[quote=@persianversion]
It would not take a year for Najla to forget Ketill. She had a life to return to after all, and so far as she knew, she had done as her conscience and her God desired. None could have asked more of her. Thus, Najla spent the next year taking back what had been hers, beginning with her network.

It proved much easier to cultivate this time around, and Najla began with those contacts in the capital that had not disappeared or gone to others in her absence. They were few, but they were rewarded handsomely, and given every assurance that their loyalty would be continually rewarded in the future. Those that had vanished, she did not seek, for she did not have those resources yet, but those that had changed their loyalties were quietly eliminated. It did not take much for her influence to pick up once more, aided as it was by her name, her title, and now, her story. Whatever reputation she had before, it could not match that which was brought along by Ketill’s enslavement. After all, they had thought her dead, only to have her return unharmed and enslave her former master, a Servant, to the Sultan. They had not heard of her failures in Coedwin, and knew nothing of the indignities she had suffered, and so Najla had returned to a people with a new admiration for her. Those that she sought as contacts were not immune to this reputation, and Najla found that though her new network was far smaller, she would come to prefer it quickly, for when she had first started building her network the first time around, it had been through the help of her family. Now, Najla was finding that her contacts were increasingly loyal to her. Not to her cousins, or the Sultanate, but to her.

Beyond their loyalty, they came to her faster as well. Najla found she had little trouble convincing people she could protect their interests, and it did not take long before this increasingly loyal network was slowly spreading beyond the capital. Her sights were set on Coedwin now, for Najla was one of the few in the Sultan’s court who had been within the city personally and lived to reappear. In fact, she was one of the few who had been through so much of Broacien alive, and Najla was poised to spread her network throughout Broacien. While Najla had been an influential figure before, she knew a few more years of this difficult work would position her to become a key figure of the Sultan’s court now, and so Najla continued her efforts tirelessly.  

While she was slowly taking back her influence, if not gaining more, Najla wanted her lover back as well. Annoyed by his initial refusal to resume their relationship, Najla had respected his wishes initially, still angry that he had taken a wife so quickly. Even still, she found she could not forget him so easily. It was no easy feat for her to watch him strut around the palace with his new wife on his arm, but these blows grew softer as her time within the court lengthened, and soon, Najla found that they did not hurt at all. Osman would invent reasons to come to her chambers, and rather than business, the pair would speak as intimately as if Najla’s head rested on his chest, even though they spoke across desks. He had no kind words for the few suitors that came to her, and was only emboldened when he saw that Najla had none either. It was a frustrating game for a couple of months, as even though Osman insisted upon keeping his promise, Najla knew it was futile. She’d take no other husband, and his wife had not been enough to keep them apart. It took only two months for her to resume her advances on her lover, and it took another before he fell to them, at some prince’s party that would be lost within the multitude of celebrations that would follow. 

First, they had drank together, then danced together, and soon, had snuck off to the edges of the courtyard as they had when they were younger. Then, his wife had not been waiting for him. Then, they had clumsily filled glasses of wine and laughed as they drank too much of it while hiding among the flowers, spilling secrets before Najla would promise to return to him at night, only to sneak off to a waiting family. Tonight, they went empty-handed, and their laughter came softer, but she knew her affection for him had not lessened. They threaded their way through the gardens off of memory alone, their conversation full of old stories, occasionally brushing against each other as if they simply couldn’t help it.

[i]<“I swear, I don’t remember you being quite so dignified. You used to be-”>

<“Brutish?”>[/i] 

Najla laughed at that, shaking her head as she continued. [i]<“No, never brutish. Rougher, certainly. You always had an instinct for the courtly intrigue, but you were still clearly a tribesman.”>[/i]

[i]<“Mmm. Well, Elif doesn’t like them quite as rough as you did.”>[/i]

Najla let out a short laugh, reaching a hand out to push Osman’s arm lightly, at which point she saw the grin spreading across his lips. She had missed having someone who was this easy to speak to, who was so assured of her love for him that he would speak to her without apprehension. He would never dare to do so in front of her family, for his title could never match her family name, but here, he would not soften his tongue.

