Quest, Reversal In Time | By : highlandgirl Category: G through L > Highlander Views: 1888 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
by
Frances Rolfe
Character: Duncan
Key: ****** Scene change,
Italics Thoughts
Disclaimer: How I wish I owned him, but alas, he's still Panzer/Davis'.
Summary: Duncan finds himself in the Anasazi world.
A/N: I'm sorry about the chapters' 2 and 3 mix up. Somehow, my chapter 2 disappeared <lol>. They are now in proper order and I hope you aren't too discombobulated! So, on with the story.
fr
Reach For The Unknown
Just when it seemed he would drift forever in this timelessness, Duncan felt the familiar soft, pillowy, lips that were not quite as cold as before. They caressed him and a mind voice whispered, "Duncan, my love, do not be afraid. I am here with you. willwill neither falter nor die. I will not leave you, my warrior."
As the enchantingly mesmerizing voice deteriorated to that same vacuous state, the ostensibly eternal darkness slowly began to erode around Duncan's periphery. It was as if a black curtain was slowly being lifted to reveal a play. Held nld neither hear nor see and his body remained encased in the buffalo robe. What he could feel, however, was a pair of delicate hands caressing his wide forehead, wan cheeks, flared nostrils and finally, his lush lips. Duncan shivered as goose flesh pimpled his entire body. Those intriguing, hypnotizing hands then removed the poultices from his ears and eyes. The first sound he heard was the soft lilt of tinkling laughter. "Wha
am I?" he began, his rich baritone voice husky with the drug and disuse.
"Sh-h, my love, you are with me."
The Highlander then felt the entrancing lips he'd felt in all his nightmares lean over and brush his temples, his forehead, both of his closed eyes, his nose and finally settle upon his open lips. The woman's surreptitious tongue darted into his open mouth and proceeded to dominate his warm orifice. It clashed with his own appendage in an ancient dance of erotic sensation before seeking out every tooth, every portion of gum and every surface until it finally abandoned its foray.
MacLeod drew in a ragged, wheezing breath. "Am I...?" he began.
"Open your eyes, my beloved."
The ebony s eye eyelashes masking his mahogany eyes slowly lifted. Mac blinked several times as though his lids were glued by the vestiges of a deep sleep. When he was able to fully open them and focus his gaze, he beheld one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen in his long life. The Anasazi woman's silky black hair cascaded over her burnt sienna-toned shoulders and back, reaching below her tiny waist. It draped over onek brk brown eye and teasingly covered her voluptuous naked breasts. Duncan had the innate desire to suckle the rose pinked tips peeping from beneath the inky curtain.
"You are here, Pahana. I thought I had lost you," she whispered before recapturing his delectable mouth.
"Lost me? What do you mean?"
The woman's eyes widened as she frowned, "Do you not remember, dear one?You were mauled by a cave lion. I thought you were deadt yot you have been returned to me!"
Duncan hadn't a clue as to what she was talking about. Of course, he was also overwhelmed by what had just happened to him. He wasn't even sure where he was, much less what century he was in. Looking about wide-eyed at his surroundings, he realized his current location. He'd been supernaturally transported to the Indian world of the Anasazi.
But, that's not possible! That was over nine hundred years ago! He numbly shook his head in bewilderment.
Taking a deep breath, his curious gaze surveyed the chamber in which he was lying. It was a one room adobe dwelling with two entrances. A small door led to the outside and another one opened to the roof. A rope bound ladder connected the unit to the upstairs apartment. Several earthenware jugs of varying shapes and sizes were in a corner. What looked to be a sleeping mat was rolled up in another one. Several stalks of dried corn had been bound together and were lying on a flat stone surface. A tall water jar sat nearby.
"Can you unwrap me?" he asked. "I feel like a mummy."
She smiled. "What is a mummy?"
Duncan blinked his eyes.
Of course, she's probably never heard of that or Egypt or anything else. He then answered, "It's someone who's wrapped up tightly, like me."
