Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.
Continued…
"Your destiny?" His eyes searched hers in bewilderment.
"Yes," She answered after a moment's hesitation, "It is my destiny. I have been told so by my Prophetess." She raised her chin a little blinking away her own disconcertment. Why does he stare at me so?
Strategos slowly smiled, his amusement making the princess flush, "Ah, so you do put your faith in magic."
"No," She frowned shaking her head innocently, "Not magic. I put my faith in the divine. And in my Prophetess' ability to see into the future."
Her lips puckered out in an almost childish pout. The corners of Folken's mouth twitched as he found himself wanting to laugh at the expression. She seemed so simple in that moment, so very like a young girl whose true desires were for adventure, and the beauty of things around her. He felt a sudden quiver in his solid wall. He pitied the girl who stood before him arguing her rights so bravely, though she knew she might matter no more than a fly to him; only a temporary annoyance.
He let his eyes take on a softer look, the red of his eyes no longer flaring so bright. He kept the amused look, but lowered his voice to a civil tone, "This Prophetess, tells you the future?"
She nodded, "She has visions. She is a priestess. My favored servant."
"I see. She's a slave then. You ask her to see visions for you." He replied.
"No! She is no slave! She serves me because it is her will- her own destiny that she foresaw. She is a friend first and foremost… I do not ask her. She cannot choose what to see. Her powers come from-Eset. And Thoth. Well- I never ask unless it is important. And even then she can only try…" Sitiah quickly informed him her temper rising again. She took a deep breath glancing away from him. She relaxed exhaling softly. Turning around to put her hands on the white stone rail she said, "You know, she told me destiny would bring me to your feet." Folken smiled with a chuckle stepping to her side a step away.
"You truly believe in Fate then. How puzzling," He stared down into the garden below shaded by trees surrounded by fragrant flowers. Thinking of such flowers, the princess' own fragrance touched his nose again, reminding him of its delightful scent.
"Puzzling? Why is that?" She could not stop the smile spread on her face. His voice was lilted with gentleness, but strong and powerful at the same time. She liked his voice. She could feel light warmth in it, and a sensual undertone that she thought handsome.
"Because, I too count my luck by Fate. The knowledge of my destiny kept me to my pledge to bring Gaea under one flag." He answered seeing far past the palace walls with his intelligent eyes. Sitiah stiffened at the mention of his position. She felt a nudge toward taking hold of her desire.
"But that flag is of Fanelia. Egypt is not Fanelia," She said turning toward him. He only glanced at her then out to the city beyond the walls.
"It is a vassal of Fanelia. Egypt owes tribute to my land for the support it has given in times of need." He said steadily.
Sitiah bit her lip in frustration then looked at him with a determined frown, "We give you our grain for that. But there has been famine in this land, and it is my people who suffer from paying such-tribute. Fanelia demands tribute from everywhere! Surely Egypt's grain cannot be so important to your country!"
He refused to look at her, feeling his anger building again at her seeming want to pick a fight. Trying to keep his voice calm he replied, "Egypt exports more than any other country on the planet. All of Gaea sends for grain from here, from Alexandria. It has resources enough to feed Fanelia alone for hundreds of years!"
"There has been famine! With the added tribute we pay to Fanelia, we do not have enough to feed ourselves. True our trade is filling the treasury, but the people cannot eat gold and gems! As queen I must keep the country's commerce in check!" She argued fervently.
He sighed tired of debating with the obstinate woman. "You still press upon me that you are a queen, when it has yet to be decided." Sitiah was left open mouthed, disbelief clouding the now golden eyes.
In utter desperation she grabbed a hold of his arm crying, "Look at me! Can you not see what is meant to be? How can you ignore what I tell you?" She pulled at his arm. Agitation clear in the stormy depths of his eyes he whirled to face her slapping her hand away.
"I am Strategos! No one tells me what I must see! You overstep your bounds once again Princess Sitiah," He spat bitterly taking a firm grip on both her upper arms. He shook her fiercely, "Do not make me kill you!"
