Desert Rose (Haruka Nanase x Reader, Arabian!AU)

It was the crack of dawn when you woke up from your deep slumber.  Quietly groaning, you slowly opened your eyes and tried to adjust your vision to the morning light by blinking a few times and rubbing your eyes.  Once they were fully functioning, they immediately shifted to the little window not far from you, and saw the sky dancing in pink and yellow, greeting the sun with their beautiful shades and hues.  A few clouds were rolling up as well, looking as if they were uncertain of their place up there in the vast sky. A group of birds crossed the sky, flying and cawing in the same time.

Watching this scene, an appreciative sigh escaped your lips.  You loved the early mornings, since they were quiet and serene, and gave you some kind of unexplainable feeling of protection, knowing that you were already awake, while the people in the nearby village were most probably still sleeping.

But today was not one of those days when you could just stay in bed a few more minutes to enjoy the peace and sunrise, and realizing this made you quietly whine in your pillow again.  

You felt dizzy and tired, and every muscle in your body seemed to pull you back in to your little bed.  And that was saying something, considering that said object wasn’t even that comfortable, but it was better than sleeping on the cold and sandy ground, so you weren’t complaining.

Although, you were complaining about your aching body.   For the last week you were helping out an old merchant at the bazaar with selling goods and such, helping to carry and organize crates filled with expensive rarities most probably imported from a rich, mediterranean country.   The old merchant’s wife fell ill, and thus being left with no one, he practically begged you to help him out.   You didn’t have the heart to say no.   And it’s not like you did not get highly paid in exchange, so if anything, the money was worth it.

The only downside to it was the long, gruesome hours of work with carrying and opening heavy, wooden crates in the strong heat of the desert.  And just when you were looking forward to a relaxing weekend, you came to realize that you had neglected your chores around your house.

 Living alone in a small hut had its perks, of course, but it also had its downsides.  And even though you long before constructed a routine like schedule for tending to your house, this all got forgotten when you accepted to help the old merchant.

It only made things harder, that your hut was just outside the village, a good few meters away from the gates that greeted travelers who seek shelter from the cold night of the desert.

This left you now with only one barrel of water, scarcely any food to eat, a pile of laundry to be washed, and you also had to wash the dishes and sweep the dust out of your hut.   This would most probably take you your whole day.   Not to mention that you will also have to buy some hay for your donkey, Asim. Poor thing has hardly any grass or anything to chew on, and the trough he drinks from is getting short of clean water as well.  Maybe you should clean that too...

Groaning one more time, you stretched your limbs and sighed, before you sat up; the woolen blanket immediately slipping off of your body.   Barefoot, you made your way to the little wooden chair adjacent to your bed, and grabbed your neatly folded clothes.

  Your greyish – brownish robe, which you usually just wrapped around your figure and fastened it to your waist with a sash, was already a bit tattered, much to your embarrassment.

 You couldn’t stop scrutinizing the piece of clothing with your eyes, as you slipped it on.  Being done with that,  you slipped your feet in your curly toed leather slippers and  proceeded to make exit your room.  The kitchen area was separated from your room with a doorframe that was covered with a long, blanket like garment, attached to the upper frame with several nails.

 Gently shoving it aside, you entered your kitchen.  In the right corner of it was a barrel filled with water.  

Walking up to it, you started to scoop out the water in to a little bowl, to wash your face and hands.  Feeling the cold water against your cheeks made you elicit a loud sigh of satisfaction.   After you finished washing yourself, you stepped to the wooden cupboard next to it and opened it’s door.  You had some bread, eggs, a few herbs and a pottery container full of rice.

Humming quietly, you shrugged your shoulders, and grabbed the bread.  As you were cutting it into neat slices, you decided to save two for Asim as a little treat.

’He deserves that much for always carrying me with my baggage around,’ you mused to yourself.  Putting the two slices of bread away in your pouch bag, you put one slice in your mouth and started slowly chewing it.  Despite you feeling dead tired, you  stood there standing and did not sit at your meek little wooden table.

You were restless, and couldn’t just sit there calmly eating.  A long day was awaiting you, and you hoped that the  sooner you start with your chores, the earlier you will finish them.

 Mentally going over your to – do list once again, you decided that it would be wiser to start with filling your barrel with water.  For getting water, you just usually went to the nearest desert well, which wasn’t even that far away from your hut.  ...Well, if you went with Asim, that is.  By foot it would take you roughly one hour to cross the sand dunes and travel in the unbearable heat.

The elderly women in the near – by village always voiced their concern whenever you told them where you get your water.  They deemed it too dangerous for you to travel alone in the middle of  nowhere to a well, that is hundred of years old, not to mention its questionable water - quality.  This was then almost always followed by the quiet muttering about how you were also a woman, making you more vulnerable if, say, a group of bandits appeared and decided to ambush you.

