Fire Queen Ch. 02

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What has begun must continue, even as disaster falls around.
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Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 04/06/2017
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Tsania
Tsania
68 Followers

A/N: First of all, thank you so much for the sheer amount of positive reaction to the first part in this story. I woke with it in my head and just wrote it and posted it in a day without really reading or editing anything. So it wasn't my normal standard of edited.

I wasn't expecting there to be a sequel, it was written as deliberately open ended so I could come back if I desired. What I didn't expect was the very many messages encouraging me to continue, so this is dedicated to those who begged for 'more'.

Secondly and finally, a disclaimer: because this was a dream, almost everything in it is fictionalised. The names are real, but the people I've attributed them to are not. The festival is a thing, but the ceremony involved is my own. But as I'm writing about people who lived 5000 years ago, who knows? Maybe these aren't stories, but memories passed from another time... Haha.

Whatever you think, don't over analyse, just sit back and enjoy the story for what it is... A story.

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My favourite part of the past few weeks had always been waking to him.

Usually I was treated to the sight of him rising from our bed in all his glory, his shoulders tensing as he pulled himself up, and then his lean golden back, his butt which I normally grabbed at as it still held the marks from my nails the night before, and then as he turned I was able to see his toned chest, stomach and leading down to that part of him which made my insides curl deliciously to see.

His slaves would be there to dress him in the mornings. They'd wrap his linen shendyt around his waist, making sure to pleat it in the proper and fashionable places, and belted it with gold, jade, ornamental woods, and malachite.

The chest piece he wore was slung around his shoulders, in the centre over his heart was a scarab beetle in turquoise and peridot, and wings of gold fan outward across his chest, reaching up to his shoulders.

They plaited his natural hair tightly against his head. I was always sad to see those dark brown waves of strong hair be tamed and tucked away. A formal black-hair wig was then fixed to his head. The sharp black fringe cut severely across his brow, accentuating his already hard, regal features.

Other ornaments such as the uraeus which denoted his royal blood, were placed in the hair of the wig, to match the jewels in his belt.

This was the last step the slaves were permitted to take part in, as his make-up was only to be touched by royal hands.

The gold dust he used was real gold, I learned, ground down into a fine powder. He used a small brush to lightly dust it on his skin, his stomach, shoulders and face. Then he took a stick of kohl and drew those straight black lines on his eyes and brows.

The final result was fearsome. I held the covers to me as he looked back to me for approval. I know it didn't make any difference if I gave it or not, but I liked the gesture that he cared.

Some mornings I woke in his arms, wrapped in a robe against the chill, as he carried me down to the warm waters deep beneath the palace.

He would slowly wake me there, with his hands on my skin, brushing, stroking me awake in mind and in body. My consciousness would return me to the world after he'd brought me to breaking at least twice.

Some mornings, too early for the dressing slaves, too early even for the birds, he would wake me when already inside me. His body would raise above mine, lit by the moon streaming in through the windows. He would sink himself slowly, slowly into me. His eyes would search mine out, and he'd lean down on his arms to kiss me, stilling himself inside to concentrate on running his tongue against mine until I moaned in frustration. Then he would begin.

I always slept more on those mornings, after he'd sought completion too.

What I experienced with him was beautiful. It was everything I could ever want from a man. My grandfather had once told me that my fire would only allow me to love in one of two ways. Either as an incendiary explosion of heat and passion that would engulf and destroy whomever was caught in it, or as a slow burn that would seem unlikely to succeed, but would heat my heart and hearth for decades, fulfilling my every need.

I didn't know what I hoped this would be.

Even on the days where I was happiest, where I could have everything I could ever want and Rahotep was sweet and gentle and kind with me, I still was reminded by his existence of all that had been stolen from me.

As far as a slave was concerned, I had far more than I could ever hope for. A powerful owner who was loyal to me, kind and generous. If this had been the life I'd been born to then I would have been overjoyed.

But instead I was the only daughter of my mother, and my birthright was to be Queen of my tribe, ruling over all the subjects and lands that my nomadic peoples herded thousands of sheep over every year.

The night before my coronation, an attack was brought upon the gathered tribes which decimated us, and lead to the capture and enslavement of many of my family and friends.

