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The High Priest rules Raej with political acumen and charisma, but not all is well under the desert sun. As the years progress tension between Blood and Landen grow and are now nearly at a fever pitch. Odji Khaldun’s secret war against the Landen is not public knowledge but the workings of it can be seen. Blood and Landen die on both sides while Raej subtly prepares for civil war.
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Author Topic: Like salt in the mouth  (Read 193 times)

Description: Syeira

Offline Iskander Khaldun

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Like salt in the mouth
« on: Oct 12, 17, 06:29:09 AM »
Iskander touched his forehead to the cool stone floor of the Altar, and remained there. Here, beneath the palace complex in Kemet, he felt closest to the Darkness. His Queen preferred to be out under the stars she could no longer see, and his wife seemed to prefer the private altar connected to their suite. His uncle could often be found officiating in one of the open altars, his natural charisma drawing the Blood to him like bees to honey.

Not a day went by that Iskander wasn't grateful to his uncle for everything that he had done. Without Odji Khaldun, Iskander would still be among the Kurhah, outcast as a weak-blooded bastard. He wouldn't know the Darkness so intimately. Her motherly power wouldn't soak the marrow of his bones, wouldn't boil away the impurities and distractions and leave him pure and clean, if Odji had never taken an interest in his nephew. And without Odji, he never would have met Saiph al-Kaid, his Queen, or Syeira Neferet, his wife.

As ever, thinking of Syeira brought a miserable pang to his chest and a taste like salt in his mouth. Iskander lifted his forehead from the ground, pushed up on his fingertips. His brown eyes regarded the silver cup with its lovingly chased illustrations of fish and cats that sat on the stone altar. At the time of his marriage, his heart and mind had been full of Fanan Ghazal. The beautiful Black Widow bore the same romantic heart as Iskander. He had told his uncle of his feelings, and assured Odji that he would never let Fanan come between Iskander and Syeira... and yet, he had allowed that exact thing. He had lied.

Maybe if he had forced the issue on that first night, made her at least speak to him about her expectations for their marriage bed, he wouldn't be so miserable now. Since his wedding, he had been faithful; he maintained the vows he took before his uncle and his Queen and his wife. He had turned his face away from Fanan, though he had loved her. Though the action caused him pain like nothing he had ever known, he had been glad to do it, to prove to his uncle and the Darkness and his wife that he was a good man, that he understood what it was he was offered. Syeira Neferet's hand was a valuable thing to hold, and he had, perhaps naively, hoped to hold her heart as well.

No, this wasn't the time for thoughts doubting Syeira. She felt the same pull to the Darkness that he did. They spent hours praying together. She was good, and true, and it wasn't her fault if she didn't find Iskander a worthy husband. He bent his forehead to the ground again. One last prayer, and then he would go upstairs again, to bed with a woman who would never consider him a sexual or romantic partner. It was nothing like what he had dreamed of as a young man, but... But he loved Syeira, and would sooner cut out his heart or slit the throat of his own Queen than see the woman he loved in pain.

"There is a will which passes all understanding," he murmured. Iskander spoke the prayer softly every night, but this night his words were fervent despite their low volume, full of hope that the Darkness's all-encompassing will would understand him. Even if he had no hope of understanding it, the Darkness was all-knowing and all-loving, and had comforted him before. Perhaps She might do it again.

He continued: "May the Mother beneath the earth and between the stars resound within this place, within the hearts of the Court, and in the hearts of all who serve here, awakening that which lives most purely. May the consciousness of those hearts become ever more as one. May the many lives which are lived within this place become one life, and that life be in service of the Mother who made and dwells in Darkness. May the fortitude and fidelity and faith of the Court and of the Territory of Raej burn as a clear flame in the service of Mother Night."

He stayed low, for a long moment, and then rose straight backed and stood. Within the silver-chased cup there was the blood wine, and Iskander drank it down without stopping for air, wiped the mouth and the inside of it clean with a fine cloth.
“There are princes who go to war for no other reason than because it is a way of confirming their tyranny over their own subjects. It is only then that they feel they are really kings.”

