Mistress of the Elements: Storm/Ororo fanfic

Chapter 15- fated

The goddess followed Jongikhaya through a series of hallways and corridors. Ororo could not remember the way back, but she could now see her children sway to and from his body like the great tides. They stretched themselves over and around him, ignited further still by the power that lay within.
He held nothing back now. She watched his shoulders, always alert but somehow slumped. The scent coming from him was like nothing she knew. He worried, he stayed- proud, arrogant, potent, intrigued. Jongikhaya was ripe for subservience, and Ororo could feel her body squeeze at the thought.
They walked along a long tunnel now, much like the one from their first meeting.
And then a strange thing happened: a door opened- but not in the physical world. She continued walking but simultaneously Ororo found herself in a small room with the warrior- her subconscious split.
"We are almost there, and I must speak before we are."
The goddess continued to watch him. In the dream world, he was much the same, but he wore thinner and lighter clothes, with his beautiful physique enshrouded by a dim gold light.
Jongikhaya continued, "long ago, the Most powerful Yaxola warrior in the tribes was a woman named Ngtharabu. She possessed all of the powers that manifest in the tribes, and because of that her power and strength was unparalleled. Ngtharabu was the greatest warrior and leader our tribe has known and she could not be satisfied by any mortal man or woman." He paused, "eventually, she found the love of a god but because she was mortal, their relationship could only exist in the dream world. Ngtharabu longed for her lover every day... It is said that on her death bed, they stayed together- half in the dream world and half in the physical, and when she took her last breath it was in ecstasy."
Jongikhaya looked almost resigned as he leaned at the foot of great bed at the center of the room.
"I still don't understand Warrior." She crossed her arms to her chest, knowing full well the view it presented to her company.
Jongikhaya cleared his throat as he looked at her, "since her death, every Yaxola has a window that they can develop and use with their lovers-"
"Ah, so that is where we are? Your... window?"
"Yes... but the window can only be fully opened with your Fated."
"Fated?" She repeated, unable to fully grasp what the Warrior implied.
He stood and crossed the room toward her. "For every Yaxola, there is only one that can open the window- just as there was only one lover for Ngtharabu. Only one to share your Psychic ki pathway and... only one that can bare your fruit. The Fated."
The information registered fully and Ororo stepped back from him. "And you are suggesting that I, am perhaps your Fated?"
"Not suggesting, Ororo." His eyes fell upon her hungrily but she would not entertain his desires- instead she countered.
"How can it be anything but suggestion?" She spoke louder now. "In the first, I am not of your people. In the second, I am sorry to say we are not acquainted in that way." Jongikhaya raise his eyebrows at the suggestion. "And third, but more importantly.... your people are trafficking children that I have promised to protect." She waited for her answer, and wondered if he felt it's full gravity given that she wore only a chemise in their shared vision.
Jongikhaya sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly- the particles finding their way to her body, tingling the nape of her spine and sides.
"You made no such promise, but I understand your sentiment."
"How do you-"
"The same way you know this-"
"It was intuition-"
"No. It was the connection... search your memories. Tell me, why am I telling you all this?"
Ororo shook her head. Surely he could not be serious.... But how else could she have known about the youth? Their faces, the details of their powers, all of this, she knew in detail. She tried to recall the details about the legend she had just heard but was confronted with a vision of the younger version of the head elder singing to her son.
"And now Ngtharabu has entrusted you with her powers just when we need her most."
"Does that mean I can only be loved by a God?" The boy asked.
"My child, they will all love you, but only one will ever be your fated. And when you find them- god or mortal- you will bring the heirs our tribes need to rebuild our strength."
A more familiar version of the man before her kneeled in front of his mother and the other 2 elders.
"Excellent work! Yaxola birth rates have increased for the first time in 2 generations thanks to our new citizens." Umelai touted.
"Some have requested to return home." Jongikhaya stayed seriously with his head still bowed.
"Certainly not. The Yaxola have given them a gift- a true honor- integrating them as we did instead of moving them along to the next trader!"
"And," Mare'ng added, "we cannot afford to have the land tribes know more of us than they already do. We will not be able to sustain or support the number of requests for aid that would inevitably follow."
Jongikhaya balled his fists, "but their requests still stand, elders. They want to go home."
An uncomfortable silence falls among them before his mother speaks.
"These requests will not be heard. Ngtharabu has allowed them passage into our tribes as Fated and are, therefore, more Yaxola than any affiliation above. We cannot defy Ngtharabu's will. Those who are too young or unpartnered by the month's end will be returned to the traders. They will be of no use here and we must limit the number of outsiders among us lest we dilute our legacy further."
She turned away to busy herself, leaving the warrior to stare at their backs.

"Enough." Ororo spoke with finality. She felt sick to her stomach with the lingering regret and futility still clinging to Jongikhaya's memories.
"Do you deny it now?"
"I do not." Ororo paused- noting that she had now closed the distance between them in the physical world. The door to the dream world had closed. "And  just as surely, you must know that I will have no part of Yaxola affairs. Fated or no- I will not turn a blind eye to this slavery." She closed her eyes and thought back to her swim in the channel. "Africans have endured enough suffering in this world..." she whispered.
Ororo felt a surge of winds shift and Jongikhaya gently caressed her cheek. The back of his fingers barely touched her smooth chocolate skin and yet she felt her jaw and shoulders relax as her pheromone production increased. The mere whisper of his touch had brought on a wave of desire that her children would not allow her to disguise.
When she opened her eyes, the Warrior was smiling at her. His left hand encircled her waist while the right hand held softly to her cheek. His smile was gentle and mischievous- as if he knew every inch of her body's reaction despite her redirecting the elements around them.
"I have waited for you a long time, and wether you accept it or not, you have been waiting for me." His thumb began to stroke the underside of her jaw, as the winds between them licked her curves.
Ororo pushed the elements away in one violent swoop. "You bow to all whom you service- your people, your elders- and even me, a stranger. But where does your true alliance lie? Will you do what is right only when it pleases you? Or only-" in a moment they had changed positions and it was she who now held his jaw in one hand, while teasingly gliding her hands up and down his stomach muscles, "when you have something to gain?"
Jongikhaya smiled and looked unbothered by her words or actions. It both surprised and frustrated the witch but she would not show it.
Suddenly the warrior looked out to the sea, "it appears your ride is here."
Storm looked in the same direction as she felt the waters part for a small craft skimming the ocean floor.