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Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Spells wizzed past my ear. Sirus' voice is loud at my side, "Good one, James!"

I almost freeze. James? Doesnt he know its me? Or does he just see my dad?

Its not his fault! He was in Azkaban for twelve years. The dementors did this, its not his fault.

I grit my teeth, shooting a leg-locking jinks at the larger LeStrange man. He returns with a shimmering purple that makes the air where it past my side steam. There is a scream behind us, one of the other Death Eaters must've been hit. I spare a glance to see black robes dripping and smoking.

I fire off three stupify spells in quick sucession. A hastily cast protego catches a dull yellow curse that seems to drip down it like snot. Where did they even learn these spells?

Sirius laughs, spinning to avoid a dull red curse from Bellatrix LeStrange. There's a wicked gleam in his eye as his laughter stops. He fires back something thats a grainy sludgy grey. Bellatrix shrieks in delight, barely dodging the spell.

I dont know how we got to this point. The visions showed Sirius being tortured. They were so real, as real as when Mr. Weasley was attacked by that snake. There was such sick twisted pleasure when in that vision that I didnt even question it.

We tried to verify that it was true but there wasnt time. The ministry had chased away Dumbledore from the school. McGonagall was injured, taken off to St. Mungos. There was no one at the school to help us.

We tried the floo. Kreature was there, in front of the fireplace. He admitted that Sirius was at the ministry. He basically told me that he knew Sirius was going to die. I thought house elves couldnt lie! I believed him.

So we came here to save Sirius. Only he wasnt here. It was a trap. Voldemorte set me up and like a fool, I fell for it.

A red stunner hits Sirius.

Noise becomes muffled as if I'm under water. The hairs on my arms stand up as a chill sweeps over me. Sirius falls backwards... into the veil.

I dont know what it is. Its just an old stone archway down here with symbols that have long since been rubbed down, making them indistinguishable. There is a thin transparent veil, almost more mist than clothe, drapped over it.

Sirius falls back. The veil seems to swallow him, like smoky water quickly curling over him. His eyes are closed, peaceful.

Panic grips my chest. I lunge forward, barely noticing the sickly yellow spell streaking behind me. I push my feet to run but I know that I wont make it.

Ripples shiver through the veil as it settles, swallowing Sirius. There isnt even a shadow of him to see through the veil. I shove my hand in, desperate to reach him.

The icy cold burns. Theres a shrieking ache, similar and different from the cruciatus vibrating up through my bones. Its worse than when I had to regrow all of the bones in my arm.

I try to pull my arm back but its stuck. Ripples spread out from the veil as it buckles and swallows more of my arm. The smoky surface has an almost gelatinous look to it but it feels like a combination of thick frozen fog and shattered glass dust.

A spell flashes past me, close enough to make my hair move. The veil is swallowing me in. I try to stop, to turn so that I dont stumble in but there is no time, no room to maneuver.

I'm not sure if I fall in or if the veil drags me in. Its barely a few seconds for it to have me completely submerged. It feels prickly, static like. Lights flash past my vision too fast to truly see.

I stumble out of the veil in a far different place. Stone steps and warm red sky tumble across my sight. The icy cold clings, making it difficult to feel anything.

I fall to a stop on my back with stone and sand beneath me. The red sky is turning a mix of rosey pink and burnt orange with shades of navy peaking through. My stomach still twists uncomfortably but at least the spinning has stopped.

Sirius! I have to find Sirius! He should be close.

I roll over, trying my best to look around. Its still dark, shadows still shroud the ground but its growing lighter. A lump lays face down nearby.

Sirius!

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Sirius is alive, thank Merlin! I dont know what I would do if he was hit by anything worse than a stunner. A quick ennerverate is enough to wake him.

"What happened, pup?" He asks groggily.

So I tell him. I tell him first how he fell through the veil and how I followed. Then, at his prompting, I tell him about the visions. He frowns but doesnt comment.

He's disappointed, I know. Its not the first time an adult has looked at me like that. I wish I could do something, say something, to make it better somehow.

Sirius stands, shaking off the sand and removing his outer robes. It is hot here and the sun is just now peaking over the horizon. The sky is splashed with rose pink and soft blue pushing back the darker indigo.

I toss off my outer robes, tugging my too large shirt back into place. I wish I had something other than Dudley's castoffs to wear. I doubt Sirius or I will make a good impression on whoever we meet out here.

"Any idea where we landed?" He asks somewhat distracted, already casting a few spells before I have a chance to answer.

Whatever his spells show seems to upset him more. He goes through a few more spells, growing more frustrated after each one. I dont recognize the spells but its clear that they are some type of location spells.

"That's impossible!" Sirius snaps angrily, turning to glare first at the archway and then off at the desert surrounding us.

"What is it?"

He shakes his head, clearly upset, "The best that I can guess is we are not even on Earth anymore."

What?

How?

"How do we get back?"

Sirius frowns, "I dont think we can, pup."

What about my friends? They were fighting the Death Eaters. What if they're hurt? What if they're killed?

"What do we do now?" I ask.

Sirius glares all around. There is nothing but desert as far as the eye can see. He casts another spell that points off towards some sand hills.

"Civilization shows that way," Sirius says doubtfully.

I stand, bundling up both our robes and holding them at my side. No doubt it will be a long walk. Its best if we get started before it gets too hot out.

Sirius nods, motioning me to walk beside him. Just to be safe we keep our wands out and ready. I dont see how we managed to leave the whole planet but I suppose with magic anything is possible.

"Why do you think we cant go back?"

Sirius sighs, "The veil was once used as a gateway for criminals. It was thought to be a death sentence but I supose it just transports you away."

"Do you think we will find other wizards here?"

"I hope not," he answers, "this was considered a worse punishment than Azkaban."

Its a thirty minute walk to the sand hills. Sirius calls them dunes. He casts a spell to guide us.

The sand hills/dunes seem to pop up randomly but close together. There are winding trails between them, some leading to dead ends and some looping back. It would be quite a maze to navigate without a map or spell to guide you.

Sirius stops, his wand spinning in his hand. We both look around, feeling lost. Why did tge spell lead us here? There's nothing but sand and sand hills.

Suddenly, people leap up from the sand. Their clothes are pale and they carry some kind of staff that they wield as a weapon. Well, at least we know the spell wasnt wrong.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

So... aliens.

Snake like aliens that possess people.

Snake like aliens waging a war against one another involving suped up soldiers and human slaves that spans hundreds of planets and thousands of years.

Yep, Potter luck is still hard at work.

On the plus side, it looks like we stumbled upon the good guys. The Tok'ra are a subspecies, I think, of the Gould. While both races are serpentine bodies living within a human host it would seem the differences are philosophical rather than biological.

"Ours is a True blending," the woman says kindly in a deep echoing voice that apparently signals the serpent/symbiote/Tok'ra is in control.

Her name is Garshaw. Or, I think that is the woman's name. Although I am unsure if the name is for the human body, the serpent within, or a combination of the two.

She's a kind person/alien. They all have been. Mostly.

When the people first jumped up to surround us we reacted a bit poorly. Or I guess we reacted appropriately considering they jumped out at us. I mean really, dont they have manners?! Shouldn't they know not to jump out at people?

Sirius and I both opened fire which triggered them firing back. In our defense, they started it. But yeah, not one of our better moments.

While we were throwing stunners, or at least I was, their staffs were shooting blasting curses?, maybe. I'm still not entirely sure what all was happening. I dont think they have magic but I'm not sure what the staffs are or what they do so it may be a type of magic.

Their eyes were flashing, glowing from within. They didnt move as quickly as us. Perhaps they duel differently because Sirius and I were able to knock them down fairly quickly.

Sirius bound one man in ropes before casting ennerverate. He snarled at us, threatened us. It was the same deep echoing voice only now there was something more. A serpentine hiss was underlining each syllable.

Being a parslemouth came in handy then.

"Stop threatening us!" I snapped back at the man seething within the magical ropes binding him.

And he did stop. His whole body froze, his eyes wide and locked onto mine. He was shocked out of his anger but still refused to answer Sirius' questions.

"Why did you attack us?" I repeat Sirius' question, feeling the words hiss past my lips.

"This is our home," he answers grudgingly, gaze still locked onto me, "we thought you came to attack us."

"We fell through the veil," I tell him, "we were just looking for help."

What followed was equal parts embarrassing and annoying. I told Sirius what he said. Once he stopped laughing about me being a parslemouth he helped me wake the others. They reacted better and worse than the first man. Where he was frozen, they kept touching me, my hair and arms and back mostly, and asking me to say something again only for them to nearly squeal in excitement.

Once they settled, only a little and even now they hover nearby, they brought us downstairs. Or however I should say it. It isnt a staircase or a doorway. Instead there were strange rings in the sand that rose up to encircle us. One moment we were standing on the sand. The next moment, we were withing a tunnel made of some sort of crystal that shimmers in shades of blues and purples.

They led us down the twisting hallway to an open dome shaped room. There we were introduced to the woman, Garshaw of Belote, a regal lady with shoulder length black hair and a stern manner reminiscent of Professor McGonagall.

Sirius is like a kid in a candy store. Now that they arent threatening us, he's nosing into everything. Since most of their attention has been on me it means he was able to slip away without being noticed. I just hope he doesnt do something to get us kicked out.

Chapter Text

Curiouser and Curiouser

Chapter 4

Of course he couldnt stay out of trouble. While I was being welcomed/studied by an ever-growing group of our Tok'ra hosts, Sirius was causing trouble. Whatever he did has these people shouting back and forth in some strange language.

In all the mad rushing about I manage to slip from the room unnoticed. The hallway to our left leads back the way we came in but the hall to the right branches off. I may as well explore before we're thrown out.

The main hall to the left winds serpentine like with several small curled areas. They must be rooms although there are no doors. Each 'room' is a small hall that curls back on itself like the number six or juts sharply back and forth like the letter z. At the end, it bulbs out somewhat and has a low ledge draped in thick quilts and blankets as well as a few higher ledges acting as shelves. Several rooms have trunks tucked beneath either the bed area or the shelves. I suppose each room is unique in what it holds.

One room had a crystal flower standing tall in a thin vase with a sheer cloth draped behind it. There were other little trinkets around it, a worn medallion that may have once been silver and what looks like a tooth from a large cat, a lion or something.

Another room has several books and rolled drawings. The next had clothes tossed in hazardous piles. The one after that had nothing but neatly folded tan clothing.

At that point I realize I've been snooping through peoples rooms. I didnt mean too. It just took me a minute to realize they were bedrooms and not just little alcoves. If they wanted privacy, shouldn't they have doors of some kind? It seems to me that this is just an awkward accident waiting to happen.

So I slip back the way I came. I pass three of the Tok'ra people but they paid me no mind. Really? Am I that invisible?

What did Sirius do?

I make it almost to the dome room where I met Mrs. Garshaw but shouting within stops me. This hallway is full of guards, armed with their staff wands and standing attention. There are also several Tok'ra in flowing gowns in a rainbow of colors trying to edge closer to the room.

Yeah... I think I'll pass.

So I take the hallway that branches to the right. There is a doorway on the right that shows several raised round pools that waterfall into each other. The room is warm and out of curiosity I enter.

The room is large, almost the size of the entire ground floor of the Dursley's house. The room is a cubed oval shape with several wide doorways leading back into the hallway as it wraps around the room. There are wall sections between the doorways, some with shelves going all the way up the wall while the others have what looks like benches.

About five feet from the doorway, or wall sections, there are steps leading down into the lowest pools. The next set is raised up about knee high, five feet further from the wall, and spaced so the wides flare of it barely touches where the lower ones meet. The next level up is a all interconnected with a wavy wall about as high as my chest.

I imagine from above it resembles a flower of some kind. Its not all smooth clean cut lines either. It almost looks natural, like some exotic hot springs made of a dark porous rock.

But where is the privacy? Haven't these people heard of doors?

I slip back out into the hallway. There is a doorway across the hall leading to a long slightly curved room. Inside are shelves, baskets, and trunks overflowing with various clothing.

There are two more doorways into the same room. The next room down is full of closed trunks and wooden boxes and barrels. The one after is another long room with several stone tables and chairs.

The next, which also has a doorway into the room with the tables, has long tables and shelves. This room has a lot of food, fruits and vegetables in baskets, various rolls and breads as well as cheeses on trays, and even some smoked and dried meats. Some I recognize while others are too strange.

The hallway has looped around the swimming pool room, or whatever its called. Two rooms open up at another intersection of hallways. The right leads back to the way we came in, behind the entrance perhaps, so I take the left.

The hallway branches again. The left hall has a long room on either side. There are still a few people in these rooms. They have long tables and several strange instruments each. Must be some kind of lab or potions room. The hallway deadends so I go back to the branchoff and take the right branch.

This one has a large open area with three people that remind me too much of madam Pomphrey. Thats one thing about hospital wings, they are all the same no matter what planet you are on. There are several small alcove rooms with a central ledge/table/bed that mark the left side of the hall as it circles the healers wing. They must be the patient rooms.

I follow the looping hallway. Only the last alcove is occupied. An elderly woman with snow white hair and soft wrinkled hands is resting on the stone bed.

I look down the hallway. From here I can see the widened area where we appeared and the guards and crowd just beyond them there are a couple hallways, or perhaps another looping one.

"What has everyone in such uproar?" A soft voice asks.

I turn back to the alcove to see the elderly woman watching me. Well, I may as well keep her company. At least until all of whatever this is blows over.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

The elderly lady, Saroosh, is weak with age. She has a kind smile and a soft voice. She kindly explains that she is the host, the original owner of the body, and her symbiote companion is named Selmak.

I try to tell her how we came to be here. I start first with the battle and the veil. She asks for clarification when I mention magic so I transfigure a nearby washcloth into a bundle of vibrant wildflowers. She manages a delighted laugh at that.

"Selmak?" A male voice calls heavy with concern.

A tall slender man ducks into the room only to stop in surprise. He has a tan oval face with bright blue eyes and dark blonde hair.

"Martouf, my friend, come visit with me," the lady's voice echoes with a deep hiss of parsletongue. It must mean the symbiote Selmak is speaking now.

The man Martouf moves closer with a wide friendly smile. He bows his head, his eyes flashing as he stands more stiffly, the openness of his face a little closed off. When he says a soft greeting it echoes.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Martouf," I offer back politely.

He smiles back amused, his hissing/echoing voice responds, "I am Lantash, Martouf is my host."

"Nice to meet you both," I offer back.

"What has stirred them all, Lantash?" Selmak asks weakly.

The man moves to her side with an admonishment to rest. She scoffs a reply of them worrying too much. He lowers his head, his shoulders relaxing as a human voice chides her for overexerting herself.

The woman speaks in a human voice, "Just tell us what has stirred the tunnels so."

The man smiles affectionately only to turn mournful, "Someone found a Gould communications device in Cordesh's chambers. He is being questioned by the council now."

"Cordesh?!" Selmak hisses out in that echoing voice.

She tries to rise up from the table but the man, Martouf still I think, urges her to rest. She starts speaking in that other language. He responds with the same language.

I slip out of the room to give them some privacy. Obviously something big is happening and its not really my business.

I go back down the empty hallways until I reach the cafeteria area. Hopefully they wont mind if I grab a bite to eat. Its still empty of people when I get there.

I dont recognize most of the fruit but bread is apparently universal. I grab a fat roll, tearing it open and stuffing it with some hard yellow cheese and what I think is chicken. I also grab a misshapen green apple.

I'm right about the chicken, at least I think I am. The cheese is a little sweeter than I expected but still good. I was wrong about the apple though. The skin was the same texture wise but the inside was like a combination of a peach and a grapefruit with a bluish color and a slightly sour taste. It was good but different.

"There you are, pup," Sirius calls out while strolling into the room. "Is this where you've been hiding?"

I shrug, asking instead where he ran off to. He gives a sheepish smile and explains. He had gone to prank the rude guy from earlier. Doing so had drawn attention from the other people here which caused a huge fuss. They seem more upset with the other guy.

"Are they able to help us get home?" I ask hopefully.

Sirius shakes his head, "Not home but they offered to let us stay with them or help us settle down elsewhere."

"Its too bad we dont have any money,"

"Oh!" Sirius exclaims, hurriedly searching his pockets. He pulls out a black cloth coin purse with a leather drawstring. He holds it up triumphantly.

Its only the size of a deck of cards so I dont see why he's so excited. I say as much to him, as politely as possible of course. He laughs a loud barking laugh.

He explains that its a vault purse from Gringotts. He says that means its linked to his vaults there and he can pull from it anything we need.

"I wish I had one," I say even as I accept that its too late to get one.

"You just need to write a letter, add some blood, and they can send it through mine!" He offers excitedly.

Well, at least now we will have some money. And perhaps we can communicate with those back home. Maybe we can even find a way back home!

Sirius summons some paper and ink. He then writes up something, only asking for my signature and blood when he's done. I cut my thumb and smear it on the paper then sign next to it.

"Maybe Gringotts can help us get back?"

Sirius shrugs unconcerned, "I doubt it but at least we can still access our wealth."

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Two Tok'ra, Martouf/Lantash and Oryn/Heeti, take us to a market world. The moment we step through the veil, or chappai as they call it, we are hit with a hundred sounds and smells. Groups of people move between tents and tables. Voices shout out calls, no doubt selling their wares.

"This is the market of the city To'Dette," Martouf offers as he herds us away from the veil steps.

It didnt take long to figure out who is in control when talking to the Tok'ra. Each personality has their own mannerisms, their own posture. Even if they dont speak, there is a visible difference in how they move and interact that hints at who's in control.

"To'Dette," I repeat, getting a nod back from Martouf.

"The world here is called Fii," he adds.

Fii is a market world on the edge of two Gould system lord's territories. Because of how it is setup, there are rarely any Gould here so it is safe for the Tok'ra to shop. There are often Jaffa here and Martouf warned earlier that there are also slave markets present. He didnt want us to be surprised.

Martouf is a good guy. He knows that we dont know what all is out there so he has spent the last week teaching us what he can. He has warned us about the Gould and Jaffa, which ones are the worst and which are tolerable.

When Sirius found a silver ball in that Tok'ra guard/man's room, it kicked the hornets nest. He was a traitor, selling the Tok'ra out to a Gould. The council questioned him. They dont think he gave away their location but they know he has given away several of their operatives.

One such operative was Lantash/Martouf's mates. They've been quiet, reserved more than usual according to Mrs. Garshaw. So she assigned them to help us find a new home. I think its more as a distraction for them but they are both nice and seem to enjoy helping us.

Sirius isnt in a rush to leave the tunnels. I'm not sure I am either but I know staying means we will never get home. Sirius doesnt care. He's reveling in the freedom he has now. But me, I cant stop worrying about my friends.

The Tok'ra dont seem to mind us staying. Sirius has spent many meals regaling them with the antics of his youth. They love his stories even if most dont believe them.

Thats another thing. They dont believe in our magic. We've both cast spells for them. Each time it sends their scientists into a tizzy. They've seen the results, yet they still claim our powers are impossible.

Not all are skeptical. Mrs. Saroosh is a sweet lady. She doesnt question what we can do, rather she does enjoys seeing any spells I'm willing to cast. She says that while she's never seen such a thing before as our magic, its obvious we are doing something and she sees no reason to question our naming practice. She says, if we want to call it magic then she wont argue.

I've spent hours with her, in the quiet of her hospital room. She like to listen so I tell her about school, about my friends. I dont know enough to tell her much about the world I come from because I've not really been exposed to much beyond the Dursleys and Hogwarts. It is still nice to talk though and she doesnt complain.

"Keep together," Oryn/Heeti warns.

I'm not sure which is which on them yet. I know they are one of the guards that usually stay on base. I know they are usually very serious, no-nonsense type of person.

Physically, they are an older man with dark skin and light grey eyes. They are tall and muscular with black hair in tightly twisted braids woven around their scalp. Their robes, similar to ours, are light to dark brown in multiple layers.

They lead us while Martouf/Lantash follows at our back. Sirius stays beside me but he is just as distracted by the sights as I am. We pass two long tables of fabric and further beyond them there is a wide low cauldron cooking something spicy smelling.

They lead us down one lane, past several stalls. There are a lot of fabrics and pottery on this isle. Most of the fabrics are heavy things but a few stalls have light or even sheer fabrics for sell.

At the end of this lane, past a dozen stalls, is a crossroads of sorts. We could go forward where I can already see boots and crafted clothes being shown. If we turn right, past a small troup of ten Jaffa, is a slightly angled path with pottery and jewelry for sell.

Oryn/Heeti leads us to the left. There are two stalls on both sides before we hit another path crossing this one. We turn right, going further from the veil.

Here it gets more confusing. The path to this point was fairly straightforward. Here the path burst out with small paths twisting between stalls and tents. This area is filled with foods, some cooking away and sold hot while others offer live animals in small wooden cages. We twist through several serpentine alleys until we reach a wide yellow tent open on two sides to welcome shoppers.

"This is a tent from the world Likia," Martouf offers as we look around.

I look around at the various tables. There are seven long tables set up. One has stacks three high of a round yellow cheese. Another has a variety of jars in various sizes. Two have woven baskets holding the green apple like fruit.

There are about ten men working the tent. All are fairly dark skinned with bright friendly smiles. Their clothes have a lot of greens and yellows with a florishing variety of floral patterns.

Oryn/Heeti calls back a greeting, getting backslaps and half hugs from the men here. Martouf... no, Lantash steps forward to offer his own greeting. He is just as welcomed by the men as Oryn/Heeti.

Sirius moves away. I turn around in time to see him slip through the crowd. I hurry forward to catch him but after only a minute or so I admit defeat.

A pale green eyed man in a dark red turban and lighter red tunic steps in close. He holds his hands out in a non-threatening way and utters a rushed warning. I dont understand the words he says but I follow his gaze down a wide isle.

A group of a dozen Jaffa in shiny metal armor are stomping through. Walking in the center of them is a woman with long black hair and a revealing blue and white gown. Various gold and silver jewelry shimmers as she walks. Her eyes flash, a prideful smirk on her face.

Bloody hell, a Gould!

Other people are scattering away from the group as they walk. I let the man usher me into a simple black tent. There are others hiding here too so I suppose this is a common occurrence.

The sound of the Jaffa's armor is loud but at least it warns you of their approach. I thought Martouf said that Gould didnt come here. But I supose it must happen for people to react so quickly.

I nod my thanks to the man. He offers a hesitant smile back, motioning me to stay quiet at the same time. The other people here are quiet, doing their best to not draw the Gould's attention.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Its strange, the way the area falls silent as the Gould passes through.  Voices hush, people hurry to hide, anything and everything to avoid their notice.  The clanging of the Jaffa's armor fades slowly but still noise is muted.

The man leans forward to peak out of the tent.  Two breaths pass before his shoulders slump in relief.  He mutters a few words, hands held out with palms open.  Whatever he says has the others hiding slowly peaking out.

"They have passed," he says, offering a relieved smile that I try to return.

"Do they come through often?" I ask.

He nods back solemly, "Usually it is just the Jaffa but there are a few Gods that will come through now.  It was not always so."

The other people are shuffling out of the tent, continuing on their way.  The man is still watching me.  

"Why did you help me?" I ask quietly.

He frowns back, "We must all help each other, yes?  We must help each other when we can do so."

He's right.  He wasnt the only one either.  There were several people hurrying others out of the Gould's path.

"I am Rettir," he says, placing his splayed hand against his chest and bowing slightly at the waist.

"Hello, Rita... Rettir," I try to copy his bow, only slightly mispronouncing his name, "my name is Harry."

Rettir turns out to be a local, relatively speaking.  He lives in a village three days travel from here called Votde, pronounced a bit like row.  They raise livestock, mostly a woolley animal that sounds like a fat horned llama.

I know better than to say Tok'ra or even hint at the world they are on.  Instead I tell him how Sirius and I fell through the veil.  I tell him that the people who found us are helping us.

"It is quite uncommon, falling through the chappai," he comments as he guides our way down another path, "many do not like to pass through even if they have reason."

There are small tents, some lean-tos, and a long double story building of grey slate with several little stores in hollowed cubbies.  The first shop in the building carries a varieties of spices.  The next has numerous perfumes, and dyes.  Next to that is what I think may be a tea shop, or an apothecary perhaps.

"Do you have a tent set up here, Rettir?" I ask as he guides us away from the slate and stone building.

We move to a wooden lean-to across from it with a tree at the back cut down just a little higher than the building.  There is an older couple sitting on the ground with a wide deep skillet full of rice and vegetables cooking away.  The smell is more sweet than spicy but quite mouthwatering.

Rettir kneels down before the couple, laying five small pale grey tokens on the ground and speaking loud and clear in the same language he used earlier.  The woman pulls around a couple small wooden bowls and long oddly carved spoons.  The man scoops up two huge spoonfuls to fill the bowls, holding them out once done.  Rettir takes the bowls with a smile and a bow, backing up to rise and offering another short bow as he turns away from them.

I accept the bowl with a smiling thanks and offer a hurried bow to the elders as we move away.  The first bite is delicious,  warm and sweet with what tastes like honey and maybe something mustardy.  I hum, smiling at Rettir who grins back pleased.

"My family has a hollow near the bounds," he waves a hand somewhere off to our right before motioning to the slate building, "similar to this one."

"What do they sale?" I ask, keeping pace while trying to look through the tents as we pass.

He answers with a word I dont recognize.  I almost ask him to explain further but something bright catches my eye.  There are a half dozen women in pastel robes and darker veils.  Their tent is a dark brown but the knitted animal toys are all a vibrant rainbow of colors.

I hurry forward, recognizing a horse and a llama with horns at the top of one basket.  They have a light to dark pink animal that may be a goat or a dog sitting on top of a basket of the same animal in other colors.  Theres a coiled snake in a rainbow of colors and a short straight snake with a wierd disjointed mouth in a bright blue.

The women are smiling, calling loud greetings in that other language.  I smile back but I dont know the greeting to return it.  Rettir steps up beside me, greeting the ladies with a wide friendly smile.

I pick up the horned llama and the straight snake.  They are each soft knitted wool with some sort of flowery fragrance.  I hold them up to Rettir who points to each, naming the llama 'herdt' and the snake 'gould'.  

"Is this really what a Gould looks like?"

He nods, "Jaffa carry them within them."

I pick the blue gould as well as a pale purple one and the llama/herdt.  Rettir gives a nervous smile and fishes out a few grey coins but I wave him off.  I wouldnt ask him to pay for my stuff.  I didnt realize he thought I expected it.

Sirius was able to communicate with Gringotts, although I dont understand how it worked with us being a whole galaxy away but apparently magic isnt hindered by that.  He had me write a letter sealing my vaults and issuing a vault pouch, passed through his, so I can access my money.  Martouf says most will accept currency in the form of precious stones or metals.  He says there may be negotiating but most wont refuse just because they dont recognize the emblem our old world stamps their coins with.

I dig out a half dozen silver sickles.  I show Rettir who picks up one to examine closer.  He nods, passing the sickle to one of the women who looks it over and bites it.  She smiles, nodding and saying something that Rettir translates as three.  I pass her two more with a small bow and a smiled thanks.

The llama I'll keep.  I've never had a stuffed animal toy before.  The Dursley's would've never let me keep one even if I found one and I never felt comfortable buying one in Diagon Ally.  I know I'm too old for one but no one has to know and even if they do I dont think they will care.  Besides, this will remind me of the first human friend I made on a whole other world.  Surely thats a good enough reason to get it, right?