"Oh," she replied and quickly unwrapped the heavy buffalo robe encasing him. Her sparkling blue eyes swept over his almost naked form. She couldn't stop her fingertips from skimming over his wide shoulders and down his pectoral muscles. The girl, in her early twenties, ruffled the silky down that smattered the Highlander's chest. She poised a fingertip over both his button nipples before bending to tease each one with her teeth.
"What is your name?" he whispered.
A puzzled look spread over her beautiful face. She replied, "Surely you remember. My name is Rising Star."
The girl hesitantly peered into his questioning gaze with her own. Then, as if tossing aside her doubts, she shrugged her bare shoulders and lowered her seeking vision to his navel. With an impish grin, Rising Star unfolded the white kilt he wore and revealed his awakening shaft and scrotum. Duncan felt his face and body flush a brilliant red under her perusal.
In response, her grin turned into laughter. MacLeod's long arms snaked around her tiny waist and pulled her squirming body against his. Her infectious gaiety effervesced into him and he found himself giggling. As strange as it sounded, he felt as if he'd come home. He felt so right, so natural lying beside this vision of loveliness.
Duncan met her hungry gaze and the girl laughed again. "You think that looks funny, hum?" he teased the precocious young woman.
Duncan playfully tickled her sides, causing her to dissolve into boisterous laught
She then rolled over in his arms and snuggled up alongside his naked form.
"You never cease to amaze me, Pahana. You are so large!" she squeaked and tormented his blossoming rod with a taunting fingernail.
MacLeod's rudimentary command of the Hopi language helped him communicate with the Indian woman. Evidently, the Anasazis' language was quite near that of their modern day descendants. He couldn't comprehend some of what she said, but he soon gave up his meager efforts and helplessly groaned. Her erotic attentions spurred his sex to stand upright. Twisting their bodies yet again until Rising Star lay beneath him, the Scot's smile dissolved into one of hunger, hunger for her lithe, perfectly proportioned body. Duncan picked up a long strand of hair and held it to his nose. It smelled of fresh rain water and the fragrant sagebrush. He brushed it aside from her firm breast, then leaned over to lave his tongue around and around its tip until it was pink, firm and pointing from his ministrations. It had not occu to to him until now to ask if she was a virgin. "Are you. . . have you?" he hesitantly queried.
Rising Star's face again assumed a puzzling stare.
Why does he ask what he already knows? Aloud, she whispered, "Only with you, my beloved, only with you." The girl pecked him in the tender spot where his flared nose met his face. " .. .but enough questions. We have other matters to discuss," she insisted and tugged him down onto her small body.
Rising Star lifted her heart shaped mouth and delicate lipshis.his. MacLeod's handsome face lit up into one of his devastating smiles. Lowering his mouth onto her breast, he sucked, laved and bit the tip. The thumb and forefinger of his other hand, meanwhile, incited her other globe. Working his way down her slender body, Mac's four centuries' experience of love making came into play. Before the beautiful woman knew it, he was lifting her slender hips. Separating her legs, Mac's mouth found her erotic center and furiously tongued and nibbled her clitoris. The black-haired young girl tossed her head back and forth. Her naked back and buttocks tickled from the inner lining of the buffalo robe upon which they lay. In but a few moments, the blinding, breathtaking rapture of orgasm enveloped her body and senses, shooting white hot sensations throughout her petite form. Duncan's waiting mouth lapped up the milky white fluid. Unrelenting, he continued to irritate and stimulate the gland.
Rising Star felt as if she'd been lifbodibodily into the heavens. Her groping hands clasped her lover's heavy draping mane and forced his face back. "Please, no more, my love, no more," she gasped.
The Scot chuckled and replaced his oral cavity with that of his rigid shaft. In one smooth motion, he skewered himself into her wet vagina, not stopping until his pelvis met hers and the two mats of curling hair collided with each other. Mac's hips inserted and plunged into a rocking chair rhythm of deep, hot heat. He teasingly tormented and withdrew himself until Rising Star was once again elevated into heated frenzy. This time when she came, she took Pahana along with her and they climaxed simultaneously.
