Chapter 36: Return of the Dreams

"Marry me Salomé," Ramses pursued, holding her by her arms, as she struggled free.

"Never!" She cried out, hitting his chest.

"Give yourself to me!" He commanded.

"NEVER!" She cried out again, looking straight in to his eyes. "Ramses…let me go or I'll..." she was cut off by a sharp slap on her face. She fell down to the ground, touching her sore cheek.

"You will succumb to me, in every way possible. I will have you!"

Salomé tossed and turned in her sleep, stretching out for something that was not there.

He snapped his fingers and his men turned her around, where her back was facing him. She did not anticipate what he was doing, until she felt a sting on her back that made her scream like never before.

"That's the scream I wanted you to do, when I wanted to enter you. As I wanted you to feel a pleasurable feeling than pain itself, you rejected it." He brought the whip again to her back and the sound of lightening hissed. Her garment was ripped with strips of holes and her blood seeped through.

"Release her!" He commanded, and his men let her body fall limply to the ground. Salomé eyes began to droop, but she gathered some strength from her arms to pull herself up. However, she fell back down, even more sore and weak. Ramses walked to her, raising her skirts, so they were knee-length. She tried to release his hold, but he was too strong for her. He came between her legs, and began to grind his manhood to her innocent prize he desired.

"Ramses…no!" She yelled, begging him to stop. But she was unable to resist the euphoric feeling. "Stop…please…stop….don't…"

Her hands skimmed down her body, feeling her breasts and her inner core. Every nerve in her body reacted to the touch in her dream. It was a feeling she longed for and yet despised at the same time.

"You like that my dear…don't you?" He whispered. Then he stripped away his pants, and raised her leg so he was able to thrust himself inside of her. His movements were slow at first, but then his speed increase. Salomé's resistance was no longer clear and soon she began moaning like there was no tomorrow. She still begged to stop, but her body was no longer in her control. It was now Ramses to control as he once desired to conquer. Immediately Salomé screamed out her frustration and found herself rising from the ground….

And out of her sleep. She panted heavily, looking around her chambers. She touched her lips, and began cry in her hands. They have come back…her most dreaded fears. The nightmares, for which she thought, had gone.

These nightmares were in play with the curse that Ramses placed on her. And now they have became more serious and darker than ever before. But first it started off with the memories that were the last of Ramses.

She dreamt of the night he first kissed her.

"Let me speak. You owe me that much." She nodded for him to continue. "It's possible that…one of us may die. I do not and wish for that to not occur, but I cannot escape the odds. If it does come to that, I ask one favor you. I ask for you to give me one kiss."

"Ramses, I can't. I know you always wanted that; but I don't know how…" Before she had the chance to finish, his lips instantly capture hers fervently. He moved her head to the side and parted her lips slightly to taste her sweet, pomegranate lips. His hands ran through her hair and around her waist. As if by force, she leant in towards him. Like chains, she encircled her arms around his neck, before softly caressing his cheek. Yielding to the soft strength of his kiss that engulfed her; her brain had finally come back to her and then she realized what she was doing. She immediately backed away from him as he held a perplexed look on his face. She turned her back towards him and inhaled deeply before saying, "I shouldn't have done that."

"I'm not sorry," he replied seconds later.

She dreamt of the fights, the anger, and the betrayal that was all written on her face when she saw him.

"Princess Salomé, may I introduce you to our master and King…Ramses the fourth."

Her expression was mystified. Words could not form from her lips. Ramses came forth and her breath hitched. She was mortified by his presence. Her eyes widened in anguish, as she felt a sting of pain erupt in her body. There stood Egypt's traitor, Ramses; who was beloved by the people, and by her father. Everything was happening so fast, that she needed to take a breath. He was the last person in Thebes she wanted to see, and now that he was in control he could command whatever he wanted. He had dominion over her as well.

"Salomé, you're safe?" he said gently, walking closer to her.

"You! How could you!" She said, without hiding the tears of hate as they cascaded down her face.

"Even I was surprised you were able to hide for so long. I often forget that you are the daughter of Isis. Naturally, we knew you wouldn't be able to leave the country, because someone would have recognized you. Even your people had so much trust in you, you could not abandon them. The guilt would have been unbearable."

Now, her Egypt was gone into the hands of the man she dreaded. He bamboozled all of her family. Before, his loyalty to her was misguided and ambiguous, but she saw where his allegiance truly lies with.

"Answer me. Why did you do this?" She demanded. "Where is my father? Where is Elijah?

"Don't be so sad, I'm here now. I will take care of you. I promised you I would…remember." He tried to touch her face to wipe the tears, but she slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch me! You are not enough of a king to touch me!"Instantaneously, he slapped her back, hard on her cheek and she collapsed to the ground. Salomé held her hand to her throbbing cheek, and as she looked up, she cursed him in her known language. One of the men was about to whip her, but Ramses stopped it.

"Hold your whip! I will deal with her impudence. Take her to my chambers; I believe I'll be able to calm her down."

She also dreamt of the night he almost took her.

