Lion Head Mesa the [m]arble hall

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backdated to july 14th <3

senmut was near-dizzy when he was at last bathed and returned to his chambers for the evening. he drank a cup of wine to steady himself, but it was not the effect of the substance he wanted, it was @Legend.

still, he had cups waiting for them both when he sent one of the fellahin for the mazoi. the prince fair stalked around the chamber. he did not think he had ever felt the touch of such a strong desire, and did not know how to comprehend it.

when her tread came to the doorway, senmut drew a breath and turned.

I just wanna be yours.

Hours waiting. Just her, alone, pacing through the day after a dismissal that commanded stay. There came that spinning. where he left her guessing, thinking, and running through every word he used to cut through her scalp. She had smiled to herself, running through the sudden ember that had sparked long before she noticed. Long before she knew how easy it would grow, and sit, and burn. She liked that. Nor was he easy. She liked that more. It had been on top of the mesa in turning, thin wrists that she was touched by the voice of a Fellahin, and it had certainly not been them she came for.

Immediate, mindless following that took her through corridors, halls and corners. Polished, perfected steps that her pads perfectly curved into and walls that danced with stories.

And there the entrance.

If it was her presence she wanted, then that was he got. There was no hesitation, no dithering, no wait as her entire frontal dipped in bow. There was nothing but her body slipping through the opening at a steady pace that did not stop. His scent sank into her throat, touched her tongue, burned her mind, and soon she was by his side. His fur. His eyes. His figure. His body. She caught all of it as she came in. She saw him, smelled him, and was so close to touching him as she captured him in her now circling steps. A gentle smile and soft eyes rested on her features. Eyes down, head down, her flank always to him and her tail limp when it was not curling to the side. Her skin was lit afire. She liked this game. She liked him. "Is this where you wanted me?" her muzzle quirked gently below his head level towards him, her eyes finding themselves sitting upon his, and they ate her alive.

senmut found his mouth dry as kindling, for silver met the greenery of his own face, and he felt himself consumed by their lambent depths. there could be no confusion that legend had come of her own accord and in full knowledge, that despite her warrior's body and the tasks she had completed beyond the wilds, here she was supplicant to him.

he became dizzyingly aware of their closeness; the man who had commanded her atop the mesa was not here at present, only senmut and his shyness. still he straightened. he was prince and he would not be found wanting in the esteem of that title.

"yes," he told her, and though the man found he could scarcely pull away, he stepped lightly around her frame and indicated the cups of wine sitting for them. "drink with me," senmut urged in a voice from which he could not completely dispel an eager raggedness.

his eyes did not leave her.

And his mind did not leave hers.

He came around her in fluidity. Her head followed, and as if his flank had brushed her face, she leaned into it. It did not, and yet to her it did. It did not matter. She believed it to have, and to her it did. His air stroking her was enough, and it expelled her own from her lungs. He would not have known it. He didn't need to. If he did, she would not mind, that his passing frame let her bathe in, savor the feeling of being airless after it quietly left her nose. "Yes." To his voice, there was immediate obedience. The backs of his legs were followed by her until her body was in front of one of the cups.

In a sit, her legs tucked, her neck bowed down and her mouth pointed towards the wine as its scent burned down her nostrils. In the air of his own, she relished in how it complimented the air in his chambers and him. Yet, she did not drink. He asked to do so together, and when her tongue collided with the cup, she wished that together the sting of it rushing down their throats would be felt in unison. Unless he told otherwise.

and drank they together, priest and guardian, in a silent communion of heat to cool parched throats and whet the moment until senmut found himself caught in the dark red velvet of the wine's sensation.

here now he stepped toward legend, and the trailing of sistrums were in his mind, and there was a soft exhale as he at last pressed his mouth to her cheek. 

nightfall silk, indulgent to his touch. the prince's heart galloped; raced; he felt his blood heat, felt the flush unfurl across his cheekbones and down into the red pall of his chest. his touch remained soft, near unsure, but the musicality of his very humming existence beside legend soon boldened him, and quietly he twined rangy crimson arms around her and found the moonbeam eyes once more with the gems of greenstone given him.

no words would form.

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Oh, how he'd now long gone, the caller. No longer so bold and royal. He'd gone timid, for a time. Far more quiet. Had it been he to second guess himself? She did not hope that! She never second guessed herself. Never thought twice when she wanted something. Did he? Or did he want more. She wondered how much he wanted. How much he wanted her. How much this fed him. If he knew how much it fed her, then she wondered if there'd come a point that he'd lack the restraint he had now and put her on the floor. If he commanded, she would lay him; though, she did not want that at all. She wanted to watch his frame grow, and see him come to her.