The two goulds will be gifts.  The purple one is for Saroosh/Selmak because her favorite dress is two shades of purple.  The blue one is for Martouf/Lantash so they can have something to remember their mates.  Hopefully they will like them.

Rettir grins back, once again leading me away from the tent and further down the way.  A few tents down has a variety of leather items from belts to boots and books and satchels.  I duck in, enjoying the warm scent of the tent and the soft feel of the leather cloak hanging on a wooden rack.

Rettir is a good sport about it, smiling and helping me buy the items I pick out.  I get a satchel with a long wide strap to carry my shopping and three leather bound books.  I also pick out two knives with antler handles and leather sheaths.  I offer a golden Gallion to the gentleman running the tent.  He examines it, biting at the metal before nodding and louding proclaiming something that I dont understand.

We move on.  As we pass a man selling skewers of roasted meat I remember my rice dish.  A quick glance around doesnt show it so I must've put it down somewhere else.  I sheepishly mention to Rettir that I lost the bowl he bought earlier.  

He laughs a full belly laugh, "Yes, you placed it down and a rattling stole it away."

"Rattling?" I ask, surely there arent rats big enough to steal bowls.

He nods, pointing at a group of small boys about ten years old or so that are weaving their way in and out of the crowds, "Street rattlings."

Oh, okay.  Well, I guess they needed it or they wouldnt have taken it.  Its not like I dont know what its like to be hungry.  When I lived with the Dursley's I stole food a few times when I was desperate enough.  

Rettir leads us down another alley.  This one has tents made of more colorful fabric than most.  One have sheer fabric with beautifully embroidered floral designs and delicate lace.  A group of women huddle together comparing the various fabrics to three young girls.

Another has colorful cloth or wooden toys.  There are little wooden horses with wheels at the feet and a cushioned seat.   They also have little wooden cows/bulls and the horned llamas with wheels for feet and pull strings attached.  

The next one we stop at has stacks and baskets full of games.  There is a wide low basket full of little leather bags that open up to lay flat with a grid burnt into the leather and small stone pieces to play.  Theres is a table with several wooden games.  Many of the games have antler and bone or stone pieces but some have wooden pieces.  There are even a couple with colored glass pieces.

"Pick one," I tell Rettir, "my treat!"

He nods grinning. He picks a long wooden box with three parallel rows of ten squares each. He says its his favorite so I get one too. He also encourages me to get two more wooden game boards and two leather pouch games.

This will be something to help distract Selmak/Saroosh. They have been getting quieter as their health has been devlining. Hopefully this will be something they will like.

Rettir leads the way out of the tent after helping me pay. It doesnt really occur to me that I'm going too far from my friends. After all, Rettir can help me get back later, right.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: excuses to the Tok'ra council

"It really wasnt anyones fault," I try to argue, "we didnt have a choice."

Mrs. Garshaw/Yosef sighs, turning her gaze to a shame-faced Lantash, "How exactly did the market catch fire?"

"It wasnt the whole market!" I rush to reasure her, "just a few slave tents."

One of the other counclers frowns back, "Then how were the Jaffa killed?"

I hurriedly point to Sirius who was already trying to sneak out to the hall. He freezes for a moment, throwing me a mischievous grin and apparating away before anyone could stop him. The council,almost as one, turn to frown back at me.

I glance at Lantash who throws me an apologetic glance. I guess it is only fair that I explain since it is my fault, at least a little.

"You see, there was a Gould," I begin because I guess it started when she showed up. I explain how Rettir helped me hide, how others were doing the same. I explained about how he lead me around some of the shops.

"Why did you follow this stranger?" One of the ladies on the council asks.

I shrug embarrassed, "I thought he was a nice guy."

Garshaw's lips thin, "And why did you not return to Lantash or Heeti?"

I shrug back helplessly, "I thought it would be okay."

"Just tell us what happened," one of the men of the council orders gently.

So I tell them. I tell them about the shops we stopped at and the stuff I bought. I tell them how Rettir lead me further out where a lot of fun shops were. He even spoke with a group of friends for a while as I broused a bookstore.

We passed a wide black tent with only the smallest opening on the side. There was laughter coming from inside as well as occasional cheers. Rettir moved us away from that one, shaking his head when I asked what it had.

The area was getting more crowded as we walked. There were less women and children and more men and Jaffa. We passed a group of stalls that sold spun glass and colored glass oil lamps. The man there was young but hunched and refused to so much as look at anyone which seemed odd.

There was shouting in that other language coming from a few places. Not angry yelling but a booming voice that carried over the crowd. Rettir kept leading us further into the heavy crowds, closer to the booming voices.

At one point I stopped walking. We had just walked past our third group of a dozen Jaffa and we were a lot closer to the loud voice calling out some words that seem to be repeated. Other voices shouted back and every so often laughter or a cheer would go up.

It was almost like the crowds at a quittach match. It certainly sounded a bit like an announcer calling out what was happening while others shouted either a team chant or something similar. I asked Rettir if it was a game or sport playing but he would just smile and shake his head and try to urge me on.

I wasnt suspicious, just frustrated. He wanted me to go with him but when I asked him where he was leading me he would just shake his head. When I told him I wanted to go back to my friends he nodded and kept pulling me forward. It just seemed odd.

"My friends are probably worried," I remind him, "I really shouldnt have gone so far from them."

"Yes, just a bit further, my friend, just up ahead," he replied sounding very sincere.

The problem being, we cant possible be close to my friends. When I followed Sirius, I moved further from the veil. While walking with Rettir, we have moved further from the veil. So where is he taking me?

The people here are well dressed. Some look like soldiers or guards and there are plenty Jaffa that look like they are standing at a designated spot. The booming voices have yet to stop and we have only gotten closer.

I'll admit, I'm curious but I'm not actually as stupid as people seem to think I am. This doesnt seem like a good idea anymore. Rettir still seems friendly but he also seems to be in a hurry. He wont tell me what the crowd is about or where he's leading me. This just doesnt feel right.

So I shake my head. I tell Rettir that I'm sorry but I need to leave, I need to find my friends. I tell him that I appreciate his help and I wish him well.

I turn to leave. I've said my piece and made my position clear. I havent accused him of anything because he probably doesnt mean any harm. This is probably just a misunderstanding.

Except... He wont let me walk away. He grabs my arm in a tight grip. He shakes his head, a jumble of words that I dont understand spill out of his mouth. He looks apologetic, he really does, but his grip is bruising tight and he isnt taking no for an answer.

He pulls and shoves, weaving us through the crowd with increasingly hurried steps. He keeps me close, almost shielding me at times. The crowd presses close but he gets us through quickly.

I see the man above the crowd. Hes a plump man of about thirty or so with a shaved bald head and thick black lines painted around his dark eyes. His tunic is a bleached white thick wool with a heavy gold belt and necklace made of flat gold squares nearly the size of my palm. His is one of the booming voices.

Rettir pushes us closer to the stage, which now that I'm closer I can see that it is a permanent stone brick stage. A Jaffa steps forward with a young boy, perhaps ten years old in a dirty red tunic. His pale green eyes are wide with fear and a bruise is already blooming on his cheek.

Rettir shouts out. Whatever he says startles the man on stage. He shouts it again, pushing us through the crowd. His grip on my arm and shoulder is still bruising tight but trembling now too.

The man on stage shouts something and Rettir shouts back a reply. The man waves him forward and the crowd shifts to open a path. Rettir hurries me forward.

"Rettir..."

"I am sorry, my friend, I thought I had more time," Rettir hisses through gritted teeth. "I did not mean for it to be this way but I have no choice, my friend."

"Theres always a choice," I chide him, "and I dont think we're friends."

The boy tries twice to twist away from the Jaffa and rush to Rettir. The second time, the Jaffa smacks him with a hard backhand. Rettir hisses out a curse, nearly tripping me as he shoves me up the stairs.

They keep speaking that other language so I cant really follow what they're saying. I look over the crowd that stands watching eagerly as the drama unfolds before them. I look over the boy, still trying to edge closer to Rettir even as the Jaffa squeezes his shoulder in warning.

The man in white walks over as Rettir steps back. He circles me, looking over me with a heavily judgemental stare. He stops in front of me, taking my chin and turning my face to one side then the other. He glances back at the boy and tisks, frowning as he looks us both over.

It doesnt take a genius to figure out whats happening here. The boy looks enough like Rettir to be family, most likely his son. He's obviously trying to trade me for his son which means that the boy was somehow a slave. Which means this is the slave market that Lantash warned us about.

The man in white nods, motioning to the Jaffa to release the boy who immediately runs into Rettir's arms. It's not the boy's fault, I know that. But regardless of his reasons, Rettir deliberately lead me here to be enslaved which was a really terrible thing to do.

Still, its not the boys fault. I tap the boy on the shoulder, receiving a terrified wide eyed stare in response. I dig the knitted llama toy from my satchel and pass it to the boy. He blinks back confused but accepts the toy. Rettir hurries him away, refusing to even look back at me.

I look back to the man in white who is smirking mockingly. He makes some sort of comment in that other language that has laughter rustle through the crowd. I guess this isnt a usual occurrence but the man in white certainly seems pleased.

The Jaffa grabs my arm, strong but not bruising. I tell them that I dont understand their language. The Jaffa asks if I understand what has happened.

"I've been traded by a man I just met for a child that is most likely his son to some sort of slave auction," I answer calmly.

The Jaffa frowns, nodding back seriously. He pulls me away from the stage, down some stairs at the back where several long tents are setup. There are more Jaffa here as well as men in dark blue robes with bald heads and dark painted eyes.

The Jaffa pulls me into the tent on the right. It has four long rows of cages, each with about three or four people, all male. The ones nearest the front left have small toddler aged children. Each cage after that seems to be only slightly older than the previous. The two rows on the right hold grown men seperated by body size.

"You will remove clothing now," a man in blue grouches as he hurries over.

"No thank you."

The Jaffa snorts, "You are slave now, boy, best to obey."

A woman screams off to the left. We're close enough to the tent entrance that I can see the Jaffa that drags her by her hair while she kicks and screams. She is dragged up the steps to the stage and barely a moment passes before a laughing cheer rises up.

I slip my hand in my pocket, fingers closing around my wand. The man in blue is clearly losing patience. The people in the cages are all huddled in groups, too fearful to so much as look up.

"Want to see a trick?" I ask the man in blue as I slip my wand free.

"Fiendfyre."

I admit to the Tok'ra council that I technically started the first fire. It was a small serpent fire, just enough to scare them back a step or two. I was only planning to bluff my way out, hopefully with the slaves, at least a few of them.

Its just my luck that Sirius showed up then. He heard me cast the spell and decided to help. Unfortunately, his help consisted of a many limbed leviathan made of smoke and hellfire that rolled over the tents like some all consuming eldrich creature. Really, it was all I could do to open the cages.

I expected the slaves to run the moment the doors were open. They surprised me. The older ones immediately rushed to gather the younger, keeping the most vulnerable to the center while the more ablebodied grabbed whatever weapons they got their hands on.

The fire was devouring the crowd of bidders and the Jaffa and the men in blue and white. Sirius had made it to my side and was trying to hurry us away. The slaves moved on their own to the women's tent. Again it is seperated by ages but there also seems to be some other defining feature used in their grouping. A few spells get their cages open then we move to the next tent where even more women are locked away.

The fire was a great distraction because it brought the Jaffa from all corners of the market to rush over. This left the veil unguarded which allowed us to move the very large group of former slaves through without anyone to stop us.

Our Tok'ra friends were a bit upset. Not only did we cause an enormous amout of trouble and damage but they had to help us usher the slaves through to a semi-safe world until other arrangements could be made.

Sirius dragged Heeti off to gather food and livestock while Lantash ran with a fistful of Gallions and a few of the slave men to gather whatever else they could while I sent the slaves through the veil. We certainly didn't go unnoticed but we got them through safely and left them with a lot of supplies for the time being. We promised to return soon to either help the settle in or move them somewhere safer.

I think it turned out alright in the end but the sour looks on the councils' faces seem to disagree. I guess its not good that Martouf and Oryn were seen helping us. They wont be able to return to that market again and any other Tok'ra may be in danger if they go.

I still think we did the right thing.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Marloon

Sirius hasn't been back in the two weeks since the market fire incident. I think he's trying to stay away until tempers can settle. No one has said that we put the Tok'ra in danger but there is a great deal more tension now whenever they go off-world.

They have had to send out to other worlds for supplies which puts their people in more danger. I've offered to help but there are always excuses on why I cant accompany the Tok'ra off world. I've spent most of my time with either Martouf and Lantash or with Saroosh and Selmak.

Saroosh laughed when I gave her the plush knitted symbiote. She loves it, keeping it close as she's grown weaker. Selmak says that it shows the people are realizing that the Gould are not gods. She says even twenty years ago, no one would dare make such a thing for fear of angering the gods.

I offered to try acting as host for Selmak. The Tok'ra refused. They worry that my magic will kill her. I told them that I wont but they dont want to risk it while there is still time.

When I'm not sitting with Saroosh and Selmak, I'm usually playing board games with Martouf and Lantash. He was more reserved when I gave him his gift. I think it hurt them a bit, having that reminder that their mates are gone but I think they understood what I was trying to say.

Martouf offered to take me off world today. It should be safe since the world isnt one the Gould bother with. He's taking me to the world of Marloon. Its a world that means a great deal to him personally and he offered to share it with me.

First things first, we have to dress appropriately. The world of Marloon is a warm world, not tropical but with a steady temperature that barely changes with the seasons. There are wide clear oceans and tall proud mountains, deep valleys with a Kaleidescape of colorful flora and forests full of strong healthy game.

Lantash picks out a sunshine yellow tunic that slowly fades to a vibrant orange over pants colored in the reverse. The fabric itself is thin and lightweight with a matching orange turban wrap. He picks a similar outfit for me in shades of green to yellow and back with a yellow turban wrap.

We dont carry more than a simple satchel, a water skin, and our coin purses. The chappai bursts to life and together we step through. Its a dizzying ride, similar to floo travel, that pushes me to stumble through the other end.

The world of Marloon has a bright blue sky full of puffy white clouds. The immediate area is a thick carpet of green moss with splashes of color in bell and daisy shaped wildflowers. Bird songs trill out from the forest just a few yards away while a herd of strong deer like animals meander away unconcerned.

Martouf leads the way over softly sloping hills and through a cool shaded forest. We cross over a wide shallow river by way of a thick natural bridge of woven roots and vines. The path is long overgrown, clearly unused for some time now, but he moves with a knowing ease.

Once past the bridge, we find a narrow game trail leading downhill. The trail then juts to the right and widens to something far more traveled. This leads us out of the forest and to a road made of long flat stones of a pinkish color.

Martouf points out the herd of a wooly sheep like animal being minded off in the valley along the road. A few young ones bleat a low deep call, bounding off to play before turning back to rejoin the group. A shepard, tall and young, waves pleasantly from within the herd.

"The fur once spun is a soft and lightweight thread," Martouf offers, waving back at the shepard. "You will find many herds being minded within a days walk of any city on this world."

The walk from the veil to the city takes a few hours. We pass three large farms and another animal herd before the city even comes into view. It is certainly a sight to behold.

The city rises up along the mountainside.  Its all lush tall trees, pale stone, and vibrant colored fabrics visible even at a distance.  To the left of the mountainside, where it is chipped off to a sharp drop,  lay a shimmering sea splashing against the metalic grey stones. The tall stone wall wraps around the city as it climbs its way up the mountainside. A cliff opens to the left to a gorgeous ocean view where the water crashes against the rocks several feet below. A tall railing follows along the oceanview of the city all the way to the top.

Martouf leads us past the city walls and into the city. The buildings are made of a pinkish stone, both smooth and rough to the eye. There are vibrant paintings decorating many walls while the people drape themselves in a rainbow of colors. There are a million things to see, to hear, to experience.

"The buildings are made of a clay mixture," Martouf adds, "the people of Marloon take great pride in their craftsmanship, building nearly everything with their own hands."

We explore the market first. There are sheer veils, woven baskets, intricate gameboards, and fine pottery. I run around a bit too excited, wanting to see everything they have to offer. I'm sure i buy too much, especially after buying the third satchel to help carry it all, but Martouf only smiles and offers to help carry my purchases so I can continue to shop.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10. The Cave

The markets here are truly a pleasant place. The people are friendly, the craftsmanship is amazing, and the merchandise is well worth the coins. I got a lovely set of plates and bowls, the outer edges curving like the petals of a flower while the inside is a patchy mix of sharp colors, as well as a leather bound journal and a pair of knives with leather sheaths. I also got a soft knitted blanket in various shades of red and a woven rug of various greens and golds with a reed backing.

There were a few places selling food in the market too. We tried a pita bread stuffed with vegetables and cooked meat and a bowl of boiled purple potatoes topped with cheese and a creamy white sauce. There was a woman selling what looked like icecream that I wanted to try but Martouf called me away, promising a treat just a little walk away through a winding stone tunnel.

The cave, for what else can you call this enclosure, is a relief after the warmth of the markets. Stone steps weathered smooth over the ages lead down through the mountainside to the highest, and deepest, part of the cavern. Moss and lichen grow thickly down the cliff face but stop at the point that the cavern opens up, leaving the stones here almost soft to the touch. The cave then balloons out like an upside down bowl with a wide tall opening where the ocean waves come in.

Various blankets are set up like little picnic areas deep within the cavern. There are only a few people here, clustered in groups near the inner wall. The water slaps loud against the shore, a rumbling rushing sound. Instead of sand, it has white stone soft and smooth, kept cool in the shade from the rock overhanging us.

"Its beautiful!" The words are softer than I intended but no less true.

Lantash touches my arm to lead me over to the blankets. He guides us to a group of women with various thick fabrics bundled in piles. I guess we're buying a blanket from them.

We go closer to the water than the other groups, about halfway through the cave. It offers a little privacy from the other groups.

"Tell me about her," I offer softly.

Lantash smiles a sadly bittersweet smile, "They were beautiful, loyal, fierce and kind. Rosha's eyes were as clear blue as the waters here. She was gentle hearted with the brightest laughter. Jolinar was a fighter, fierce in battle and passionate in everything she did."

"What's your silliest memory with them?" I ask, smiling as a smile blossoms across his face.

He talks. He tells me about a romantic date they planned that didnt go at all as expected. They had planned a picnic with wine and food to watch a romantic sunset. What they got was torrential rains, a hundred fat frogs, and covered head to toe in mud.

Martouf takes over partway through to further embellish the more embarrassing parts leaving us both breathless from laughing. He moves on to a sweet memory involving flower crowns at a mayday celebration. He waxes poetically about her beauty for nearly ten solid minutes.

At that point Lantash takes over again. He adds a story involving them sneaking around a Gould fortress, getting caught because they were making out and pretending to be misbehaving slaves to avoid the Jaffa realizing what they are. Martouf adds that the Jaffa ordered them to take food to the Gould and they ended up starting a food fight to escape.

More people have trickled down, taking over little clusters of their own. A group of boys are running back and forth staying just out of reach of the waves crashing to shore. A family, or perhaps two, walk along the shoreline a bit further away from the water.

"They would've liked you," Martouf adds softly, his gaze lost to the horizon visible through the opening of the cave.

"I would've liked to meet them too," I offer back genuinely.

We sit quietly for a bit. The cool breeze is a bit chilly which I guess is why no one is swimming yet. There are a group of women with a wide flat stone mixing and passing out some type of treat. Whatever it is smells of a sweet fruity flavor.

Martouf shakes himself, wiping at the moisture in his eyes, "Its about time for a treat, yes?"

I agree, accepting the change in topic. He stands up with a soft excuse to return in a minute. I understand. We all need a minute sometimes.

The boys running along the shore have doubled back again. A few more kids, girls and boys, have joined them. They laugh loudly, dancing away from the waves and somehow not growing bored. Perhaps its a game teaching speed?

The family has reached the end and doubled back, more spread out than before. The three men are engrossed in a story that has the women with them nearly cackling in laughter. Just by the men's expressions and gestures its clear they're trying to sell a story that is too ridiculous to believe.

Three of the kids from the family run ahead. Two of them are perhaps seven since Martouf says that is the age the children start wearing trousers or skirts in brighter colors. The third is younger by a couple years, still in its pale toddler dress. The two older kids dodge around the group of boys. The little one stumbles back into the crashing wave.

And disappears.

I'm running before I even thought to stand. The kids have skattered away from the water and the family are screaming. I cant see the little one.

I cant see him!

Martouf yells behind me. My feet hit the water and bloody hell, its freezing! Its like getting hit with a blast of ice shards.

The shore drops sharply almost instantly so I dive under after two steps in. There's red in the water as it shoves and pulls me harshly. I spot his head, firing off a rushed bubblehead charm that I pray reaches him. Another is hastily cast on myself.

Could an animal have grabbed him? I didnt see one but surely if he only fell in the water then he would've already stood back up. Could it have been an animal grabbing him?

I push and kick, speeding through the water. The drop-off turns back inward and the water twists and tumbles me. I shove off of the drop-off, propelling myself further down.

Could the current really be this powerful? The water twists in a visible whirlwind, a thick tornado leading deeper into the shadows. I catch a glimps of the child caught in its grasp.

Thank Merlin!, the bubblehead caught the baby!

Their eyes are squeezed shut, mouth open in what is no doubt an impressively earsplitting scream. The whirlwind twists them out of sight. I push myself downward, catching the child as the tornado brings them back around.

I'm instantly pulled into the whirlwind. I tuck the baby close, clinging to them as the water twists and tumbles us around dizzingly. Tiny fingers fist into my clothes as tiny legs do their best to lock onto me.

I have to get us out of here! Its already getting too dark. I'm not sure which way is up.

I kick out with all of my strength. The whirlwind explodes outward. The water ripples, begining to churn again slowly almost instantly.

It takes a moment to twist the right way. I kick us upwards careful to avoid the rapidly speeding whirlwind. Its far more difficult than it should be. The water is heavy, the currents strong.

We break the surface and are almost immediately pulled back under. The water pushes and twists too violently. I kick and struggle to get us closer to shore.

The baby starts screaming only to cough when water slaps their face. I raise them higher, kicking out as the current grabs at my legs. Each time I break the surface I gasp in a gulp of breath only to be pulled back under. Somehow I manage to keep the child's head above water.

We're getting close to the drop-off. The current here is the most violent. I twist and kick as desperately as I can. If I can just get past the drop-off!

A high current shoves us foward to spin beneath the water. I scramble to cast a bubblehead on the baby so he doesnt drown. Please let the baby survive this!

The water moves us past the drop-off to slam us against the sharp stone rise. I wedge my feet in place and stand, bracing as the water recedes with a vengence.

Waves shove at my shoulders at the same time the water pulls harshly at my legs. The baby isnt even screaming anymore. Their eyes are too wide, too horrified. I need to get them closer!

I take three stumbling steps. Each time I raise my foot the water tries to drag me back under. Each time I put my foot down a sharp pain jars up my legs.

I glance up to see the horrified crowd at the shoreline. I'm still too far out! I need to get closer!

The water pulls back harshly, nearly draging me backwards. I plant my feet and grit my teeth against the strain. The water drops to my stomach.

I meet Lantash's fearful gaze. I dont have the breath to shout, all I can do is act quickly. He will understand!

I tug the baby away from my chest. He struggles but theres no time to explain. I twist back and throw them with all of my strength.

I have a split second to see Lantash jump forward and catch them. Hands from the crowd pulling them both back. Then I'm under water again.

My arms slam against the stone, releasing a burst of red in the otherwise clear water. I'm pushed and pulled from all directions. I cant let the water drag me away!

I have to crawl! Its the only way. I cant walk through this and trying to swim would just be stupid. My only option is to cling to the stone and crawl.

So thats what I do. Inch by inch, one hand reaches up to grasp at the stone. Red is released. Bits of cloth and flesh get tossed around by the currents.

The stone here isnt smooth. The currents are so strong that it has sharpened the stone and broken deep grooves into it. The result is essentially a million thin razorblades in every conceivable direction. The sharpened stone cutting into my flesh is the only way I'm able to hold on in order to climb.

Water pulls away from my hair. I lift my head and gasp in a desperate breath. I'm close! I'm so close!

A wave crashes over me. I shove both hands forward to impale them higher up on the stone. My legs tremble as I force one foot forward and push myself up. The water recedes and I gasp in another desperate breath.

I open my eyes to see how much further. Lantash is there just out of arms reach. He has a long fabric wrapped around his arm. He throws one end at me.

I raise my left arm, noticing as I do the tattered shreds of flesh. I only know I grab the fabric because I see my fingers catch it. I twirl my wrist, trying to wrap the fabric around my wrist.

Water crashes over me, slamming me forward. I push with my feet. The water recedes away from my shoulders, I drag one foot forward and wedge it in place. Raising my head, I gasp in a breath.

Another wave crashes over me. I push with my feet. I break the surface before the water recedes.

My right hand looses its grip. I flail up out of the water, desperate not to be dragged back. I'm so close!

Somehow I'm pulled free. Hands grab at my arms, my clothes, dragging me from the water.

Martouf falls to his knees beside me. He says something but I cant hear him. Everything is fuzzy, blurry.

His hands cup my cheeks. His lips press to mine, pushing my mouth open.

My vision goes black.

Something thick and heavy shoves into my mouth.

There's pain in the back of my throat.

I know no more...

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Waking up is disorienting. Theres a strange woolley-ness to my thoughts, memories seem far away. I feel numb and floaty but in such a way that I know there will be a lot of pain. I have far too much experience with the hospital wing to not realise this was bad.

But what happened? Did I crash during quittach? Did the whomping willow get me? Was it another mountain troll?

It doesnt smell like the hospital wing. The hospital wing smells like magic-scrubbed clean stone and the faint scent of potions and sweat. This smells of sanded wood, sunwarmed cloth, and fragrant sweet meat roasting.

I blink burning dry eyes open slowly, fearing the light but it is blissfully dim in this room. The ceiling is a pale pink stone, not perfectly even but smooth. Light flickers over the stone, coming from my right.

It takes another minute to realise I hear voices speaking softly. The language is familiar but the meaning is lost to me. I dont feel alarmed though. Wherever I am, I feel safe.

I stretch my toes and flex my fingers only to feel the constraints of bandages. A slight shifting of my legs and shoulders causes the ache of sore muscles and the feel of bandages pulls at my calves. My whole body moves stiffly. The kind of stiff that comes from healing an injury.

I turn my head to the right, curious about the people gathered across the long rectangular room. The room itself is beautiful, all pink smooth stone and heavy vibrant tapestries. There is a low light wood table surrounded by colorful flat cushions instead of chairs. On the far wall is a domed fireplace with a wide flared skillet cooking over a lively fire.

There are several people, perhaps thirty all together, of various ages in brightly colored clothes. They keep their voices soft, except for the stray childish squeal gently shushed. Their clothes are predominately red and orange but there are also a lot of yellows, mostly in veils and turbans.

Three women work together cooking the food. One sits by the wall with several wide low bowls, chopping what looks like lettuce, carrots, and some kind of large banana shaped fruit. Another is tending to the food on the fire while the third fills plates on the table. They are older women, faces wrinkled with age and laughter but hands strong and steady. They work well together, moving around each other with a practiced ease.

