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I still remember the first time she took me. We raced carelessly across the plains, even with the advantage she caught up to me with ease and lifted me in her arms so high I felt like flying. She let my hair down for it to play in the breeze, unraveled the bothersome layers covering my body so we could dance naked under the moon, the clicking of my jewelry and the cheer of our voices creating a tune that will only be ours.
There was no shame in being bare in the open fields as she was the Khan of all the sun touches and the stars kissed, the world was our bedchamber and for our blankets the sky. She baptized me in the endless stream of her lips that bathed my shores in hues of pink and red. The khan took my hands in hers and guided them through the all encompassing scarred landscape of her body. Sang poetry and praise to me as I worshiped the wetness between her thighs as she did with mine.
The Warhawk pinned me down with the swift skill a bird of prey does a mouse, straddling her ever powerful figure over the spread center of my pleasure. Leaving no doubt who owned me as I was ridden with the ferocity one subdues a wild stallion into submission until all I could think of was my Khan, the veil of stars framing her and the ones she ignited inside me.
We laid in the grass, bodies intertwined in a holy vow to never be apart again. Soothed into sleep by the smells of aged leather, motor fuel and wildflowers.
It still surprises me how vivid some of my memories still are after so many years. I am the first wife but there was a time when I was the last wife. Young and wide eyed I was welcomed into a family of older brothers and sisters I didn’t share blood with, countless daughters I never gave birth to.
‘The Radiant Wife’, she named me, ‘Just as the light unravels shadows so does your smile onto pains my heart haunt’, Jaghatai said; I hadn’t been told anything like that, so I believed her.
A new spouse came and I became ‘older sister’ for them, following our beloved wherever her path took her, we still do.
This has been her longest hunt I have the memory of. ‘The webway’ they call this place, my Jaghatai’s prey? The Xenos dressed in black and pain. We the spouses have had to say goodbye to several older brothers and sisters as time caught up with them, we the family had to grieve many daughters who lived and died by the blade. But also welcomed new ones in the exotic stops around our path.
Our Khan of khans is not only hunting xenos, we believe she hunts a bigger prey that is still unknown to us but we’ll follow her to it anyways.
‘Oldest sister’ the rest of the spouses call me, in their naivete I am to guide them, in their aggressions I am to strike truces, and in their inexperience I am to mark the example.
“Oldest sister” I let my voice speak into the night at the same time I oversee our camp in the distance. The Webway has guided us to a new planet to settle at, at least for the moment as our Khan is a woman of movement. How long has it been since we started our hunt? My hair was still a silken curtain of black when Jaghatai laid her head on the late Forge Husband’s bountiful chest and cried about betrayal. Now my head is crowned by snow white like a winter hare.
Time is hard to track in this place. By the way my face wrinkles and the skin of my body sags, how the joints ache in the morning and my breast has lost its bounce: I may say I am in my mid 60s or early 70s, but I am not the only one that has felt it’s been much longer.
“Börte, my golden flower, what has made you stand alone in the cold of night?” There was my hawk, as glorious as the first day she laid eyes on me save some frown lines.
“I thought the Fourth Spouse, Graceful Husband, and Fifth Spouse, Eloquent Wife were entertaining you tonight with song and dance, my Khan.” I answered politely as she sat by me, her arms dragging me into her embrace.
“You are angry at me.” She said, her breath smelled like kumis.
“Why do you think so, my Khan?”
She smiled, her black eyes enthralling me like no spell by any Sorcerer ever could.
“You always use my titles instead of my first name in private when there’s something bothering you.”
She was right, oh my Jaghatai whose guile has always brought me into defeat. Have I ever had a choice? The day she conquered my homeworld we bent our knees to our new masters bringers of blood and flame. The moment she lifted my brow from the ashen remains of my home it was clear I had been long claimed.
There was my conqueror, sole owner of my soul.
“I’m just nostalgic, my Jaghatai” I half lied. “Eloquent Wife reminds me of a mix of my late older brother, Cunning Husband and… me when I was in full bloom.”
“Does my Börte think she has withered and dulled in my eyes?” She turned me around on her lap to face her, my arms finding support on the strength of her bare shoulders. “What is eloquence in the darkness where there is nothing to rhyme about? It is brightness that uncovers the shadows and shows the wonders that could be put into song.” I went from intoxicating in the leftover taste of kumis in her lips to prancing down hill by her hand. “Come with me my Börte, my Radiant Wife, as I am blind in the dark without a light.”
We raced carelessly across the plains, even with the advantage she caught up to me with ease and lifted me in her arms so high I felt like flying. She let my hair down for it to play in the breeze, unraveled the bothersome layers covering my body so we could dance naked under the moon, the clicking of my jewelry and the cheer of our voices creating a tune that will only be ours.
There was no shame in being bare in the open fields as she was the Khan of all the sun touches and the stars kissed, the world was our bedchamber and for our blankets the sky. She baptized me in the endless stream of her lips that bathed my shores in hues of pink and red. The khan took my hands in hers and guided them through the all encompassing scarred landscape of her body. Sang poetry and praise to me as I worshiped the wetness between her thighs as she did with mine.
The Warhawk pinned me down with the swift skill a bird of prey does a mouse, straddling her ever powerful figure over the spread center of my pleasure. Leaving no doubt who owned me as I was ridden with the ferocity one subdues a wild stallion into submission until all I could think of was my Khan, the veil of stars framing her and the ones she ignited inside me.
We laid in the grass, bodies intertwined in a holy vow to never be apart again. Soothed into sleep by the smells of aged leather, motor fuel and wildflowers.