"You brought this on yourself," Ramses whispered egregiously. His grip loosened, but he took one of her legs and positioned it on his right hip. She spit in his face, and he slapped her harshly letting go of her neck. She hid her sore face in her disheveled hair, but instead he grasped her face in the palm of his hand and passionately kissed her. He held her hands to her chest, but kept his body tightly closed to her, leaving no gap, not even air to separate them at last. His tongue battled with hers, and his hands impatiently grasped her face. Her hold released and ran her fingers through his hair, giving in. She moaned unwillingly and as he did. She opened her eyes and noticed that Ramses was induced by her willingness.

She let this charade continue for a little while longer, before tightly grasping his hair and pulling his hold off her. All of a sudden, she punched his face with her elbow, kicked him in the stomach with her knee, and swung her leg to kick him in the face until he fell to the ground. She quickly ran away, before being tripped by him. Her ankle was aching, but she managed to turn around and crawl on her knees. She begged for something to give her leverage, anything that could be useful to her. There, in the darkness, she saw a sword. It was hanging on the other side of the room. She wanted to reach it, but it was too far away. But she tried, crawling as fast as she could. She only was moments away, when she was grabbed by the hips and placed over Ramses shoulders. She was thrown back on the bed and shivered. She could not do anything anymore; for she felt the fatigue and the hope grow cold.

And through those nights of discomfort and agony, Salomé found it hard to sleep. And there was no one to comfort her. Of course, she tried her best to hide them from Charles, but she knew that he would see through her and her dreary eyes. However, she would be too tired to argue.

"Samira, fetch me my shawl will you?' She asked her maiden and Samira went for the task. A cough rumbled inside of Salomé's chest. She covered her mouth, for fear of spreading it. When he grasped her shawl, she wrapped it around her, and walked out. She walked towards the outside, feeling the gentle breeze. Another cough came, and it seemed to irritate her more.

"You shouldn't be outside…" whispered Charles, as he leaned against the wall.

"You shouldn't have to worry about me Charles. I can manage," she said coldly.

"I know you can," he admitted softly, strangely taken back from the tone of her words. Charles took a moment to reply, pondering what disturbed Salomé at such an hour. "Are you well, Salomé?"

"I'm fine, need I say it again!" She snapped, walking off on her own. She brought her hand to her head, softly touching the soft pallets of her temple. Soon Charles caught up with her, still concerned for her well-being. Then he remembered he had something to give her and decided to press to happily news.

"I have something for you," he sang, trying to loosen her grumpy tone. Her mood has been a toll on him, ever since she entered the room.

"What?" She asked, disinterestedly. Before she knew it, Charles held out his hands closed before her. "What are you doing?" She asked, puzzled.

"Pick," he said. She looked skeptically at him. "Just pick one."

"That one," she said, pointing to his right hand. He turned his right hand over and opened it revealing a ring, with emerald crystals decorating the golden band. Her hands shot up to her face, as a light shiver went through her body. She couldn't believe what she saw, and soon her eyes began to well up. "Oh, Charles! You shouldn't have!" She said modestly.

"It's your engagement ring," he said. "I knew you wouldn't be able to wait too long for it."

"But I can't wear…can I?" She watched as both his eyes lit up like a candle. "You are such a strange man, Charles Brandon. What's in the other hand?" He turned his left hand over and opened it to reveal a golden chain. "Oh! You definitely know how to make a girl feel special. She took the ring and slipped it on the chain. "Can you put it on for me?"

"With pleasure," was his soft reply. He took the necklace and clasped it around her neck. "Even though, you can't wear it on your finger, you'll have close to your heart. That why, we know it means something to us."

"Thank you," she thanked graciously. "I absolutely adore it."

"You're welcome. I saw it the other day, and found myself in reminisce of looking in your eyes." She blushed, feeling her cheeks warm up to his compliment. Another cough came from her, but she regained herself quickly. She tightened her shawl around her.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier. Forgive me?"

"How can I say know to those gorgeous eyes?" She smiled, letting him know her mood was changing. "Salomé, please…it's chilly out here," he urged, as they began to sit down on the concrete bench.

"Will you stop worrying, even if it's for my sake?" She assured, grasping his hand.

"You're ill," he said plainly.

"I am not sick," she argued. "I just have a cough," she explained, pushing the thought away.

"And you look like you haven't slept for days?" He observed her puffy, red eyes.

"My dreams have not been friendly to me, so some nights are hard. But I'll be okay."

"Let me help you, Salomé. If you just listened to me…" Charles persisted, before he heard a scream from his beloved's lips.

"I don't want to listen to you! I am perfectly capable of managing myself! I don't need a man to take care of me!" As soon as she stood up, she felt a little light-headed, and found herself crumbling to the ground.

"SALOMÉ!" He called her name, but there was no response. "SALOMÉ!" He took her in his arms, looking at her solemn face, with no expression on it. "SALOMÉ!" He called, shaking her body, but it was no use. Frantic with fear, Charles carried Salomé's body all the way to her room, and sent out a message for the physician.