I still didn't know the truth, or the extent of the attack. I had no idea if any of my family lived and if they did, where they were.

I had already found a few of my closest allies serving in this very palace. Ankhet, the girl who had once served me faithfully as a handmaiden, worked in the cruel kitchens, waiting on men and women who she would rather stab. Rahotep, once he'd found out her identity, had bidden that she would be brought to be my companion, as I wasn't permitted to leave his chambers except for very short periods of time.

Through Ankhet, I found out that at least five others from my tribe had been brought here, though the only other one I was able to see was a young boy who was the son of my father's most trusted manservant. He now worked in the gardens Rahotep and I walked in often. He was taller than I last saw him.

Rahotep barely knew any of my past, though he had asked several times. I didn't want to inform him of too much, because even though we now were getting close, I still was aware that I was a slave and he was my owner. It was uncomfortable.

When Rahotep was gone every day, Ankhet and I spoke in our language, in hushed tones just in case there were ears which could understand without us knowing.

Even though it hurt to think of leaving Rahotep, we plotted escape.

I knew if we were unsuccessful on our first attempt, Rahotep's trust in me would be irrevocably damaged, and my position within the palace would be forever changed and suspect. We could not fail.

So we were patient, but we always looked for opportunity.

The most important part of our plans had actually been suggested by Rahotep himself; no one knew that I spoke the common language, let alone others which floated around the palace.

I fed important pieces of information to Rahotep from advisors and ambassadors who met with him and spoke freely between themselves about their true motives. Each time Rahotep was able to skilfully outmanoeuvre them without their being able to guess how he knew. No one saw the slaves and servants around them, no one even thought that they were anything more than the dumb, ignorant chattel, there purely for convenience.

Other information I kept to myself. We discovered a number of useful -- and not so useful -- secret passages leading from the Prince's chambers. Obviously built at different times for various reasons, some had obviously been forgotten, or become redundant, or been rendered useless by the constant reconstruction of the palace.

Still, it was fun exploring, and no one knew we'd even left the chambers.

It was coming up to the Opet festival, where we'd be treated to a month of feasting, dancing and wine. The sun was high in the sky, as it was getting on to be the dry season.

More and more people poured into the city from all over the world it seemed. The palace was soon filled to bursting with every kind of emissary and courtier. Ankhet and I had to be more and more careful that we weren't understood.

Just before the festival began, the Pharaoh, Rahotep's father, celebrated his name day. Due to the closeness of the festival, he didn't celebrate it publicly, but instead he had a very small private gathering with his sons, and some lesser royals.

There were about forty of us seated around the table in the Pharaoh's private dining room. I had been invited specifically by the Pharaoh himself, as he had heard about me from Rahotep, yet hadn't met me bar that first mortifying introduction at Rahotep's name day celebrations.

I wore the red wig that Djet had gifted me, as well as a dress which was a dark green linen. It was pleated from a design delicately embroidered in an ankh hanging between my shoulder blades, the symbol for life, and stretched over my shoulders into a shallow vee between my breasts. The rest of the dress was loose and flowing down my figure.

Rahotep had helped me lightly kohl my eyes for the occasion, and he had worn his formal evening robes as well as his finest shendyt and jewels.

As we sat, Rahotep to the right hand of the Pharaoh, I saw the old man's eyes sweep over me with interest. I knew the evening would be quite dull as I still was maintaining the ruse of being unable to understand any of the conversation going on around me, but as the courses of the meal progressed I could feel eyes on me more and more. I looked up, straight into the eyes of Djet, Rahotep's brother. I hated him.

"It's such a shame you keep this viper like a trained pet even in the presence of our father." I carefully made sure my features didn't react to his words, and forced my gaze down to the food on my plate.

"Must I remind you, my son, that you gave this woman you call viper as a gift to your brother? It doesn't bode well that you would insult that which you would bestow on your Prince Regent." The Pharaoh spoke slowly, but clearly.

"Forgive me, father. I did not think on the implications of my words."

