Lion Head Mesa shaduf [m]

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apparently @Charles had returned some weeks ago to akashingo. it was not that he had been there before; it was that he had come back to ramesses. pharaoh, pleased by this, had made himself rather unavailable.
it was not a difficult choice to make.
but that evening, as he found himself replenished by the desirous efforts of the fellahin, after they had gone, pharaoh lay beside the eating mats and toyed with the first berries of the year, fermented into a new wine.
it was after midnight.
"bring more," he told sihaya, guarding his door. 
"and bring the guest called charles here."
ramesses settled himself to wait.

It took really long before Ramesses sent for him. Charles had made himself comfortable, meanwhile; he was being fed, he was being bathed, and his den was soft and warm, which was a real treat to his thin-furred body at the end of winter. He was beginning to think that maybe this life was not so bad, and while perhaps it should've made him nervous that Ramesses did not call for him in such a long time, he did not mind it. The coywolf came here because of Ramesses' words lingering in the back of his mind, after all, but he had found a treasure even greater when he came here in pursuit of something ungraspable. Tangible things, like food, comfort and sleep. Things he hadn't had in a long time; not since he had left the Saints (and even there, it'd never been as comfortable as here).

When finally someone came to him and asked him to come with, Charles immediately felt nervous. He remembered all too vividly how he had sort of agreed to meet with the Pharaoh, and now he was being asked to make good on that promise.

The halls were dark as he made his way, following the wolf that brought him there nervously. As he was brought to the room where Ramesses was, a shiver ran down his spine. This was it. He wasn't ready; hell, he didn't even know what he was supposed to be ready for.

for a moment when the tread came to his threshold, ramesses did not react.
and then he lifted his elegantly wrought head with a long feline blink of self-satiation. "charles. welcome." he lifted a paw and motioned the vagrant closer.
or maybe he was not so shrinking as before. ramesses could see even from where he reclined how the effects of good food and pampered rest had shaped the man who had once refused to be his.
his eyes danced over every detail of charles, alighting with an open flicker of desire on the long ears. how delicate to the touch they must be!
"will you drink with me?"
he rolled berries toward the coywolf and then fell silent, observant.

Seeing the man again took Charles' breath away. He felt fear and trepidation lash at him at the sheer sight of Ramesses. The man himself looked incredibly careless. Another might be insulted, but Charles was used to this kind of treatment. He actually preferred to be looked at in this way. It was what he was used to. His mother never looked at him, and he pestered her all the time to make her see that he was worth her attention. Whenever others looked at him like he was worth something — Leta, the Firefly Glen friends he'd made — it brought a pressure that he couldn't really handle. It was alright to be seen as a nobody. It felt safe, like a comfortable blanket draped over him.

The coywolf just nodded and dipped his head respectfully in response to the welcome; he was not sure what a proper greeting would be. His tail hung low behind his legs, pressed against his hocks in a subconscious display of nervousness and submissive. Charles licked his lips, another show of the very same. His eyes were cold and void of emotions, but the rest of his body told the truth about how he felt.

The expression on Ramesses' face did not help. A visible shiver ran down Charles' spine as he practically felt the eyes of the Pharaoh onto him. When he had met the man in the Saints, he'd been just another nobody, like Charles himself. Now he was a king, and it showed in everything about him.

Why he was still interested in someone as worthless as Charles was beyond him.

The Pharaoh asked him to drink, and Charles nodded awkwardly. Drink? Water? Then berries were rolled towards him. Charles' voice was hoarse as he scraped his throat and then asked, Ah... Drink? These..? He hated how dumb he sounded, but he knew nothing about the customs of this place. He had not settled down yet, instead standing around awkwardly, almost as if he was waiting for some sort of permission.

