Lion Head Mesa plumes

long after the din in the throne room had died, long after everyone had been dismissed, long after ramesses had enjoyed sayf's company alone, whiling away and away and away — he returned to his own chambers, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind from where he had cleansed himself.
through jawahir, pharaoh sent an invitation for @Satsu to join him. nightfall had come. it would be a late meal, light, and ramesses saw to it himself that more fruit was brought from their storeroom.
he lay across his throne, thrumming with intoxication of many kinds, entirely incandescent — and hopeful.

word had been passed along to her; ramesses requested her presence. satsu tried not to be bothered by the sneer on jawahir's face as it was delivered.
there was time to decorate herself if she wished but satsu had tamar dismissed, letting her have the night to herself.
the withered scent of dry meadowfoam followed satsu as she pranced to where her fiancee waited; she dipped beneath the archway and drew close to where dinner had been laid out. it smelled sweet, from the fruit.
the image of maggie surfaced and satsu feigned deep interest in the meats to compensate, saying nothing.

satsu smelled of flowers and was silent.
ramesses was annoyed, to have gone to so much trouble to send his favourites away and give the queen ascendant his full attention.
arsenio's face lingered in his mind, and irritated him further. or maybe it only shifted all of these emotions to the guard himself, away from satsu. "how are you enjoying the roman's soldier at your door?"
a heavy question. ramesses chewed on the sweet burst of a berry and watched her in quietude.

satsu does not detect the tension in the air between them until ramesses speaks, his breath warm and sweet with fruit. the topic he begins with gives satsu pause as her mind is preoccupied, but she remembers arsenio, the corners of her lips downturning.
i forget he is there often, she lied; it was hard not to think of the red-coat man when she was preparing for her sleep, though she did not think of him fondly.
the woman nibbles at some of the dried meats, lacking any real appetite.

she eyes the berries, thinking of slate—of maggie, and swallows.
have you enjoyed communing with your generals?
the sensō komon was something of an oddity to satsu; her father had never let her attend them, only her eldest brother had that right. she wondered sometimes what the men would get up to without a lady present.

ramesses did not respond immediately. he had seen her eyes hover upon the berries, and with a flourish lowered his muzzle to sweep them closer.
"forgetting one's servants is a fitting mark of royalty." it was the sort of praise only he might give, and his own mouth welcomed satsu to the upper echelon of power in akashingo.
his generals. "i have one oaf. one madman. one physician who does not wish to be here. and the imperator, who i have recently named royal chief tactician to akashingo, loathes me. our fathers hated one another, and their fathers before them."
ramesses laughed softly. "it has been enjoyable. unpredictable." pharaoh's appetite never faltered, and he slowly cut a piece of meat between his incisors.
"you understand that to keep up our ruse, you must welcome me to your rooms, and come to mine."
how salacious even the maintaining of a chaste marriage. ramesses wondered how long satsu might guard herself after the wedding.

the berries shuffled away from her.
she listened as he explained, intrigued by the way he saw each of the men, and far less amused by their unpredictable nature—or the nature of war at all really—than he.
biting in to a fresh piece of apple or some such now, which burst across her tongue in time for pharaoh's comment.
her brows raised.
i am here now, am i not. another thought came to her then, and she boldly reached towards him, only to take some of the over-ripe fruit for herself and lay it beside a portion of the remaining meat, nearest to the teeth marks she'd left behind.
then, as if nothing had happend at all, she went on:
i presumed your legs were too tired by the night, or you'd have walked on your own.

pharaoh had meant to make satsu gap, cause her an unkiltered step. but the queen remained poised, and soon reached for a piece of the giddyfruit.
her comment brought the near-silence of the throne room alive with his rich laughter for a moment. he reached for another berry, pushing the pile between them where they might both reach it.
"you know me, my sweet," the egyptian purred. he wondered if she had rethought his invitation of a lover. "after our wedding feast as well. we must share the same chambers for seven days. and after this, you will come here one night in a week, and i will come to you in another. as late as you wish."
ritual. schedule. "servants need a routine or they will begin to flap their jaws." ramesses did not wish satsu to be shocked or surprised when their guests had left and he swept grandly to her chambers. 
and he did not mean to sleep on the floor as her serving girl did. 
"now. have you considered how best to make the physician stay here at the mesa?" another berry. pharaoh began to scintillate with a light pleasant buzzing.

the laughter of the man swelled like the sea, booming around her. it was almost too much. she remained demure, taking a piece of meat between her teeth, eyes downcast to her meal while he guffawed and praised, and plotted, and taught.

she eyed the fruit she had pilfered from him.
it was the sort of thing that men enjoyed together. plenty of men of her previous han indulged on rations of old fruit after their long days toiling for her father. the guard that served him were rewarded with the same - a nicer variety perhaps, cleaner tasting, but nothing special.
it made all of them the same: foolish and bold.
satsu had not yet decided if she would indulge.

when next ramesses spoke it was to bring up crowfeather—
i had word with germanicus. i entreated that he tell the boy a truth so that he could choose a better path. but she had no knowledge of how that had resulted yet. she worried that regardless of her will, or the influence of the grizzled man, crowfeather would remain devoted to the ronin way of life.
we will see what happens.