He was breathing hard, his rage so furious that his face had lost its moon-paleness, and turned to a creamy peach.
Her eyes full of fear and salt water, she retorted in a broken tone, "No! Strategos please let me keep Egypt! She must not become another Fanelia! Please, understand, that she cannot!" Before she had meant to her hands sought the fabric of his shirt, her fingers winding around it. Her own voice was panicking inside her in mass disorder. Her heart was trying to leap from her chest as she fought to fence in the sobs rising in her aching throat. Searching his face she watched as he went from anger to confusion to sympathy. He swallowed hard his eyes taking on an odd look she had not seen before. He was questioning her silently; she could feel the weight of his stare as she met it with her own. He had drawn her closer by taking a hold of her so roughly. They both emanated with heat, their bodies no farther than an inch or two away. Something passed between their gaze like an electrical snap that surprised them with its force. A sudden breath of air from the desert swept in a quiet serenity. The khamsin that had bombarded them was no more than a tiny dust devil throwing a tantrum.
Sitiah, nodding in awed understanding, whispered, "You see it, don't you? You know that I can see into you… And you see into me, yes?" Strategos could not answer, his mouth too dry to utter a response. He nodded slowly.
He opened his mouth to say something, than closed it, his eyes narrowing abruptly. The woman blinked sensing his unrest, and waited silently for him to tell her what made him so still. She knew in her heart that she needed no explanation, finding that she'd put her trust in him. He was squeezing her arms more tightly, a warning that something was not right.
The whooshing sound seemed to last for long seconds, as though the arrow cutting through the atmosphere flew in slow motion. Strategos' moves were lightning quick, throwing his arms about her as he dove to the floor bringing her down with him. Time sped up again to its normal pace and Folken rolled on top of the princess, shielding her from the arrows that slanted like rain from the opposite rooftop. He held her head in his arms, tucking it forward as he did the same; their foreheads pressed together. There was a shout from the guard below in the garden, and the fire ceased. Panting Folken lifted his head listening intently as guards were called to attention. He was frowning as he carefully slipped his arms from beneath the princess' head and lifted his body from hers to roll onto his side. In an instant he was on his feet scanning the perimeter. Certain that he could leave the princess a moment he strode into the room and flung open both doors.
"There's been an attack, from the roof across from my chamber. One man armed with ten arrows. He shot only four. Be on your guard. Have men searching for him, he was carrying a sword, and two daggers concealed in his boots. He was dressed in white robes, his head covered like an Arab," Folken informed the men at his door pointing them down the hall. "I want him found and taken to a secured cell, I'll deal with him in the morning!" He shouted his orders down the corridor at the two men dashing to carry out his commands. The guards out of sight he backed into the room and slammed the doors shut. He hurried back onto the balcony where Sitiah sat frozen. He knelt by her taking notice of her heavy breathing and trembling hands. One hand held to the back of her mouth, her arm around her stomach, she looked as though she would be sick. The eyes had grown large with terror and shining gold. She blinked looking up at him as he took her hand slowly from her mouth and held it. Her hands were still shaking and they felt like soft snow within his warm hands.
Concern etching his brow he asked quietly, "Sitiah, are you alright?" He studied her as she stared at him as though she'd never seen him before. "Sitiah, you must come away from the balcony." He urged calmly. Still she did not move as her chest quivered with the pounding of her heart. She closed her eyes only to open them and lock them with his.
Immediately she leaned in flinging her arms about the man's neck, whispering, "Strategos!"
His eyes closed and before he knew his intentions his arms went around her, one hand resting gently on the rippling hair. He smoothed it gently murmuring reassurances to her, "It's alright princess. You are safe. My men are now searching for the assailant."
