{"id":1735,"date":"2012-09-09T10:50:01","date_gmt":"2012-09-09T10:50:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/?p=1735"},"modified":"2012-09-09T10:50:01","modified_gmt":"2012-09-09T10:50:01","slug":"fic-life-worth-living-part-46-hl-richieoc","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/?p=1735","title":{"rendered":"Fic: Life Worth Living part 4\/6 (HL, Richie\/OC)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Did you know that before you came into my life
\nIt was some kind of miracle that I survived
\nSomeday we both will look back and have to laugh
\nWe lived through a lifetime and the aftermath
\n–Billy Joel, “This is the Time”<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Then David said to Nathan, “I have sinned against the Lord.”
\nNathan replied, “The Lord has taken away your sin. You are not going to die.”
\n–2 Samuel 12:13<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Chaya’s house
\nEarly morning, two months later <\/strong><\/p>\n

“Having trouble sleeping?” The voice caught his ear at about the same time as the buzz assaulted his senses, the combination soothing the moment of panic that either one by itself could have inspired.<\/p>\n

Richie turned to her, taking a few seconds to force his breathing to slow from the workout before replying. “I had a nightmare,” he confirmed. “I don’t know why I came down here–in some ways, this reminds me too much of…what happened.”<\/p>\n

Chaya took a few steps into the basement room she’d converted into a gym, her green satin bathrobe making the softest of rustles as she moved. “Maybe because the dream also reminds you to keep in practice,” she suggested softly.<\/p>\n

The younger Immortal turned to frown at the sword in his hand. “Yeah, I guess it does,” he admitted.<\/p>\n

“Would you like a sparring partner?” she offered.<\/p>\n

Richie shrugged. “Sure. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your sword.”<\/p>\n

She laughed. “That’s because I try to avoid having to use it. Just give me a moment to slip into something more appropriate for swordplay, and I’ll be right back.”<\/p>\n

He nodded and went back to his exercise while she disappeared. When he felt the buzz again a few minutes later, he turned to find her wearing a pair of black leggings with a long, white tank top over a leotard of the same rich dark green as the bathrobe, a color that made her hair gleam brighter red than usual. She smiled at his unconscious appraisal of her, returning it with a deliberation that brought a flush to his cheeks and made him wish he was a little more nicely dressed and less sweaty.<\/p>\n

“I realize that most Immortals aren’t going to allow their opponent to slip into exercise clothes before challenging them,” she stated casually, ignoring his discomfort. “But I like to be comfortable when I play at least.”<\/p>\n

Richie just grinned in response, bobbing his eyebrows in a playful, slightly suggestive manner and Chaya laughed again.<\/p>\n

She was carrying a sword unlike any he’d ever seen before. It was a short, thick blade, no more than a foot and a half in length, with a groove running down the center. The closest thing to it that he could recall was a Roman gladius he’d seen once on display in a museum, but the design did not really match that sword either. The crosspiece of the hilt was molded in the shape of two lions with their mouths opened in a roar, and the pommel was an angular-faced man with a tightly curled beard.<\/p>\n

“Where did you get that?” he asked.<\/p>\n

She looked at it with an odd somberness in her eyes. “I took it from a Babylonian general who wanted to rape me, after breaking my own sword teaching him a lesson in manners.”<\/p>\n

Richie whistled. “How’d you make it last this long?”<\/p>\n

“With good care, almost anything can weather the centuries. Even a sword…” Her lips quirked upward into a smile. “Or an Immortal.” Chaya nodded towards him. “Ready?”<\/p>\n

“As I’ll ever be.”<\/p>\n

******<\/p>\n

“Richie!” <\/em><\/p>\n

He kept swinging desperately, ignoring the voice in his mind in favor of a louder one screaming at him of Mac’s betrayal.<\/p>\n

The haze of anger and fear dissolved into pure terror as he suddenly felt the hilt of the rapier wrenched from his hands. No! <\/em><\/p>\n

“Richie!!”<\/p>\n

The voice finally broke through and Richie’s eyes snapped up, focusing in horror on Chaya’s face where she stood several feet away from him, her sword lowered to her side and her eyes fixed on him with concern.<\/p>\n

God, what had he done? He’d been so blinded by the fear and anger that he’d completely lost control! If she hadn’t been a better swordsman than him…he might have taken her head without even realizing it.<\/p>\n

Just like MacLeod had almost done to him.<\/p>\n

“Chaya…oh, God..!” Ducking down to retrieve his sword, he began to back away from her.<\/p>\n

“Richie–”<\/p>\n

“I’m sorry,” he vowed desperately. “I’m so sorry.”<\/p>\n

Choking back bile at what he had almost done, Richie turned and fled, Chaya still calling his name after him.<\/p>\n

******<\/p>\n

Like teacher like student, huh? <\/em><\/p>\n

Shut up!<\/em> Richie scolded himself, leaning forward on his bike and gunning the engine even more. His wayward thoughts refused to listen though, as Chaya’s face rose before him in his mind like a ghost.<\/p>\n

