Chapter Ten: You're playing with the big boys, now…

Drake's POV

My stomachache only lasted, thankfully, a short day after Tommy had brought me the pills. Apparently I had eaten something that did sit quite right and was, truly, nothing at all. But, according to a command from Adam, Tommy wanted me to stay in bed one more day, to sleep off the effects of medication and to really prepare myself to go back to work. I couldn't understand the need to really baby me, much, but I let him do it because I couldn't argue with someone who had direct orders from the Pharaoh.

The morning after being fully rested, I dressed in loose fitting trousers and a vest, wearing a few necklaces and jewels that Tommy had lent to me until I was able to go out to the market to acquire my own. My hair hung around my face in waves; I still wasn't used to it, but if my Pharaoh liked it, then so could I. My sandals were strapped around my feet and I began to wander down the halls of the palace; just walking with no predetermined destination.

I took a small turn, walking the direction of Pharaoh's chambers when I saw the familiar tuft of blond hair walking towards me. Tommy had a faint smile on his face as he came up. He was wearing a pair of trousers and a shirt that hung off of his shoulders, revealing his collar bones. I blushed lightly at the sight of him. I swear, Tommy could wear a garbage sack and make it look like it was worth more than its weight in gold.

"Pharaoh wants to see you in his chambers, right now." Tommy said in a gentle voice, motioning with his head towards the large, wooden doors. I felt my heart pound in my chest and I frowned. Was it not too early for such activities? Tommy must've read my expression, for he laughed lightly and shook his head.

"It is not what you think. In fact… Your regular services will be postponed for a week, at least." I frowned further, my eyes a little wide as I turned to start walking towards the doors. What on Earth was Tommy talking about? I wanted to ask, but I figured I'd figure out the answer the second I went through the doors.

But what if it was something bad? Surely not, Tommy looked pleasant enough, perhaps a little smug. Was I in trouble? Or was Pharaoh going to send me off somewhere? No. Tommy had said I was his best friend. Even if Pharaoh was considering sending me away, I wanted to believe, at least, that Tommy would defend for me. No, this couldn't be bad or ill-mannered in any fashion. I turned, about to ask Tommy to come with me, only to find that he was already behind me, a hand on my shoulder. I turned back, opening the door and walking inside with Tommy following me.

Pharaoh was standing over towards the balcony of his chambers, talking with a man that I had never seen before. There was a table set up outside with what looked to be bottles of ink next to a chair. Pharaoh was dressed in white trousers and nothing else, revealing his various tattoos and toned muscles. I felt my face heat up as Tommy walked beside me. I don't believe I would ever get over how beautiful Pharaoh was…

Even more beautiful were his eyes, and when they turned upon us, they were gleaming in the light, "Drake! Tommy! There you two are." He said, cheerily, walking over to us. He placed his hands on our cheeks, giving us each a gentle kiss on our foreheads. I longed for a true kiss, as I had been sick and was unable to see him, but I did not want to ask for fear of stepping out of line in front of a guest.

"Drake, I have a surprise for you," Pharaoh said, stepping in front of me and taking my hands in his. I frowned, turning my head to look back at Tommy as he pulled me towards the balcony where the table and chair sat. I swallowed the lump in my throat as Pharaoh continued speaking.

"I trust you've seen the marks Tommy has on his back, yes?" He asked, and I could only nod once as he held onto my hands in the sunlight. The man, who was preparing something on the table, was well into his years with graying brown hair and kind green eyes. He was dressed in brown trousers and a shirt with what appeared to be an apron of sorts hanging around his neck and tied around his back.

"Would you like that same mark?" He suggested, and I felt my eyes go wide as my heart skipped a beat. To be, truly and officially, owned? To be protected, by not only the Gods, but protected with promises by the Pharaoh himself? My mouth went dry and I looked over to Tommy, who was just smiling in the archway between the balcony and the bedchamber. I looked back to Pharaoh, before smiling.

