"Of Princes And Slaves"
Part 11
by Osiris Brackhaus & Beryll

 

- Prince Nekhem (Orli) -

Holding me tight, his mouth close to my ear, Ardeth whispered those words I had never dared to hope for.

"I love you," he said, and I could have sworn my heart missed a beat as I realized he truly had said what I had heard.

How was that possible?
First he tied me up, brought me to his people as a slave, to suffer for what my people had done to him, and then he told me he love me.
Why, by all the Gods, did this have to be so complicated? Wasn't it enough that we were two men, of two different cultures?

Then, another facet of the enormity of what he just had said hit me. Ardeth loved me, a godless city-dweller. The one who captured him, made him lose his honor, made him suffer.
And yet, he loved me.
It must have cost him admirable strength to realize this, to admit to himself that he was bound to me by more than revenge and the customs his ancestors demanded.

Just as I was bound to him.

I tried to answer him, but the words stuck in my throat like a dried-up scarab's ball.

I loved him as well, didn't I?
Then why was it so hard to tell him?
He had hurt me, betrayed me, all in a matter of mere days.
And yet, he was a man of honor, and he wouldn't harm me again. He had sworn so by the honor of his father, and he would rather die than break that oath. I knew he would.

So why did I hesitate?

He had taken from me all hope I had left of ever returning to my people, ever seeing my family again – but that wasn't anything to hold my heart, was it? I belonged to him, far more than any slave would ever belong to his master. Just as he belonged to me.
My life was with him, and even if that spelled I would have to live all my life among these desert people, I would be happy as long as Ardeth would be by my side.

Still, I was choking on a reply to what he had said, afraid he might notice and feel rejected now that he confessed his heart with me for the very first time.

So I held him tight, stroking his back, nuzzling his neck, feeling my whole body tingle with desire. I loved him, but why was it so hard to say?

Images came to my worried mind, unbitten and most unwelcome. Images of our first encounter, that fateful day on the site of the battle against the very people who now sheltered me from the soldiers my brother would have sent after us by now.
How his face had been filled with pain, with shame, even through the haze of the drugs my people had forced into him.
Or that night when I had found him kneeling next to my bed, submissive, obedient. Had he felt like I had this morning? Had I been that heartless with him?
But I had been convinced he had come out of his own, free will, at least that second time.
My heart still wailed in pain as I remembered his face, his hand bleeding where he had bitten himself not to cry out loud.
Just a little of his blood had marred the impeccable white of my cotton sheets – and yet this stain seemed to weight heavier on my heart than any bloodshed of my fathers' Realm.

Why had I to remember all this, just as finally we seemed to have reached an agreement? Why couldn't I just relax and enjoy this moment I had been waiting for so long?

But even his scent, as enticing as it was, couldn't distract my mind from the images of shame it brought to me. Neither could his strong hands make my body relax, however much I longed for their touch.

What was it that made me feel unworthy of his love now that he finally acknowledged it? Why did I feel like the monster he always accused me of being? Why couldn't I be happy?

With a monumental effort, I managed to put my hands against his chest, gently but decidedly ending our embrace.

"I'm sorry, Ardeth," I whispered, feeling tears well up in my eyes again.

Good Gods, please don't let me start crying right now! I'm already far too whiny of late.

My love looked at me for a long moment, sadness and understanding, mixed with rejection and sorrow.

"You don't have to be sorry, Princeling," he said softly, gently tousling my bed-head hair. "I would never force you."

"I know. I'm just – sorry...."

"Of what?"

He was right. Of what, actually? Loving him? Surely not. Not loving him? But I did! And yet, what I felt in my heart was overwhelming sorrow, sadness, guilt.

Suddenly, I understood.

"I am sorry that I have hurt you, " I said looking straight into his mesmerizing, disbelieving black eyes. "Ever. I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

"I know," he whispered, one of his hands gently caressing my shoulder. "But it still hurt."

Nodding slowly, I could see how much my apology meant to him, for even through his sadness and insecurity, a smile was gleaming in the corner of his mouth.
Oh Lady Isis, I thought to myself, did you have him custom made to suit me? How can a man be that... gorgeous?

Trailing down a line from his mouth along his chin, his throat and collarbone with a finger of mine, I wondered if we could ever be happy together.
There were so many differences between our people, so deep ingrained in both of us. And even if I was cut off from my people, my responsibility for them hadn't diminished one bit. Even in the best of worlds we would have a hard time trying to be happy.

But we would never find out if we wouldn't try, would we?

