Lion Head Mesa (ap) godhead
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#1
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the bed of pharaoh ramesses had been stripped and piled with fresh skins. between the layers were crushed and dried herbs taken from the red sands, sweet-smelling without pungency. ramesses twiddled the hawk's tailfeather between his teeth. ruenna had brought them a bevy of impressive gifts, most of which he would allow @Satsu and her servants to unpack, but this he would keep for himself.
it was odd, to have her here. the stone shelves had been cleared of items. these would be her own spaces. but he approached one such area and lay the feather down.
ramesses stood across from his new queen. the bed was between them. the fellahin had been forbidden these rooms, at least for the present — he hoped that eventually she might return to her own apartments and diversions.
his lazuli eyes sought her own.
he had asked satsu once and for the last time if their contract had changed. and now they stood before their marriage bed with the same boundary-line between them.
ramesses meant to keep his word. he would not ask her again.
"Sobekneferu." his voice was soft and reverent. "queen of akashingo."
pharaoh smiled lightly at his bride, gesturing to say that she should enter the bedfurs before himself. a last ritual of sorts, his respect of her continuing even when there were no eyes to see.
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#2
the last time she had been here, he had been in the mountains. tamar had been with her. the smell of the room was much the same - cleaner now, more pronounced in its herbal notes - without a trace of filth among the furs. a dearth of them lined the bed. on one side was ramesses, on the other satsu.
the shelves were barren. she did not see the feather, but in time would fill the empty spaces with her own things; their things, too, as their history together cemented.
sobekneferu, prayed the pharaoh softly.
there were no onlookers. the crowd had been entertained by the blood-sport of the mazoi; she had watched as they followed their orders without hesitation to beat the red-fur man, to banish him. a show of power she could have put an end to.
moving to the furs, her eyes on him — focused, despite the redness of her cheeks, her throat. the humming in her skin — climbing silently in among them.
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#3
ramesses watched as his newly glowing equal entered their marriage bed.
he followed suit. he nosed beneath the skins until he lay on his back beside her. pharaoh folded his paws elegantly over the rabbit-fur coverlet and stared up at where the vaulted ceiling disappeared into darkness.
this was what she had wished, was it not? a wedding night free of any illusion that ramesses might desire her. he lay like an idol of limestone beside her, cool and with a serpent's cold curiosity pursuing each moment.
"we should send ruenna something. she witnessed a good deal tonight."
but he did not laugh. ramesses turned his head against the bedclothes and reached to feather her cheek with a polite kiss.
he shut his eyes.
in his throat and in his loins he felt a surging; he applied all of himself to the courtier's control.
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#4
she thought of what tamar had told her in secret.

he climbed in among the furs after her, and for a moment satsu wondered, perhaps desired, that he would be presumptuous or overbearing, as he often was with the fellahin; but then she recanted that, and softened alongside him, trusting him.

she was no fellahin. he would not take from her and toss her aside, flavor of the week, for she was his queen. it would be her choice how this night went, not his.

he spoke of ruenna and satsu felt a blaze of jealousy that his first thought was of another woman in their bed; but was it truly their bed, as they had not shared it? it was more akashingo's bed in that case.

what would be a suitable gift? she wondered aloud, softly, her voice heavier than normal. her breath was sweet.

his eyes closed, but she could not look away.
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#5
pharaoh heard the sound of her voice and chose consciously to ignore it. the flesh of his mortal prison was far weaker. 
"she is careful and understands diplomacy. it would need to be something useful with small details to appreciate."
ramesses moved his senet piece upon their mental board-game. it seemed the figure bore ruenna's face. 
he had by now become distractingly aware of satsu alongside him, as their respective warmth mingled beneath the bedfurs in an intimacy he had not expected.
pharaoh's lean and taller frame gathered a small tension despite himself. 
ramesses was swiftly humbled beneath Amun's bemused eye to find a singular truth.
to stand before an assembly was quite different than lying alongside one's wife. it exposed the ruler at once, compromised him, for now she might feel as he felt.
ramesses felt himself slip toward annoyance.
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#6
something useful. something small.
something borrowed, something blue; chimed her mother's voice in her head, which startled her.

we could send a fellahin. tamar, or perhaps sayf, whichever you prefer. it was a bold thought. if he were to choose of the fellahin to gift, even temporarily, to an ally, would it wound him? satsu hoped not; but also, would it unsettle the lady of the caldera?

satsu was quiet then. she drew a breath and filled her lungs with ramesses. it was too much plotting; she was tired from all the festivities but also alive, enamored, a little drunk — and warm here, too, beside him.

carefully now she lay her head near his shoulder, nesting as close as she dared. he felt so strong beside her; that itself was not a shock for he was a warrior and he was hale, well cared for, with a measure of pride in himself... and yet, there was something different about this.

...ramesses, her voice was so quiet now, not wanting to disturb him where he lay. sleepy, girlish. she did not know why she spoke his name except to hear herself say it.
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#7
"redhawk caldera is a place of women. and rather noble ones. they will not know what to do with a pleasure servant." his lips curved in the dark. pharaoh's tone was conversational. "but you are right. and i am thinking of jawahir. perhaps the jewel of akashingo can serve in other ways."
satsu shifted closer beneath the furred covers. her fragrance surrounded him, not in a cloying cloud but something like a gentle mist. he reveled in it, marvelling at himself.
the galloping of his heart was wildly uncomfortable. 
satsu, close to him; he slid his head just some inches downward and felt his lips touch the edge of one ear.
he did not caress her. ramesses did not understand what ruled him now, what made his limbs anxious where he had never been before.
satsu said his name. he thought perhaps she was beginning her walk toward sleep.
pharaoh gingerly slid his sculpted arm beneath her shoulders and drew her somewhat against him.
"may nunut touch your dreams." a blessing for his queen.
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#8
she did not hear his response, if there was one. he was careful in his movements and cautious, holding her close as she drifted to sleep.