"Yes." I said. Pharaoh smiled and directed me to the chair, having me sit so that my chest would be pressed to the back of it, my arms tucked on top. But, first, he had me strip of my shirt. I did this, and waited as the man— an inks-man, as he told me— wiped my back with some sort of alcohol, to clean and numb the skin. Tommy came and sat on his knees in front of me, reaching up and taking my hand in his. I asked him why, but he didn't say. He just held my hand in his as we waited.

I understood why Tommy grabbed for my hand the moment the inks-man began to blot the design into my skin. He used a small needle, dotted with black ink, to make the outline of the wings, the eye, and the hieroglyphics. He moved fast for what he was drawing out, but each dot was painful. I kept my eyes screwed shut and my jaw clenched tight, squeezing Tommy's hand. He told me that he had to make the outline, and then he would begin coloring all of it…

If this was only the outline, I was in for a long day… Or two.

"I don't understand. He calls me a fragile little kitten and then does this to my back. Some logic our Pharaoh has," I complained, trying to shift my shoulders so my arms could tuck a little more comfortably under my head. But I stretched too far and hissed, burying my face into the pillow.

Tommy sighed softly, stroking my hair gently between his fingertips, trying to keep me happy and comfortable. This was my third day into recovering from the inking process after it took all of one day and half of the next. Tommy told me that I was going to have bruises from the pressure of being, repeatedly, stabbed with a needle dipped in ink. But it seemed that every time I tried to move, it felt like someone was punching my back. Everything hurt from the shoulders to my hips.

"In all fairness, Drake, he did give you the opportunity to back out of it. He was just trying to give you the choice between waiting or, officially, becoming his." He said, and I sighed softly, turning my head towards him. He was kneeling beside my bed, leaning his head into his right palm and stroking my hair with his left.

"Fair? How is it fair when he knows I can't deny him, even if he gives me the choice?" I asked, frowning. I would have sat up to feel more comfortable and more into the conversation, but the inks-man, himself, told me not to worry about moving too much. That my back was going to be hurting.

"Well, that's your own thing you need to work out with yourself, then. You don't have to feel inclined to do everything for him. If you feel you're not ready, you can say no. He's not going to push you. He suggested it, though, because he was sure that you were going to be able to handle it." Tommy explained. I whined, burying my face into my pillow for a moment before looking back at him.

"But I'm not, really, handling it. This hurts like a bitch and I'm just laying here!" Tommy sighed, rolling his eyes and smiling slightly at me.

"If if makes you feel better, I went through it, too." He commented. Yes, Tommy, I knew that already. I've seen it on your back, I know that you've suffered this kind of pain, too.

"But you're stronger than I am, Tommy. You handle pain better than I do." I said, tucking my head onto my hands again, looking over at him. He pulled his hand from my hair and I whined softly, missing the comforting touches and the heat. But he just smiled warmly at me before speaking again.

"Yes, I do handle it better. But it will pass. It's not going to last forever." He said. Rah, I would hope that it wouldn't last forever. I looked over at Tommy and I wondered, for a moment, if his smile was more of a smirk. Was he laughing at my pain?!

"Stop smiling at me— or, smirking. Stop whatever it is you're doing…" I groaned, hiding my face under my hair. I could feel my skin heating up and I knew I was blushing. Rah… Tommy frowned before chuckling lightly.

"Why?" He inquired, lifting his head from out of his palm. I huffed softly.

"Because you're laughing at my pain. And it's not nice." I said, sounding like a child. And he must've thought the same thing, because Tommy began to laugh. And he just laughed until it faded at the sight of my face. I was scowling at him, before pulling my pillow up and putting it over my head, burying my face between the mattress and the cushion. Tommy chuckled again, reaching over and lifting the pillow up.

"I'm sorry," he said. I groaned, snatching the pillow away and tucking it back under my head.

"No you are not." I huffed, feeling my cheeks flaming. Tommy just shook his head, smiling slightly.

"If you're going to be like that, then you're right, I'm not." He teased, reaching over and brushing my bangs out of my face. He smirked again at the sight of my reddened cheeks and I glared at him.

"If I could hit you right now, I would. Trust me on that." I seethed, looking away from him. He laughed again.