Offline Syeira Neferet

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Re: Like salt in the mouth
« Reply #1 on: Oct 14, 17, 11:04:05 PM »
Syeira had thought on what Iskander's Queen offered her. She was still skeptical of the validity of the blind Black Widow Priestess Queen's  beliefs that Iskander truly desired a more intimate relationship with her than they currently maintained. She had sought Nailah's counsel before feeling brave enough to raise the topic of conversation with Iskander. She had offered her words from the heart, words from her knowledge of Syeira's heart.

""He loves you. There is nothing that the two of you cannot address so long as you are open and honest about what you want. It sounds terrifying and it is. But you are a Priestess Queen who wears the Red. Mother Night's power and strength flow through you. You are holy."

They would need to bear heirs at some point. She understood that was her duty, her responsibility to both Iskander and Odji. While most of her bonds were cold and distant, her bond with Odji was filled with warmth and respect. Although by some twist of Mother Night, it was Odji who held her leash and not the other way around. This served them both, as Odji was by far the cooler minded and calmer of the two of them, while Syeira had a rapid temper and a feral nature.

"Could you withhold anything from the High Priest? Consider that your husband deserves the same chance to know you."

No, she could not withhold something like this from Odji. Then why did she from Iskander? He was a Priest of the Darkness in his own right, and Darker even than Odji himself. He was the only person Syeira knew who spent nearly as much time in prayer as she did herself. And he was her closest friend. Why, then, did she keep her pain from him?

""Whatever happens, be honest with each other. Nothing can be decided without honesty."

The Red Jeweled Priestess Queen had spilled blood and would again without question. Odji was what held her in check and soothed her fury when it was beyond the point of her control to recall, when as a Queen, she had risen to her own killing edge and would not cease until all threats were extinguished. Did Iskander truly understand this side of her? What would she be like as a mother? Would she be cold and distant as she was with her males? Or would she be wild, an animal untamed who defended her children with a ferocity that would make even their tutors getting near them dangerous?

""But don't leave anything unsaid. No matter what, don't let him walk away without understanding you in full. You will not regret it, no matter what."

But what if she did? What if, after this conversation, he confirmed what she already knew? That he didn't want her? That he could never see her in that way?

These thoughts spun through her mind as she rose from her prayers, whatever peace she had found already fleeing her body as her anxieties quickly ate away at it, hungry for her to twist and turn in on herself. She wore robes and veils in a rich indigo, so dark as to almost be black. And of course her Red Jewel sat prominently against her chest.

She stepped into their bedroom from their private altar at the same time that Iskander returned from the Temple. It was time. "Husband. I need to speak with you. We have things to discuss."


*All Nailah's words were written by Gavin   


Offline Iskander Khaldun

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Re: Like salt in the mouth
« Reply #2 on: Oct 15, 17, 05:14:39 AM »
Husband. Iskander wanted to make light of it, joke, oh, are you talking to me, but it was too close to his heart for him to choke out the words. He didn't smile, for all the ritual beneath the sand had calmed the hurt for now. Instead he set about shedding his day robes, as he always did before laying in bed next to his fully-clothed wife. He washed his hands in the basin atop the dresser that held his clothing as he spoke, "Of course, Syeira. What is it?" He could've said more, but he didn't, because of the distracted bent his thoughts had taken during his prayers. He turned to face her once his hands were dry, and though he did not smile his expression was warm.

Syeira was small, smaller than Saiph, though the Queen of Ta-Awy claimed eleven years on the Queen to whom the Darkness had leashed Iskander's soul. There was a sturdiness to the Pruulian Mother, a sense of permanence, that Syeira's small and delicate form lacked. Perhaps that was part of the reason that he had never considered Saiph the way he looked at his wife. Perhaps he'd simply twisted himself about until he no longer knew which way his heart bent. Was it possible to know his world was ordered around Saiph's will, while his heart itself belonged to the Red-Jeweled Priestess Queen who shared his quarters?

He thought of Fanan. In another life, he would have married the Blood Opal Black Widow. Perhaps he would be a father by now. Perhaps he wouldn't be. It had all washed away in the Darkness like silt in the river. "I know my devotions took longer than usual," he said. "My heart was... troubled." Syeira understood. She, too, knew the warm embrace of the Darkness, that reassurance that flowed from the core of the earth, the comfort that could only come from perfect trust in that source of everything. "Or is it something else?"