Her perfume rose all around him as she buried her face in his neck crushing her upper body to his. He was aware of the downy feel of her curls beneath his hands and against his cheek. He opened his eyes feeling a duty to keep her from harm. It was odd to feel her shivering and know that she held in the tears. He let his arm fall from her waist to the bend of her knees sweeping her up as he got to his feet. He cradled her light frame in his arms walking into the chamber toward the bed. Her head rested on his shoulder her eyes closed, knowing she was out of harm's way. Laying her down on the bed, he sank down to sit beside her feeling her perfect skin as she let her arms fall from around his neck. His emotions, he was uncertain of, but his heart knew that he had won a great battle. His fingers moved to clear the black curls from her face. Her breathing had slowed and he was aware for the first time that her arms were bare and she wore a Doric chiton with a low v neckline. He watched the rise and fall of her chest beneath the sheer white fabric her breasts barely veiled beneath. Never had he looked at a woman in such a way. Never had he felt the rise of desire within him that she inflamed.
Enchantress. He thought reprimanding himself with a shake of his head. He smirked at himself. Fool. You fall for the girl who calls herself a queen. And you thought you'd foresworn all earthly pleasures to conquer the world! Then you find yourself distracted by an argumentive palace brat? What kind of soldier are you? He banished the unwanted thoughts with a force of will. He rose from the bed slowly; he'd thought she'd fallen to sleep. Her hand shot out suddenly to take hold of his wrist. He looked back at her seeing the exotic eyes opened wide with fear.
"Please," She murmured softly, "Stay with me." He could hear the accent in her Greek words; it was a slight roll of the words from her tongue. He stared at her watching as she searched his face longingly for some sign of gentleness. What was it she was truly asking? He sat down again looking from her to the door and back again. "Please, Strategos- don't leave me." She said urgently. She didn't really plead; she was a queen, queens do not plead. But still there was a hint of need to her voice, a little sorrow in it as well. Closing her weary eyes again she whispered, "Just stay with me." His will was forgotten abruptly. What did he say to such a thing? Surely she wasn't implying… No, of course not, she was only a young woman. She was frightened that was all; she had probably never experienced an attempt on her life. As before she spoke in a quiet voice urging him to stay, "Lay with me. The sun has gone, it is getting chill."
Folken's eyes widened. He knew she could not be ignorant to the invitation she'd made. She was not such a child that she didn't know what men and women had done since time began. What was he to think? She was lying in his bed, helpless it seemed. She wore a gown of materials that no decent western woman would wear. Not to mention that she was a beautiful youth, with a figure that no man could easily ignore… Folken made a disapproving grunt at the thought glaring at a vase in the corner of the now shadowy chamber. No one had gone in to light the lamps or set warm coals in the brazier. The whole palace had grown quiet, as though it had been abandoned and held no life. But the queen seemed alive enough as she tugged at the man's tunic.
"Do not make me order you." She snapped mildly, though she knew it had no sway over the man. He smiled at this, amazed that she could tease him at such a time.
Finally he said, "I do not think that you are in control of your senses, Princess."
Her eyes flew open as she insisted, "Of course I am!" He was silent watching as she gazed at him with no remorse. Her voice lost its waspishness and she sighed, "Please Strategos. I feel broken. I've never asked anyone for comfort, not even when my father died…Do not make me plead, it is not becoming of a queen or princess, whatever you wish to say I am this night. For now I need warmth, come, please lay down and put your arms around me." Her lids fell shut, her lashes so long they brushed her cheeks.
As always he regarded her seriously, thinking on her words as though they were official business. But he felt a waver in his strictly political barrier. She was reaching out to him, and oddly enough she had stirred something within him. Companionship was the last thing he thought Sitiah would offer him, but still he could not deny hearing the yearning in her whispers. It was enough. He didn't wish to fight her anymore that day. However as he nudged her to move over he knew that he had not heard the last about her Egyptian Politics.
