M’traliel saw to the headsail, while Khahishra saw to steering, holding the boat steady as it lurched forward from the force of sail catching the wind.

Once sails were set, the three relaxed, enjoying the warmth of late spring, attempting to find normalcy in their lives, with M’traliel and Khahishra trying to assist Jahrae in moving past the tragic loss of llhaesa the previous year.

Jahrae returned to home early in the year, recovered from the addiction that led her to run away and live homeless, uncaring if she lived or died. Thanks to the efforts of Jesnsera and Elsrensia, Jahrae pulled through, and returned determined to see llhaesa’s dream fulfilled.

This was her first sail since llhaesa’s loss, and undertaking this trip meant facing head on the most precious of memories of their marriage.

Jahrae grew up with sailing virtually in her blood; it was as natural as breathing. During their two years of marriage, Jahrae taught llhaesa to sail, the out of doors loving musician took an immediate liking to sailing, and on their first sail together, decided to buy the new and well equipped 9-metre Overture.

When M’traliel first mentioned a weekend on Overture, Jahrae resisted, knowing the memories would prove powerful and painful. Yet M’traliel insisted, patiently explaining that llhaesa would be aghast knowing Jahrae gave up something she so dearly loved, while wishing not to touch the memories of the good times had in association with the boat and the Bay.

M’traliel knew Jahrae had to face these issues squarely, else they would always lurk in the shadows, threatening to consume her if she dared to challenge what was in reality self-constraints.

When they reached the dock earlier, Jahrae stopped and stared off into the Bay, undoubtedly seeing Overture in her mind’s eye, llhaesa upon the boat, her hair waving in the breeze, her friendly smile stoking the fires of love that would always burn within Jahrae for llhaesa.

Two minutes passed before Jahrae moved again, simply saying, “Let’s get onboard and head out.”

For her part, Jahrae felt determined to face down the memories, to bend them to her will, to cherish without being their prisoner. Every place in the Bay that carried strong llhaesa memories – and there were many – Jahrae would attempt to visit. Although she did not share this with Khahishra and M’traliel, Jahrae hoped to see Empo, for it was with Empo that llhaesa first found a true connection to the water.

Their first stop was the small, uninhabited island where the sailing couple spent a night sleeping, pondering the sky, their love, and making good on merging both into treasured memory.

Leaving the boat, they walked the beach, circumventing the island. Jahrae stopped as something half buried in the sand caught her eye – a shell, displaying a myriad of changing colour as the light of Arrhka played upon its varied surface. Hesitating for a moment, Jahrae finally reached out for the shell, placing it in the palm of her hand.

The shell looked eerily like that of the one found on her walk of the island, and that she picked up to give to llhaesa. Llhaesa loved it so, and for that reason, Jahrae treasured the shell. Jahrae decided the universe sent a message to take the shell with her, a shell now discarded by its prior inhabitant.

Khahishra noticed the display of colour upon the item in Jahrae’s hand, and moved in for a closer look. “That looks like the shell you gave llhaesa,” she remarked, confirming Jahrae’s suspicion of similarity. “It is beautiful!”

M’traliel walked off to the Bay side of Khahishra and Jahrae, some 25 metres away and to their right, slowly walking through ankle deep water, dragging her feet to create a whooshing sound. She wore a colourful, predominantly blues and greens sarong around her waist, covering the one piece navy blue bathing suit below, the hem of the skirt sloshing through the water.

Through the loss of llhaesa and Jahrae’s subsequent disappearance, M’traliel distanced herself from the shock and loss of her friend. They had been lovers once, seven years before, and lived together for two years. Llhaesa was near and dear to her, even though they long since mutually decided to go their own ways romantically, and reform as friends.

M’traliel found llhaesa’s loss beginning to fully hit home; this feeling had tried to find purchase for weeks now, tried to catch M’traliel in reflective moments where grief would flood throughout her, finally coming to terms with the reality of llhaesa’s loss.

M’traliel lived with a singular vision, that of equality. Her enthusiasm mixed with that of the younger llhaesa, and both of them gained strength from the will of each other and their mutual drive to achieve equality. She could no longer shut out the pain of loss of her missing friend; it was time to come to terms with the truth.

M’traliel promoted the idea of this weekend, thinking it would benefit Jahrae. In reality, Jahrae was not alone in her need to face memories and learn to cope with them.