He shivered. Bad analogy.<\/p>\n

She hadn’t been afraid, that was the shocking thing. Meeting her liquid chocolate eyes had only shown him her concern…for him. She’d never for a moment felt the cold terror that had washed over him when Mac had come after him…either time.<\/p>\n

Why the hell not? <\/em><\/p>\n

That question did laps in his mind as he drove, while the rest of his thoughts grew more and more morose. Maybe it would have been better if Mac had killed him. The Highlander had taken a Dark Quickening–at least that was more of an excuse than *he* had. It hadn’t made the hurt any less, but it sure made him feel like a criminal.<\/p>\n

Chaya didn’t deserve to have to deal with his screwed up excuse for a psyche. No one did.<\/p>\n

He slowed as his eyes caught the neon sign of a bar proclaiming “Delila’s” against the weak morning light. Maybe he could just pick up where he’d left off the night Chaya had found him. And maybe this time, things would come full circle back to where they were before Joe had pulled that trigger and saved his worthless neck.<\/p>\n

Biting his lip, he pulled into the parking lot. The place wasn’t open yet, but he could wait.<\/p>\n

******<\/p>\n

Several hours later… <\/strong><\/p>\n

Her lips pinched together tightly, Chaya pressed her foot down a little harder on the accelerator, picking up speed as her eyes continued to sweep the streets looking for a young man on a motorcycle.<\/p>\n

Please let me find him, Rabbi Y’shua,<\/em> she prayed, her hands tightening on the wheel. Give me something, anything to guide me. <\/em><\/p>\n

After several more minutes of fruitless searching, the something she had asked for speared through her mind: the telltale signature of an Immortal presence.<\/p>\n

Gunning the engine to a level it was clearly unaccustomed to, she followed the trail, her lips moving all the time in a caravan of silent prayers for the safety of her young guest.<\/p>\n

She pulled up alongside the dock just in time to see him fall to his knees, head bowed under the dual weight of a Quickening and his own guilt. Parking, she saw his head come up as the awareness of her presence registered in his mind. He staggered to his feet, clutching the rapier tightly in the wrong hand and looking around with a wild expression. When she stepped out of the car and he saw her, he took a step back towards the water.<\/p>\n

“Don’t,” she pleaded softly, holding one hand out to him in invitation. “Please, Richie, don’t run.”<\/p>\n

“It happened again,” Richie whispered numbly. “I was gonna let him win, if he wasn’t better than me. But I couldn’t stop. In spite of everything, I wanted to live so badly…” He lifted his eyes to hers, filled with pain and confusion. “Why weren’t you afraid?”<\/p>\n

“Because I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”<\/p>\n

He nodded. “Because I could never beat you.”<\/p>\n

“No,” she contradicted him softly. “Because it’s not who you are. I may not have known you long, George, but I do know that much.”<\/p>\n

Richie looked down at the body beside him, the gesture a silent question.<\/p>\n

“You could never betray a friend,” she clarified. “You don’t have it in you.”<\/p>\n

She stepped forward. “I’m not saying what you did was right. It wasn’t. But we all do things that are wrong, that’s no reason to stop living. I was lucky–when I tried to kill myself, I turned out to be Immortal. Most people don’t get a second chance to discover that life is worth living…please don’t waste it.”<\/p>\n

The younger man’s eyes met hers in surprise. “You tried to kill yourself?”<\/p>\n

Chaya nodded with a sad smile. “That’s how I died the first time.”<\/p>\n

Richie sighed deeply, remembering the first battle he’d ever fought as an Immortal. Then, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to finish the fight. He’d given Annie Devlin her life then, but he’d changed. Two months ago, he’d sworn never to be merciful again. But that was before he’d met Chaya, before she’d stood here offering him a new, more potent definition of mercy.<\/p>\n

“I can’t bring him back,” he acknowledged ruefully.<\/p>\n

“No. But there is something you can do.”<\/p>\n

“What?”<\/p>\n

“Let the memory change you, make it so this can’t happen again.”<\/p>\n

“I wish there was a way to end it, all the fighting.”<\/p>\n

“Yeah, I know. So do I.”<\/p>\n

She closed the last bit of distance between them and laid a comforting hand on his arm. Her eyes drifted to the head lying on the ground a foot or so away from the body, and a little gasp unexpectedly escaped her throat.<\/p>\n

Almost hidden beneath a mass of dirty-blond curls was face that still hung in her memory, even after more than four centuries.<\/p>\n

****** <\/em><\/p>\n

Turkey, 1539 <\/strong>
\n<\/em><\/p>\n

The young man lifted the tent flap and entered, carrying a small bowl in one hand. “Are you hungry?” he asked. <\/em><\/p>\n

