12 comments/ 24824 views/ 16 favorites Beneath the Stars Ch. 01 By: TheFairScribe Maybe it was the sound of wind rustling the tall grass. Or perhaps the heat of a late morning sun. It burned so warm and bright that Elaine could no longer will herself back into that strange, deep dreamless sleep. Soon, all these elements combined to draw her back to the world of the waking. It was then that she suddenly jolted with alarm and the realization that she was far from the bed she had laid in mere hours before. No, instead she was outdoors, laying in a field of high grass. Had she been sleepwalking again only to find herself in her neighbor's pasture? She stood on shaking legs and despite the warmth of the day, a chill shot through her as she surveyed the land and saw she was in the middle of a vast, rolling prairie. This clearly wasn't Georgia. She looked down and scanned her body for signs of injury or struggle, wondering if perhaps she had been kidnapped, raped, then carried and dumped far from home. But her thin silk slip showed no damage, her was skin pristine, and her was body free of pain or injury. The relief was short-lived as she registered that she was far from home with no cell phone, no shoes, no money, and no sign of humanity in sight. Until suddenly, it appeared there was. In the distance Elaine could just make out what appeared to be a group of people on horseback drawing nearer by the moment. As they came within sight, she saw they were men, six or so in number, trailing 3 riderless horses behind them. Salvation. She shouted and flailed her arms and in the distance she could see as one of the men raised his hand to the others before riding ahead to meet her. As he came closer Elaine saw that the man was dressed as an American Indian might have 140 years prior – nay, the man WAS an Indian and his face bore something akin to confusion or concern as Elaine came more clearly into sight. Why,Red Grouse mused, would a near-naked wasicun winyan call to him? Was she holy or simply mad? She was certainly unusual. She stood and looked at him directly as he approached, showing no fear. Her skin was glowing white in the sun but her hair was long, straight, and night black. She looked young and her finely sculpted face bore the broad plains of cheekbones and a jawline he would expect to find among his own women. She was unusually beautiful for a wasicu. And unusually bold. Elaine couldn't have been more perplexed, was she on the set of a film? In the midst of a reenactment? When she greeted the man in English he responded in a tongue that sounded like the languages she had heard in films and documentaries about Indian peoples, a field she had studied with rapt fascination since childhood and later delved into more extensively in college. She had always wondered about these people the history books had simplified, maligned, or neglected and whose blood she had been rumored to share along with her motley European ancestry. Listening more carefully, she realized that the words he spoke were Lakota Sioux, for she recognized them from her short-lived pursuit of learning a little of the melodic tongue herself. The more he spoke, the more it became clear to her, however unlikely it seemed in this day and age, that the man didn't understand a lick of English. She was at a loss, she knew so few words and most were useless in this situation. "Han," she said. "Yes." She didn't know how to ask for help so instead she gestured with her fingers to her open mouth, indicating hunger, hoping the man might bring her back to civilization where she might find someone who understood her and could get her home. It worked. Extending a deep bronze arm, the man hoisted Elaine onto the back of his paint. As soon as she settled behind him and clasped her hands to his waist she was hit with the overwhelming odor of smoke, sweat, and animal grease. It wasn't altogether horrible, but it was strong. Moreover, it wasn't a smell she had ever encountered. She was reminded of a passage she had once read in a book regarding the clash of the invaders and the Lakota – something about how the Indians had a smell that when the wind was blowing right, whites could detect a mile off. The smell was repugnant to them. It was of grease and buffalo chip fire. No modern person, Indian or otherwise, she had ever met had that smell, and suddenly, Elaine was gripped with the unthinkable. As they trotted toward the other men her eyes frantically scanned her savior for anything modern – plastic parts, synthetic materials, bright artificial dyes. But she found none. His waist-length braids were entwined with ermine and tied off with sinew. The feathers in his hair were natural and undyed. The leather clout he wore had rough patches and irregular color and it appeared to have been tanned by hand. His arrows, his bow, and his Winchester rifle all looked like museum artifacts. At last, when they reached the other men, they called to each other fluently in Lakota and none let on it was a ruse. No one broke into a smile and told her in English it was all a joke. Elaine then realized that she wasn't in the 21st Century at all, and for the first time in her life she swooned and swayed back, caught just before she slid off the paint and her world went black. When she came to, her savior had propped her up against a cottonwood by a stream and was thrusting something that smelled of meat and dried fruit beneath her nose. Pemmican. She took the proffered bite, said thanks in Lakota, and looked around at her hosts as they watered the horses. The group of men were, for the most part, tall and lean. A few wore leggings, but most were clad only in a clout. Some had long loose hair, the others wore braids. Some had feathers tied in their hair, others had none. They appeared lightly armed, though two carried coup sticks. Too small for a war party, perhaps a raid? That would explain the excess ponies and lack of bodies. The leader, her rescuer, was an attractive man. Perhaps 6 feet tall with a dark, finely boned face. He was lean like the rest, but clearly sinewy and strong. Likely in his mid-40's, though it was hard to tell. He seemed friendly, sitting back on his haunches he smiled broadly as she ate, revealing a row of unexpectedly healthy, if somewhat imperfect, teeth. Elaine was educated enough to know that the Lakota took hospitality as seriously as they did warfare, and clearly she was being treated as a guest and not a captive, for her hands were unbound and the words the man spoke were gentle and inquisitive. She couldn't understand him, but she liked his manner and she smiled in turn. The others soon gathered about her and began asking many curious things she could not understand. She only shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, smiling. The men offered water from buffalo bladders and some reached out to touch her hair and the fabric of her slip. Only one man did not approach her. He stood away from the rest, at least 20 paces down by the river, watering his horse and watching her with suspicion. He was smaller than the leader, though still taller than her 5'5" by several inches. He had a slight but fit build and his hair hung loose to his waist. His eyes tilted slightly upward at the corners like a cat and like the other Lakota, his cheekbones and jawline were well-defined and his lips lush and full. He was somewhere between handsome and pretty, with red-brown skin marred only by a few scars. Warrior's scars, but others, too. Scars like lash marks across the lean muscles of his back. And, unlike the