Desert Vacation - Yarti/Snakestone/Fanar-Child/Fannah-Child

Dreadful sandstorms. Our carriage ride ended right in the midst of one. Thankfully the city gates provided some shelter and the storm resided as quickly as it had formed. It was warm out, dry, somewhat hard to breath. But that was expected, the culture and sights would make it worth it. After the storm cleared, we walked back to the front gate and peered out into the desert. The storm concealed had many features dotting the landscape. Massive spires of stone, countless little ruins, sparse trees and the occasional hint of movement on the horizon. Desert animals, I assume. Whatever those might be.

It quickly became obvious that I had overthought our attire. I had been holding onto desert wear for years and years, just waiting for another trip to the region so I could put them to use. I brought along a satchel full of clothes just for the occasion.  I suppose my idea of desert wear was based on things I had seen in books. Yet the people here dress much in much simpler styles, not much different from the clothing back home aside from the occasional headwrap or exposed midriff. The more interesting outfits were seemingly reserved for the vile harlots found on nearly every street corner. Dancing, shaking their hips at Snake as we pass. Wearing little more than a bikini and lace. Snake had to hold me back.

Night soon fell and with it the desert came alive with the sounds of wildlife. Foreign howls and bellows. We retreated to our rented room for the night. A tiny little hut. No fireplace and thin walls. I showed him how that dancing should be done. Those women couldn’t compare. It grew cold but we were able to stay warm well into the morning. Exhausted, resting against his chest, I thought about the previous week.

Another year, another honeymoon in Helsmyrr behind us, we dropped the kids off at home. Certainly a memorable week for them. We enjoyed a day together at home. Resting mostly. Made it a special day for the kids. The next morning was dedicated to making our arrangements, settling provisions. We lined up caretakers for a full month should we be gone that long. I felt that the kids could use a few days without our ever watchful eyes. They need time to find themselves and build character. Varen is supposed to stop by for a few days to give them some lessons toward the end of the vacation. Perhaps he’ll still be there when we arrive. The plan was to take a hasty carriage ride down to Falkreath, where we would hire another carriage to carry us through valley and into Hammerfell. A straight line to Tigonus City at the edge of the Alik’r Desert. We would spend 3 days and nights in town, then ride north to the coast for another 3 days at the beach, then the return trip home. Far more time spent in the back of a carriage than spent actually enjoying ourselves in these foreign lands, but we would surely find ways to pass the time. It would be a good vacation.

We finally fell asleep in the nearing hours of the morning. Waking near mid day to the sound of music. I dressed Snake in his clothes of the previous day and picked out a new outfit for myself. Closer to the garb of those dancers on the corner, though I do wear it much better.

The booming instruments were louder outside of the hut. The walls must have been thicker than I had thought. We first visited a few shops, leaving the lively sounds behind. Breakfast at the inn went well. Then we tasted some foreign candies at a stall nearby. The kids would probably love some, but I was unsure if they would stay fresh. A clothing vender caught my eye. Though really they had nothing better than what I sew myself at home. Empty handed, we returned to the main plaza and the welcoming music.

Out came the dancing girls, moving in tune with the band. Disgusting. Their exposed bellies wiggling at the crowd. I gave them some nasty glares before being stuck with an idea. I stood, taking Snake by the hand. I pulled him to the center of the sitting area and lifted his hand. Bowing to him with a wide smile. He gave me questioning looks, whispering “What are you doing?” but my smile could not be parted to speak. I twirled away from him, still holding his hand. Arched my back, lifted a leg, then wound back to him, an unstoppable giggle as he caught me. We continued on, letting things happen as they pleased. At one point I stood in front of him, lifting myself up on my tiptoes. The sun beaming down on me as he kissed up and down my arm. Our movements mirrored the music, swelling to a climax. We ignored the rest of the town. The world was gone. It was the two of us and the beautiful music. One last unwinding, he clasped my left hand between his palms as I lifted my right arm and pointed at him. We lingered for some time then rolled back together, Snake coming to rest on one knee, his hands on my hips. A thumb looped beneath my belt, tugging up at it as though he intended to rip it from me. My hands came to rest upon his sweaty face. The music ended and the adulterers shuffled away. In shame probably. They couldn’t compete. Hopefully they rethink their outfits and try something more modest next time. It would be best for everyone.

Snake sat down with a heavy thump, crossing his arms behind his head and letting out a contented sigh as I cuddled up beside him.

We stayed indoors for the rest of the day, spent from the dancing and the result. It was a good night, a bit warmer than the previous. Though I knew not whether we had ourselves to thank for that or the weather. The sandstorm picked up again in the morning, coming and going throughout the day. Leaving a light dust on the streets and benches, just enough to feel the grain beneath my sandals as we walked.