He lay down next to her, as she turned on her side to look at him. They were face to face, barely any space between their heads on the pillows. Sitiah sighed in contentment. Her breath smelled like honey, and from that moment on the scent of it would always haunt his memory, as would the perfume she rubbed into her glowing skin. There was no hesitation when he laid his hand on her cheek smoothing the tears away. She smiled at this closing her eyes as he began to caress her face with his fingers. His warm fingertips brushed over her slightly parted lips, which were as velvety as the blue silk of the bed. Strategos found himself aching to taste her mouth. He knew she would not protest, but he let his musing wash away with the soothing tide that cleared his weary mind. He busied himself with the ebony curls picking them up to place them behind her shoulder. His hands fell to her bare arms, traveling over the flesh several times before they wandered back to her face. Sitiah said not a word as she opened her eyes a slit and moved her body closer to his. She snuggled against him fitting her body so that there was no room between them. Her breath tickling his neck she sent shivers up his spine. She laid a light kiss on one of the soft places on his neck. He closed his eyes at the feel of her lips, like a butterfly's wing fluttering once against his flesh. His arms went about her without a thought drawing her nearer still as though he'd crush her against him. In response she smiled wriggling from his arms and pushing him to lie back on the bed. Before he knew her intentions she was atop him her cheek against his chest, her eyes once again closed. He was startled staring down at the top of her head. He squeezed his eyes shut, inwardly groaning as he realized she was at that moment falling asleep. He was much broader than she, so that she could lie comfortably on him as though he were a bed. But he knew his body beneath her meant more than that to her, and slipped his arms around her slim waist.
Sleep called to him like it had not in a long time. He'd always been much too busy to answer its call. But now he was surprised and delighted to feel it flooding him with ease. He relaxed, keeping his arms securely around the princess.
It didn't seem as though he were at the center of the greatest city in the world. It did not matter that all around the palace were thousands of people of every culture, speaking several different tongues, gathered together in their homes to have their evening meal. There were only two hearts beating within the palace. And oddly enough they had started a rhythm that kept every beat in sync.
Author's Note:
Ahhhhh! It's so hard for me to use those two words anymore: in sync. It gives me the bad shivers, like I'm referring to the pop group. SpuuuuueeewwwwwSkippy style! LOL I miss watching Animaniacs! Can ya tell I'm tired? Blimey!
Khamsin is a hot south wind from the Sahara that causes sand storms in Egypt and places the Sahara affects.
Historical Note:
As far as I know, there was no dramatic balcony scene in the life of Cleopatra the VII. Perhaps there were assassination attempts, which do not seem unlikely considering the world in which she lived, but there has never been documentation about such an act. One thing that is thought to be the truth, is that the night Cleopatra arrived she went to Caesar's bed. It was nothing new for the great general, for he had a reputation for having a strong sex drive. When word reached Rome however, it was a different story. It was a scandal to some, and to others it was a reminder of Caesar's dominance in the east, and still there were others who did not care. Rome's classes all held their own opinion of him. Caesar is rumored to have had many different affairs, with both men and women. If you wish to read about that I suggest a nonfiction book about Caesar and his life. There will be a difference in character when it comes to Strategos.
Cleopatra in comparison to Caesar is thought to have had only two lovers, Caesar himself, and Marcus Antonius, better known as Marc Antony. Caesar was the 18 year old Cleopatra's, first.
AN:
I'm still wondering if I should end the fiction with those two and their relationship. Or I should go on and finish her story. Because, as those of you who've studied this know, there are moments for tears after the story of them getting together. And I really want Folken to stay as Sitiah's love interest, because… I just luvvvvvvv that studmuffin! Meow! Sorry. But still there is more to it because there's Marc Antony to consider… I don't know. Well let me know whether I should completely change the story to fit Folken & Sitiah, or I should go on and choose a Marc Antony, or perhaps end it with not all the major events of Cleo's life… Please, I really need help here! As for what happens between Straty-Baby and Sitiah on her first night back in Alexandria, I'll let you think on that for a while before I update again. Gracias for the helpful reviews!