Ten women sit further down the wall from them on a wide thick woven rug of bright yellow. Around the women are six small children playing with various toys. The toys are all made of pale wood, many painted bright colors with moving parts. There are also three girls, the oldest is perhaps my age, working together with what may be a tapestry.

Across the room from them, the majority of men sit in deep discussion. There is a quiet tension within that group. Not fear, nor anger, but perhaps a nervousness. The area has a sheer cloth acting as a canopy and several thick cushion acting as a seating.

A small form steps close. A small child in a pale pink hooded gown moves to kneel down beside my head. Wide brown eyes in a sweet chubby face blink owlishly.

Memories come back although the strange woolley-ness remains. I remember being with Martouf and Lantash on the world of Marloon. I remember the city, the markets, and the cave. I remember the child, this child, falling in the water only to be swept away by the current. I remember red in the water, my fingers mangled by the sharp rocks.

A small hand pats my cheek. The toddler leans closer to speak what I'm not sure are actual words. I smile at the baby, getting a bright dimpled smile in return.

A woman speaks in quiet reprimand, hurrying to the child only to startle when her eyes meet mine. She says something in that other language, turning to the others in the room. Her words cause a lot of movement, several men shuffling over to my side as she pulls the toddler away.

The first to reach me is Martouf. A rush of adoring affection floods through me, so strong I'm nearly giddy with it. I reach for him without thinking, needing to be close to him again.

"Hush now, Harry, all is well," Martouf asures me calmly. "You are safe here."

A part of me wants to crawl closer, cling to him like a limpet. The larger part of me is confused. Since when have I felt this way about him? The feeling is just strange enough, just enough of not me, that I know its someone else.

My magic stirs in warning, a pulse of power, a tightness at the back of my neck. Something shifts, something foreign moves against my skin, within my skin. Something is inside of me!

Martouf lunges forward, pressing his mouth to mine. There's a pain at the back of my throat, something heavy in my mouth. Just as quickly, its gone.

My magic settles, relaxing now that there isnt something inside of me. The fog in my mind lifts and I realize what the problem was before. Lantash was inside of me and my magic was trying to keep him contained. He was trying to help me heal and my magic was hovering over him like a vengeful mrs. Pince that time Ron spilled pumpkin juice in the library.

I feel myself blush and I cant help but ask, "Is he... did I hurt him?"

Martouf ducks his head low, his eyes flashing as Lantash moves into control. He speaks without the echo but still sounding like himself, "I am unharmed but the feeling was unpleasant and would be draining overtime."

"You were helping me. I'm sorry that I..."

"Think nothing of it, Harry, I am glad that I could help. It was a necessary discomfort easily acceptable for a friend."

"Thank you," is all I can offer. I cant imagine how brave it must've been to rush to save me. My magic could've killed him. Its the reason they wont let me be a host for Selmak. I'm just glad my magic recognized that he was trying to help.

A voice speaks up from my other side. The men that came over arranged themselves on the cushions to my left. They still seem nervous but not upset, angry, or afraid.

"They wish you to know how grateful they are," Martouf translates, shifting to a more comfortable position by my side. "No one has ever come back from the water before. You cannot imagine their joy in what you have done for them."

"Anyone would've done the same."

"They would not," he tells me softly. "The waters of this world, while beautiful, are especially cruel. Any who fall into the waters are lost, their bodies dragged far too deep to ever be recovered."

"Tell them, I appreciate their care of me and I accept their thanks?" Was that right? "And can I have some water?"

One of the women hurries over with a cup. Martouf helps me lean up enough to drink. Its not water. Its something fruity, sweet and almost peachy.

One of the men speaks again. He's probably the oldest, with a stooped back and short snow white beard. His hands touch mine, squeezing gently as his eyes shine with gratitude.

"This is Emir, the head of the family. He speaks on behalf of his whole family when he offers his heartfelt appreciation to you for saving his great grandson, Ejaz."

I reach over to catch his hand, squeezing back gently so he knows I accept. I still think anyone would've done the same if they were able. Who wouldnt rush to save a child in danger?

"Tell him I am thankful for their care of me."

Emir moves back as another man takes his place. This man is larger than Emir, with a greying beard and kind brown eyes. Martouf introduces him as Emad, son of Emir and grandfather of Ejaz. He too offers his hand, speaking words of gratitude that Martouf kindly translates.

The next man to come forward is much younger, with only the shadow of a rich black beard. This man is introduced as Ehsaan, father of Ejaz. He does not stop the tears that come as he squeezes my hands, pressing a kiss to the wrapped knuckles of both before releasing me.

"Ehsaan is young, with only a young wife and his son Ejaz. He says he has nothing to offer but anything he has is yours. He offers himself as a servant for as long as you have need of him."

"Tell him I would never take him from his family. I did what anyone would do and it would be dishonorable to take payment for that. Will that work?"

Martouf smiles, touching my arm reasuringly as he speaks to the family. The other men seem to speak all at once, all varing in ages and with similar looks to clearly be family. There is something like an argument, although lacking any anger or offense, that continues for several minutes.

Emir calls them to quiet, turning his full attention on the group. He speaks again, getting nods of agreement from the other men. Emad speaks up, mostly to Emir before addressing Martouf.

"They say if you will not take payment, they wish to accept you as family. If you accept, they will offer you a wife of your choosing from among their daughters."

Before I can reply he adds, "I must warn you, to refuse would be a grave insult to them all."

"But I cant stay on their world."

"I have already explained that we come from far away and must return there soon. You may choose to keep your wife here or take her with you. Again I must warn you, if you leave her here they will expect you to visit often and care for her properly."

"Would they even want to leave? Wouldnt they be upset about having to leave their whole world behind?"

"Many worlds have a similar mindset. They believe the women bow to the men. So it is understood that, when they marry, they may have to move far with their husband's family."

He gets an odd look on his face, adding, "Or... you could stay here. We did agree to find you a new home world. You could live here. You could be happy here."

"What about Sirius? What about you and Selmak and Saroosh? What about Heeti? I think he's finally warming up to me."

Martouf grins, "I would visit from time to time but we would be happy, knowing you are safe."

I think about it for a minute, perhaps two. But I dont want to settle down somewhere. I want to stay with my friends. I want to stay with Sirius. I want to find a way home.

But... I dont want to offend these people. I dont know anything about a wife or what I should do with one. Hermione would know, Ron would be jealous, but me?, I'm clueless.

When in doubt, as your friends for advice. Especially if they are smarter than you, as Hermione has so often proven. "What do you think I should do?"

"I would urge you to accept. To do anything less would be to cast this family into ruin."

"Then tell them I accept on the condition the wife agrees to travel with me. Tell them we wont be able to visit often but I swear to do my best to see her safe and cared for."

I hope this was the right choice to make. Merlin help me, dont let me screw this up.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12 choosing a bride

I have Martouf help me sit up. Its difficult, leaving me breathless and shaking, but I cant have this conversation while laying down. That just seems disrespectful to me.

I take a moment to drink the rest of the juice drink. Emir calls over to the ladies across the room. The ones that answer come to sit on the blanket at my feet. I offer a smile and a short bow in greeting. I think that was right.

Emir introduces me to five girls. Two that were working on the tapestry, two women that were gathered around the kids, and one little girl still in a pale orange gown with a nearly white veil. It wasn't an easy situation but I think I handled it well.

The oldest is Nehza, the twenty three year old daughter of Emad. She is beautiful, drapped in vibrant orange and yellow that make her dark brown eyes shine. She's calm and graceful with a tall willowy figure and while she speaks, she seems a bit... sad, or perhaps indifferent is a better word. Not rude or disrespectful but an unhappy quiet.

"She says she would be honored to be your wife, should you choose her."

"You hesitated," I point out to Martouf. "Tell her it is okay if she has someone else she would prefer to marry or if she doesnt want to leave here. I wont be mad or offended with any of them."

He speaks to her. She glances at the men still gathered around us before replying. Martouf says something else that has a pretty blush flush over her cheeks. It is Ehsaan that answers with a teasing lit to his voice.

"It would seem she was being courted but the gentleman was willing to bow out gracefully should you wish for her hand."

Martouf makes a slight motion to one of the younger men still sitting around the cushions with five other men, "Her beloved comes from another equally low family and so would not dare to inhibit the will of a greater match."

"Tell them that they have my full blessing and wishes for a long and happy marriage."

When he translates for them there is a relieved gasp from Nehza. She smiles brightly, the first really genuine emotion she's shown. Emir gives a rueful sigh, waving her off to go sit with her beloved and his family who welcome her with cheers of affection.

The other woman is Emad's youngest, Nesrine, only just turned nineteen and drapped in ruby reds and lemon yellows. She, like her sister, is beautiful and graceful in her movements with a willowy figure and lovely dark brown eyes. Where her sister was reserved, she is more open with a genuine smile and a friendly expression.

The two girls that were working on the tapestry are Mehreen and Mehriban, the twin daughters of Emir's second son, Ehtiram. He introduces them with all the pride of a doting father. He even calls over their mother to praise his wife for raising them so well which gains bright smiles from all three.

The last to be introduced is Amira, the only daughter of Emir's only daughter. She is introduced by her father, Fariq, who is the husband of Habiba. The little girl keeps her face turned away during the introduction, clinging quietly to her father's side.

Martouf says she is presented because to do otherwise would be an insult to her and to me. They dont expect me to pick her and if I did I wouldn't be able to marry her yet because she is too young. He says this part is more formality but it is a genuine offer if I am interested.

"Tell her that while she is a lovely child from a beautiful mother, I could not dream of stealing her away from her home."

Martouf translates, earning us a shy smile as the girl rushes back to the children playing. She seems to forget all about the shy awkwardness that had her here. We share a laugh, echoed by the family.

That leaves three to choose from, Nesrine and the twins, Mehreen and Mehriban. All three again agree to the match, they have no reason not to. All three are of a marriageable age and they agree to following me off-world.

"I dont know how to choose and I dont want to cause offense. Could I spend a couple days getting to know them? I dont want them unhappy with the match."

Martouf translates, bless him, and even answers questions from Emir. Ehtiram says something, holding both hands out towards the ladies. Whatever he says sounds like a compliment. Nesrine actually giggles which sets off the other two.

"Since you cannot choose, they will not make you," Martouf says with a teasing tone. "It is not uncommon for a man to take more than one wife or for those wives to be from the same family."

"What?"

Martouf grins back mischievously, "You now have three brides. To refuse any now would be an insult so you should accept."

"Bloody hell," I let out in a rush. Straightening, I offer a respectful bow, to the best of my ability, "Tell them I am honored."

A cheer rises up. Several more people come in from a doorway hidden by a red tapestry. There are several boys as well as many couples eagerly calling out in friendly voices.

Martouf explains, "This will be the wedding celebration. Other family members have come to join together for the first meal. Later, more people will come by to offer their well wishes."

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

The wedding is thankfully a simple affair.  Martouf and Ehsaan help move me to the nearest end of the table.  The girls, Nesrine, Mehreen, and Mehriban, arrange themselves around me with Nesrine on my right.

Emir stands at the other end of the table with Emad and Ehtiram on either side.  Behind them sits their wives, each drapped in orange and red in varying shades.  All three men speak, raising their glass and getting a cheer once their speech is finished.

The rest of the table is arranged with the men sitting near the table while women and children arrange themselves around the men.  There does seem to be an order to it that isn't apparent at first glance.  It almost looks like they are arranged by age but some of the girls are older than the boys they sit behind.

"It is the man's honor to provide for his family," Martouf translates as Emir speaks again.  "It is a man that keeps his family safe and well... healthy.  To care for a person, to keep healthy a person, is to call them family.  So it is my honor to welcome as family he who did protect my great grandson, Ejaz.  This man, Harry of another world, now takes to wife three daughters of my blood.  May they bless him with many strong sons and bring honor to his family as he has brought to mine."

Emir picks up a dark pink clay pitcher, pouring the fruit juice into a large clay cup.  He raises the cup, bows his head to me, and takes a small drink.  Emad bows to his father, accepting the cup and bowing to me before taking a drink.  Emir then takes the cup back to hand it to Ehtiram who repeats the motions.

"To drink from the same cup is to share in blessings, whether in little or plenty."

Emir the takes the cup back.  He rises fully and walks carefully through the group to reach my side.  He holds out the cup and I dont need Martouf to tell me to take it with a bow.

"It is traditional to share the drink with your new wives, as a way of sharing in their family's blessing."

I take a drink, bowing to all three men with what I hope is a respectful motion since I'm still sitting down.  I hold the cup out to Nesrine.  She cups her hands around mine, drinking from the cup while I still hold it.  I twist around to offer the cup to Mehriban as she sits behind me then Mehreen on my other side.  

Once finished, I hand the cup back to Emir with another short bow.  He accepts the cup, saying something while holding it up high.  A cheer goes up in answer.

Emir goes back to his seat.  He takes up the first bowl, containing a puffy flat bread larger than his hand.  He takes one and passes the bowl to Emad.  While Emad is taking one and passing the bowl to another man, Emir tears his bread, passing half to his wife behind him.  This action is repeated with each man taking a piece of bread, breaking off a piece to keep and passing the rest to his wife who also tears the bread and shares it with the children around them.

"Each family is offered equal share of the meal," Martouf explains as Emir picks up a bowl with boiled purple vegetables that smell like potatoes.  

There is a bowl with some kind of boiled egg, one with a fragrant well-seasoned meat, another with pealed and halved banana shapped fruit.  By the time the bread reaches me, there are seven other dishes being circulated around the table.  There is only one piece of bread left so I throw a questioning look at Martouf.

"They consider me as belonging to you so they assume I will share in your meal.  You are meant to eat first, then pass your plate to whoever you see as your closest.  Then it goes down the line."

"What if there isnt enough food?"

He motions to the table still full of plates, "Each bowl only offers a small amount, enough for each person to take a bite, but there is enough here to feed everyone.  The point of such meals is to share all that you have with one another."

He is right about the meal filling us.  It's difficult at times with my hands still bandaged, making certain to split my portions into equal amounts, but not unmanageable.  It helps that the bowls move slowly down the line and the meal lasts a few hours.

By the end of the meal, I can barely stay upright.  My body, especially my hands, legs, and feet, throb painfully.  My hair is damp with sweat and it feels as if I've been running quittach drills with Wood again.

Martouf again helps me up.  There is a washroom, if you can call it that, through the doorway and down a hall.  Other rooms come off the hallway that women are herding their children into.  Martouf explains that each room is a family room for those that still live in this home.

The washroom is a small room with a brown cloth door and a bare clay floor.  The floor slants to the back left corner where an open hole acts as a drain.  Martouf explains that the drain is also the toilet and they use what smells like lemon water to keep it clean.

Nesrine sits a short stool in the center of the room.  Martouf helps me out of my clothes as Mehriban unwinds the bandages from my hands.  I would put up more of a protest if I didn't feel as weak as a newborn kitten.

Mehreen brings over a bucket of warm water.  They work together, dragging a rough wet cloth over my skin.  There is a spicy flowery smell, perhaps peppery, that comes from the water bucket.  

By the end of the bath, Martouf is the only thing keeping me upright.  They dry me off with a soft grey cloth and dress me in a light yellow tunic and trousers.  I feel Nesrine wrap a soft turnban around my head but I remember nothing else.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 saying goodbye

We stayed five more days with Emir's family. I guess they are my family now. Their home is one of several that are built along the low cliffside of the mountain. It is not the safest place to be but its also not the worst.

Marloon does have a social structure. It is most noticable when the Imammon arrived with three of his seventeen wives. He is a bit like a mayor or religious leader only its a position held by the wealthiest person in the city/village.

Martouf explained it, "They see wealth as a social obligation. The more wealth you have, the more you are able to offer. The wealthier the man, the more wives he will have, the larger the home to accommodate them all, and the more festivals he will host for the people. The Imammon, a very desirable title, is the one who hosts the three main festivals; the festival of growth, the festival of plenty, and the festival of tranquility."

I got to meet many friends of my wives. They had a dozen young ladies come to wish them well. Mehreen cried a bit when her dearest friend, Baraa, came to say goodbye the morning that we are to head out.

I never know what to do when girls cry. Not that I have much experience with girls at all but still, I get so uncomfortable when they cry. I pat her shoulder and throw a helpless look at Nesrine who thankfully comes to my rescue.

Hermione understood that about me. She would tell me what to do which honestly is a lot easier. But she isnt here now and I need to step up.

What would Hermione tell me to do? She would roll her eyes and exclaim, "Boys!" in that disapproving tone. Then she would look me in the eyes so she knew when I understood her explanation.

So, what would she tell me to do? She would say that Mehreen is probably scared because this is a big change. She would say that I should be patient and offer reassurance that she will be safe.

Actually... Hermione would throw a fit. She would be furious that these girls were given to me like a gift, like something and not someone. She would try to stir a riot and probably get us banned from the whole planet.

But she would also comfort Mehreen. She would wrap an arm around her shoulder and promise her that no one will hurt her. She would have me promise that we will keep her safe, which I would do without hesitation.

So I kneel down beside them, earning a startled squawk from Baraa. I take Mehreen's hands in mine, meeting her doe brown eyes with what I hope is a reasuring expression. There are tear tracks down her red cheeks and the dark coal used to line her eyes have smeared and followed the tears down.

I give her my promise, my promise to them all, that I will keep them safe from any and all dangers. I tell her that she will never go hungry, because even if I don't have enough food for all of us I will make sure that they eat. I tell her that she will have a home even if I have to build it myself. I tell her that she will never be alone or forgotten because we are a family now.

A warmth burns pleasantly in my chest. I have always wanted a family. I have always wanted to belong to someone, to be needed by someone and need them in turn. I still want to get home. I still want to help my friends. But my friends are not powerless or alone.

I press a kiss to her hands. I barely lift my head when she lunges forward to squeeze me in a tight hug. Mehriban wraps around her sisters back, arms circling the both of us as Nesrine drapes herself against my other side.

Emad clears his throat. There are tears falling from his eyes as well as his wife pressed close to his side. Martouf translates for him and I realize that Martouf must have translated for me as well.

"There is great comfort in my heart now, my son. I have no fear for my daughter or my brother's daughters. We bid you all safe travels with all of our blessings upon you."

Leaving is bittersweet but not painful or sad. Many gather to walk with us as far as the city gates. Each of the girls have a cloth bundle tied to their back with thick braided rope. Martouf and I have our purchases, as well as a couple large woven baskets of gifted supplies hanging from a wooden pole tied to our shoulders.

The walk back to the Chappai is a pleasant one. The day is bright and cool with warm yellow sunshine and fragrant flowers in bloom. Mehriban picks a pretty red flower for her hair made of many long thin petals. The girls seem in high spirits and dont even flinch at the root bridge or the veil coming to life.

Stepping through the veil from a lush forest to a scalding desert is a bit of a shock. They blink around in awe. Nesrine even falls to her knees, so shocked by the change.

Martouf says something that has the girls wrapping their veils a bit tighter. A voice calls out, the Tok'ra guard waving us over. We hurry to join them because Martouf warns of a sandstorm approaching.

The tunnels are in a bit of a fluster. Yara, a lovely woman drapped in blue silks, explains. Apparently, there are visitors here now from a world called Tauri. They were sent by Jolinar.

Martouf is moving the moment the name is said. I hurry to follow, recognizing the path to Saroosh and Selmak's room. Sure enough, there are four obviously military people gathered around her bed, speaking with lady Garshaw.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15: meeting the Tauri

The Tauri are more advanced than most of the people we have met. They seem to be a militaristic people who's leadership is an organization called SGC. They wear uniforms, carry some type of weapon that wouldnt look out of place on our home world. At least it looks like something the muggles would have, not that I know for certain.

I try not to interupt. I know that I dont have a place in such meetings but I cant help but hope for my friends. I hope for Lantash and Martouf's sake that Jolinar has been found alive so that they may be reunited with her. I hope that a host has come for my dear friend Selmak. I hope that any alliance created will help my friends, not cause them more pain.

Of the four who arrived, three are human while one is a Jaffa. The Jaffa is named Teal'c, former first prime of Appophis. His betrayal has spread whispers throughout the Jaffa ranks, causing them to question their gods.

Him being here is a bit difficult for the Tok'ra. On one hand, more Tok'ra have been hunted and died at the hands of Jaffa than Gould. On the other, him abandoning his god has given them a stronger foothold in many worlds.

The groups leader is an older serious man named O'Neal. His sense of humor is more scathing than not and he isnt the friendliest person. In fact, he doesnt seem to like the Tok'ra at all.

He has, seven times that I've counted, refered to them as gould or snakes. He wrinkles his nose and acts offended when they are asked if they will host Selmak. He is quite unfriendly for someone who claims to be here to barter an alliance based on friendship.

The other two members of the group are a diplomatic man and a strong beautiful woman. The man tries to sooth the feathers his leader ruffles so callously but it does little good. If it werent for the woman, I doubt the Tok'ra would tolerate this behavior.

The woman is a blessing and a curse all in one. She was overtaken by Jolinar, unwillingly hosting the symbiote for a short time. She was able to tell us how Jolinar died, that she saved this woman's life, but that is a small comfort when Jolinar broke one of their most sacred vows.

The woman, Captain Samantha Carter, explains it well if a bit unsympathetic. She tells us how she was taken, how Jolinar saved her from the ashrak. She tells us how dreams and visions came uncontrolled. It was those visions, memories of Jolinar, that lead them here.

Martouf and Lantash are quiet throughout the explaination. I cant imagine how much they must be hurting. For all that it is a comfort to finally know, actually having that proof is so painfully final.

Lady Garshaw had taken the Tauri to see Selmak and Saroosh. If they came to offer an alliance then surely they intended to blend. Except they seemed offended, even disgusted by the offer.

So at the Tauri's prompting, the council will convene to discuss the option of an alliance. These Tauri have made it clear that they are disgusted by the thought of a blending. I leave them to their discussion. I wouldnt be much help anyways.

I press a kiss to Saroosh's cheek. It is painfull enough, knowing that she is fading but Selmak could be saved! She need not die. Only they have no desire to save her.

My family, or rather my wives, have waited patiently in the hallway. I offer an apology with a short bow, hoping that I gave the pronunciation correctly. They respond in a way that Martouf says means all is forgiven.

I gather up our supplies, carrying both basket weighed staffs on my shoulders. Nesrine gathers up a couple bags, motioning the others to help as well. At least I can show them where we will rest, get them settled. I lead them through the tunnels to my room.

Its a simple enough design, more V than L shaped. The first part of the room goes straight where most slant one way or another. Then it juts back on itself, following along the entrance only to swell out in a club shape at the end.

The middle, where the hall cuts back on itself, has a long counter with a cubby below and shelves above. The second half of the hall has various cubbies throughout. At the clubbed end, a raised bed rests in an indent of the wall with a storage area below the sleeping platform and stone steps leading up to the bed.

I leave the baskets at the bend of the hall. The items in them are for our home, some dyes, spices, cups and dishes, bundles of cloth and small gowns. They were supplies that new wives would get so while they are important, its noting we need right this moment.

Many of the cubbies and shelves are already filled with various books, journals, and game sets. I've taken to filling journals with spells and potions as well as stories that I remember. If I never get back to my world, at least I will have a piece of my world with me.

I clear away a few shelves, motioning them that they are welcome to use them. For all that I have been shopping, I dont have much. Its easy enough to move all of my clothes to one shelf and empty cubbies of the games or trinkets they held.

It will be difficult, us not knowing a common language. Martouf has offered to tutor me in Marloi, the language of Marloon. That way I will be able to do more than mime to them.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16: A moment to settle

I may not understand their language but I know that my wives are not comfortable with how open our room is to the hall. I cant put a solid door but I can hang up a thick cloth to offer them some privacy.

The first cloth I hang is over the bed, hiding it from the room. Its a thick woven quilt of dark red with a whooly brown backing. There is golden yarn embroidered throughout creating the image of a large tree with trailing branches like a willow and small rabbit like animals.

The second is at the end of the deeper hall, just before it cuts to the hall leading out. Its strangely dry but soft and flexible. It was explained as either a prayer rug or a decorative tapestry woven from some kind of plant fiber. It has a swirl of colors stained into it without any discernible shapes; sunshine yellow, vibrant ruby reds, peaches and plums and oranges.

Mehreen exclames excitedly over the new doors. She pets at the quilt over the bed, eyes wide in awe. She leans back against the sleeping mat only to shout out excitedly.

The sleeping mat is made of brown animal hides, soft to the touch, and stuffed with a type of soft sweet smelling hay. There are two rectangular pillows made of rabbit fur. I added a few cushioning charms but honestly, it was already more comfortable than my bed at the Dursley's.

Mehriban scrambles up the steps to join her sister. She fumbles a bit, I suppose they're surprised at the softness of the sleeping mat. They fall into a giggling mess, rolling around and laughing in delight.

Nesrine smiles at her cousins antics but doesnt join them. Instead, she drags their bundles over to the shelves and starts unpacking. The bundles open neatly on the floor, consisting mostly of colorful cloths, a large woven basket, a small wooden box, and a hairbrush.

She first sets the large woven basket on the top shelf. When I point to it, making a curious sound, she opens it with a smile. Inside it at the top are two tiny gowns in the palest creme color. She pulls them out as well as a soft knitted sheep like animal and a tiny thin shirt with a hood. The small box contains two thin golden necklace chains.

My cheeks burn at the baby items, earning a giggle from her. She puts the items back and sets the lids in place. The hairbrush and ribbons are placed next to the box with a teasing smile thrown my way.

Next there are two dresses, both in shades of pink and red, that she pulls from her bundle. Three veils of green, yellow, and purple are refolded and added to the shelf. There are some smaller red and purple cloths that she bundles and somewhat hides behind her veils.

I feel a bit silly, just watching her, so I start to unpack my own bags. I add a leather bound journal to others within a cubby. The pottery set, with plates shaped to look like flowers, is set in a spare cubby near the halfway curve. I fold the cloth they were packed it, offering it to Nesrine who accepts it with a smile.

Nesrine calls out, glancing up at her cousins. Mehreen joins her, leaving her veil behind on the bed area. Her rich black hair is braided and twisted into a bun at the base of her head. Mehriban joins them, her own veil left behind but her braid hanging loose to trail down her back.

The twins have similar items in their bundles. They both have two dresses and three veils. Their dresses are different colors, one has green and orange while the other has yellow and purple. They both have the same woven baskets although they dont have the wooden boxes.

I unfold the reed backed mat that I bought, laying it out on the floor. The soft knit blanket is folded but Nesrine motions for it so I hand it over. She lays it on the top shelf with their baskets.

Mehriban moves over to me. She begins plucking other items from the packages to see what treasures I have. Besides the games and books, I dont have much. It is something I will need to remedy soon.

Nesrine settles comfortably on the floor mat, pulling her veil off and folding it neatly. Her hair is pulled back in two braids from the crown of her head to the base where it hangs loose until it reaches halfway down her back. Evenly spaced down the braid are small thin gold rings, no bigger than hoop earings.

"Harry, a moment," Lantash calls from the outer hall.

I offer a short bow to the girls and slip past the second curtain to follow the room back to the hall. Lantash stands just within the door, his body tense. He offers a sad smile, one he seems to have a little real hope in.

"What has happened?"