"sit."
ramesses' voice was a soft knelling in the semi-dark. he indicated the pelts across from him. 
"like this." a berry lifted with tongue, crushed against flat teeth; the juice trickled down the inside of his throat. "they have been fermented in a storeroom."
tone wandering, conversational. 
his grin, widening. charles remained scuffed and scarred. his eyes were hardened amber in the half-light. he was at once both the soft and retiring thing who the divine one had first met and half-tarnished in his own right.
ramesses felt the old possessiveness rising to thrum in his blood along the berries. to take charge would be to eliminate and conquer his own time as servant; never, never had he been that. but charles was the binding tie between the life he had led and the life he had wanted. laughable to think that one day he had meant to humble himself.
"you have found akashingo at a time of transformation."
another berry, slowly chewed.
"what are your wants now, charles?"

The command to sit came and Charles almost sat down exactly where he was. He just about managed to restrain himself and moved to sit across from Ramesses, where indicated, though still looking rather out of place amidst the soft furs.

Charles still didn't really understand the concept of drinking berries. Ramesses explained it, but Charles just stared at him, blinking. Fermented? What did that even mean? The coywolf nodded despite having no clue, though he clearly looked a little dumbfounded. Then he took one of the berries in his mouth and crushed it. The taste was honestly pretty bad, and Charles wasn't looking forward to having a whole bunch of these just because Ramesses wanted it so. But then, he had gotten food and a place to stay, so the least he could do in return was eat his weird-ass berries.

The coywolf awkwardly took another berry in his mouth, while Ramesses said that Akashingo was at a time of 'transformation'. What that mean? Charles asked Ramesses. Wasn't transformation change? Then how was it changing? And why did that even matter if Charles himself saw it for the first time anyway?

He took another berry in his mouth, but before he could chew on it Ramesses' question caught him off-guard and the berry rolled down his throat, causing Charles to burst into coughing. After a series of coughs the berry came up again at last, and Charles quickly crushed it between his teeth. Then he realised he still hadn't answered the question. My... wants? What were his wants? A question that Charles had never properly discovered the answers to, and honestly, he had no clue.

ramesses indulged his eyes with charles as the coywolf did his bidding. his smile only slanted upwards sharply when the other began to cough. and now the fermentation would burn the back of his throat, hopefully bringing about the effect already felt by the divine man.
"when we last met you were alone with no people." ramesses spoke gently, crossing his forelegs. "and before that time, you were the plaything of nyra." harsher then, but charles had known his disdain in the strath and he would know it now.
his lazuli eyes glinted with many things. "but now you are here, and i have the power to grant many things. you need only name them, charles." a lazy, catlike flick of his pale plume.
he had known that the ragged man would return; not so ragged now, with filled-fur and a glossy sheen to his pelt. but the shyness and scarring remained. 
he thought what it might be to have the other, to possess him. to mold him and to shape him. ramesses hated the way that charles crept about like a peon. he was meant for more than this.
a thought began to fill his mind.
but for now he was silent, satisfied as a spoilt and well-bred cat as he waited for the other to respond.

Charles in quick succession took another few berries while Ramesses spoke, really just trying to find some sort of escape. These berries were off, he could tell; they were burning in the back of his throat and it wasn't a pleasant sensation. Charles listened to every word — he was alone, before then he was Nyra's.. plaything (which honestly, would've been better for Charles than the truth; that she did not give a shit about him).

Immediately the coywolf felt suspicious when Ramesses said that he could grant Charles a great many things. Nobody had ever given Charles anything for free. Being in the Glen had come at the price of being spat on by Leta's beautiful boyfriend. Living with the Saints had come at a price of its own, apart from the constant fear that he had lived in.

Living in Akashingo would not be free.

And what is it cost? Charles began to ask, but just as he choked out the last word he realised just how dazed he was beginning to feel. He looked around, confused, shocked, and then his eyes shot back to Ramesses as he realised — You poison me! How long would it be before he died? Or worse, what if he did not die but merely would become more and more numb, like he was already becoming now? What if his head would swim and his body would go numb so much that Ramesses could do whatever he pleased with him?

