The moment the two clones vanish into thin air. Jibril removes her towel and reclines onto the bed, "Ugh just great might as well see him tomorrow" she rolls her eyes in her sockets. "Maybe i can ask him for info on Sou'jure, it could help me when i leave to find Hana'he" She sighs to herself, getting off the bed and walks on over to her wardrobe to find something to wear to bed. "And i was gonna have fun with the family! Better head in early so i can wake up bright and early. This sucks!" she says until she opens her eyes to a large parcel gift wrapped inside her wardrobe with a letter inside. What's this? She looks at the contents and pulls out some underwear: three different sized cotton panties, a strange contraption that looks like that it's suppose to hold up her perky breasts, a pair of leather ankle boots reminiscent to the Victorian style ankle boots, a yellow sundress for casual wear and a black leather corset. Jibril is delighted to see her new clothes but then she remembered the letter the parcel came with and went to read it:
"Dear Jibril, I went to the market earlier today and found this dress and thought of you. I don't know very much about women's clothing but i thought i should purchase you some lady's wears as well,to which i hope at least one of them fits you. Karin suggested this 'brassiere' thing to me, supposedly this thing is suppose to help support your breasts and went ahead and purchased one while there is one left to buy. I'm told these luxury items are quite popular here and i think they should go nicely with your new corset which was something i wanted to see you try the next time we have a moment ... alone. Karlya went with me, a very awkward request much to my embarrassment. I don't know how i convinced myself to ask her for help with all things considered, i felt out of my element when it came to fine wears of the feminine variety but she was very helpful in suggesting a good pair of shoes. It saddened me to see you walking around bare footed and no woman of mine is going to be walking around like a pauper! No ma'am! Only the finest clothes for the love in my life. I'll be thinking of you when we see each other next time."
~ Kor'da Slavenclaw ~
"Aww, he sent me a dress" Jibril says to herself with a warming embrace, pulling the dress free from the packaging and flourishes out of the bag and walks over to the standing mirror in her room. Laying the sundress over her Nagini body and fanning out the skirt, it was beautiful. It was more vibrant yellow with floral design and slim, just she is with a corp top between her shoulders and neckline with short sleeves. Jibril looked at herself in the mirror and sees her amber colored eyes and pair of horns atop of her head the human-like features of her face and the freckling heat pits on her cheeks and dark lips. Staring at herself in the mirror, she felt oddly like this was out of place for her. She had always been accustomed to wearing a uniform of some kind, looked to be thuggish when the need arises, and she had always been poor even under Silverman's banner as his hired goon. She lowers the dress and drops it onto the bed and looks back into the mirror once more without her body being covered up. Seeing herself without anything to cover herself, she runs her fingers through the many scars on her arms, shoulders, chest and abdomen, the missing scales where a bad shed couldn't fix. These were her scars, her memories of the fights she's won and lost, these are what make her unique.
So far from the desert; so far from Medressa's sandstone bricked streets, the cold, dry air, the smell of cooking spices and salted pork and beef from the street food, the chattering of the bazaar she use to visit and wander around. Back then she was just a young girl looking back to her mother who held her hand firmly as they walked the marketplace. Jibril looked up to her mother's covered up facial veil and the Sultan's guards patrol by them as they make for one of their guard posts nearest to the market plaza. A tall midnight robed man approached Jibril's mother and the golden band crowning on his forehead marked him as a Vizier, beisde him stood a man in a royal guardsman uniform with hand on his scimitar and prehensile tail coiling around his feet, his facial features are very masculine and chiseled with heat pits lining his upper lip like a trimmed mustache and equally bright amber eyes looking down at Jibril. With a smile across his face, Jibril rose her arms up to the blurring visage of the man she called father picking her up and tossing her up into the air with glee, her laughter drowning out her memory.
Jibril stops, the memories of her family hurt her the most. Her hand instinctively rose up to her face and catches a few drops of her tears covering her palm. This pain she felt was an old wound, a scar that will never fade, but the harder she tries to remember the faces of her father and mother the aching pain in her heart soured and hurts. She stops trying to force herself to remember what they even look like anymore. She must forget them, she has a duty to the royal family to fulfill her pilgrimage. She's learned what she can in the years leading up to this moment, she will have to one day return to Medressa and answer the call of the Vizier and tell him all that she had witnessed. Maybe one day, Jibril may learn the fate of her father and mother.
Jibril hears a knock on the door, snapping her out of the trance of old memories. She cautiously approached the door. "Who is it?" she listens carefully. She hears Kor'da's voice, "It's me. Are you alright? You've been gone all day." Jibril opens the door and holds the towel over her body instinctively.
"Sorry" she apologized, wiping the tears off her face, "I was just with Draco and Shimbala. We were patching things up when we were out, i sorta lost track of time and came back to my room."