"No, Djet. You rarely do." At his words, Djet flicked his eyes to his father, and in them I saw a moment of rage, though it was gone as quickly as it came. "Personally, I believe she is one of the loveliest creatures I've ever seen. The colour of her skin alone makes her a rarity in these parts. I think you were foolish to give up such a magnificent being, Djet, even if it was in reverence to your brother."

The Pharaoh was studying me closely, and when I raised my eyes to him, he smiled kindly.

"It's such a pity though, that she must be particularly slow of mind if she has not yet learned at least some of our language and still uses that barbaric tongue." The Pharaoh clicked his long nails on the table, holding my gaze.

"She has learned some, though it's not much to hold a conversation. I just didn't want to over stretch her abilities before she was ready." Rahotep squeezed my hand, bringing my attention back to him.

"I would be interested to know what she is able to say." Djet wasn't going to let this go.

Rahotep nodded to me in encouragement. We were so close to being found out. I cleared my throat and tried to put on my thickest accent.

"Hello, my name is Amenia. I like flowers and walking. My master is the Prince Regent Rahotep. He is a kind and handsome man." The table was silent as I finished, my false accent making some words garbled and barely recognisable. I could feel Rahotep beside me holding very still as we made sure the ruse was believed.

"Well done, child. I hope your lessons continue, you seem to be progressing well." The Pharaoh waved for the next course.

The conversation turned and I began breathing again. I hadn't realised my heart was racing until the attention turned from me. Only Djet kept his eyes on me after that.

As the meal ended, the entertainment for the evening began. For the men, beautiful women danced provocatively with simple peasant music. Wine flowed free as snake charmers, contortionists and fire breathers stunned small groups of people. The pharaoh lounged on a cushioned plinth, flanked by his two sons, while sat back from the group on a green cushion, Ankhet by my side. We ate sweet figs as the entertainers each came up to the plinth to showcase their talents to the royal family in turn.

All were impressive, and wowed us in turn. Ankhet and I barely paid attention as we chatted in our own language about the displays. As slaves, none of the acts really paid attention to us in favour of the Pharaoh and Princes.

"Goodness, look at that woman. She must be a hundred summers old." Ankhet nudged me to look at a woman who approached the plinth. She was dressed in thick peasant clothes of the south, and carried nothing. I wondered what she would present to the Pharaoh.

"She must be very blessed by the Gods to be so old." I picked out a tart citrus fruit from the platter we had been presented with.

As she approached, she cast her eye over the two of us, which was odd as every other performer hadn't even glanced in our direction.

"My Pharaoh, your highnesses." She bowed low to the three regal men before her. "I am a FarSeer from the West. We travel through the sands of the Great Sahara in search of truths and meanings. I have been proven capable enough to entertain your guests this eve. Though I must request that I be excused from reading your path, Great Pharaoh."

"Oh? Your powers aren't great enough to see the future of a demi-god?" Djet snorted.

"Quite, but also it is a taboo in my culture to read the future of one on their name-day. It would be a great insult and curse to you. I would gladly read the futures of your esteemed sons, however."

The Pharaoh gestured welcome to the old woman, and bade her to sit before them. She drew out a deep blue cloth from a pocket, so light it fluttered in the air. In her other hand she held something I could not see.

"Who would like to go first?" She proffered her closed fist in turn to both the men flanking their father.

"I'm interested to see what's in store for me." Rahotep held out his up-turned hand toward the old woman. She quickly placed the cloth in it.

"Drop this." Rahotep did as she told him. "And then these." Seconds later four white, misshapen stones tumbled from his hand. As they settled, the woman's sharp eyes followed their every fall.

There was silence as she studied the stones and the cloth.

"You are a peaceful man, very much like your mother in your heart, but in your soul the power of your father creeps through." She said clearly. "You have the gifts of Ra about you. But your life has been touched by such sadness recently. Did they ever capture the person who murdered your wife and child?"

She looked up into Rahotep's face, who was utterly speechless with shock. It took him a moment to recover his voice to speak.

"They weren't murdered."

"No?" The woman frowned, looking at her stones again. "But it was unexpected?"

"Yes. It was an illness. Anubis took them quickly."