But if he did not want to, and if he had other plans, they did not have to. It had not been just lust that drove her back to his chambers. They did not need to. She would not argue. Hours of pacing and minutes of quietly sitting before him with legs that had now been told they'd needily part if he pushed them to. Every moment spent staring into the souls of his eyes was far more riveting, intoxicating, and numbingly suffocating than any drowning thought of his bed or wine; though she wanted both. The remaining fragments of his sultry, she starved to taste again, and yet she would lap up silence. And she would lap up doing nothing but conversing in pure. He could lead it where he wanted. She would follow.

Then he stood.

Seth left her.

He called her his raven, and he left her. Alone.

Immediately, it was Senmut's eyes that cleansed her own of all thought. It was his eyes that she followed, staying firmly in a sit as her limbs begged to break out of it. A slow, soft beat of her tail as her head came around to follow his, and a gentle voice that asked filthy, filthy things. It had not even been a whisper. It had been a question that she ensured he heard, and one that released from her mouth long before she thought it. "Will you have me?" A true, genuine question, as if his answer would be God and a blessing she wished he'd give her. He was a priest. He could give that to her. A smile, coy as it was and yet nothing but enchanted, excited, sat on her lips, and it was soon his mouth against her cheek that brought her tail into a puppish, rapid beat that would exhaust itself from how he made it behave. Her own lips brushed softly into his cheek, her nose gently inhaling his scent before she came to a stand and her head trailed down his throat. It was there on him that she licked, running her tongue up his neck, forcing them to walk in a tight circle simply because there was an instinct to make him chase. A chase she had no intention of making hard, and she did not, because it would give her the gentle embrace of him. 

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it was not the act itself which paused senmut in this moment, it was the anticipation of a connecting that he was not certain he had the ability to comprehend. he circled in legend's dance steps on limbs he scarcely felt, something hot as the touch of an eternal ice jarring its way along his flesh to heart to muscle to loins, and he saw at last what he sought in melody as a conduit. not the glow of sun, but the flash of starlight above a red desert, the bloodstains of their hemming refleshed now in the one who held senmut snared.

a wisping of guilt, a withdrawal into contemplations of nazli, she who shyly inhabited the warm homeland of his secret unspoken heart; she who he saw in himself, and he in her, fellahin who had ascended above the backflung provincial poverty into something more. 

in the end, they had both ascended beyond themselves, though his rank as prince was reflection of akashingo's grandeur, and what nazli had endured was the stamp of the palace's shame. his love for her, genuine and simmering only you, but he could not let desire touch it.

now he was offered worship and eagerly reached for the honeyed bite upon that platter; another dangerous game, to glut himself and whet his want on the eager knife's edge of legend. and yet for him, she wished to be the same sort of conduit, and with his priest's eyes he saw her, and lusted in two ways: both for her body and secondly, for her devotion, to know, to see, that legend worshipped him as he was reverent to Amun.

hubris beneath her tongue, filling his mouth.

finally senmut found himself a prince once more, and with eyes turned from sunbright viridian to shadowcast emerald, his edict was swift. her nightbound figure was embraced with scarlet limbs that fair trembled in his enchantment, and in the splendor granted him, of fine pelts and polished redstone, of arched ceilings and the crush of flowers expanding beneath the lavish couch, he moved as he had not before, as if he were possessed, and perhaps indeed he was.

undone, untangled, uncomplicated by her reverence, voices in tremulous winding together, and all of senmut in truth, laying in exhausted wonder thereafter that he had never sought this, and that legend still had given him all that he had not known he desired.

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And maybe just now, she was reminded, and she remembered, that he was truly gone. That he'd left her. That after doing her best, doing all that she could, being his perfect angel, that he left her. That after looking to him as a god, he left her. It was real, and it had happened, and his scent was fading. The pain upon her throat where he had once pierced was little to none. There was nothing left of it to remind her of him, no shock down her neck that let her relish in his presence and command.

Had she not done good enough? Had she done wrong? In steps of circles and tease, those questions attacked her body and her mouth came to a quiver, her lips bringing forth a whine. There came that begging, her tail trying to tap the ground as reality started to set in. Make it go away. Make it leave. She didn't like these thoughts! To Senmut, she came to a split-second sit, lapping at the air in his direction with her tongue, swiping his fur with her flank, asking him forward, wanting him to come to her stronger than he was, and then she stood.


Fine then. If he wanted to leave her, he could do that. He could go his own way, do his own things, be his own man. Without her. Without his raven.