You usually just waved at this and laughed weakly.  ”Well, I always have Asim by my side...?”

Cue sad headshake from them.

You shrugged, and swallowed down the thoroughly chewed bread, already being finished with one slice. You’ve been going to that well since years, and not once did anyone attack you.   In fact, it was one of the most deserted places you knew about.

  The water seemed to be fine as well, since you didn’t recall it tasting funny or suspicious.  Adding to the fact was that you were healthy as ever, so you assumed that it must have been clear.   With this thought, you finished your second slice of bread, and went to the other corner of your kitchen.

There, propped up against the wall, were four antique ceramic jugs.  They had a muddy color, but were nonetheless beautiful; richly decorated with paintings of different Arabic patterns.

 You use them for delivering the bailed out water from the well, since the barrel in your kitchen is too heavy for you and for Asim to carry.  It would be no problem if the barrel was empty, but once it was filled there was no way you or your poor donkey could manage to bring it back in your hut.   But fastening the jugs on Asim’s back – it’s all much, much easier.

And fortunately, you only have to do this once a week.   The water usually lasts for five to seven days, but of course only because you learned how to spare.  Before grabbing the two jugs,  you made your way back in your room.  Grabbing your shawl, you loosely wrapped it around your head.

 Your journey to the well should be relatively pleasant, since the sun did not fully rise yet, but you knew that by the time you have your jugs filled with water, the sun will be high, tormenting you with its heat.

Finished with wrapping, you left your room and grabbed the jugs, two under either side of your armpits, and carefully made your way out of your hut.  The little stable, in which your loyal companion resided, was just behind your house; it’s disheveled form seemed to be engulfed by the vast sandy scenery, standing there completely lonely and almost out of place.

The ceramic jugs lightly clinked under your arms as you walked, and the noise immediately alerted your grey – furred friend.  In an instant, Asim straightened his neck and perked up his ears; suddenly becoming fully alert of his surrounding.

 As it seems, he didn’t recognize you, for he suddenly started braying in fright, which sounded almost horrifying after a long time of absolute silence out here in the middle of nothing.
You were sure that even the villagers heard it.

Flinching, you gently lowered the jugs to the sandy ground and with slow, careful steps made your way to Asim.

”Shhh! Asim, shhh! It’s all right! It’s just me, (Name)!” you whispered to him, and tried to calm him down by raising both of your hands towards him in a defensive manner.  To this he was restlessly shifting his weight from his front legs to the back,  his tail nervously swatting at the fence of his stall.

Stepping much closer to him, you moved one of your palms close to his wet muzzle.  In a matter of seconds, he stopped his braying and started curiously sniffing at your palms and hands.  You giggled and started patting his still and upright mane.

”Did you really not recognize me, my old friend?  Oh, Asim.  Shame on you,” you told him, jokingly feigning resentment and pouting at him.  You couldn’t really blame him, though.  He wasn’t in his youngest years anymore, having him since quite a while.  That he can still carry you and your baggage in this age is something to be admired for.  You sometimes even felt guilty, fearing that you overworked him.

Scratching his mane and along his neck, he showed his appreciation by letting out a loud puff of air from his nose and shortly resting his snout against your head.

 At this you laughed again, before you friendly patted his back and opened the wooden door of his stall.  He diligently stepped out and after a few steps stopped, having learned to wait for you ’til you close the door.  

After you did so, you went back to the stable and retrieved a basket - like saddle bag, that had its bags on either side of the saddle.  It was woven out of wood splints, and was one of your most helpful tools when it came to delivering water.  All you had to do is put two jugs in the east bag and two in the west, then fasten the saddle on Asim with the leather harnesses.  They were strong; easily holding the jugs.

And you ought to know, since you were the one who made them.

Smiling at the memory how your mother taught you the art of basket weaving, you went back to Asim, before you did a complete trip down memory lane.  It would be nice if this tedious work would be done before the clock reaches ten, or else you’ll end up like a cooked egg in the desert.  Shaking your head, you deftly put the jugs in the saddle bags, before carefully picking up the saddle itself, and laying it on Asim’s sturdy back.

Asim, all the while, was patiently waiting for you.  He was perfectly calm, the total opposite of what he was just five minutes ago, with his ears picking up the sound of  your movements.

 His posture did not change,  even when you proceeded to fasten the belts of the saddle on his stomach.  You smiled at him, and stood up while lightly patting his rump.

”Good boy,” you gently cooed at him, to which he only bobbed his head up and down, another loud puff of air escaping his snout.  Turning your head over your shoulder, you checked one more time if you left anything important behind, before your eyes widened in remembrance.

”Oh, right!” you exclaimed in a loud whisper while already being on your way back to your hut.  Once entering your kitchen, you grabbed your bag and jogged back to Asim.  On the way to him, your arm was already elbow – deep in your bag, searching for the slices of bread your saved for Asim.