others, his face was serious and hard to read. He frightened her. Looks Far had seen enough wasicus and had learned enough of their treachery to last a lifetime. As a child just on the verge of manhood his family had been massacred and he had been taken prisoner, forced into a frontier mission school where his hair was cut and his language forbidden, beaten with a cane every time he uttered the words or resisted their instruction which sought to rub out the Lakota he was. At 16 winters he fled in the night and rode for days to seek out his people, the Oglala, in their summer place by the river that turned like a snake. Red Grouse, one of their great men, had taken the boy in as a son to replace the one he lost to the white man's sickness the autumn before. He dubbed the young man Looks Far because his eyes were always searching the distance, wary of what lie beyond the horizon. Now, 12 years on, he watched as this strange wasicun winyan ate their food, smiled to their faces, and mounted one of their fine ponies to ride beside Red Grouse. No wasicu, man or woman, would have behaved as she. They came in two varieties he had seen: fearful or cruel. Her manner was surely a ruse, a trick he had not seen before. Red Grouse was too trusting, too kind, and Looks Far feared that for all his wisdom, he did not understand the ways of the wasicu. As Elaine rode, gripping the pony with sweating thighs long removed from her childhood dressage instruction, she turned back slightly to see the strange, wary man trailing back from the rest, his thousand-yard stare fixed just part her. Facing forward once more she saw a haze of smoke in the distance and could make out the outlines of the tall lodges of the people. Once more, the realization struck anew that she was out of time entirely, though she did not know how it came to be. But Elaine didn't waste time fretting; she was acutely aware of the alien environment and was running in pure survival mode. Be friendly, be calm, be courageous and stay alive. Past the discarded heaps of bone and animal skin they rode into camp where women and children rushed to greet the party, shouting words and trilling their calls. Within a few moments, Elaine had become the star attraction. Women and children crushed around her, touching every part of her hair and dress. At the leader's behest, an older woman pushed forward and gently led Elaine into a lodge where she was implored to sit. The woman gestured quickly that Elaine remove her dress. Unsure, she obeyed nevertheless and seeing this, the woman appeared pleased and left the lodge. Just as Elaine was beginning to grow nervous, the woman reemerged with a dress and moccasins and offered them to Elaine who was grateful to accept. Clearly, her thin nightdress had been too indecent for the conservative Lakota. "Waste," the woman declared before leaving once more. Alone Elaine sat within the lodge, though outside she could hear male voices rising in anger. Red Grouse burst through the opening of the lodge, looking somewhat ruffled but his friendly smile came quickly as he took his place on the robes. Behind him trailed two women. Red Grouse lit a pipe and they all sat, waiting in awkward silence. Then, after a short time, the wary man who had been in the party entered the tent and took his place at the elder's side between Elaine and Red Grouse. Her eyes widened in shock as the young man with the catlike eyes spoke the words: "My father welcomes you to his lodge." His voice was emotionless but he spoke in perfect, albeit accented, English. He never looked at her directly, for he sat some distance to her side, keeping his profile to her as he spoke. Red Grouse began to speak and Looks Far begrudgingly translated: "Red Grouse, my father, wishes to know how you came to be alone in the tall grass?" "I don't know, I cannot remember, I fear I am lost and have no relations anywhere near," she responded. "What about the soldier fort – Robinson, they call it? Is that where you have come from?" "No, I mean I don't believe so. One moment I was sleeping in my bed and the next I awoke outside. That was how your party found me." Looks Far nearly scoffed, and he had to force himself not to turn and look at her in disbelief. Surely she could think of better lies than this feigned ignorance. Red Grouse spoke with concern now and Looks Far translated: "My father wishes to know if you would like to be taken to the soldier fort." "No, please don't. I know no one there and I fear for my safety among strangers." Looks Far was shocked. A wasicu fearful of her own kind? It was unthinkable. Then his mind began to reel, what if she had been cast out? What wickedness was so great for those at the fort that they cast this woman to spread her poison among the plains? From the corner of his eye he regarded her. She was nothing like any wasicu he had seen before. Her body appeared strong and healthy, ripe for bearing children. Her skin was so white as to resemble a cloud and it stood in sharp contrast to her black hair and murky green eyes. He might have guessed her to be one of the whores he had seen among the wasicu, but she had none of the filth, none of the disgrace. Those women appeared to him as beaten dogs. This one held her head high and looked directly at those around her. She seemed proud and bold. It wasn't her place; she ought to be more modest, though wisely, unlike so many wasicu, she chose not to fill the silence with meaningless words. Red Grouse sat back and puffed his pipe, regarding her, thinking. When at last he spoke, Looks Far raised a small protest, but ever the dutiful son, he translated his father's words: "Is it your wish to stay among the Lakota?" "What must I do to stay?" She inquired. Red Grouse puffed some more then spoke via Looks Far: "There is a woman, Calls to the Them, who lost a daughter. Her lodge is empty and her husband has thrown her away. She might find you of use. She would treat you well, but you must perform your duty as any daughter would. Tan skins, prepare food, gather turnips, repair the lodge – these are not difficult things. You will learn. It is the only way." Then, Looks Far turned his head ever so slightly and added: "If you are discovered lacking, or you seek to create trouble, you will be cast out with nothing. I will make certain of this. Let Wakan Tanka decide your fate." For the first time Elaine's voice cracked with emotion at the harshness of what he had said. "I would never seek to bring harm to those who have treated me so well. It is not my way." Looks Far said nothing, but was surprised at her choice of words. It was like nothing he would expect a wasicu to say. He grew more intrigued by her but tempered his curiosity with caution. She was simply unknown and he would have to learn of her in his own way, not through words which wasicus so often used to mask deceit. Looks Far stood abruptly and motioned with a tilt of his chin. "Come," he ordered. Elaine followed him through the camp as children trailed in their wake. She regarded Looks Far from behind as he walked. He had confidence in his stride and his clout would flap in the wind revealing the rounded, muscular curve of his buttocks as he moved. His hair was long enough to tickle his waist and in the sun it appeared shot through with deep cherry tones. It was a shame he hated her so, for he was easily one of the more alluring men she had ever met – haughty and beautiful, but also seemingly thoughtful and intelligent. He was also the only one who appeared to know any English, though how he came to speak