Kor'da noticed that Jibril was crying, "Were you ... crying just now?" Jibril assured him that it wasn't what he thinks, "No! No, I was just happy about the clothes you bought for me!"
Kor'da gives her a delighted smile, "I'm glad you like them! I was worried that they wouldn't fit."
"Actually, I haven't tried them on" Jibril confesses, "I was going to come by your room to spend time with the kids, but ... um, it seems I've been summoned to a meeting by the president tomorrow so i-"
Kor'da pressed her lips and assured her with a confidence she hadn't seen from him.
"Shhhh. It's okay, I understand. You aren't going to hurt my feelings if you have your own business to settle, we owe him a great deal for this, it would be rude of us to bite the offering hand"
"I suppose" Jibril says discomforted by the thought, "Can i ask you something?"
"Of course" Kor'da says.
"Are you ... happy ... with me?" Jibril says, confidence waning.
Kor'da is startled, but not at all surpraised by her question.He rubs the back of his head and scratching his thick leafy green scales.
"We've had our rough patches. We've said some things we don't mean" Kor'da says confidently but not shaken by the thought, "I've had time to come to terms with how things have been between us and our dealings with Kane. You're just now coming to terms with this on your own, it wasn't easy for me to accept that. You're the strongest woman I've met, independent, fierce, brave and bold. The qualities i sorely lacked until i met you, you've brought out the best in me. You still accepted me and my failings when i am at my lowest point, how can i not do the same for you?"
"But are you happy that I'm your wife?" Jibril asked, voice breaking.
"What's gotten into you? Of course i am!" Kor'da tells her.
Kor'da forces himself into her room and closes the door behind him with Jibril walking away with the towel covering her and rubbing her eye, fighting back the tears.
"I don't know" Jibril tells him, "I just don't know what to do anymore"
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks her with a hand raising to touch her shoulder.
"I thought i had all the answers" Jibril gives a sad chuckle, "I trained to face the worst kinds of people, traveled so far from everything i knew on orders from my Sultan. But then I, lost myself. I had all these plans, but everything seems to never go my way and i hate it!"
Jibril throws her towel towards the wardrobe and storms for the bed and continues to sulk on the edge with her hands on her face. Kor'da rushes by his wife's side and ropes his arms around her to comfort her.
"That's just how things are, nothing ever goes according to plan" Kor'da assures her, "You fought through it and look at where we are! We're finally here, our new home!"
"You don't get it" Jibril tells him, "I didn't plan for this"
"Plan for what?" Kor'da looks into her eyes trying to understand what she's so upset about.
Jibril's eyes are glossed over with a film of tears when she looks into his eyes: "I didn't plan on being happy"
The weight on her heart is balanced on a scale: a scale for her devotion to her life as a pilgrim and duty to the Sultan; a scale for her new life and new love to which she must come to terms with. With the valuable information of her time in the outside world this has granted Jibril a chance to return home to the Medressa, but in doing so: she will leave everything behind and unable to return. The life of a Pilgrim Guardsman is one of devotion to the Sultan and his edicts of isolationism, outsiders are forbidden to enter the city and those that defy the laws are executed and those pilgrims that return must honor their oaths to the Sultan's Will and remain in service to the royalty even in death.
[One day, Jibril will have to face the reality that she will have to make the hardest decisions. One of which will be whom does she belong to? An oath is a sacred thing, one that must be obligated but does she have it in her heart to break that oath to live the life with her new family? Only time will tell.]
Kor'da cradled Jibril in his arms and both of them laid on the bed, he stroked her head and held her close to his chest, not letting go of her as she weeps herself to sleep. Kor'da throws a blanket over himself and Jibril as they sleep together in silence as the night passes over them.
Morning of the Fourth Day:
Jibril awakens to her face wedged between Kor'da's pectoral muscles and the dampness of her tears staining his scales, her eyes are barely opened when she hears his heart beating inside his chest and the air flowing into his lungs and coming out is low hisses of a deep slumber, his tail tucked between their legs, he holds her tightly and refuses to budge. Jibril doesn't fight it, she's firmly pressed up against him with her forearms resting on his smooth scales and hers warmed by their bodies and the blankets over them. This bed is so soft and welcoming, like a cotton cocoon enveloping her the musk of his body is inviting given how extraordinarily clean he is,she can taste the olive and oak scent on him. Her head rests under his chin and hands caressing her lower back and shoulder like he's protecting her from the pain one may inflict on her. Sleeping like this, it's a sign someone is unable to cope with loss and unable to let go of something so precious. To be held in such a way is endearing and affectionate, to be the center of this one's attention is the purest sign of love in a tender embrace. Jibril doesn't want this to end, the eggs in her womb shift and move. She's blushing under her veiled face as Kor'da holds her so close, she presses her belly up against his and stirs Kor'da to reach down to rub her side and down her leg. He inhales deeply and exhales with a soft hiss from his snout.
She could take advantage of this, if she wants to.