 The moment your fingers found them, you took them out and dangled it playfully in front of Asim’s mouth.  It took him no less than a second to recognize the food you were holding out for him, and he immediately opened his mouth, desperately trying to reach the slices of bread with his teeth.

You snickered, and quickly threw the slices in his mouth, before he chomped down your fingers.  He wasted no time, already chewing the bread with great enthusiasm, which elicited another chuckle from you.  

”I know how much you like bread,” you gently told him, before you patted his forehead.  While two slices of bread definitively won’t shoo his appetite away, it was enough for a little treat, before you two toured out in to the desert.

Grabbing the bridle’s reins, you lightly tugged at it, leading Asim on your way.

”C’mon, boy.  Let’s get this over with.”

---
       
The vast desert did not change since the last time you came to visit it.  No surprise, really.
 
It was still as dry and sandy as ever; the only change being the wind, that suddenly decided to play with hordes of sand, shaping the dunes around you to its favor.  The arid air made your eyes sting with tears and so you pulled your shawl higher, ’til it engulfed your nose.  In the meantime you decided to mount Asim, all the while keeping your eyes on the jugs in the basket, that clinked with every movement of his.

The dry sand under his hooves made soft crunching noises, and with the sand not being the most solid substances out there,  one of his hooves slipped on the loose sand from time to time.  To this the jugs in the basket cried their discontentment with a loud clink, and even you weren’t far from tumbling down Asim’s back.

Your equestrian companion straightened himself back and gave out a sound that resembled a quiet moan.  At this, you immediately dismounted, the sand under your feet giving out a loud whisper from your landing, before you stepped next to Asim’s head.

”I am already too heavy for you, aren’t I?  Or are you just tired, my dear?” you asked him, gently stroking his neck.  ”It’s all right, boy.  You’re already doing your best, I won’t mount you again.”

Asim gave out another moan and shook his head side – to – side, before giving out a big yawn.  You smiled, finding him adorable, before you glanced up to the sky.  You two were already traveling for more than half an hour, and sure enough, the sun was already visible on the horizon.  

Fortunately, the temperature remained bearable, and if your calculations were right, you two would need only a bit more time before reaching the well.

With a sigh, you lightly tugged at his reins, and started to lead him through the never ending trails of sand and dust.  ”It shouldn’t be long before we arrive there,” you told Asim encouragingly, albeit it sounded more like you were encouraging yourself.
     
  ...But to your utmost relief, you weren’t even that far from the truth.

Because there, just in front of the far off sand mountains was the distinctive shape of a tiny struction built out of rocks and mud.  A big smile immediately replaced your worry etched face, and – without you even realizing - started walking faster;  the clinking of the jugs getting louder and louder behind you.

”See? I told you we’ll arrive there soon,” you said to Asim, completely happy that you were closer to cross out this task on your today’s to – do list.

   ...And that’s when you saw it.

In a matter of seconds, your controlled glee turned in to shock and alarm.

Suddenly halting in your steps, you gasped loudly, which caused Asim to violently jerk back, the jugs clinking their loudest at this hasty movement.  Asim, trying to get back his stable footing, slightly moved behind you and nervously raised his legs up.  But for the first time today, you didn’t pay any attention to him.

Completely rooted to your place, you lost all connection to your surrounding.  Time seemed to stop still, and everything went mute.  All you could do was stare at a spot not far away from the well.

     ...Because there, in the glistening sand, was a someone  – face down lying on the ground.

Motionless.

Your brain freezed with dread as you continued staring at the person, helplessly and unmovingly lying before the well.  You felt your throat going dry.

Asim’s head slightly bumped your shoulder, which then managed to snap you out of your shock.  With another gasp, you broke out in to a run, though the thick sand piling under your feet made it difficult to reach the body as fast as you would have liked it to.

Still, after a few minutes, you finally reached the form, all the while heavily wheezing from all the running in your loose and layered clothing that sometimes got tangled in your legs.  However, before you fully reached the unmoving body, you suddenly stopped and narrowed your eyes at it.

Even from afar you could tell that they were wearing expensive clothing, which was typically colorful and flashy.  The person, that was now just a few steps away from you, wore an attire dyed in royal blue and decorated with yellow stripes.

 And if the black harem pants did not instantly give it away, the white turban pretty much made you assume that the person in front of you was male.

A rich one, at that.  
     
Biting your lip, you hesitated.  What should you do now?  Should you travel back to the village and call for help or stay here and shake him awake?  That is  ...if he is still alive?
 
This thought made your heart sink, and you didn’t even notice how your feet lead you right next to the man, the horrid thought having such an impact on them.