"It is a comfort to now know the fate of our mates but..."

"But it feels like you are losing them all over again," I offer softly.

He clears his throat, "Yes, but there is some good news. The Tauri have offered a host for Selmak."

"They have?" I dont mean to be skeptical but they certainly didnt seem too keen on the idea before. In fact, they seem upset at being asked.

"We will have to move our base, now that we know the Tauri know we are here," he begins hesitant. "Oryn has assured me that your good father has come by in our absence. He has settled well on the world we sent the slaves to. He wishes you to join him."

"We just unpacked," I wish I had considered that before but at least it will be easy to pack up again. "How soon will we need to leave?"

"By morning."

Chapter Text

Chapter 17: Moving to our new home

Many Tok'ra spend the night calmly moving their home through the veil. They are accustomed to having to leave urgently so this move is less hectic for them. Organized groups slip away with small wagons full of trunks as tunnels are carefully collapsed once cleared.

Their movements are almost dance-like in how well they move around one another. They work together to empty one hall at a time. Some Tok'ra pack items, bringing them to the end of the hall where others gather the items to take to their new world. I offer to help but they are unhurried and so unbothered by the move.

One Tok'ra scientist, Anise, pulls me aside for a last minute test. She has been one of the more frustrated of the group that has tried studying my magic. She has me transfigure a rock into a live plant while she records it. She huffs and complains and mumbles as she waves me away, still disbelieving of what my magic can do.

Another Tok'ra, Edmon, passes me a woven basket of food as I leave the science wing. Edmon is a kind Tok'ra whose host, Bastian, is a bit too shy to speak much. He is one of the scientists that while disbelieving, was genuinely intrigued by what my powers are capable of doing.

I have a lot of supplies to move, especially with my wives so I transfigure a low flat wagon for us to use. Its a long narrow thing that I pull through the tunnels on my way back to my room.

Heeti waves me over as he directs another group through the rings, "I will take you to good father at sunrise."

"Will I be able to visit you all at your new home?" I ask quietly.

"I am sorry, young Harry, but our home must be kept secret."

It just feels a bit like falling through the veil all over again. It feels permanent somehow. How will we ever get back home?

When I voice my concerns Heeti just casts me a sad look, "I am sorry that we could not be of more help, my friend."

"Oh, no!" I hurry to reasure, "You have all been brilliant to us. Truly, we would have nothing without the help of the Tok'ra which we do greatly appreciate."

Another group is coming so I step aside to let them pass. I know it isnt Heeti's fault. I know they have to be careful because what they do is very dangerous. I leave with an offer of assistance should the Tok'ra ever need it.

I try to explain to the ladies what is happening. It involves a lot of miming but they seem to understand. They help me pack up our items, securing them to the wagon with some rope and twine. I leave the doors up until we get ready to leave.

I let them have the bed for the night. I dont understand what it is they say in return but I wave them off and settle down on the prayer mat. Its not so bad but I dont sleep well. I cant help but feel we are moving further from home.

Morning comes dry and smothering. I wish it were grey, clouded or wet. It feels disrespectful, the weather being undisturbed when Saroosh was lost last night. Her funeral is held at dawn, a pyre set before the veil so that opening it will cast her into oblivion.

At least I was able to say goodbye to Selmak before leaving. She has taken an elder man of the Tauri, named Jacob, as their new host. Mr. Jacob seems like a nice man and he did save Selmak so I am grateful for that. I just wish that Saroosh could've been saved.

Oryn takes us through the veil to where Sirius is settled. The world is warm with a thick forest growing up to the veil steps. The sun is almost too bright.

Oryn leads us down the steps and into the tall grass. The ground is uneven even without the thick brush so he tells me we will have to carry our supplies. He takes one end of the wagon and I lift the other after casting a quick featherweight charm to lighten the load.

There is some type of small monkey, screeching and howling as they jump through the thin bamboo trees. The girls eye them fearfully but thankfully they dont come down. It doesnt take us long to reach the semi-cleared area that Sirius and the freed people have set up.

The area is all exposed dirt and packed grey clay. The clay rises up, smoothing out into walls and sloped roofs. They have obviously been working hard to build up homes, all pressed close together.

"Puppy!" Sirius tackles me in a tight hug, causing me to drop my hold on the wagon.

He is almost unrecognizable after so long here. His once greying wild mane has been trimmed and now rest softly just past his ears. His skin, sickly grey before, is tanned and strong now. There is a lightness to him now, something relaxed in his posture that wasnt there before.

He leans back, eyeing me concerned, "Heeti said you got hurt but Martouf was helping you?"

"Yeah, but I'm fine now, I promise."

He accepts it but the worried wrinkle on his brow doesnt fade. He glances past me, finally noticing the ladies. His lips quirk up into a smile as he motions them closer.

"Who are your friends, Pup?"

My ears burn as I explain, "Well... since I got hurt helping someone... the family I helped wanted to... well... Martouf said it would ruin them if I refused and they have been nice. That is... Martouf said that its normal with their people... with many people... er... on many worlds..."

"Pup?" Sirius says with an almost warning tone.

"I'm married," I blurt out. "They're my wives?... Nesrine, Mehreen and Mehriban."

He barely contains a laugh, pressing a kiss to my forehead with only a mild teasing. He offers the ladies a short bow and a charming smile, pressing a kiss to their hands as I introduce them again individually. At least he isn't mad that I got married.

With far too much amusement, he leads us off to our new home. Oryn waves goodbye as we walk away. We pass many freed people. Most are working with the grey clay, patching and smoothing another cube shaped building pressed against the others to create a border wall of sorts.

We stop at a long tall two story building made of the grey clay. The open doorway leads into a central sitting room with a wide low fireplace. A staircase rises along the right wall with bamboo stalks as the railing and shelves carved into the wall of the stairs.

The main room is only sparsely furnished. There is a table and chairs made of bamboo stalks and woven reed like stalks sitting to one side while a mound of furs and cushions spread out in the middle. A couch is molded as part of the wall beneath the stairs but it is only clay, no cushions to soften it.

Two roundish doorways lead out of the room, one on either side. Sirius points out his on the right at the foot of the stairs as he leads us to the left. The room within is square shaped with a low couch made of bamboo stalks and stretched fur. There is a loft that takes up part of the room. A plush transfigured matress lay bare at the top but there is nothing beneath.

Sirius tries chatting with the girls but is disappointed when he's reminded they dont speak our language. He helps us unpack, laughing and exclaiming over several things I bought. I give him the set of knives made with antler handles as I bought them for him anyways as well as a blank journal.

He helps me hang up the woven reed mat at the doorway. I hang the thick red quilt up to shield the bed again. My blankets are added to the bedding while my books, games,and other odds and ends get left in the area under the loft to organize later.

It isnt long before we're he says it's meal time. The meals are communal in the open courtyard like area. Its a simple stew, mostly full of colorful carrots, peas, something like a turnip, and black meat that tastes like chicken.

I gather bowls for the girls as they seem nervous of the crowd. It will be difficult for them, since I dont know their language and its unlikely anyone gere will know it, but we will manage. I will just have to work with them on learning each others language.

"Stew," I tell them, passing each one a bowl, then naming the 'spoon' and 'cup' as I pass them over.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18:

I wake early from a restless sleep in the dimly lit room. I must've forgotten to cast cushioning charms on the couch because there is an ache low in my back and a tension in my shoulders. I try to stretch it out but it stubbornly remains.

I know that I should've slept its just... I cant help but worry. I'm worried about getting home. Will we ever get home? Should we even try or is it hopeless?

Hermione would know what to do. She was always so much smarter than the rest of us. She would have this whole mess figured out in a day or two tops but she isnt here and I have to figure it out.

Its not that I'm afraid of starting over. The world we left didn't treat me or Sirius very well. He spent thirteen years in the worse prison imaginable without a trial for a crime he never committed while I was dumped at the Dursley's without a backwards glance. Just for that, I dont think anyone woukd blame us for saying good riddance.

It just seems, the more I think back on things, the more suspicious it all seems. Why didn't Sirius have a trial? Why wasn't I given to a wizarding family? At Christmas, Sirius said that he and I are cousins so is it possible that I have other relatives? If so, why was I never told? Why was I never told anything?

Scratching at my scalp does little to relieve the ache building at my temples. The world I came from wasn't perfect but it was home. Wasn't it?

The only light in the room comes from a simple glass lantern in a wall cubbie. It throws a soft blue glow through the room. We will need a few more throughout the room to truly brighten it up now that I have the doorways covered.

I let the girls have the loft bed last night. I made sure to make the bed soft with cushioning charms and thick quilts for them. They will need their own rooms soon but for now they dont seem to mind sharing a bed.

That just leads me to another concern. I'm married now. I'm Married! What in the Bloody Hell am I supposed to do now?

I cant exactly take them with me to my old world. If Voldemorte and his Death Eaters dont kill them the the wizarding world will shun them for not having magic. Prejudice is so rampant that they dont seem to realize just how bad it is. I mean, for all that I dont like the Dursley's, if they are my guardians then shouldnt they actually be able to stop me from going when I was eleven? And shouldn't someone have contacted them when I was hurt? Muggles are considered less than human by everyone, even light wizards. Some are just worse about it than others.

I cant leave them behind here either. I promised their family that I would take care of them. I promised Them! They need me and... honestly, I want a family. All I've ever wanted was a family.

Yes, it will be difficult with the language issue but we can work around that. I may not have a luxurious home for them now but I didnt have Any home before. At least now I have the freedom to try something... make something of myself.

There is freedom here, so far from home. Sirius is healthy. Neither of us are being hunted. We're both free. We're both Free!

A group of birds trill brightly outside. I slip past the cloth door into the main room which is brightened by a low warm fire. The open doorway outside is still dark but its a brighter dark on the cusp of dawn.

"Couldnt sleep, Pup?"

I startle, not noticing Sirius as he leans in the doorway to his room. He grins impishly, "You're looking a little unsteady this morning, Pup. Did you have a good night?"

"Didnt get much sleep, I guess," I answer with a yawn. "What are we doing today?"

"Well, that's understandable even if you are quieter than most people," Sirius winks mischievously. "But as for today, we are working on building up more houses."

"How does that work?" I ask, sitting down on the fur near the fireplace and failing to will away the blush burning my cheeks. Nothing happened last night. I may be married but I'm not... that is, I haven't...

Sirius joins me on the floor, groaning exaggeratingly as he does, "Its really quite simple. We have a group of kids stomping and mixing clay, sand, and water with long grass. They stomp it until its good and mixed and a little smooth. Some of the people work to mould it into shape for the buildings and I use flamare spell to set the clay."

"How do they mould it?"

"By hand," he says, pointing out little odd spots and imperfections in the walls around us, "Everything is done by hand. The only tools we have are a few knives, some wooden pitchforks, and a few carved picks."

"I thought we gave them some supplies when we first brought them here?"

He rubs tiredly at his eyes, "We didnt have time to gather much, not for how many people we have here. The cloth went quickly to make clothes for several who were naked or nearly so. The animals and food we bought them is long gone."

"How are you keeping everyone here fed?" I ask worriedly.

He ruffles his own hair, "We've been scraping by day by day. Sometimes we fish although the river near here only has a small breed and the meat doesnt go far. We sometimes catch this big black turkey thing. Or maybe it's a short ostrich? "

"How long will our supplies last?"

"What supplies?!" He lets out a deep gusty sigh, "We dont have any supplies! We're living day to day and that is our biggest problem. We've been scraping by but only barely."

"I could go to the markets," I offer.

He shakes his head, "We tried to go back to To'Dette already and we lost three guys when the Jaffa attacked."

"Have you tried any other worlds?"

"What worlds?!" He snaps tiredly, "I dont know any other worlds and the few people here that do remember the code to their world cant help because their worlds are where they were enslaved."

Its more obvious now, how stressed he has been. I didnt notice it at first with how healthy he looks but there are signs. Dark shadows his eyes and while he is not as sickly, he is still too thin.

If only...

"How did they know it was you?"

He shrugs so I try a different way, "Did they recognize you or the slaves? What did they see that made them realize who you were?"

I can see the moment he realizes what I'm asking. His forhead wrinkles, his eyes squeezed shut, and his lips press themselves thin. He understands now and is probably cursing at himself for not realizing sooner.

With a sigh and a shake of his head he grumbles amused, "I guess we're going shopping."

Chapter Text

Chapter 19: return to market

The market at To'Dette is drastically different from before.

When we came before it was all overfilled and crowded. The market began at the veil steps and stretched far beyond where the eye could see. There was barely any room to move around and it was far too easy to get lost.

Now...

A tall and wide wooden wall has been erected. There are two doorways, one almost directly to our left and the other on our right but halfway to center. The once thunderous sounds of the market seem far too muffled, nearly silent in this enclosure.

A group of five Jaffa stand at attention on either side of the veil steps. Their metal grey armor is polished to shine and they keep their staff weapons held in a tight grip. They do not look us in the eye but they seem to stare us down all the same.

With an angry scowl, they direct us to a long table set up at the base of the steps. There are a dozen Jaffa walking around behind the table while three men sit on short stools. They each have a stack of thick paper and a heavy wooden stamp.

Sirius and I cast a mild glamor charm on ourselves before stepping through. Not enough to really change our features but enough to not be recognized. We also placed a light notice me not charm, just so that no one looks too closely at us. Between the spells and our simple tan and dark red robes, both of which were common the last time we visited, we are just another face in the crowd... or thats the plan.

"Your name and home world," calls a hunched grouchy bald man with thick black markings around his eyes and on his right cheek that match the other two men.

"Orion," Sirius steps forward confidently, "as I am searching for a proper dower gift for my son's wife."

The man eyes us shrewdly. He almost looks accusingly but after a few moments of awkward silence he scribbles on a five inch sheaf of parchment. Sirius takes the parchment with a slight bow when its held out.

"Merchant will stamp," the man states while jabbing a finger at the paper accusingly. "You will return form here when you leave, Understood!"

Sirius raises an eyebrow but nods his agreement. Another bow which I copy this time and we are free to enter the market. We remain under suspicious glares as we pass through the doors.

The market has been pushed back, leaving a couple yards clear between the wall and the first tent. Although you cant really call them tents because they are no more than canopies stretched between tall wooden poles. There is also more room between each 'shop' leaving the isles wide enough for five people to walk side by side.

The first shops we come to both sell rolls and rolls of rugs of various shapes and sizes. They are stiff, made of something more corse than cotton, perhaps reeds or plant fibers like the one from Marloon. The two men working the shops start shouting offers before we even reach them.

Sirius leads us down the path without sparing either man so much as a glance. The next two stalls are also selling rugs but not as many. One also has prayer mats and some kind of mat made from wood bark. The other has several piles of thick furs.

I tap Sirius on the shoulder but he just shakes his head and so we keep walking. We have to step aside with low bows as a troup of armored Jaffa stomp angrily down the center of the path.

I have to admit, I like the market better now. It isnt as crowded. The paths are easier to navigate and they even put signs up in various languages to guide you.

Still, it is too quiet, too tense. The people here only smile to sell you something and even then their attempts seem half-hearted. For all the vibrant colors in their wares, it feels as if the whole world is painted grey.

Our first stop is an area with several grocers tents. We seperate so that its less noticeable when we shrink items. It honestly takes longer to convince people to sell to us without stamping the form.

I buy twelve barrels of corn from seven different vendors. I get three barrels of apples from one vender and another sells me six large wheels of cheese. I get several nets full of applelike fruit, several bushels of greens, celery, cabbage, and turnips. I get potatoes from ten vendors and tomatoes from eight of them. One vender sells me all of his cheese crumbles while another sells me five large vases of olive oil. Each item is shrunken and stashed in my bag.

Sirius waves me over with an impish grin, "Doing good, Pup?"

I wave a fistfull of dried herbs which he answers with a sack full of a dark purple root vegetable. The people are charging us more, mostly because we dont want them using the form, but they arent arguing. They also conveniently dont notice when we shrink our purchases.

We swing by an area full of spices, buying pouches here and there but never too much from anyone. We ignore the dyes but we do purchase several casks of tea, coffee, and something that smells warmly of hazslnut and chocolate.

We curve away to an area full of blacksmiths next. The Jaffa patrol this area in larger groups but they move quickly because the heat is thicker here due to the many fires roaring. The sound of hammers striking metal drowns out the clanking of the Jaffa's armor.

Sirius moves from one blacksmith to the next. He buys several axes from one, several long blades and short knives from another, even a bunch of hammers, nails and arrowheads from the next. The blacksmiths care less about the forms, shrugging and accepting the extra coin for their silence.

We buy a lunch of smoked meat stuffed in bread with a hard cheese, toasted hot and delicious. They sell it in a little reed basket with fried fat potatoes covered in a creamy spicy sauce. There is also a long sharp stick with thick pieces of fruit and a wooden cup full of a cucumber tea drink.

Its a refreshing stop which Sirius happily offers the form for them to press a stamp to. One of the other customers explains as we eat that the forms are mostly for taxes. Apparently, whoever rules this world decided to triple taxes to pay for the extra security and 'safety measures' employed as a result of some rebel attack. Sirius grins back, proud to be labeled a rebel even if he cant take credit for it yet.

After we eat, we browse through several jewelry stalls. Sirius motions me forward encouragingly, "Trust me at this, Pup, no matter the world, every woman wants to feel pretty. Jewelry is always a good idea."

I dont really know enough about my wives to know what they would like. Should I get them something thin and dangling or thick and heavy? Should it be gold or silver? Should there be gems or beads?

Sirius throws an arm across my shoulders with a teasing laugh, "I'll help you this time but next time its all you. Aright, Pup?"

At my eager nod he brings me over to one jewelers table. The jewelry here is mostly made of small glass beads wrapped in thin wire. Many of the necklaces, headdress, and earings are woven in oval or diamond shapes.

He tells me in a serious tone, "You should treat them equal but different. They are not just your wives but they are in fact their own person. Each one will have their own likes and dislikes, their own preferences and personality. If you are serious about being a good husband to them then you will have to get to know them, not just lug them into the group of my wife."

"I understand."

"Good, so what can you tell me about them?"

What do I know? I know Mehriban and Mehreen are twins. I know Nesrine is older but not by much. I know Nesrine is her fathers youngest while the twins are their parents only daughters. But that doesnt help me here, does it.

I know that Mehreen only really had her close friend Baraa. I know Mehriban had many friends, all young and many were giggly. I know Nesrine had several friends, many either just married or soon to be. But again, thats not helping me here.

I know that Nesrine has some thin jewelry, chains given to her by her grandmother. They are fragile so she doesnt wear them but she does treasure them greatly. I know she doesn't get them out and that neither Mehriban nor Mehreen has even that. I know that while their clothes are bright colors, they are not embroidered or covered in gems like some on their home world.

I leave the jewelers table. As beautiful as those pieces are, they arent quite right. No, what I need is something that will make them feel at home. Thats what they need.

I spend quite a while shopping for them, longer than I probably should but each time I found something I would find something else. At least the merchants were happy with us even if we spent a couple hours going back and forth.

I dont really feel comfortable buying them jewelry yet but I should get them something. I try to find things they will like, things they can use. Sirius beams back proudly at my choices. Maybe I can actually do this right.

"And now, for our last stop."

Sirius leads us to an area where livestock is kept. Its on the far side of the market, furthest from the veil. The whole area smells of urine and wet hay, the air buzzing with flies.

There are fewer Jaffa troups in this area. The tent canopies are thinner, fluttering easily in the rare breeze. The people are quieter, not bothering to shout compellingly at you but rather watching calmly as you browse.

Sirius waves over a man sitting in the shade of a wide circular wooden pen. The animals are the horned llamas that I learnt about last time. They are taller and fluffier than I expected them to be.

A troop of Jaffa passes around the other side of the circle, continuing their endless march. When I glance back at Sirius he is already handing over several golden coins. The man shrugs his shoulders indifferently but waves Sirius to the herd with a dismissive huff.

"How many did you buy?"

Sirius winks mischievously, "I bought the whole herd."

I glance around at the calmly grazing animals. The herd is probably about fifty animals or so. Sirius casts a few subtle spells, a magic rope connects each animal and anyone looking this way seem to gaze right past us.

He does the same at two other stalls. He passes me two of the rope leads and we move around the outside of the market and back to the veil. No one seems to really notice us moving the herds or if they do they dont seem suspicious.

"How do we sneak past the guards with all of these animals without them getting suspicious?"

Sirius smirks back, "Who said we need to sneak?"

I dont even try to hide the sigh that slumps my shoulders as a creature of flames and smoke erupts from Sirius's wand to destroy the wall enclosing the veil. So much for us not causing trouble.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20:

Streams of smoke follow us through the veil.

The animals scream in displeasure. They stumble and race, trying to break free of the ropes binding them. I let them pull me further from the veil as Sirius steps through with his herd.

"Was that really necessary?"

He barks out a laugh, "Of course it was, Pup. Did you see their faces?!"

"What if there were innocent people there?"

"There weren't," he waves me off dismissively.

Sirius casts several spells in quick succession. The bitter smoke fades away. The animals calm, settling to gentle chitters while nuzzling one another almost drunkenly.

I start unshrinking our purchases as he transfigures long wagons from the tall grass around us. I stack our purchases, casting featherlight charms as each barrel is added. He tosses me his bag to unshrink as he sets up some of the animals to pull the wagons.

"How can you be sure?" I finally ask.

He sighs, looking back at me almost pityingly, "I scanned their surface thoughts. Those guys... they werent good people, Pup. They deserved it. Trust me, Pup."

Looking away I confess, "I'm just worried that it will be the merchants that suffer because of us."

A strong hand squeezes my shoulder in comfort. Sirius watches me with understanding in his steel grey eyes, "It is not our fault when bad people hurt others. Some people are bad. Some people will always find a reason to hurt others. It is Not. Our. Fault!"

I'm not sure what answer I would've given because a voice calls out excitedly. Several people, men and women, come running forward with wide smiles and joyous praise. Sirius turns to them with a proud beaming grin.

They help us lead the animals out to our little village. Its made more difficult because of the lack of anything resembling a road. Sirius grumbles about that being the next big project.

When we left, Sirius tasked the hunters to build a large animal pen. They did indeed build it. Its just, they built it on the far side of the village where the land is somewhat more even.

Nearly the whole village rushes out to meet us. Some of the smaller children are pulled back but most run excitedly to crowd us. The animals shy a little but seem mostly unbothered by the impromptu celebration.

It takes longer to get to the pen. People start grabbing bags, baskets, and barrels. Sirius shouts orders as he hands out sweets to the kids nearly climbing all over him.

I take my personal purchases and slip out of the crowd. They let me slip away with pats on the back and a few almost clingy touches. They seem to have a system for supplies and I dont want to get in the way.

Mehriban meets me before I get through the crowd. A yellow veil is tied tightly around her head and neck, making her doe brown eyes shine brightly. She smiles at me, unbothered by those around us.

I offer my arm which she takes without hesitation. I wish I knew her language. I wish I could ask her how things went while I was gone. I wish I could ask her what her favorite color is or if she has a favorite food.

Mehreen stands at the open doorway of our home. She toys nervously with one end of her purple veil which she wears more as a shawl. Her hair is braided into a crown to wrap around her head with only a few flyaway strands.

She smiles at our approach, looking somewhat relieved. She speaks, her sister answers in a boastful tone. She bows with a grateful look.

I guide them both back inside where Nesrine offers a polite greeting that I actually know the reply to. She tucks one of the wooden game boards onto a shelf near the fire. The main room has one of our thicker blankets on the couch and the furs have been spread out more to act as rugs instead of just sitting in a pile.

They must've spent their time rearranging the home. We didnt have much here to start with. Even if it felt like we brought a lot with us, it isnt enough to fill the large empty home Sirius built. They emptied out our room of everything except our clothes and bedding by the looks of it.

It does look better, more lived in, with a few books or journals in different cubbies and games tucked on shelves throughout the room. They even strung up one of our coarse woven mats over the other bedroom's doorway and a thin quilt over the main door, tied back with one of their hair ribbons. As long as they didnt bother anything inside Sirius's room then I dont think he will care.

I motion them to sit down. Nesrine lowers herself gracefully to kneel on the thickest fur laying before the fireplace. Mehreen and Mehriban join her, sitting more relaxed to her left.

Kneeling down on the edge of the fur, I start seperating their gifts. I bought them each a gift individually and a gift for us to share. Hopefully I didnt get this too wrong.

For Nesrine, I bought a wicker basket filled with spools of thread in almost every color and long thin needles stabbing an apple-sized knitted ball. She claps her hands, smiling brightly as I show her the different colored threads inside, including one that looks like spun gold. Now she can add her own embroidery to her dresses and veils if she would like to.

For Mehriban, I chose a bright beaded necklace. The beads are small rectangular pale wooden pieces, carved into various shapes and painted. The beads are suspended by a thin thread to dangle down in close lines, five to eight beads per string. Its a stretched diamond shape, nearly twice as wide as it is long.

She exclaims excitedly, nearly squealing in excitement. She motions for me to help her put it on. My cheeks warm but I manage to get it tied in place without issue. She follows me as I lean back, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

With Mehreen, I was a little uncertain. She only really had one good friend whom she had known since childhood. Everyone described her as sweet and quiet but no one mentioned her hobbies or likes. So I trusted Sirius on this one, getting her a necklace made of four thin golden chains of different lengths that each have a flat square grey pendant etched with different flowers.

The top one, sitting just below her neckline, has what looks like a daisy. The second is long and thin stem with small bell shaped flowers while the third flower is made of several small star shaped blooms. The fourth is the largest with the flower made of dozens of long thin oval petals in three layers. Each flower has a small flash of gold poured in lines bordering the pendants.

Mehreen lunges forward with a joyous shout. Her lips press, soft and warm, to my own. My ears burn and I cant meet her eyes but she doesnt seem bothered as she prompts me to put the necklace on her. The twins are both squealing excitedly, chattering away as they compare their gifts.

Our family gift almost seems anticlimactic after the excitement of their individual gifts but I show them all the same. I worry that they may be lonely here so I bought us all a floral teapot with six matching mugs, a thin milk cup, and a small sugar box. There are a dozen small bags of tea, including one that smells of chocolate. Its my hope that we can have tea together most days and when they make friends here, we can host them.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21: thunder rolls

A thunderous crash startles me awake. It is followed almost immediately by a deep long rumble that rolls out to the distance. With not even a second between the lightening strike and the thunder rolling, the storm must be right on top of us.

Another crash of lightening startles screams from the bed loft. I barely have time to toss back the quilt before all three girls come barreling down the steps to leap onto my bedding. Their loose nightdresses do little to keep out the coolness of the night but their trembling is probably more from fright than cold. My own thin shirt and boxers are little help against the cool air so different from the daytime.

There isnt much room but I readjust the bedding to allow them a warm place to sit. All three are talking, frightened voices too fast for me to even attempt to comprehend. I try to reasure them but between the nearly constant lightening and the deafening thunder, I'm not sure if they understand.

I stand up, gently removing their hands and repeating reassurances that I know they dont understand. I keep up the assurances, louder to be heard over the thunder, as I slip through the doorway. I just need to check on Sirius.

The thin sheet over the front door whips wildly in a shrill wind. Lightening flashes, flaring light blindingly bright as rain pelts further into the room. Water snakes nearly to the center furs so I yank them up, tossing them towards the couch to keep them dry.