Now M’traliel and llhaesa’s shared vision, still residing in M’traliel, carried a new element, that of guilt. Llhaesa might still be alive if M’traliel had not encouraged her to accept calls she lead their world.

Llhaesa was closer to such an achievement than she realised. One turn of events, and the call for llhaesa to lead would reach a point where things would sweep her into the office of Chief of Government. The last interview done with llhaesa was a direct statement llhaesa intended to turn up the pressure, and once Brellian learned of this, there was no way llhaesa would be left alone to challenge him.

M’traliel let these thoughts swirl through her mind, let the chaos of the whooshing water physically represent the turmoil that now moved to run amok through her being.

First one tear eked out of a duct and softly slid down her face, a harbinger of a greater torrent in imminent readiness to release. When the second tear followed, it was larger and dropped rapidly, followed by an endless stream and uncontrolled wailing.

M’traliel dropped to the water, her sarong instantly soaking in the over washing water. Her hands came up and concealed her face, blocking as if she had no right to grieve, and no one should know she grieved.

Jahrae heard first, turning toward her right, seeing M’traliel distressed. Khahishra realised a split second later, and the two broke into a full out run, covering the short distance between they and M’traliel.

Both dropped into the water and moved to comfort M’traliel, knowing there was no need to ask what was wrong. The three rocked and cried and hugged, not moving from their watery place of grieving, trying to adjust to the absence of the final member of the four friends, the one each unintentionally and by default looked up to for guidance, for strength, to lead the way.

They were on their own now, but they still had each other.

The tide crept upward, up to their waists, and still they hugged, cried, rocked, and remembered. It was not until the water reached to the bottom of their breasts that they stood and moved to shore, and as they did, a noise from seaward called out.

Jahrae knew that high-pitched call.

She ran back into the Bay, moved into a swimming stroke that to M’traliel and Khahishra carried the grace and power of a professional, and determinedly swam to the source of the sound. Empo.

On this day, Empo failed to exhibit his usual playfulness, eschewing it for affection for Jahrae. He nuzzled, he brushed, he stayed close, and Jahrae would swear, cried. Jahrae wrapped her arms as best she could around the massive sea mammal, hugging and replicating the nuzzling by Empo.

They stayed there for maybe fifteen minutes, Khahishra and M’traliel marvelling at what unfolded out from shore. Empo made a move to swim and stopped, doing this thrice, until Jahrae realised he was trying to get her to swim with him. Jahrae held on, and off they went at breakneck speed.

Empo first swam parallel to land, then turned seaward, another turn parallel to land in the opposite direction, with one final turn towards the island, veering tangentially toward where M’traliel and Khahishra stood.

He brought her to within a few metres of shore; until the water was of such a shallow depth, he could come no closer.

Jahrae came to her feet, and then fell to her knees, giving Empo one final hug, reciprocated by one final nudge. He swam off as she watched, his fin finally disappearing under the water.

As she walked the last few metres to shore, Jahrae realised life goes on, that it is ok to grieve, that it is ok to remember. Something happens in death, the person we love morphs and leaves physically, but they become part of us, and where llhaesa lived onward, in her mind, in her soul, and in those of all she ever knew.

Less than a year after llhaesa’s loss, Jahrae had no inkling that fourteen years later, she would stand on the cusp of reuniting with her partner, and that the love of then would be exponentially stronger – if such a thing were possible – than the love of now.

The pictures varied from a singular shot of llhaesa holding one award, her toothy smile never more evident, to her standing by the quickly improvised table set up as a temporary place to hold the 17 awards that came llhaesa’s way during the programme – with llhaesa looking on just a tad unbelieving.

Publishers quickly sent llhaesa a very tasteful framed paper print of their particular front page, something carrying no small cost in the age of an electronic publishing society, where the only reason paper was manufactured – and then only in small quantities –was for ceremonial or celebratory purposes.

Jahrae hung the award pictures on one wall of llhaesa’s music studio, her judgment lost in the great pride she felt in her partner’s accomplishments. Llhaesa promptly took them all down, remarking “I know you are proud of me, Jahrae, and believe me, I appreciate your love and support, but I’m not about to live in a shrine to myself, or live my life with some misplaced and misguided sense of self-importance.”