 Stepping closer, you were almost about to reach out to his shoulder when the sight of his scimitar(1) made you stop in fright.  It was dangerously glinting in the sunlight, resting just beside his form.  Like a rattle snake, ready to attack.  Eyes widening to their sockets, you couldn’t stop staring at the sharp end of the weapon, getting scared  the longer you stared at it.

 ...And it was then when another horrible thought crossed your mind, which made you suddenly leap back a good few steps in terror.

What if this was a trap?  What if he is a bandit and he is faking himself unconscious just so he could attack the next unsuspecting person who happens to stumble upon him?  Maybe he stole those clothes from some noble man to lure people on...?

You trembled.  For all you knew, he could stand up any minute and attack you or even kill you or do whatever bandits do to their victims.  The thought made your heart skip in fear and you were already about to run back to Asim and get the hell out of here...

... But then stopped.  ...And cast one more worried glance over your shoulder at the man.  He was still lying there, just as motionlessly as you had found him, the only moving thing on him being the end of his robes that were lightly swaying whenever a light breeze passed by.

You watched him from this safe distance for a few more minutes, feverishly thinking the whole situation trough.  ...Before eventually you closed your eyes and shook your head.
   
No ...that can’t be.  Why would he fake his unconsciousness here, in the middle of nowhere?

 He would have to wait days for someone to show up and attack them.  Until then he’d starve to death here under the scorching heat of the desert.  It just wouldn’t make any sense.  If he really wanted to attack someone by faking unconsciousness, he would have done this near the gate of the village.

And anyway.  You have been around him for a good few minutes now.  You were sure that the sand whispering under your steps, the nervous puffs of air from Asim or even the clinking of jugs could have been well heard by him.  If he really was conscious and wanted to attack you, he would have done so a good while ago.  But he did not.
 
Now you had the urge to quietly laugh at yourself.  ’Looks like the silly horror stories from the elderly women of the village have gotten to me.’

But there was still something that struck you as odd about the man.  No baggage beside or even around him.  Nor a camel.

 ...Well, at least you assumed  that he must have traveled with a camel, since  nobility most definitively did not travel on the back of donkeys.  That being said, you doubted that he was attacked, considering that his scimitar is still by his side.

 Bandits would have long before stolen his weapon, along with his expensive attire.  And if the man before you really is of royal status, they would have kidnapped him too. Either taken as ransom or to sell him away as a slave.

You shivered again at the thought.   Poor sod.   He was lucky to be found by you.

    ...That is, if he is still alive.  You still didn’t check his pulse.  Stalling yourself, you now bravely approached him with big, sturdy steps, and crouched down beside him.  Biting your lip, you raised your shaking hand and tentatively rested it on the man’s shoulder.  After the man before you did not give any reaction to this, you slowly turned him around and on his back, already fearing the sight that will greet you.

You half expected to see a rotten face, filled with bugs and worms or even dead and wide open eyes staring ahead in to nothing...

  ...but instead you saw something completely else.

Your eyes widened in awe when your sight settled itself on the handsome (and completely intact) face of a young man.  His eyes were closed and his lips half open; his eyebrows arching upwards, most probably from distress.  His skin was flawless and despite being in the desert, quite pale.

 It was smooth and impeccable, like porcelain.  Blinking in surprise, you couldn’t stop tracing his features with your eyes, from his raven black hair and sharp nose, to his pale lips and strong jaw.

He was devilishly good looking.  Even with his hair laying disheveled across his forehead, and sandcorns decorating his face.  Your heart involuntarily skipped a beat.

’A beautiful prince perhaps...?’

As in a trance, you lightly reached out and rested your hand against his cheek.  He was still warm, much to your relief.  Then you slowly leaned in and turned your head; your ear facing his mouth.

But you didn’t need to listen too long, before you heard his soft breathing, his cool breath lightly hitting the shell of your ear.  You drew back, and just to be sure, slipped your fingers past the layers of his scarf and rested them on his neck.  With bathed breath you waited for the distinctive signs of life...

...and loudly exhaled in relief, when you felt the light throbbing against your fingers.  

’He is alive!’, you thought with much gratefulness, and smiled at him.  As if the weather around you heaved a sigh of relief as well, a breeze coming from north - east suddenly picked up and caressed your back and shoulders.  It also picked up strands of the stranger’s locks and started swaying them, tussling his hair even more.  You, without hesitation, brushed his bangs aside, and gently caressed his face one more time.

A good few moments passed like this, with you gently caressing the young man’s face and admiring him, the wind quietly singing around you two.  In the distance you could vaguely hear Asim’s steps, coming closer and closer to you.

But deep in thought, you could only stare at the dark haired man in fron of you, and thought the whole situation once more through.  He must have passed out,  you concluded inwardly.

And that was the only logical explanation that came to your mind right now.  A rich, young man lays unconsciously in the sand, with him being still alive and his weapon and clothes by his side, but no luggage or any kind of animal – powered - transport to be seen around him.