Grabbing the third rug is when I spot padfoot, still as a statue. His black furred form, while usually massive, is curled almost too small against the corner of the room. His eyes, pale grey as the storm, stare frozen at the doorway.

"Padfoot," I call but he doesnt answer. "Padfoot? Sirius?"

Frightened screams call from outside. The sheet over the door rips off, flinging itself across the room violently. I try again to call to Sirius but he doesnt answer.

A baby cries outside, several voices crying out in fear.

Crying comes from my room, frightened voices pleading in Marloi.

Padfoot stays frozen, body tense.

I rush back into my room, grabbing my wand. There are still too many people here that dont yet have homes. Since ours is the sturdiest, it is safe but the people outside are not.

An impervious charm on my glasses keep the rain from blinding me completely the moment I step outside. I should've grabbed some pants at least, cursing as goosebumps shiver up my bare legs. The rain comes down harshly at a slant, repeatedly changing directions when the wind blasts back and forth. Several branches, small and large, are tossed around violently.

Lightening illuminates a thick black cloud slowly winding itself downward.

A tornado!

I throw the strongest protego spell over our home. Another is cast over the buildings to either side of us. Both are full of people cowering from the storm.

I run towards the center of our little villiage. Most of the men have been sleeping here, giving the solid buildings to the women and children while they build more. They crowd against the walls trying to seek some form of shelter.

Lightening strikes the ground.

Several thin trees are ripped from the ground, smacking harshly against the buildings.

The black cloud stretches downward as a similar piece curls upward from the ground.

"GET INSIDE!" I shout over the rolling thunder. "Get everyone inside the buildings!"

I cast protego again and again on each building I see. The men are slow to respond, their thin tattered clothes soaked. I shout out again, screaming over the storm and slowly, too slowly, they shuffle into the nearest buildings.

Strange scream/shrieks come from the other side of the villiage. Bloody Hell, the animals! I have to get them inside too!

I shout again, calling for help with the animals. Several men break away, responding quicker than before. A few hastily transfigured doors with long thin slants to allow airflow closes up the buildings. Hopefully it will keep out the worst of the storm.

I race off to the animal pens with a couple dozen men. Conjured ropes help corral the animals. I cast the spells Sirius taught me to calm them but it does little good against the fierceness of the storm.

The nearest building has several elderly as well as a few with missing limbs hiding inside. They clear out, grabbing their blankets and following shouted directions to our home as we herd the animals inside. I order some of the men to help the elderly, get them inside as quickly as possible.

Lightening strikes.

A large tree whips past us, knocking three guys to the ground and sending the animals into another panic.

"HELP THEM!" I direct two men, taking the ropes from their hands and waving them to the injured.

"Get the animals inside!" I order as I cast more calming spells on them.

The moment the last animal is shoved inside, I transfigure a thick stone door. Sticking charms and protego on the door and the building should keep the animals safe. More small trees are beaten against the building as the tornado crawls closer.

"GET INSIDE!" I shout at the people, urging them to run even as the wind throws more branches at us.

There is already a crowd in our house when I stumble through the door. Padfoot is no longer against the wall but when I glance into my room I see him curled up with the twins, still in his grim form. Nesrine stands in the doorway to our room, eyes wide and pale.

I try to reasure her. I try to explain, even though she doesnt understand. Not for the first time, I curse myself for not getting some sort of translation book before we left the Tok'ra. If nothing else, it wouldve given me a way to reasure them that they will be safe.

I turn back to the room, calling those injred to move nearer the fireplace. A quick transfiguration puts a solid door in place. Another protego is cast on the building as three loud thumps echo one after another.

"Mato!" An elderly man shouts over the croud. "Where is Mato?!"

Several look around as a few hurry to reasure the man. He shakes his head at their assurances, "He went to find the fishers! He went to warn them of the storm!"

"I will go!" One man calls out, first to the elder, then turning to me.

The man is tall and strong, clothed in only a thin skirt tighted around his waist with twine. His head is shaved to stubble but his black beard is well kept. His left arm ends at the wrist, almost unnoticeable at first glance.

"Please, my lord, allow me to retrieve Mato and the fishers."

"Who are the fishers?" An even better question, "Where are they?"

Chapter Text

Chapter 22: the fishers

Explainations have to be shouted over the storm as we race to get ahead of the storm.  

The man is called Samir.  He and I were the only ones willing to brave the distance to the fishers.  Everyone else is safe, the spells strengthened before we left. It would be a harsh run to reach the fishers but a necessary one.

Samir says that when all of the slaves arrived, some had broken away from the main group.  They were a bit more skittish, more injured from their time enslaved by the Gould.  They felt it would be safer for them away from the main village.  

"They do not avoid us," he reasures me as we run full speed through a bamboo forest that does little to slow the winds.  "They rest near a river, bring us fish.  They have been good to us as we struggled more with so many people and so little food."

The planet here has an abundance of shallow rivers and bamboo forests.  There are some trees, thin willow like things with long trailing leaves on whip thin stems.  The storm has the entire forest tossing so dangerously violent it is almost too dangerous to risk.

"How far away are they?"

He shouts a warning instead of an answer.

A tree uptoots in front of us, spraying us with dirt and debris.  Samir nearly tackles me out of the way as the tree is then slammed into the ground where we stood.  A hastily cast protego is all that saves us from being impaled by the wood shards.

I grab at his hand only for my fingers to slip from the wet stump of his wrist.  I throw him an apologetic look but his eyes are narrowed away, eagle sharp gaze searching out the path ahead.  A tight grip on his forearm helps me get back to my feet.  

We're running again.

The bamboo stalks are battling about like reeds in the wind.  

A few small monkeys do their best to hold on.  

A snake, slender and yellow, flies past me to barely catch itself on a bamboo stalk.

The storm is wide and fierce.  Lightening strikes repeatedly to our right.  The rumbling thunder is nearly continuous.  

We dont seem able to outrun the storm but it does lessen some the further from the village we get.  Its following us, the storm.  Its path, devastatingly deadly, is aiming for the fishers homes next.

"We must hurry!"

Its not really a villiage.  

A dozen small round bamboo huts sit in a line about thirty feet from the rivers edge.  They are made with cut stalks pushed into the sand and tied in place with braided vines.  The roof is a combination of large flat leaves, overlaping one another even if the storm has already torn most away, and more bamboo stalks sandwiching them in place.

There is a central firepit, dug wide and shallow.  Two vine nets stand suspended between bamboo, one torn away to flap violently in the wind and the other with large dead fish caught in the net.  There are a few lounge like chairs all facing the water while several hammock chairs made of woven leaves and vines hang from nearby trees.  

There are two boats sitting at the rivers edge.  Both made of bamboo stalks and large green leaves woven together with long green fibers.  Near them are several fishing spears stabbed into the sand.

 It would be beautiful, almost like a little slice of paradise, if it werent for the storm.  The rain is so thick you can barely see.  The river churns and splashes against the shore violently.  The entire place looks like a living nightmare.

We reach the huts as lightening strikes the sand for the first time.  The light illuminates the whole area for a split second before everything is again lost to darkness.  The thunder is loud enough to shake the ground beneath our feet.

One of the hammock chairs is ripped from its tree and lost to the wind.

A spear made of long bamboo with three sharpened points at one end slams into the ground ahead of us.

Samir leads the way to the first hut.  It has several people crowded within.  They are nearly naked, just strips of cloth wrapped around their waists to preserve some modesty.  I blink a bit stupidly at the bare breasts of the two women within and miss whatever it is Samir says to them.

"Where can we go?" One woman asks, whip like scars curving around her back and her hair growing out unevenly from having been shaved.

"We will lead you back to the villiage," Samir reasures.

"We can't!" I hurry to interupt, "It would be too dangerous!  Is there nothing else nearby?"

He shakes his head sadly, "There are only rivers and woods around."

"Then we have to stay here!"

I'm not the only one looking dubiously at the shaking walls of the hut.  The wind whistles threateningly through the walls.  Water pours from the roof as more of the leaves are torn away by the storm.

These huts dont stand a chance at holding out the storm but what else can we do?  If there is no where else to go then we have to hunker down and hope for the best.  I just hope my magic can keep these people safe.

"Find the boy and I'll do what I can to keep this place safe."

Samir bows his head and hurries back outside.  A protego may not be enough.  I try a mix of transfiguration and charms to turn the bamboo walls into steel and weave the protego spell within them.  They almost glow as the transformation takes hold.  

I stumble a bit as I head back outside.  Perhaps this is stretching my magic a bit too much but I dont have much choice.  I rush to the next one, nodding a hello at the similarly nude people within and transfiguring this hut.  At the next two, the spells come easier but the drain on my magic is more noticeable.

Samir comes up to my side at the sixth hut.  A young boy, all thin limbs and a young eager face, is held protectively at his side.  I order them to remain inside while I finish securing the huts.

I stumble out of the ninth hut, only barely keeping my feet under me.  Either the storm winds are more violent or the drain on my magic is more severe.  

A hand grips my arm, Samir's concerned face leans close but I cant hear him over the storm.  His warm brown eyes are intent with concern.  I try to explain that I need to finish.  There are only three huts left.  I cant stop yet!

He pulls my arm over his shoulder.  I dont even enter the tenth hut to cast the spells.  He takes more of my weight, nearly carrying me to the next hut.  I dont remember casting the spell or anything else.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23: after the storm

There is a heavy whooly weight in my body. Thats my first thought, that something is wrong. The only times I wake up whooly is when I passed out from injuries.

I push myself to sit up, ignoring how the world seems to tilt around me. I dont like to lay down when I'm already injured. It just leaves you vulnerable to more harm.

The voices are soft and quiet but not far away. People move, a tension in the air as they seem to collectively hold their breath. I blink blurry eyes out at the room but without my glasses, I cant see anything well.

"My lord?" A familiar boice calls softly from the doorway.

I squint at the light illuminating the figure. I know its Samir, even if I cant make out his face. I try to call back a greating but there is a dry cottony feeling clogging my throat.

He moves to sit at my side, handing over familiar spectacles. I slip my glasses on, relieved as the room comes into focus. I dont recognize the people in this room but thats no surprise.

"Is everyone alright?"

He nods, an odd look crossing his face. He speaks hesitantly, "You seemed weakened by the... protections? that you ... performed?. I was unsure if you were injured from... helping us?"

"Yeah, that can happen if I use too much power in too short a time," I wave away his worry. "Once I eat something, rest a little, I'll be back to full strength."

He looks away, drawing my attention to the transfigured steel walls, "I had no idea such a power existed among the gods."

I snort a laugh, "The Gould are NOT gods. Not even a little bit. They're just parasites that possess people and enslave others so that no one realizes their powers are just technology."

His lips disappear behind his smoothed down beard, "Is your powers also technology?"

"No, I was born with my powers but I'm not a god, just someone with powers."

"You do not wish to be worshipped?"

The startled look on his face when I laugh is nearly enough to send me into another fit of laughter. I clear my throat, trying to answer what I think was a serious question, "I have never desired anything less, I assure you."

His gaze holds mine, another question burning within his brown orbs.

How do I explain? How do I prove to this man, who has already suffered at the hands of others with power, that I'm not the same without sounding like a total pratt? How do I reasure him that I'm nit a threat to his freedom?

A thought comes to me them. Its a bit silly, or I suppose it isnt but it also is. During the brief period that Aunt Petunia bought comic books for Dudley to encourage reading (and wasnt that a lost cause from the start) I got to read a few. She bought him books about heros, people with powers but I suppose their powers were acceptable for Dudley to read.

I snuck a peak at a few, before he had completely torn them to bits and burnt them at the park, blaming me for the fire that marks the round-about. I remember one thing written in a small bubble on the page. "With great power, there must come great responsibility."

The quote doesnt seem to clear up his confusion so I try again, "It is the duty of those with power to use that power to help others. Leaders and chieftains use their knowledge to better guide their people. Those who are trained to treat wounds care for those injured. Do you understand?"

There is a shimmer to his warm brown eyes as he smiles, "Yes, my lord, I understand."

"You know you can call me by name, dont you? My name is Harry."

He smiles, his lips tilting up at one side more than the other but pure warmth in his face, "Well met, ... Harry."

"Well met, Samir."

The others, who had hovered around us as still as statues, choose that moment to move. There are mostly women, clothed only in the thin cloth at their waist. There are greetings given, names offered and welcome declaired.

"We should get back, unless you need our help here."

The people here remain polite but keep their distant. There is a cautiousness to their actions, an almost wariness. But they wave us away with their thanks.

My feet ache as I stand. There are bandages wrapped around each foot, bloodstains visible. At my questioning look, Samir explains.

"We ran through the forest where many sharp stones and sticks cluttered our path. Some of which cut open your feet."

It had taken us a half hour to run out to the fishers village. The trip back took over three hours. The storm had come early in the morning, lasting much of the day. I had slept for only a couple hours after the storm had ended. There should've been plenty of daylight for us to get back but it was growing dark when we finally stumbled back home.

Mato ran ahead, calling our return. Sirius was there the moment I stepped inside, pulling me into a warm hug. Nesrine, Mehreen, and Mehriban dont give him much time before they push past him to hug me tightly.

I worry about how they handled this mess. It must've been terrifying for them, especially since they couldn't understand what was being said. I really need to find a way to learn their language and teach them ours.

"I'm sorry, pup," Sirius speaks softly, his eyes shine with unshed tears, "I didn't mean for that to happen, I swear. Its just, there was always freezing rain and lightning and thunder at Azkaban and for a moment... for a moment I forgot... I forgot that I wasnt there anymore."

I pull him into another tight hug, "Its okay, I know you couldnt help what happened."

Samir has already slipped away. Sirius herds me over to the furs before the fire. I flinch at the first step, forgetting to prepare for the pain before moving.

Nesrine slips from the room with a quiet word to her cousins. Mehreen joins me on the fur, carefully unwrapping my feet. Mehriban gathers up our tea tray, putting the pot closer to the fire.

My feet are a little worse than I thought. There are holes in the flesh where sticks piered through. Flaps of skin move easily where sharp rocks sliced them. There is a shiny something smeared over both feet, smelling strongly of honey.

Nesrine returns with two rectangular wooden plates heaped high with cooked meat and root vegetables. There is a rasberry like smell mixing with the warm scent of meat and turnips. My mouth is watering as I accept the first bite.

Sirius getnly moves Mehreen away from my feet. A few quick spells has the ointment vanished, the wounds closed, and fresh bandages wrapped around each foot.

It takes three bites before I remember that I'm supposed to offer them food off my plate. With burning cheeks, I pass out large chunks of meat to them. Sirius watches amused. He had laughed when I explained it to him before but he understood that it is a part of their culture.

Mehriban brings over the tea tray, pouring us each a glass. The tea is a warm apple spice that pairs well with the food. I try to alternate bites of food but I still think I end up eating half of the plate.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24: family bath

Things seemed a bit strange after the storm. Its not like they didnt know we had powers. Sirius used fire spells to bake the clay of the homes they build. They're not really afraid, I dont think, it just feels like they're circling us somehow.

We spend two days cleaning up the villiage. My spells held so the buildings themselves are safe but the storm distroyed the animal pen and the forest edging our village. So we've worked to clean up the broken bamboo trees, remove the debris, and rebuild the animal pen.

We also end up with a lovely bath for our home. It wasnt intentional. Sirius explained that the second floor was meant to be a little patio on the roof for us to relax. But with the way it was built, it easily caught and held plenty of water from the storm.

The staircase leads from the main room up to an open second floor that stretches the length of the home. The roof is split into three areas. Two steps down from the doorway is the first flat area, about the size of the main room below. The one to the left, over our room, is higher by four steps and meets the edges evenly. The one to the right has four steps down into a fully enclosed 'tub' stretching to fit the area with a tall enclosed wall.

"I thought it could be our own little hideaway," Sirius says ruefully, looking at the clear water sloshing up to the doorway back into the house. "I was going to add chairs and cushions, really make it a nice little nook."

There is some debris up here, broken bamboo poles, leaves and twigs. We clean them up quickly. Then, with a few spells, we work at transfiguring the bits of broken bamboo and leaves into a privacy screen around the entire roof. The end result is very lovely.

Sirius leaves, clapping my shoulder in passing with a teasing, "Now you can smell less like a wet dog, pup."

I laugh but agree. The water is warm and clear. Stripping off my clothes, I settle in the water, sighing at the welcome relief. I lean my head back, enjoying the sun on my face.

Water sloshes softly. I blink against the bright light as Nesrine gracefully glides over to sit by me. Her slick dark hair is pulled loose over both shoulders, barely covering her chest.

My cheeks burn, "Hello, Nesrine."

She smiles, not the least bit bothered at sharing a bath. Perhaps its another part of her culture? She did help me bathe when I was injured on Marloon but I thought that was just because I was injured.

She settles her hand on my shoulder, gently guiding me to turn away. A rough cloth drags down my back, releasing a strongly flowery scent. I dont really relax until Mehriban and Mehreen slip excitedly into the water too.

I try not to stare, I promise. Its just, they dont seem the least bit shy. Maybe its because we're married but I didnt really expect the... lack of shyness?... the forwardness?

Nesrine washes my hair as the twins take turns washing each others backs. They are using some type of liquid in a little clay pot with a tall body and wide bottom. The liquid within has the same flowery, almost rasberry-ish scent.

I cant seem to will away the heat from my face but they thankfully dont comment. When Nesrine finishes rinsing my hair, I motion an offer to do the same for her. She smiles back brilliantly and hands over the cloth and clay vial.

Her hair is so soft. My fingers slide through the strands without catching a single tangle. Its almost hypnotic, stroking my fingers gently down her hair.

I pour more of the slick flowery oil onto the cloth. She pulls her hair out of the way so that I can stroke the washcloth down her back. The repetitive motion is soothing, especially with how warm and relaxed she is before me.

Hands stroke down my back and arms. Mehreen offers a warm affectionate smile from my right. Mehriban presses her bare breasts against my back, resting her chin on my shoulder.

My whole face is blazing now.

I cant help it. I know that we're married. I know that I should be okay with their nudity, their touch. I know that this... intimacy, its normal for couples, right?

Nesrine presses close to my chest. Her hands grip my upper arms as if to steady herself. Or perhaps its me that needs to be steadied. I've never... I don't really know... what am I meant to do?

My face no longer burns but my heart pounds like a trapped animal. I meet her gaze, seeking some kind of direction or guidance. Her rich dark eyes steal my breath away.

A splatter of freckles rest lightly over her nose, barely noticeable against her warm skin. Her lips are shiny in the light, almost sheer red but too faint to be colored. Her breath curls warm against my lips, smelling faintly of the apple spice tea we had with breakfast.

Her hands trace up my neck to cup my cheeks gently. Her thumbs rub under my eyes. Her long black lashes flutter as she presses her lips to mine.

There's a beat, maybe too, before a shudder races down my spine.

I pull her close, shuddering again at the way her breasts press against my chest. A moan slips from my mouth, swallowed by her kiss. My hands splay against her back, stroking eagerly at sunkissed skin.

There's almost a hazyness now. My tongue sweeps along the roof of her mouth, catching and tugging her own tongue. Her hands press down my chest, stroking but not pushing away.

I can taste the sweet taffy sugar flavor of the banana fruit she ate this morning. Warmth rushes from my head to my toes. I follow her back, pressing her against the side of the wall to keep the kiss going.

Her hands grip my shoulders tightly. I lean back, unable to voice the question but needing to know that she's okay with this. Her smile, while breathless, is blindingly beautiful.

I press forward for another kiss. There are too many hands on me. It takes an embarrassingly long minute to remember Mehriban and Mehreen are here too. I'm supposed to treat them equal, right? How do I do that with... this?

Gasping I break away from Nesrine to press a kiss to Mehreen. She's just as eager if a bit clumsier. Her kisses taste of the chocolate like tea and I cant help but smile. Its her favorite and even when we have our family tea together, she will sneak a cup of 'her' tea. I need to find her some proper chocolate to try.

Mehriban cups my cheek, urging me to taste her kiss next. Her smile is dimpled and its the first time I noticed how its different from Mehreen. Mehriban has large princess dimples on both sides of her smile while Mehreen's are smaller, fainter almost.

I'm a little worried about whether this is the right thing to do. We cant even speak the same language. Shouldn't we be able to communicate before we... well...

They dont seem to share my concerns though. Nesrine doesn't hesitate as she guides me back to her. I fall into her kiss as her fingers scratch eagerly at my scalp.

Chapter Text

Chapter 25: our first attempt at a new market

Our first attempt at finding a new market world didnt exactly go as planned...

Its a shock to be sure. Not more of one than my first introduction to the wizarding world, but a startling difference from normal. Or perhaps, our world was the one less than normal.

The weather here is that steady warmth, almost tropical, that remains all year long. This must account for the thin, sometimes sheer, clothing favored by the people here. Their fashions seem to favor long flowing skirts wrapped high around their waists with one or both breasts exposed. The cloths are beautifully colored, some with vibrant dyed patterns or an ombre of one color.

Some women wear necklaces that consists of many strings of beads, looping around their neck to sometimes hang to their stomachs. Many men wear large hoop earings, several with thin gold or black chains flowing between them to create a veil of sorts. There is also a common theme of the people to wear a headdress or diadem featuring either feathers pointed skyward, trailing peacock feathers, or olive leaves.

As if to be equally stunning, the buildings are carved of gorgeous white marble with golden embellishments. Statues of nude people, their skins painted in delicate shades, decorate the innumerable alcoves and fountains. There are sheer cloths of brilliant colors drapped between columns, tied loosly with golden ropes so they are not tossed in the very rare breeze.

The market here, a permanent fixture, appears truly spectacular. At least three stalls sell fabrics, some as soft as silk. No less than five sell jewelry, from dangling chains to thick and heavy arm bands. There is elegant pottery in a rainbow of colors and shapes, favoring oval or elongated forms over round or square shapped.

Of all the many wonders, there is a lack of leather, paper, or woolen goods. Understandable for the wool, thicker fabrics would perhaps be too warm for the weather here but one would expect tanned hide at least. The lack of leather and paper, not to mention the people having no understanding of books or journals is disappointing.

There are several tables, almost altars, set up with trays full of fruits and nuts. Many people will pick up a piece of fruit as they pass but they do not leave any type of payment. Food, it seems, is free on this world but there is no meat or animals to be seen and only the rare caged bird trilling softly.

The Jaffa of this world are all similarly dressed as the inhabitants with the exception of their headdress. It looks almost like an incomplete helmet, open at the ears to allow the large hoop earings. There is a crown of golden leaves circling the helmet with a central cluster of blade thin golden feathers all spiking upward. They also wear golden bands covering their arms from the elbow down, each embossed with a delicately trailing peacock feather.

Sirius and I are halted quickly, standing out so much with are darker brown fabrics. They are not aggressive as they stop us. They almost seem too calm, no staff weapon to be seen. The language is not one we know but with some miming efforts we do manage to explain.

The Jaffa lead us past the market to a sprawling palace. There are actually peacocks here, large fat birds with lush tails splayed beautifully. We spy many nude people here, some with only smears of paint but no cloth for covering themselves. Several mounds of cushions contain large groups of people. They seem to be occupied playing games with small golden pieces on a flat white-marble board.

The Jaffa stop before one mound of pillows not much different from the rest. The entire group within seem indifferent to our presence even as the Jaffa calls out. If there is a leader among them, it is not apparent at first.

After a few long minutes where Sirius gets increasingly frustrated, one slender male stands and approaches us. He has a long oval face, narrow with a pointed nose and full lips. There are streaks of painted gold across his cheeks and on his lower lip.

He is a tall willowy figure, as pale as the people here but lacking the golden embellishments they seem to favor. Instead, his flowing golden hair is unadorned as it trails to the back of his knees. His skirt, if you would call it that, consists of a sheer wrap around his waist and trailing peacock feathers along the sides.

He circles us twice, hooded eyes gliding over us both as his lips quirk up just the slightest. He speaks once in the local language, then again in what is clearly a different dialect. The third time he speaks, it is words we understand.

"There are not many who visit my sweet Elyssia," he says in a softly echoing tone of the Gould, "Why then, have you come here?"

"We seek to establish trade," Sirius answers promptly.

"Trade," the Gould repeats amused, "What could you possibly have to trade?"

"We have animals, good for meat and wool."

The Gould scoffs dismissively, "We do not eat meat, nor do we need wool. We have no need for all is provided."

"Is there anything you would wish to trade?" I ask.

The Gould smirks more obviously now. His eyes linger on mine, flaring brightly as the Gould like to do. He steps close, long fingers reaching up to caress my cheek.

"Such lovely eyes, perhaps I will have them."

"My heir is not for trade!" Sirius snaps, crowding close and frowning more when the Gould doesnt step back, "If you have no desire to trade, we will leave. You do not have anything we really need anyways."

A challenging look crosses the Gould's face, "You would leave without honoring your God?"

Sirius snorts mockingly, "A snake is Not a god."

The change is instantaneous. The man's relaxed posture is replaced with a tense angry form. The Jaffa respond immediately, their armbands melding into some sort of handheld weapon.

So much for not causing trouble.

It takes some swift parsletongue to avoid a disaster. There were twelve other Gould throughout the sprawling rooms, each as mellow as the first. They exclaimed happily over my parsletongue, excited and eager for the hissed words.

It turns out, they are really Gould, just very non-confrontational. They have lived on this pleasure world, Elyssia, for many years and have somehow avoided the conflicts that are typical of the Gould. So they raise people either to serve as lotar or as host for other Gould, as well as profucing the majority of the elite fabrics for the gods, and they rarely get visitors to their world.

We leave with large bundles of beautiful fabric and five heavy casks of various fruits. All they ask is that I visit again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 26: A welcoming evening

Nesrine refills our cups, a content smile curling at her lips. The sweet scent of vanilla curls around us this evening as the fire crackles warmly. It is late now, even the noise from outside has muted to a quiet hum.

Mehriban gives a soft exclaim, clapping her hands. Sirius falls to the side dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes and groaning loudly in defeat. The girls laugh at his theatrics.

"She win again?" I tease.

Sirius groans again loudly, setting the others off into peals of giggling amusement. He has a way of putting people at ease. Even with the language barrier, he and the girls have bonded well.

As a way to unwind in the evenings, we have been playing various games. One game board, that I suppose would be closest to chess even if it is played differently, has become a favorite. It is also a game that Mehriban excells at every time.

The board is a large square wooden board with little indented circles rather than the squares of chess. The round wooden pieces are placed in clusters of five centered on the sides and rising towards the center of the board. The opponent is placed in the center of the board, a central blue glass bead piece and two layers of pink glass beads flowering around it.

The goal of the game is to get the central blue piece to one of the four corners of the board. The wooden pieces are used to capture the glass beads by surrounding them. You can only capture the beads if you can isolate them.

Mehriban has won every round so far, regardless of which side she plays. Sirius had laughed as she beat me, teasing me endlessly. He bragged about his own sucess at chess and how well he would do in my place. After three rounds of failure, trying both sides of the game, he seems to finally admit defeat.

"I did warn you that she was good," I cant help but tease.

He huffs back, glaring in mock annoyance, "Its just my luck, you married a genius."

I laugh at that, setting off the girls laughter. Sirius joins us with a barking laugh, his eyes shining. He bows his head theatrically to Mehriban in defeat. She motions back a queenly curtsey even if she's still seated.