He looked at Syeira again, dark eyes narrowing for a moment. "Did Saiph speak to you?" Fear flashed through him at the thought. He had spoken of his feelings for Syeira in a moment of weakness, trusting that his Queen would never share what she had learned. There was no part of Iskander that wished Syeira to feel guilty for not desiring him, for needing someone other than a Pruulian bastard. Surely Saiph had not...
“There are princes who go to war for no other reason than because it is a way of confirming their tyranny over their own subjects. It is only then that they feel they are really kings.”

Offline Syeira Neferet

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Re: Like salt in the mouth
« Reply #3 on: Oct 21, 17, 11:27:22 PM »
The tightening of the lines around her eyes was the only indication that Syeira heard, acknowledged, and was concerned about her husband's troubled heart. Had he prayed about the very matter she wished to speak to him about? Or was it, as she expected, that his heart was troubled because he found his deep affection for his Queen strengthening into something more resembling the love that might be expected to be found between a husband and wife?

"I will never step between you and your connection with the Darkness," she said by way of reassurance. Syeria was not known for warm or assuring words, but she did at least offer him this. "It is something else. A matter of great difficulty and yet great importance." Whatever was to become of their marriage, heirs were required. They at least needed to be able to come to terms on how that would be navigated, even if nothing else could be rectified.

Syeira had felt from her connection with Nailah how wonderful and warm a close sexual relationship could be. But she had no experience of such herself, and doubted she was even capable of such a thing. And even if she were, there was nothing in Iskander's demeanor or past actions that would lead her to the belief that he would choose such with her were it an option...

"Of course Saiph speaks to me. She is a member of my First Circle." It was a dodge. She knew what he was asking, but to answer true would be to reveal the very core of what she wished to discuss. Would it perhaps be best to simply leap in without preamble?

She moved further into the living space of their suite and sat silently in a chair. She gestured to him and asked, "Will you sit?" It didn't seem like a conversation to have standing up, but she would not force the issue if he chose to remain on his feet.

"Forgive my feigned ignorance. You deserve the truth and I hope that through this conversation many things that  have gone unsaid may be spoken. Yes, a conversation I recently had with your Queen is the reason I asked to speak with you." Her eyes studied his face. He did not interrupt her, but he did seem to take on the appearance of a cornered creature. The sight brought the predator beneath Syeira's skin come prowling to the surface, her nostrils flared slightly as it sought out the prey that it could feel so near by.

"Your Queen is of the belief that you may lack... satisfaction in our union. That there are needs that you have that are not fulfilled. Is this true?" She sat so still her usual resemblance to a doll was even more pronounced than normal, waiting patiently for Iskander's reply.


Offline Iskander Khaldun

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Re: Like salt in the mouth
« Reply #4 on: Oct 22, 17, 02:21:14 AM »
Saiph was a duplicitous little snake, just like the monsters she kept in the garden on the other side of her rooms. Iskander couldn't hate her, but his resentment flared powerfully at the thought of this trust betrayed. Surely she understood that he had spoken to her on the condition that she not put Syeira in this position; and yet here was his wife, asking about the one thing she likely would never give. Lacking satisfaction was a fine euphemism for the fact that Iskander's sexual experience of these past years had been nothing more than his hand, but Syeira deserved better than a rutting boar. He tried to be better, for her.

He did sit, half-clothed and awkward with it. It never discomfited him before to be nude or nearly so before Syeira, or at least it hadn't in quite some time. They had become comfortable with it, perhaps, over their years of marriage. But then, they'd never spoken of sex nearly so frankly. "It is," said Iskander, because he owed Syeira better than to lie. "I don't... I understand if..."

Iskander was quite lost for words. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled before him. Speaking of his heart was difficult for him. It wasn't done in Pruul and he had never done it here in Raej except that his uncle asked it of him... except with his women, and even then only sparingly. Pruulians didn't do this, and Raejians were not much different. He closed his eyes to gather his thoughts, to wrap himself in the Darkness's love and acknowledgement. Had he felt that gentleness only minutes ago? Half an hour, at most?