"good," pharaoh declared. his eyes were bright with indulgence, and for a short while he only watched satsu .
she seemed weighed by many things, but ramesses did not ask after them. his was a hierarchy in all things. he and she had their own aims and desires, and he saw fit to expect satsu her own thoughts.
"i spoke with crowfeather myself," pharaoh hummed. he reclined upon one pristine elbow and traced his eyes over satsu's regal coolness. "i told him to take the soldier to bed."
he grinned regardless of whether or not her countenance shifted. "what a little intrigue we have, queen ascendant."

the look on her face becomes slightly unhinged, as she withholds a laugh of her own, or a groan, as the very idea of men together amuses satsu in a way she has no words for. the idea of crowfeather taking anyone to bed makes her stomach drop; but the thought of it being germanicus is too far-fetched.
she knows not the kind of love between a soldier and their squire.
to make up for her aggrieved expression satsu hurries and eats something. it is the fruit that bursts upon her tongue - the flavor strong and tannic, the flesh somehow soft and leather at once.
she sputters and yet forces it down while her throat feels thick.

ah: there it was. ramesses observed satsu with a newly affectionate amusement, growing and tendriling into a solemn want that was quite disconnected from his usual lasciviousness.
"i treasure you, satsu," he said at last. the lapis eyes searched her face. was it drink that loosened his tongue or the look of her features?
"not in the way of a pet or a servant," he hastened on, readjusting his willowy limbs. "i am simply grateful to have even one true equal." ramesses had never shown gratitude a day in his life. the feeling was unfamiliar.
to quiet himself he did the same. another berry bursting below his tongue.

were his words genuine, or was it the berries that warmed her so?
satsu had not allowed herself to truly accept her role. she tried to mitigate disaster by accepting her place, as always, and to act in accordance with what she thought was needed, but she did not view herself as a queen in any way. she had servants, guards, and this man before her, each pledged in some way to her service, yet still she was only a lost girl.
could she play her role forever?
another berry, and a third; eating so that she cannot speak the foolish thoughts to life. unable to look upon pharaoh now and gathering crimson to her cheeks and throat as if she were made of the very redstone of their kingdom.

and ramesses would not stop her.
instead the pharaoh sought to match her drinking, the lapis eyes caressing how the fruit left their stain upon her cheeks and lips. he recalled the first time he had seen satsu, crouching near water. she had been unaware of her elegance then, but now — now!
pharaoh admired her and let this be known in the way he continued to look.
the air between them thrummed. the honey of drunkenness was upon ramesses. 
he was silent, wanting, earnest.

the way he looked at her had never failed to make her fret and fidget. it had been this way since their meeting. she had grown accustomed to avoiding his stare, or finding value in the presence of others to direct his eye, but the eye trained now upon her and her only.
the intensity was all in her mind, satsu reminded herself; ramesses liked pretty things and things he could use, and she had fulfilled that vision as much as she was able, but not to the quota he was used to.
and they were alone together.
drinking, even!
where was jawahir? or maggie; oh, but she remembered. she remembered and so she reached for more.
her aim was slightly off and the sight of her body weaving where before she had been so self assured made her smile wide and genuine, and laugh, girlish and bright, at once.
my father, he gave apples and cherry wine to peasants for their work, she lightly drawled.
to the samurai went the sake. he forbade his daughters, the more she thought of him and voiced her memory, the weaker her smile became; but the more she ate, and soon enough satsu could feel her skin humming.

satsu spoke of her father. of drinks and peasants and daughters below the control of the one who had sired them. "never forget, satsu, that here you are queen."
her laughter, high and crystalline, was the greenery growing upon the edges of the nile. and the curve that lit her mouth swelled an indescribable feeling inside the pharaoh's chest.
his chuckling dissolved into the night. the mention of daughters had put him into mind of heirs, which now drew his mind to sundry other places. notably, how akashingo might begin to murmur when the flanks of their queen remained uptucked and slim long after the springtime had ended,
"your father would give the wine of fruit to peasants. but here i am pharaoh and here you are queen of akashingo." neither of them servants. and satsu's mouth stained with the redness. "do you suppose he would be pleased to see where you now stand?" ramesses sought, captured a moment by how the touch of fruit had darkened her lips, her throat.

the taste of the fruit was at times too much to bear, yet she indulged in small portions all the same. it felt freeing in a way that satsu did not have words for; she was warm in ramesses' presence and somehow aware of everything while a haze descended around them. only them.
and as the pharaoh spoke satsu tried to follow along, finding it easier to relax her body against the stone floor and sprawl a little, as she had when confronting germanicus.
he wouldn't give a thought to it, she remarked suddenly.
for the great daimyo sadasane, women were 'pretty things to keep men warm,' meant to be silent so as not to 'disturb the peace'. as she said these things she took on a gruff mockery of her father's voice; yet even as she did this, there was a sense of nostalgia that prickled at the corners of her eyes.
soon satsu could not see the food or fruit before her, and only ramesses, who was a golden blur in the dim light. aureate, faceless. he would roll in his grave to know his line continues in a daughter rather than a son; but in a way i suppose it ends with me.
now was not the time of sadasane.
now it was satsu, it was ramesses; and she now touched upon the idea already brewing in his mind.

