Lion Head Mesa [m] Sidewinder

Senet.

An ancient game. Its aim is deceptively simple: remove all your pieces from the board before your partner can. A favored pastime of the court and leisurely way to spend an arid summer afternoon.

But it is also a game about making strong moves and sticking to them.

In the deep cerulean shadows of the palace, Eset waits for the man who will be her opponent. She bows to @Naberius, offering first the neb a drink, and then inviting him to join her in a match.

Eset, it was? He asked after a drink, lifting his head back up and licking wet lips. She was another one of the fellahin and Naberius is left to wonder if he would come to know them all, one way or another. He wonders if a reputation was stirring among the women. He hoped it was good. He knew it all would not be- a slinky creature, a slim ball, arrogant... but, surely at least good in bed and quite patient in his determination for what he wanted, indeed.

The Prince joins her. Wine is poured into a shallow bowl and set to his right, then she lowers herself into a sit before him. She smiles, looking across at him, closely watching his eyes and the tempered question flaring there.

“It is. I regret we have not met sooner, my neb,” though she has watched the prince of sun and sand sands vaunt himself about the palace grounds. “Is everything to your liking here, Lord Naberius? Your meals, and your chamber?” She questions sweetly, lifting idly her paw to trace a finger across the dome of one red pawn.

She begins assembling the pieces upon the low table. For Naberius: white, and for herself: red.

He dips his head for another drink out of the curved wood, all the while watching her carefully in the same manner which she watched him. She held an orange gaze, not far from his own, though her inner portions darkened where his lightened. 

That is quite alright. He lifts his head again, watching her arranged the colored trinkets on the board. Very much so, Eset, thank you. Akashingo's accommodations are quite extravagant. He says with a largez wiry smile on his lips. And then, with admittance, Although at times I do miss the sight of palms swaying in the breeze and running down golden sands. However, there was all free land south-east yet to be well traveled.

“It must be difficult being away from your home. Perhaps our Sesh, Haziel, can assist me in having some palms brought to your room.”

He watches and she invites him to, aligning herself neatly, ensuring what he will see is the cordiality of a palace servant. She studies the Neb, allowing her own eyes to pull lower, sweeping over his lean figure slowly in full before wetting her lips to again speak.

“Have you played before, my Prince?” A gesture made to the board set between them.

Oh? His red-brown ears perked and his nose tips up with interest. I wouldn't object to that. How very kind of you. Another smile. He wouldn't imagine that finding palm fronds would be high on the two do list for the medic, though Naberius had no intention of stopping he nor the fellahin if they had a willingness to do it. 

He is quiet a moment, thinking back on the den-sites and chambers of home, where the areas were mostly lined with palm fronds as ground cover. 

Her body is thin and long as she sits straight and proper before him. Her eyes inviting, wanting for him to look. They did not shy away with the same innocence as @Inji had. His eyes trailed the length of the black undersides of her figure and down to the board. Only a few times before, though it has been quite a long while... His interests had always pulled him far away from this, but not from games entirely. 

Prince, you say... His eyes moved back up to her. He was Lord here, after all. Naberius became more curious. What else have you heard of me?

How familiar his eyes, so very like her own. She sees how he holds himself as if all go eager to his bed, fellahin and divinities alike.

“I’ve heard many rumors, Lord Naberius,” she smiles truly, a full curl of lip. “Though, I wonder if any are true.” Her eyes narrow a moment, taunting him to ask but returns focus to the board. Any challenge is a game, and any game a pleasure.

“Before we begin- the stakes. If you should win, what profits do you seek, my Prince?”

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And many did follow him to his bed, mostly so if even with simple curiosity that the rumors were true. He enjoyed the act far too much and did it far too often to not have learned a thing or two. He was far from the heavy, scarred warrior or dark, silent and brooding type- but what he did know, without a doubt, was how to fuck. 

I image you will have to simply find out for yourself. A furrowed brow raises, regarding her curiously still. 

I wonder... He begins to think then on her words, lifting his head up and eyes narrowing in thought. What profit would he like to gain from the Fellahin? There is a hmmm on his lips. He lowers his head down then to the board. I would like the truth. He decides and flicks his peachy gaze up at her. I will ask you three questions and you will answer them honestly. So many things those of Akashingo were, if not firstly game players and they each played well. Naberius sought to know of things hidden out of sight. Curious as the cat. 

And what would you like should you win, Fellahin?

wanna roll to see who wins? lol

A laugh stirs her throat, gaze averting modestly to the board at his inference.

“Very well, my Prince,” she consents, “you shall have the truth. If I win, I will make a request of you. One which you must honor,” Her eyes dance now between his.

She offers to the neb the four bones which will be used to make his first roll.

“Nobility first.”

Eset wins!

I accept. It is spoken as he lifts a forepaw, pulling the bundle of bones into his direction. He just hoped she didn't plan on forcing his paw to do anything detrimental. If do, she would force him to make a liar out of himself and that simply wouldn't do. 

Nobility first. Naberius lifts the little bones up into his mouth, shakes his head and tosses them out with a spat onto the board.

It is a fine roll, and the neb proves to be a skilled opponent as he advances his pawns along the board. Eset’s own approach is nuanced and feigning. She prefers to save her strong moves for the end.

“It is said you can tell a lot about a player by how he commands his pieces. Do you believe there is any merit in that, lord Naberius?” She asks while freeing a spool. She knew of some who sought to escape their mundane lives by playing ferociously. She wonders with a reticent smile if Naberius feels he has anything to compensate for.

Hmmm.... He ponders, his tongue moving over the length of his creamy jaws. He watches her moves, both of her body and both of her pawns. He offers a mixture of both, not so passive and waiting in his play, a few agressive moves, but he would not waste them all.