Mature Content Warning

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: heavy suggestion

the royal man laughed softly. "not poison. what benefit is your presence beneath my roof if you are dead, charles?" he stretched luxuriantly against the glossy furs. "it is only wine, to whet you. to soften you. too long have you been tense. rest."
the lazuli eyes grew cunning. "i want you in my bed. i have wanted that since i met you in the strath." no room now for sidestepped words and a lazy dance; ramesses grew hot with desire. "but you did not come to me. force makes a poor bedfellow." whatever was thought of pharaoh it could not be said he fell to violence for his satiation.
he studied the sharp, handsome features of the coywolf. "i intend to use you more gently than you have been used before," and his voice was the sweetened liquor of a courting lover, filled with an allusion he did not clarify.
"there is a lovely girl here, a princess from a neighboring ally. i meant to make a match for her here, but alas; the man who loved men fled his place and returned to his lover."
ramesses smiled slowly. "but since you have no such predilections, charles, you will marry her. it is not for love, it is for convenience, and you may treat it this way." he leant forward, a pale adder atop riches.
"in return i will give you power in akashingo. you may shape this to your own will — prince."
the bait was set and the hunter reclined to wait.

Not poison, said Ramesses, but then why was Charles' head so heavy? To soften him. To.. relax him. But to what purpose? Charles could feel a strange mix of fear and excitement in his gut. It further made his mouth go dry when Ramesses said outright that he wanted Charles, but that he would not force him to.

The coywolf opened his mouth, but he bit back the words. What if I want you to? The next words were confusing to Charles. What did they mean? Use him more... Gently? He blinked in clear confusion as the berries-- wine, as Ramesses had called them -- got to his head further and further.

More... Gently? His mind called for the abuse he was not only accustomed to but felt he deserved, but he did not dare speak the words. Ramesses continued on to say there was a girl that was to marry someone. But the someone was -- did he hear that right? A man who loved men? Charles felt a jolt of jealousy that he had left to join his lover, while Charles had only battled his love for men his entire life!

He did not long for this woman. He longed for a more masculine touch. Ironic, considering what he was told of the previous Prince. But.. a prince. He? It didn't feel right, but he could not deny his pull to the luxury he'd been provided here.

A... Prince? Me? he asked, incredulous. He knew it was a trick. It had to be. What... Why -- do you see in me? I do not get it. But he was not stupid enough to turn down such a generous offer; he knew he was on the cusp of accepting, even though he was not so sure precisely what he was accepting yet.

"a means to an end." the words were cruel. ramesses spoke them in a velveteen voice. "i will not lie to you, charles. i want to expand the borders of my kingdom. but i have akashingo to rule. it would take the efforts of another royal to claim and perhaps populate a new land."
he tilted his head to one side, sighing a little as the berries burned in his gut with a delicious fire. the dark blue of his eyes was desirous and wanton once more. 
"i reward those who bring me the things i cannot give myself, charles," ramesses purled in a throaty tone. his white teeth glinted in a salacious grin. "the girl does not need to stay in the palace. she can return to her people and still be a wife in technicality."
would that appeal more to the coywolf? he waited.

A means to an end. Was that really all he was to Ramesses? Charles could feel the berries burn in his throat. He didn't want to be just that. Ramesses only wanted to expand his kingdom. He wanted Charles to go away. You want me to leave again? he asked, a bit of hurt sounding in his voice. He wanted to ask something else — what if I don't want that — but couldn't bear to say it.

I reward those who bring me things I cannot give myself, Charles. The way he spoke Charles' name sent a shiver through his spine. What kind of things? he asked, breathlessly, enthralled. He ignored what was said about the girl, for now; he did not care about the girl. She was only a means to an end; a means to the end of keeping his luxurious life. Ramesses? He was something else altogether, though what precisely the coywolf's hazed mind could not comprehend. Danger, perhaps.

ah, there it was — ramesses' ego expanded and roiled and filled the brazen air between them. he only gazed upon charles for a long and radiant moment. "do you want to be here?" pharaoh did not answer the other question. he felt the coywolf maneuvered into a place where ramesses saw fit to have him, spellbound and himself entranced by the scarred man who had once lived as a saint.
moments ticked on.
he lifted his flawless face.
"come here." 
his voice was filled with the sweet fire of the wine and his own surface-shining want.
"sit beside me and i shall tell you."
an arch of a fine brow. a gentle laugh.

