Author's Note: I wrote two versions of this chapter. The first, posted here, is a relatively clean version. The second, which can be found at my LiveJournal, is definitely rated M. This story, in general, is meant for more mature readers, but I didn't want to post such an explicit chapter (even though it's a short scene) here. If you would like to read the nice and smutty version, go here: http:// irishsongbird. livejournal. com/ (Obviously, remove the spaces.) That being said, enjoy chapter twelve...

Chapter Twelve

Zahara quietly slipped into her bedroom, leaving the door open a crack so she could hopefully hear what was happening downstairs. Aydin, as if he sensed something important was occurring, stayed silent in Zahara’s arms, his chubby hands gripping the fabric of her robes. Before long, she heard the sound of boots entering the kitchen, a step that she knew very well. Before he even spoke, she knew it was her father. This had to be the very worst thing that could have happened. Her heart sank as she realized all at once that her chances of escaping now were slim. She was close to bursting into tears, but she knew she could not. She hugged Aydin close to her chest and buried her face in his little shoulder, trying to get a hold of herself. Fear was slowly snaking through her body as she wondered what in the world prompted her father to come here in the first place. Did he know about Edmund? Had Mahtab betrayed her?

There were muffled voices coming from the kitchen and Zahara was desperate to know what they were saying. She put Aydin in his crib and he stood watching as she quickly adjusted her veil and headwrap, which she still wore during the day around the slaves. Only when she and Edmund were alone at night did she feel secure enough to take it off and even though it was her father downstairs, she still didn’t know whether she should go down or not. Technically, no one was supposed to see her right now, not even her own father. She didn’t want to behave in any way that would make him suspicious, but she also didn’t want him alone with her slaves for too long. It seemed she trusted no one anymore.

Soft steps that Zahara recognized as either Mahtab’s or Malia’s were ascending the stairs and Zahara turned towards the doorway, anticipating the worst. Mahtab slowly pushed the door open, a guilty look on her face.

“Oh, Tarkheena, it is all my fault he is here…I’m sorry…I did not know he would come.”

Zahara took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions. “Did you tell him about Sir Kerrick, Mahtab? Does he know?”

Mahtab quickly shook her head. “No! No, Tarkheena. Please, let me explain!” Mahtab, in an uncharacteristic gesture, took Zahara’s hand and led her to the bed, where they both sat anxiously.

“You see, Tarkheena, before we left Tashbaan, your father asked me, as a favor to him, if I could write to him occasionally, letting him know how you are. You know you are his favorite daughter and he was worried about you being unhappy. I wrote before you found Sir Kerrick and said that you were, indeed, quite lonely, but doing well. I never expected him to come see you! It is against every rule!”

Zahara sighed and nodded. She almost laughed at the irony – as a child, she had taught Mahtab how to read and write as she was learning herself, just a little girl pretending to play teacher with another girl who was almost the same age. Later, she recognized that Mahtab was one of the few slaves in all of Tashbaan who knew how to do such a thing. Her father had obviously used it to his advantage. Zahara never dreamed the act would come back to haunt her in such an unexpected way.

“He is the Grand Vizier, Mahtab. He can do whatever he wants.” They were both quiet for a few moments as Zahara tried to think of a plan of action. “Does he want to see me now?”

“Yes. He said that whenever you are ready, you should come downstairs. He is waiting in the parlor.”

Zahara hoped there was no evidence of Edmund’s presence anywhere else in the house, but she couldn’t be sure. They had been careless, never thinking that anyone would arrive to check on Zahara, least of all her father.

Zahara stood and smoothed the front of her robes. “Alright. I’ll go downstairs now. Please keep Aydin occupied, Mahtab.”

Zahara raised her head high and left the room, concentrating on walking with the usual grace and confidence she possessed in Tashbaan. She glanced at Edmund’s closed door before descending the stairs and wished she could be in there with him, shut away from the rest of the world forever. She turned at the bottom of the steps and slowly made her way to the parlor, stopping in the doorway as she gazed at her father, standing at the window with his hands clasped behind his back. Zahara blinked back tears as she realized his pose was almost exactly like Edmund’s, which had become so familiar over the last few weeks.

“Father?”

Ahoshta turned and looked at his daughter, his smile just for her lighting up his face. “My daughter, my joy. You look as beautiful as ever.”

Zahara crossed the room to stand next to him, not sure whether she should embrace him or not. These were new rules he was creating and Zahara thought it best to let him take the lead. Whatever he wanted, she would do. “Father, delight of my eyes, of course I am happy to see you! But what are you doing here?”

Ahoshta reached out and patted her shoulder. Though he had always been quite affectionate with words, once Zahara was no longer a child any type of physical affection made him uncomfortable. “Your slave informed me that you were quite lonely here by yourself. For anyone else, I would not care, but I cannot bear the thought of you being unhappy, my darling.”

Zahara felt her chest tightening. She loved her father, even if she didn’t agree with all of political actions, and his concern for her well being was unexpected. She felt a sudden longing for simpler times, when she was just a small child and could fit on his knee, unaware of places like Narnia or what an overwhelming, all consuming passionate love felt like. This love for Edmund could destroy her.

