This oneshot fic takes place in Muarim's POV. I hope you all enjoy it.
My earliest memory is of cotton. Whenever I was upset or scared, I would hide; lose myself in the folds of my mother's skirt. The pale purple fabric may have seemed thin and worn to the casual observer, but the depths of its shadows had never failed to shelter me from the everyday horrors that plagued such a young child.
I can still remember the feel of the silky fibers sliding between my fingers, the terrible RIIIIP! Of snapping threads as the handful of cloth I grasped was torn away. I scrambled to grab more, but the tattered threads that remained about my mother's knees offered no anchor to cling to. My fingers scrabbled at them frantically, but I stopped as my mother lifted me up. Her long hair brushed against my cheek as she handed me over to the slave traders. Within two weeks I stood on the auction block alone, fearful tears pouring down my cheeks as I waited for someone to deign to bid on me. I was three years old.
When I was in my thirties, I was, at long last, given a name. As a young, strong tiger only just coming into his prime, I suppose it was finally decided that I deserved an identity of my own. Muarim, they called me, and I was pleased with it.
Throughout my youth, I was taught the purpose of my kind. The sub-humans, I learned, lived to serve the humans, the chosen of Ashera. Others of my kind couldn't understand this…they couldn't understand why I let myself suffer beatings and hard labor, but I knew. The Goddess, though she may not have favored us, the sub-humans, she offered our labor and servitude as a chance for redemption for our birth. The common sub-human defiance and hatred for the humans disgusted me to the very core of my being. Who were we, the lesser beings, to judge our superiors?
Even when slavery was done away with I could not forgive myself for my birth. No longer welcome in the city that had been my home, I hid in the desert. Adopting Tormod only increased my embarrassment at my origins. I took him in and cared for him as if he were my own son.
I can still remember the day he told me he wanted to help other sub-humans. Laguz, he said, but in my mind we were still sub-human. I was completely mortified at his suggestion. Why, I wondered, would he want to aid sub-humans?
He was still very young then, and even then I still could never tell him no.
"Muarim?" Tormod asked at my reluctance, "Why do you hate laguz so much?" His brown eyes were so full of sadness as he asked me. I heaved a deep sigh and sat down.
"Because, Tormod," I tried to explain, "I come from a savage people. Vicious. Hideous. And I don't want you to get hurt."
"I don't think your hideous, Muarim, I think green's pretty." He grinned reassuringly, rubbing one of my furry ears between his tiny fingers.
But despite my confusion at his motivation, Tormod's enthusiasm carried the two of us through the war with Daein into a Crimean victory. The Apostle and Prime Minister agreed with Tormod's ideas and invited him to help them fully eradicate sub-human slavery. His knowledge and passion for the cause, they claimed, was admirable for someone so young…a strange comment coming from the 10-year-old Empress of Begnion. Tormod assured me that I could go with him if I chose, but he still urged me to journey to Gallia, to reacquaint myself with my "own people". I knew I would miss him- I still thought of the boy as my own son- but I couldn't be in his way anymore. As much as I wanted to see if he would ever bring himself to doing more than stare at the Apostle when she wasn't looking (in his defense, I would guess it is very hard to confess feelings to the Empress of Begnion) it was time for him to see his dream come to fruition and time for me to stop avoiding other sub-humans. So I accompanied three others of the Beast Tribe as they returned to Gallia, the home country I had never seen.
Upon our arrival, Mordecai was called away immediately, while Lethe and Ranulf took pity on me and stayed, each seeming to think that I was partially their responsibility. I was grateful not to be left alone in a foreign land, surrounded by a people I still couldn't completely accept as mine. However, Ranulf and Lethe had jobs to attend to, and, especially after so long an absence, couldn't afford to be my guide. Instead, they chose another for that task.
"Maybe I'll finally make some progress with Kysha without Lyre here to distract him…" Ranulf said thoughtfully. The 'Lyre' he had mentioned approached languidly and I was shocked to recognize her. At least….at first glance she bore a striking resemblance to Lethe. Her hair was pulled back into a braid and she dressed in crimson, but the similarities were unmistakable.
"First time to Gallia, hm?" She asked as she led me back into the forest.
"Yes."
A few moments of silence passed.
"Quiet, aren't you?"
"Mm."
"Well…" She responded, easily picking her way between two trees, "You probably won't last long here. Too soft from living amongst the-" here she sniffed, "humans. Shame…"
Irritated, I stopped. "Beorc." I corrected tersely.
"Have it your way...Through here," She indicated a clearing occupied by what seemed to be a small house, "is where you'll be sleeping- that is- if you're not too good for sub-human housing." Although I didn't have any problem with the term itself, something about the way she said "sub-human" put me on edge.
Her taunting did not cease until she left for the evening, bidding me good night with a "see you in the morning, human-lover." My jaw hurt from gritting my teeth. I endured two more days of this abuse before I saw a friendly face again. Apparently Lethe and Ranulf had finally managed to get settled in again, so Ranulf came to check in on me when Lyre was gone.
"Good to see Lyre hasn't sliced you into ribbons yet," He smiled. Noting the way I bristled at her name, he added, "or vice versa…I came to tell you that I had an idea. You've been here a few days now, and I was thinking-"
Lethe, who had approached discreetly as he spoke, interrupted, "are you trying to take credit for my idea again?" Ranulf's right ear twitched nervously.
"Of course not, Lethe, I would never!"
Lethe merely harrumphed before turning her attention to me. "I was thinking that you might actually want a place of your own now. I mean, Ranulf and I would help build, and I know we could get some others, too. It wouldn't take long."
I almost declined, but on second thought, I accepted the rare selfless gesture.
"I'm sure Lyre showed you where I live, take tonight and find a place you like. Come get me at sunrise and we can get a group together."