 He must have, for whatever reason, traveled out in to the desert and either passed out from hunger, thirst or fatigue.  He was properly dressed for a trip out in to this desert, so you doubted the heat had gotten to him.   His turban should have prevented that.

By the time you figured out what has possibly happened to the stranger, Asim reached you and stopped just beside you; the jugs lightly clinking from his halt.  At this you broke your gaze away from the man and glanced up at him.  Standing up, you reached towards his head, and patted his forehead.

”Asim,” you whispered to him, afraid that the stranger would wake up if you talked louder, ”I have a big favor to ask from you.  I know I told you that I won’t mount you again, and I won’t.

 But I will need your help with carrying this man back to our hut.  Please forgive me, but I hope you understand.  We can’t just leave him out here...,” you told him, and at the end of your sentence glanced back to the unconscious lying man.  

Asim only blinked at you, and you quietly snickered.  ”I will help you.  I’ll carry two jugs in my hands, so you wont have to carry so much.”

He only yawned again, and flipped his ears sideways.  Smiling at him, you grabbed his reins and lead him closer to the well.  After that, you opened the saddle bags and retracted the jugs from either side of him. Laying all four down in the sand, you grabbed one and stepped to the well.                  
As you neared the little wall around the well, you grabbed the wooden bracket resting on it.

 A rope was tied to its handle, and after tightly grabbing it, you lowered the bucket down the hand dug well to the fresh groundwater.

While you were bailing out the colorless liquid, you occasionally glanced back to the handsome stranger in the sand, absentmindedly wondering what color his eyes had.

---

The way back to your hut was surprisingly shorter.

Carrying two jugs filled to the brim with water, you worriedly watched Asim shambling beside you.  With slow and heavy steps, he managed to carry the stranger and the jugs on his back at the same time. From time to time, however, he would stop and glance at you with big, teary eyes and groan, to which you would quietly and consolingly whisper him promises of a fast return to your hut.

Of course, Asim wasn’t the only one you were worried about right now.

Glancing to the man hauled over Asim’s back, you let out a quiet sigh of anxiety.

To be honest, you had not much of an idea what you would do to him, once you reached your home.  But you were sure that he must be in some serious state of unconsciousness, if he still didn’t wake up.  He didn’t even stir, even after you hauled him over your donkey’s back.  You just hoped that you could patch him up, because ending up with a dead man in your home would be anything but pleasant.

Were would you even burry him? And what if someone found out?

They’d be prone to think that you murdered him.  And if his attire truly reflects his wealthy ancestry, you’d pay for it with your life.  How would you even prove your innocence?  Would anyone even take you seriously if you told them the truth?

Your breathing getting difficult, you exhaled and felt your chest sting painfully.

’No! I must stop thinking like this!  Everything’s going to be alright.  I’ll brew some tea and apply some cold, wet rag on his forehead.  That should help him!’  

From the moment you decided that you’d take him home, you knew, that you couldn’t go in the village and ask for help.  You knew that you’ll have to care for him on your own.  But times like these were the ones when you were more than thankful for not living in the village, but outside of it.

Imagine if someone saw you like this; carrying someone of high rank on an old donkey’s back.
Just thinking about this made you more nervous.  You could practically feel your hands shaking, and you stalled yourself, before you accidentally dropped the jugs.

’Calm down, (Name!)’, you chanted to yourself, trying to get your breathing back to a normal tempo.

But the wind started blowing stronger, flipping your shawl and robes in every direction, and even Asim got anxious, by the way he started to turn his head side to side.  The sun was already high up, but the heat faded away under the strong wind.  The clinking of jugs got louder and louder, so you stepped closer to Asim, and briefly rested your head against his.

”Atta, boy! Calm down.  We’ll be shortly home, I promise.”

At this, Asim let out a nervous puff of air and continued following you.  The forceful wind picked up sand from the ground and dropped it once it raised it in the air.  Coughing, you pulled up your shawl and squinted.

A sand storm approached.

---

Half an hour later, and you were home.

Hurrying inside, you immediately poured the water from the jugs in your wooden barrel.   The dry wind outside grew in force, tugging at everything that was in its way.   Sand was flying everywhere, obscuring your sight and erasing the horizon line from the wast sand mountains around you.

 Considering that your worry came true, you were at a great hurry to bring the stranger and Asim back to safety.

Carefully pulling the stranger down from Asim’s back, you pulled his arm over your shoulder and dragged him inside.  His legs brushing against the sand had left a trail behind you, but the sand almost immediately swept it away.

Entering your hut, the noise of the sandstorm instantly quieted down and you appreciated not having the sandy wind push against your from from every direction.  Hauling him up higher, you carried him inside your room.