[i]<“A shame. I hate to see your talents go to waste.”>[/i]

Osman’s grin widened at that reply, and he stopped walking, turning to look down at Najla. She would stop walking as well, turning to look up at him, only to see a familiar look in his eyes. It was a look that spelled victory for her, and Najla knew then that here, with his wife rejoicing in the celebrations behind them, she’d get her lover back. 

[i]<“You think they’re being wasted?”>[/i]

Najla hesitated then. There was a pause before she spoke, and though Osman was still grinning, Najla’s expression had softened somewhat, and she reached out, taking his hand softly. Osman did not pull his hand from her grasp, but gave her no other indication that he wanted his hand to be there.

[i]<“Osman, when I laid on your chest at night, we spoke of dynasties. We said we could make kingdoms rise and fall, do you remember? I haven't forgotten, I still believe we can.”>[/i] Najla moved closer to him then, now guiding his hand carefully. Even as she spoke, she lifted her skirts with one hand, slipping Osman’s hand under it. [i]<“If Elif speaks to you of anything less, then yes. Your talents are being wasted.”>[/i]

[i]<“Najla-”>[/i] Osman was not given a chance to protest. She guided his hand in between her thighs, and only released it when she could feel his fingers against the wetness at her inner thigh. She felt his hands graze against her, and for a moment, she thought he might withdraw them, before she felt him enter her with a finger. The sudden pleasure felt like a victory, and Najla pulled him in tighter by the fabric of his shirt, meeting her lips to his. Osman had no defenses left, it seemed, and his other hand gripped her waist, pulling her to him and ending whatever distance was between them. 

He pulled his finger out of her, and before he could do anything else with it, Najla reached down and pushed his hand away. Her skirts fell down again, and she pulled away from him, leaving the wetness on his fingers as the only evidence of their brief contact.

[i]<“We should return.”>[/i] Najla explained breathlessly. They’d been gone for some time, and while it would be forgotten in their younger days, there was no doubt that Elif would be waiting for her husband to return. Looking up once more, she smiled slightly upon seeing Osman’s disappointed expression. He loved her. He was hers. Najla knew this now more certainly than she knew most anything, and it was a struggle to keep her excitement hidden as she felt his hands disobey her before she spoke once more, interrupting their path. 

[i]<“Will you come visit me tonight?”>[/i]

[i]<“I-”>[/i] Osman paused, looking past the trees that blocked them and to where the lights glittered in the courtyard, the pulsing of the music becoming more apparent now that their embrace had been broken. [i]<“Najla, I don’t know.”>[/i] Elif was likely waiting for him to return so that she could retire to her chambers, but Najla’s sense of victory could not be broken by this. With a grin, she began to walk away, knowing Osman would exit the gardens some minutes after her. 

[i]<“Whatever you decide, I’ll be waiting for you.”>[/i]

He came to her that night. He came to her the next night as well, and likely would have come the night after if she had not asked him to stop. It would get too suspicious. Instead, he came to her with business during the day, and this time, she would not need to pretend it was real to keep him there. They continued like this for some time, sneaking as they had before Najla ever left, and the longer they managed to keep it a secret, the more Najla understood why Osman would always return to her over Elif. She was a sweet girl, who was thrilled to have a husband in such a high position, and did everything she could to keep him happy. Najla wanted nothing from Osman beyond his affections, and had made it clear just how far she’d go to keep them. And for some time, Najla was satisfied with this knowledge. 

While it seemed as if both Najla and Osman would have been satisfied with their relationship continuing in the shadows of the Sultan’s court, it could not last. Soon, Najla would get word from one of the midwives at the court that Elif had come to them when she thought she was pregnant, hoping to get a confirmation before telling her husband. Osman would not hear this news from Elif, who would wait only to find out it was not true, but from Najla, who worried as to what it meant for them. Osman simply offered her the same solution he had before, one Najla had hesitated at when she believed she could have him without it. Yet now that there was a chance Elif could be placed above her, Najla was willing. She’d have the match recommended to her uncle somehow, and accept a place as a second wife to a man she loved. 