Syeira sat still patiently as he thought, and when he opened his eyes he was struck again by the mystery of her form. He had only ever touched her before in moments of great duress. Would the possible conception of their heirs take place in such a mode as well?

"I have never been unfaithful," he said. "I have ever honored my marriage vow. And I would never dream of... of forcing you into that which you find repugnant. I understand that I am not the type of man which you may have imagined marrying or raising children with. But if Saiph said that I loved you, then she spoke truly. I didn't, at the altar when the High Priest bound us before the Darkness; there was a different song in my heart then. But you are such that I..." He waved a hand. "I long for you. But if you do not want me, I will not make you have me. You deserve better than a man ruled by his cock."
“There are princes who go to war for no other reason than because it is a way of confirming their tyranny over their own subjects. It is only then that they feel they are really kings.”

Offline Syeira Neferet

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Re: Like salt in the mouth
« Reply #5 on: Oct 24, 17, 05:49:17 AM »
"It is."

She had known the truth of it, that a young and virile warrior, for there were none that came from Pruul who were not, despite his more peaceful disposition, would have needs of a sexual and intimate nature. She had spoken as much to Saiph, saying that if he refused to take a lover she did not know what else she could possibly do for him.

And yet, to hear it spoken aloud, to know that the man who was her husband and future co-ruler of Raej, was truly unsatisfied, for him to admit such, shook her to the very core of her. With the exception of her fury and her devotion to prayer, little emotion ever crossed the petite woman's features, but even the slender swath of her face that could be seen around the veils was enough to observe the pain that clearly shone in her eyes.

She had not expected it to hurt. This was known. And yet a part of her ached in a deep, near endless well. It was a feeling she was not accustomed to, and one she would banish from her being if she possessed the power.

The words that came next, as well intentioned as they might be, were viewed through this lens of slow, painful heartache. She tried to gather them as they came, but they just kept coming, and as much as she wanted to interrupt and ask him to please stop she would not. They were committed to this conversation now, and Saiph and Nailah both felt strongly this was an important discussion for them to have.

"I do not, nor have I ever, accused you of being unfaithful. I would, however, understand, if it were the... only way for your needs to be met. It would only be repugnant for me if you took a lover and did not protect our legacy. Obviously our heirs must be our own. I know you know the pain of such a life and I would not will it on another child." Her eyes burned in an unfamiliar sensation, one she did not care for anymore than she did the others that were arising. Her throat felt swollen, like it was difficult to swallow despite there being nothing within it.

"Saiph did say, but it was not something I did not know. I am quite aware that you have come to love me as a friend and partner. And I am," she found she needed to pause for a moment. The memories of their wedding were not happy ones for Syeira. She did not want to marry. And marrying a man who was in love with another had been hard enough. Why the Darkness felt it necessary for him to meet his Queen moments before their ceremony, leaving his attention torn between the woman he loved and the Queen of his soul, and none for his wife...

"I am aware you loved another when we were wed, although why you choose to bring up this memory now, I do not understand. I knew then, Iskander. And I saw the woman you set your heart on, as different from me as is possible that she could be. I knew then that any hope of a romantic relationship was unlikely, as I am not... attractive in that way. And while I know we have a duty to bear heirs, I also understand if you have concerns that they might inherit the... deformity of my skin."

Finally reaching the end of his words, she looked at him in complete confusion. "You long for me to do what? I do not enjoy your unhappiness. It is not fair to speak of yourself in such a way. I have not provided for you. Of course your attractions... turn in other directions. That does not make you a man ruled by your cock."


Offline Iskander Khaldun

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Re: Like salt in the mouth
« Reply #6 on: Oct 24, 17, 06:33:49 AM »
...So Saiph said half of it, but not the rest. Iskander could grasp this escape from this horribly awkward meeting. He could go sleep in the consort's chambers attached to Saiph's rooms and pretend this whole night had never happened. Syeira would likely do the same. They were both very good at pretending. But he didn't want to do that. It would hurt her to pretend and it would hurt him to pretend; the pair of them would fracture apart, becoming cold, less-than-friends. He wanted to do the opposite of that.