Mehreen slides a carved wooden piece, similar to a rook in appearance, over two spaces. I take the flat sticks that act as dice, shake them in their little cup and pour them out. Two have the red stained side up so I move my own piece, shapped like a stretched thin pyramid, down the long rectangular board.

Nesrine settles back at my side to watch our games. She has one of her veils across her lap and a needle and thread making steady movements. Already there are curling vines dotted with pretty pink flowers with bright yellow centers making a beautiful boarder along two sides.

There are not many forms of entertainment on our new home world. We have our games, and several books for Sirius and I to read. The people, former slaves that they were, prefer to spend their evenings singing songs or calling a mockery of poetry back and forth. They get a thrill from mocking their former 'gods' so publicly.

We have most of the buildings finished now. Some are double stories but most are simple one story cubes, pressing wall to wall. There are three more 'lanes' of homes. The homes are slowly showing decorations.

The bamboo trees that grow aplenty on this world are a soft wood that can be used to make numerous items from dishes to cupboards. There are woven bamboo mats, bamboo tables and short stools. There are three large bamboo looms built in the town center where people can work together to weave the animal's wool into thick warm quilts.

Our meals are still communal, eating twice a day. We have changed out our central fire pit for an large domed clay oven. There is a long low clay table that has several open cubbies where little fires can burn, allowing the table to be used like a large cooking pan.

A commotion outside draws our attention. Voice shout in alarm. Sirius and I rush out, wands in hand.

There are not many people out this late, the fires have gone low in their abscence. The group of a few dozen that were still awake have converged on the pathway most directly leading to the veil. We hurry to join them.

Their voices are rising, alarmed and threatening. Sirius shouts at them and several scatter to make room. I get a glimps of pale eyes in a handsome face.

"Martouf!" I shout, rushing past Sirius to extract my friend from the guards.

They hadnt hurt him but its only when I shout his name that they relax. A few mutter that they didnt recognize him. The braided rope binding him is untied, releasing him with a sheepish apology.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius asks, still glancing around suspiciously.

Martouf throws him a half amused, half annoyed look, "I was worried. I wished to check upon you to be sure you were all well."

"At night?" Sirius bites back incredulously.

Martouf bows his head sheepishly, "I had forgotten that this world finds its evenings earlier than my own."

"Its okay," I hurry to reasure him, "You are, of course, always welcome here!"

The others back away as we lead Martouf to our home. Nesrine stands worried at the door, relaxing at our approach. She smiles at Martouf, calling a greeting that he returns.

At least she recognizes him.

We get him settled with a cup of tea, curtesy of Mehreen, on the thick fur. He offers an apology for not visiting sooner. I wave it off, asking after him and others which he happily answers.

Nesrine offers him a muffin, baked with these apples that taste like chocolate pudding. She and the girls ask soft questions that he answers swiftly. They look delighted and relieved.

How long has it been since they've had someone to talk to? It must be difficult for them, not knowing our language. So many times we've had to mime and guess at what the other is trying to say.

That gives me an ides...

"Martouf, how long are you planning to stay?"

"A few days, if I am welcome."

"You're always welcome!" I nearly snap back, "But could I trouble you for a favor?"

"Of course, my friend."

Chapter Text

Chapter 27: misguided but sweet

I had a plan. It was a good plan. It would've made Hermione proud, at least a little.

But, you see, I had a plan.

I grabbed up three blank journals and a small cup of charcoal sticks, dumping them in Martouf's lap. Surely between him and Lantash, we can get a proper dictionary working. He offers back a confused smile so I explain.

"If you could write some common words and phrases, that would be a great help for me and the ladies to learn each others language."

Sirius snorts a laugh, "Already putting him to work, pup? I guess this wont be a fun vacation for you, mate."

"I do not mind working, or even helping to translate," Martouf offers genuinely, "but I am not sure that I can help you with this."

"Sure you can..."

"My friend, you misunderstand me," he holds up a hand to halt me when I try to reply. "They do not have the ability to read. In fact, most people do not have such an ability. And should I write for you, it will be difficult as their language may not easily be written in a way that you can understand."

"Bullocks."

"Wait!" I glance at Sirius, "Do any of our people know how to read?"

"How would I know, pup? We havent exactly had lazy days here."

Well then, nothing for it I suppose. "Then we will teach them!"

Sirius barks a laugh, "Do you have any idea how hard that will be?"

"It cant be that hard, can it?"

Martouf shifts a bit in discomfort, "It may be a very... It is a job that calls for a great deal of attention to those you plan to teach."

"Well, I can do it!" I offer back, getting excited about it now that I've thought about it. "I helped out the other students last year when that horrid Umbridge woman refused to teach us anything."

"It will not be an easy task, my friend," Martouf begins, firming his shoulders as he adds, "but I will assist you however I can."

I cant help but beam back at him proudly, "You wont regret this, I promise! Its going to be Brilliant!"

Correction... it was not brilliant.

Not even a little bit.

So we agree to start first thing in the morning. I'm excited enough that I can barely sleep and I'm feeling smugly proud. If Hermione could see me now, she would be so impressed! This is definitely something she would do.

I barely sleep, rising before the sun to make tea for everyone. Martouf slept on the couch in my room and was still sleeping peacefully so I organize our supplies. Its only a pitiful few blank journals and some sticks of charcoal.

Okay, no worries. I have magic so I'll just transfigure a few things. So... what does a person need to teach a villiage to read?

I'll need a schoolhouse or somewhere to use as a classroom. I'll need books and charcoal, a chalkboard and chalk, some desks or at least tables. Surely I can transfigure it for the short term, right?

I cant shake the nervous energy so I head outside. Maybe if I help get breakfast ready, I wont feel so jittery. There are only three people awake this early.

Two are our night watchmen. They are strong wooly men in patchwork leather tunics armed with a knife each. Both men have thick brown hair, large busy beards, and fat fingers still crooked from healing wrong. Their names are Iba and Akit, although I'm not sure which is which.

The third is an older woman with scars where her breasts were and a constant look of incomprehension on her face. Her hair is growing back unevenly from where her prevous master kept it shaved. Her skirt is dirty, smeared with grease and ash and other things. The others call her Ama but its not her name.

"Good morning to you, Ama," I offer with a smile that she doesnt seem to see.

She isnt blind, I already asked. She isnt blind or deaf. She's just burrowed herself so far into her own mind that she cant come back out. Or thats what Sirius says.

"Would you like my help this morning?" I offer, sitting down beside her.

She doesnt answer but I didnt really expect her to. She already has the fire crackling to life in the little shelves beneath the clay table. Its still cool to the touch but it will warm up enough to cook up a good breakfast.

Our options for breakfast are a bit limited. We dont have any eggs, nor do we have grains or oats. So breakfast is usually not much different from supper.

She has a basket of yellow and green squash beside her that she's steadily slicing into roundish disks. There are a few other items beside her. One basket has sweet potatoes, one has cabbage, and there are a couple jars of tomato paste.

I take the basket of sweet potatoes. She usually cubes them with the skin on so I go ahead and get started. Its mindless work, just something to keep my hands occupied while I think.

The villiage is coming along nicely. The buildings are gaining splashes of color, made from raddish water I think. It allows a bit of individuality to the otherwise cookie cutter homes.

Ama takes the basket from me as I finish. The sweet potatoes are strewn over the cooking top with the squash. One of the jars of tomato paste is drizzled over the vegetables, followed by a couple scoops of water with the drinking spoon.

"So..." I begin a little uncertain, "do you want to learn how to read and write?"

The jar shatters loudly against the cooking top. Ama stares back, her eyes full of almost fear mixed with incredulity. I vanish the glass, double checking that I got it all and handing her back the large spatula.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

She doesnt answer but this is the most aware she's been since I've met her. I ask others as they start trickling out into the courtyard. They gain the same startled look and only a handful answer hesitantly but its neither a confirmation or a denial.

The sun peaks over the horizon, barely glowing within the courtyard. More people come out in groups, settling together on bamboo mats or small stools or just sitting on the ground with their clay or bamboo plates in hand. Ama motions when the food is ready for them to get a scoop.

Martouf comes out, offering a friendly smile and joining me near the cooking table. Nesrine, Mehreen, and Mehriban come out together, like they usually do, with their embroidered veils wound tight over their hair. Sirius doesnt come out until the people get louder, talking and laughing and really waking up now that the sun is fully lighting our village.

I ask again, when everyone seems to have their plate mostly eaten, "I would like to start teaching you all to read and write, if you would like."

The resulting silence is incredibly awkward. A few glance at Sirius who is still only half awake.

Maybe if I explain better, "I am working to learn my wives language and to teach them mine and I thought that if any of you would like, I could also teach you too."

One woman bursts into tears and really... I havent a clue why.

I glance over to Sirius who shrugs helplessly back.

Martouf offers a soft explaination, "Most Gould would kill any who learn to read if they didnt assign them that task."

"Well, the Gould are a bunch of buggering prats!"

"Besides... They're free now," I add, trying to feel confident. "I say they can learn if they want to so if anyone wants to show up for classes, they will be more than welcome."

I offer our first class in our home. No one else shows up but thats okay. Maybe they will come next time. Hopefully.

Chapter Text

Chapter 28:A little lesson

For three days I hold a class in our living room. I start with the alphabet and their sounds. It seemed like a good place to start as any.

Only my wives sit in on the lessons. I didnt expect the whole village yet but surely a few should've wondered in by now. A few kids came as close as the doorway, peaking inside nervously, but ran the moment I called them inside.

So obviously something has to change.

I try to move the classroom outside.

Our home is a large part of the courtyard so I transfigure the outer wall into a large chalkboard. The alphabet is written large in alternating bright colors along the top boarder. An enlarged and cushion spelled bamboo matt is placed before the chalkboard with a permanent sticking charm.

I have a large transfigured abacus stuck to one side, almost acting as a partition. The beads on the abacus are as large as foot balls although they are brightly colored and hollow instead of black and white. I'm hoping the bright colors will help draw others in to the class.

My wives join me at our new classroom as soon as they finish eating. Most of the others are still spread out with their breakfast of bread and dried fruit. They've been shooting glances at the transfigured classroom for a while and their attention is more direct now even if they look away when I try to meet their eye.

"Alright, Nesrine, repeat this letter," I call out, pointing with a long stick to the letter A at the top of the board.

She nods her head, calling out a clear, "A... ah."

"Correct!" I call, more for the voyeurs benefit since she still doesnt understand much.

"Mehreen, this one, please."

It takes her a moment, looking first to where I point at the B before calling out an uncertain, "Bea... bea?"

"Bee," I gently correct, offering a smile to lessen the sting of correcting her.

I move on to D for Mehriban, then back to Nesrine with E, then F, then ending with G for Mehriban. I figure having them memorize just a few letters at a time should help better than throwing the whole alphabet at them all at once. So far, they've been doing amazingly well.

Sirius waits longer than usual to call the others to work. They are building a long barn for the animals, made of the same clay stone as our homes, reinforced with banboo stalks for support. That way, should another storm hit us, the animals will be safe.

Sirius also has three people working on a fountain for our courtyard. The walls will be rounded like a flower petal, three levels high and charmed to continuously flow clean drinkable water. Once its complete, he will have the same group recreate similar fountains in various areas throughout our little village.

The next part of our classwork is me drawing or transfiguring items, telling them the word in their language as well as mine, and having them repeat it back to me in both. We cover sun, sunrise, midday, sunset, moon, and stars because those are easy to draw on the board. I transfigure a cup, a plate, and a spoon, telling them the word in both languages and having them repeat it back to me.

Its cheating a little because these are the words we've covered since the first class. Its just, this is a whole different language for them and I just figure they need the chance to learn a little slowly. It helps that Martouf translated for us during their first class.

A few people linger on the far side of the courtyard. They watch without staring but hurry away if I look at them. I guess I'll just pretend they are not there and let them learn this way for a while.

We turn to the abacus next. I have them repeat the numbers one through ten as I move the hollow beads along the string. Then I section some off, out of order, and ask them how many beads are there. They struggle more with that part but they have gotten a lot better.

One of the braver kids, a boy of about five with a head full of soft black curls, sneaks foward to touch the abacus with a mischievous grin. I smile back at him, explaining what the abacus is and what we are using it for. He stays wide eyed but at least he doesnt shy away.

Ama returns to get started on the afternoon meal. She pointedly ignores us but there's enough awareness in her movements that its clear she's listening. There are three more women that join her, pointedly not watching the children slowly edging closer now that the first brave one has proven it safe.

Nesrine comes over, brown eyes wide as she listens to my explaination. I know she doesnt understand most of what I'm saying so she's doing it for the kids benefit. It seems to work because more children edge forward to look around curiously.

A yelp escapes a little toddling girl. She blinks up from where she fell on the bamboo mat, looking as surprised as us. I turn away, hoping she wont cry or run away and thankfully she doesnt. More kids step curiously onto the mat, no doubt surprised at the softness that came from the cushioning charms.

Well, if they're going to come up here then I can try to give the lesson again. I motion them to take a seat where Mehriban and Mehreen welcome them with smiles. Nesrine helps lead the more shy children to the back of the group where they can still see.

With the long stick, I point out and say each letter of the alphabet and their sounds. I repeat the letters A through F, since those are the ones my wives have been practicing. They answer when I call on them so I get the kids to clap with me and praise them for being right.

Maybe tomorrow we can get some of the adults to sit in on the class.

Chapter Text

Chapter 29: learning curve

Okay, so... teaching a language is not easy.

Oh, they're trying, thats not the issue. The issue is that languages are complex things that are not always easy to understand. The children pick it up better but its still a struggle.

For example, they all hate the letter C. No joke, they hate the letter C. They're not very fond of the letters q, x, or y either. But by and far, c is the one they all struggle with the most.

They like A, H, and T. Those are the ones with easy straight lines, not really complex. They get B, D, and G confused far too often.

They do much better with numbers.

The abacus helps tremendously there. Being able to visualize what I'm teaching them, moving the beads along the cord and counting them, helps. I've also covered simple addition and subtraction by transfiguring glowing orb bubbles and either popping the ones to be subtracted or simply blowing extra to add.

The first time I did that, there were squeels of joy. The kids love it! Especially when I let them pop the bubbles. The first class was mostly just making bubbles and letting them run around popping them.

At least they arent afraid. I didnt think they would be but I know Sirius worries. He worries they may decide to be afraid of us but I dont think they will. They Know us. They Know that we wont hurt them so why hide our powers?

Besides, if the leviathan of hellfire and brimstone that destroyed much of the To'Dette market hasnt made them fear us then nothing will.

So I keep using magic to teach them because it is a help. The bubbles are fun and simple. Even the adults smile at the way they softly glow. The kids mostly love to pop them.

The magic I use the most is transfiguration. Sometimes I'll transform a pebble into a long peacock feather, just to flourish it for their amusement, but mostly I change items so they can see what they are saying.

This is especially helpful for my wives since they are learning an entirely new language.

Getting everyone to actually write isnt easy. For a while I gave them each slips of paper and ink. That went about as well as can be expected.

Mehriban, who was helping three of the girls practice their lines, has ink spilled on her skirt. The girl who did it bursts into tears. She doesnt calm down, even after I vanished the ink and offered reassurances that no one was angry. Her mother had to carry her away until she calmed down.

Someone, and I have a good idea who, set loose a dozen fat frogs to hop through the wet ink and splatter dark spots everywhere. Half my class ran screaming while some flailed around, catching the frogs that were almost as big as the smallest of them, and making a far worse mess of things.

That class ended our attempts with ink and parchment.

A swish of the wand vanished the frogs and the ink. A stinging hex had a certain someone yelp out of his hiding place. A blasting hex took the letter C off of the board.

"Okay, now there's no C," I try to reassure them. "It was a useless letter anyways. We dont need it so we'll skip it."

Another issue is parchment. I just transfigured what we needed to begin with but giving them each parchment, multiple sheets per class, was a hassle. So we needed to try something different.

Our practical lesson on parchment making wasnt as bad as it could've been. Thats not to say that there weren't issues because there were, but we actually made parchment by the end so it counts as a success. Our attempts at bookbinding has had mixed results.

Without parchment and ink, we need another way for them to pracrice writing. Sirius's offhand remark about drawing in the sand gives me the idea. Individual shadowboxes with colorful sand for each of them. Instead of a quill, they have a fat stick with a long point on one end to draw in the sand as well as roll it back smooth.

It worked better than the ink. If you ignore when they threw sand at each other or spilled their boxes and more sand ended lost to the wind than stayed in the boxes. So while it was better, its still not quite working.

I tried to ask Lantash for help with the class.

"Surely one as Wise and Knowledgeable as you could easily handle such a simple class."

"We the Tok'ra, do not interfere in the affairs of human worlds where Gould are not concerned."

"I'm Not asking you to teach them to Build a Rocket ship! I'm asking you to teach them how to Spell their Own Name. Surely That's acceptable?"

The twinkle in his eye and the smirk pulling at his lips tell me he's not fooled.

So I tried to ask Martouf.

"But was it not the reason you came here? A distraction from all things Gould? What better distraction is there than helping others to learn?"

He grins, shyly ducking his head, "I am sure you are more than up for the task."

"It would just be nice if we had someone who actually knows how to teach," I grumble back.

He laughs, a soft bright sound, but still doesn't relent. Instead he scratches away at the journal I gave him, pointedly ignoring my pouting. The same thing they have been doing since they got here.

Except, of course, for the times they slip off with Sirius for Merlin knows what sorts of mischief. Just the other day, Sirius had roped them into some madness involving flying fish, with actual Wings! Yesterday, they poured a giggling potion into the water fountain, leaving everyone in hysterics and at supper, they made everyone's hair turn a different color.

No one has been hurt or singled out so they're treating it as a laugh. They know Sirius is doing it, he doesnt even try to hide it. But I think only Nesrine and I know that our friends Lantash and Martouf are involved too.

Before this, I wouldn't have pegged them for the trickster type but they are, they really are.

Grumbling again about unhelpful friends, I slump further into my cushion. Nesrine's eyes twinkle with amusement as she pours more tea in Martouf's cup. He replies with a soft thank you in her language, then repeated in ours.

Sirius plops down with a satisfied grin, "So... how's the classwork coming along, pup?"

I groan, falling theatrically to the side. Barking laughter mixes with soft amusement over my head. At least my family is having a good time.

Chapter Text

Chapter 30: Visiting the inlaws

For all that we have a good sized population of freed people, we lack those with training in most fields. There is no healer, the most these people know is to smear honey and wrap bandages around a wound while hoping you dont die. We have no blacksmith or craftsman. These people try, to be sure, but its guesswork and random, not very organized.

Mehreen is the one to make us realize the obvious solution, in a roundabout way.

I find her upstairs, curled against the privacy screen while crying. She tries to pretend she isnt, turning away and wiping hurriedly at her wet cheeks. It takes a few minutes of gentle prompting to get her to answer. My understanding of Marloi is still not the best but I understand enough to recognize the problem. She's homesick, as I'm sure the others are too, and not just for her family but for her friend Baara as well.

I listen as she stumbles through an explaination. Some of it I dont understand but the main point is that she misses her home. She misses sitting at the loom with her friend. She misses her father returning from work with a song on his lips. She misses the smell of her mother, the warmth of her hugs. She misses the laughter in the streets, the sweet treats she and Baara would share.

I catch her hand, pressing a kiss to the back and meeting her gaze steadily, "Then we will return to Marloon."

The girls give a cheer, a few tears even, when I tell them we will go. We cant stay long, a week or two at most, but it will let them see their family and friends again. Sirius waves us off, regretfully unable to join us because he is still needed more here on our world.

"See if any of their people want to move here, especially if they are healers or something. We need people who know how to make this whole new settlement thing work," Sirius mutters as we plan. "And any extra supplies would be helpful, more animals or seeds to plant. Maybe we can work on some crops or something."

Thankfully, Martouf agrees to join us. He reminds me that I will need to bring either a large family gift or individual gifts to honor our family hosting us. Between him and the girls, we agree on taking some animals back with us. It will be five animals, more than Martouf says we need but not outrageously so.

The girls pack a bag with one extra dress, a veil or two, and some trinkets or prizes to show their family. Nesrine picks some spools of thread to take back to her mother after I reasure her that I will replace whatever she gives away. Mehriban picks a gameboard that she says will work for her father and brothers to play. Mehreen gathers up a bag of tea that she thinks Baara will like.

The path is almost familiar as we step through the veil. The forest is beautifully green with bursts of wildflowers dotted throughout. The bridge of twisted vines and roots is just as steady, leading to the thin trail that brings us to the road. The herds and farms along the way appear unchanged and unconcerned as we pass.

The girls get more and more excited with each step. Their voices rise cheerfully, talking animatedly as the city comes into view. A childish excitement seem to take hold of them, having them twirl joyously, sometimes skipping ahead only to dance back. People call greetings to them, shouting out welcome before we even reach the city gate.

Ehtiram is the first of the family we see. He runs toward us with a wide smile and open arms that the twins rush into. Emad, Ehsaan, and five other guys come running up next. They shout their praises, clasp my shoulder in welcome, and give a joyful cheer when we present the animals. There are many eager hugs and backslaps as we're ushered through the city gates.

Baara finds us before we reach the family home. She and Mehreen collapse against one another, crying and laughing and pressing kisses to each others faces. Other women pour out of the home, welcoming and pulling us inside while some of the guys pull the five animals around to a little alleyway not far from the home.

Little Ejaz toddles over, along with a dozen other children, to greet us. Sirius helped us cook up some candied nuts before we left so I pass them out, earning excited cheers from the kids. At least the kids are easily pleased.

We are ushered over to the cushion mounds where everyone clusters together. Emir and his wife welcome us with joyful
hugs, pulling me to sit at his side while leaving room for my wives to settle when they join us. Theres another elder woman, older and more fragile, curled low with age and a wide toothless smile. Emir introduces her as the mother of his wife, Bibi.

Nesrine starts the gift exchange by proudly presenting her mother with several spools of thread in a small bamboo basket. Mehreen is ushered in still curled around Baara, the both of them lost to one another. Mehriban is bouncing around hugging her brothers and mother.

It doesnt take long for a little feast to be prepared. Our first night is for welcome and rejoicing, Martouf explains, so any talk of business will have to wait until morning. The feast expands to include various cousins, neighbors, and some relatives of neighbors. Martouf explains that the five large animals elevates Emir's family up in station, allowing them the means to host a larger gathering. I just hope the goodwill last long enough to get us some skilled craftsmen.

Its well past sundown when people finally head off to bed. The night is cool and clear, the sky a burst of bright twinkling stars. My belly is warm from drink and full of good food. Nesrine drapes herself over me, letting me guide her to our bed where Mehriban has already bedded down. Martouf remained at the feast, still regaling the gathering with some humorous tale that has earned him many friends

I get Nesrine settled only to realise Mehreen is missing. Leaving the ladies to rest, I head off to find Ehtiram. She is probably just with her mother but I should still find her.

"She may be with Baara," he tells me, or at least thats how it seems to translate. He throws me a slightly concerned look, probably at being questioned, but doesnt seem overly worried. So I thank him and slip away to bed.

I'll ask Nesrine if she thinks I need to search for Mehreen. I dont want to seem controlling or anything. I'm just not sure if I'm supposed to be worried about her missing or not. This may be normal, I dont know. At least my wives understand that I'm trying my best to do this whole husband thing right.

Nesrine mumbles something, pats my chest, and tugs me down to bed. Ok, so we arent worried. This must be a normal thing then, no problem.

With a yawn, I curl around Nesrine who has Mehriban still asleep on her other side. Its much later, when my eyes are too heavy to open, that I feel a warm body slip into the bed behind me.

Chapter Text

Chapter 31: an unpleasant start

Morning is not nearly as pleasant as the night before.

Oh, it starts out pleasant. It starts out warm in bed, curled around a soft feminine body with another at my back. Its a familiar hand clasping mine and a soft thick braid against my cheek. Its the warm fruity scent that clings to my wives, a combination of the hair soap they use and their own naturally warm scent.

Then it is slender warm fingers tugging at my shoulder, pulling me to lay on my back as soft kisses press to my cheek. Fingers slip beneath my tunic, startling a soft chuckle from me as they ghost across my stomach. I rub at my eyes as she moves over me, pushing a bit urgently at my clothes. I catch the hands, startled more at the rushed movements than anything. It only takes a moment to realize whats wrong here.

I'll blame it on my glasses not being on my eyes at the time. I could also blame it on the darkness of the room or that I'm still half asleep. Whatever the reason, it doesnt change the fact that its Not my wife.

I may have gotten angry...

Maybe... feeling a little betrayed.

My magic may have... reacted.

Its not my fault, not really. Accidental magic is a thing, you know. Its a defense mechanism that is no more controlled than your own heartbeat.

All I'm saying is, I'm not to blame for this.

So the commotion may have attracted some attention and I may or may not have run from the room. Martouf was planning to sleep in the main room where other guests were setting up. Surely he can fix this. Right?

The sky is warming, a soft glow in the distance, but dawn is still far away. The women of the house are already awake, shuffling around the cooking area still partially asleep. Only a few babies are awake, nursing or fussing or blinking confused at why exactly they arent still in bed.

So, I may have taken the cowardly approach, shoving Martouf at the problem and pretending innocence. Its just... I dont understand why.

Why would Baara behave like that? Why would she climb into our bed? Why kiss me? I'm a stranger to her. She cant possibly like me, right?

Once again I sit here wishing for Hermione. She would understand whatever this whole mess means. She would handle it with grace, and a bit of scolding. If only SHE were here, she would know what to do.

Lantash settles beside me nearly an hour later, quietly watching as the women work. I fiddle with the hem of my tunic for almost a solid minute before giving in and asking him what happened. His answer isnt what I expect, not that I really knew WHAT to expect.

"Baara loves Mehreen more than anything," he tells me quietly. "She has been in much pain without her love and she feared losing her again. She thought, they both thought, that if she were to marry you then they could be together."

Raised voices sound overhead. A furious mans voice is met with others, both men and women.

I sigh, scrubbing at my face, "So... What do I do now?"

"That is up to you, dear Harry. You may take her to wife... or you may refuse."

Emir's wife adds a cup of what looks like oats to a cauldron. Another woman adds slices of fruit and the powder from what smells like cinnamon. The second one is also Emir's wife. Their clothes are the same, their veils the same, and their faces similar. Perhaps its normal for wives to dress the same.

Or I could be wrong. What do I know of their culture. The week I spent here wasnt enough to really understand their ways.

"What happens if I refuse?"

"She will be ruined," is the soft answer given.

Well... thats that then.

I ask Martouf to handle it. He can tell them that I'll marry her. He can make whatever arrangements need to be made.

Its not like I wouldn't have helped her if she had just asked. I dont have anything against her. In fact, if they want to be together, then fine! Let them be together, I say. They dont NEED me.

I slip outside as others start coming downstairs.

I'm not running. I'm NOT! I just want some fresh air, thats all. I just need a minute to clear my head, you know.

And I may need a minute to settle my stomach.

I get it! I do...

Well, no, no I dont. I dont get it. Because what she did, that was wrong! Like, who even does that? Why would she think that was the way? Surely that isnt normal here... right? Its not like it'll happen again... right?