it so well was an intriguing mystery. Calls to Them was already standing in wait outside her lodge. She was perhaps in her 50s and she had a fan of lines near her eyes so deep it was clear she was a woman who had smiled much once in her life. But her face now appeared worried, tired. Even so, she nodded her head and tried a smile as Looks Far made introductions. Just as he turned to leave them, Elaine reached out and caught his arm. "Wait!" she started. He looked down at the stark white hand against his much darker skin. At this his gut reaction was to feel disdain, for the last time a wasicu had ever laid a hand to him it was to rap his fingers with a switch for using his own tongue to comfort to a younger boy who was inconsolable with fear. Yet when he looked up to the woman's face her eyes gently probed into his and he felt uncomfortably naked, as though she had seen into him. "I still don't know your name," she implored. "Tehanl Wanyanke," he replied, intentionally using the Lakota. "But what does it mean?" she pressed. He was slightly offended by her boldness but also appreciated that she seemed to care far more than most wasicus ever had about his true name. He had fought so hard to defend his birth name when he was captured and forced to take what they called a "Christian" name. None had cared to hear it spoken, much less know its meaning. Elaine never got her answer, but he met her with a small expression that appeared to be a half-smile. It was the first time she had seen his face soften, the eyes grow less hard, and suddenly and surprisingly she felt the gravity of another begin to tug at her. "Tehanl Wanyanke." She repeated the name as he turned to walk away. It was a name she was determined to learn the meaning of. Looks Far was shaken. Who was this woman? What was she? He was certain now she couldn't have come from the fort. It was as though she were not of the world entirely. The way she looked, moved, spoke, behaved -- like no people he had encountered before. Sometimes she seemed more Lakota than wasicu, but she was far too immodest. Maybe she wasn't a wasicu at all, but some other race or being entirely. She was wakan. A mystery, and unlike most of his people who were content with the unknown wonders of the world and creation, mysteries did not sit well for Looks Far. As the days and weeks came to pass, Elaine became completely engrossed in learning the hard work of being one of the people from Calls to Them. Tanning hides was the worst of it, scraping the fat from the skins alone was back breaking work, especially under the unmerciful sun. Elaine had fashioned a hat to protect her scalp and face from the rays, and the long sleeves of her dress did the rest, though her hands were turning a faint gold color and it distressed her. Between the heat, the risk of sunburn, and the constant curious stream of onlookers who marveled at her odd hat and glowing white skin, Elaine decided she would do most of her labors under cover of night and what she couldn't do at night, she would carry out under the shade of the cottonwood stand near the village. Calls to Them thought it odd, but Elaine was dutiful and polite, so she did not worry herself. "Woman Beneath the Stars." Calls to Them thought it was a good name for the odd wasicu. Though it was while alone under that cover of stars that Elaine had time to think and grow homesick. Time to worry. How would she ever return? What did her family think? Was she dead and this the afterlife? If she thought too much on it the weight of unknowing would crush her. But even when it was just a passing thought, she would weep into the night, her tears dried by the breeze that blew across the plains. Looks Far watched her work into the night, the faint light of her small fire casting a brilliant gold light on her skin. She appeared up to no malice, but why did she work into the night and weep without cause? Why did she hide far from the village during the day? For a woman so bold, he was puzzled. It had been long since he thought on a woman so frequently, if he ever had. Since his return to the Oglala Lakota he had labored to reclaim who he was by living the seven virtues, making himself spiritually strong, observing and learning when and how to negotiate and when to stand and fight. He wanted to be prepared for when the day came that he might have to defend his people against the wasicu. For he knew that in their greed and great numbers they would surely extend their grasp one day to the roots of the Paha Sapa and seek to rub the Lakota out, if not in body then at least in spirit. No, in preparing for this there had been no time for a woman. But that night, as he slept alone in his lodge, a specter came to him. It caressed the scars on his back with soft hands and trailed around his sides. When he looked down he saw small white hands slipping to the cord which tied his clout and he awoke with such a start that his brow poured sweat and his heart pounded. Beneath the robes his erection rose and pulsed, willing control over himself, he splashed water over his heated flesh, gritting his teeth. In his mind he could see her eyes on him again, imploring, curious. For a moment he wondered how those same eyes might look gazing up at him from below, but then he cursed his lust and cursed the woman more who might provoke him to betray all he held dear. Beneath the Stars Ch. 01 The moon was almost full and Elaine took advantage of the light to wander to her favorite place beneath the cottonwoods to repair her dress and moccasins which were rapidly becoming worn through. Elaine had seen little of Looks Far the past few weeks and she wondered why he had been so absent. There were no war parties she knew of, no raids. Though their spheres were separate, she might have expected to see him in passing but it seemed he had all but vanished. Though her Lakota improved by the day, she imagined it would be nice to have someone to speak to her in her own language and longed for the opportunity. For all the kindness of Calls to Them and the others, Elaine was isolated. While she worked, lightening flashed in the distance and clouds began to drift across the sky, obscuring her light. The air grew more electric by the moment and it felt unsafe to be outside. As she hurried back into camp she sensed she was being followed, but when she turned, she saw nothing in the darkness but a few of the Lakota putting out their fires and bringing in goods which might be ruined by the coming storm. Then, just as her tent came into view at the far end of the camp, she found herself enveloped in strong arms and covered by a buffalo robe which the man had somehow managed to wrap around them both, covering them from head to toe. Elaine turned within this cocoon to face her attacker and fend him off, but as she did, she realized it was none other than Tehanl Wanyanke who held her. For a man who had been so distant it was an unexpectedly intimate embrace. Once Elaine gathered her wits, she calmly requested to know why he was behaving thus toward her. He ignored the question, for he had questions of his own. "Why are you here?" Looks Far demanded sharply. "Why have you come to this place? You are not needed! You are not wanted! What trouble do you bring?" "I don't know!" She said, exasperated and hurt. "I don't know how I came to be in this part of the world or in this time at all." "This time? How do you mean?" he asked, his voice softened by curiosity. Elaine simply cast her eyes away from his gaze, never had he looked at her so directly. Rain began to