“I am touched, Father, that you would break the traditional rules of mourning to come see me. I do miss you.”

Ahoshta gestured to the couch, where they both sat. “Well, I did have business to attend to in town, and I decided my conscience would not rest, knowing what I know, if I did not make sure my favorite daughter was doing well when I was so close. Tell me, Zahara, are you truly very unhappy here?”

Zahara hesitated. “I am…lonely. I do not have anyone to talk to besides the slaves and I’m afraid Aydin is going to have difficulty re-adjusting once we go back to Tashbaan. It will be such a harsh change from the quiet solitude here.”

Ahoshta nodded and said sympathetically, “It is understandable that you would miss Rasheed. This year away will allow you to properly grieve his loss, though, Zahara, and be ready to accept another man into your life when you return.”

Zahara felt bile rise up in her throat. Missing Rasheed wasn’t what she meant at all, but of course it was the first thing her father thought of. Tears of frustration filled her eyes and she looked quickly away.

“I’m sorry, daughter. I should not have spoken his name. The pain will go away soon, though, I promise.” Ahoshta awkwardly patted her back.

Zahara nodded, her throat too tight to speak. Of course he would misunderstand her so drastically. They sat in silence for several minutes until Zahara finally spoke.

“Thank you for coming, Father. It is good to see a familiar face. How long will you stay?” Zahara made herself sound hopeful that it would be a long visit, but silently begged him to say he was leaving right away.

“I think I will stay for a few days. This has hardly been enough of a visit and I haven’t even seen my grandson yet. Where is he?”

Zahara’s heart dropped. There was no way out. “He is…um…” she shook her head, trying to clear it. “Well, I suppose he is upstairs with Mahtab. I will go get him.”

Zahara rose and hurried from the room, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. The situation was hopeless.

***

Zahara sat quietly in the parlor while Ahoshta played with Aydin for an hour or so. She realized quickly that her father still thought her traumatized by the death of her husband and automatically assumed any sign of distress on her part could be attributed to that. It allowed her to wallow in her real grief for the man sitting quietly upstairs without giving herself away. With her father staying in the house for at least two days and their planned escape just a few hours away, Zahara knew she would not be leaving with Edmund. She still believed that he could safely sneak away in time to board the ship, but she knew that as soon as her father realized she was gone, there would be a massive search. She could not jeopardize the safety of Narnia’s king by being so selfish. She would not be the cause of a war between two countries.

The hours ticked slowly by and Zahara grew more and more anxious. She barely touched the elaborate dinner Mahtab and Malia prepared in honor of her father’s presence and felt sickened from what she did consume. Her despair only grew deeper with each minute that she wasn’t able to see Edmund, yet she also wanted to freeze time so that she could always live with the knowledge that he was only a few steps away.

Her father retired fairly early after trying unsuccessfully to engage her in conversation, leaving the room only after giving Zahara a long and searching look. She knew his concern was genuine and the knowledge that she could never share with her father her true cause of sadness left her even more hopeless. Her world would be full of secrets and regrets from now on, when it had never been before.

Zahara waited for an hour after her father went to bed before she entered the kitchen and found Mahtab already gathering extra bread, fruit, and cheese into a small sack for Kerrick. Zahara’s eyes filled with tears and she quickly looked away. She hadn’t even needed to ask Mahtab to do this. The slave already knew what was going to happen next.

“I am sorry, Tarkheena. I did not mean for this to happen.”

“I know, Mahtab. I don’t blame you. Please have Abbas saddle two horses and accompany Sir Kerrick to town. Abbas needs to be back here before dawn, with nothing amiss so my father has no suspicions.” Zahara took the sack of food from Mahtab with a small, resigned smile and quietly climbed the stairs. She had been careful to put her father downstairs in a room on the opposite side of the house so that she and Kerrick would be less likely to be overheard. Ahoshta’s location and tendency towards heavy sleep were all that guaranteed Edmund’s escape now. Zahara would be sleeping in her own bed, alone, from now on.

The house was deathly quiet as Zahara tapped on Edmund’s door. She waited a few seconds and then whispered, “It’s me, Edmund. Open the door, please.”

Within a few seconds, the door creaked open and Zahara slipped inside. Edmund immediately took her by the arms and gripped her tightly. “It’s your father, isn’t it?”

Zahara swallowed around the rising lump in her throat and nodded. “Yes. He’s staying for a few days. He doesn’t know anything about you.”

Edmund let go of Zahara and ran his hands through his hair, beginning to pace. Zahara quickly reached out to stop him. “Shhh, we need to be quiet. He is asleep downstairs.”

Edmund turned and looked at her. “What does this mean exactly?” Zahara could tell from the look on his eyes that he already knew the answer to his question, but was desperately hoping for another answer.

“You know what it means, Ed…”

He shook his head and took her again by the arms. “No. You’re leaving with me,” he said fiercely.