So I smirked wryly, gently scratching my fingernails through the soft hair on his chest, saying:

"We two really had the worst of start for us, didn't we?"

Ardeth answered my grin in like, merely replying with a soft, approving snort.

He was such a beauty, sitting in front of me, the blanket covering nothing much more beside his hip and thighs. Dark and manly, he was, his curls and fierce eyes so very unlike what my people considered beautiful, and yet all I desired. With my hand gently caressing his trim stomach, still smiling, I added:

"But maybe, if I apologize very nicely, will there be a chance for us?"

And before my lover had a chance to answer, I sealed his mouth with kiss, soft and wide, shy yet asking for much more, while my hand wandered down from his belly to between his legs, softly touching his anticipating manhood.
I could feel Ardeth eyes grow wide with surprise, but just for a second, then he closed his arms around me again, returning my kiss with all the fervor I could have wished for. And in my hand, I could feel how eager his body was to see more of my kind of apology.
And that suited me just fine.

---

- Ardeth Bey (Oded) -

My little prince truly was full of surprises. One moment he was afraid of me, then he did the impossible and actually apologized. And now he was busy drowning me in his affection.

My prince? How often had I called him that and never meant it. Now he truly was my prince. Only in a very different way than both of us could have anticipated.

His warm body pressed against mine, his skin soft and smelling of sand and himself. And of me. How utterly delicious to be so close to him. He kissed me with wild passion. Not with the calculating selfish desire I had felt in him when he had used me but neither the defeated sorrow of yesterday morning. More like he needed to taste me to survive.

My whole body was tingling with heat and his nimble fingers moving on my manhood didn't do much to strengthen my self-control. But this time I wanted to make sure that we finally managed to do this right. To make it good for both of us.

With gentle force I turned him on his back, stretching out next to him. "Slow, love, slow." I whispered. "We have all morning. Let's do it right, this time..."

There was an unholy light gleaming in his eye and his smile was simply indecent, but he didn't say a word when I leaned down to cover his mouth with mine again, instead entwining one hand in my hair pulling me closer, the other sneaking down my stomach again. Obviously my princeling was feeling starved.

I let my own hand trail down his flank, caressing his skin lightly and he shivered in delight, gasping into our kiss, when I brushed against his hardening cock. Whatever he had felt earlier, he was not afraid anymore.

I wanted to explore his body, finally take the time to learn all the marvels of this most beautiful creature, but he had other ideas, taking my hand and firmly planting it back on his manhood, arching into my touch.

"Need you..." he whispered into out kiss breathlessly. "...play later, love me now!"

Quite obviously he was still in charge when we got between the sheets. But with a wry smile I realized that now, I didn't mind at all.

He stroked my cock hard, setting a mesmerizing pace that made my hand move in time with his. His gaze locked with mine, his dark eyes shining with the fire of passion, his body gleaming with a slight sheen of sweat, demandingly pushing against me, he was like a creature of legend. So beautiful it took my breath away. So free and fierce and bright I almost feared I would burn my fingers on him.

His hand left my cock briefly to go questing next to the bedroll to show up with the vial of salve that I had used on his cheek the previous evening. Smiling evilly, he opened it with his teeth and for a moment I was not entirely sure where this was going. Not sure if I was yet ready to accept him.

But he set the vial down next to us on the bedroll, again took my hands and pushed it towards the salve. Then he pulled me into another scorching kiss.

I decided not to lose any more time. I felt Nekhem gasp into our kiss when my slickened fingers touched his opening, but he did not recoil this time. Far from it. He eagerly pushed against me, welcoming me with his incredible heat.

Keeping true to my promise not to hurt him, I took my time preparing him, keeping him distracted with kisses, but soon he lay beneath me writhing in pleasure and growling with impatience. This was definitely not the cultured princeling I had shared beds with so far. He was wild, raking his fingers down my back, leaving burning trails. And I was quickly losing control of my own senses, my whole body demanding to get closer yet, to enter him.

Hoping that he was as ready as I was, I withdrew my fingers from him, instead pressing my hard manhood against his entrance. His whimpers were a scary mixture of need and pain when I slowly pushed the tip of my cock into him, but his eyes clearly demanded more, brimming with tears again.

"...you all right...?" I managed to whisper, keeping unmoving with sheer force of will. I so needed to feel his heat surround me fully.

He nodded jerkily, his lips drawn back in a ferocious snarl. His nails painfully dug into my shoulders where he held on to me but all I could really care about was his impossible tightness on my cock as I pushed deeper and deeper into him, my gaze again locked with his until I was fully inside of him and he closed his eyes with a shudder running trough his whole body, gripping my cock, almost sweeping me over the edge right then.

