They had gone to war, and he had been left behind to guard the queen.
Arsenio had grown restless in the time since the Pharaoh and his warriors had marched on the Saints, aiming to strike down the white witch and her followers. The Greek man was irritable, even while understanding that his role had never been to fight in the war. Part of him had always believed that he would have been allowed to march with them, like a fellow soldier.
Ah, but they did not deserve the strength of a demigod. Arsenio was forced to remind himself that he had been blessed by Zeus and that the strength of gods flowed in his veins. It was not to be wasted on the likes of the white witch and her measly band of renegades. He was beyond them, beyond all who walked the mortal realm. Arsenio knew that he was bound for Elysium.
The auburn wolf moved to patrol the borders and to protect the mesa from any who might try to attack while the Pharaoh was away.
"arsenio."
tamar did not allow herself to stray far from the queen in these times. she would swiftly return. but at her feet were wrapped leaves, and in them was a meal of tender meat.
"you must keep your strength." all the men in akashingo had gone, save for crowfeather, arsenio, and the fellahin. he was the one with the most strength among them until the others came back.
tamar pushed the bundle across the red sands toward the guard.
Tamar.
The mercenary spoke her name before his eyes had fallen on her. He knew her approach from the cadence of her steps, the way her paws made scarcely a sound as she passed. Arsenio did not need to look at her to know.
The scent of meat filled the immediate air, drawing the cold of his eyes. The Greek man did not listen to the words the maid spoke. His mind turned over thought after thought. It took him several seconds before he realized that he was not aware of who watched over the queen while both he and Tamar were out there. Blinking away thoughts of battle and war, Arsenio lifted his chin and smiled to the autumn woman.
It is kind of you to bring this,
the man said gently, voice rough.
tamar curved her shoulders against the cold.
"i must return to her."
but the girl did not yet go. she lingered upon the crimson soil. "the fellahin are — at her door," she poured out, attempting to justify the fact that the moments ticked by and had not left.
her eyes found his own and remained there for a moment.
Stay here,
he spoke it before he could consider if it was wise.
For only a moment, stay.
The others could tend to the queen and her needs. They would surely send someone if something happened, if Satsu was attacked. The Fellahin did not dare risk the wrath of the Pharaoh, even Arsenio knew this much. There were times when he seemed to forget that Tamar was one of them, a Fellahin who was bound to the service of the woman Satsu.
I will return with you, if you will eat with me,
the Greek offered her with a glance from the edge of his eyes. I have been feeling a soreness in my shoulders, perhaps you could look.
It was a reason, if she needed it.
there was a moment, and then tamar nodded.
arsenio's larger body was a welcome bulwark against the heavy winds that seemed to buffet the mesa at times.
she began to prod lightly against where she could reach of him. the maidservant discovered what might be a tightened muscle and started a firm dragging of her jaw against it.
his crimson fur was filled with many scents. as she breathed, her mind painted images of the places he might have gone.
A moment of hesitation before Tamar nodded her head and approached him. Her silence did not bother him.
Arsenio grabbed one of the leaf-wrapped offerings and placed it between his paws. The chill of the wind bit against him, her touch created goosebumps along his skin. When her jaw pressed against him and ground the tightened muscles, the Greek exhaled a long breath through his nose. His teeth found the meat and he made quick work of it, chewing and swallowing until he felt the lump of it lodge in his throat and drag slowly downward.
Tamar,
the man almost choked her name. He coughed softly, an attempt to clear his throat and force the food down. Arsenio did not know what he wished to say to the autumn maid. He knew only that he liked her presence, so close to his body that he could smell the leaf-fragrance of her coat.
her name again in his mouth; she reddened.
they matched, somehow, red and gold and now flushed beneath the short fur of her face.
the maidservant demanded herself focus more firmly upon the task at hand. she moved behind arsenio, her chest pressed to his spine as she ground out another ridge of tension over his left shoulder.
her head spun. she closed her eyes and continued.
The man groaned softly as the weight of her pressed to his spine. The warmth of her belly upon his back brought his heart to a thrilling pace. Thoughts of food vanished from his mind.
It was impulse that forced Arsenio to spin onto his back. His breath fell quickly as the weight of Tamar arrived upon his belly, his chest, and he looked up at the warm colors of her face with breathless delight. The moments before she would move away from him were cherished. He wished to memorize the sharpness of her features and keep that in him – the smell of herbs and leaves, the light brown of her eyes.
You are… panemorfi,
he whispered.
her arms tightened around his waist.
tamar told herself it was only to brace, to keep herself upright against arsenio.
the world whirled; she scarcely had time for a gasp before she was looking down into the twinned iceblue of his radiant eyes.
there was no breath. there were no words. she was caught. held. her breath shivered and her body tensed along the long warmth of him, but not with fear.
anticipation.
tamar snatched herself away, whirling to face the red earth. "i must return." her voice was a pant. her heart galloped as an ibex.
she raced back to the mesa, not daring to look at arsenio again.
As the autumn maid pulled herself from his arms, Arsenio exhaled. She carried that breath from him, away from that place, and back with her to the mesa.
The Greek man remained there, upon his backside, watching as she faded from his sight. He relished in the moments of touch they had shared, playing the scenes over and over in his mind until he had worked a large lump into the back of his throat and had befuddled himself beyond fixing. Only when the mercenary had been able to calm himself did he move to return to the queen and the other Fellahin.
His mind swam with pictures of Tamar’s brown eyes.