"Why you?" Lethe growled, "It was my idea."
"Why not me?" Ranulf asked, stretching his arms over his head, his customary easy grin in place.
"Because -no matter what you say- there's no way you'll be up in the morning. You never are. And you're already too full of yourself as it is."
"Me? Full of myself? Says the cat who STILL can't admit to mistreating her sister when they were kids."
"Yeah? She dug frantically for a comeback. " And….and your hat is stupid!" For the first time since I had met him, Ranulf's smile faltered.
"Did….did you just insult my hat?"
"Yes." Lethe confirmed confidently, hands on her hips, evidently not realizing that this was some sort of below-the-belt blow. "I'm surprised it can fit around such a big head."
Ranulf nodded his head dejectedly and trudged away. Lethe and I stood in shocked silence.
"R-Ranulf?" Lethe called. When he didn't turn, she ran after him, "Ranulf?!"
I decided that I had seen enough and, since this didn't involve me, I started scouting out a building site.
Unlike beorc cities, Gallia was very spread out. There was a center for shops and the like, but homes were purposely distanced to allow for greater freedom and privacy.
Careful to maintain an appropriate distance from other homes, I finally selected a location. I purposely chose a spot far enough from the river that flooding would never be an issue. I would have to haul water for myself, but heavy lifting was something I didn't mind.
I slept fitfully that night, and as I mentally planned my new home, I was surprised I slept at all.
As instructed, I went to fetch Ranulf at sunrise, considering Lethe's comment and realizing I would probably have to wake him up. However, instead of the single sleeping cat I had expected, I burst in upon two.
Ranulf and Lethe were curled together atop a bed piled high with blankets. Both were fully clothed, but I still felt like I was intruding upon something private. I started to back out, but my shoulder knocked against the doorframe. Lethe's head shot up at the sudden sound, wearing an expression of shock and guilty embarrassment as she recognized me. Ranulf stirred beside her, sleepily grinning like the cat that ate the canary.
"G'morning Muarim." He murmured groggily.
"I am sorry."
"'s fine." He waved off my apology, "I toldja to come." Lethe, typically a commanding presence, stayed strangely silent, refusing to look at either Ranulf or me.
The beginning of a day of hard work helped ease the awkwardness of the morning. Ranulf and Lethe had come through on their promises- within an hour, a sizeable group of sub-humans had gathered to help with the construction. I was grateful for the help. To some extent, they reminded me of Largo, a beorc I had met during the war. They made the work easier, lightening the mood by constantly teasing one another and laughing freely. After suffering through days of Lyre's endless torment, I was relieved at their good nature. Maybe…Maybe these sub-humans were not so terrible.
At noontime, work was temporarily halted as the laborers ate. The laughter increased in volum and spirits soared. The strong scent of raw meat hung heavily in the air, but another was beginning to overpower it. This new scent caught my attention and my empty stomach lurched as the tantalizing scent grew stronger. Griled meat. I turned to see the source of this new smell; Lyre approached me, a large platter in her arms. Thick cuts of steak were piled onto the platter. She extended her arms, holding out the tray like an offering to me. The surrounding laughter died, and I assumed that they were as shocked as I by this sudden display of selflessness. As I took the platter from her, she turned and began to walk away.
"Thank you."
She nodded, her expression strangely…annoyed.
I lifted the first cut and tore a strip from it with my teeth. It was excellent. That first bite deepened my gratitude towards Lyre.
That is…until I felt a hand on my arm.
Ranulf stood beside me, stopping me from taking a second bite.
"Don't." He advised quietly. Lethe suddenly stood at my side, shaking in anger.
"How could she?!"
I could feel the eyes of all those behind me boring into my back.
"What is going on?" I asked.
"She offered you cooked meat." Ranulf explained.
I still could not see the problem.
"It is the greatest insult one Gallian can give another."
"Weak, she called you." Lethe clarified, "Unfit to be a laguz."
Unfit?!
My jaw clenched. I had never been so angry. Everything in my field of vision was swimming, veiled in crimson. My throat tensed, and a thunderous roar clawed its way out.
Lyre, who had continued her cocky retreat, froze at the sound. The platter of meat in my hand clattered to the ground as I surged forward toward the giver. The piece I had tasted was still clenched tightly in my left hand. I snatched her roughly by the shoulder and whirled her around to face me. I dangled the suddenly-offensive piece of meat out in front of her nose.
"Eat it." I growled furiously, my fingers digging into her shoulder.
Lyre, suddenly meek, tore off a mouthful and chewed it slowly, her lavender eyes never leaving mine.
My chest heaved. My anger still hadn't quite subsided, but the cat had given me nothing to react to.
Lyre swallowed, but continued to stare at me. My eyes were drawn to the deep scarlet of a single fat drop of blood that clung to her bottom lip. Without any conscious planning, I latched onto it. It wasn't even until I tasted the blood in my own mouth that I realized my lips were pressed to hers.
I pulled away, returning to my senses.
Lyre glanced up at me as I pulled away and I was even more shocked to see the pleased expression on her face. She looked positively smug.
Something struck me just then, as our lips met in another kiss.
For the first time in my life, I had experienced a moment of complete abandon. Throughout my few days in Gallia, it was Lyre who had worn down my defenses. Without my recognition, she had given me freedom from myself.
Lyre showed me something that day, something I have continued to treasure throughout my life.
The feel of finally releasing my anger, the taste of that first kiss.
When I would hear a purr of contentment in my ear.
When I brushed my hand over that life-changing swell in Lyre's belly.
She taught me The Beauty of the Beast.
So there you have it. I'd like to give a special thank you to MishaRose22 for LONG AGO inadvertently giving me the idea for the name of this fic.
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