You have always approached everything terrible trustfully. You have wanted to pet every monster.

— Friedrich Nietzsche

✵

Him

His eyes fixate on the scar stretching down his shoulder over his upper arm. He traces a finger over it, stuck between the two worlds-- one with and the other without her-- before tilting his head to run his tongue along the healing wound where her dagger had cut him. Such ferocity in her attack, his wound still burns as if raw, just like his love for her. That woman will forever be the queen of his heart.

He grins to himself as he kisses the corner of the scar she has given him, his lips grazing it full length in a feather caress before he pulls back.

"You think you're crazy in love, Buraq? But look at me. Who thought a woman with spellbinding eyes will bring a villain like me to his knees? Sorceress, isn't she?" He laughs.

Her

"Annas!"

The stable is lined with horses on both sides of her as she walks with Eskander towards a man feeding one in a stall. He looks in their direction at Eskander's call.

"Prepare my horse," Eskander orders. "Prepare one for the lady too."

"Can I have the same one I rode here on with Adam?" Noura requests.

"I don't know which one it was, azizem."

"It was gray with white spots on it."

Eskander chuckles at her description and then motions the man over. He comes to stand in front of them, eyes downcast.

"Annas, which horse did Adam take with him from the palace besides his own when he left for Isfahan?"

A few minutes later, Annas has prepared for Eskander his horse and the same one for Noura she had asked for. She lovingly pets its mane and grins joyously.

"I still haven't name him," she says and Eskander arches an eyebrow at her.

"You want to?"

"Uh huh. I asked Adam and he said I can." She turns to look up at Eskander as he steps closer to her, holding the reins of his horse. "His mare is named Hayat. She's a beautiful one."

"Yusuf bin Khalid had a pair, a black stallion and a white mare, named Buraq and Hayat," he tells her. "Hayat was the last gift of the caliph to his wife before he was dethroned. Queen Arwa refused to keep it after her husband and gifted the horse to Adam instead."

"Oh." Noura doesn't know what to say in reply to the information. It sounds like a tragic love story the ending of which isn't to her likings. "What about the stallion?"

"It disappeared after the caliph."

Eskander helps her mount the horse and she takes the reins. "That's sad," she replies and he nods in response.

"It was the most beautiful stallion I've had ever seen in my life," he adds. "Beastly, almost unlike a horse."

Her heart skips a beat at the detail and her mind instantly jumps at the horse she had seen at the dusk of the theft. The man who had the caliph's seal also had the same stallion-- the beastly kind she had never seen before. Though the thought might sound absurd, she decides to mention it to Eskander no matter if only a coincidence. But before she can, the stable keeper calls to him.

"Sayidi (sir)?"

Eskander turns towards him, his attention taken away from her. "Yes, Annas?"

"The messenger has left a letter for you."

"Is it from my mother?" he asks and Noura feels a spark of bliss at the possibility of hearing back from her mother before Annas kills her hope.

"No, sayidi, it's from your friend, Al Hadi."

Eskander dismisses him with a wave of his hand. "Keep it. I'm going to the bazar. I'll meet him on my way back home."

Annas tips his head and steps back. Eskander mounts his horse, guiding it outside. He snaps the reins and Noura follows his lead. Soon, both of them are riding down the dusty trails of Baghdad in the bright, sunny afternoon.

Nostalgia is a ruthless creature. It will sleep in the deepest recesses of you, still and unmoving, letting you live and believe you're free, until at some point in life when it bares its teeth at you after only a single glimpse of the past-- something so weak that its touch is only a graze, but enough to wake up the monster that can devour you.

Passing through the streets of her hometown, Noura feels falling prey to the said monster too. Her eyes well up with tears, suddenly all the memories becoming a flash that blinds her. She blinks, trying to clear her vision, balming the cracks in her soul that are breaking apart again, the stitches coming undone after years of her trying to hold them together. So long later, she finds herself failing.

"Nour?" Eskander calls her as their horses trot to a stop. His gaze lingers on her and she tries to smile against her anguish.

"So much has changed," Noura comments. "But it still feels like home."

He doesn't say anything and dismounts his horse, coming forward to offer her his hand. She takes it and he helps her get down, not letting go of her hand. She doesn't pull back either, staring up into the pupils that sink the ships of her damned emotions. This man will be the death of her.