"Drake, violence is not the answer. And, truly, I am sorry. I'm just being an ass right now," he said. It was my turn to laugh, but laughing hurt my back for some strange reason. So the first few chuckles died to groans of pain.

"Yes you are. You're enjoying this way too much to not be." I grumbled and Tommy mocked a look of hurt before chuckling softly.

"Alright, I deserved that one," he commented, brushing his hair out of his face with his nimble fingers. He looked away for a moment before glancing back, sighing softly, "I should, probably, let you get some rest. Give you some time to heal more." I scoffed, rolling my eyes and smiling.

"Fat chance I'll get any rest." I commented, really hating my bedridden position. I didn't like feeling weak, and, with my back, that was all I was feeling. Weak. Unable to do my job and please my Pharaoh. I sighed, tucking my forehead onto my arms, inhaling slowly through my nose. I just wanted the pain to go away so I could go back to doing something productive with my time.

"Would you like me to stay?" Tommy asked, returning to his job of petting my hair, massaging my scalp. I let my eyes slip shut, but it didn't lull me quite to sleep. It was just comforting. I licked my lips and opened my eyes to look over at him.

"I'm sure you have other things to do, no?" I inquired. Tommy just smiled, shaking his head.

"No. Pharaoh is busy with other matters tonight. I think he said his advisers are coming to stay for a few days, to help him with some business with neighboring cities and such. He's preparing some rooms and talking with cooks about dinner plans for when they get here. Not to mention he wants you to rest and heal. But don't be surprised if he decides to pay you a visit or two sometime, to check in himself." Tommy commented, smiling sweetly. I felt a tug of a shy smile pulling at my lips as the idea of the Pharaoh paying me a personal visit.

"I've never though the Pharaoh of Egypt to be so… compassionate. I mean, from all the stories I'd heard prior to being brought here, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to think of him, but I was terrified, to say the least." I said. Tommy just smiled more, continuing to stroke my hair.

"Understandable. His compassion is something he did not pick up from his father, but rather his mother. From what I've heard of the stories, his mother was an incredibly patient and wonderful woman. It was tragic that she died so early in Pharaoh's reign… But he's always made it his personal note to show respect and compassion to everyone he meets. And the stories can be misleading for those who don't know him, but I'm sure things have been cleared up for you upon being here, yes?" Tommy questioned softly. I nodded once before I frowned a little, looking away. The way Tommy spoke of the Pharaoh was always so respected and well mannered. I didn't want to overstep personal boundaries, but there was a question that was lingering in the back of my mind that I wanted an answer to.

"Tommy… Do you love Pharaoh?" I asked, swallowing the lump in my throat. Tommy's hand paused in my hair and he stared at me for a moment. I wondered in fear if I had, in fact, crossed a line, but the gentle smile that spread across Tommy's lips told me I had not…

"Do I love him? Yes. The man has changed my life, for the better, even. He's, to say the least, opened my eyes about the people around me, showed me that they're not all bad. That some of them are worth living for. But am I in love with him? I can't say that I am." He said. I frowned.

"Pardon my ignorance, but is there a difference between loving him and being in love with him?" I asked. Tommy just smiled.

"From what I understand, yes. I love the Pharaoh, dearly— he's my best friend. I love his personality and his compassion. I'd do anything for him if he asked me for it. But… If I were in love with him, I'd feel differently around him. My heart would race every time that I saw him, I'd forget to breathe every time he smiled or laughed. And it would feel like we were the only two people in a room whenever I'd be around him," Tommy said with a beautiful smile adorning his plump lips. "But… I do not feel this way around him. Therefore I do not believe I am in love with him. But that doesn't mean it may never happen in the future. It's just not now." He finished with a gentle shrug.

I smiled at him, thinking for a moment. Heart racing? Forgetting to breathe? I felt those things now, but I was sure that it was because he was extraordinarily beautiful and incredibly kind. That I was in awe by him entirely. But from what Tommy had described, it could have been more than that… But how could Tommy have known all of this if he wasn't in love with the Pharaoh? Had he been…

"Tommy— forgive this personal question, but… From your descriptions of love, have you ever been?" I asked. Tommy's eyes went distant, seeing right through me. As if he seemed to look back on something, seeing it before his eyes instead of seeing me. His gentle smile was still in place, but his distant eyes told a different story. One that looked almost… sad.