----

- Prince Nekhem (Orli) -

This was what I had desired, craved for such a long time.

Loving me out of his free will, with all the care and passion I had dreamed of in the darkest hours of my night. Ardeth was above me, around me, within me.
And I couldn't have wished for anything else right then.

I could see his face contort with pleasure, with the will not to give in to his body's urge to rush this. My beautiful barbarian was radiating a heat I could sense with all my body, the dark wells of his eyes shining with a fire like I had never seen before.

He was mine now, truly so, more so than any chains or shackles could have made him. And I was his, eager to give him what he desired of me, and even more so to claim what was mine now.

So I closed my legs around him, pressing him against me, pulling him even deeper into my body than before, and I could see my man clench his teeth in almost painful pleasure. Grinning fiendishly, I took delight in making him squirm, to see him shiver, to see the mighty warrior lose control in my arms, fixing him with my legs so he could hardly move.

Feeling his body so close, so alive, made my heart race, and I was mesmerized by the way Ardeth arched and shivered, the way his muscles moved underneath his dark skin, the moments when his dark curls touched my skin ever so softly.

Cupping my lover's cheeks with my hands, I marveled at the way his olive tan differed from the pale cream of mine, protected by palace and temple walls as I had lived until then.
Would our skins ever match? Would there come a day where my skin would be as dark as any one's of the desert people? Or would I ever stand apart, a foreigner among strangers?

Would I ever care?

Probably not.

Relaxing what hold I had on him with my legs, I showed him how to move, directing him to suit my pleasure until I felt like howling, like being close to bursting if he continued any longer.
He was still looking at me, at my face, my body, and this time, I could see he worshipped me at the temple I had offered him for this purpose.
A first sheen of sweat made his dark skin gleam, and I found myself sending a silent prayer to the gods. Ardeth was all I would ever need, and they had made sure I got him.
I had lost my titles, my family, my people. And yet, I was filled with gratitude.

In my lover's eyes, I could see how much he delighted in taking me, filling me, feeling me around him, welcoming him with both my body and my soul.
And I could see how hard he strained to give me what I desired, to make it last as long as I wanted.
But I wanted him. I wanted so see him jerk and shudder with the peak of his passions, wanted to feel his body grow all tense and watch him grind his teeth. I wanted to feel him, to share his moment of greatest pleasure like real lovers would.

So I slung my arms around his neck, pulling us closer together until I could whisper into his ear:

"Come now, my lover, and I will join you!"

Instead of an answer, he thrust into me, and a wave of lustful dizziness swept over me. With my hands still on his shoulders, I could feel him move, feel him take up speed, felt myself washed away by his passions.
Hard and hot he filled me, his strong body making mine move in reply, his scent filling the tent, his curls touching my face and chest.
And I could feel him approach the place I wanted him to go, could feel the muscles in his shoulders going rigid, could see the sinews in his throat - but all that was lost to the way he felt to my heart. And when I felt him growl in pleasure, I was swept away by his passion as well, falling into the dark and welcoming abyss of mindless love-making as well, losing myself completely to our bodies' motions, surrendering my consciousness to the passion that filled me.

When I came back to my senses, I realized Ardeth's strong arms holding me tightly, the heavy weight of his body still lying on top of me. My beautiful lover was still breathing heavily, and I could feel my heart pound within my chest.
Vaguely, I remembered myself screaming in pleasure only moments ago, and with a guilty smirk, I noticed the bloody scratches on his shoulders, fatally reminding me of the way I had placed my hands there before I lost track of what had happened.

With a soft grunt, my 'owner' came back to life as well, and I kissed his neck, gently whispering:

"Get off me, you oaf...," softly nudging his ribs. "You won't be able to repeat that if you squeeze me flat like this."

His reply was nothing but an amused grunt, then he shifted his weight a bit to get me more comfortable, raised himself up on his arms and looked at me.
Ardeth was smiling widely, his perfect white teeth sticking out of his slightly unshaved face, his dark hair disheveled in such a perfect way. If I hadn't been in love with him already, I would have fallen for him that moment.

"Well, you didn't seem frail at all mere moments ago, princeling." Softly, he kissed my nose, adding: "All the ancestors, you truly are beautiful..."

"I am not frail," I objected playfully, "I'm just thinking it would be far more comfortable if you'd get your bulk off me."