tap at the robe covering them, making the space they shared warm and humid. Beneath the smell of smoke and grease she could detect his scent, rich and earthy. Harder the drops fell and the earth grew muddy beneath their feet. "Come, we will go to my lodge." He said. Holding the robe above their heads they trotted quickly through the downpour. They entered together and as Looks Far went to stoke the fire, Elaine waited awkwardly by the door. She didn't know the etiquette for entering a man's lodge. "Sit," he said, and gestured to his left side. Elaine came and sat stiffly beside him. She expected him to verbally attack her, but he didn't. Instead he leaned back and began carving away at a pipe. It was a while before he spoke again and by now his mood had shifted. "Do you know what the people call you? They say you are the Woman Beneath the Stars," He paused and chipped away some more at the pipe, running his thumb over the edges, testing them for splinters. "You prefer night," he began again. "Why? Is it something you're hiding that you fear we will see or are all wasicu so strange?" Elaine laughed a little, baring her even white teeth. "No, Tehanl Wanyanke, I hide nothing but my own white skin which hurts and burns in the sun." "Do you not have sunlight where you come from?" he replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Well, where I come from people are not exposed as often, most of what we do is indoors. We work and eat there, it's where our lives are lived." "That is no life," Looks Far countered. "I have seen too much of the white man's walls. He forgets the feel of the earth beneath his feet and it is not good. If a man does not know the ground on which he stands he has no center." "I agree with you," she said. "I have just never known any other life until now. Where I come from, everyone has forgotten what it feels like to be of this earth." "Then I am very sorry for you," he said, his voice tinged with sympathy. Seeing the potential for friendship, Elaine relaxed and slid closer to Looks Far, he did not acknowledge this but he didn't move away, either. "Tell me, how is it you know English so well? What have you seen of the white man's world?" Looks Far regarded her for a moment. From the corner of his eye he saw hers upon him, gazing at his face, bringing back that feeling of nakedness once more. A chill ran through him but what it meant he couldn't place. "When I was a boy, the wasicu took me from what was left of my kin and brought me to their village. They said they would teach me to be a man and not a savage. They made me forget my name, called me "Peter" instead. They tried to make me forget our language, our ways..." he trailed off, looking distant. Emotion flickered across his face, recalling some long-repressed pain. Gently, slowly, Elaine reached out a hand and barely touched the scars which crisscrossed his back. Looks Far stiffened and feeling this, Elaine spoke: "I know the wasicu did this to you, didn't they? It is something wicked, something that pains me to see. I would have stopped them then had I been there." "I needed no woman to protect me," he declared defensively. "No, of course not, but I wouldn't have been able to stop myself. I couldn't have stood to see you harmed. It would have made me too angry not to step in. No man, woman or child should ever endure such a thing." Looks Far turned to face Elaine: "You are a strange wasicu, I cannot understand you." The rain began to pound harder upon the lodge and the wind howled between claps of thunder. Elaine's old childhood phobia of tornados began to surface and Looks Far sensed her fear each time she shook with the thunder. The wasicun winyan so brave with the Lakota feared the wind and rain and her vulnerability touched him. "If you wish, you may stay in my lodge tonight," Looks Far said. Pausing, he added "If it is of concern, you will not be dishonored." "Pilamayayelo, thank you." she replied. Looks Far smiled at her perfect pronunciation, his teeth as even and radiant as her own. The hour was late and Elaine yawned with exhaustion. The storm had brought a chill to the air and as she shivered, she noticed that Looks Far had only two buffalo robes and one was still soaked from the downpour. As he handed her the dry robe, Elaine looked up at him: "I am grateful you offer this to me, but I cannot allow you to sleep under a wet robe or in the cold. It would not be right. Please, take mine." It was unthinkable to him to deprive a guest of the best robe, he flatly refused. Emboldened, Elaine added: "Then we may share, it is large enough to cover us both..." Looks Far's jaw tensed and pulsed. Was she offering herself to him? Did she know what this meant? Should he oblige her? He regarded her. Even for a wasicu, she was beautiful. The people had said as much, too. Had she darker skin, the strong bones of her face and arrow-straight, jet black hair could pass her as a Lakota which was to say nothing of the generous swells of her hips and breasts. Long had it been since a woman had shared his lodge, few could tolerate his brooding, mercurial nature and none understood what he had lived and seen. Finally, he responded: "Are you certain of this?" "Han, yes, Tehanl Wanyanke, I am." Looks Far stood and hung the other robe to dry, watching her as he did. It was customary for Lakota to sleep in the nude and Elaine's dress smelled of sweat and was splashed with mud. Shaking before his unwavering gaze, she slipped the dress over her head and Looks Far appraised what he saw with no expression to betray his thoughts. Unnerved and slightly aroused, Elaine hurriedly slipped under the thick robe and lay on her back, staring up at the faint wisps of smoke drifting through the top of the lodge. In her periphery she could see Looks Far stripping his moccasins, his leggings and finally his clout. Taking off his medicine pouch and feathers, he laid these aside before lifting the robe and slipping in beside her, not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel the heat radiating from the other's body. Elaine released the shaking breath she had been holding. Looks Far noticed. "Are you afraid of me now? You should not worry, it is not our way to put a woman on the prairie as the wasicu do to ours." "No, I am not afraid," she replied. "It has just been a long time since I lay next to a man like this. It is something I missed. I have been very alone in my life here." Boldly she reached out and laid a hand across his chest where she could feel the rapid thud of his heart. She marveled at the smoothness of his hairless skin and at the contrast of their tones. Still, Looks Far made no move to caress her. Perhaps she has misjudged, overstepped some boundary. But no, he lay still and made no move to remove her hand or indicate offense. They must have lain thus for close to an hour when, just as Elaine was drifting off to sleep, Looks Far uttered a command: "Turn to your stomach." Rousing, Elaine obeyed. Suddenly Looks Far was behind her. His hands firmly grasped her hips and pulled her up to her elbows and knees. He said nothing, but held her firmly in place, gazing shamelessly at her ass and the cleft of her sex in the dying firelight. She felt like livestock. She was being inspected. Examined. It was degrading. It was the most erotic thing anyone had ever done to her. Her thighs began to quiver and shake but he held them fast, stilled her, and whispered a phrase in Lakota – "Icicupi, mitawan" -- which was unfamiliar yet soothing. He ran his hands back up the insides of her thighs, barely