Luneshale Pass I wonder if I'm being real

Grief was a weird thing. It came and went with no warning. It had been many moons since Ramesses passed and he still found himself missing the golden God. Little things would remind him of his master and the grief would swell and grip his heart as strongly as it had the day he found out the pharaoh was gone. Even now, with all the preparation as a distraction, it wasn't always enough.

And his mistress, Qiao. He missed being at her side, working together. Time didn't make that loss any easier either. He brought her gift with him and stashed it somewhere safe; it was one of his most precious possessions. 

This evening, the fellahin busied himself checking on the berries. He had worked hard to make sure everyone could get intoxicated to their heart's content. It was tedious work, but it kept his mind busy.

@Akhtar

Akhtar was no man of great skill when it came to names, but he knew the face of the fellahin. Even he wasn’t so dull minded as to forget Sayf’s face. Though they had never interacted much.

A “whoopsie” on his part.

It seemed the man was busy with work, ever so much of it nowadays. Akhtar was quite glad he was a priest. It meant he could lie about and say the gods told him so if the need arose for it. Not that he would ever do that of course.

..more than once, that is.

He slipped silently into the room, clearing his throat with a little cough.

Would you mind ever so terribly giving me a few of those? I believe my store in my quarters ran out. Flash the award winning smile of the “I swear I’m not an alcoholic” type.

The sound startled Sayf but he was too good at hiding his reactions by now, so it wouldn't be obvious. He paused his work to bow to the priest and offer him a warm smile. 

He wanted some of the berries for his quarters, and Sayf worried over how the fellahin had allowed him to run out. Sayf had no judgement to pass on his habits, nor did he have any room to talk. 

He gathered some onto a small piece of pelt and the used it to carry the berries over to the holy one. The fellahin set them down at his feet. My lord, please let me carry these to your quarters for you. He dipped his head in another bow. He could not let the hem do such work on his own.

Oh dear, the bowing. Akhtar flushed up to his ears from the back of his neck, smile gaining a distinct twinge that spoke of flustered embarrassment.

Ah-no, dear one, that’s not necessary. You seem to be busy, I’d hate to interrupt you in the midst of all this and get you in trouble. Even so, he sheepishly stood there for a moment, rocking his weight from foot to foot.

I can carry a few berries around, I may look like a stiff wind could blow me over but I assure you darling, I am solidly built. About as rugged as a sapling, perhaps.

Now it was Sayf's turn to be embarrassed. I apologize, my lord; I did not mean to imply that you couldn't do it, just that you shouldn't have to. It was Sayf's job to make sure the Hem was cared for. As a mouthpiece for the gods, he was important and Sayf intended to treat him as such.

Do not worry, helping you would not get me in trouble. He was more likely to get in trouble for allowing the priest to do the work of a fellahin. 

He dipped his head. Of course the choice is yours. I will do as you ask if that is what you want.

His face softened.

Oh dear. It seemed the both of them weren’t too good at this, Akhtar especially. He cursed his tongue of rubber, and put on his best, most reassuring smile.

Oh, if you’re certain I’m not interrupting. He stepped back, allowing the fellahin to proceed before him before leading the way towards his quarters.

I won’t keep you for long, I promise. Saliva gathered beneath his tongue in a rush of nervous nausea for no good reason, but he swallowed it down. Really, he had nothing to be scared of. But he felt jumpier than a frog.

I am sure, he promised. Then he reached down and gathered the edges of the pelt between his teeth. He stood and followed, relieved that the hem was letting him help. He was careful to walk beside the priest while holding himself back a little to show deference. 

He promised he wouldn't keep him long, but Sayf hoped he would. He wanted to make sure the hem wanted for nothing. 

He would set the berries down once they reached the hem's quarters. I am yours for as long as you need me, my lord, the fellahin assured him. He brushed his nose briefly against the other man's shoulder. He wished to press against the hem and groom his fur, but he waited.

Akhtar felt so young all over again, barely established in Akashingo as a hem, with a pretty fellahin seducing him.

Well, Belen, wherever she might be, was long gone (and safe, he hoped in his heart), and pleasure had transformed him into a being of hedonistic snobbery. Like an ugly flower, he bloomed into his role. He reached over his shoulder to pull off the rabbit skin, shaking it free of dust and sitting it on a nearby rock. He’d send a fellahin to wash it later.

As long as I need, hm? He allowed the touch, even leaned into it, barely swallowing the keen that wanted to leave his throat. For all his wanton nature, he didn’t sleep around as much now, out here.

His response—his words and the way he leaned into the fellahin's touch—made a shiver travel down Sayf's spine. This was another way to distract himself, and of course, he was happy to serve the hem. Maybe he needed a distraction too.

If allowed, he nuzzled into the other man's shoulder and combed his teeth through his fur. Yes. And I'm here for whatever you need, he promised. He would nibble up the hem's neck at those words, his touch eager but soft. Especially if what the hem needed was the fellahin himself.

Akhtar’s body responded with a puffed chest, narrow sighthound musculature making the gesture less proud and more ridiculous.

You can stick around for as long as you feel you need to, darling. He chimed, trying to fight off every other emotion that welled in his chest. Suddenly, his stomach clenched, and he shot his gaze around the room for little Bast.

He didn’t see their black coat. Perhaps the cat was out and about.

Perhaps you would like to share a berry? He gestured to the brought goods with a wave of his paw.

Sayf could tell him he was here to serve him, that how long he stayed was not the fellahin's choice, but he didn't. He only nodded as he watched the hem respond to his touch, puffing his chest out in a way that made the fellahin smile. He loved knowing he had that effect on others. Anything that proved he had worth. 

Akhtar offered to share his berries and the fellahin bowed his head a little. That is very kind of you. He lowered his head to the fruit and picked one up with his teeth. He chewed and swallowed. Sayf couldn't help but touch the priest again, running his nose through soft fur so much different than his own.

Akhtar smiled, eyes slipping half lidded and calm in the interim between Sayf reaching out and plucking a berry to the nose buried in his fur. The words made him chuckle.

I have been known to be, on the occasion. He said with a fanfaric wave of his bannered tail.

Have you ever painted before? He spoke after a moment’s thought of it, his mind a whirl.