Before you laid him down on your bed, you heard a quiet groan escape his lips, which made you flinch in fear.   With bathed breath, you stood frozen in your place, waiting if he uttered any other sound, but after a few more seconds of not hearing anything, you proceeded to lower him down on your bed.

Then you immediately left your room and ran out back to Asim.  Poor thing was already braying, being too afraid of the storm.  Resting both of your hands on either side of his head, you tried to calm him down by whispering all kinds of reassurances.  He blinked back at you and then flicked his ears.  Smiling, you hastily grabbed his reins and as fast as you could, lead him back to his stable.

”Come on, boy!  Hurry!”

After you ushered him inside his crate, you went and removed the saddle from his back.   Putting it safely away, you went back and poured him water in his trough and with a pitchfork scratched together a pile of hay, giving it to him. Despite being short of breath, you still had the energy to ruffle up his mane and scratch along his neck, even giving him a  pat on his back.

”Good boy.  Thank you so much for everything, my friend,” you whispered.  He softly snorted through his nose, and shook his head.  Patting his head one more time, you turned around and left the stable.

Running back to your hut, you immediately made your way to your kitchen and started searching your cupboard for rags and anything helpful.  You found a greyish – white one, which you yourself used if you ever had fever.

Deeming it good enough, you grabbed it, closing your cupboard, then went and reached for a plate sized bowl and filled it with cold, fresh water from your barrel.

Being done with that, you pivoted on your heel and rushed back inside your room.  The stranger was still laying on your bed, with eyebrows furrowed painfully.   Kneeling before your bed, you observed him for a short while with worry etched features, while putting down the rag and bowl beside you.  Taking a deep breath and biting your lip, you carefully reached over and started removing his turban and shawl.

This often required you to slip your hand under his head and raise it, as to properly remove the piece of clothing.  You were slow and weary at first, but after you saw him remain unresponsive, you grew a bit bolder and picked up your pace.

 Several seconds later, you managed to get his turban and shawl off of him.  Neatly folding it, you put it on your chair adjacent to your bed and tip – toed back to him.

Now that he had no headcloth, you were surprised to see that he wore a black belly shirt.   It fitted snugly  against his taut chest and brought out his pale complexion even more.  ...Though you felt your cheeks getting warm as your eyes wandered  south and rested themselves on his exposed abdominal muscles.   They were quite  well developed...

...In fact!  Seeing him this close and without his headcloth, you could clearly see that he had overall a very good physique.  Lean and toned.  With a deep V line.

And while you felt your blush worsening by the minute, the color from your cheek immediately vanished when your eyes continued their way south.   ...And your mouth fell open.

His belt.   It was made out of gold.  

Blinking twice, you could only sit there and stare agape at his waistline, not believing your eyes.   Feeling your fingers twitch, you had half the mind to reach out and touch it.   In your whole entire life, you have never ever seen gold this close.   To you it was just a far away, unreachable substance that would never cross your way.

But another soundless gasp escaped you, when you saw that the bracelets on his upper arm being  made out of gold as well.

And that is when your worry resurfaced.   ’Just how rich is this man?!’ you asked yourself, while you started to unconsciously fumble with your own robes.   You were starting to second guess your actions. Was it wise to bring this young man back to your hut?

But one glance at your window already made you answer your own question.   The sand storm outside was already on a serious rampage, creating dust clouds everywhere.   The stranger by now would have been buried under sand and forgotten there.   He would have died out there and a long amount of time would have  passed before someone even stumbled upon his corpse.   ...Or even not.

You couldn’t just leave him out there alone, now could you?

Biting your lip, you tore your gaze away from his bracelets.   Instead you glanced at his weapon.
The scimitar was still fastened to his waist, quietly hiding in its sheath.   Either out of instinct or simple paranoia, but you were quite weary of it.

  Even more because you didn’t know what the stranger would do if he woke up.   Is there a possibility that he would attack you with it?

Shivering at the thought, you hugged yourself.

’So what should I do now...?’  

Torn between your thoughts, you found  yourself lost on this matter.  You were certain that he was not a bandit.   No bandit was this well groomed as this man in front of you.   And his attire clearly gave it away that he was of noble rank, and if that’s really the case, then he would certainly not attack you or take advantage of you...

...would he?

Letting out a breath of frustration, you clenched at your robe.

’I think it would be wise if I removed his scimitar.  I’d put it on my chair.  Just to be safe’.  

Stalling yourself, you carefully reached over to his waist.  The cold surface of the sword’s hilt against your fingers made you shiver.  To them, the touch felt so unfamiliar.   Still, this very thing you were just touching now may end your life later, so you better not make a mistake.

 Feeling your heart painfully palpitate, you focused on untying the string that fastened the scimitar to his waist.  With nimble fingers, you set to work, even leaned in closer, while trying to tug at his harem pants as little as you could.

