"Harakat," Riyad called out between the grapevines, walking toward the silver horse who lifted her head to lightly gnaw at the low hanging branches. Behind her, he saw the girl's back as she reached up to pluck another leaf from the vines. She lifted it to her nose and pulled in a deep breath of the fulfilling scent, her thumb tracing over the slight roughness of its spine. But her distraction ceased at the sound of her name.
She turned excitedly at Riyad's voice, her brow raised and eyes large in anticipation. Immediately, she placed the leaves into the bag around Ta'ira's neck and tugged the horse's reins. Riyad remained impressed at the bond she'd easily developed with his unforgiving mane, standing in his place as they moved toward him.
She smiled brightly when their eyes met. "You're back."
"Sorry I'm late," he peered down in awe at the way the orange rays of the evening sun danced across her honey-colored irises.
Harakat shook her head. "You're forgiven."
"What were you doing?" He motioned past her to the leaves she'd been placing in Ta'ira's pouch and ceased at his arrival. As if an unknown humor resided behind his words, the girl pulled her arms behind her back and dropped her head forward, keeping her eyes on his. Riyad raised his brow at the slyness of her expression. An involuntary laugh falling through his lips at her behavior. "What is it?"
The girl clapped her hand over her mouth with the exaggerated gesture, seeming to forget for a moment that she no longer needed to convey her meaning through her body. "I will not tell you," she replied. "Not yet."
"What is this?" His expression grew with exaggerated shock. "You think yourself too good for me now that you've regained your memory?"
She snorted then muffled the sound with her hand as if surprised that it had come out of her. "No. Not like that."
"Then what?" He asked.
Harakat shook her head again, this time with more evident determination. "Nothing... I have stumbled upon quite a piece of information about something," she glanced to the side suspiciously then laughed more. When Riyad narrowed his eyes at her, her smile grew more and she spun herself away from him. "Let's move from this topic. I no longer want to speak about it," she lifted her head to the sky dramatically.
A blister of competition sparked in his chest. Riyad's attention locked on the refusing girl as he followed her, his movements careful and calculated. He spoke daringly like a stalking predator. "I don't want to move, though."
"I have my right to privacy, Riyad," she continued on, leading Ta'ira back toward the camp without another glance in his direction.
"And I... have a right to know why my wife is sneaking around!" Riyad darted forward, swiping her hands from on Ta'ira's lead. Harakat squealed when he spun her in a quick circle, lifting her feet of the ground so she could not resist him.
She closed her eyes and gripped his shirt. "Riyad!"
"Tell me what you were doing!" He placed her down.
But the girl's confidence returned the moment her feet touched the ground and she slammed her hands into Riyad's chest. He flinched at her strength and placed his hand where she'd hit him. Harakat noticed, only then seeming to remember the bandage on his head. Her expression. "I'm sorry," she apologized quickly, then held his gaze for another moment to see the growing smirk on his features. Then she reached forward again and slapped his arm. "You should not have grabbed me like that!"
Riyad's hand shot up, clamping around her wrist.
This time, she flinched.
He leered dangerously. "You mean like this?"
Harakat tried to pry herself away but his grip was iron. "Riyad."
"You're not going to tell me?" He took another step closer.
"Riyad, don't!"
Her feet slipped against the ground when she tried to flee but his hold dragged her forward. "Only the truth will free you, Harakat," he turned her around as she resisted. Her back fell against his chest and Riyad's hand climbed to her abdomen, his other working hard to keep her still.
The girl screamed, kicking her feet against the ground as her laughter poured out of her chest. Her body thrashed and tried to push him back, needing an escape from the danger his amusement brought onto her senses. "Riyad, bas!" She dropped her head back onto his shoulder. Even as she used both of her hands to pull his arms away, his hold remained strong. "For God's sake, let me go! I'll tell you! I'll tell you!"
He paused his attacks for a moment, keeping his arms around her. "Khalas, it's bigger than that now!" And he began again.
She cried out in panicked laughter, her fingers desperately trying to peel him back. Then her back slammed against his chest and Riyad lost his footing. Harakat pulled herself out of his hold and fell forward, crashing into the ground hard enough to make Ta'ira step back.