While she ought to be upset at what seemed at first to be a mild rebuke, she knew llhaesa was not rebuking her, rather rebuking some notion she was better than others were. Llhaesa hated such thinking right to the core of her being, and her egalitarian outlook – at least in Jahrae’s eyes – was one of her most beautiful traits.

Still, Jahrae felt badly stuffing the award pictures in some hidden away place, and so she devised a plan: she would give four to llhaesa’s parents, and four to her own parents. Llhaesa would be annoyed, but Jahrae knew their parents would tenaciously guard and defend their right to hang the pictures. In time, llhaesa would accept this in the same way a child came to accept their parents showing others their more candid baby pictures – with an eye roll, and then moving on. The ‘baby picture’ analogy triggered a slight giggle in Jahrae, her thoughts flashing back to the Hrensa concert a few months before.

Jahrae had no intent to be deceitful; she would not surreptitiously send the pictures to their parents. No, she would simply invite them over, and then raise the matter as an idea. Once their parents latched on to this idea, which she assumed they would with the ferocity of some forest creature protecting her cub, llhaesa would have little choice but to accede to the plan.

While modesty and such was important to llhaesa, the rest of her family had a right to celebrate the accomplishments of someone they so dearly loved.

Three days later, Djellrin and Hrilleae joined Saehressa and Mrevan for an afternoon at Jahrae’s and llhaesa’s flat. Basking in the brilliant and warming rays of Arrhka on their rooftop patio, Jahrae squelched the butterflies in her stomach and casually raised the issue.

“I’m certain you’ve all seen the front pages of various weekly media – the ones with llhaesa’s smiling or somewhat bewildered face. Over the last several days, each publisher sent a framed copy of their front page, and without showing them to you in the moment, trust me when I say they are quite elegantly and tastefully prepared.

Llhaesa is uncomfortable with them hanging in our home – we’ve come to expect this of our llhaesa, right?” Jahrae paused, looking around at each parent, who nodded affirmatively, then continued.

It seems a huge waste to stuff them in a closet somewhere, when some of us do find pride in her accomplishments. A thought occurred to me – instead of shoving them in a closet, why not give some to each of our parents?” This time, llhaesa spoke up.

“I doubt our parents wish to display this stuff in their homes, Jahrae. Please… I am proud of the 17 awards. Does that mean I must endure my own image staring back at me? I am hardly narcissistic!”

“You are the antithesis of narcissistic!” Mrevan spoke up, his hands assisting with and accenting his comments. “That in turn does not mean your parents have ceded the right to display our love and affection for you when an opportunity presents itself. This is a time-honoured parental thing, llhaesa. Perhaps one day both of you will know the joy to be found in this, but for now, humour us!”

The other three parents displayed their own enthusiastic support for Mrevan’s comments through animated movements and commenting almost in unison. For her part, llhaesa sensed it was hopeless to pursue the matter, and meekly succumbed with a very quiet “all right,” while simultaneously pulling her face into a pout. It was the first time Jahrae ever saw her wife display anything resembling a pout.

“Llhaesa,” Saehressa spoke now, offering her motherly perspective. “It isn’t that we are trying to make you larger than life – that is impossible. We know you on a human scale. Goddess of Arrhazon, I carried you within me, felt you stir, and could sense your great desire and anticipation to get on with life.

I knew from the first you would meld humility with a sense of social purpose, as well as with your great love of music and drive to succeed. When we display these pictures, they are not our attempt to say ‘look world, our daughter is great,’ it is our attempt to say, ‘look world, we love our daughter. We love her for millions of reasons that are impossible to display anywhere but in our hearts and minds.”

No one spoke for a moment, digesting all that Saehressa placed on the table for consideration. Finally, llhaesa rose from her seat and crossed over to her mum, giving her a huge hug. “Thanks mum. You always have a way of seeing the way through something. That makes a boatload of sense, and I thank you for easing my concerns.”

“Now speaking of boats… Jahrae and I purchased one.” Llhaesa said this wearing a Cheshire cat grin, in part for the purchase, in part for successfully changing the subject.

“Boat?” Hrilleae interjected. This was her element, her forte. Djellrin ran a close second, but in years past, Hrilleae was best sailor in their extended family by acclamation. Both parents shared their knowledge with Jahrae, and she learned well. If the subject came up, Hrilleae would call Jahrae the better sailor. They taught her well.