Ginning at him, I added: "Hold me in your arms for a while. I would really like that, my love."

----

Ardeth Bey (Oded)

"What exactly were you thinking when you marked the boy like that? If you were thinking at all, that is..."

I didn't even bother turning around, instead continuing the calming movements of brushing the horse. I knew I would have looked into the stern face of my father, trying to read from my eyes if I had gone insane while I had been away. I had known he would turn up sooner or later demanding an explanation. I probably should have expected him to use this opportunity but I had been lost in sweet memories of this morning.

How Nekhem and I had lain close to each other after making love for the first time in our tumultuous relationship. How I had savored the lack of pain in my heart and his.

He had drifted back into a light slumber, snuggled safely into my arms and I had been in a hazy state of half-sleep half-waking as well, watching him breathe, wondering if it would ever grow boring to look at him.

He was so beautiful. Exotic in all the right ways, his skin pale compared to that of my people, slender to the point of frailty, his face still boyish without lines of worry or hardship.

The legends of my people tell of the night-spirits that carry dreams into the sleep of the people. They are said to look like he does. My very own dream-spirit with a body to touch.

And touch him I did, my fingers constantly trailing over his shiny skin, caressing him everywhere I could reach without waking him with too much movement. How different he felt, now all relaxed and peaceful to the wild-cat that I had held in my arms when I had taken him. Compared to that he had been very tame and calm when he had used me.

What would it feel like to let him love me, now that I did not hate him anymore? That was what I was still moving back and force in my mind, trying to find a place where this notion would not scare me anymore, when my father interrupted my thoughts.

"Well?" he asked again, when I did not react immediately.

"I did what you taught me to do." I answered calmly. "I did the honorable thing."

That silenced him for quite a moment. Then he sighed deeply. "And I had hoped against hope it would be just a foolish boy's mistake." he muttered, more to himself then to me.

"Come now, turn around, face me and tell your father how this came to be!" he then ordered with more patience then I had anticipated. I had been quite prepared to face his anger to the point where he might kick me out into the desert again.

I turned around slowly, a bit afraid of what I might find in his eyes but it was only thorough confusion.

Feeling rather sheepish now I shrugged. "I can't say how it happened." I answered truthfully. "The spirits plant love where they will. There is no arguing their wishes. This path was laid down when I survived that battle and now I can only walk it."

My father tilted his head slightly, reminding me of a puzzled ibis suddenly. "So you do love him. Rhesa said something like that. And she always knows best. Inherited that from your mother. But what does the boy know of this? Does he love you as well? Does he know what you have gifted him with?"

"I think he loves me." I said, only now realizing that he had never actually said so himself. "But it doesn't really matter, if he does. My heart is with him so I had to give him what remains. And no, he doesn't know what the markings mean. As you have said, he IS still a boy in many ways. I don't think he is ready yet to learn of it. "

A sudden smirk appeared on my father face. "You are a cruel man, my son. From what Rhesa told me he was quite unhappy about the markings and suspected the worst." Then his expression softened. "But I can see why you would want to take this one step at a time. That for once is a wise decision."

There was something like pride in his eyes for a moment and then he punched my shoulder hard. "Though I would have preferred you to consult with me on this matter first. After all it's also a matter of horses. Will his father bring good horses into our tribe for taking him in?"

For a long moment I gapped at him open mouthed, only belatedly realizing that he was joking when a grin spread on his face.

---

- Prince Nekhem (Orli) -

After my lover had left our tent, I stayed on his bedroll for a while, feeling almost giddy with deep contentment. Through the heavy, dark fabric of the tent only small rays of the sun outside were falling like through a sieve, not enough to make the interior seem bright, yet too much to really be dark.

Rolling back into the blanket we had shared I savoured his scent still clinging to the cloth, my head still swirling with the images of our first love-making none of us had been hurt by. Inside my chest, I felt my heart glowing like a little sun, and for all I had lost and for all that implied for my future, I was happy.

The first time since I had fled from my aunt's estates, I took the time for my ritual washings, as sparse as they were due to lack of actual water, but it was the gesture that mattered. Greeting my body limb by limb, I prayed to each respective governing deity, expressing my gratitude, asking for prolonged health and beauty.

Carefully, I wrapped myself in the desert-peoples' garb, praying to Ptah to grace my hands with nimble fingers for my work at the day-tent. And last, I stood up in silence, my arms crossed above my chest, sending my prayers to my Lady Isis, acknowledging her wisdom in bringing me here, asking for the grace necessary to stand among my lover's family without shaming me or him. And thanking her from the deepest bottom of my soul.