Do you want to be here?

A question that was too difficult for Charles to answer. He wasn't sure what was going on with him. He just knew that he didn't like feeling.. rejected. Yes — no — I don't know... It was complicated. Ramesses terrified Charles, but something about that precisely drew him towards the man. Maybe because he knew that he did not deserve a good life. The danger appealed to him because he knew it would bring him to the pain that he deserved to have; the pain that made him feel safe, like back home with his mother.

I want the food and the safe, he brought out. Being a prince sounded good, but Charles had zero confidence that he would manage to rule his own pack in any way. If you want me to marry with a woman for to get that, I can do that.

Come here. The coywolf knew he should not indulge Ramesses when he was beckoned, but he was like a fly drawn to honey. Breathlessly he got up and stumbled towards Ramesses; it was clear from the way that he waddled that perhaps he had eaten his berries too quickly. Charles sat down beside Ramesses, their hairs barely touching; the closest he dared to get.

submission. acquiescence. ramesses was pleased.
charles settled close. their mutual bodywarmth reached out upon the tips of those hairs and became one, a connection whether or not it was wanted. the man smelled of the berries and of unsurety.  
pharaoh allowed the silence to build. charles must have been living quite horrendously indeed if food was his motivator.
he turned his attention completely upon charles, even shifting upon his other hip to recline against the mats. his stare flicked along the other's chest, his mouth, the profile of his fineboned face.
"now. you will take the rooms formerly occupied by the waylaid boy. he did not appreciate them. i know that you will."
the royal smile was easy. lazy. poisonous. 
"you will wake. you will sleep. you will eat." pharaoh dared to press closer. "you will be bathed. indeed you may have the dust washed from your feet whenever you wish." 
this close he could feel any tension in charles that showed itself now; he expected it.
"already these things are done for you. now i ask you to look beyond. to inquire and to develop what is your deepest desire. i wish to see it ... fulfilled."
daring; daring! ramesses licked the base of the coywolf's nearest ear, nothing more than a hummingbird touches the outside of a flower.

Charles nodded numbly as he was offered the rooms that were formerly taken by the man who was supposed to marry this woman. It was all very confusing, and honestly, a bit too good to be true. But Charles had learned better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was not going to question any of this. He was done with being a scavenger.

The promise of all of this luxury made the coywolf feel both relaxed — he'd finally made it in life! — as well as tense — what would be the price of all of this? It could not simply be to be married to this woman, could it? What genes did he have that were appealing to Ramesses at all, anyway? ... And did he, even, or was it all just some elaborate scheme?

The closeness made him tense as well. It always had, from the moment that Ramesses had first laid eyes on him. Charles had wanted after many men. It had never been Ramesses. None of them had ever wanted for him in the same way, as far as Charles knew, anyway. To want after men in that way, it made him a deviant, and he should not give in to that. Charles knew that much. Apart from that, he didn't know much in this moment, except confusion.

Ramesses offered him yet more. The luxury was all part of the deal, and that wasn't what he asked for. Charles swallowed thickly, finding himself wanting for more berries already. He wanted more of the feeling that made his head swim; perhaps so he could have something else to blame than himself. Or perhaps because he just liked the feeling of not being here, sharp, tense all the time. To just be numb for a while. More. More berries. That's what he wanted. Perhaps so he could suppress or access his true deeper wants.

I want more... The lick on his ear made Charles flinch away. What are you doing?! he brought out in high-pitched, insulted question, looking wide-eyed at Ramesses but not taking distance quite yet (perhaps out of fear, perhaps out of intrigue). He glanced around the room, as if looking for prying eyes. Surely there were some servants, ready to do their leader's bidding. What if they saw it? What if others found out?!