Tommy blinked once, the daze clearing before he looked to me, "I was, once, yes… But… Him— not so much." He said. I felt my heart clench in my chest and I shifted, taking his hand in mine.

"I'm sorry," I commented softly. Tommy just shook his head, smiling slightly and squeezing my hand in his, as if to say not to worry about it. But I felt bad. I asked him something rather personal and wanted an answer out of it. And the answer wasn't exactly the most kind and heartfelt one, either.

An awkward silence fell between us— at least, it felt awkward to me. I was still feeling guilty, but Tommy just held onto my hand, staring down at it for a long while. I blinked, shifting a little more to become comfortable. Tommy licked his lips, looking up at me with a sweet, gentle tug up at the lips, "He's proud of you, you know." He said. I frowned, looking over at him with a confused expression on my face.

"The Pharaoh, I mean. You probably don't fully realize it, but he's incredibly proud of how you're adjusting; learning, adapting, everything. And you've only been here, what, a month? If that?" Tommy said with a smile that was infectious. I was smiling back, blushing and feeling embarrassed. I looked away for a moment, taking a deep breath before looking back.

"Forgive me, but… Does he truly like me?" I asked. It was my biggest concern. I knew that he was proud of me and I knew that he wanted me to be comfortable around him. But I was always so worried he only wanted me here because I had been a virgin…

Tommy laughed gently, "Yes, he does. He really does, Drake. And do you want to know how you can tell when he likes someone and when he doesn't?" He suggested. I frowned at first, before nodding once, deciding not to trust my voice to try and speak.

"It's in his eyes. He might be smiling, making jokes, but, to see the truth, you have to look at his eyes. If he likes you, his eyes are warm. They're unguarded, often light in color. If he doesn't, or it he's angry, it's like there's a wall behind them, shielding his truer emotions. They're dark." Tommy explained, his fingers tangled in my hair. He'd stopped in mid pet to tell me and simply had not yet continued.

"How long did it take you to figure all of that out?" I asked him, curious. It was incredible, to be honest, that Tommy was able to take away knowledge to that degree. Especially since most lesser people were instructed from birth never to look the Pharaoh in the eye unless he required it of you.

"After my first year of being here. I noticed it when he found out that some of the laundry boys had raided his wardrobe to sell jewels and necklaces on the black market. I've never seen him angrier since that day. Not because some of his property had been stolen and slightly damaged, but for the betrayal he felt from his workers. I remember, he sent them to work out at the pyramids as punishment. He was very quiet and reserved, didn't speak for a week. He didn't require my services, but I often spent my nights with him just to be there as comfort…" Tommy said, trailing off after a moment. I stared at him, unblinking and unbelieving that people would intentionally do things to hurt him to that degree. It wasn't… It wasn't right… And not for the obvious reasons, but… Pharaoh was a kind and gentle person… How could anyone do that to him?

"I… I can't imagine him ever being like that…" I said softly. Tommy smiled slightly, looking away for a moment.

"It hasn't happened since then. It's very rare for him to get so angry that he's just quite. More often than not, he sings when he's happy." Tommy said. I looked over at him quickly, surprised.

"The Pharaoh sings?" I exclaimed, and Tommy just laughed.

"Yes. Quite beautifully, too. Like Rah gifted him with the voice of angels." Tommy inquired, smiling sweetly. "For now, though, you should get some sleep. You've have an exhausting few days." He said, leaning forward and kissing my forehead. I grumbled, not wanting for him to leave or to go back to sleep, but the way he kept stroking my hair was quickly lulling me to perfect relaxation.

"Can you sing, Tommy?" I asked sleepily, and Tommy snorted.

"Not to save my life. I play guitar. One day, I'll play for you." He commented, leaning down and kissing me on the corner of my mouth. I felt his fingers run through my hair three more times before I was out like a light.