”...Damn it all!” you quietly cursed as you realized that the knot was  much too tight for you to unloose it. Of course, it came as no surprise, since this murderous object was probably heavier than you, and you were sure that it even had a bigger price than you...  

    ...But what came as utter surprise and terror to you was a pale hand suddenly grabbing yours.

”AAaagh..!” you cried out of shock, as you instantly jumped up and away from your bed.   Looking up, your eyes landed back on the hand, that was now protectively gripping the scimitar, before they rested on the owner’s face of said hand.  

Confused deep blue eyes met your wide ones.   The stranger awakened.

Scared and uncertain, you slowly took a few steps back.  The stranger all the while was heavily breathing and followed every movement of yours with his eyes.  After they focused in on you, he suddenly spoke up.

”...H- hey.  What’s the big idea?”

His voice was weak and raspy, but that didn’t make his tone sound less threatening.  You gulped, having a really hard time finding your voice.

”I – I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were awak - ”

”Who are you? And where am I?” he suddenly asked, impatiently  interrupting your stuttering.

 His eyes narrowed at the shabby place he found himself in, and you suddenly felt a bit ashamed of your hut.  You made your best to make it look as clean as possible, but no matter how much you worked on it, it still remained a modest little hut.  For someone like him it must have looked like a dumpster of sort.

You quietly cleared your throat and raised your head a bit higher, in a measly attempt to save whats left of your dignity.   ”I am (Name).  And you’re in my house.  I brought you here, because if I didn’t you’d be still out in the desert and dead.”

At your introduction, he snapped his eyes from the ceiling of your hut to you, making you nervous.  He must have not liked your tone.  He is nobility after all; people don’t speak to him like this.
 
  Lowering your head, you apologized.  Silence followed and he didn’t say anything, just laid there and stared at you.   You helplessly stared back at him and watched as he slowly sat up on your bed.   As he looked down, he realized that his headcloth was missing, but didn’t seem to be too surprised.

”Your clothes are here,” you quietly told him, while pointing to your chair.

He followed your finger and nodded.   But you, starting to feel really awkward, felt the need to explain why you just undressed him, lest he got the wrong idea. ”I removed your turban and shawl because I wanted to see if you had any injuries.  I found you passed out before a well, and wasn’t sure what happened to you.  Please forgive me.”

”As I said – it’s fine.”

That instantly shut you up.   Fidgeting with your robes, a question wanted to resurface on your tongue. One that was on your mind since you stumbled up on him.  Opening your mouth, you braved to ask him.

”May I know... what happened to you?”

He did not answer right away, only stared at his feet in silence.  At first you thought he didn’t hear you, even though you asked him loud enough, but then you saw him furrow his brows at the ground.  As if he was ...thinking?

”...Water...,”

You blinked in confusion.   ”...Pardon?”

”Water,” he repeated it louder.  ”I was searching for water.  We... I mean,  I  ran out of water.  Then I found that well, but...  I must have passed out before I could reach it,” he recalled with a lowered head. By now it was more like he was explaining this all to himself and not to you.

 You patiently waited for him to finish, but even after you listened to him, you were still confused.

Why was this young man searching for water? Was he travelling and he ran out of it? Did someone steal his waterskin? You made sure to ask him once you got the chance.   ...Which was not now, because suddenly he raised his head and looked at you with eyes taking over something pleading.

”Please ...could you give me some water?” he croaked out, painfully gulping after he finished his sentence. With mouth agape, you stared at him before you nodded and stepped to the bowl full of water,  just at the side of your bed.

  You carefully grabbed it by its edges and raised to him, your eyes never leaving your bowl.   He grabbed it from your hands and drank the water out of it at sight.  You watched as he eagerly swallowed the fresh water; a thin stream of water dripping down from the corner of his mouth.

He finished with a loud gasp.  Either from ease or fatigue but he closed his eyes and left his mouth parted for a miniscule while, like he was praying or giving a thank you to some God.  You watched him with worry.   Poor boy must have been really thirsty.

”Do you want some more?” you quietly asked him.  He opened his eyes and shifted them down to your crouching figure.   The admiring expression, that was clearly sent for the water, got stuck on his face and was now directed at you.  You couldn’t keep yourself from blushing.

But he nodded and added a meek little ’please’, to which you immediately made your way out to your kitchen, all the while pulling your shawl down, trying to hide your cheeks.

---

With a grunt, you dragged a big washing bowl in the centre of your little room.  It was made out of fine wood, though time had already chipped off the surface of it from here and there. Still, it was in good condition and you were ever so grateful to have it. It always came in handy.

And while you usually used it to wash your clothes and other things, now you were about to use it for something not even so completely different.  Still, it came as a big surprise when the stranger shyly asked you if you could draw him a bath of some sorts.