“Two weeks before the awards, as you know we took a bit of vacation time. Initially we planned on a three-day weekend, but our plan went awry,” llhaesa paused there, with Jahrae stepping in to continue the story.

“On the second day, llhaesa spent time swimming with an empohnim, one she quickly named ‘Empo.’ Moment by moment, I could see llhaesa coming alive with an experience she never anticipated. This was after watching her fall head over heels in love with slicing through the water powered by nothing but the wind, unhindered by artificial noise.

Once we were back in the boat, llhaesa broached a proposal: return to the harbour, return the boat, buy our very own, and then set sail, while resetting the three-day vacation clock.

I counter-proposed, successfully negotiating for a full week of new time at sea.” Jahrae finished, her own smile growing wide at the memory.

“Aren’t empohnims a world of fun?” Hrilleae asked llhaesa, her eyes aglow with her own memories. “I’ve spent many a time in the water with them, they are adorable, friendly, and graceful creatures – and fierce protectors if they sense a threat to you by other sea creatures.”

“Tell us about your boat!” Mrevan threw a question into the discussion before adding, “Do you have imagery of the boat?”

“Yes we do, dad” llhaesa offered, I’ll be right back.” Llhaesa disappeared for a few short minutes, then returned with a digital photo device.

“Ooh, a real beauty! Mrevan exclaimed, a quick and muted whistle following his comment. The album made the rounds of the room, and Djellrin confessed he was “absolutely smitten with your new boat!”

Saehressa asked after the name of the boat, with Jahrae providing the answer. She wished to add another tangent to the discussion, and offered up what was on her mind.

“Llhaesa and I have discussed this, and please know the boat is available for any and all of us to use. All we ask is that any plans made in advance be shared, that way we all can co-ordinate when it is in use or available for use.”

Llhaesa spoke up, suggesting they spend a weekend on the boat together. It would easily accommodate the six of them. The six made and affirmed plans for the second following weekend, where they would introduce Saehressa and Mrevan to the joys of Bay life.

Mrevan was skittish; Saehressa found it ‘an exciting idea!” Llhaesa could not wait to get her parents aboard, where she would spend extra effort to help her dad enjoy the experience.

Technorati Tags: writing,, creative writing, novels,lesbian,, feminism,feminist,feminist-fiction,, feminist, stories,, lesbian, stories,, feminist, writing,, lesbian, writing,, literature,, lesbian, literature,, feminist, literature,, ebooks,, e, books,, online, books,, online, novels,, e, novels,, blog, novels,, blog, books,, blog, stories,, blog, fiction,, original, fiction

After a fashion, she too felt the urge to play. First stripping off the tee shirt that covered a bathing suit underneath, she dove in and joined the fray.

Llhaesa spotted Jahrae, and swam over for a kiss in greeting. Seeing this show of affection, Empo came up on the side of both, nudging Jahrae with his own method of expressing fondness. She kissed him just below the eye in return.

His curiosity about this new human in the water – one obviously on good terms with his other human friend – now satiated, Empo watched intently for llhaesa’s next move.

Llhaesa dove under the water, with Empo in hot pursuit. Within moments, Jahrae could see llhaesa moving across the surface of the water at a clip well beyond the limits of human capability – she was holding onto Empo, screaming exhilaratingly as she plied the bay at a speed somewhere around 30 kilometres per hour.

After ten minutes, llhaesa was back alongside Jahrae, still basking in the excitement of her empohnim ride. Empo remained by her side, and Jahrae could not help but wonder whether he would be sad when they re-boarded the sailboat.

Llhaesa looked at Jahrae with sad and reluctant eyes. “I guess it is time we get back on the boat, but one more Empo-ride, this time with both of us riding.”

The two partners held on for dear life as Empo whooshed through the bay water, occasionally turning or zig zagging, obviously reacting to the laughter and excitement generated by his riders – who weren’t actually riding at all, instead holding on by way of his dorsal fin. Sensing the need to end the ride, Empo came to a rest near their boat. Jahrae was the first to say her goodbyes, giving Empo a quick hug, then swimming over to the boat. Llhaesa lingered a few extra moments.

“It is time for me to leave, Empo. I will always remember you and the time spent in your space. You have taught me much.” Llhaesa finished by wrapping her arms around the sea mammal, giving him a loving squeeze while resting her head upon his. With a final peck on his face, she swam back to the boat, where Jahrae sat on the bow wrapped in a towel.