ramesses mirrored satsu. he lay down sphinxlike. only the remnants of their meal remained between the pair, easily swept aside. he watched her speak more flowingly; he heard the sound of her language once more. she harboured old pain behind her brightened eyes.
and somehow satsu saw fit to come upon the very thing he had been pondering. pharaoh took this as a sign from some provential god, Wepwawet perhaps, and crossed forelegs at the ankle.
"his line ends. yours could begin."
in explaining the process of deception, ramesses had avoided this. and now he skirted its corner with careful paws. 
she glowed before him. he did not wish to see such elegance squandered.
when they were married, only heirs might come from satsu. ramesses could fill a thousand bellies with his children and not a one of them would have claim to the glory that akashingo would be.
but she knew the ways of men. she knew how her father had regarded the fairer wolves. and here she was upon the precipice of queenliness. he was not here.
"he cannot haunt your life inside these lands." ramesses slowly lapped berry juice from his own mouth. the room swelled and spun and there was at once only her.

the world shimmered.
she watched ramesses and thought he ate more of the berry, but then realized she was watching his lips, the stain to them, the movement of tongue. she looked away after.
satsu looked to her meal, what was left of it, and pushed the remaining fruits away with a soft touch. there was not much meat left either. time felt as if it had stalled.
he is gone, they are all gone.
she stood up and wavered, sinking to her haunches.
i should not claim the ushiyo name any longer, it is dead.
her eyes watered again, and this time she was not mindful enough to do anything about it. there was a grim smile on her face now, the laughter having vanished, her body swaying minutely as if a breeze pulsed at her.
you have many names— pharaoh, ramesses, likely others in his languge she had not heard, even some that only jawahir held for him in private. as husband, will you name me? am i to become satsu— satsu-ramesses, or, her words slurring.
nekubi, nekubi satsu, of the red sand.
she shook her head, or started to, then stopped when the world spun.

satsu was drunk. ramesses felt himself sway as well. the morsels were swept away and he passed over them with a single step to support her as she wove and swayed. so the queen would not claim the name of her father. for that pharaoh was grateful.
he felt the heat of her against him. "you will have many titles. queen. nekubi satsu," he murmured. the room pulsed and hummed under his gaze. he wanted to press his mouth against her throat and feel the great vein there, pulsing with all the fierce essence yet untasted.
"but i have already chosen a name for you. Sobekneferu. the beauty of Sobek." ramesses did not caress her, only held them together for a long and unending moment. "He is the god of the waters. no one would dare brave the jaws of Sobek. and he has few choices. you are powerful and yet you do not know that you have are His chosen."
"Nekubi Satsu," he said again, and this time as he had done in the pool pharaoh put his words near her ear, blurred with drink as they both were. "Sobekneferu, She of the Red Sands and the Lotus War, Queen to Akashingo, Beloved of Userma’atre’setepenre, the Morning Star."
all these her names, and more beside.
his lazuli eyes caught her own for a sharpened second.

he swept close, his body warm, his breath sweet.
so-he-na- she tried to sound out what he had called her, her tongue wrapping the word in the syllables of her father's language, and failing, as they were so different.
she was blushing madly and it was hard to tell if the drink was the root cause or his proximity, or the feeling of his breath on her ear. the surfacing of one particular memory: the wellspring — the bits of frenzied dream.
satsu leaned in to him to keep herself steady.
ne-ku-bi... nekubi satsu, she sighed in to his coat, all the fervor having left her.
it was time to sleep, she thought, fully ignorant of the desires burning in the man.

tag for ref! <3

the ardor in him died a slow and reluctant death. satsu lolled against his shoulder, near insensible. her breath sent heat against his skin with her murmurings.
ramesses had desired her from the first, but when he knew it would at last come to fruition, it would not be messy with drink and with tension still thrumming between one another.
he wished to be desirable. satsu would not want to wake here, or think that they had lain with one another and that she did not remember. it would be a grave disrespect to such a careful creature to let her sleep within his chambers, and be forced to walk the long corridors back to her own.
a sharp chuff for tamar and @Arsenio now. at first there was no sound and then there was stretching, clicking; the servant girl padded muzzily before the royals. she was exhausted from a fitful sleep in the hallway outside, waiting for satsu to have finished her visit to her betrothed's chamber.
"your queen has drunk quite a lot. see that she drinks water before she is put to bed, and be ready at her bedside with more when she wakes. summon the physician in the morning. she may be quite sickly tomorrow."
entrusting satsu to the care of her maid and the strong, untrustworthy arms of her scarlet guardian, pharaoh walked as far as his own doorway, watching his intended be carried away.
and when they had gone he did not call for sayf or jawahir; ramesses lay upon his own sleeping pelts and fell into dreams tinted the color of his queen's eyes.