<div align="center">Zahira Naqvi (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=93697.msg4086443#msg4086443) and Charles Lancaster (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=93697.msg4147939#msg4147939)</div><br/><div class="floatleft"><strong>Hijab</strong><br/>(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/hijab.jpg)</div><br/>Zahira waited at Alamut’s entrance. She wore silken robes of black and a black hijab, pulled over her face to reveal nothing but her glowing golden eyes. Black Arabian horses stood still at the ready, waiting for the command of the driver. The driver was a human servant, waiting to help with the next of the bags. The black carriage had already been loaded with two of Zahira’s simple bags, packed by servants, as well as Zahira’s coffin. It was a long, simple, rectangular black box. It was nothing ornate, but heavily lined and practical.<br/><br/>After a fitful day’s sleep Charles awakens about an hour before dusk. Lying on his cot he stares at the ceiling of his small chamber, dreading leaving his new home. With a sigh he finally rises up off the cot and goes through his rising ritual as if in a trance. Cleaned and dressed, he grabs his packed belongings and goes to meet Lady Naqvi as commanded.<br/><br/>Zahira pulled her black shawl tighter over her shoulders. She was a bit chilled from the night air, but she was more chilled from the memories of the argument she’d had with Lydia. Zahira shivered. Lydia had been none too happy with her. She looked over at the entrance in time to see Charles emerge with his belongings. The driver takes his belongings and loads them into the carriage as well.<br/><br/>Zahira and Charles load into the carriage, Zahira sitting opposite of Charles. They sat in silence for a couple of hours with Zahira staring out the window and replaying in her mind the fight she’d had with Lydia, and Charles trying not to stare at Zahira, casting nervous glances at her every so often. Zahira sighed and sat up straight.<br/><br/>“So, Charles. Tell me a little about yourself,” she asked, trying to get his mind off of anything unpleasant he may be thinking.<br/><br/>Charles’s jaw drops slightly at the lady's question. He is shocked by her interest in him; in all the time he had been in Alamut she had never shown the slightest interests in the ghouls - much less him. It goes from asking him for some simple help in the library, to him traveling with her and asking about his life.<br/><br/>After taking a deep breath, Charles replies, "Not much to say, my Lady. I am a student of archeology and have an aptitude for languages. What more do you need to know?"<br/><br/>Zahira wasn’t satisfied with that answer. It wasn’t long enough. So she proceeded to ask him how he came to be a ghoul, which led to further questions about his expeditions. She didn’t find anything he said to be too exciting, but she listened anyway, hoping to distract herself from her memories. A couple more hours passed as he described his life.<br/><br/>“I see. So you can, by chance, fill me in on what all has changed since the 1400’s?” she asked. She hadn’t thought until now that there could possibly have been changes. She removed the piece of her hijab covering her mouth and placed it below her chin. Her lush reddened lips, full of color, show that she’s obviously fed this evening.<br/><br/><div class="floatright"><strong>Arabian Horse</strong><br/>(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/arabhorse.jpg)</div><br/>He thinks for a moment 400 years is a long time, and recent history is really not his specialty. He starts filling her in on what he knows centuries that have passed by asking her questions to narrow down what she specifically wants to know about.<br/><br/>Zahira sits up and listens a bit more intently to this information. It has intrigued her a bit more than the previous conversation and she can’t help her eyes growing a bit wider at the mention of the various technological advances. The exchange also lends to his own curiosity about history, and he asks her some questions of his own. Hours pass this way and before they realize it, it has come time to rest for the day.<br/><br/>The servant pulls to an inn where they stay the night, Zahira taking care of all expenses. She buys three separate rooms, wordlessly gives the keys to her respective travelers, and gives a few extra coins to each for a couple hot meals. She takes her leave, the servant following her to her room to drop off her bags. The servant returns and he and Charles eat their breakfast in silence.<br/><br/>In her room, Zahira withdrew her kukri and walked over to the window. The first rays of the sun were want to peak over the horizon so she worked quickly. She poked her finger and etched a run on the windowsill. As long as the window remained close, no sunlight could get through the window for the next twenty four hours. After the Defense of the Haven ritual, she summons her strength and activates the Wake with Evening’s Freshness ritual, allowing her to wake readily if something were to disturb her room. Satisfied, Zahira lies down on top of the bed and drifts off to an uncomfortable sleep.<br/><br/>Finished with their breakfasts, both men retire to their respective rooms. Charles goes about his daily routine to get ready for bed.<br/><br/>The next two weeks happen in just about the same fashion. During the second week Zahira notices that Charles is looking a bit peaked and she realizes it’s time to feed him. Zahira allows him to go to breakfast so that she may go to her room and perform her rituals. Afterward, she waits by the door for Charles to come up the stairs. As he approaches his room weary from the night’s ride, she calls him to her room.<br/><br/>Zahira removes her hijab, letting her long black silken hair fall down her back. She gashed her wrist with one of her nails and walked toward Charles. She looked up at him as the blood pooled on her wrist and stroked his cheek. She took the back of his head and gently guided his mouth toward her wrist.<br/><br/>As she lets down her hair Charles really sees her beauty for the first time, but when she opens her wrist his attention is drawn completely to the blood welling up from the small wound as his addiction takes over his will. He has only been given this gift from much younger and weaker one before and cannot help but wonder what it will like coming from one as powerful. He is at first reluctant, but gives in to the need and curiosity and presses his mouth over the cut and drinks, trying to be easy and not take more than is being offered, but he is still young and inexperienced and begins to suck greedily.<br/><br/>Zahira is taken by surprise at the fervor in which he sucked on her wrist. A wave of passion rolled through her body and she dug her hand into his hair, taking ahold of a large handful. She gasps and allows him to drink a little longer, a little more than he should, before pulling him away.<br/><br/>Despite the feeling of her blood rushing in her veins, he is ashamed and she can see this in his eyes. It had been a long time since she’d had a non-vampire as a companion and she was surprised to note that she actually cared that this man was apologetic for drinking too deeply. She swooned and couldn’t help herself as she tumbled into his arms, her usual resolve in question.<br/><br/>Charles set her gently on the bed and backed out of the room, apologizing. He left for his room and went directly to bed. He struggled with sleep that night as adrenaline and power pumped through his veins.<br/><br/>The next couple of weeks happened about the same. They left their human servant in France and rode the steamboat to England, curiosity and fear of the boat apparent in her white knuckled grip on Charles’s arm. It was only slightly alleviated when the poor man began to whimper.