grazing her outer labia. Then it was over her buttocks, the curve of her hips, and to the narrow bend of her waist. "Waste," he uttered. "good" With surprising force, he flipped her onto her back and straddled her hips. She dared look down where his body met hers. His balls rested on her belly, full and heavy, and just above, rising from a patch of sparse, straight hair was his dark, thick erection. The foreskin pulled taught to reveal the smooth reddish brown head glistening with precum. Her response was Pavlovian, she salivated at the thought of feeling him within her. His black eyes, half lidded, gazed down at her. He surveyed her face, her full, firm breasts with nipples so pale they might have blended into the surrounding flesh were they not so hard and tight. Succumbing to temptation, Looks Far leaned over Elaine, his long hair falling to tickle her ribs as he pressed his erection hard into her belly in a slow grind and ghosted his lips over the peaks of her breasts until she was gasping with sensation. She tilted her own hips to meet his and pressed her nails into the scarred skin on his back. She had a passion he did not know the wasicu possessed. Wasicu. In his desire he had almost forgotten this difference between them. He suddenly felt traitorous. Pulling away and turning to his side, Looks Far faced away from her. Elaine lay gasping, perplexed. "What is it?" she dared ask. "Just sleep," he said, flatly. "How can you expect a woman to sleep after that, you create a need that must be met," she stated, but Looks Far would have none of it and he interrupted: "And together we create a fire which would consume more than just ourselves. We cannot." What was he hinting at? She wondered. For a moment, it sounded as though his feelings went deeper than mere physical desire. She lay silently in the dark and her anger and frustration grew. "But what of the fire you create in me? How am I to answer that?" she demanded. He ignored her. His shift in mood was infuriating. With desire forcing aside consideration for his turmoil, Elaine raised her voice once more: "What if it burns me up, how am I to quench it?" Reaching down she raked her fingers through her cunt, gathering wetness and asked, voice raised, "Am I to quench it with this?" At that she smeared the wetness on her hand along his bare back. That was all it took to provoke him to act. Rising rapidly above her, Looks Far flipped the woman onto her belly and held her down by the back of her neck with so much force that she gasped for air against the furs. Wordlessly he thrust his thick length into her, it was so full and powerful that tears brimmed in her eyes and her jaw clenched with the ecstatic pressure of it all. Still pressing hard at the back of her neck, Looks Far thrust rapidly into her, his deep bronze flesh slapping violently against her cream colored buttocks, sweat mingling. He was mindless, unable to stop. He hated and desired her all at once. He wished she had never come, but now she was here, he longed to know her, to solve her mystery, to explore her within and without. She was panting, gasping beneath him, the sound of her cries rising. To silence her, Looks Far moved the restraining hand to cover her mouth. Her moist breath and the sensation of her full, open lips dragging across his palm were nearly enough to undo him. Finally, when felt her pushing back to meet his thrusts, growing tighter and slicker by the moment, when at last her muscles clenched around him, Looks Far felt his balls tighten to his body and his shaft swell ever more within her. Just as he was going to release, he pulled out, cried a broken "Eyah!" and painted her back with jets of opalescent semen, for no child must come of this traitorous union. Elaine was grateful he had pulled out, for she had no desire to bear a child in the midst of such turmoil -- caught out of time in an alien world, far from 21st century medical care and the support of family and friends who knew and loved her well. Looks Far collapsed to her side, his softening cock drooling the remains of his spent pleasure. In appreciation, Elaine rose up beside him and went to press her lips to his. He turned his head from her, and said, not unkindly, "No, little one, that is not our way." So she settled for the line of his jaw, the contours of his ribs, the dip in the muscle that extends from hip to groin, the inside of his thighs, inhaling his scent and tasting the sheen of sweat as she went. He shivered in pleasure, moaning slightly. Gently she pressed her lips to the head of his softening arousal and extended her tongue to lap at what seeped there. "Heyah! Too much!" he gasped and jolted, drawing a hand to defend his sensitive sex. Elaine giggled, declaring "Onsila!" -- Poor thing -- in Lakota. And for the first time Looks Far laughed with her, eyes sparkling at hers in the darkness. As she crawled up to lay beside him, Looks Far turned and gathered her into his arms, pressing himself into the softness of her body as one hand cradled her breast gently and the other protectively cupped her sex. He breathed in the faint smell of sage in her hair and imagined she was Lakota, that she were free to choose and be chosen as one of their own to unite as one with him. Alas, she was a wasicu, born of the enemy. And unique though she may be, such intimacy had been unwise. But the deep rhythm of her breathing and the warmth of her body against his own lulled him to sleep. In the dreaming world they were transparent beings. There they merged as one with the air, the earth, and with each other with no colors, no barriers, and no bodies to stand between them. Icicupi, mitawan (Surrender, my woman) Wasicu (White Man, literally, Fat Taker) Wasicu winyan (white woman) Heyah (No) Wakan (holy or mysterious) Waste (pronounced "wash-tay," meaning "good") Beneath the Stars Ch. 02 Looks Far awoke first. The fire was out and a chill had settled in the air, causing Woman Beneath the Stars to turn and tuck her shivering body against his own, her cold nose pressing into his chest. He gazed at her face in the faint morning light which streamed through the top of the lodge. Her skin glowed and her eyelashes lay heavy and dark on her cheeks. Then he registered the hard points of her nipples pressing against his ribs. Against his will he felt his cock twitch to life in response. Enveloping her more fully in his arms, he pressed himself against her to relieve the ache, tucked her face against his shoulder so that her might forget her beauty, ignore the whiteness of her skin. But then she moaned and burrowed her smooth thigh between his own, pressing her moist sex to his flesh and causing a fresh wave of desire to wash over him. He slid up slightly to align himself with her and cursed his own weakness as he slipped the head of his penis between her folds, nudging her clitoris to life. Half-rousing, Elaine adjusted herself to allow him entry. When at last he was inside her warm, snug passage, he lay perfectly still and breathed in the smell of her skin at the base of her throat. He could feel the blood pulsing in her body around the throbbing of his own. They seemed in time, in harmony. He had never felt such closeness with another human being. With small rotations of his hips, he began a dance far removed from the one shared hours before. Slow and deep he luxuriated in the feel of her. Awakening further but still caught in the reverie of dreaming, Elaine held tight to Looks Far and pressed her lips along his cheek. Her breath chuffed his ear and he increased the force of his