A magnificent minded, amber haired and grand hearted little wife; she deserved only earnest candour and affection, and from her dear Hisham, always had it. There was such a matter of refinement in the enjoyment, of the pleasure consecrated between them - whether be by pleasant dialogue, or the intertwining of their fingers, beneath a silken sheet. He lacked not words now; all manner of joy and gentle posturing, leapt from his lips. “The French halls are mutinous, at best – but all fear, let it be quelled by my hand now, for I shall be married to a thousand deaths, should harm befall our kin. Do you recall the lure, of the cool deep lake near our chambers, but six years past? The bells in the square sounding high, as we were but waisted deep in the cool splendour….let us be there now, with our ease. I do not grow soft, as I must remind myself – yet I must, whilst remaining vigilant, remain unguarded, to be enjoy the vivid delights, of your affections.” If moonlight were to fall onto the room at once, it would illuminate a glorious path to the Catholic’s beloved Eden, found on settee, where the Emir and his beloved Hürrem, now sat.
“A thousand blessings, one to pair to each of your intelligent and kind thoughts; I gaze down the Parisian summit, and find only a wealth of opportunity, to provide our Allah, reason for our gifted triumphs.” She gathered him close to her heart, uttering phrases which provoked him to be ever so grateful, to be a seraph’s husband. No procession, no celestial jewelry or heavenly brow, struck him as grand or sweeping, as the aspects of Hürrem’s character, which made her poetically spiritual. “I grant he has my shoulders and stern stare, but he is coloured by the traits which make your character, my perfect match – the qualities I lack, that you readily supply. He will make a fine Emir, will he not? May I pass him the torch and retire to a far away palace, to pass my later years, in your company.” The more he saw of the West, of their fractured loves and ill-gotten wars of piety, the closer he clung to his home, his wife – Hisham would come to a day, where he could not care for chanting advisers and the weight of a temporal foe. He would declare his faith, declare his peace, and depart, to do right his by guiding light - guiding wife. “I would not be opposed, to your methods of interrogation, particularly if they rely on the invocation of your other worldly sleight of hand - though you would mark me a rotten sport, as I would reveal myself empty handed. I gaze across the courts and I grant there is a marvelous bevy of ladies, each with their own strengths and ambitions; but none, I admit, that I fashion by his side. Do you believe it possible, to replicate the power of our match?
the story told painted the most desirable of scenes in her mind, so alluring that they drew lids closed over sapphire eyes so that he might guide her mind there; where safety and love reigned and worries of the west washed away with the pool’s cool waters. how she smiled to think that they would be there again soon! away from catholic halls and the enemies which inhabited them, far from those who would wish harm upon them, and back in their well earned sanctuary. with a sigh came realisation. if they did not stand to be seen in defence their sanctuary would no longer be theirs, so this they must do. hürrem continued to smile in hope as her eyes opened once more, losing her grip on the memories of their coveted evening but finding a much greater prize remaining by her side. “ softness is a strength when shared with the right person. if you were to be guarded with me, habibi, we would not be as strong as we are now and so how can it be anything but to our advantage? ”
to talk of her children brought immense pride unto the heart of the emira, one which usually caused her to sit straighter with her chin lifted to the heavens in delight, but to hear hisham speak of them in the same way she did filled her with a warmth which made her want to shrink into his embrace out of joy for what they had made. there was little time for that, however, as hisham’s tongue soon turned to speak of their son and his future title. it was a topic she often sought to avoid. out of feeling it disrespectful, traitorous, but also knowing that to see her son rise as the emir meant to lower her husband into his grave; a nightmare she could not bear to entertain the thought of ever, if she might help it. “ he will achieve so much greatness - but are such things possible? to yield your place in favour of our son? i would never ask such a thing of you, none would, but if you wished it so ... i would be delighted that we might see such a day through together. ” her tone rang somberly, clearly saddened by such talk, as hands sought to retrieve one of his palms once more so to remind herself that these things were far off in the future and she might still hold her beloved close for many years to come. allah willing. a swift burst of gentle laughter was quick to sweep away any thoughts of loss, her gaze lifting from the lines upon his palm to seek to drown within his own, afire curls shifting as hürrem shook her head in response. “ no - none shall ever be blessed to experience the tapestry of marriage that we have weaved over our many years. how i held the first thread behind the lattice and wondered if it would be destined so that you held the other end... i had watched you arrive from the window, you know? gazed upon you as you crossed the courtyard and found myself fearful of the power you held, frightened of the power you might have over me, but all the more curious if you could match the furious sultana that i was. do you think karim would have the patience to entertain such stubbornness? ”
vaporwave
kianamaiart
jbbartram-illu
turnnoffyourmind
baratheonpilled
discoholicmusic