He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes to stave off the budding headache.

"I am an honorable man," he said, "and you are my uncle's Queen. I would never shame him by... laying with another when I promised fidelity to you in front of him and the Darkness." It was a sacred oath. He hadn't even kissed Fanan after the vows had been said, had never even been alone with her. His mind wandered to her at times, but largely it was a hope that she was well, where-ever she was. That she had moved on from him, as he had moved on from her. "What he does is not a model for me. He isn't wed to my Queen. But I am wed to his, and I will treat you as if you were mine. At first, yes, because it was respect for him, but now it is--"

He cut himself off, scrubbed a hand over the short hair of his head. "It is because I love you as my wife. I loved Fanan, I did, but she never knew all of me as you do. I didn't pray with her and share my secrets with her; she never chose to allow a hunted girl into her home simply to please me. I haven't lain with her and felt her warmth beside me for the past five years. My love for Fanan was real, but she is not my partner. She never would have been."

Iskander looked at Syeira, his brown eyes seeking hers out. He didn't deserve her, he thought. His fumbling attempts at a confession were only tearing out her heart. "I am a jumped-up half-Pruulian bastard, and you are the future Queen of Raej; but I love you. I want to see you unclothed. I find your pale skin beautiful and interesting, what I have seen of it, and I want to see more. I want you to bear my children and I want to grow old with you and I want to make you forget that I was a boor on the day of our wedding. That makes me a man ruled by my cock."
“There are princes who go to war for no other reason than because it is a way of confirming their tyranny over their own subjects. It is only then that they feel they are really kings.”

Offline Syeira Neferet

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Re: Like salt in the mouth
« Reply #7 on: Oct 27, 17, 09:02:41 PM »
Iskander spoke of why he would not take a lover. His needs openly acknowledged, and yet he would not seek the release of the pressure they placed on his body and mind. He was an honorable man, this she knew and respected him for. But in this instant, it was doing nothing but causing more pain between them, something she could not abide.

The pain of knowing he did not find her attractive in this way was sharp enough without the added barbs of his honor forbidding him to seek his release in someone who could stir him in ways she could not. The longer he spoke the more her heart ached to hear the words that he professed. More than once she nearly begged him to stop, to end this conversation if all he had to offer her was reasons why he could never find happiness while married to his Uncle's Queen. But she remembered Nailah's words, the woman who had pressed her essence to Syeira's own soul. Everything must be spoken, nothing left out. The conversation was long overdue. She would not run, no matter how tightly she folded in on herself or the sick feeling stirring deep in her stomach.

Confessions of desire for a woman he had loved when they wed wrapped around her heart and squeezed. She worked hard to keep her breathing steady. She already knew he loved her as a partner, having spoken the words herself not ten minutes prior. She was a Red Jeweled Priestess Queen, beloved of the Darkness, and heir to Raej. She would not allow a conversation with her husband see her brought low like a common woman. 

Her need to hold steady nearly caused her to miss the words his rambling explanation eventually led to. Silence spread between them for a long moment while the words he offered slowly filtered through, as slowly as the stream of sand through the narrow neck of an hour glass. When the last piece fell, confusion streaked her features, only visible around her eyes the slightest bit of her forehead.

"I do not want to misconstrue what you are saying, so I must ask for clarification to make sure I understand. You... desire me? The way a husband might desire his wife? Not out of honor or duty but out of love and, even, possibly passion?" 

Iskander's eyes would not meet hers. Deep color flushed his skin as he spoke. "I want to make love to you. As my wife. Because I desire you."

Syeira was shocked beyond reason at the words he spoke so bluntly. She had never even suspected. They had touched so rarely. He had never shown anything that she would have interpreted as desire, and yet here he sat, confessing exactly that. She rose from her chair and walked the short distance to him. She stood before him and slowly removed her gloves. She let her skin touch his as she raised his chin to look at her. He did not have to raise it far, even standing, he could look her in the eyes from where he sat. "Iskander," she said softly. "Why did you not tell me?"