movements. Now she was fully awake and her mossy green eyes met his fathomless black depths. This time he did not look away. He watched as her desire rose and lips parted in a sharp intake of breath. Impulsively he caught them in his own and held them softly. It was not a custom among the people, no, but she had sought it the night before and now he was curious to know this pleasure he had seen the wasicu engage in. At this unexpected surprise, Elaine pressed her mouth more fully to his own and lightly traced her tongue along his bottom lip. Looks Far would have been disgusted at the thought of anyone else doing such a thing, but with Woman Beneath the Stars, he found himself wanting more and bringing his tongue to meet her own. Just then Elaine broke the kiss and gasped as he touched a place deep within her. Looks Far softly chuckled. "Does this please you, woman?" She was beginning to pant and speaking was a challenge, "Han, this is a very hehanni waste (good morning)" At that she clenched her walls around him and pulled him ever closer, her hands clasping at his muscular buttocks as they tensed and relaxed with his efforts. Looks Far could not suppress his low groan of pleasure as she pulled him impossibly deep inside her. Their bodies were becoming sweat-slick and their breath fogged in the cool air of the lodge. Elaine watched as his hairless brow -- for he plucked it clean like all plains men of the time -- knit in concentration. She sensed his peak was drawing near and withdrew him quickly with her hand, holding him close as he bucked and came against the softness of her stomach, breathlessly murmuring unfamiliar words in Lakota as the orgasm swept over him. For a moment they lay in the sticky, sweet afterglow, simply gazing at the others' face in silence. Looks Far slightly squinted his eyes, as if trying to see back into her own. Elaine averted hers at this unexpected scrutiny and instead followed the contours of his cheekbones and lips, overcome with how unusually beautiful and almost alien he appeared with those slightly tilted eyes and that browless, smooth-skinned countenance. It was a face she would not mind waking up next to for the rest of her days. Why couldn't she have met such a man in her own time? Surely this could not last, surely she would not be here forever, but as long as she was here, she would revel in having found someone with whom she could connect. Without warning, Looks Far withdrew himself and started the lodge fire anew, drawing the now-dry buffalo robe around his shoulders. "You should return to Calls to Them, she would wish to know where you have been." He sounded morose and withdrawn. There was no time to tarry and ask questions, he was right, she needed to return. Throwing her dress back over her head and pulling on her tall moccasins, Elaine made her way to the door, turning back to look at Tehanl Wanyanke as he crouched, staring in to the fire. "I am glad to know you," she said. And like that, she was gone. Once she departed, Looks Far cast his eyes over to a neatly folded bundle tucked under his clothing and accoutrements. He had carried it all these years but never opened it lest it bring back painful reminders of a life he had never asked for. Now, he wondered if it might hold something new for him. He willed his shaking hands still as he untied the sinew binding. Inside were three books, one of his dusty old ledger books, a collection of poetry with lines from Blake to Byron, and finally, The Complete Works of Shakespeare. He began to thumb through them. Inside the ledger book were writing lessons and drawings he had made while at the mission school. Within he had attempted to capture all he could recall of his life before he was taken, everything except the one event which had so cruelly snatched him from his world. In between these illustrations, in steady cursive hand, he had written the wasicu alphabet, Biblical proverbs, simple sentences, and lessons in grammar. He traced the lines with his fingers, remembering how strange and pointless it felt to be forced to perform such exercises. Next he came to the book of poems, riddles which, once he could understand them, had swept Looks Far away with the power of their words. The book fell open to a poem by Lord Byron: "She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies..." He thought on Woman Beneath the Stars, for the lines seemed to have been written just for her. Impulsively he tore the page free then folded and tucked it beneath the robe where she had laid not long before. Finally he reached the book of Shakespeare. Inside were tales of valor and betrayal, not so unlike those told by the elders which had captivated Looks Far as a child. He opened the tome to "Romeo and Juliet," the one story that held little meaning to him but which as a boy he had been forced to memorize passages to recite before his classmates. Now the story seemed of greater interest. Scanning the pages, his eyes fell to a line which chilled him: "These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder..." It was Friar Laurence's warning to Romeo for having fallen so quickly for Juliet, his sworn enemy. Pushing these thoughts aside, Looks Far continued to thumb through the book until he arrived as the final page. There, tucked within a slit he had made in the leather binding was a tattered and bloodied bit of white cotton fabric. Taking it in his hands, he began to weep as a long-faded memory came into clear focus. It had been a warm morning in the season of the Tall Grass. Few had risen in the camp, but Looks Far, then a child of 10 winters known as Sparrow, lay awake, excited and eager for his father to take him on his first hunt as had been promised. Outside, he could hear the dogs barking and beyond that, the sound of some strange music growing nearer and louder by the moment. Sparrow went and shook his father awake and asked if he, too, could hear the sound. The man's eyes flashed with alarm and he quickly tied on his clout, waking and urging his wife to do the same. As they dressed, a rising din of screams, shouts and gunfire began to erupt outside. The family had yet to put on their moccasins when the wasicu men in blue coats burst into their lodge. When he saw them enter with guns drawn, Sparrow's father unfurled the small white flag of peace in his hands and threw himself before his wife and son as the soldiers came upon them with their bayonets. Sparrow had no time to act, he was afraid and disoriented and could only watch helplessly as the soldiers ran his mother and father through with their long knives so many times and with such force that the spray of blood filled the air within the lodge like a fine mist, raining down upon them. A trumpet call sounded from outside and as the soldiers turned to retreat, Sparrow pulled the skinning knife from his mother's belt and made a leap onto the back of one of the men, driving the blade with full force into the man's shoulder. But Sparrow was small for his age and the man, even in his pain, easily flipped the boy from his back onto the ground and pressed his glossy black boot into the child's chest. With his hobnailed sole pinning Sparrow down, the blue coat bent and retrieved the white flag from where it lay, wet with the blood of his parents. He laughed cruelly, crouching low and dangling the flag before the boy's eyes. The man's pained and labored breathing came hard against Sparrow's face as he began to speak. Sparrow didn't understand the meaning of the soldier's words then, but the man he had become, Looks