Two women, one, her graying hair tied back with a leather thong, and a younger one with dark brown hair sat on a nearby rooftop coiling ropes of clay. Some of the pots surrounding them were plain and roughened on the outside. These would be used for cooking. Others of varying shapes and sizes would be used for storage, water and even decoration. MacLeod unfolded his legs. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his long arms around them. Watching in rapt attention, Mac saw the potters shape and th tth the bowls with their pudgy hands. Both women worked the coils of clay until the containers were of a shape and smoothness desired. A ten year old girl sat nearby painting black flowers on a small bowl. Occasionally, one of the women would stop and check the child's work, nodding her approval.
On the level below MacLeod, two other women stirred pots of food for the evening meal. Duncan didn't understand most of their rapid, demonstrative speech, but he assumed they were the same as other women over the ages who talked of their children, the weather, their husbands and the local gossip as they worked.
Despite the pueblo being off the beaten path, visitors often stopped by on their way among the many pueblo cave cities to the south. Trading among the villages was abundant. MacLeod haen jen jewelry made of turquoise, shells and obsidian, just to name a few.
Over the past few days since Duncan's 'arrival' in the Mesa Verde area, his mind had been boggled by the sights and sounds around him. He still couldn't believe he was in the unknown, vanished civilization of a prehistoric people. Duncan wasn't yet sure just how he was to save Rising Star's life, but he was certain that he would eventually find out..
Ironically, he'd been readily accepted into the Buffalo Clan of the Catori Shi-Nu-Mu or Spirit People. They were so named because they moved from place to place. He'd asked Rising Star the first evening why they hadn't questioned his presence but greeted him as one of their own. She'd replied, with a curious look, "But, Pahana, you have been with us for three months."
Duncan sat back in shock.
What is going on? How can that be? I don't understand any of this.
Another curious aspect was that Rising Star was the clan's Mother. Even at her young age, was was the highest ranking person in the pueblo. The girl was ultimately responsible for all the decisions made regarding the clan.
MacLeod found it hard to accept, but the Anasazi were a matriarchal society. The women built their own homes, owned the land and made the bulk of the final decisions. When a young woman married, her new husband left his own clan and moved into his wife's pueblo. The requ dow dowry was provided by the prospective husband's family, not the bride's. Should the couple separate, any children born of them would remain with the woman's family. The man was turned out on his own.
MacLeod smiled to himself as he stood and went to find his 'wife.' There hadn't been any sort of official ceremony, but to the Scot's consternation, when Rising Star finished their adobe room and performed some other things Mac didn't quite understand, he became her husband. He was now formally accepted into the Buffalo Clan.
"I shot that rabbit, Little Coyote!" an indignant youngster of about eleven years old exclaimed. Running up to his friend, Red Feather shoved the other boy down onto the sandstone hillside and grabbed the dead hare. Shifting his small bow and arrow to his other chubby hand, the boy tossed his neck length, straight black hair out of his dusty dark face.
MacLeod grinned as he watched the two boys verbally battle over who actually bagged the animal. It reminded him of the time he'd spent with the Sioux and Little Deer and her son. He had enjoyed those days just as he was now. It still didn't quite seem realistic that his body had been magically transported back in time. For that matter, Mac didn't want to think how he'd get back to the twentieth century.
"Excuse me, grandmother,"spokspoke to one of the gray-headed women who was weaving a red woolen blanket.
Duncan's attention was diverted back to the two boys who were presenting their case to their mother when he felt a hand pinch a hunk of his naked buttocks.
"Ow!" he hollered and jumped away from the groping hand.
"Ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha," the old woman cackled, her rotten teeth shining in the summer sunshine. "You are some pretty man, Pahana," she crowed.
MacLeod rubbed his heinie. One thing that really bothered him was running around naked. He wore a small piece of deer skin barely covering his genitals. It was held in place by a single leather thong that fit down through the crack of his ass. That was his only clothing. It didn't matter to him that all the other men were dressed the same way. Mac felt naked. It somehow went against his mother's strong Catholic upbringing to not wear more clothes. The Highlander grinned. Of course it wasn't as if he could go to the local store and buy a suit either. "Oh well, when in Rome, do as the Romans do," he muttered.
