Golden Storms | #Wattys2020

13. M E R R I M E N T

If he was this handsome, how beautiful were the woman of his tribe?

Ishtar looked away sadly. She would never be enough for a man like him. She didn't possess his goodness, his patience, his inward light. She was just a shallow nobleman's daughter, and nothing set her apart from other noblemen's daughters. They were all as bratty and spoilt as she was.

With a heavy heart Ishtar collected the now packed dress with a quiet thanks before walking away, the source of her low self esteem walking easily beside her.

"What is wrong?" Amaan asked after a while, glancing down at her.

"Nothing" Ishtar muttered, looking down at her feet as she walked.

"You do not like it?" He was confused.

Ishtar shook her head and gave him a small, sad smile. He blinked, taken away by those huge puppy eyes before they returned to focus on the ground.

A gaggle of villagers approached them then. They were all middle aged men who greeted Amaan and Ishtar warmly, then said something animatedly. Amaan nodded and responded with a smile, while Ishtar looked between them, waiting patiently for translation.

"What did they say?" She asked when they left.

"They kindly invited us to a wedding tonight" Amaan smiled, glad to see her sadness momentarily gone, "They want all of us to join. It is the union of two notorious mischief makers, and they expect a lot of celebrations tonight"

For some reason that made Ishtar laugh and for a moment Amaan let himself rejoice in the sound.

"I would love that" she murmured to herself, before diverting to join her family.

***

The sun set over the village, disappearing behind the mountain on which the caravan had spent many a night. It's golden - pink rays streamed through the various points in the landscape for as long as it could, until the night drew cover and the stars appeared.

The centre of the village was suddenly alight with torches, the flames burning brightly against the evening blue of the sky. Food was brought out in huge platters, steaming with dizzying aromas. The kids ran around screaming and laughing as they threw flower  petals around the place. Slowly the men and women filled the place, dressed in their best clothes to celebrate the event.

After praying Maghrib, Ishtar and her family and Amaan joined the gathering. The village was not practicing of the Muslim faith but of some pagan religion, so the gathering was fairly mixed and men and women danced merrily to music created by group of talented musicians.

Ishtar was delighted. She was dressed in the very dress she had brought, and had draped a matching shawl over her head prettily. She had brightened her lips with berries and lined the top of her eyes with kohl. It was nothing compared to what her maids could do for her back home, but she could make anything look lovely.

The bride and groom walked into the din, and the noise swelled. Ishtar smiles involuntarily when she saw them- she could immediately see why they were described as mischief makers. The girl's eyes were bright and twinkled with cheek, her smile tainted with the background of having done something she shouldn't. The groom looked equally as naughty, a boy barely older than Ishtar herself with elvish features.

They joined hands and moved merrily to the beats, laughing and making calls to their friends and families to join.

Her own family seated themselves down, taking care to enjoy rice and vegetable dishes rather than the meat. Even her father seemed to be in a good mood as he heartily enjoyed the first proper meal they'd had in days. Ishtar itched to join the women and girls dancing, her mind's eye thinking of how she had danced with Falaq in multiple occasions. But here there were plenty of males, and she knew it would not be appropriate.

Amaan was enjoying himself too. It had been a long time since he'd been a part of any celebrations. He missed the sound of laughter, he missed causes to be happy.

His gaze involuntarily flicked over to Ishtar. She had donned the dress he'd approved, and she looked lovely. The absence of the shimmer and shine made room to appreciate her beauty. He found himself unable to not glance at her from time to time, drinking in her happiness.

At one point a kindred lady approached the Taghridi women and grabbed Ishtar and her mother's wrists, dragging them into the dance laughing. They refused politely but she would have none of it, and others joined in insisting they join. Amaan watched with a strange feeling in his chest as Ishtar joined hands with another girl and began to dance, moving with a fashion that illustrated she had done this many a time before and with expertise that outshone the villagers. They began to watch her, cheering as she moved fluidly to the beat.

Amaan felt the sudden urge to drag her away from the scene. He didn't like the gaze of all the males, sweeping over her petite body, and yet he was doing the same. He clenched his fists, tightened his jaw, and forced his gaze away. But what he had seen was replaying itself in his mind, and his heart hammered wildly in his chest.

Ishtar had to stop herself after a while before she got dizzy. She was feeling giddy with merriment, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. She felt her esteem returning with the reaction of the villagers. She knew she could dance like no other woman, and she revelled in the attention.

She returned to her original spot, breathing heavily and smiling. Her father gave her a disapproving glare but she didn't mind- it was almost worth it. Some way away Amaan however, looked even angrier than her father. Her smile fell. What had she done? Before she could stop herself she had crossed the distance between them and planted herself firmly before him.

"What's wrong?" She asked, trying not to take his averted gaze to heart.

"Nothing" he growled.

"Did I really dance so badly?" She asked stupidly, voice faltering.

Finally his gaze returned to her, softening.

"You danced beautifully" he replied quietly.

With that he got up and walked away, leaving Ishtar gazing behind him even more confused than she'd been before.