 He told you that he felt dirty and uncomfortable, and that you would do him a great favor if you could wash him, for he felt too fatigued to do that. This further proved your guess, that he was a nobleman.  Because even if he requested this in the most polite manner possible, he still requested for a bath.  
 
But you did not mind.  You would have done this, even if he was just an everyday commoner. Heaven knows how long he was lying out there, unconscious and completely vulnerable.  He deserved this much, you mused.

And thus, you heated some water from your barrel and poured it all in the washing bowl; the hot steam immediately rising up and filling up your room.

 Sighing from the sudden humidity, you turned around and almost dropped your jug, when you saw the man already being halfway done with undressing himself. Hastily averting your eyes to the ground, you felt heat rising to your cheeks, and tried as quietly as you could to make your way out and wait in the kitchen ’til he was done with undressing himself.

  You were almost out of your room, when you caught him from the corner of your eyes removing the last piece of clothing from himself.  As his black pants hit the ground, he immediately leapt in to the washing bowl and you took this as your cue to leave before you saw too much.

But you didn’t get far.

”Where are you going?  Didn’t you said that you would wash me?” he asked, strangely calm and you had to wonder how he wasn’t embarrassed being nude in the presence of a woman he barely knew.

Not having the courage to turn around, you just stopped in your tracks and replied.

”Y – yes, I did, but I forgot to bring a towel and a sponge.  I’ll be right back.”  And with this, you hurriedly left, wanting to kick yourself for letting your voice sound so nervous.

  The man in your room only cocked an eyebrow at your retreating form and glanced down.

The sponge and towels were just beside the bathing bowl.

---

After having a mini panic attack in your kitchen, which consisted of you wringing your robes and biting your lip, you stalled yourself and went back to your room.   ...But not before you slapped some water in your face and took a few deep breaths.

  You have never in your whole entire life seen a naked man, and if someone from the village found out that you were willingly washing a nude man you didn’t even know...

...boy, would you get a reputation.

Though the man in your bath didn’t seem really upset about your short departure, for he was resting his head against the brim of the wooden surface when you returned; with eyes closed and lips parted in appreciation for the sudden luxury of having warm and clean water.

When you stepped closer, he popped his eyes open and followed your movements, but did not change his position ’til you completely reached the bowl.  Before you grabbed the sponge, however, you grabbed your shawl and unwrapped it from your head.  The steam from the water was making you hot and you deemed it wiser to not make this harder for yourself.

After you were done with that, you silently crouched down, perfectly positioning yourself behind the stranger’s shoulders.  When he saw that, he slid himself a bit closer to the center, so you could properly reach his back.  

The moment your sponge touched his skin, a soft sigh escaped his lips and he couldn’t help but close his eyes.  You were careful and hesitant at first, trying not to touch him with anything but the sponge.  Your hand was violently shaking and you hoped that he didn’t notice it somehow, for that would bring you even more humiliation.   It was a wonder that you could even properly hold  the damn sponge.

”Why did you save me?”

 ...And there goes the blasted thing, falling in the water with a big, wet platsh.  Him suddenly speaking startled you, being too absorbed in keeping your eyes on his back and only his back.

  Reaching for your sponge in the water, you answered, a bit embarrassed, because he saw your clumsy move.

”I did not have the heart to leave you out there.  I would have had trouble sleeping at night.”  
Finding your sponge, you grabbed it and resumed to wash his shoulders and the back of his neck, while he quietly ruminated on your reply.

After a bit of silence, however, he asked you again.

”Where is my luggage?”  The question  sounded more like he already knew the answer.

”I ...don’t know.   I found you all alone with no luggage or anything.”

”And my camel?”  Looks like you were also right about his animal companion.   You gulped.

”There wasn’t any camel around you.  I’m really sorry.”  

He only nodded and lowered his head, when you trailed your sponge up to the place where his head met his neck.   He quietly hummed, as little streaks of water started to gutter down on either side of his neck, little droplets falling in between his legs.

And even though you made sure not to brush against his skin with your fingers, it did happen from time to time, and unbeknownst to you,  the raven haired man found himself actually liking your touch.  It was delicate and soft, giving him goosebumps.

”May I know your name?”  you suddenly asked, still behind him, and now it was his turn to be startled by your sudden choice to speak.   Head still lowered, he blinked behind his dark bangs, before he answered.

”...Just call me Haru.”   The slight hesitation to reveal his name did not escape your notice.  But you did not think much about it.  If he really is of noble rank, you could understand.  ...Come to think of it, you still had to find out about that, you thought as your  eyes shifted from his head back to your hands.

But there were a couple of other things that got your attention about him.

Namely, his posture, which was getting more and more relaxed, slowly yet surely losing its rigidness, with his shoulders starting to drop forward and his back curving outside.

You enjoyed watching his skin and muscle react to your touches, getting tense and then unwind.   He was completely at your  mercy.

Little did you know just how much.