rereading old Arabian fantasy
On this reread, I was reminded how darn enjoyable Auda ibn Jad is. Evil, yes, but terribly amusingly so. Also, oh 1990, when you could just write fantasy Islam evil-jihads and not mean anything political by it. On the other hand, it made me sad, if minorly so, to try to sketch out the twenty-sided jewel of Sul and realized it was physically impossible to reconcile how the axes are supposed to work with the three domains of the gods who ever had theirs given. Clearly they were just assigned as narratively convenient, not by anyone actually folding some paper into a model. Not to mention Promenthas and Evren had the same three, which is a straight error.
There are all of two Rose of the Prophet fics on AooO. I love both of them.
Title: Last Night
Author/Artist: purplekitten
Fandom: Rose of the Prophet by Weis and Hickmann
Rating: PG-13
Pairing or Character(s): Mathew/Auda ibn Jad, off-screen one-sided Mathew/Khardan, one-sided ibn Jad/Zohra, tsundere Khardan/Zohra
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, I swear, I would have noticed.
Warnings: polygamy, crossdressing
Author's Note: This story fades to black not very far in. Let me establish this in advance, because the ending's very cop-out if a reader has any expectations.
Even as a guest, being in the tent of women was a killing offense, for where a woman slept was harem, forbidden. But it was Khardan’s wives’ tent and Auda iba Jad had done much worse.
Mathew would have told him Zohra wasn’t there, but he could smell her perfume on him even over the reek of goat. Auda’s usually emotionless face had a small smile on it. Had Zohra given in to him? He couldn’t be sure, but his instincts told him the smile was one of good humor in defeat.
“A virtuous woman is worth all the water in the desert.” Auda dropped to the cushion beside Mathew gracefully.
“It’s obvious to everyone but them how in love they are with each other.”
“The question is, while you may love your husband,” Mathew blushed, “Are you so cold as to deny a doomed man a final pleasure?”
Ibn Jad’s incessant flirting had in no way lightened since he had discovered his former captive’s true sex. Of course, his first comment had been that he could have sold him for even more as a pretty boy in the right markets.
“You might have forgotten, but I can’t bear you sons.”
“A shame, Blossom, but I ask merely as a man seeking warmth at his side and I do not think my brother would be so accommodating even if he will not go to his first wife’s tent.”
Unlike these nomads, Promenthas’s people had no aversion to love between those of the same sex, but Mathew certainly did not love ibn Jad. The man was evil and only happened to be on their side from similarity of goals and honor to pledges given to his god.
Auda brushed a strand of red hair from his eyes and Mathew felt momentarily naked without his veil. “So, Blossom, you are Khardan’s woman, but will you be a woman for me?” He usually looked to be carved from the same stone as Castle Zhakrin, but he was warm against the desert night as he leaned against Mathew.
“You might be aware that these people might allow a man many wives, but only a widow might marry another husband.”
“They are neither your people nor mine. And you already know my brother would not stand between me and his other unconsummated wife.”
He shivered and his body would have naturally drawn closer, if he didn’t keep reminding himself ibn Jad was as much ghoul as human. No, that was a comforting lie. Much of that which was human was not what his people called humane. “Lust is a sin. I didn’t think it was yours.”
“I like them all.” Auda’s eyes were laughing at him.
It wasn’t true either. Mathew had seen in the dark paladin a strength of faith he’d never seen the like of and an unwavering loyalty to his people and oaths make in the name of his god.
“What I want is fine sons and strong daughters to live after me. That is not a matter of lust. This is.”
Mathew wavered, unsure why he was doing so at all. Was he so scared to die, having faced it so many times? Once he would have considered this a demonic temptation, but now it seemed to hardly have to do with his faith, let alone test it.
“Scorn me and I’ll be gone in a moment,” Auda said and Mathew believed him, though his dark eyes were dilated with arousal.
He felt a shift in the man’s weight, but was unsure if it was towards or away from him. It would be a coward’s way to avoid responsibility to say nothing and let whatever happened happen. He couldn’t bring himself to say yes, and couldn’t think of a reason to not say no.
His fingers caught on the rough material of the sleeve of his burnouse. “Don’t go.”
Mathew was pulled against a strong chest, felt warm breath in his ear. Was this how it would be with Khardan? But no, he shouldn’t think of Khardan, felt ashamed of thinking of him that way. Still, the waves of shame at what he was doing paled compared to the need to take comfort from another human being.
*
Even now in the desert, far from where the dynasty of Achmed rules from Kich, some times there will be a man who declared himself a woman or a woman who declares herself a man, like the Mad Prophet. They are mad, of course, but they are given the full rights and responsibilities of a woman or a man under Akhran, in the Marabout’s name.