She didnt hurt me or nothing, its just... thats not what people do. Thats NOT what people DO! They just DONT! Right?

I'm not hurt. Nothing really happend. Its just... I kinda dont want to be around her, thats all. Like, I get it. I have to marry her or she'll be ruined, whatever that means. I just dont want to.

Sirius would tell me I dont have to. Or at least I think he would. Sirius can be a bit unpredictable at times but he does care about me and he does try not to be Crazy crazy, you know.

Lantash and Martouf... they know this culture the best. This is a world that is precious to them, a world they visit often enough to have friends. If they think I should marry her then...

I dont want Baara to get hurt. I didnt know that she and Mehreen were together. No one TOLD me so how could I have known?

I just wish she had gone about this differently.

Maybe... maybe I can help her and Mehreen move into their own place on OUR world. Its not like WE have rules against them being together. And I dont want a wife that doesnt WANT to be my wife.

Yes... yes, that will work. I'll marry her here, since apparently I have to, but as soon as we get to our home world I will get Sirius to help me get them settled in their own home.

The market is slowly opening as the sun rises behind the mountain. It will roll along the sky, out over the ocean, and really bath the whole city in a warm afternoon glow. With the shops opening and the scent of baking bread on the air, I may as well do some shopping. After all, Sirius did ask me to get supplies and that will take a long time. May as well get started.

Chapter Text

Chapter 32: a morning of avoidance

The morning passes slowly. A group of men and boys pass sleepily down the street on their way out of the city gate.

This world isnt rushed like Earth. People arent racing off to work, worried they will be replaced if they dont work themselves to the bone for a job that couldnt care less about them. No, this world is one that prizes craftsmanship. This is a world where each person's contribution is important.

My grasp of Marloi is basic at best but its enough for me to muddle through simple conversations. It helps that I am known here. Most people recognize me, from my brief visit before, which offers a bit more patience on the merchants part.

My first stop is a door. Its actually a home at the base of a staircase leading to the cafe/bakery upstairs. Martouf brought me here last time for lunch, mentioning that they also offer breakfast for those heading out to work who for whatever reason dont have breakfast at home. Its a bit too early for them to open up the cafe, that usually opens mid-morning, so they open the top half of their door, letting it fall down to create a makeshift tabletop and held in place by two thin metal chains.

The girl leaning sleepily against the door, and only barely able to see over it, blinks confused at my address. Perhaps I mispronounced it so I try again, speaking the words carefully and probably sounding like an idiot. The girl blinks again as realization dawns and she greats back, enunciating the greeting that I repeat back. Ordering is a little difficult. I'm sure that I ask correctly for food but something of it must sound funny because the girl giggles, nodding her head and calling back into the home.

It takes a good twenty minutes for another girl to bring up a thick and tough bread bowl full of beans and spinach topped with tomatoes, onions, two fried eggs, and a sprinkling of cheese crumbles. They offer a two pronged 'fork' made of a soft pale wood. I pass over a silver sickle with a smile and a wave. Its overpaying, I think, but its also early and I hope the extra coin shows my appreciation for the trouble they went through.

The people here dont really start their day until later. Most of the shops double as homes without any signs to notify what is sold. It works here because there isnt many tourists to pass through. The few who do are visiting family of some kind so they will have a native guide to show them where and what is sold.

The blacksmith opens his door, moving unrushed as he starts his fire and checks over his supplies. He is my first stop for the day. I wave to him, offering a polite greeting and waiting to be addressed. While he putters about, checking over his supplies, I sit down on the front stoop and start on my breakfast.

It doesnt take more than a few minutes for him to come over. He asks what I need, at least I think thats what he asks. But I dont really know the words for all of it so i mime writing. When his blank stare doesnt change I go ahead and transfigure a couple pebbles into charcoal and parchment. I draw up a simple axe and saw, as well as some other garden tools like a shovel and trowel.

He points to each item, asking how many in slow enunciated words. My numbers dont translate so I draw small marks, pointing to first the picture, then the marks, to show how many. He's very understanding, taking the parchment. Payments are mostly negotiable so I pull out a handfull of knuts and sickles, letting him pick out what he thinks is fair. He waves me away three good mornings so I take it to mean I should give him three days. Either that or he will find me when he's done.

The breakfast has cooled quite a bit but its still good. I eat as I travel up two streets and over five, to a family that sells dyed cloth and yarn. The man that meets me there is probably Sirius's age with three wives and several children running underfoot. They have stacks and shelves of baskets full in many colors although red seems to be the most prominent.

I point to several baskets. The colors arent really all that important but having the extra cloth on hand will help us ensure our people are clothed and have enough blankets. Once again, I offer a handful of knuts and sickles, letting him pick what he thinks is fair.

I finish my breakfast as I head to my next stop, the farm just outside of the city gates. Martouf finds me just before the gate. He doesnt comment on my running off, just listens as I tell him about my morning. He helps me at the farm, requesting bags of seeds and cuttlings as well as whatever they can offer in vegetables. A fistful of sickles is passed over with a promise to have it ready in a few days time.

Three more farms are visited. More seeds and vegetables are requested and more sickles handed over. Then we visit a few of the herders. They're a bit more hesitant to sell their animals but Martouf and I do manage to get a pair of animals from each family, six from one family, and pass over a galleon for each animal.

Ehsaan is waiting at the city gate as we return. He offers a solemn greeting, posing a question for Martouf that I cant quite follow. Martouf answers, nodding to the older man hovering further along the wall.

"This is the father of Baara, Gabon."

I offer a polite greeting, careful not to stutter the words. He replies back with words too fast to catch so I look to Martouf. He translates the man's apology, as well as an offer to refuse the marriage.

"No one wants you to be harmed by this," Martouf explains solemnly. "They know that she acted wrong, attempting to trap you in a marriage that you didnt ask for. They are willing to release you from any obligation with no repercussions for you."

"What will happen to Baara?"

He looks back evenly, hesitating before answering, "Disowned and banished."

I rub at my forehead, a pain building behind my eyes, "I dont want her to get hurt."

"You cant save everyone."

"But if I dont save her..."

Lantash answers, careful to speak without the echo, "We of the Tok'ra know, perhaps better than most, that not everyone can be saved. Especially when that person breaks a law sacred to their own people. Sometimes we must leave people to suffer the fate they have brought upon theirselves."

Her father is careful to watch me without meeting my eyes. I'm not sure if its to show difference, to avoid influencing my answer, or for an entirely different reason. Still, I cant help but feel responsible.

"She and Mehreen love each other?"

I know the answer, I just need to hear him say it. Lantash answers with a soft affirmative.

"Then, I'll agree for her, but only for her."

Chapter Text

Chapter 33: Dragging my feet

Even certain as I am that I will marry her, or at least not condemn her to death, I hesitate to follow through. Its not fear or cowardice. I'm just busy, yeah, just busy.

Its just, we have a lot of work to do. We have to make arrangements with nearly every merchant family to buy supplies. It would be a snub to choose one merchant/blacksmith/farmer and not the others so we place a small order with several different families, especially the poorer families.

We found a family of toymakers during one of our excursions. They make various toys and games for every age. They carve wooden marionettes of little people or simple animals, small stone 'doll houses' as well as little yarn and cloth dolls and wooden animals.

Naturally, I gathered all the kids of my wives' family (and possibly a few random kid friends of the family, I'm not quite sure, there were just too many kids to keep track of) so they could each get a gift. The look of awe on their faces was humbling. My cheeks burned red at the way they lit up with excitement at the promise of just one gift made special just for them. Those were galleons well spent, in my opinion, and certainly well appreciated.

I've bought treats for the kids, the entire family really. The city is rather famous, per Martouf, for their concoction of a sweat fruity thing that is almost like icecream. They come in different colors and flavors, each one a delicacy. My favorite is the blue one that tastes a little like mixing an orange with blackberry and a hint of vanilla.

We spent one whole day relaxing and enjoying the scenery. Mehriban joined me for a walk along the upper cliff in the morning, enjoying a pastry full of a sweet nutty butter and a cup of tea. We spent mid-day in the cavern with my wives' extended family, careful to stay far from the water this time. The early afternoon had Nesrine joining me to pick out dyes and threads while also picking out some fabric for her sister and some of her dearest friends.

"Emir's family had very little," Martouf explains. "Their clothing is plain, no embelishments or even spare threading to sew a design themselves. The men have only one wife each when most of the men of this city who can marry can at least afford two."

"Do I insult them by buying too many gifts?" I worry at my lip.

Martouf offers a kind smile, "Quite to the contrary, Harry, you have bestowed upon them inumerable honors. They gave to you three wives that, if you dont mind my saying, was more to their benefit than to yours. In return, you have given them food and goods that they could not have gotten on their own with their current means. In short, they have gained far more from being aligned with you than they would've gained from any other match.

"It was why they offered you Nehza, even though she was already promised. There is no one here that would've taken on such a low family, knowing that they would have held a responsibility to the family that could offer little in return."

"You think they pushed for a marriage so that I would... what?, be obliged to care for them?"

"Oh, no, Harry, you misunderstand," Martouf hurries to reasure. "They had no malicious motive. For all they knew, you had not a single animal or even a solid home. They wished to give thanks for what you so selflessly risked for Ejaz. THAT is the reason they offered three wives to you. It was the only thing of value that their family HAD to offer."

"People shouldn't be bartered," I mutter petulantly.

Martouf nods back solemnly, "I agree, my friend, but such is the way of this world and many others."

"Like what she did?" I cant help but ask, if somewhat bitterly, "Is THAT the way of this world too?"

He sighs sadly, "It does happen although again, no one would hold you responsible for her actions."

"It is more often a rushed wedding because the young couple was caught in a scandalous way," he offers. "Sometimes the couple sets it up to be caught, forcing their families to agree to a marriage when one or the other side was holding back for some reason. Sometimes its the man deliberately compromising the woman but a woman may try to trap a man too. It is horrible that it happens but I will not lie and say that it doesnt."

A gusty sigh pushes past my lips, "I just wish she had ASKED me. If she had just told me what was happening, I would've agreed."

He pats my shoulder consolingly, "She does not know your character, nor has she tried to learn it. She has done wrong to you, I will not lie, and without your protection she Will be doomed but, Harry, you should understand... those actions were her own. SHE chose to behave in such a way. SHE chose to betray you and if you dont mind my saying, she shows herself rather untrustworthy."

"But if I dont marry her then she's doomed, right? If I dont marry her then she will be starving and dying on the streets because no one will help her."

Martouf doesnt answer aloud. Instead he tugs me closer, tucking my head to his shoulder and resting his chin on top of my head. Its comfort, plain and simple and without any meaningless words to muddle it up because he understands. He knows how this has eaten at me, weighing heavily on my mind. He knows that when I finally returned that first night Mehreen was joyful, so excited that her dearest Baara would join our family. He knows that I've avoided HER since then and since she and Mehreen are wrapped around each other its almost like I've lost a wife instead of gaining one.

Which if you think about it, that is what happened. Mehreen and Baara are in love. THEY thought that the best way for THEM to be together was for me to take Baara as a wife. Now, granted, Mehreen didnt KNOW that Baara planned to slip into our bed and more or less assault me but she also doesnt understand why I'm upset about it. Nesrine understands, scolding Mehreen and Baara repeatedly when their own mothers have ceased their scoldings. Mehriban even understands that it was wrong but she's already shrugged it off, avoiding the conflict by spending time with her friends.

I've already told Martouf that I wont keep them as my wives. Once we get home, I will get Sirius to help me set them up in a different house. Maybe we can send them to the fishers villiage on our world. Surely they would be happy there and, more importantly, I wouldnt have to see them. Its really the only way I can deal with this mess.

I dont know what to do about Baara's family. They had nothing to do with her actions and they have already disowned her even if they havent made a spectacle of it in order to not shame me. So long as I claim her, they wont really be cruel but for the most part they are acting as if she doesnt exist.

But that brings me back to that problem. "Am I bound to her family?"

"No, Harry, no one will hold you to them or to her."

Still, it feels wierd to shower Emir's family in gifts and presents but not even acknowledge Gabon or his family. Perhaps a small gift, something to show that I have no hard feelings and dont blame them for the mess SHE made. But what would be appropriate?

Shopping the following morning is a bit aimless but Martouf helps immensely. His advice is to treat it as a gift towards a host but not toward family. A pair of tall whooly goats that tend to be bred on the far side of the moutain seem appropriate to me. They are a wealthy gift (Martouf suggested just the one but getting a pair seemed like a better deal) but not insultingly so.

I get three more whooly goats, one each for Emir, Emad, and Ehsaan. Three females and a male are purchased to take home and I'm certain if I tried to get any more the family would've chased me off the mountain. While I'm sure they appreciated the gold, I more or less halved their herd and Martouf warned that it would put too much stress on their family should I take any more.

I spend the rest of the day at a jeweler's home, drawing and describing, with wonderful Martouf's help (Merlin Bless them!), some gifts not only for my wives but for their mothers and grandmothers as a thank you to the women of the family for hosting us. Several galleons and sickles were melted down and exchanged but again, well worth it.

For Nesrine, I requested a beaded headdress that can be sewn in to her veils or draped over them. For Mehriban, I requested a bracelet made of several delicate chains that would wrap up her forearm, each chain having a small colored gem set somewhere along the length at odds with the other chains. For their mothers (as well as Emir's wives) I requested simple golden chains that they can add charms to later.

I may have gone overboard with all the gifts, truth be told. Between the necklaceses, the animals, the toys, and the fabrics, I have somewhat overwhelmed the whole family. I've gotten hugs and tears far too often this last day. Actually handing over the gifts, which certainly look like a lot more when all presented together, made two women faint.

I have gotten requests from several family members to relocate to our home world. Ehsaan, along with his wife and child as well as her two unmarried brothers, are quick to offer their service first. Nehza and her betrothed offer next, along with another couple, his cousin and the cousin's wife. By the time we're ready to leave we have about thirty people packed and ready to relocate with us.

All of this has had the effect of improving the standing of Emir's family, through their connection to me. While I was a novelty before, they've since decided that I must be the son of the Imammon of our world. They're not wrong, per say, because Sirius is sort of our leader. Thankfully no one is offended that I didnt introduce myself properly before because I obviously dont speak their language so they've accepted that I simply didnt know how to translate it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 34 : a necessary split

Stepping through the veil is a relief after all the stress. This morning held a bit too much drama for my tastes even if it could be considered my fault. Well, partially my fault.

You see, I just couldnt stomach the idea of marrying Baara and worse, I dont feel comfortable with Mehreen either. So I explained to them at our leaving meal that I would not consider or treat either of them as my wife. Naturally, they were upset.

Mehreen argued that she is already my wife and I cant abandon her. I pointed out that we havent actually slept together so she hasnt been a wife anyways. This seemed to surprise the family but whatever Martouf said settled them down.

"You made vow!" She spat accusingly, "You made me wife!"

I swallow past the lump in my throat, unable to look at her, "I dont trust you and I cant stand the thought of being married to you or her."

It may have come out wrong, the way I said it, but I meant it all the same. I dont trust her to be my wife and I Can't stomach the idea of marrying Baara. Mehreen broke down in sobs that only Baara tried to sooth away.

Martouf had to translate for the family but thankfully they weren't upset about it. I'll admit, I worried that it would disappoint them but if anything, they seemed to have anticipated it. The only part that surprised them was that I havent been with them sexually.

Again, Martouf talks to them. Baara snarls furious words while Mehreen nearly howls with sobs. Nesrine presses to one side while Mehriban press to the other, as if they can shield me from the girls.

Emir said something to them. Whatever he said, and I havent had the courage to ask for the translation, shut them both up quickly. The look of horror on both girls faces was sickening but at least they've kept their distance since then.

Even now, Mehreen and Baara walk with their heads down, pressed close together while everyone else ignores them. Its not that I want them to be treated like lepers. I'm not that cruel. I just cant be married to them.

I will send them to the Fishers villiage. That way, they're far enough away that I wont have to deal with them but they're not abandoned to the wilds. They will get to live together, surely thats enough for them.

Nesrine and Mehriban arent mad, at least. I was a little worried, especially that Mehriban would be angry with me, but so far they dont seem to be. They've both stayed close, even acting as a buffer when Mehreen tried to plead with me.

Voices call out as we near the village. The kids playing in the tall grass hurry to greet us, excited as they always are when I return. Several men, including Samir, come forward to help lead the animals and wagons along the smoother paths through the village.

"Welcome back, pup," Sirius rushes to embrace me, shirtless and covered in sweat and smears of paint.

"What have you been doing?"

He barks a laugh, "We're painting the houses! Some dye mixed with the clay and flash heated, has a glossy look thats really nice."

I introduce Sirius to the group as a whole. They will need lessons to learn our common language but for now we can stumble along. They will be a little spread out for the moment but we will get their homes done next.

Chapter Text

Chapter 35: a cry for help

The fountains were not the only decorations added throughout our little village while I was away. There are, so far, three little alcoves with solid walls but no roof. Each contains chairs and benches and mock playground equipment to make a little park. The slide was made of the same clay as the home, supported with the bamboo stalks. There are a couple bamboo towers to climb and rope bridges to cross. The walls are made to climb all the way to the roof with various ropes, bridges, and nets. The kids love them and Sirius had a great time creating them.

Some of our freed people have coupled or grouped up into family units to fill the various homes that have been built. There were a few families amongst the former slaves but not nearly as many as I thought there would be. In fact, Sirius designed the upper storied homes, accessible by hand molded steps that zigzag the front of the buildings, as single person dwellings while the ground floor dwellings are for families. The original long buildings that everyone packed themselves into will be turned into a schoolhouse and group home for the children.

The Marloi have integrated well into our village, with only a few stumbling blocks along the way.

Marloi culture has many rules for what a person should wear or how they should behave, especially in public. It's nothing against them, it is how their culture has been for centuries. Seeing so many of our people talking back freely, women without veils for their hair, and no clear heirchy besides Sirius and myself being in charge, has thrown them all a bit off-foot. Thankfully, those who came with us are young and shall I say, more progressive than their people as a whole.

When they first arrived, we housed them in our home. It just seemed easier on everyone to keep them together for the moment but we've spread them out since then. Mostly because we want them to be able to integrate well and not keep themselves huddled away in a small cluster. Their addition has Sirius planning to build more tri-leveled buildings. Especially since we want to bring more people in from other worlds.

A big issue that we've faced is the language barrier. Nesrine and Mehriban have both been working hard to act as translators. I've started holding a second class just for the Marloi where I do my best to teach them the words to use for as many everyday objects and situations as they will need. It involves a lot of transfiguration, and Nesrine sitting beside me to translate while Mehriban moves around the group to help them.

My magic really threw them for a loop for a while but they're doing much better as we make it into our third week now.

Each of my student, nearly all of the kids, sit on cushions with slate and chalk. We begin each lesson with having them read out the alphabet. I call each 'student' to write a letter or word on their slate to show that they remember them. Then we move onto another word. So far, they can spell several words such as home, meal, man, woman, water, food, sun, moons, stars, and trees. Teaching them is still a bit hit or miss but for the most part, they are learning well.

Today, we have a spinning wheel and a few deep baskets of wool sheared from the wooly goats, with those who handle such things helping teach the lesson. I'm hoping to have more classes like this so that we can not just teach, but also they can use school to select apprentices in the future. We still need more professionals, such as blacksmiths, doctors, ect.

Shouting interrupts today's spelling lesson. Raised voices call from what sounds like the edge of the village.

Mato races into the courtyard, shouting, "My Lord! My Lord! A stranger! A stranger!"

I wave my students into the house, shouting for Mehriban to mind them and for Mato to get Sirius. I don't wait for either to answer as I run down the path where several of our people are already crowding. Sirius is working with a few groups on a new row of homes to make the back border that's behind our house. It shouldn't take long for him to catch up.

A crowd has already gathered when I push through. Two men hurry forward, dragging a bloodied form between them. Samir is there, knife in his one hand as he warns everyone back.

"Lay him down," I snap.

They drop him, rougher than I intended. I move to turn him over when Samir waves me back with his hand-less arm, "He is Gould, called himself 'Tokra' and called your name my Lord."

"I told you to call me Harry," I tell him for the hundredth time, turning the man over. "And the Tokra are our friends."

I don't recognize the face looking back at me. It could be because of the blood caking him or the way his left eye is swollen and burst, leaving him blind. His clothes are the shinier, more extravagant manner that the Gould seem to prefer, making his olive completion glow beneath the gold cloth and paint, emphasizing the burns that seared his side and leg.

"Tokra!" I snap but he doesn't answer. Closing my eyes, I focus on the image of a serpent, the thought of my friends, and try again in parstletongue, "Tokra, speak!"

The body twitches but doesn't speak. I run my hands over the neck and face but feel neither pulse or breath. I call again and this time I feel the twitch at the back of the neck where the symbiote lay.

I turn him back over, demanding a knife from Samir who passes it over without question. The symbiote wraps around the spine, connecting to the brainstem so I make a careful cut to the side of where it lays. A few more careful cuts and pulling the skin open lets the, frankly half dead, weak symbiote slip free.

His body is that of a short stumpy serpentine form with a hinged jaw that splits open into four pieces. Many brittle thin filaments, similar in appearance to some trailing tentacles of a jellyfish, stretch between the symbiote and human forms. Pulling him free snaps them, earning painful hisses only barely audible.

"What is your name?" I try to ask him, pulling his weak form close to my chest for comfort. "You are Tokra?"

"Yes... Tokra...," he slurs back, barely twitching in my hold as the final few threads snap. "Danger... must warn... Tokra..."

I look around to the disgusted and frightened faces of the crowd. Tightening my hold, I turn and head back even as Sirius is running towards me. I tell him what happened, what the symbiote said and how weak it is.

"It's dead, pup," Sirius frowns down at it but I shake my head, arguing that he still lives if very weak.

Sirius looks around, no doubt worried by the looks passed between the crowd. They're not happy to have a symbiote here, even if it may not act as a Gould. Their fears are probably made worse by the way this one was DRESSED as a Gould. More people crowd along the road, eyeing us with an almost hostile curiosity.

Sirius shakes her head, "Let it die, pup, it's too far gone."

"But he's a Tokra!"

Sirius winces, looking around as he steps closer and lowers his voice, "It'll die without a host. NO ONE here will WILLINGLY take that Snake. NOT after what the Gould did to them."

"He said there is a danger," I try to protest but Sirius is already shaking his head, saying that it's dead.

Part of me wants to let it go. Part of me IS afraid, because the anger in the crowd is a nearly tangible thing. But the weakly hissed, "Please... warn them... please...," is not something that I can just ignore.

I nod, casting a levitation spell on the body and telling Sirius that I will take it away and bury it on its own world. Because Sirius is right. He NEEDS a host quickly to survive and there will NOT be a host on our world.

But I know a world where I can find a host... for the right price.

Chapter Text

Chapter 36 Elyssia

Elyssia is a world that Sirius and I visited briefly when searching for possible trade worlds. It is a warm, tropical realm with an abundance of fruit and sheer fabrics where the Gould raise their Lotar and possible hosts. They are not an aggressive group, a bit too lax in my opinion, which works in my favor.

There are four Jaffa waiting as I step through the veil with the Tokra's body floating beside me. They each wear the thin skirts low on their hips to trail along the floor with their half helmets and hidden armored armplates. Two of the guards wear the black chain almost-veils, linked between their large hoop earings.

"I need to find a host," I raise up my left arm where the weak Tokra lay still, only barely whispering 'please' from time to time letting me know that he still lives.

One of the almost-veiled guards answers "I shall take you to our Lord, Amr."

Amr is the Gould that greeted us last time Sirius and I were here. He has a tall willowy figure with a long oval face, pointed nose, and full lips. His long golden hair, reaching down to his knees, is braided back today with golden chains inlaid with blue gems shimmering between the strands. His skirt is a deep shade of blue with vibrant white peacock feathers trailing down his sides and thin golden chains twisted and dangling around his waist.

He blinks, raising an eyebrow in surprise as he looks between the hovering, Gould appearing, body floating beside me and the nearly dead symbiote in my hand. His lips quirk, amusement shinning in his eyes, "My friend, what a tale you have for me today."

"I am in need of a willing host, Lord Amr."

He hums, raising his chin for a moment but thankfully he answers quickly, "The price will be steep, my young friend, but for you, I am willing to negotiate."

"I do not have much time," I try to prompt him when he stays quiet for a moment.

He chuckles, shaking his head, "Certainly not, young H'Ari, although I do not know if a host will save your friend."

I don't bother correcting his pronunciation because he's snapping out orders. Several heads turn, a few calling back. Many approach curious only for a few to break away indifferently after getting a look at the creature in my arms.

Amr circles us, throwing a curious glance at the still floating body so I lower the spell to gently settle him on the ground. I don't understand the language used, as it seems to be a predominantly Gould language. Amr motions to the dwindling crowd as he talks until there are only five left.

The five that remain consist of one woman and four men.

The woman is in her older forties, perhaps the darkest skinned person here. Golden paint is smeared across her cheeks and her breasts sit bare atop a wide belt holding her sheer white skirt in place. Besides her large hoop hearings, she wears no other embellishments.

One of the men is tall and strong with an indifferent tilt to his head. A long golden brace wraps around the top part of both ears with three feathers pointed high. Gold paint streaks across his impressive shoulders and arms, several symbols visible but I haven't a clue as to their meaning.

The other three men are slender and willowy, one shorter than the other two. Of those three, one holds himself still as if frightened or nervous while the other two keep shifting their stance, flicking their hair, and flashing coy smiles.

Amr clicks his tongue, turning back to me with a smile, "Young H'Ari, these are willing to host for your weak friend. Make your choice and we shall begin negotiations."

I hiss at the symbiote in my arms, "You must choose, my friend."

"Please... willing... please..."

Amr watches with a hungered intensity. I ask him if all five are willing which has a laugh bursting past his lips only to be cut off with a shark-like smile, "Choose, young H'Ari, for your friend does not have much time."

How do I choose? His previous host was a tall and strong male so should I choose the strong man? Should I choose the woman who looks so different from the others? What about the shy male, is he even willing?

What if I choose wrong?

A softly hissed, "please," has me pick the strong man. He is physically similar to the Tokra's previous host so maybe, hopefully, that will be alright. I just hope that I'm not too late.

Amr says something that sends the others away and has the strong man kneeling with his head down. Amr motions me forward with an amused smirk but honestly, what does he expect me to do? Don't they go through the mouth too?

I try to hiss comfort to the Tokra, careful not to use the word. Kneeling in front of the man, I lift his head up. Amr has to translate when I tell the man to open his mouth. He does so, showing off clean white teeth with small round gems embedded in the front two.

I raise the Tokra to his mouth hissing encouragement. I let my magic pool forward, hoping it will strengthen him enough to make this part of the bonding himself. It works, he twitches, hissing a bit in discomfort before darting forward with more speed than I expected.

Amr makes a surprised sound as the strong man falls backwards. I catch him, barely, and lower him to the cushions to rest. Amr says something and an electric blast sounds. Looking over, I see the Jaffa strike the former host's body a second and third time, making it disintegrate.

Amr claps his hands, "Now, young H'Ari, we discuss pay, yes."

I nod, letting him lead me away from my unconscious friend and his new host. I have no choice but to trust that he will be safe in my absence.