Llhaesa climbed aboard, grabbing her own towel, and asked Jahrae if she wished to set sail. “I need to get moving or I’m going to burst into tears, Jahrae. Something important happened out there. Not something important on a global scale, but important on my scale.”

“No need to convince me, llhaesa. I knew you would take to sailing, knew you would take to the Bay. You have shown me how correct those assumptions were, ten times over.” Jahrae was thrilled that llhaesa found great joy in her world.

The two teamed to raise the sail, Jahrae then seeing to the anchor, llhaesa taking the helm. Soon they were on their way, the empohnim entourage faithfully following the boat.

Jahrae joined llhaesa by the helm. “I love you, but… should I fear losing you to Empo?” Jahrae teased. “OK, that was low… I know you found something special out there today, and I suspect it will soon find its way into song.”

Llhaesa nodded, a smile playing on her face. Suddenly, a look spawned by idea washed over her face. “Jahrae lets buy a boat. Let’s go back right now, buy a boat, and come back out for a fresh round of three days.”

“Are you serious? I am with you on the boat deal, but… you wish to take more time off for play? Are you feverish? I am on school break – my time is your time, but you normally get antsy when separated for an extended time from a keyboard. Are you certain you wish to do this?” Jahrae needed to ask now, needed to find where llhaesa’s thoughts lie, needed to be the voice of reason. Whether she could do this was an entirely different matter.

“Yeah, I know… but that will be ok. I have not taken a real vacation since high school – with my parents. Jahrae, I need this to refresh my soul. The Artists Colony carried a different purpose – while it was a vacation on one level, I worked like hell on writing as well.” Llhaesa obviously had given this thought.

“If you are certain this is how you feel, then I’ll make a proposal of my own. We buy the boat, and we sail for a full extra week. That would be my terms.” Jahrae flashed a wide grin at llhaesa.

“It’s a deal!”

They quickly came about, llhaesa relinquishing the helm to the more skilled Jahrae. By mid-afternoon, they were back at the rental shop, the clerk surprised to see them a day early. “We’ve decided to buy a boat, and since this is our choice, no refund is expected,” offered Llhaesa, easing his anticipated fear. As an afterthought, she added, “Where is your sales shop?”

“A bit further up the bay, you can see it from the docks. If you go back out to the road, turn left, and go about a kilometre, you cannot miss it. If you wish, I will call ahead for you,” the sales clerk graciously offered.

Fifteen minutes later, llhaesa and Jahrae sat in an office with a sales representative, looking through their online catalogue of in stock boats, narrowing the choices. Then they would actually check out the now winnowed possibilities.

The partners settled on a beautiful, top of the line 9-metre boat, one with a forest green hull and black and yellow striping around the top periphery of the hull. It featured brightly coloured yellow sails with black and forest green stripes, and carried about every amenity one could reasonably expect to find on a 9-metre boat.

They quickly consummated the sale – llhaesa immediately transferred full payment, so there was no need for financing – and the sales rep simultaneously requested the transfer of the boat from storage to water, with protective wrapping removed. Llhaesa and Jahrae asked them to forego any major prep work for now, in order that they quickly resume their vacation. Once vacation ended, they would return the boat to the dealer to complete whatever other things needed attention.

While this took place, they crossed the marina’s customer vehicle area to a food and provisions store, buying their anticipated needs for seven days at sea. Store employees helped them bring the purchases to the marina, where marina employees loaded it on board the boat for them.

An hour later, armed with the knowledge vacation was beginning anew, llhaesa and Jahrae set out in the newly named Overture.

“Thank you so much, Jahrae. You have quietly seen to the renewal of my soul. I cannot think of something I would rather do than sail the waters of the bay with you. You… have my heart, my soul, my mind, and my love.”

Suddenly, Jahrae looked at llhaesa and burst into tears, catching llhaesa totally by surprise. She quickly moved to comfort Jahrae – the why could be figured out later. It turned out there was no need, Jahrae volunteered why.

