may have had Chantria in his house, under his protection nearly a decade ago. When you first meld, there is the natural urge to get closer and be more intimate. It was normal for her to want to spend time with him. Not avoid him at every turn, worried he may hurt her. That thought would never have crossed her mind. If things were normal, she would be working away at her business part-time, still as a very educated woman, but with three children tearing up the place by now. She would have been pregnant with their first child within months of their meld.
This isn’t normal! But it wasn’t his wife’s fault.
In the moments she looked into his eyes, he let her see the grief he had for what should have been their life. Then he shut it down just as quickly. He knew what his responsibilities were. He was supposed to be the protector of this family, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be tender with his family, but he darn well better guard that door for his wife and child.
Kijani pulled her in for a hug. He swore he could feel her racing heart against his chest. “Let’s stop there.”
Kijani, took the situation a few steps back. He spent the next week fostering physical contact and the evenings cuddling until she was used to his presence and touch. Her trust in him slowly built over that week. The only time she flinched now, was when he reached out to touch her from behind, but when they sat on the sofa she melted into his arms. It’s kinda cute.
The only interruption to their two week honeymoon was a note from Chantria’s uncle.
“Seems the household is still sick, but my uncle claims he called the doctor and they should be fully recovered next week,” Chantria said, eyeing the cream paper over her bowl of porridge.
“You believe him?” Kijani asked through a mouthful of scrambled egg.
She paused. That pause was alarming to Kijani. It was as if she were becoming a shell, she was so still. “Even Ayele doesn’t always lie, and we saw they were sick when we visited last week… He did capitulate to letting them visit us at a neutral location, and he will be presenting Liseli and Taraji at the gathering next month. He doesn’t want to have my sisters meet your brothers just yet. He says he thinks it would be nicer if they met at the gathering, but your brothers will get first look.”
“I served him the day before I picked you up. He’d have been arrested if he didn’t present your sisters.”
“I see,” Chantria said, taking another spoonful of her porridge.
Kijani was proud to say she was halfway through her porridge, and seemed to be eyeing up the eggs sitting on the counter top. He’d been worried about her appetite and was glad to see she was getting it back. “Figured, they were just catching whatever it was. In a family, when one person catches something, it’s gotta do the rounds.”
Chantria nodded. “I remember having to stay in hotels once or twice. Sickness goes around in spiritual facilities.”
“Your uncle can’t have been happy about it.”
“He wasn’t.” Chantria said.
Kijani thought it was better for his blood pressure not to pry for more information.
Under the circumstances, Kijani spoke to his athair briefly about his attempts to get his wife used to intimacy. He gritted his teeth throughout the entire conversation, but it was a necessary evil. His athair had the power to extend his leave and, for political and familial reasons, it was important for he and Chantria to get more intimate.
His athair took a few notes and tapped his pen on the notebook. “Would it be reasonable to send Chantria to a spirit healer?”
“She’s looking into it,” Kijani said.
“I mean one of ours.”
Kijani had been to a military spirit healer once. It was the worst thing he ever done. They were impatient in the name of efficiency, and it shook him to the core. He ended up putting himself on the waiting list for a public one. “No.”
“It would help with the investigation.”
“It ain’t going to help Chan.”
“I’ll call in a favour, and see if we can get her seen earlier.”
Kijani got his leave extended by two weeks, but, to his frustration, Chantria had to go back to work. She had work commitments, though he had talked her into raising her prices and pulling her hours back to a more reasonable level. He did this by calculating her previous hours out on a piece of paper, comparing it to the pay she asked for, and dividing it by hours worked.
His wife rarely let on how she was feeling, but Chantria said: “I will take a look at my schedule.”
~*~
Chantria sat in front of her aether scroll, but couldn’t concentrate on the letters in front of her. The last two weeks had been hard. She was caught between the animalistic urge to get closer to her husband, and the overwhelming flashbacks whenever he touched her intimately. The initial meld, and resulting state of limerence, was meant to result in a lot of bonding. She would likely be pregnant by now if all had gone by a natural process.
It was hard for Chantria to accept the consequences of Ayele on her psyche. Abuse often inverted someone’s desire to be close to others. Parental figures are the first and most significant examples one has of how the wider world will treat the individual. If the parental figures are abusive, volatile, or inconsistent… or a combination of all three, it’s likely the child will grow up not knowing what to expect from people. People are not meant to live in isolation. People need to bond and form community, and Chantria wanted that too, but her ability to connect was hampered by how unsafe it felt. She felt as if she were being pulled apart by the need to connect with her husband and new social sphere, and her need for safety.
Sighing, Chantria gave up on the manuscript and shot a glance at the clock on the kitchen wall. Kijani was at the gym, and would be for another half hour. The man had measured his arm circumference and was mortified at losing half an inch of muscle mass. It was an exercise in self-restraint for her not to burst out laughing.
I could start lunch? But she wasn’t in the mood. There has to be something I can do to push this in the right direction.
The problem was her anxiety and flashbacks. Maybe Hadiza can help?
Hadiza had been telling her all about her studies in pharmaceuticals and botany. She might be able to help me with… something.
Chantria turned off her aether-scroll and, for a second, wasn’t sure where to hide it. She shook her head. I don’t need to hide it, she thought, but decided to take her satchel with her, for peace of mind. Almost as an afterthought, she left a note on the hall table telling Kijani where she would be and when she would be back.