They leave their horses in a stand and make their way towards the bazar. It seems to have spread as far as her sight can take her. Everywhere around them traders have set up stalls, selling things from food and clothes to jewelry and other items. Eskander leisurely walks by them, throwing a glance at each, as if searching something of interest but getting disappointed. Noura does the same, only that unlike him, she finds everything appealing to her.

"What are we looking for?" she finally asks him.

"Something worthy of you."

Her heart leaps berserkly at his statement. Her palms start sweating and she wonders if he can feel it from her hand in his, embarrassed at the thought. His touch alone is enough to ignite her skin and leave burning marks there. Her fingers twitch in her nervousness and she contracts them. Eskander takes it as a signal of letting go of her hand and he releases it. She regrets as soon as their contact ends. Once more, Noura finds her guilt resurfacing at the feelings she's nurturing for this man. This man might very well be oblivious to the world she's building in her head with him.

He stops at a stall and she turns to see what has caught his eye. There are elegant ornaments laid before them, jewelries studded with gemstones and of simple gold, of all types from headpieces and necklaces to whatnot.

"Which one do you like, azizem?"

Eskander asks, his gaze still scanning the beautiful pieces on display. She takes a moment to study them, the woman in her shivering in anticipation, knowing she cannot choose only one to like among them all.

"I don't know. What do you think?" Noura gives the choice to him instead.

He hums, his fingers hovering over the jewelry. He picks up a gold anklet, two golden chains coming to unite at a hook with a crescent moon hanging from it. Noura only grins at him, exhilarated, as if floating with him in heaven.

"Ah, you've great taste, sayidi. This comes from the best goldsmiths of Baghdad. I've only a single piece left," the seller brags, trying to get them to buy it.

"Is it so?" Eskander smirks, not letting his eyes waver from it.

"Yes, sayidi, and your wife seems to like it too. It will look perfect on her."

Noura blushes at the seller's remark, but Eskander totally disregards it without bothering to correct him. He simply kneels down in front of her on one knee, patting his thigh, gesturing for her to put her foot there. Her blush deepens at his suggestion of putting the anklet around her ankle for her himself.

Shyly, Noura takes off one of her shoes and puts her foot on his thigh, lifting her dress only slightly so he can lock the jewelry around her ankle. Eskander does so nimbly, his agile fingers skillfully securing it in place before letting go of her. He smiles up at her and she loses herself to him for the hundredth time that day. Noura returns his smile and lowers back her foot.

"Mahe-man (my moon)," he stands up and whispers only for her to hear before addressing the seller. "We'll take it."

He tells them the price and Eskander pays him in gold coins while Noura frantically tries to keep her wild heart caged all along and not leap out at the man charming her. They leave the stall and are once more trolling through the bazar. Noura cannot get her head out of the clouds, giddy, chewing her lip so as to contain the silly grin splitting her face every now and then. She prays for Eskander not to notice her acts of stupidity.

"You know," she begins slowly, "before I was brought here, I went to the bazar after the incident with the thief." Eskander falls into steps with her, keeping his strides small so as to walk side by side with her. "He stole the pendent baba gave me, and I was so used to having it around my neck that the empty feeling without it wouldn't let me be at rest. So I decided to replace it with something else."

Eskander's gaze flicks down to her neck, as if only now noticing it bare, before back up to her face. "Did you find something you like then?"

"I did. It was a crescent moon pendent like this anklet you've bought me, only that the moon was carved out of crystal."

"Did you buy it?"

She shakes her head. "It was expensive and I didn't have enough money with me for it," she admits honestly.

Eskander halts midway and so does she, looking at him in confusion. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.

"What?" Noura questions, perplexed.

"That you wanted a pendant." He turns back around. "Come, I'll buy you one."

"No, Eskander, there's no need," she rushes to refuse, flustered at him taking it the wrong way. "That's not what I meant. Besides, I like the anklet better."

"I still want to get you a pendant. Your neck looks bare without it. I'm used to seeing you wearing one."

Noura hooks her hand in the crook of his elbow, tugging him forward with her. "You've already bought me a gift. That's enough."

"I insist, Nour." He frees himself of her. "I know I can't get you the same pendant baba gave you, but at least it'll still be something to adorn your neck."

She purses her lips, unable to argue anymore. "Alright."

"Do want me to choose again or do you want to pick it yourself?"