“I’ve known you for less than a year, llhaesa. A year ago, I worried that my parents – the social cause type *cough* would toss you – rapidly becoming the pre-eminent social cause advocate – at me for inspiration. I set out to learn what I could about you for parental rebuttal purposes. In the midst of reading your bio, I was stunned to see the government ban on you performing at government venues, as well as a myriad of little details, like beginning your music learning curve at age four – and then I saw your pictures for the first time. Can I just say my outlook changed with the information taken in that day?” Jahrae was laughing now, and then continued to share how she felt.

“I never ever would have guessed I would meet you, let alone marry you. You are so much more than what I thought in that first dumb crush phase, llhaesa. I love you more with each passing day. It seems impossible – my love knows no bounds – yet tomorrow morning I will still wake feeling my love for you grew overnight.

Jahrae was done talking, and llhaesa squeezed Jahrae tight, rocking her, whispering return comments in Jahrae’s ear, their embrace taking more urgency. Within moments, the boat was at anchor, and the two found great relief in discovering the bed linens were already prepared.

Technorati Tags: writing,, creative writing, novels,lesbian,, feminism,feminist,feminist-fiction,, feminist, stories,, lesbian, stories,, feminist, writing,, lesbian, writing,, literature,, lesbian, literature,, feminist, literature,, ebooks,, e, books,, online, books,, online, novels,, e, novels,, blog, novels,, blog, books,, blog, stories,, blog, fiction,, original, fiction

I am awake. “You bastard, why the water?” leaves my mind through my mouth; it is an almost automatic response. My face reforms into a scowl of total defiance. I was dreaming; there is no playful Empo, but a guard-goon dumping a glass of water in my face.

“Up, t’yaeli… now!” Guard-goon’s only answer is a short command. He pulls on my arm, roughly. I rise.

Guard-goon begins to pull me towards the door. He speaks. “Time for you to go – say goodbye to your home, t’yaeli!” His words end in a laugh. I steal a glance at the old floor-standing clock; it is 6:45 am. My head is pounding from the early morning flurry of alcohol.

There are a dozen guard-goons in here all told – a dozen just to hold me. I am going to die anyway, so… I break free, swing around, and kick holding guard-goon squarely in the nuts. He is bent over, har! Another guard-goon grabs my arm; I use his momentum to throw him over my shoulder, “take that, you arse hole! Yes!” I score a direct hit with him landing on top of first guard-goon!

A third goon comes at me; I slam my palm into his nose. Two others grab my arms and hold them tightly. First guard-goon is now standing – albeit a bit wobbly – and does not look happy. I see a blur of motion; my face turns violently left. First guard-goon has lashed out in retaliation. I can feel blood running down my face.

First guard-goon grabs my hair tightly, pulling on it to a position above my head; he punches me in the face again. I feel my legs give out, but the two goons holding me keep me upright. First guard-goon lashes out again, catching me full force in the stomach. I vomit on his shoes. He shoves me down to the floor, shoves my face in the vomit and tells me to lick it off his boots.

“Lick it yourself, arse hole!” is my response. He yanks me up again – how predictable – but the other two guard-goons are not holding me. He swings again; I catch his fist, deflecting his momentum just to the right of me, while using leverage to send him over once again. Ooh, he is seriously pissed.

Another guard-goon comes over and swings a club at me, and connects; I black out.

My eyes try to open, but they are swollen; so too my mouth. My whole body hurts. I am in a moving vehicle with three guard-goons around me. They have me chained to a metal post. I try to speak. “Where are you taking me?” There is no response. We ride for what seems like an hour, but I have no sense of time under the best of conditions.

We stop. The back doors of the goon-transport fly open; a guard goon unlocks the chain, then two other guard-goons pull me out. They tie my hands together with special cord.

We are inside a building parking area; despite their coercion, my legs refuse to move. They drag me toward a doorway. They pull me through the doorway into a service lobby, and then on into a lift. We begin to rise. This is a significant force; we are going high. Downtown… we must be downtown.

The lift stops; the door opens, they push me out. I stumble; they drag me back up, pulling me by my arms. “arrrrrrghhhhhhh” my arm sockets cause me to scream in agony.

Another door opens; we move forward to still another door. One of the guard-goons opens it, and the two dragging guard-goons throw me face first onto the floor; I slide and slam my face into a table. I feel something sharp under my left cheek; they knocked out one of my teeth. I pass out.

I feel my body lurch over; I am on my back now, my hands are no longer tied. Someone again throws water in my face – what is it with these idiots and water? “Stand, bitch!” a self-important guard-goon commands. You have a very prestigious visitor, and you had better show proper respect!”