Amr leads me further into the extravagant building, past the many sunken cushioned seats. We pass open hallways and walk along a long indoor pond full of long orange, gold, and silver fish. Past the pond is a solid wall with an elaborate mosaic and a hall off to either side.

The building here has many rooms sectioned off with tall thick columns and long vibrant fabrics. Some rooms have the curtains pulled back, revealing the extravagant furniture within, while others are darkened with heavy curtains closed.

The statues that were so prominent in the village are also prominent here, painted so beautifully that they nearly mimic life. I reach out to touch one, giving an sound of surprise when I feel the clothing that appears to wrinkle in a nonexistent breeze is truly carved stone and not sheer cloth.

Amr smirks back, looking smugly pleased as he waits for me to catch up to his longer stride. "There are many beauties here, do you not think?"

"Your home is very beautiful," I answer honestly. "The skill of your artists to carve such wonders is truly extraordinary!"

He chuckles, laying one arm across my shoulders to turn me into a room dropped in sheer blue and green cloth. His voice is an echoing purr at my shoulder, "There are many skills amongst my people. Many wonders that I would happily show you, if you so desire."

"I cannot stay long," I tell him regretfully. "This was a bit of a rushed visit."

He clicks his tongue, circling me while his hand trails down my arm, "Then you must come again, my H'Ari, so that you may fully explore the wonders of my realm."

"That would be nice," I offer in place of a promise. Sirius didn't want to come back here, said they were a dangerous lot, so I shouldn't make any promises to return.

Amr seats himself on a low stool, his legs curled to the side elegantly in a way that I can't mimic when he waves me to the seat beside him. It takes a bit of fumbling and twisting that he kindly doesn't laugh at before I'm tucked in my seat without kicking anything. He motions almost absent-mindedly to the bowl of fruit on a thin golden table beside us.

I snag a few plump purple grapes, popping one in my mouth and holding one out to him. I blush, stuttering out an apology because I've gotten too used to sharing my food with my wives that it's a bit of a knee-jerk reaction now. He smiles widely, leaning forward with an intense gaze and swipes the grape with his tongue.

I shake my head, my cheeks burning as he sits back with a soft chuckle, sucking and chewing the grape loudly. I clear my throat, "I have never bought a host before so how...?"

He hums thoughtfully, watching me under hooded eyes and a satisfied smirk, "Each price is unique to that which is sold. Some have more talent than others, some more beauty."

I nod, trying to focus on his words and ignoring the way he stretches out his legs in such a way that his skirt slides away to expose smooth skin. "And the one I chose? How much is he?"

His smirk then has me worried.

Chapter Text

Chapter 37: A Gould Queen

Stepping through the veil feels different now although I'm not sure what changed.

This world is a desert landscape, all blistering sun and shifting sand dunes. The veil on this world stands on a ledge outside the pyramid proper. Steps lead from the veil's platform to a central walkway that then branches off on all sides. Stairs leading down from there trail off into a thick cluster of ramshackle homes made of sunbleached heavy cloth and the odd lean-to where sun-darkened people are packed together. A bazaar opens up in the distance and past it is a slightly more solid village made of sandstone homes that rise up in odd levels like a toddler stacking building blocks with no greater purpose than to stack as many as possible. A platform that leads to the right and snakes away to the other side of the pyramid shows a river and the ramshackle buildings clustering along its twisting path.

I know that this world is still under Gould control even if the evidence wasnt so very obvious. In fact, this is the home world of the Gould Queen Nekhbet, an actual Gould queen. As in, she is capable of breeding more Gould. She was a queen of Ra before he was killed but now there are three different Gould system Lord's vying for her attention.

"You must keep your hands hidden, my friend, the people of this world will not like your fingers being unadorned," the Tokra, Piran, warns as a troop of Jaffa come stomping closer. I obediently place my hands down at my sides, letting my fingers twist in the fabric draping down my legs.

"You must not speak, my friend, I will guard you as best as I can," Piran promises quietly.

I want to ask questions but I understand the danger we are in. When Piran woke up after blending, he waiting for me because he doesn't know where the new Tokra homeworld is. His last communication with the Tokra council was when he learned my name and the address of our world. I'm not really sure that I like them giving our home address out to all of their operatives but I trust the Tokra to keep it secret and not abuse the knowledge. Plus I do want to help then if they're in trouble and I did tell them that they could call on me if needed.

But back to the issue at hand. Piran needs to reach the council and since he doesn't know the new base address, he has to find someone who does. There are several operatives placed in worlds throughout the many systems, some easier to reach than others. Piran chose this one, a close friend who will know that he is himself and not an imposter even with a new companion. The problem being, his friend is among the Gould Queens entourage so reaching her is dangerous.

He was still dressed in the long skirt of Elyssia that his companion, Calix, wore. All he needed was to wipe away a few of the symbols and add some jewelry and a pretty hand weapon called a Kara kesh, and he was ready to go. Amr offered me one of their long skirts and drew a few long swirls in a vibrant blue. He also gave me a type of vest that is just as long and flowing as the skirt, draping down to midthigh with beads clinking as I walk. Piran had thrown him a questioning glance but Amr just smirked back, completely unruffled. He bid us Good luck, pressing a kiss to my mouth and flashing eyes when I blushed.

I didnt..didn't... we didn't... we didn't do THAT, or much of anything really. Not that there's anything wrong with it.

Amr found it hilarious that I didn't understand. I thought he wanted to sleep sleep, not SLEEP together. I managed to stutter out that I've never...

He took it well. We spent the night together just talking. I told him about falling through the veil and that we don't know how to get home so we're trying to build a new home. I don't tell him where we got our people from. As nice as he is, I doubt he will be very accepting if he finds out we've destroyed their market and aided their enemy.

He told me about life on Elyssia but also about his life before, about the Gould he served before being blessed with dominion over this world. For all that he tried to boast of his history, I could hear the echoes of pain remembered as he shied away from some of his crueler masters. It was a wonderful night, and I would like to consider Amr a friend. I told him as much, which earned an affectionate kiss that had me stumbling over a refusal without offending him. He just smiled ruefully, kissing my cheek and assuring me that he doesn't mind.

I do wonder if Amr suspects Piran of being Tokra or if he just thinks Piran is trying to 'keep' me. Either way, I don't think he will draw attention from the other Gould.

Piran flashes his eyes at the Jaffa who immediately shift their stance from battle ready to cautious.

"I am Lord Montu," Piran calls out in the echoing voice of the Gould. "I come to seek audience with the great Queen Nekhbet, on behalf of my lord, Moloc."

I keep back and to the right, just as Piran instructed before we left. The Jaffa lead us down red stone steps, across an elevated walkway, and up more steps into the palace proper.

The palace is an amazing sight. Mosaics and carvings decorate the walls and pillars. Most seem to detail either a central female figure with wings or a wide winged bird with talons outstretched and a woman's head. There are statues and pottery that stand on various pedestals, some in alcoves but most used as partitions for the room. The ceilings are high, made in such a way to draw the eye to the elevated platform in the center of the cavernous room. The central platform itself is large and tiered, containing three levels with one, three, and five thrones.

The lowest tier, containing the five thrones, is where three male and two female Gould sit. The males wear short white skirts made of thick fabrics with a heavy belt that lays between their legs. They each wear a white headpiece with thick khol around their eyes and chunky gold necklaces. The women wear white dresses with triangular cloth over their breasts that has a heavy belt and a long flowing skirt. Each wears a tall hairpiece that stands up tall like a tophat without the bill.

The second tier holds three female Gould. They each wear white dresses that start below their breasts and wide belts with a blue sash runner that drapes down their center. Their hair is cut in shoulder length square cuts with thin gold chains braided into their hair and black and blue khol around their eyes and painting their lips.

A single female Gould sits on the upper most extravagant throne. She wears a flowing blue dress that wraps around her chest just below her breasts. A heavy half-circle necklace made of glittering blue gems and gold hangs down to cover her breasts while a heavy diadem made of thick gold coils weigh down her short cut black hair. She looks every inch the Egyptian queen, or goddess as she prefers.

Piran walks forward confidently, stopping before the lowest tier and giving a shallow bow at the waist. His echoing voice boom throughout the room although he speaks in that Gould language so I'm not sure what it is he's saying. Whatever it is, he is waved up where he bows again at the second tier, talks for a moment, and is waved up to the top tier.

I keep my head down, glancing around but trying not to be obvious about it. Piran speaks mostly to the Queen but he does answer when one of the other Gould address him. It takes a while, perhaps a half hour, before the Queen comments loudly and Piran moves back down to the third tier, seating himself on the steps and waving me to sit at his feet.

A word is shouted and several people move into the open floor. Women and men, nearly nude, dance to strong drumbeats while some younger teens, equally bare, twirl fans or sticks covered in long feathers. A few nearly nude men come forward with trays of fruit or small fried dough bundles. Piran takes a few, passing one or two to me absent-mindedly while focusing on whatever conversation he's having with the other Gould.

I guess now, we wait.

Chapter Text

Chapter 38: touring the bazaar

My first stop in the rather sparse market of the bazaar is a fabric shop. The shop building is larger than I expected, a rounded room with a tall ceiling and various rolls and bundles of stiff fabric throughout. The fabrics are made from a fibrous plant, some dyed with reds or yellows but most remain a dried grey-green color. There are a few low wooden stools and their chairs are made of crisscrossed rope over an open box.

I try to bring something back whenever I go off world. I usually look for food or animals but there are other things we need as well. Sometimes, unfortunately, the quality isn't really worth much or the people just don't have enough to spare.

A hunched middle-aged woman hobbled over while I've browsed, talking in that other language. It's difficult to communicate between us but by the end I take some of the stiff cloth to use mostly as rugs or tarps. It's not much but hopefully a few bronze knuts will help the woman and her family.

My next stop is a pottery shop although calling it a shop is a bit much. There is a thin cloth on the ground and a thin wooden shelf supported by the buildings wall. The pottery is, all things considered, beautiful. The colors seem to stay in the reds and oranges mostly, with a few pops of yellow used sparingly. For all that they are not colorful, they are beautiful. I pick several large platters with pictured stories decorating the borders that seem to speak mostly of their goddess. A few short fat mugs as well as small cups and pitchers have carefully carved wings with color upon the detailed feathers or a sun with shimmering rays. They even have little clay goody jars etched with a story about a bird and a flower as the lid.

The man sitting nearby is tall and thin with knobby knees and a crooked jaw. He's tense, stiff and somewhat fearful as he remains hunched over his work of a still wet clay bowl, a simple stick his only tool visible. His hair, like most of the other men here, is twisted into thick dreadlocks that barely reach his shoulders.

I kneel down next to him and offer a greeting even though I know he won't understand me. His eyes remain averted even when his face turns towards me. He doesn't move when I carefully pick up the first mug, or when I lift up the large platter with a large bird of prey carved into the center, outstretched wings touching the outer edges.

An older woman, though not yet fully grey- haired, hurries over to crowd against the man, whispering words to him while keeping a careful watch on me. Two kids, not yet teens, hurry over on awkwardly long limbs to hover nearby. A half dozen more children of various ages soon join them.

It seems I've become something of a spectacle. Perhaps they're not accustomed to those from the pyramid shopping here but no one said I couldn't. I'll warn Piran, that way, if there are any issues that may arise from this, he will be able to head them off.

I point out several items to the man. He speaks, words slurred as if his tongue is too large for his mouth. The woman crowded against him protectively repeats his words a little clearer although I still don't understand. I pull out a handful of knuts, a few silver sickles, and a golden gallon for him to choose. The crowd erupts in whispers but they still seem mostly curious. The woman has to prompt the man twice before he reaches for my hand, curling more into himself and only taking two knuts. I try not to frown but he makes a distressed sound so I must have. I take away the gallon and two of the sickles, offering the rest to the man. He looks to the woman who nudges him into taking the coins. I use some of the fabric I bought to cushion the pottery, putting what I can into my bag and carrying the rest.

The kids erupt into movement. Nearly all start talking at once. A few tug me along, encouraging each other as they lead me around to a few more places. A little lean-to shak has three young girls making jewelry with twisted fibrous rope and beads made either of clay or some kind of rolled and painted paper. I buy a few before being led to a woman weaving baskets. I buy two, packing my purchases away in them.

Once I'm out of sight, I shrink them all down and hurry back to the pyramid's main entryway.

There are a few buildings built along the river. I wander among them, less of a spectacle here than among the sand village bazaar. There are not really shops here. Few animals are kept within a few families, not enough to call them herds. Any pottery is made by the family needing it although it is often plain and simple. The fishermen carry around woven baskets with their catch to sell while the baker seems to give hard tack rolls away for free.

No, the only real 'shop' is either a healer, a blacksmith, or some combination of the two that exists in one of the larger buildings further from the river.

The woman has long twisted braids that click together with various clay beads. She is short and thickly built, with strong arms and long thick fingers. She wears the same simple grey-green cloth wrapped high on her waist that the others wear but with a thick yet softly worn leather apron that covers her from neck to knees.

Her shop has a low wooden table as well as a high backed chair that that is slightly reclining back. Both are made from thick heavy wood with wide leather straps. I almost mistook it for some sort of torture room when I first found it. Especially with the young man strapped down to the table screaming as she poured something onto the box trapping his hand before plunging his arm up to the elbow into a barrel of water next to him. The water hissed and bubbled while the man tried to stifle his sobs as his family surrounded the table.

Thankfully, one of the older men around the table noticed me and tried to explain. Of course, I didn't understand a word but he showed me his hand and motioned to the others who had the same attachments. What I had thought was some kind of jewelry was really long metal claws welded onto their hands. The metal rises nearly to the third knuckle with a strange hump then sweeps down to a sharp point about twice the length of their finger. It mimics claws, in a way, and it seems to be favored among those living on this world.

I leave it for a while but return the next day out of curiosity. The woman is pleasant, smiling widely and welcoming me into her shop. She doesn't seem overly bothered by the fact that I can't speak her language and instead mimes out what answers she can to questions that I can only hint at asking.

She allows me to examine the table, touching curiously at the thick leather belts and thin sand-filled cushions. The box that sits on the table matches the many sitting upon shelves along the wall. The box has belts that lock it closed, the inside holds an impression of a hand with fingers stretched long. There are openings along the top, a wide trench following the length of the second knuckle, where the hot metal is added to the mold.

Glancing at the woman standing patiently nearby, I hold out my right hand hoping that the gesture will translate even if the words do not. It must, because she holds out her right hand and lets me examine it. The claws are heavy and they leave her hand heavy too. The dark metal starts just shy of the third knuckle of each finger. It coats each finger, rising up in a triangular hump over the area between the first and second knuckles before stretching down to a sharp edged tip. Her claws have decorations on them, little colored stones on the sides of the humps and about where her fingernails would be if they were visible.

With a smile, I release her hand only for her to catch mine before I can pull away. She examines my hand, turning it this way and that while smoothing her fingers along each of mine. She taps one long metal claw against my first and second knuckle of my first finger, then points to the strange tool on the table. So it's not an apple core thing but a finger core thingy? She uses it to carve out a hollow portion of each finger at the first and second knuckles. She then shows me a wide metal pin, holding it up to my finger and I realize that the hole is cut through the finger to anchor the claws, most likely because the weight would be too much otherwise.

I offer her a sickle for humoring me but repeated motions only barely convey that I don't actually want the claws. She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head and waving me off but not truly bothered by the hour I spent with her.

It took five days before we could leave the desert world. Three jumps before we reached the Tokra home world and another two days to prove we are who we are, or at least Piran is who he says he is. But still, a week away from home feels longer after having to pander to a Gould Queen's court.

Stepping through the veil back on OUR homeworld is a relief.

Not much has changed and yet several things have. The high grasses that grew tall and wild have been cut down low. The chattering monkeys are still racing high in the bamboo like trees while a group of what may be brown peacocks roam about the open area. Two squat buildings now sit on either side of the veil, each made of bamboo and twine while Sirius's magic hums protectively over each.

Samir steps forward, a relieved smile on his face as I turn at his greeting, "Well met, my lord, we worried while you were gone."

"It took longer than I would like but I am home now," I glance past him to the other guard, Topir, a quiet fellow who's strong body has many twisted scars. "I trust all is well?"

Samir nods, "Well and happier now, with your return."

Chapter Text

Chapter 39 : A Welcome Home

Samir leads me back to the village, explaining where Sirius has gone to, "It was E'Ga who found them. He went further than the fishers village, to greet those in the caves beyond."

He looks at me so I nod that I'm following. He continues, "He said the cavern folk have explored beyond the mountains and spoke of herds of large creatures. He spoke with God-Father for some time. Then God-Father left by his powers for a half day. When he reappeared, he gathered others to follow E'Ga to the herds so they can catch some of the animals."

"How long have they been gone?" I ask, absently noticing that the path has been widened by about six feet so that now two wagons can comfortably drive side by side and large flat stones made of clay now make up a sturdy road begining at the treeline but clearly still being worked on.

"Three days now, my lord."

"I am no lord, Samir, as I've told you before, I am just Harry."

He smiles back, "I will call you as you wish, my lord Hari."

I can't help the snort that escapes me. Shaking my head at his teasing I let it go. "Do we know when to expect their return?"

Again he shrugs, stepping up to a tall bamboo gate door that now seals off the large opening between two walls that make up our border on this side. An older man with a hunched back and frail withered limbs opens the door. It seems to be a bit of a struggle, dragging it inward before pushing it back in place. A transfiguration creates a better gate, two sides to open wide enough for a wagon to enter while easier for the guard to open.

The old man startles, backing away a few steps before rushing forward to touch the fence and pull open the gate. He turns to me wide eyed, nodding and mumbling in a different language. Samir catches his arm, steadying him for a moment.

"His name is Tzren," Samir tells me, motioning to the elder. "He is one of the cavern folk but he asked to stay here now that it's safer."

I offer a greeting and leave the elder to his watch. We continue, passing one of the smaller fountains along the way. A few small kids are splashing in the lowest bowl while an older girl watches them. One of the splashing boys spot me first, giving a joyful shout while scrambling over to give me a hug. The others hurry to join, each with shouts of, "Lord H'Ari!"

I dont correct them because I know they are trying. They follow us to the main courtyard, each eagerly talking over the others. The courtyard is mostly clear since everyone is off tending to animals, tilling the new farms, or minding the children. The noise from the children draw enough attention that others soon step out of various buildings to join with smiles and cheers at my return.

Mehriban shouts gladly from the schoolhouse doorway, racing up to me with her yellow veil slipping from her shoulders to expose her beautifully braided hair. Nesrine appears in the doorway next, smiling relieved and rushing forward while holding her pink veil in place. I open my arms to catch Mehriban, lifting her up and spinning. She laughs, her eyes glowing as she peppers my face with kisses. I pull her into a chaste kiss and set her back on her feet, holding her close. Nesrine steps up happily with a heartfelt welcome and a loving kiss.

"You are all well, I trust," I ask while the mixed class of children and Marloi gather around to offer greetings.

"We are well, husband, and a gift to celebrate your return awaits us," Nesrine answers happily.

"Then let us see this gift," I nod before calling to the others, "Let us end classes for today."

A cheer goes up with the kids running off excited to tell others of my return. Nesrine speaks to her kinsmen, asking that a few help create a feast while she and Mehriban pull me home. The inside is warm even if the fire has long since cooled. There are reed mats over the floor with some thicker rugs laying closer to the hearth and two heavy tapestries next to the bedroom doors.

Mehriban pulls me first to the tapestry beside Sirius's door. It bears a central image of a black human figure and a large bear-like hound at its side. The two have flaming red and yellow threads stretching from their hands up to grey and white link chains connecting shadowed figures. The bottom shows squat shapes that somewhat resemble our village while the sides hold writing in sharp symbols; in English and at least two different languages. It tells how Sirius and I used our powers to rescue them from the false gods, bringing them to a new home where they are safe and free. Around the central figures are various items, a fountain, beds, folded cloth, food, animals, and other small items.

"It's beautiful," I feel myself whisper out, trailing fingers over various threads.

"We wished for all to know of your great deeds," Mehriban says proudly. "Your story is also being crafted into feast platters, we should see them tonight."

Mehriban then pulls me over to our doorway. The second has rather well made images of me with Nesrine and Mehriban on either side in the center of the tapestry. The figures are rough but the colors are bright and obviously meant to portray us. It too has many images along the borders. One near the top shows the cave on Marloon, beside it is a small figure caught in swirling blue. The opposite corner has what must be their home on Marloon with vague images of who must be their fathers and grandfather. On the bottom right is a honeycomb of what must be the room in the Tokra tunnels while the left side has the rough outline of our village here with our home the central image. There are images of animal herds and baskets overflowing with goods creating an inner border of sorts. The side borders have outlines of many people dressed in bright colors with their arms raised and surrounded by floating musical instruments.

"It is our story, husband mine," Nesrine tells me proudly.

I can't stop the proud grin, "It is beautifully made, both are. Whenever did you have the time to complete such wonders?"

Mehriban giggles, "We have worked on them mostly since our kin have arrived and nearly every day that you have been away from us. A few of the wives helped us work but it is mostly by our own hand. Mehreen helped on the one for God-Father but..."

Nesrine speaks up when Mehriban trails off, "She helped us to tell God-Father's story but we did not have her help on our own."

Part of me wants to apologize for taking her away from them but truly I do not regret it. I don't mind that she helped on Sirius's tapestry because when it was the three of us, we were happy. We spent many evenings as a family and Sirius came to care for her, for them all, in time. He was as upset by her and Baara's behavior as I was. Nesrine must sense it because she tugs me towards the stairs leading to our secluded bath.

I'm no longer as shy as I once was when we bathe together. I toss aside my cloak and the simple long tunic that Lantash loaned to me so I did not return in the Lotar clothes. Mehriban tosses her veil and unwinds her skirt eagerly. Nesrine slips past, already bare but with her braided hair wrapped around her head with a thin twisted cloth. I relax into the warm water with a heavy sigh. Mehriban begins to wash my shoulders while Nesrine stats on my hair. I let myself relax beneath their hands, feeling the tension of the past couple weeks fade away.

We wrap ourselves in towel cloth that covers us almost fully. Back in our room, we dress quickly. Nesrine wraps a vibrant orange skirt around her waist and the shirt/top is a deep red with orange and yellow stitching. Her red veil drapes over her hair and wraps around her shoulders. Mehriban chooses a green skirt with a yellow veil and top, both have trailing borders of daisy flowers.

Outside in the courtyard, several tables have been set up. There are chairs, benches, and bamboo mats that are already filling up. Ama organizes the food cooking while others move through the crowd to set platters of food on the tables. Bamboo platters full of cut fruit are carried around. Skewers of meat are passed around with baskets of breads. Jugs of water are carried around, pouring into cups made of clay or bamboo. Several heads turn, calling greetings to us as we step outside.

"My friends," I call out to many cheers, "I am happy to see you all again. Now, let us feast!"

Music is produced with short fat drums and long wooden flutes. Voices sing, some in English while other languages are used as well. Mehriban pulls me over to one of the cushions piled high near our homes wall. Kids run around underfoot. One young girl rushes over with a basket of rolls while others are soon rushing around carrying platters over to us before returning them to the tables. Alma appears at one point to scowl a bit scoldingly at me while handing me a long plate holding roasted meat chunks and a short wooden cup of wine. Another girl carries over a jug and two more cups for Nesrine and Mehriban.

This is not the longest I have been away so I whisper to ask Nesrine for the reason. She glances around a moment before leaning close to whisper back, "You took a false God away. One came to our world and you pulled him from his body and took him away through the chappai. You were gone long so we do not know of your battles but that you return to us is a clear victory."

I start to correct her because it was a Tokra that came and I didn't battle anyone but she continues, "We celebrate your victory and know that we are safe here, my husband."

I close my mouth. I guess if it helps them feel safer then it's okay. I just hope they don't start calling me and Sirius gods or something. A few toddlers gather around to crawl on my wives eagerly. Mehriban is pulled up at one point to twirl with some tween girls while Nesrine hums a lullaby to two of the toddlers curled in her lap. A third toddler steals bites from my plate much to my amusement.

The wine is warm and the laughter and music soon has me and Mehriban dancing. She twirls and laughs and I doubt my dancing can even be called such but it is fun. Nesrine joins us where she and Mehriban twirl and dance around me, into my arms and out again.

Evening sets comfortably with the party having calmed considerably. Nesrine pulls me up from the cushions where we were resting. Mehriban yawns widely behind her hand so I let them lead me home, curling an arm around them both. The fireplace is dark but it's warm enough that I don't relight it.

It's a relief to slip on my sleep tunic and undershorts. Mehriban undresses, tossing the long flowing fabrics onto the couch and slipping a pale shift over her bare skin. Nesrine moves slower, neatly folding the cloth and placing them on her shelf. We need a few proper wardrobes for them. Perhaps I can work on that tomorrow.

I press a tired kiss to Mehriban's lips as she moves up to the loft bed sleepily. Nesrine seems to linger so I do as well. She picks up her shift, shaking out the cloth and draping it over her arm. There's a nervous tension to her even as she tries to remain relaxed.

"Is something wrong?" I ask, stepping up behind her to keep her nakedness shielded in case anyone comes in. Not that anyone is likely to enter but I dont want her to feel exposed.

"Do you desire me, husband?" She whispers quietly.

I turn her around gently, touching her chin so that she will look me in the eyes as I answer, "I find you to be a most beautiful and wonderful woman."

"You do not lay with me, husband," she answers sadly, lowering her eyes.

"I did not want to cause you pain or distress," I try to explain. "I can only imagine how frightening it must be to leave everything behind as you have and I didn't think you could consent if you could not speak with me."

"We have waited for you to claim us as a husband does but you have not. We want to be wives to you, husband," she looks up shyly, "We want to truly be family.

For a moment I remember the sound of her lullaby while she cuddled the two little ones and the cheekiness of the toddler stealing bites of my food. I remember the look of longing in her eyes when she held a baby during class for one of the nursing mothers. It's not sex that she's asking for, not really. She wants a child. She's ready to be a mother now. I smile, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

There is still a question in her gaze. I stroke my fingers along her jaw until I cup her cheek. She is beautiful with her dark bronze skin and long lashes over her dark eyes. My eyes trace the elegant slope of her forhead, to the long stretch of her nose, and to the gentle swell of her lips. There is a powdered pink color smoothed over her eyelids and cheeks. For all her physical beauty, it is her heart that I love. The kindness she shows to our freedmen who are so vastly different than her own people. The strength she has shown in helping to build up our home, teaching the people to read, all while learning a new way of life on a rather primitive world. She has managed all of the trials and difficulties of this marriage with all the grace and steadiness of a queen.

I press my lips to hers again, putting as much love and affection into the act as I can. She sighs, melting against me. Her arms wrap around my neck, pressing tighter against me. She pulls back to whisper against my lips, "I would be a true wife, my husband, if you so desire."

I've always wanted a family of my own. Perhaps this is my chance, our chance. If she is ready and it's something we both want then it's something we can do. A foggy image of messy raven hair and dark eyes enters my mind, filling me with such longing.

This night, we leave her slip on the ground. My sleepshirt joins it. We still have the bedding set up beneath the bed ledge so I pull her down to it. She expects me to lead but doesn't seem upset that I go slowly. I press kisses to warm skin, train my fingers along curves, it's a slow exploration but a pleasurable one. When I enter her it is with relief, held in her arms feel so much like home.