Silence.
Riyad's heart jerked. He'd killed her.
"Harakat?" He said but received no response back. Instead, he only saw her back shake as if she was struggling to breathe. Her arms lifted out from beneath her, trying to hold her body. Riyad raced around to her side. "Harakat, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" He asked, trying to help her.
But the girl shoved him back. Riyad caught himself on his arms, his eyes wide as he watched her lift herself up. Her eyes closed and her expression contorted. Harakat flipped herself onto her back while gripping her stomach. She gasped so roughly just the sound of it made him freeze, then she threw her head back and laughed. All his worry ceased.
She kicked her feet into the ground and cackled to the sky, her cheeks flushed and her body shaking with the strength of her amusement. Riyad found himself beginning to glower at the girl as she pointed her index finger at him and laughed more. "You were so scared!" She gasped.
Riyad sighed. His relief led him to the dried leaves beneath him and his annoyance threw them at the overly entertained girl. "May God not forgive you," he huffed.
His words only pushed her laughter further as she rolled onto her side and peered up at him. Even then, Riyad hated to admit how much more alluring he found the girl to be. Gradually, her cackles calmed to chuckles and her chuckles dissipated. "Were you worried?" She nudged his ankle.
"I'm glad you found my worry amusing," he deadpanned.
She grinned at the bother in his tone and sat up, shuffling closer to the boy who would never move away from her. No matter how annoyed or angered he might become with her, Riyad always sought a smaller space between them. Now, he only watched her crawl nearer. "Don't worry for me. I'm stronger than I look, you know," she pointed out.
It took a great effort for Riyad to not relate her words to the scars on her body and the stories she'd bestowed upon them the day before. She was referring to what just happened, not everything else. "I know."
Harakat placed her hand on his lifted knee, dropping her temple against it to peer at him. "Are you not going to tell me then?" She asked and he raised his eyebrow in question. "Did you find my family?"
With everything that had just happened, Riyad had nearly forgotten where he'd just come from. The reminder brought with it the image of her brother's similarly piercing eyes and sharpened features. Piece by piece, the girl was putting together the story that brought her to him and the identity she carried. Piece by piece, she was becoming whole right in front of him. When she nudged him, Riyad hummed.
"I found them," he nodded.
Her lips parted, letting her smile grow before him. Still, she said nothing and awaited his elaboration of what he'd found.
Riyad continued. "I met your younger brother first, Amjad. He has a bit of a long tongue," he murmured and Harakat chuckled, nodding along as if she was already aware of the fact. "Then a woman opened the door for me... your brother's wife, I think?"
Harakat hiccupped. She lifted her head off his knee and knit her brows hopefully. "Amani?" She asked, but Riyad could only nod. "What about Muhsin? Or my mother? Did you see my mother?
"I did not see your mother, but there was a child."
"A child?" She gasped. "Who's child?"
Unconsciously, Riyad found himself lowering his own head as she leaned closer to him eagerly. The corners of his lips lifted at the size of her curious eyes. Harakat did not seem to notice how close she came to him, too focused on her search for an answer. Riyad was tempted to keep the answer to himself for a few moments longer so she would remain in her proximity, but the sweetness of her pleading eyes abused him. "Well... Muhsin was the one carrying her so-," her hands flew to her cheeks. "-I assume she was his."
Happiness swelled onto her expression, raising the inner corners of her brows and tugging her lips down in an emotional simper. "Muhsin has a daughter, now? What a beautiful blessing!" She breathed, the built tension easing out of her shoulders. "How did Muhsin look? Did he look healthy?"
Riyad nodded.
"Alhamdullilah! Did you give him my letter to read?"
Another nod. This one with a growing smile on Riyad's lips.
"What did he think? Was he angry with me?"
When he saw the momentary despair fleet over the life in Harakat's eyes, Riyad found himself eager to quickly rid her of the smallest hints of it. "No," he shook his head. "He was happy. He said he will come in two days, just as you told him. Shoo rayek?"