Perhaps not always, but often, yes. He feels as though he is in agreement to this theory. Sometimes the same can be said for how he fights in comparsion to how he loves. He murmurs whilst taking his next move.

“I don’t suppose many are generous on the battlefield. Just coarse,” she bites. It’s a challenge, it’s a wager to see how far Naberius allows a fellahin to sink her claws.

She rolls. Her eyes flick to the board. In a final play she clears her remaining pieces. She raises her chin.

“I’m afraid you’re at my mercy now, Prince.”

A brow raises, but he speaks not on this, uncertain of what she may be suggesting. 

A hmmm crosses his lips as he looks to the little trinkets before them. Clearly, he is at a loss. Was this purposefully, or no? 

Naberius smirks, his sunburst eyes of orange and peach looking up to the half-breed. Ahhh...It would appear so.

Her prize was to be a second game. She senses she doesn't need it here. She arcs her spine into a slow stretch instead and trickles around the board into the neb’s side. She did not touch him except with her eyes.

“Take me to your room, Naberius,” her voice hushed, close, as if her head lay on a pillow next to his.

No formalities now, she had won them from him.

The air of seduction she wore would not be missed by Naberius. She is quiet for a time as she lifts and stretches, arching her back and then making way to him. Close, yet not quite close enough. Her eyes do all the talking for her, until... 

As you wish... A whispered breath, his own eyes cast upon her, following the curve of her back and hips as he walks past her and down the red halls. Close as she had been, yet not touching all the same.

“I do wish.” He watches her movements, deliberately graceful as she flanks him like a sidecast shadow.

They are brought to his chambers and under the archway she grazes the span of his shoulder with her’s as she passes. In the center of the room she turns to consider the prince, it is to see the taper in his nose and the desert in his legs and not for the humanity in him.

“I have an idea about the kind of man you are, Naberius. I think you’d rather be teased than pleased. I think you like to hunt for your women. Is this true?” She smiles darkly.

"Ask me your questions."

When they come to his little cove, he leans himself onto the side of the rock opening. One black stripped foreleg crossing over another, as sunburst eyes narrow and watches her brush past as she moves in. 

The place is decorated. Little trinkets here and there- some bones, rocks with striped veins of color, pelts, feathers and the like. Palm fronds would indeed bring some color into the place, dont you think? He muses aloud, half to himself and to her and then pulls himself from the red rock and towards her. 

He falls limply, landing on a laid out deer skin as he watches her and listens. No. He answered, matter-of-factly. While I do find myself enjoying a good hunt from time to time, as many a man may, I do so favor to be pleased. 

He stretches, tilting his head then and thinks. Who do you believe most fit among us to stand at Toula's side as Pharoah?

“Thutmose is strong,  Rashepses brings gifts,” the musing lulls. It is the third she feels shame to turn into iconography. “Senmut is Akashingo.”

A weightless glide arose from her pawsteps. She sinks down into velour beside him.

“Is that what you want to ask? I’m not sure it is a fellahin’s place to entertain a question like that. I would not wish to be accused of favoritism, my Prince,” she replies errantly in a voice gone sweeter; pleasing.

“Ask instead why I am here,” her lips part for a giggle at the crest of his chin, and remain so for a kiss, “ask instead how I can please.”

Eset speaks of the men, one after another. @Senmut spoken last, yet standing out. He had once said that they had only sought courters from outside the realm due to Toula having a lack of brothers. Why not he, indeed? Could Toula only think of him as he faithful servant priest? Under her, but not beside her? Did her love for him extend into more of a brotherly affection instead? Naberius didn't know. Perhaps none did. 

The Fellahin slides down behind him and instead of answer, she pulls the conversation into another direction. Ah, it wasn't her place. Naberius wants to ask 'what was then? Show me', but she is far quicker on the draw- She leans into him, close to his chin, lingering. Hungry, are we?

His smile is as roguish as ever as he draws his tongue slowly along the line of his jaws. Why are you here? His muzzle tilts down, to tip up her chin with his leathery nose and slide it down the underside of her own muzzle and curve along the length of her jawline. How can you please?

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“Because the life of a fellahin is lonely, my Lord. Because you are handsome,” and she arches her neck under his mouth.

“Come to me,” she undulates against him until she is positioned on her side, arms reaching over his wide shoulders, looking with fire into the color of eyes they share.

“And I will always please you,” she strokes a tongue over the pulse of his throat.

“Like this,” her kiss flickers lower.

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Can fade with your next post or here if you'd like. ;)

 

He didn't believe her. Not the first sentence, at least. Where it might have been so for others, in other lands and other fortresses- not here, not when their Queen loved and cherished each as though they were her own blood. She was a Queen devoted to her people- the old, the ugly, the weak and the peasants. The sinners and the sluts. The pure and the sullied blood. @Toula loved them all in ways Naberius had not seen in such a scale before among royalty. 

Eset was not lonely. 

But he was handsome. 

Come to me. He is over her now as she lays on her side among the skins and furs. With each lick and kiss comes a rumble from deep within him. He was not rough nor was he fast. He savored every moment, slow and precise. 

It was true when he said he was a man who favored to be pleased but also, he enjoyed to please. It was a far less enjoyable act when one was dissatisfied. After all, it kept them coming back for more.

Coming back for more was at the crux of the movements choreographed between them, and true to his word she finds in the prince a reverent lover. He leads the motions and she arches in return to catch his chin with her kiss amid low moans that advance into vigorous breaths between them. Eventually she relaxes as her mind moves away from her body and onto a tableau of forces above them, where in her imagination a red spool captures a white cone-

but the board is still amassed with white pieces.