"as do i." ramesses wondered for a sharp moment if charles preferred to be overpowered, wished to have an interest prove themselves as a physical being. but the languid arms of pharaoh did not think they were sorted for such, and so he put the thought aside.
charles trembled with indignation but he had not torn his body aside, and so the divine mouthpiece of god did not relent in his teasing pursuit. he drew back somewhat however, indicating that he would not seek to hold the newly made prince too closely against himself.
pharaoh instead kissed the outside of charles' shoulder, soft presses that did not linger long enough to be rejected.
"i am showing you the other side of the wealth i have mentioned." his breath was sweet with berries and he knew that his companion's must be the same —
"you do not yet know what goes on in these rooms. there is no judgement here, charles," ramesses breathed, urging the man to look at him, to glance into the swallowing churn of his darksea eyes.

Charles remained tense, but he did not move. In all honesty, Charles wasn't too sure that he would be able to move even if he tried; he felt completely rooted to the ground and his reactions were slow, anyway. A part of him told him to run, screamed inside his head to get out of here, but another part of him told him that he deserved this (whether for good or bad). The coywolf was not used to such gentle touches, and even the touch to his shoulder made him tense up and nervously stare at Ramesses, as if expecting him to lash out.

He had not been beaten, so why did he deserve to be touched this softly? His brain did not understand, causing Charles to feel uneasy.

The other side of the wealth. What does that mean? he drawled, his voice weird from the berries. There is no judgement here, Charles, he said, but it wasn't true. This is not right, Charles said, his words soft and broken up as he tried to contain all of the self-hatred that he felt inside. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural.

omg do not try to match length lol

"who decides what is right? certainly not you or i, charles." ramesses felt bolder the longer his caresses went on and the coywolf did not flee. he saw fear there, in the golden eyes and the tooth-notched body of the newly made prince. 
"there was once a pharaoh named neferkare." ramesses pulled away somewhat, withholding his touch for a moment. "he held many feasts in his throne room. in fact he was known for providing such diversions. one night," pharaoh went on, lazuli eyes gleaming, "a disguised stranger comes to the throne room. he wishes to cast a lament about his village. but the pharaoh is distracted. and he does not want to hear. 'sing louder,' he says to his entertainers. and in the crowd, he is lost from where this stranger might see him."
he paused and took another set of berries.
"this goes on for several nights. the stranger goes to his close friend, a high official named tjeti. 'tonight i am returning to speak with the pharaoh. when he goes into the throng, follow him. i must make him hear my voice. but i must know what he is doing.'"
a breath.
"the stranger comes back. again he is waved away by pharaoh. again the singing grows louder. again the divine one disappears. but this time he is walked after by tjeti. and the high official sees that pharaoh goes to the house of his most loyal general, sasenet. and tjeti sees that pharaoh is embraced eagerly and embraces eagerly the one called sasenet, and that they retire to the general's house, where he is said to serve and be served in any way that the pharaoh desired."
ramesses chuckled. "sasenet was killed in battle. neferkare was distraught. he ordered a great tomb built, and when his own time came, the pharaoh and the general were laid to rest as one, their noses touching in a great kiss which would proclaim to Osiris and to Anubis the devotion they bore one another."
the god of akashingo looked toward the coywolf. "the gods did not damn them. and you do not know more than they."
he put his head to one side. "trust in them. kiss me in return, charles." it was a challenge.

Charles listened breathlessly to the story. He was sure what the outcome would be already — the bottom line, at least; one way or another — but still he could not help but listen fervently. At the end of the story, Osiris was mentioned, which threw Charles off. The Pharaoh and the General... They were both men? And what did Osiris have to do with it? Was he a god? Was he approving of this love thing between two men? Charles had never been more confused — and he'd been confused a lot in his life — and he blinked rapidly as he tried to process it all.