Offline Iskander Khaldun

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Re: Like salt in the mouth
« Reply #8 on: Oct 29, 17, 02:57:03 AM »
Iskander knew his words, kindly meant, were received harshly. But she had asked and he wouldn't let his shame come between them, not as the partners they were meant to be. Odji had spoken the will of the Darkness when he bound the two of them in matrimony; they had married before the mighty of many Territories, ensuring that should the match not go well, their shame would be public and complete. Of course such a thought had never occurred to Odji, Iskander was sure. His uncle wouldn't have chosen to use such a potent weapon when it could so easily backfire. But Iskander had always known it, the same way he had always known that his lack of a Pruulian father gave him thin, weak blood and shame. He would be above reproach. He would be perfect. Even if it meant denying the most painfully close part of himself, he would.

He waited in silence, watching her face, the thin sliver of it which he was permitted to see. His wife's form was a mystery to him, even after these five years. The thought ached. His heart ached. And in his frustration, when she asked him for clarification, he answered as bluntly as he dared, for all he couldn't meet her eyes as he confessed his desire to rut into her, to feel her around his cock.

She came to him then, her gloves removed, her flesh against the bone of his chin. She was so soft, he thought, looking up to her. It wasn't a far distance; she was small, and he was not. Even sitting low while she stood, they were on similar heights. The last time they had been so close had been the night before Saiph's arrival. He had pulled her close and felt it an imposition to hide his face in her throat, to feel her skin through her veils. On that night, she'd stiffened in his arms, unmoving. On that night, he hadn't been sure of his feelings, had confused them for a man longing to bond to a Queen. But now he had been near Saiph for months. He knew what the bond was. He knew the differences and the small nuances and he knew that what he felt was not terrible, passionate, doomed love as he had felt for Fanan. This was something purer, strong, forged of deep and abiding friendship.

Syeira knew him as none other.

"We are married," he said, "not because we were in love, but because my uncle required it of us. And I knew that you were not... physical... when I said those vows. And I was never sure if you would welcome me, and as my feelings grew, I was never sure how much of it was longing for a Bond and how much was the love I feel. And by the time that I was sure... I was afraid that if I approached you, as a husband to a wife, you would reject me, and I would break our friendship."

He reached up to the clasp that held her veil in place, and drew it aside. He had seen her like this before, but never with intention to do anything about it. But this time, Iskander drew her familiar face down to his, and pressed his lips to hers.
“There are princes who go to war for no other reason than because it is a way of confirming their tyranny over their own subjects. It is only then that they feel they are really kings.”

Offline Syeira Neferet

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Re: Like salt in the mouth
« Reply #9 on: Nov 16, 17, 02:51:10 AM »
Her husband offered his reasons and so similar were they to hers. The exception being that he feared that he would hurt their strong friendship if he spoke of his true desires, whereas Syeira believed without doubt that he did not desire her at all. Odji had known her from a child and had always told her she was beautiful. And he had known  her on her Virgin Night, the High Priest trusted with the dual caste Priestess Queen who stood to offer so much to their land. But she was his Queen, and he her High Priest. Things spoken between them felt intimate in a quiet way, not meant for others.

Her own beliefs of her disfigurement, for that is what she truly considered it, were so strong there was no room for the allowance that another might view her differently. The fact that Iskander did, despite being so close to her soul, unsteadied her. Syeira rarely allowed for the idea that she could be wrong. She so rarely was. But here, they had misunderstood each other so deeply, and it had caused years of difficulty for them both.

Almost pulling back when he reached to unclasp her veil, instead she held, waiting to see what he intended. Barefaced, she felt naked before him. It was not the first time, but it felt very different this time. Her husband looked at her, and it was like he saw right through her. He pulled her to him gently and then...   

And then the Priestess within her awoke. She called in the Darkness, reaching for that part of her husband who could meet her in this place, who could stand in the Abyss as a Priest of the Mother so very close to her. What started as a gentle touch of lips grew with the passion that she felt for her faith, with the sharing of this piece of herself with Iskander. Only a Priest or Priestess could draw her forth in this manner. She had never even thought to try with Iskander, so sure she was of his utter rejection.

Her hands slid from his cheek, down his neck, and came to rest on his well muscled shoulders. Slight and pale against his skin, her hands slid further still, one wrapping around his neck while the other slid up the back of his head. Syeira kissed her husband for the first time since their wedding, that day his mind and eyes had been on everyone but her. Now, though, she knew his focus was hers, and her body relaxed into his arms.