It was no disgrace among the Sawarim to be the second or third wife of any man, especially among the Sultan’s court, but it was not the match Najla had dreamed of. She had initially refused Osman’s suggestions for many reasons, the foremost being that she would be a remarkable political asset to her family, especially with her newfound reputation, and it would be a waste to hand her off as a second wife to someone who could offer nothing more to the Sultan in return for a new wife. It seemed to her that pursuing this marriage would mean that she was not serving her family and the Sawarim as best as she could, but the realization that she’d lose Osman, and that this ‘service’ meant she’d rot in some caliph’s tent for the rest of her days, meant that Najla finally had enough reasons to pursue such a selfish endeavor. 

[hr]

It was for Osman that Najla piled together a small escort to visit her cousin. Tahir’s estate was not too far from the palace, and so she traveled with only a few guards to ensure her safety. Upon her arrival, she’d be greeted at the entrance by Tahir. Najla dismounted, allowing a slave to take her horse, and embraced Tahir, kissing him on the cheek softly before she released him. For a moment, they exchanged their pleasantries, their delight at seeing each other once more, before Tahir would escort her into his estate. 

[i]<“I think the last time you came to visit was just before your capture, wasn’t it?”>[/i]

Najla nodded at that, smiling slightly as she recalled the visit. Tahir was a son of the Sultan, one of many and with no way to reach the throne, but his princely status meant they had been raised within the same walls. Though he was at least ten years older than Najla, they grew close quickly when she began to expand her network, and Tahir had seen a potential in her, and quickly became key in fueling her influence. The Sultan placed a great deal of trust in him, as did Najla, and thus he had been one of the few who knew why she had entered Broacien at all. The last time she had visited him had been just before she was to be sent out, and Tahir had tried to soothe her nerves, telling her that all she did was in the name of the Sawarim, and whether she would succeed or fail, she’d be blessed in the eyes of God and the Sultan. His words had strengthened her then, and pushed her to carry out her task without indulging doubts, but they had brought little comfort in her time at Barren Flats. Regardless, Najla had survived without such comfort, and if it had not been for the memory of her brother, she was certain her time there would have become a bare memory.

[i]<“You’ve only ever come to me when you need something.”>[/i]

Najla laughed at that, still walking alongside Tahir as they moved across the halls. [i]<“Why do I need to visit, when you come to the palace so frequently?”>[/i]

[i]<“I thought you’d come more frequently ever since father gave me the Servant, you aren’t curious as to how your former master fares?”>[/i]

Najla wasn’t curious. In fact, she had known that she’d likely see Ketill again upon her visit here, and it had been a deterrent more than anything. It had taken some time, but Najla was gaining back all that she had lost, and more, and felt as if her life could finally continue. Ketill was a reminder of a time when all that had been taken from her. She had given him his life, and though Tahir admitted he had been a difficult slave to handle, Najla assumed he was being treated fairly regardless. She had asked for mercy after all, and had done all that she could to make sure it was given to him, and as such, Najla cared little as to the rest of Ketill’s fate. 

Still, it seemed she’d see it regardless. Tahir guided her through the halls and she followed him through a door to the courtyard, as he explained quickly that he’d assigned Ketill here today. For a moment, Najla wanted to ask him to wait, at least until she’d shaken off the dust of travel, but it seemed Tahir thought she’d be eager to gloat, and pulled her along into the courtyard, where she halted.

At first, Najla couldn’t understand what she was seeing, though Tahir’s words had left her with a sinking feeling as to who it was. She could only see a body under three others, desperately fighting back amidst far too many blows. However, all it took was a shout from Tahir, and the slavemaster and the guards fell back, revealing the figure in the center.

