The next morning Eleanor and I left the house early, leaving Chris to nurse his hangover alone. He wouldn't have been up anyway, so we - Eleanor - just left a note saying we were going out.
The sun was beating down. It was less than a ten minute walk over to the medina. Djema el-Fna. I had never been before, but I assumed Eleanor had.
I was a lot calmer than I was last night and just wanted to forget the whole thing. We weren't mad at each other or anything - but we hadn't spoken since we got out of the house. The walk so far was silent.
I turned to Eleanor. "Hey El..." I began.
"Yes, sweetheart?" She asked, turning to me.
"I don't think I ever asked you why you had a house in Morocco anyway. Is that a usual thing for you...buying property in foreign countries?"
"Oh, no", she scoffed. "I'm not that rich. Anyway, I didn't buy it." Eleanor paused. "It's my husband's place."
So, Eleanor is married. How could I have not known that?
"Well my ex husband." She continued.
"Oh." So she was divorced. I still didn't know that. She certainly didn't seem like it, but how does one seem divorced anyway?
"His family's Moroccan, but he was born in England and when we divorced, I asked for the house here. The home he did business from occasionally. Instead of...anyway, I said he could have our home back in Liverpool. He didn't want it, so it was sold. He left me the profit...which I didn't expect." She trailed off.
"You didn't want it?" I asked. "The one in England?"
"No, I... I wanted to get away. Plus the place here is old and they were gonna sell it so...So that's why I signed up to teach English here instead. A fresh start. We had travelled down here a bunch of times anyway. I knew my way around...for the most part."
"I had no idea you were married." I mused aloud.
"I don't usually tell people right away." Eleanor laughed. "It wasn't even that long ago. The divorced had only been finalized a few weeks before we met on the plane."
"Oh," I said. It made me think back on our meeting in a whole different way. Eleanor was recently divorced and about to permanently move to a new place. I originally thought of her as one of those annoying overly happy travellers, but all she wanted was the company of two strangers when she probably felt at her lowest. It made me feel worse than I already did about all the things I assumed about her. She just cares a lot.
When we arrived at the medina, it was just a bustle of commotion. It was crowded with a lot of tourists and locals. There were storytellers...People trying to get you to buy their henna tattoos, juice, spices, carpets, or jewelry. Eleanor and I continued to walk and look around. We hadn't yet decided to stop anywhere.
"So tell me more about this man, the one who let you stay the night," She said with a cheeky grin.
She had answered some my invasive questions. I guess it was only fair I answered her.
"Well, I was on my way home from the store," I began." ...But then I saw there was this man who was being attacked by a bunch of ...thugs." I didn't know what to call them. Isort of shrugged like it was no big deal.
We were interrupted by men came over to us with a bunch of hand-made jewellery adorning their hands. "Ladies you buy...you buy," One said gesturing to a necklace.
"No thank you. I'm sorry, but no thank you." Eleanor kept repeating. She brushed them off as politely as she could. Typical Eleanor. "You didn't intervene, did you?" She asked me, as we continued walking.
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The Fire in Your Veins (A Bane Fanfic)Fanfiction
Bane survives Selina's attack and is now living low-key in Africa. Natalie, an American currently living Morocco, returns a mask to an injured Bane. Unexpectedly she ends up staying with him and learns his story and that there is more to this man...