Ramesses dared him to kiss him, but Charles wasn't sure what that even was. Kiss? Damn his lack of word knowledge. He was too ashamed to ask about it, though, so he didn't. Charles swallowed thickly and said, Will you tell about Osiris? He wasn't sure why he asked — he wanted to forget about Osiris! — but something compelled him. It was a good distraction from the kiss question, too. Charles could feel his cheeks heat up beneath his fur as he thought about it. How was he going to fulfil Ramesses' request without looking dumb by having to ask? He did not want to be disobedient (though some part of him did), but the threshold to ask for clarification was too high.

charles was reverent. he spoke the name of the Undead One and pharaoh felt more than a thrill rush him now. this was a promise. this was a foretelling. this rush was awe. "Osiris is the King of The Dead. once He lived." ramesses kept close, for he desired what he had commanded.
and yet he did not press for it again, not in this moment.
"Set, the god of Chaos, hated Osiris, for the king represented the right of rule and the element of ma'at, which is our tenets." he smoothed his muzzle along one of the noble's ears. "truth. balance. order. harmony. law. morality. and justice."
"Set took the form of a long beast with great teeth, and attacked Osiris. He tore the pharaoh into forty-two pieces, and scattered them through the land."
the gods had many stories, and a number large among them were violent.
"his queen, Iset, searched far and wide for all these pieces. she was aided by many others, the gods Anubis and Thoth among them. Thoth brings healing, while Anubis knows the proper process for burial. Osiris became the first to be wrapped and preserved, and so he remains in the underworld to this day as the God of Death, He Who Was Renewed."
pharaoh smiled. "once Osiris was made whole, Iset conceived with him their son Horus, who would grow to war with Set for a long time."
he held poised, wondering what charles would ask next.

The king of the dead. Once he lived. It was hard to believe this might be his Osiris. It couldn't be... could it? Many names were mentioned that meant little to Charles; Set, and all of these values that meant 'ma'at'. It was all confusing to Charles. He didn't think Osiris had been a very just man, but whatever.

Set... Was that the bear? A long beast with great teeth... It seemed to fit almost too perfectly. How did Ramesses know of this story? And how had Osiris become a king after? His queen was named Iset (Charles had to hold himself back not to correct Ramesses — her name was Leta!), and some other gods were mentioned. Wait... So Osiris was back alive? back in one piece? Charles looked very confused as the story unfolded, and at the end of it, after a long silence, he said, ... I think I knowed Osiris, when he lived. Before he died and was make alive again. He looked at Ramesses to see if the man thought it a ridiculous notion, while the coywolf felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment for such a claim. Who could claim to know the Gods?

"gods take mortal form to walk among us," he assured. he kissed the roundness of charles' shoulder and then released him again. "tell me of this meeting." as he waited for the prince to speak, he did not keep his desirous gaze from tracing the finer details of the other.
he would not hide himself. but nor would he press.
charles knew he was wanted. how long would the prince elude and deny and underplay the importance of being so desired by a man of divinity?
he fell silent, waiting to listen with invitation in his gaze.

Gods... Had Osiris truly been a god? It was hard to imagine; he'd been such a conceited asshole. But perhaps that's what gods were really like? If you were immortal and all-powerful, wouldn't you be conceited? Charles hesitated, but he was brought out of his thoughts by Ramesses' sudden touch; a kiss placed on his shoulder before distance was put between them again. Something that made Charles feel so desirable and at the same time like a plaything.

Osiris. The meeting. He did not wish to share, but he knew he had no choice.

He was... Alpha of a pack. He was -- Charles swallowed thickly as he tried to put it into words. There was a thing about him. I don't know how to say. Desirable. But he could not possibly admit to that. He was son of a queen on the big mountain, the Moon-spear, and acted like a son of a queen. Like a god, I guess. He was arrogant and strong. He -- Charles couldn't say. Couldn't talk about seeing Osiris getting ripped apart by the bear. A shiver ran down his spine. He looked to Ramesses to see his response to this story. What did he think?

osiris, the son of a mountain queen. ramesses heard something, or perhaps he projected it; he heard a note of was it longing? maybe only memory. he was at once jealous. how could he compete with a memory? be still, he told himself. you are a god. he is a man.
pharaoh smiled. "Osiris had a beautiful face while he lived. perhaps he took an appearance most lovely to your eyes." a press. a tease. he flicked his eyes to charles' mouth and then slowly back to the other man's gaze.
"what did he say to you?"