whatever wedding night he had expected as pharaoh, this was likely not the expectation.

oddly, as satsu drifted and let herself fade from the waking world on a pillow of fruit espers, she envisioned part of a recurring dream: the two of them in the wellspring, but this time, with tamar.

satsu gasps softly in her sleep and startles awake immediately, her pulse a jolt. it felt like falling at first, until she snapped back; misty-eyed and flustered.
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#9
ramesses had just steadied his pulse into an acceptable rhythm when satsu came awake, jarring him into the same inner chaos.
"shall i have the fellahin bring you something to sleep?" there was no rule that a servant should not enter the first night. it was only unspoken: that this was their realm for the next days, and they should be undisturbed.
but such a time was for exploration that would not touch their marriage.
ramesses settled near, his lazuli gaze tilting toward the queen.
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#10
sighing with some exasperation, satsu nodded.
tamar... she murmured against his throat, her breathing rapid while her pulse continued to race; she did not know if she desired tamar for this role or for the one in her mind, half-alive in her dream.
she felt too warm pressed against him, suddenly, and moved away, rising from the bedfurs to stand in the open.
disquiet; satsu was afraid of what she felt.
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#11
satsu stood framed in a thin shaft of light.
ramesses did not call for tamar.
he slipped from his side of the bed and stepped lightly to approach her.
"satsu."
his voice was gently insistent; his lazuli stare meant to find and hold her own.
"if you wish to return to your rooms, you only need say it. i will call your guard and your maid."
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#12
she didn't have to stay.
and then the fellahin would whisper, she answered.

she could not have that.
there was much to be expected of this night, much that the party-goers and the servants and the mazoi would believe to be happening; if she went back now...

i only need a moment. some air. but she could not stand firmly either, the room was hazy. she had consumed too many of the berries during the party.

and then she sank to the bed again, sitting on the edge of the furs. quiet like a mouse, rather than the queen she should have been.

i'm sorry.
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#13
the fellahin would talk either way. and they would especially gossip when the time of heat arrived at akashingo, but the queen did not swell with child thereafter. the thoughts were far too crass, for satsu alone as well as for their hushed wedding night.
she perched upon the bed's edge. ramesses approached and stroked her temple with an affectionate brush. "it is difficult to be queen." she smelled of berries; her breath was sweet with them.
"she is my sister and she is without equal," ramesses sang suddenly, lips blooming with a true smile. sister and brother, used between man and woman in his land as an honorific.

"she is the loveliest of all,"
"she is like the rising star of morning."
"she is like the start of a happy year."

ramesses was at her side now; he drew satsu against him and continued on, voice rising and falling in the curved half-notes of his remembered singing;

"lovely the look of her eyes,"
"sweet the words of her lips,"
"upright neck, shining breast, fur as purest linen."

ramesses murmured the words against the curve of one satined ear,

"her limbs surpass gold,"
"her paws are like buds of lotus,"
"round thighs, narrow waist,"

ramesses teased satsu with a knowing look;

"her legs parade her beauty."
"with graceful step she treads the ground,"
"she turns the necks of all men to see her,"
"much joy is in the heart of he who embraces her."
"he is like the first of men,"

pharaoh sang the last with lips touching her cheekbone;

"when she greets the dawn, she herself glows with the fire of Ra."
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#14
he moved in close. she felt his breath on her nape, the touch against her face; then her ears filled with his voice, something satsu had never heard before.

ramesses was not a man who sang. he did command, he could brood, and everyone had heard him play in some manner through the halls; but sing? satsu was stunned.

the words were accolades to her.

satsu listened and in doing so, relaxed. she swayed slightly, her body wanting to dance. she leaned back against him. blushing pink as the song went on.

the pharaoh looked at her knowingly; she thought, lovingly, and imagined how he might look upon his fellahin, or tamar; possession.

a kiss to her cheek, which she felt everywhere.

watching him with eyes half-lidded, tracing his lips, she felt fire in her belly as the song came to an end.
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#15
ramesses was not unaware of the effect he had wrought upon satsu.
he saw it in the sultry azurite flame that slowly heated her eyes to a gemstone glow; he saw the way her eyes were upon his mouth. this had been the purpose of the song, had it not? they sang to one another, these people of the sands. their words were poems of love and it was their inner ruling.
how did her people treat love?
ramesses had pulled away and sat poised on the bed beside her.
if she were one of his — no. 
satsu was not. she was his queen.
ramesses only watched her, entranced.
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#16
i think... she began to express,
it is time for me to sleep.
it was not what she wanted to say, not to him, not right now, but propriety won against her deeper desire. the frigidity that had so rooted itself within satsu in the time before akashingo, before the saints even, was not something she could shake off.
she felt his eyes upon her.
she wanted more than that; but at the same time, thought, what would my father think.
how impertinent that she be haunted now, now — a queen, a wife, the last of her line.
but still, just satsuki deep down.
she moved then to crawl beneath the bedfurs.
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#17
"may the Lady of Slumber guide your sleep, Sobekneferu."
pharaoh's voice was hushed.
he watched as the curved lines of her body softened beneath the pelts. he breathed out his disappointment and joined her there, to mingle in chaste slumber as the echoes of their wedding party died away.
for a while longer however, his blood might gallop inside his veins; pharaoh arrested at the apex of his truest want.
wait, said Amun.
and ramesses would heed this.