Harakat beamed, rising onto her knees and taking Riyad's face lightly in her hands. "What do I think? I'm overjoyed, Riyad! My family is well and you've brought this news to me. May God preserve and protect you for me, always. I truly don't know what I ever would have done without you!"
Riyad smiled at the purity of her expression but offered no words in response. He saw the realization of her words and the way she'd brought herself over him sink in after a few heartbeats. Though the happiness remained illuminating her features, a new nervousness was introduced into the subtle pattern of her breathing.
When she began pulling her hands away, Riyad caught them between his and kept her close to him. "Harakat." He whispered lightly then found a deeper desire within himself to speak to more than just Harakat. "Fayza."
She blinked at the sound of her own name, spoken from someone else, bringing her back to the person she had been before her entire life had become erased from her mind. She hummed in response.
"When your brother comes," he began slowly. "What do you think if we rewrite our marriage papers? We'll do it the right way this time."
Harakat's gaze dipped to his mouth as if absorbing the question. Then she slowly nodded, the outer corners of her eyes crinkling with the subtlety of a shy smile. "I'd like that," she replied.
Riyad nodded, lowering his gaze to her hands between his. "I'll get you a nicer ring thing time," he promised.
She shifted to sit back beside him, her arm lifting onto his knees to support her leaning posture. "You know, I've always wanted a wedding with my family and the people of my town. I'm the life of the party."
"Then let's have a wedding after everything settles."
"Wa'ed?" She lifted her pinky finger toward him.
Riyad glanced down at the gesture before lifting his hand to hers, their fingers interlocking between them. "Wa'ed, by God's will."
Harakat's attention remained on their contact for a few moments longer, a thoughtful expression deepening her features while she made no attempt to pull herself away from him. Riyad watched a subtle pout begin forming on her lips. He'd watched her silence long enough to know what it would bring. "What do you want to ask?" He asked.
She lifted her gaze to him, pressing her lips together in determination. "Why is it that you know all about me and now you've met my family, but I still know nothing about you?" She questioned. "All I know is that you are Riyad Mousa of The Resistance."
Riyad tilted his head slightly in the same direction she dropped hers out of curiosity, his brows lifting at their inner corners in adoration. "My story is not worth learning," he spoke delicately into the space between them. "For now, I do not want you to know it."
Harakat frowned. "Lesh?" She asked. Why?
"So that we may enjoy the sweet ending of yours."
The girl's brows knit and the other question that began forming itself on her tongue was interrupted by a distant shout. Riyad's gaze moved past her and Harakat turned as the cry traveled through the vines, louder than the rustling of the leaves. Riyad pushed himself off the ground, helping Harakat up after him just the boy found them beside their standing horse. He took Ta'ira's reins and began quickly back to camp at the familiarity of the call.
When they arrived near the tents, Riyad's eyes found nobody except the young boy sitting beside the second tent with his face buried in his arms. Harakat took Ta'ira's reins and urged him on. Leaving them a few steps behind, Riyad jogged to Amer.
"Amer!" He exclaimed, stopping beside him and lowering himself onto the ground beside the boy. "Was that you shouting? Shoo malak?" He asked, placing his hand on Amer's shoulder and shaking him.
The boy only shook his head, a shuddering breath running through his body and drawing more concern from Riyad. Behind them, Harakat neared with Ta'ira but remained a distance away. Her expression had clouded in worry at the sudden outbreak from the boy who normally occupied himself with his phone while offering snarky retorts to whoever bothered him.
Riyad shook him again. "What is the matter with you?" He asked, his tone firmer this time in demanding a response.
Amer lifted his head and Riyad's frown deepened at the sight of the boy. Red-nosed and teary-eyed, he could do nothing but sniffle the tears that raced down his cheeks. "They turned him over," he gasped.
"Turned who?"
"Hamza," Amer cried more, planting his hand onto his eyes but struggling through the remainder of his words so Riyad would understand. "They turned his body over for burial. Farhan identified him at the hospital. They killed him, those dogs!" He broke into another fit of sobs, dropping his head into his arms this time. His grieving bellow cracked weakly even when he tried to muffle it, his tears wetting the earth beneath him.
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Ramadan Mubarak, Ramadan Kareem. ☪️