The dancers were out again, disgracing the street with their antics. We left them to visit the shops once more. Hoping to find some souvenir to take back home, anything interesting or foreign. With some time, we found just that. An exotic snakeskin jacket. Shimmering scales down both sides and the back, fastened to a fine woven cloth. I picked out a rugged bear cloak to match it and tugged him out into the sunlight so I could admire him. The fit wasn’t perfect, it was a little too large for Snake’s frame, but his belt helped. Perhaps we would find a way to make it work once we got back home, but for now he would bare with it until our next change of clothes.

That concluded our final day in town. In the evening we made our last trek through the streets. Past the dancing vermin one last time. I held my tongue again, content with just giving them a stern glare. They weren’t worth the effort. At the front gate I leapt onto Snake’s shoulders, planting a kiss on his cheek, caressing his stubbled jaw. Taking his hand into mine as we stepped under the arch. The sandstorm started again as we approached the carriage. As if it were waving goodbye to us. Another long carriage ride awaited. A day’s passage northeast to the coast.

I stood, gazing out into the sands, shielding my eyes from the storm as best I could. Hoping to see more of those features that we had missed on the previous ride. Yet it was relentless. Disappointed, I found my faithful resting place, across Snake’s chest, his arms strewn around my shoulders and waist. With a contented sigh, my thoughts turned to the kids. We had been gone six days now, I wondered how they had managed without us. If they had been good. If they had learned anything new. More importantly, if they were safe and well fed. I considered asking the driver to turn eastward once we found the road, but Snake’s loving arms carried me to sleep before the sands were even out of sight. I awoke to seagulls, crashing waves, and his gentle face peering down at me.

Waves flowing in and out. Brushing the sand toward us then pulling it away. I always loved beaches. It gives me a chance to try out all of these skimpier outfits that I had collected over the years. This outfit in particular though, I was unsure of. The thong was a little too revealing in the front. Thankfully the beach was empty, only Snake around to witness my delicate hair hanging over the brim. The warmer weather is usually refreshing. Laying on my stomach, enjoying a tiny bit of warmth raining down onto my back. Snake beside me, shirtless, sweat beading and trailing down his body. Occasionally hearing his quiet breath, barely audible amidst the waves. Feeling the sand give way beneath us as our weights combine.

After enjoying ourselves on the shore for a few hours, we finally moved into the water. I found it cold, nearly as cold as the ponds back home. I thought the waters would be warm here, filled with foreign fish and plants, yet it was just more of the same. We had our enjoyment, frolicking in the tide for some time. Climbing onto his back and showering him in kisses as we sunk below the water line. At last deciding to go back ashore for a relaxing walk through the grounds. On my back, feet against Snake’s arms. He gripped my right foot, brushing sand from the underside, forcing a giggle from my lips.

The sky soon grew overcast, but I had brought this umbrella and had no intention of letting it sit idle. Atop my shoulder it went. I carried it proudly, perhaps drawing laughter if there had been anyone else on the beach. A Dunmer in Hammerfell, carrying an umbrella, on a cool, cloudy day. I found it amusing anyway.

The first distant thunderclap signaled us to move inland. An old temple stood just off the shore. The perfect place to ride out the storm.

One last moment here. A watchful statue overhead. We shared this final moment before the end. One last embrace in this place before returning home. Both of our heads filled with thoughts of that home, past and future. Plans for the coming years, some that would certainly fall flat, others that could soar. Things and memories to come or perhaps not come. Feeling his chest press against me with each breath. The same as it had always been. His scent, the hair of his chin, that same breath kissing my scalp. Unchanged by the long years. More refreshing than those rare breezes in the desert. The things that could never be taken from me. Sovngarde will pale in comparison to what we have now and have had. A moment I wished would never end. The carriage driver bellowed in the distance, pointing to the nearing clouds and then to us. Taking his hand, we trudged  over one last sandy embankment, leaving that watchful statue on the shore.

It drew to a close as uneventfully as it had begun. The return trip across Hammerfell was much like the last. Carriage rides here are like life. Bumpy, hot, plagued by bad weather and frequent stops, with infrequent bouts of true happiness and good nights sprinkled within. You cherish the good times, as rare as they might be, for they help you endure the painful times. Another week passed before we found ourselves at the border. One last tired carriage ride, from Falkreath to Whiterun. To home. We could see them on the horizon. Friends and family gathered at the foot of Mara, as if they had sensed our return. The kids in the midst of a lesson perhaps? We met with wide open arms and joyful tears. A watchful statue overhead.