Maybe the people outside still saw the slave in me, nothing more but some pretty spoils of war. But I knew I wasn't any longer.

He loved me as much as I loved him, as unbelievable as that might have sounded a few days ago. And for the first time, we were seeing each other as remotely equal. Maybe, I thought, I could learn to be happy among his people.

Having finished my graces, I noticed I had kept the small vial of kohl I had used yesterday to show the women how we wore it in the cities. With a smile, I opened the tent-flap, allowing the bright glare of the late morning's light into the gloom of the tent. After a bit of rummaging, I found a polished brazen mirror I could use, and sat down in the sunlight, painting my eyes with as much care as I would take when attending an official audience with my father.
The marking on my face looked still so strange, almost as if not being part of me. But it was part of what made me who I was, and therefor a part of me. I still didn't understand why Ardeth had had to mark me as his property when only hours later, he told me he loved me. But just like the marking itself, the scar it had left on my heart was healing.
Whatever had made him do this to me, it had helped him to come to terms with us, and I was grateful.

With a sad smile, I noticed how much I missed my father back in his palace in Theben.
I had never had anything like a real relationship with him, though, for he was the Pharaoh, after all. But he had always been there for me, a stern but reliable presence in my life I suddenly was left without. Just like my mother, I would never see him again. And this marking was just the irremovable reminder of this.

Though I would have to return to Theben at least once.

There was a viper being nurtured at the very bosom of Egypt, and it wore the face of my adored brother. Whatever I thought about my duty as a former Prince of the Realm, or how tired I was of all this politics - I was born as the son of a living god, and as much as my father, I knew I bore at least some responsibility for my people.

I knew I would never be able to return for good, and I was no longer sure if I even wanted to, but I could not risk this traitor gain control of the Realm. Too much harm would such a rotten soul at the heart of my country bring to its people, and it knew it, therefore I was responsible.

I would have to return to Theben, but only one very last time.

With a soft sigh, I put away the kohl and the tiny stick I had use to apply it, and turned back my attention towards the tent. For the first time, I realised actually how messy it already looked.
Laughing at my first impulse to call the slaves to get it cleaned up, I left the tent, taking care to cover my head properly, and looked for a way to roll up the tent's side parts, as it had been done with the day-tent.

Only a short while later, I had figured out how to do it, and soon, all the 'walls' were rolled up, allowing sunlight and fresh air into our tent.

Funny, I thought, how quickly things become common. 'Our' tent. What will be next? 'My' people?
With a soft snicker, I decided that whatever would come next, first it would be 'our' mess, and I started to sift through the small piles of clothes and knick-knack that had already accumulated in the small time of us being here.
Quickly, I cleaned up our tent, hanging out his bedroll into the sun to be fresh when we would need it again tonight. A lopsided grin grew in my face at the thought, and I was happy for the cloth that did not only cover most of my head but also a good portion of my face.

When I had finished my 'housework', I was about to pull down the tent's sides as a woman approached me, balancing a huge bundle of clothes on her head.

"Good morning, Nekhem!", she said, smiling widely. "I have already missed you at the day-tent."

I faintly remembered her having been among the many women I had been introduced to, and I greeted her with a wide smile in return. She looked around, surveying what I had been working on in the tent, saying:

"Well, it's a good thing Ardeth finally has someone to look after his stuff other than his sisters. And what a pretty boy you are! It's not a good thing for a warrior like him to be alone too long, you know? All his sisters will be married soon enough, and then they will have their husbands to take care of. Anyway, do you have any laundry I should wash for you?"

I could have bet she didn't breath once during her monologue, but I was more than happy to point her to the respectable pile of dirty clothes next to the tent's entrance. I might have been rather industrious with my hands for an Egyptian prince, but how to wash clothes had never been anything I had intended to learn something about.

"Well, you can do some sewing for me while I'm off to clean this stuff. I have seen what you have done yesterday, and I wish I would ever be able to do such fine and regular stitches. I'm just too clumsy for things like that." Laughing, she added: "But I can always swap work with the likes of you, can't I? My husband thinks Ardeth is a fool for keeping you, but I like you."

"Thanks....", I replied, slightly confused by her amiable onslaught of words, waving her off as she went on to the next tent seeing if she could swap some more of her work for some dirty laundry.

Well, I thought to myself, life here is definitely different that what it was in the palace in Theben. But if people stay as hospitable as they have been until now, I might get used to living here.

 

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Osiris Brackhaus & Beryll

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