"Pahana, over here," a lilting soprano voice called out to him.
Duncan looked up at the sheer cliff wall. Rising Star was descending from the mesa up above. Using hand and toe holds that had been chipped out with a crude stone ax, she agilely made her way down the sheer cliff to the hidden village. He hadn't been invited to the fields with the men as yet. Their crops of maize corn, beans and squash were planted in the lush soil found up on the high ground. He didn't like heights and was skeptical of climbing the rock face, but it was a cinch his bulk wouldn't fit through the tiny passage ways, that had been channeled up through the sandstone, either.
The beautiful young Indian woman dropped the last few feet and jumped into MacLeod's waiting arms. Her black hair touched the waist band of her hemp skirt. Wrapping her slender arms around the Immortal's neck, her small, pointed breasts teased his waist line and navel. That was something else that was difficult for the shy Highlander to deal with. The women only wore small grass aprons around t low lower bodies. Their upper torsos were bare.
"What has my husband been doing while I was away?" Rising Star traced a slender finger around the Scot's right nipple.
Mac giggled from the ticklish stimulation and drew her small body in close to him. "Not a whole lot. You know, I'm getting lazy with nothing to do."
The young Catori woman pressed her warm lips to his and pulled at his lower lip with her teeth before answering. "You are working; your labors are at night in our bed with your huge member deep inside me."
As she whispered the erotic words in MacLeod's ear, her right hand reached beneath his breech cloth and squeezed his pendulous sacs. Duncan flushed a brilliant red with embarrassment and teasingly slapped her hand away.
When the elder woman, who'd been admiring his physique, catcalled loudly in admiration, the Scot reddened even brighter. "I mean something besides that," he retorted, his pouty lower lip protruding even further. "I am a man, Rising Star. I'm used to working each day."
The woman drew back and saw the seriousness shadowing Pahana's handsome features. She brushed a lock of his long dark hair up off his face and kissed his lips. "You are, Pahana. That is where I've been today. Our village needs cotton, salt and shells." She glanced up at the Indian man descending the cliff. "Owl is leaving tomorrow on a trading journey. You are to go with him."
Rising Star absently stowed the bundle she had prepared in one corner of their sleeping room until the morrow.
The Indian woman stood up and brushed back a stray lock of hair. She lithely scaled the ladder to the roof of the pueblo dwelling. Her breath was quite taken away with the enchanting view which met her. Pahana lay stretched out on his stomach sound asleep. His handsome head was cradled upon his crossed frms rms and soft snoring noises emitted from his nose and mouth. The sinking, southwestern desert sun bounced off the surrounding sandstone canyon walls and transformed the man's skin into an even deeper shade of golden yellow. An errant thought tracked through her brain that it was a shame she couldn't transform that beautiful color into a dye for the blankets she made.
Pahana's shoulder length hair fanned over his muscular shoulders and neck like a black cloud. His long, curling eyelashes caressed his dark olive cheeks in sleep. Rising Star perused his glistening naked form stretched befobefore her. His virile body sang alluringly to her inner core's sensual desire. She tossed her waist length, black hair out of her sparkling eyes. She smiled as her appreciative gaze drifted down her husband's sloping back to his trim waist and slender hips. Rising Star felt her cheeks pink in mild embarrassment as she watched a single drop of moisture trickle down between Duncan's dimpled mounds and into the seam leading to his nether regions.
The girl's bow shaped lips curved up into a mischievous smile. She bent down soundlessly and planted a light kiss upon the moist juncture of Pahana's lower back that united with his deliciously rounded buttocks. Her questing tongue delved into the valley that separated the twin globes. Rising Star knew immediately when her lover had awakened from the telltale shiver that traced up his spine and pebbled his bare skin. She felt him start to rise but curbed his movements with a stinging pop to his exposed behind. "Be still," she capriciously ordered him.
Duncan lifted his head and looked back at his mate. He rolled his expressive eyes and flopped back down upon his folded arms. His smile immediately turned into a discomfited groan when the girl's hot tongue dipped down into his crack and laved a blazing path all the way down to his tiny web of muscle that beckoned her like a beaming light.