Far, did. "Listen boy and remember: There is no peace for your kind, only death. Embrace it." He withdrew his boot and dropped the bloodied flag to the child's chest before he and the others exited the lodge, leaving Sparrow to stare heavenwards in shock as the sun came high through the smoke hatch and cast its radiant light upon the abattoir. The world seemed to have fallen silent when mere moments before he could hear little over the deafening cries of the people, the claps of gunfire, and the shrieks of panicked horses. The silence was broken by a low rumble follow by the sounds of popping and crackling. Still he lay, unmoving within the circle of the lodge. Soon, the walls around him began to blacken and curl as smoke filled his lungs and clouded his sight. Clutching the flag to his chest, Sparrow sprung up and dashed through the doorway just as the long lodge poles began to collapse over the bodies of his parents. Turning back, his eyes filled with fire as all he had known burned before him. He stood, mesmerized by the sight and motionless until he was pulled up from the earth by a force he had neither seen nor heard. He did not fight back. Wiping the tears from his eyes, Looks Far gently folded the last reminder of his parents and pressed it between his palms. He had kept their ghosts too long, they deserved release. With a murmured prayer, Looks Far cast the flag into the fire. It quickly turned to ash before his eyes, drifting up on the grey plumes to meet the late morning sun. Elaine was becoming increasingly fond of Calls to Them. When she slipped back into the tent that morning, Calls to Them chose not to berate her for her absence but instead looked upon Elaine with relief and pulled the younger woman close in an embrace as she said in Lakota, "I've missed you, daughter." Calls to Them was kind and considerate, ever fretful over the welfare of children who tested their swimming skills too far out in the river or whose fathers could not provide well for them. In that embrace, Elaine could sense how alone Calls to Them must have felt and so she decided to invite her to come and share their work under the shade of the cottonwoods. A smile illuminated Calls to Them's weathered face and together they made their way to the stand of trees by the river. As they worked, Calls to Them asked in simple Lakota "Daughter, do you have a husband? From home?" "No, Mother," Elaine replied in Lakota, groping for the words. "I am alone. I lived alone." Calls to them frowned and clucked her tongue. "Do you wish for a husband? You are not yet too old and even with so much white skin, you are attractive; you could have many to choose from." Elaine shook her head. "No Lakota would marry a wasicu, I would make trouble for him." Calls to Them laughed at her words, thinking them ridiculous. Woman Beneath the Stars was the first wasicu Calls to Them had ever seen, and she was not so troublesome. Surely, the wasicu were a strange people from what she had heard, but this woman chose to live as a Lakota and so she would become as one. Her origin would not matter so much in time. "Why do you laugh?" Elaine asked, exasperated at her own inability to understand the humor in what she had just shared. "It is maybe because you already have a suitor," the older woman said, brows raised as she looked up from her work sewing doeskins. Elaine was suddenly unnerved by the idea that a stranger might have come to call. How would she navigate fending off unwanted advances without creating anger or strife? "Who?" she dared ask, prepared for the worst. "Tehanl Wanyanke, he watches you," she said. "Others say they saw you together last night under the courting robe. Is this true?" Elaine blushed deeply at hearing his name and knowing they were being gossiped about. She felt ashamed and immodest in the eyes of the woman who had taken her in. But the feelings were short-lived as Calls to Them laughed heartily once more. "Daughter," she continued. "Maybe he is a good match. Like you, he is strange to us. He is a courageous warrior and good hunter, he is honorable, but he has never taken a wife. He is quiet. He does not laugh." Elaine smiled for she knew this wasn't true, for the evening before they had shared laughter together. Calls to Them caught the smile and cast a knowing look at Elaine. "You have come to know him then?" she asked, but it sounded more like a statement, Elaine couldn't be certain. "Han, yes, I have." "You will make him your husband, then," Calls to Them said, curtly. Before Elaine could reply, the older woman got up, gathered her things and strode away. Elaine stared after her and, as though sensing this, Calls to Them turned around and cast her a look not of anger or reproach, but of mischief. The woman was up to something, though God or Wakan Tanka only knew what. Elaine watched as her adoptive mother vanished into the village. She could hear children laughing and screaming. She saw women at work, gossiping and arguing. Saw the young men tend their ponies in the river. No one here could imagine spending their lives glued to screens, villages where they didn't know their neighbors names and where children grew ill because they exercised only their fingers at video game controllers. And though Elaine missed that realm, she also longed for this one where people lived connected and engaged with each other and the world around them. It wasn't always pretty, it certainly wasn't easy, but it was fully human. Even if she were to be swept back today, Elaine knew there would always be a part of her that would long for this and mourn more than ever before its cruel end. And then there was Tehanl Wanyanke. Imagining his loss caused a creeping hollow in her gut, so the swallowed the feeling and turned back to the mindless task of sewing water bladders. In the nights that followed, sleep brought no respite to Elaine. She tossed and turned fitfully, plagued with violent dreams which grew ever more detailed by the night. The scenes played across her subconscious like flashes punctuated by gunfire. The furious pounding of hooves. The smell of black powder. And bodies that lay like a blanket across the prairie. In her dreams she was alone, the sole survivor, searching along them. Each body she turned bore his face. Snapping awake in terror, Elaine was met only with the soft snoring of Calls to Them from across the lodge. Restless and in need of air, Elaine dressed and stepped outside to wander the village and calm her mind. Before she knew it, her feet had carried her all the way to Tehanl Wanyanke's lodge. For the better part of a week he had once more been conspicuously absent and it worried her, though whether it was concern for his welfare or concern that his interest in her had waned, she could not be certain. She dared not indicate her presence, but the horror of her most recent dream compelled her to try and take a peek within, if only to ensure he was safely asleep. She lay on her belly along the ground and peered through the narrow slit where the lodgeskins met the earth. Inside it was dark save for the faint glow of the fire which only served to completely obscure whatever lay on the other side of it. It was useless, she couldn't make out a thing. "It is not wise for an unrelated woman to be seen so near to a man's lodge unchaperoned." His voice gave her such a start that she nearly screamed, but thought better of it in a split-second. Embarrassed, Elaine scrambled to her feet and turned to face Tehanl Wanyanke, casting her eyes down in a show of modesty and respect. Then she felt the