Chaya had been scooting across the floor towards her sword when she felt the other Immortal. She now turned to him with daggered eyes. “I don’t know. What would your friend’s beloved Sultan say if his prize new slave died of starvation within her first days in his palace?” she spat at him. <\/em><\/p>\n

He regarded her with a curious eye. “You’d really go so far just to escape the life of a concubine?” <\/em><\/p>\n

“I would do anything to escape that life,” she replied with deadly quietness in her voice. “My faith forbids it. I will never be part of a harem again. Not even for another Shlomo.” <\/em><\/p>\n

****** <\/em><\/p>\n

“Oh, God, you knew him, didn’t you?” the young man asked miserably.<\/p>\n

She nodded with a sad smile. “Yes, but not as well as I knew his teacher. And you needn’t worry–we traveled together for a while, but I wouldn’t call either of them a friend.”<\/p>\n

“I’m sorry, Mac. I know he was your friend.”<\/em> God, how many times had he said that to his former teacher? Enough so that it felt rote by the time they parted ways.<\/p>\n

He shivered. Let’s not think about that right now, okay?<\/em> “Well, that’s a relief at least,” he stated lamely.<\/p>\n

Chaya’s eyes moved slowly upwards to connect with his, the intensity in them startling him almost as much as it had only hours ago in her gym. “It shouldn’t be,” she told him with a sigh. “Because Haresh will come looking for you. And when he does, it will take a master to survive.”<\/p>\n

Richie swore. “Which I’m not.”<\/p>\n

Aren’t you?<\/em> The older Immortal studied him with a curious expression in her eyes. “Well, I guess we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?”<\/p>\n

“You’ll teach me?”<\/p>\n

“No. But I’ll help you learn.”<\/p>\n

“What’s the difference?”<\/p>\n

She smiled. “It’s semantic, but teaching someone implies you have some sort of authority over them. Whereas helping you learn leaves us on equal footing, as we have been to this point.”<\/p>\n

Oh. Okay. <\/em><\/p>\n

“Besides which,” she smiled. “How many Immortals do you know who teach their students how to defeat them?”<\/p>\n

****** <\/em><\/p>\n

Egypt, 926 BC <\/strong>
\n<\/em><\/p>\n

“Stop it! Stop pushing me so hard! How can I learn what you haven’t taught me?” <\/em><\/p>\n

Bedwas sighed, meeting the burning dark eyes of his student. “Chaya, I have taught you everything I know. If you ever want to be able to defeat me, you must begin to develop your own techniques. Notice what I do, and figure out ways to get around it.” <\/em><\/p>\n

The young Israelite woman shook her head, one auburn curl wiggling loose from the cord that tied her hair back. “That’s silly. Why would I ever want to defeat you?” <\/em><\/p>\n

Her tutor regarded her with sober eyes. “So that you’ll be able to defeat anyone better than I who challenges you.” <\/em><\/p>\n

That stopped her. The anger faded from her eyes and she raised them again to him, now thoughtful. “Do…do all Immortals teach that?” <\/em><\/p>\n

“No. There is a danger inherent in giving others the power to beat you. A danger that someone will twist that gift back upon you and take your head…” <\/em><\/p>\n

“So why do you care?” she asked softly. <\/em><\/p>\n

Bedwas brought a hand to her face and traced it with one finger that was still strangely pale, despite long exposure to the desert sun. “Because I want to see you survive, My Life…even if I don’t.” <\/em><\/p>\n

She stepped back. Even though it had been twelve years, she still pulled away from his touch, unable to shake the fear that still overwhelmed her longing for him. The older man sighed again. <\/em><\/p>\n

“I’m sorry, Bedwas,” she whispered. <\/em><\/p>\n

“It’s all right. Maybe someday.” He stepped back and lifted his blade once again. “But in the meantime, give me the gift of knowing you will live to see a million somedays.” <\/em><\/p>\n

****** <\/em><\/p>\n

“How can you take that risk?” Richie asked her, his voice oddly subdued.<\/p>\n

“Because I want to see you survive, My Life…even if I don’t.” <\/em><\/p>\n

“Because I trust you.” I trust you as I never trusted Haresh or Carter, even after I forgave them for what they did to me.<\/em><\/p>\n

He shuddered. Yeah, well, I trusted Mac too. I trusted him more than anyone.<\/em> “But what if…” He took a deep breath that shook his whole body. “What if I betray that trust? What if I…lose it again?”<\/p>\n

Chaya took his free hand in hers and squeezed his fingers tightly. “You won’t.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Did you know that before you came into my life It was some kind of miracle that I survived Someday we both will look back and have to laugh We lived through a lifetime and the aftermath –Billy Joel, “This … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[158,200,593],"tags":[113,153,596,528,193,595,150,203,594,436,123,229,527],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1735"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1735"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1735\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1736,"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1735\/revisions\/1736"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1735"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1735"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/azar.ink-and-quill.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1735"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}