At first, the girl's sexual stimulations were erotic and Duncan felt his member rapidly engorging. Yet, as she dipped further and further down to his body's opening, bitter flashes of Lemuel Priest's abuse burned out any other perceptions. His purrs of ecstasy decayed into moans of increasing pain and terror. "No...o...oo!" he roared and bolted upright, unseating Rising Star.
The stunned woman suddenly found herself sitting on the adobe rooftop. She stared at Pahana. Her eyes widened as she saw his handsome face turn a deathly pale. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, eventually distorting his features into stark fear. As her initial shock faded, Rising Star scooted over to his side and cradled his now tearstained face to her bosom. "Pahana, what's wrong? You're safe, my beloved, I am here," she crooned over and over until his shaking sobs subsided.
Duncan finally regained control of his emotions. "I'm sorry, Rising Star. I'm not usually like this," he apologized.
"Do not concern yourself, my love. Whatever it is, we will work it out," she reassured him and cuddled his stihakihaking body within her slender arms.
Not saying anything else, the couple remained as they were until dusk had long since faded into the blackness of night and the heavens were filled with glittering stars.
MacLeod sat up on their sleeping mat with his left knee bent and his right leg folded beneath it. Rising Star sat next to him, her head and flowing dark hair laid against his broad chest. Her slender hand was tucked up under his arms and was gently fondling the scrap of cloth covering his genitals. Mac was trying his best to remain focused on his concerns and not on the erotic caresses the young woman was making.
"Pahana, I will be fine, do not worry so." She lifted her head. As she did, her mane of hair tickled the Highlander's bare chest and nipples which were alr poi pointed and rigid. "It is not like I will be alone. We have enough men to protect us." Her questing fingers trilled a musichrumhrum over his curling chest hair, then down to his navel.
Duncan lifted her hand and firmly replaced it onto the girl's bare lap. "I know if you don't stop doing that, I'll never get out of here. I won't let you leave this room for the next week, and our neighbors gossip about us now as it is," he lovingly chided.
The Catori woman's tinkling laughter melodically filled the small room as she drew away from her husband. "Oh, all right," she sighed, "leave."
Duncan rose up on his hands and knees. As he did so, Rising Star popped his bare butt with the flat of her hand.
"Ow! What was that for?" he demanded in an non-serious tone of voice. "You love doing that to me," the Scotsman observed.
Rising Star pressed a kiss to the already fading, reddened spot on the Immortal's behind. "That is so you will behave and not flirt with anyone else while you're gone, my beloved."
MacLeod gathered the young beauty to him and pressed his searing lips to her forehead, each cheek and finally her waiting mouth. "I never thought I would grow to love someone as quickly as I have you, my sweet one." He lightly chuckled and added, "On that you needn't concern yourself. There is no one else but you, Rising Star."
The Highlander crawled out of their small doorway and picked up the bundle of dried corn, cured deer meat and cornbread Rising Star had prepared. He greeted the other men waiting for him down on the lower floor of the pueblo village. Duncan then glanced back at Rising Star who stood outside the door of their tiny home. As he climbed down the ladder to join the others, his thoughts helplessly flew to the peace and serenity he'd found in this prehistoric community of which he'd only read in books.
I've half a mind to remain here, an errant thought traced through his head.
MacLeod's deep tan glowed a warm russet in embarrassment when Owl and the othriberibe cat catcalled and teased the newlywed. He glanced back up at the girl who stood quietly, watching him leave. Duncan laughed and playfully jabbed Owl's arm in retribution. He waved good-bye to her and then joined the others in their descent down the sloping shelf of debris to the bottom of the canyon.
As she watched her mate and the others weave a path down the cliff's slope and onto the canyon floor, Rising Star couldn't suppress a foreboding feeling, a darkness that portended unhappiness and death. "Watch over him, Great Spirit, keep my beloved safe." Her eyes remained focused upon his tall figure until he'd faded into the distance and out of her sight.
--TBC--
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