I open my eyes. I am seeing things; Brellian is coming into focus. Two guard-goons pull me to my feet. “Bow to the Chief of Government!” some voice calls out from behind me, no doubt self-important guard-goon.

I spit at Brellian’s feet. A blow to the stomach again; I drop, they pull me back up.

“Well, well t’yaeli. We finally meet, and I’m sure the pleasure is all yours.” The bastard laughs and then continues. “You have caused my administration and me some major inconveniences, but that is of the past now.

I am sure you have thought of the day when you would stare down a defeated Brellian, and I am sorry that I cannot accommodate your dream. It truly is a pity.”

I see two guard-goons leave the room; left are Brellian, the two guard-goons holding me up, and of course, me.

“Rip off her clothing!” Brellian shouts. One guard-goon holds me up, another rips my shirt in two, right off of my body in one pull. He reaches for my shorts, ripping part of the material, but they do not sever. He pulls them down, and then pulls them from under me. I fall and slam my face on the floor. The guard-goons do what they do best, and pull me up again.

Brellian pulls my bra off over my head. The bastard is too weak to rip it in two, har! He does manage a rip with my underwear, as a result, my crotch stings.

“Now t’yaeli, you dyke… women are weak, and you find your attraction in women. That says much about you, I think.” This guy is sicker than I thought.

I manage to speak. “So you love men, Brellian? Well, I learned something today!” He slaps me across my face.

“There is nothing wrong with loving men, Brellian. As you say… I am a dyke, two men who are loving and caring and honourable…” he cuts off my words by slapping me again.

I persist. “It’s the ‘honourable’ part, right… you can’t possibly be such. And ooh… big brave Brellian has to have two guard-goons hold me so he can slap me without fear of retribution.” Whap!

Another tooth falls out. My mouth is badly bleeding. He drops his pants and steps out of them. I knew this was coming. “Ooh, a sadist and a rapist. You are a good one, Brellian! Of course, with that pathetic looking thing between your legs…” I am looking straight at his genitalia.

This time he does not slap. I feel his groin against me. He is pushing and he fails to enter me. He tries again and fails again. On the third try, he succeeds. He moves his mouth onto mine, his tongue finds its way into my swollen mouth; one hand is on one of my breasts.

He pulls his mouth away and I yell out “you have to have guard-goons hold me in order to rape me? Why, you *are* the big, bad, dude! Come on, Brellian… just you and me, tell the guard-goons of yours to get lost. Let’s see how much of a man you really are!”

I can see the wild rage in his eyes, but he does nothing in the moment. I can feel the unease of the two guard-goons holding me; my open defiance makes them nervous, no doubt wondering what will happen to them after I am dead.

“Leave her and leave the room at once!” Brellian orders the guard-goons. As an afterthought, “close all of the visual access to this room as well!” He does not wish them watching what he probably half-senses will be his failed attempt to rape me on his own.

They are gone. He looks at me wickedly. “Where were we, t’yaeli? Oh, yes. You believe you can mount a defence and make me look weak. I so do love sport!” The man is sick to the core.

He steps closer, reaching for my arms. I duck and grab his right arm, pulling him over me. He slams against the wall. He screams and spins up onto his feet in one motion, then lunges at me. I step aside and he hits his head on a chair. Brellian whirls around, his right forearm striking out at my face, and again I use his arm to send him over me, back into the wall. You would think he would tire of hitting that wall. He is dazed, but rises. He refuses to admit I am the stronger.

I have little strength left in me; I am running on the last of my adrenaline. My mind calls to Aailhra; my mind thinks of Jahrae. This, you bastard… is for her.

Brellian comes at me with what I sense is all of his remaining energy and strength, swinging his right elbow from just about straight in front of him, towards the side and at me. This time I do not go for his arm; I spin for better position; I strike out at his head with my left palm and break his nose. On the heels of this, my right leg swings upward like lightning; I nail him squarely in the balls. He drops; he is out. Out.

It is my little short-lived victory; yet a victory nonetheless. Even after my death, Brellian will have to live with the fact I beat the shit out of him when he raped me.

The guard-goons re-enter the room; they watched after all. I suspect their lives will end not long after mine. They stun me with some goon-device; my consciousness is lost.