Offline Iskander Khaldun

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Re: Like salt in the mouth
« Reply #10 on: Dec 03, 17, 04:41:41 AM »
Syeira didn't speak. How could she, with his mouth on hers? Iskander hadn't stopped to ask her permission, had simply drawn her down to him and taken what it was he wanted. It was the greatest of impieties, to take what wasn't on offer, but her hands clutched him rather than pushing him away as he deserved. He should have asked, he should have, but the softness of her lips on his, the sudden strength of her Red psychic scent, it all stirred something that had gone long ignored. No, not ignored, but smothered, willfully, an exercise to prove to the Darkness that he understood that this denial was his repentance for going to his marriage bed with another woman's heart in his hands.

It burned him, that desire for Syeira. Her hands were so small where they pressed against the back of his head, against the broadness of his shoulders. Her touch was warm, skin-on-skin, a sensation so rare he could hardly categorize it. He wanted more than just her hands, wanted to feel her body pressed against his, her paleness against his darkness. So little of her had seen the sun, but for her he would be the sun, he would warm her inside and out if she would let him. Iskander slid one hand down to the small of her back, pressed her petite form against him. Mother Night, who made and dwells in Darkness, he wanted Syeira. He wanted to hear her moan his name, to feel her surrender to him the way she surrendered to the will of the Darkness. That blasphemy startled him free of the moment, and though he did not move his hands, he broke their kiss. He didn't lean away, only leaned his forehead against hers.

He felt her all around him, as when they knelt together before the altar. Familiar, safe, and beautiful. Iskander gazed upon her face unobstructed by her veils. He so rarely had the opportunity to see anything but her eyes. Carefully, reverently, he drew his thumb across her cheekbone towards her ear. "May I," he asked. "May I kiss you again?" Please, Night Mother, he needed her to consent, to say yes--but if she refused him--if she refused him he would survive. He would make do. He always had.

If there was any kindness in the Night Mother for her son, Syeira would consent. He'd not make another move without her yes.
“There are princes who go to war for no other reason than because it is a way of confirming their tyranny over their own subjects. It is only then that they feel they are really kings.”

Offline Syeira Neferet

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Re: Like salt in the mouth
« Reply #11 on: Dec 07, 17, 04:35:35 AM »
When her husband broke their kiss, pressing his forehead to hers, her heart jumped into her throat. Fear and certainty flowed through her. He did not want her the way he had thought he did. Not once he had been able to see her face while he kissed her, or felt her in his arms. She was not a woman who possessed luxurious curves for hips or breasts large enough to bury a man's face against. Slight in frame and minuscule in stature, he could easily wrap his hands nearly all the way around her waist, his palm at the small of her back covering so much of her.

She had seen the woman he had given his heart to. She could not fulfill anything of what that woman could. All of these thoughts splintered her mind in the instant between his breaking the kiss and his words coming forth. And when they did, she let out a breath of relief and a small laugh at the reason he was stopping. Silly, stubborn male. She loved him, she truly did. The Priestess loved the respect the Priest offered her in that moment, even now deferring to her wishes, seeking her words of consent instead of simply taking what was his by right.

But that was not Iskander's way. If it was, they would not have spent five years of their marriage without intimacy of this nature. "Yes, Iskander. You are my husband. Let me be your wife." She arched her neck, forcing his mouth towards hers. She sucked on his bottom lip before pressing her mouth against his again, warm and soft. Leaning in closer to him, she felt his fingers flex against her skin through her robes, pulling her even closer than she had been before. Slowly his hand moved down her back until he brushed over her slim hip, and traveled further still to gently rest on the curve of her ass.

Iskander's touch served to ignite further fire within her. She reached for the veil that covered the rest of her head and hair and unwound it from her hair, finally tearing it free. The force cause her hair to fall free the bun it had been coiled in at the back of her head, falling dark and heavy over her shoulders. Syeira found she wanted to be closer to Iskander still and moved to settle into sitting sideways in his lap, waiting to see if his strong arms would pull her closer still.