And there are those that the desert cannot contain. Some go to the softness of the city or for the glory and loot of the imperial army, but then there are those ones that cross the Sun’s Anvil, as was once done, and come to the Kurdin Sea. These are the sons and daughters of Auda ibn Jad, and they are great and terrible and know the hearts of men.
There are all of two Rose of the Prophet fics on AooO. I love both of them.
Title: Last Night
Author/Artist: purplekitten
Fandom: Rose of the Prophet by Weis and Hickmann
Rating: PG-13
Pairing or Character(s): Mathew/Auda ibn Jad, off-screen one-sided Mathew/Khardan, one-sided ibn Jad/Zohra, tsundere Khardan/Zohra
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, I swear, I would have noticed.
Warnings: polygamy, crossdressing
Author's Note: This story fades to black not very far in. Let me establish this in advance, because the ending's very cop-out if a reader has any expectations.
Even as a guest, being in the tent of women was a killing offense, for where a woman slept was harem, forbidden. But it was Khardan’s wives’ tent and Auda iba Jad had done much worse.
Mathew would have told him Zohra wasn’t there, but he could smell her perfume on him even over the reek of goat. Auda’s usually emotionless face had a small smile on it. Had Zohra given in to him? He couldn’t be sure, but his instincts told him the smile was one of good humor in defeat.
“A virtuous woman is worth all the water in the desert.” Auda dropped to the cushion beside Mathew gracefully.
“It’s obvious to everyone but them how in love they are with each other.”
“The question is, while you may love your husband,” Mathew blushed, “Are you so cold as to deny a doomed man a final pleasure?”
Ibn Jad’s incessant flirting had in no way lightened since he had discovered his former captive’s true sex. Of course, his first comment had been that he could have sold him for even more as a pretty boy in the right markets.
“You might have forgotten, but I can’t bear you sons.”
“A shame, Blossom, but I ask merely as a man seeking warmth at his side and I do not think my brother would be so accommodating even if he will not go to his first wife’s tent.”
Unlike these nomads, Promenthas’s people had no aversion to love between those of the same sex, but Mathew certainly did not love ibn Jad. The man was evil and only happened to be on their side from similarity of goals and honor to pledges given to his god.
Auda brushed a strand of red hair from his eyes and Mathew felt momentarily naked without his veil. “So, Blossom, you are Khardan’s woman, but will you be a woman for me?” He usually looked to be carved from the same stone as Castle Zhakrin, but he was warm against the desert night as he leaned against Mathew.
“You might be aware that these people might allow a man many wives, but only a widow might marry another husband.”
“They are neither your people nor mine. And you already know my brother would not stand between me and his other unconsummated wife.”
He shivered and his body would have naturally drawn closer, if he didn’t keep reminding himself ibn Jad was as much ghoul as human. No, that was a comforting lie. Much of that which was human was not what his people called humane. “Lust is a sin. I didn’t think it was yours.”
“I like them all.” Auda’s eyes were laughing at him.
It wasn’t true either. Mathew had seen in the dark paladin a strength of faith he’d never seen the like of and an unwavering loyalty to his people and oaths make in the name of his god.
“What I want is fine sons and strong daughters to live after me. That is not a matter of lust. This is.”
Mathew wavered, unsure why he was doing so at all. Was he so scared to die, having faced it so many times? Once he would have considered this a demonic temptation, but now it seemed to hardly have to do with his faith, let alone test it.
“Scorn me and I’ll be gone in a moment,” Auda said and Mathew believed him, though his dark eyes were dilated with arousal.
He felt a shift in the man’s weight, but was unsure if it was towards or away from him. It would be a coward’s way to avoid responsibility to say nothing and let whatever happened happen. He couldn’t bring himself to say yes, and couldn’t think of a reason to not say no.
His fingers caught on the rough material of the sleeve of his burnouse. “Don’t go.”
Mathew was pulled against a strong chest, felt warm breath in his ear. Was this how it would be with Khardan? But no, he shouldn’t think of Khardan, felt ashamed of thinking of him that way. Still, the waves of shame at what he was doing paled compared to the need to take comfort from another human being.
*
Even now in the desert, far from where the dynasty of Achmed rules from Kich, some times there will be a man who declared himself a woman or a woman who declares herself a man, like the Mad Prophet. They are mad, of course, but they are given the full rights and responsibilities of a woman or a man under Akhran, in the Marabout’s name.
And there are those that the desert cannot contain. Some go to the softness of the city or for the glory and loot of the imperial army, but then there are those ones that cross the Sun’s Anvil, as was once done, and come to the Kurdin Sea. These are the sons and daughters of Auda ibn Jad, and they are great and terrible and know the hearts of men.