Lion Head Mesa ashes

tamar ventured outside akashingo's heavy walls at dusk.

she was not alone here. the wolves and the others came and went. there was an encampment of strangers on their borders. talk of war hung in the air in whatever room her ears might be. she wished to escape it.

now tamar stood and gazed at the round moon beaming down upon the flatlands.

in another world, her mother looked at the same moon and prayed for the return of her daughter.

The cold blue of his gaze had not missed the streak of autumn colors that had slipped from the queen's dark chambers. Arsenio followed the shape of Tamar as she slipped further and further. 

Impulse drove him to follow. 

Arsenio trotted behind the auburn woman, believing that Satsu would appreciate a moment of peace. He did not plan to be gone for long. The auburn figure did not wish to suffer the loss of an important job. 

Tamar, the rogue called, singsong and out of tune.

I promise I won't take all of them... ^^;

i literally would not mind <3

the maidservant had just opened her jaws to whisper back when arsenio's voice sounded. her hackles lifted with irritation, but the girl lay them flat as soon as she was able.

"is the queen with pharaoh?" tamar sought an opportunity to flee elsewhere. she could feel the guard's eyes upon her, always. he never stopped. 

she refused to look in his direction.

The maidservant bristled visibly, Arsenio grinned at the spike of hairs along her nape and shoulders. Where had such a fire come from in a servant girl? Who was the wolf Jawahir to have lured her into the Pharaoh’s possession? The misthofóros had not yet met the ruler of the mesa, but the man cast an imposing shadow by way of the words of his people.

Tamar, do you not like the way I look? the auburn wolf inquired, his voice light. Though he did not move to stand in front of her, the guard did position himself beside her. He sighed a content little noise before glancing toward the autumn maid and grinning.

The dark little medic has appointment with the lady queen. Arsenio shrugged at this, as if to say that it was reason enough to leave his post for a short time.

he mocked her. tamar continued to burn within herself, though she made herself show a calm that was not felt inside. the look of the moon soothed her against the abrasion of arsenio's presence.

"i do not look at men." no, she was satsu's servant, through and through. the delicate royal woman did not stint upon her commands. and tamar knew the look of the blackfurred doctor. "that is the royal physician. crowfeather." did he know nothing?

"they study." she had once observed them sitting together but with none of the looming lust in pharaoh's eyes. she had never been to the stone apartments kept by pharaoh. only the doctor visited there, and in the evenings, jawahir or her pretty companion. or both of them.

"the queen and pharaoh are not yet married." tamar spoke openly, knowing her words would keep arsenio's questions at bay. "she is only in the company of women until then. but the medic treats both she and pharaoh." the pale honey of her eyes had traveled to the guard. she meant to slight him by leaving him from mention in satsu's retinue.

I would have you look at me, Arsenio said to her, confident and rough against his throat as he spoke it. Your gaze is not likely to entrance me. I am a mercenary, not a savage. Was it fear that guided her eyes to the ground, the walls, the distant moon each time that he was around her? The auburn wolf did not understand what she believed he might do to her, without the permission of those she belonged to.

Tamar spoke of the dark wolf, calling him a royal physician. The Greek chuckled softly at the charming little title, such a frivolous thing for a timid creature like Crowfeather. Arsenio wondered for only a moment what the dark wolf and the lady queen could be learning from one another.

Ah, the man nodded his head, understanding and unoffended at the autumn maid’s words. Arsenio did not even consider himself a true member of their pack.

Tamar, you are familiar with the ways of these wolves. How is this?

The misthofóros had paid attention too, but he did not wish to show what he knew. He would prefer for the maidservant to think him a fool, a brute, rather than a spy.

tamar's tan eyes shot to his face. it was finely made and in an assured way, far from the way her own features lay. "because i am a good servant." it was the only proper answer to the thing that arsenio had asked.

who was he to command her? her gaze demanded as much. she pulled it from him deliberately and looked out across the crimson lengths of territory. entrancing him. "and i am not one of their pleasure objects," tamar pointed out. "go to jawahir and see if that one will entertain a guard."

was there caliber in being assigned to the queen? tamar did not know and did not hope to know.

Arsenio laughed, a rowdy noise that did not belong there.

Tamar had said that she was a good servant, but the Greek did not like this answer at all. He wanted her to divulge more to him, to give him information he had not yet gathered on his own. She was a clever little thing, in her own ways. The misthofóros felt as though Tamar had great potential. The sharpness of her eyes did not evade him.

Tamar, you are entertainment enough for six men, Arsenio informed her with another grin. He had no intention of going to the wolf Jawahir. When the Greek spoke to that one, it would not be with the same tone that he used to address the maid. Jawahir seemed to be an important figure in Akashingo, and Arsenio could not afford to reveal too much of himself.

Who were you before this place? She would likely not answer, but he would ask anyway.

her cheeks burned when he said it. she wondered if arsenio ever tired of the sound of his own voice saying foolish things. the guard had followed her, insulted her, demanded her attention, and now stolen the moments of respite she might have had with her mother.

his question tightened the set of her mouth. "i was a daughter."

the more that he pried, the less he would find. "why are you here?" in this place. beside her now. it did not matter. tamar only wanted an answer.

A crack revealed something, no matter how small. Tamar had been a daughter, yes, but that she had mentioned it and only it showed that being as much meant a great deal to her. Arsenio blinked but did not say anything to this statement. When he was no more than a stretch of auburn limbs, his father had tossed him from the stony peak of a mountain near a faraway sea. He did not know the love of his parents, but that did not mean that he didn’t wish for it.

When she asked him why he was there, the Greek man looked to her and studied her face. His expression was unreadable, but his mind churned like the ocean water.

I like your Φωτιά, the misthofóros said to her, his words plain. Your fire.

Tamar had spirit, that was for sure. She did not belong in a place like Akashingo. Arsenio imagined that she would make a good fighter, if it mattered.

Why are you here?

For the first time, Arsenio’s words did not mock her.

arsenio enjoyed her fire.

his words did not tug at the girl, not this time. but she had no proper word to give him after that. "i am here because i want to be here." 

tamar's face closed, but not before a last lick of pale brown to the glacial blues of the guard. why did he ask her so many things? why was she the focus of his inquiries?

the maidservant looked once more at the moon. "good night." she was gone after that, flitting back below the mesa where the winding stone paths would carry her to the queen.

Mobile is unkind.

Want – Arsenio frowned at her words but did not argue against them.

The autumn maid did not wish to be near him, it seemed. She had grown tired of the questions, surely. The misthofóros watched her from the edge of his gaze. Tamar’s eyes searched the moon, her face illuminated by the touch of its pale light. The Greek wondered what thoughts occupied her mind in that very moment, that faraway look on her lovely face.

Tamar bid him goodnight and turned to leave him.

Kalinychta, Támar, Arsenio’s graveled voice called quietly back to her.

The mercenary remained there, eyes on the moon, for a short while longer before he turned and ventured back to his post outside of the queen’s quarters.