"I trust you with it."

He smiles and gestures in the direction of another stall. "How about you go and select daggers for us?"

Noura chuckles and nods. "I like the sound of it."

"Find good ones, janem, sharp enough to pierce breastbone and get to the heart."

"That's a very sinister specification."

"I've people like Muawwiz in my life who needs it."

She laughs at his dark humor and turns to go towards the stall. "I'll search for something up to your standards."

"Don't stray from here," he instructs. "I cannot be looking for you like a madman in this crowd."

They part their ways, going in the opposite directions. Noura glances over her shoulder at Eskander and finds him having disappeared among the people already. Distracted, she runs into someone and quickly takes a step back, startled. The other person stumbles and the small clay pot he's carrying falls to the ground, breaking, and the milk in it spilling over the mud. Noura watches with dread the event unfolding before looking up at the man in apology.

"I am so sorry."

He keeps staring at the spilled milk, holding a half piece of bread in his other hand, dressed in plain tunic and a worn out cloak over it. From his garments, she gathers he's poor if not a beggar. The thought upsets her further for her absent-mindedness and spilling his food. To add more to her shame, she realizes she doesn't have money with her to pay the man. So she decides to wait for Eskander to recompense him.

"I will buy you more milk," she offers ruefully and the man finally looks up at her.

It is the color of his eyes that stuns her first, then numbs her as it drags her from the present to a nameless past, abandoning her in a time she has no knowledge of. A strong sense of familiarity grasps her, telling her she has seen those orbs before, the mismatched color of one being blue and the other brown. Yet no matter how much she tries, she cannot put her finger on where his threads connect to the angles of her life. So she just stares back at him, flabbergasted, miserably failing at matching the dots.

"I... Uh..."

He turns his back on her and starts walking away.

"Wait!" Noura tries to stop him but he blends among the people and goes out of her sight.

She remains rooted to her spot, still lost in her thoughts, only the eyes of the man carved on her memory while the rest of his features she couldn't register, too focused on his orbs to do so, until someone appears beside her.

"Nour?"

She comes out of her reverie at Eskander's voice and looks up at him. He tilts his head, asking an unspoken question in concern, and her shoulders slump in defeat.

"I spilled a poor man's milk," she utters weakly.

"Ah, who?"

"I don't know. He left."

"Well, let me know if you see him again. I'll pay him for the milk." He nods towards the stall and gives her a one-sided, playful smile. "Let's buy daggers now. Your pendant is a gift you'll have to wait for."

And just like that, Eskander makes her forget about the rest of the world as she continues living the moments with him.

Later that evening, a man from Eskander's troop comes to meet them at the bazar. Eskander introduces him as Hafez to her, and she's sent to the palace back with him while he stays behind to meet a friend of his.

"Guard her with your life. No harm shall befall her," Eskander had briefed him. It was the warning he had given him which had fallen heavy upon her ears. "Don't forget that I'm an unforgiving man. I won't make exceptions for you in case of any mistake."

Nonetheless, he had bidden her goodbye with the same tenderness she knows him for and Noura returns to the palace with Hafez. She watches the sunset from her balcony, sitting by chair and replaying the day in her head over and over again. Inside her chest is a bubble of ecstasy swelling and bursting every time her eyes fall on her anklet. She keeps grinning to herself, heedless of the workers of the palace bringing her meal, changing her sheets, or even saying anything to her to which she's unmindful.

It's well dark outside and the stars have appeared when she leaves the balcony and comes inside her room. Eskander probably still hasn't returned. She finds the food tray lying on the table at the foot of the bed, and along with it is a small jewelry box. Noura goes to pick it up and turn it around in her hands, appreciating the elegant design of it. Her thoughts still for a moment before they swim back to Eskander, and another smile kisses her lips.

Did he decide to gift her the pendant tonight? But he had asked her to wait for it. Maybe he had a change of heart.

Elated and skittish, she opens the box with shaky fingers and finds a pendant lying in it-- the pendant she had liked in the bazar of Isfahan but couldn't buy and which she hasn't seen here today at the bazar of Baghdad. Her breath hitches in her throat.

How can Eskander find her the exactly same jewelry?

✵

Noura and Eskander, yes or no?

The pendant is from Eskander, yes or no?

Who's the stranger with mismatched eyes?

Leave me your thoughts and love (:

✵