Prompt# 174 - Mambo - At This Pace - Tekia - original

[tekia.livejournal.com]

Title: At This Pace
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Mambo
Warnings: none.
Rating: G
Summary: Searching for the truth leads one into strange situations.

Najida held a hand to her head as pain blossomed behind her eyes. She clinched her eyes closed and bit back a moan. A pair of strong, warm arms wrapped around her from behind and she leaned back into his embrace without thinking about it. His grip tightened around her and she could feel Sayda’s chin come to rest on her shoulder.
She cursed under her breath and felt him smile.
“Very lady like.”
“Shush, you.”
He chuckled and one hand was removed from her waist as he reached for his sword, still attached to his hip. He easily held her with one arm and pulled her to one side to better protect her. “When the cloud disperses, duck to the left and get out of the way.”
“You’ll be careful?”
Around them the cloud of dark smoke swirled with angry waves. Najida’s grip on his arm tightened as she turned her face toward his, touching her lips to his. “I hate this part.”
“I know. Soon we won’t have to do this.” His jaw firmed and he blinked his eyes open against the cloud. “Soon we’ll find that damn prophet and then we can go home.”
She dared to open her eyes, and instantly they watered. “Home?”
Before he could answer, the cloud cleared and there they were. She slipped to one side, dropping to her knees and peering around the room they found themselves in.
There was a strange rhythm coming out from behind walls and there was also the low murmur of laugher. Sayda frowned and his hand tightened around the hilt of the sword.
“Is that music?”
Najida nodded and carefully gathered her feet under her. She rested a hand on his back as she stood. “I think we’re in a cloak room.” She reached out and snagged a fur coat. “We’re at a party,” she said with a soft laugh.
She stepped around Sayda and he hissed at her, reaching for the soft fabric of her trousers. “Careful, woman. How did you survive without me?”
She laughed, a carefree sound that never ceased to bring a smile to Sayda’s lips. He stood, slipping his sword back into its sheath and following her to the door. Before she could open it, his hand shot out and pulled her away. With a wry look at her, he cracked the door open just enough to allow a thin stream of light to pour into the dark cloak room. He peered out and nodded to himself before fully opening the door and slipping out. A moment later, his hand returned and motioned for her to follow.
Smiling, Najida followed and crept forward, her fingers tagging onto his shirt. “It’s a party.”
“It’s still dangerous for us. Who knows who’s here?”
“Partiers?”
He slanted her a look that she only smiled at and he rolled his eyes. She walked around him and pointed down the hall. “There’s the ballroom.” Then she began walking in that direction.
“Najida!” She didn’t look back at him and he cursed before chasing after her. He caught up with her just as she leaned over the short wall separating the hall from the ballroom several feet below. She folded her arms on the wall and leaned over, watching the people dancing.
“Isn’t it beautiful? There’re like butterflies.” He came to stand beside her and rested a hand on the small of her back.
“They’re they royal court.”
Najida hissed, her shoulders hunching in sudden fear. “Maybe we should leave.”
“No, I don’t think so. That prophet may be here.”
Her eyes turned up to him, wide. “You think he’s a noble?”
Sayda nodded and never took his eyes from the swirling mass of colors. “From your visions, he seems to be. How else could he have such command over the fate of this world?”
She thought about it for a moment then nodded. “Alright. Now what?” He grabbed her hand and led her away from the wall, down the stairs and into the crowd. As soon as her foot hit the ground floor, her eyes widened. “What? This?”
“Let’s dance and mingle.”
“No.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder and smiled. Flushing, Najida turned her eyes to her feet. He pulled her closer and slipped his arm around her waist once again. “You’re afraid,” he said with no little wonder.
“I can’t dance.”
“Just a little dancing. Not much.”
“I don’t want to.”
Just then a man jumped in front of Sayda and smiled, a dimple showing in his cheek. “Sir, may I have take the lady for a spin?”
Sayda raised a brow and then grinned. He turned back to Najida and gently pulled her forward. “She would love to.”
“Say-” she hissed, whipping her head about to glare at him as the stranger took her hand and led her onto the floor. Sayda waved his fingers at her as she glared daggers at him.
Then she turned back to the man now pulling her onto the dance floor. She smiled softly at him, the edges of her smile turning brittle. “Don’t expect no mamba from me.”
His brow curved in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”
She firmly planted a real smile on her lips. “I’m sorry, something from my homeland. A waltz is it?”
The music had picked up and she felt a moment of panic as her mind went blank. In school they had had lessons, but now it all had left her. Then his arm slid around her waist, the same space that Sayda would place his arm and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to remember. Her smile softened again and she let the music sweep her away.
After the dance another man quickly stepped in, whisking her into another round and she laughed happily, suddenly drunk on the atmosphere of the party.
Sayda spent a long moment watching the strange girl dance as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Sometimes he envied her her ability to forget all of her worries and live in the moment. He sorely wished he could forget his.
Then he shook his head and pressed back from the crowd and touched his back to the wall between the pools of light from two distance candles. Shadows, his friends. He closed his eyes and fell into the shadow to begin his search.