"Hm. Very unexpected. As for the future I see that your heart swells anew, and with this new love will come a great prosperous time, if you are able to stay with her. If not, well. Anubis may be working through someone close, but not that you trust."

"Enough of this." Pharaoh brought the flat of his hand down on the settle he lounged on. He looked furious. "Crone, this is a day for celebration, not for doom. Peddle your twisted futures and barbed prophecies elsewhere than here. I have heard enough." He waved her away, and she rose with a bow as she swiftly collected her items.

"Excuse me sire, I have one last question."

"Proceed, but do not anger me further."

"I had heard that there was a slave brought here with hair like flame. I wondered if this was true, and if so, may I see her?" The woman spoke to the floor, not daring raise her eyes to the dais again. Pharaoh looked to his youngest son.

"Yes, but not while you are entertaining our guests. See to them first and once they are sated I will grant your request."

The old woman nodded once more, and bowed away to be replaced by six beautiful women who were able to climb and balance on each other. The rest of the parade lost my interest as I watched the woman around the room. Every now and then she looked up at me, as if she knew I was staring at her. I didn't look away from her though. I didn't want to.

----

The night was dark as the moon waned. Even at its zenith the watery light barely filtered through the lands. I stood on the balcony overlooking the extensive gardens. I looked toward the North, to where my homelands were calling to me once again.

Rahotep's strong arms came to me, circling me and pulled me close to him. I could tell from the heat radiating off of him that he had already stripped for bed, while I had only removed my wig and braids.

He lifted my hair from my neck and twisted it above my head, to better access my shoulders. His lips dropped a hundred tiny kisses across my shoulder blades and collarbones like dew drops falling from the petals of a scented flower. I tilted my head to assist his access.

"You are so lovely." He murmured against my skin. "Ra himself must have crafted you."

"Oh? Then why do you dress me in Osiris' colours if I am Ra's creature?" I closed my eyes against the flutter his lips were creating deep in my stomach. He paused a moment as he pondered my words.

"I don't quite know. Maybe you are of them both. Ra made your head and Osiris your body. Both came together to craft a gift just for me."

"Just for you, eh?" I turned in his arms. "What makes you so special?"

"Well," he smirked as he brought my front to be flush with his. I could feel all his muscles tensing and moving through the thin linen of my dress -- a dress he appeared intent on removing. "I am, after all, the Prince Regent of Egypt, next in line to be Pharaoh and King Over the Nile." He pushed the dress off my left shoulder. "He Who Commands the Rains to Fall, the Sun to Rise and Set, the Lands to Grow Lush and Green." The other shoulder was similarly disrobed, and I allowed the loose dress to flutter to my feet. "All this shall be mine." The lust in his eyes was unmistakable as he gazed upon my form. My stomach was in knots in response to the desire.

Rahotep's mouth latched on to my nipple, and the gentle pull of my lips shot brands of lightening through me.

"That is who you will be, though. Who are you now?" My head fell back, a smile playing on my lips as I rested backward on to the railing, uncaring that we stood on an overhang far above the hard stone floor below.

"Who am I now?" He pondered the question as he moved across my body, using his hands to encourage and manipulate me so I partially sat, with a leg slung over his shoulder. Looking down from this angle with him knelt before me like I was the royalty and he was the slave paying fealty, his heavy testicles swung beneath him and his long hard cock stood rigid against his stomach. His face was level with my belly button now, and he drew back for a second to answer me.

"I am yours." He rocked forward with the words, and laid his tongue on me, licking deep and hard. My breath was gone already from the power of his words, so the resulting moan from his actions came out more like a strangled cry.

As he buried his face to me, I wasn't aware of the noises I made. My body simply sang to the tune of his touch. His mouth always did this to me. I had never heard of a man doing this before, so I wondered how and where he'd learned his tricks.

When I began begging him, barely able to call him by his full name for the want of him, he stood before me, burying himself in me with a speed that made me arch to him.

Our frantic pace slowed then as we readjusted. His legs were wide, bringing our balance toward the building rather than over the ledge. I gripped his shoulders, leaving marks from my nails. We stared as we breathed each other in. His voice was low as he spoke to me, his eyes never leaving mine, the intensity burning into me.

Tsania
Tsania
68 Followers