[i]<“You shouldn’t have seen this Najla-”>[/i]

Tahir continued to apologize formally, as if Najla hadn’t seen worse, followed with an explanation as to how unruly the Servant could be. Najla did not hear him. She could only see the figure of a man she had once feared, which had been beaten into something near unrecognizable. It was not as if the tattoos on his forehead had changed, or that his chest had not been covered with scars before, but he was no longer a figure that would intimidate her. Not that he was suddenly weaker than her, not even in this condition, but he looked like a shadow of the man she had met. Whatever mercy Najla had called for, it had not been this.

She stared upon him in horror for the briefest of moments, but perhaps that expression would be wiped from her face by the time Ketill would look up to see her. Najla could not have imagined what had happened to him in the year that he had been year, but whatever it was, she knew she had sentenced him to it, thinking it would be a mercy. It made her uneasy to consider it, and that sensation would settle into a pit at her stomach.

[i]<“It’s quite alright Tahir.”>[/i] It seemed Najla had recovered from her surprise some, and dragged her gaze back up to her cousin. Reaching out, she took his arm, a signal that she was done here. She would not spare Ketill another gaze just yet, but she would not forget his face now. [i]<“I have no desire to speak to the Servant, only you. Come, we have much to discuss.”>[/i]

[hr]

After she was given a chance to change after her journey, Najla joined her cousin and his first wife, as well as her nieces and nephews, where she spoke to them as if Ketill’s image had fled her memory. Yet even as she leaned back among the cushions, holding her young niece as the girl tried to peel some fruit, Najla had not forgotten. She felt slightly foolish for believing that Ketill would be treated mercifully, though Najla wondered just how much of it was his fault. Tahir had spoken of how difficult Ketill was to control (only to her, for he wished to save face in front of visitors), which was hardly surprising to Najla. She had seen it for herself, after all.

[i]But to set three men on one? And for what purpose?[/i] He was weak, clearly underfed, it was simply excessive. Perhaps his mouth had gotten him into trouble after all, but Najla did not want to imagine what worse could have happened to him. She would ask Tahir later, when his children and wife were no longer among them, but not here. They spoke of pleasantries here, and it was only after dinner that Tahir and Najla opted to speak privately once more. There, Najla told him first of her plans with Osman, immediately preparing to soften his doubts. 

[i]<“Najla- Is this truly what you want? What of your other suitors, you do know we can arrange far better matches for you?”>

<“Yes, you’ll use my story to impress some irritating warlord and you’ll remove a nasty thorn in your side while I rot in his tent.”>

<“Are you angry with me?”>

<“Not with you cousin, but I’m no fool, I know this is what happens. I would do it if you asked, Tahir. I’m just asking you not to.”>[/i]

[i]<“Najla, I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to. It’s not a bad match- He is an advisor to the Sultan after all, it’s not as if you’re asking to marry a slaver. But to be his second wife? Would you be happy?”>[/i]

[i]<“Why Tahir, is Aisha miserable?”>[/i] Najla spoke this with a smile, making it clear to Tahir that she was not trying to be harsh. While some of her anger had been difficult to control before, she was asking him for a favor, and remembered that rather swiftly. [i]<“I love him, Tahir. Just as Aisha loves you. Please, at least consider it.”>[/i]

He would consider it, and Najla and Tahir would continue to speak for some time. The conversation did not remain quite as heavy as when it started, for Tahir soon brought out all the luxuries that occupied the time of the Sultan’s court, and Najla indulged with her cousin. They drank wine that had been gifted from one tribe, and smoked charas from another, and as Tahir had shed his doubts rather early, they found they had plenty of time for lighter talk, until Najla found an opportunity to ask for yet another favor.