tips of his fingers graze her chin. The contact lasted only a split second, but it provoked her to cast her eyes up to his face as a ripple of pleasure ran through her. "I'm sorry, I know," she said, quietly. "But I had a terrible vision in the night, and I needed to see you were safe." Looks Far smiled tenderly at her, for he could hear the concern in her words. He looked upon her hands, once so soft now grown calloused with skinning and mending. Her dark hair lightly greased and gathered in two braids. The tiny shell earrings she wore. Less and less he saw a wasicu, but rather someone who, like him, had been thrust into an alien world far from all she knew but who had labored hard to adapt with grace and courage. Someone like him who was at once part of a community and yet, in many ways, alone within it. He saw a woman -- beautiful, desirable and worried for him. And it was this which quieted his rising impulse to invite her beneath his robes once more. She was worthy of more respect than he had at first shown. At last, Looks Far replied to her: "Woman Beneath the Stars, as you can see, I am well. Do not fret." Gently laying his hand to her shoulder he added: "Return to your mother and be patient. I will seek you out." The horizon was turning a brilliant red and the birds began to call in the grass. The smooth planes of his face seemed to glow in the breaking dawn. He was a vision to behold. She thought for a moment to ask what exactly he meant, then she thought better of it. For the Lakota felt it rude to press. Information should be freely given. "Now go, quickly," he urged, squeezing the shoulder her held for emphasis. "Your mother awakes soon and I will not hear of you creating worry for her again!" As always, Tehanl Wanyanke had a point. As she hurried back across camp, his words "I will seek you out," echoed in her mind, making her giddy as a pubescent girl. When Elaine arrived back at Calls to Them's lodge, she was surprised to find the old woman awake and waiting for her. On her lap she held a bundle of pristine white elk skin. It was intricately quilled and beaded, and upon closer inspection, Elaine saw it was a dress. Her glance shot up to meet Calls to Them, who smiled so broadly her eyes nearly shut. "Daughter," she began, her voice mirthful. "This is the dress my mother, Owl Woman, made for me. Red Grouse is a widow now and you will have no mother-in-law to create a dress for you in our way. This is my gift for you, for your marriage to Tehanl Wanyanke." Elaine sat back for a moment, stunned and piecing together what had been said with the command of Lakota she had thus far acquired. Marriage? To Tehanl Wanyanke? Beneath the Stars Ch. 02 Calls to Them had touched the subject before, but it had never been broached again. Of course, she had been a fool not to consider this was what the people would expect of them. Hadn't they seen them under the courting robe? Around his lodge together? This was not a world in which men and women were simply friends-with-benefits in the 21st Century sense. No, bonds here ran deep, forged in the spirit world and tied to family and survival. To refuse a gift was unthinkable. And in truth, would marriage to him be such a terrible fate? No, she did not yet know him well, but what were her options? With seeking out other whites being unthinkable and no way to return to her own time, Elaine considered the wisdom of having Tehanl Wanyanke to provide for her and protect her. To teach her, to talk to her. To make love to her. A shiver of pleasure ran through her. No, there were far worse fates. "Mother, I am grateful," Elaine said. "It's beautiful. I accept this gift." Elaine reached for the bundle, caressed its softness and marveled at how her life had come to this. It was almost too surreal to be believed. "Mother?" She inquired. "How will this happen? I do not understand the way of marriage here." "There are many ways it may happen," Calls to Them replied. "You are not a maiden, you had no one to protect your virtue so maybe it will happen more quickly for you since he knows he can already have you. He may steal you in the night. I don't know. I've said before, he is a strange man. His way may be different." "But when will I know?" Elaine pressed. At this, Calls to Them waved her hand, indicating that Woman Beneath the Stars had asked too many questions. Elaine took the hint and turned away, attempting to busy herself with preparing a breakfast of turnips and one of the hares which she and Calls to Them caught in snares set on the prairie. What was it Tehanl Wanyanke had said of being patient? Whatever it was, Elaine's was growing thin. Two weeks had passed and he had vanished once more without a word. Summer was at its peak and the days, usually so busy with work, grew ever more lazy with the oppressive heat. Now, there was time to cool down in the river and splash at the children. Time to bead dresses and moccasins under the cottonwoods. Time to wonder where her betrothed had vanished to. Elaine had begun to think Tehanl Wanyanke had abandoned any plans to hold true to his word when, one morning, she was roused by the whinnies of horses. They seemed to be right outside the lodge. Before she could rub the sleep from her eyes, Calls to Them shook her fully awake, thrusting the elkskin dress into Elaine's hands. "Hurry!" She urged. "He has come to claim you, you must ready yourself!" A burst of adrenaline shot Elaine from her sleeping robes. This was not at all how she imagined her wedding day, but then again, everything that had happened was so far beyond her imagining as it was. Quickly she slipped on the dress for the first time. It was like butter on her skin. As she fingered the quills and shells at the breast, Calls to Them tsk'ed and rushed behind her, quickly combing and braiding her raven hair behind her shoulders as a properly married Lakota woman should. When at last Elaine stepped into the brilliant sun, her heart shuddered at the sight of Tehanl Wanyanke. His waist length hair was loose and lustrous in the late morning light and his flawless bronze skin slightly flushed at the cheeks a redder hue than usual. He was standing taller than he ever seemed to before in his finest shirt adorned with scalp locks and dyed a vibrant blue at the shoulders. In his hands he held the bridles of three beautiful horses and it was to Calls to Them he offered these. "Mother-in-Law, since Woman Beneath the Stars has no father, please accept these humble gifts in his stead. They are but a fraction of the value your daughter holds for me." Elaine had not understood everything, but she got the gist and was humbled by it. In a different world, reading of this custom in a book, she might have seen this as sexist. Like an exchange of chattel. But here, in this world, she saw it for what it was meant to be: A gesture of honor, of respect. An acknowledgement of her great value to Tehanl Wanyanke as a human being. Turning to Elaine, Looks Far raised his hand, open-palmed and fingers spread before her. Elaine looked around them, uncertain of how to proceed. As this point a crowd had gathered about them, standing solemn and watching their every move. Turning back to Looks Far, head bowed and eyes downcast in the Lakota way, Elaine raised her own smaller hand to meet his. As their palms pressed flat together a great trill rose among the women in the crowd and the men shouted words of blessing. It became clear to Elaine that in the eyes of Wakan Tanka and the people, she and the strange man of the Lakota were now husband and wife.