“You know I can’t, Ed. I can’t take the chance of my father finding us before we make it to the ship. I can’t be the cause of you never getting back to Narnia. I can’t make it, I can’t…” She drew a shaky breath and leaned forward against Edmund. He drew her tightly to him, reaching up to unclasp her veil and remove the headwrap, freeing her hair. He began kissing her forehead, her eyes, her lips, and her neck, running his tongue along her jaw. His actions felt desperate, matching her own feelings of despair.

“I can’t leave you behind, Zahara. I won’t do it. I’ll take the chance of getting caught, but we have to try.” Zahara heard the tears in his voice and squeezed her eyes shut, letting the sack of food fall to the floor.

“You have to leave me, Edmund. You know you do.”

Edmund pressed his lips against hers, coaxing her mouth open, but he spoke no more words of protest. Zahara wrapped her arms around his neck as they backed up against the wall and she made a halfhearted “shhh” sound to try and remind him to be quiet. She wasn’t thinking, for now, about having to say goodbye, only about making love to this man she’d fallen in love with so quickly and completely.

As Edmund’s lips moved over her body, Zahara felt like she was inside of her dream again and when she opened her eyes, she could almost see the glow of the Narnian fires in the distance. It was so intense she thought she might catch fire at any moment, and she moaned in protest when Edmund stepped away. Zahara could hear herself whimpering, but it was almost an out of body experience.

Edmund’s eyes were black and wild as he pulled Zahara’s robes and undergarments from her body and she felt the loss of his warmth acutely, reaching out to pull him back against her as quickly as possible. It was his turn to gasp and he leaned heavily against her for a moment, his hot breath on her neck. He pushed her back against the dresser and Zahara winced as she propped herself against it, sending a few books clattering noisily to the floor.

“We have to be quiet,” she whispered. She kissed him to stifle his moans as tears ran down her face, mingling with Edmund’s as they made love for the last time. They tried to move slowly, but Zahara soon felt the familiar coiling inside of her stomach.

All too quickly, it was over. Zahara had never felt so desperate, so alone, and so hopeless. Her sobs were silent as she clung to him, even as she knew she needed to let him go, that he was running out of time to get to safety. They may have already woken Ahoshta by being so careless.

“I’m sorry, Zahara, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t apologize. Please. Don’t apologize for anything.” Zahara wiped her tearstained face and kissed him roughly. “I’ll never regret this. It’s just…not meant to last. Your Aslan must have other plans for me.” Zahara gave him a watery smile, trying to comfort him. He looked distraught.

“I’ll find you, Zahara, and I’ll bring you to me. This won’t be over, this isn’t it,” he said firmly.

Zahara shook her head and pressed her hand over his mouth. “No. Listen to me. I won’t let you risk it. I won’t be the cause of a war between Narnia and Calormen. I will not put my son in that kind of danger, Edmund. They wouldn’t hesitate to use him against me and I can’t take that chance…don’t look for me. Don’t write to me. Don’t come back to Calormen, Ed, ever. Find someone else, get married, be happy…please. Please, I want to know you’re alive and happy…” Zahara kissed him again to stop his protests, letting him cry into her chest for several minutes.

When Edmund finally calmed and straightened, he looked every ounce a king again, his expression steadfast and determined. “I don’t want to do what you ask, Zahara. I don’t want to. I will because I love you and I love Aydin and I don’t want you in any more danger than you already are. But Zahara, all you ever have to do is send word and I will find a way to get to you. I will not abandon you and I will not forget you. You can’t ask me to.”

Zahara managed a small smile and nodded. “I love you, Edmund. Thank you...for everything.” He kissed her one more time, slowly and deeply, then stepped back and began pulling his clothes on quickly.

“You be careful. Keep yourself safe,” he said sternly. “I can do this if I know you’re safe.”

Zahara nodded and pulled her robes back on haphazardly. “I will. I promise.” She reached down and picked up the bag of food, handing it to him. “Abbas is waiting for you with a horse. He’ll go with you to town, then come back here before dawn with both of the horses so my father won’t suspect anything. But you have to go now so he can make it back in time.” Zahara blinked back more tears that were forming in her eyes. “Be quiet leaving the house. I know you can make it back to Narnia.”

Edmund smiled sadly and nodded, gripping the food. They stood staring at each other, memorizing every detail. Edmund leaned in one more time and kissed her, then pulled away and turned quickly, slipping through the door as quietly as a ghost.

Zahara stood frozen, staring at the spot where she had last seen him for what seemed like days. She never heard him leave the house, but she knew he was gone. There was no air left, there was no light left, there was no hope left…at least not for tonight. Tomorrow she would pull herself together. Tomorrow was a new day and she would get up and put a smile on her face for her son. For tonight, though, she didn’t want to think.

Finally, Zahara turned and shuffled mechanically to the bed she and Edmund had shared so many times. She crawled under the covers, laid her head on his pillow and inhaled deeply, surrounded by his smell. He would be nothing more than a ghost now, a memory of another time and place, a constant reminder of what could have been and should have been. Still feeling him all around her, Zahara fell into a restless sleep.

Whoooooooo, part one of LTTOR is officially done! WOW!

Thank you, BIG time, to rthstewart, for helping me with this chapter. I would have freaked without her.

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