And she would make him regret every second of it.

Her worship was given and fell to another being. Another god. Another wing under holy that wanted her, and she made it clear she wished to know all about him in gentle brushes against his fur, intimacy beyond a body- and oh, how she had wished to be ravished too, she loved it, her attention was far from gone. Far from away. Lustful, wild laughs at times. Eye contact, touch, keeping her mouth close or against his, coupled with big, expressive eyes lost in distinct innocent wonder.

____________

When it was done, when they decided they were done after endless starvation on empty stomachs, they were collapsed beside one another. Her nose had a slight run to it from the warmth, it had been moments of recovering and silence, and for a moment, she would wonder if he'd leave.
But these were his chambers.

His chambers, his chambers, his chambers! When her long settled breath had finally caught, that cheeky smile finally crept back up her lips again. "Prince, you take all new mazoi to your chambers?" A little Joker! He was fun. Looking towards his nose bridge, she stretched on her side! 

"not at all." his breath, caught, mellowed; he pulled her close and ran polished claws through the obsidian of her flank, leaving a quartet of satin furrows; "i have lain with no one since a fellahin, a while ago, and not one who is here now."

carnality was something rarely sought; senmut did not question his past decisions to be chaste, believing it had led to this sort of moment, where every year of celibate piety had been given back to him at once, sevenfold, enthralling every part of his flesh until only to think of what they had done sent desire scorching like new wine in his blood.

his tongue smoothed the moisture of her nose; he lay back against the richly pelted cushions and sighed, sated in heart but with his wondering about her still thirsty, still unglutted.

"are you so devoted to all princes?" senmut teased in return, melted against the soft warmth of legend, who had indeed become her name!

Perhaps she'd have moved. Perhaps, without intervention, she'd have left their prince to his chambers where he could bask in dim light and wines. To be in, to be out, and to not question. It was the wrap of his arms that pulled her close, the kiss to her nose that struck warmth over her spine, and the firmness of his chest that changed codes.

His scent was a wash, his skin and room like luxury she had never been permitted to before. Her body soaked in it. Rolling along the sheets of bedfurs beneath them, her eyes gazed across the ceilings and walls again, her legs stretching and moving as if she'd never felt something so serene and soft. It was in the crook of his arm that she stopped, pressing her forehead to his body while the top of her muzzle gently rubbed his fur. She'd shown enchantment with wonders that were new to her, open in ways she'd never been given before, all laid out before her in simple things. A soft bed made her diamond mind dance. "Yes," her voice prodded.

"All prince- all royalty is to be devoted to. And the blood of a priest drenched in Ra who is worshipped and who I have vowed to. A holy prince. That is worship to him, yes?" A lick of a sultry smile, hidden under coy, jester layers that both taunted and gave. Secrets, and yet none at all to the immediate attention if he slipped away her words. She played with them. Her smile dropped to flat lipped with big, curious doe eyes.

"Our gods." With an extended paw, she pressed against his face before returning her limb. A pawing gesture- she wanted his attention before her eyes quickly shied elsewhere. "I know only so many. Only the almighty the desert demands in full. I learn- more, in Akashingo?" Then her eyes were on him again, smile in tact.

our gods, and he kissed the inside of her wrists with lingering honey to his mouth. they moved together as idols of jet and redstone, and now in intimate peace they lay twined.

senmut felt every part of him fulfilled, the hungers staved, the restlessness dissipated. was this all the secret? another body in one's bed, another's warmth to mingle with his own. the conversation of gods and man; the meeting of mettle and might in a place known by no battlefield.

"i will teach you," senmut said, for though to the shadows legend belonged, he did not want to lose her to this long and unknown desert into which they both would go. priest first; prince second; lover only in this moment as he kissed her mouth featherlight.

"and you will have the favor of the gods, as you have mine."

Last from me! Thank you so much for this awesome thread. They're so fun!

A whimsical kiss across her wrist sealed the gentle air. It was thin. Soft to breathe, and easy to a point that she felt tipped over by the lightest touch. His chest spoke birdsong; she listened.

For a dark road pathing itself, there formed light above their heads, and in hers, she felt a spring mornings sun. Her head was spinning as it also stilled. His chamber was nice. His voice was nectar in the air, to which she looked to when he spoke with wafchful eyes. A soft smile sat on her lips. Those big eyes of hers lit right up in the subtlest of openings. He offered to teach. He told of favor. Then she showed infatuation, and undeniable willingness.

"I will learn."

She stayed with him until she couldn't any longer. If it meant for minutes longer, or hours, or until the next shift of day started, it would be at his call that she slipped away.