[i]<“I suppose I should set about getting you a wedding gift then. You’ve never been shy about what you want, why not just tell me? If I got you a new horse, would you visit more?”>[/i]

Najla laughed at that, shaking her head. [i]<“Cousin, after you have done me such a favor, I doubt I shall ever leave your house again.”>[/i] She took a brief pause then, before meeting Tahir’s gaze. While her state of mind was definitely hazy, Najla had thought about this since she had seen his face, and knew full well what she was asking. [i]<“But if you must, why don’t you give me the Servant?”>[/i]

[i]<“You want him?”>[/i]

Najla shrugged at that. They would speak on the matter for some time after, but Najla was quickly surprised to see how easily Tahir would be convinced. She had thought that he’d want to keep a prized slave, but apparently the thought of presenting her with a newly tamed Servant before the court was a tantalizing notion for him. He spoke to her thoroughly of how unruly the Servant was, worried for her safety apparently, but Najla assured him that Ketill was mostly intended as a boost to her reputation, and that she would not be in danger. Najla would never chastise Tahir for his mistreatment of Ketill, though the notion had never left her mind. It would be of little help if she did so, yet Najla felt as if her promise of mercy had been broken by another, and it was not a pleasant notion.

Finally, Tahir would agree. While Najla was surprised at how quickly he had warmed up to the idea, the surprise faded whenever he asked for something in return. All she had to do was recommend to her father that one of Tahir’s brother-in-law’s be moved up the ranks of the guard a little faster. It was a matter that the Sultan could have handled easily, but Tahir would not be able to ask his father for such a proposition. Her father was typically a man beyond corruption, which Najla had always found amusing given how his daughter had turned out, but she knew that Harith would be able to persuade her father, and that she’d be able to persuade Harith. Without hesitation, she agreed, and in the span of one night, she’d taken control of Ketill’s life once more.

[hr] 

She would see him again the next morning. After taking breakfast with Tahir and his family, Tahir would escort her to the slave quarters, where Ketill was being kept. Najla was relieved to see that his decision had held up in his sobriety as well, though this relief would not last. She knew she was upset at Tahir for how he had treated Ketill during his time here, and what her cousin had told her the night before had been enough to make her want to make sure her promise was being fulfilled. Still, Najla had been doing a good job of keeping her emotions in line. Within one night, she’d gotten Tahir to promise to recommend the match to his father, and been granted her former master back to her. It seemed to her that Tahir would not mind so long as she kept up that Tahir was the one who’d broken a Servant, and Najla had no intentions of claiming otherwise. 

The consequences of her actions had not been lost on her, but Najla knew she was willing to endure them. Her uncle would be easily sated, for he’d believe that Tahir had tamed him. Her family would not care too much, but Najla had not considered what Osman would think. It hardly mattered, it wasn’t as if she was about to change her mind yet. Najla only knew that she had asked for the mercy he gave her, and that promise had been broken by her dearest cousin. 

When they approached, Najla asked her cousin for a moment alone, though the slavemasters and guards who were already there would remain. It wasn’t as if they’d be able to understand a word she said regardless. As Tahir allowed them a small moment, Najla eyed Ketill up and down briefly. She knew she was likely one of the last people he’d want to see, and probably blamed her for the state of his life as of now, but Najla intended to carry out her promise.

[i]“This is not the mercy I wanted for you.”[/i] After a year, it was the closest she’d ever spoken to an apology, and perhaps would be the closest she ever got. Her accent was far thicker, and though she still used the words formally, it was obvious that she had not found much use for the Broacien tongue in the year she'd been apart from Ketill.

Najla was quiet for a moment then, likely to give Ketill time to reply. It wasn’t as if he had much of a choice now, for she was offering him no bargain. No matter what his response, or his actions, he’d be brought back to the palace with her as an early engagement present. Her quick explanation was the only warning he’d receive, much as it had been when she was first offered to Ketill.

[i]“I asked for your life a year ago, but it has just now been granted to me. These will be your last few days here. Since you are mine now, I want you to recover from your injuries, so you will be given no duties just yet- I don't know what I’m going to do with you, but I have no interest in causing you harm.”[/i] Najla found herself smiling slightly, with little humor in her expression. Ketill would likely grow even more upset at the circumstances of how she came to get ahold of him, as his ‘rescue’ would come from her happiness. [i]“You are an early wedding gift, after all.”[/i]

[/quote]