Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.
The door creaked open and Strategos lumbered in, unbuckling the sword belt around his waist. He tossed it on a gilt chair and stopped to look around the chamber for her. Isadora dropped the pitcher to the floor, searching desperately for her ability to speak, to protest, to say anything. Wine splashed the hem of her dress and puddled at her feet, but still she stood staring at the man who watched her from near the end of the bed. She could not read his features; they were unchanging, inhuman like a sculpture.
His voice carrying quietly to her startled her even more, "You aught to be more careful, Prophetess." There was no hint of disdain, or humor, not even irritation, and it unnerved her immensely. She left the silence hanging, unable to spill out the words that were so wildly spinning in her brain.
He asked, "Where is she?" Isadora blinked and numbly stretched her arm out to point to the balcony. His eyes flicked to the balcony and he headed toward it without another word. He brushed one curtain aside and stepped farther on to the balcony. Through the gauzy lilac fabric you could see his outline and hear his slightly muffled greeting, "Good evening, your highness."
"Strategos." Isadora heard the queen reply.
Cressida was on her knees at Isadora's feet wiping up the spill. Suddenly the priestess could take a breath and she went down on her knees to help. Cressida handed her a cloth, but kept her eyes on the crimson mess before her.
Isadora finding her voice whispered, "I'm sorry. I just-I don't know what I was thinking!"
Cressida still did not raise her eyes but whispered back, "It's alright. Speak quietly, so as not to interrupt them."
Isadora frowned, then her eyes widened and she franticly murmured, "What do you mean? I didn't think- How- How long has this been going on? I mean how long has he- been coming to her room- like this?"
Only glancing up once the woman replied quietly, "Since she arrived."
"And are they-" The Prophetess' voice had risen.
"Shh!" Cressida hastily hushed her with a frown, "Don't upset them! Honestly, Isa, have you forgotten how to be a proper servant?" She shook her head and sighed. The white cloth was stained with the red liquid, and the crisp marble tile lay clean again. Finally sitting back on her calves she looked at the girl and said softly, "As far as I know he's only slept in the same bed with her. Others seem to think differently. Especially after the stunt she pulled this morning. But I don't know. She hasn't said anything to me." Isadora swallowed looking down at the glare on the tile. Cressida remained quiet for a moment then took the cloth from her friend's hand. "Go change. You've gotten wine all over your dress. Bring incense, Sitiah wishes you to burn it at the shrine in here. Go on." Cressida ordered her lightly. The girl only nodded slowly, getting to her feet as though she were much older than she truly was. Cressida watched as she made it to the door sluggishly, taking every step as though she were arthritic. When the door closed she dropped the rags into a bucket with a sloping sound.
The air was warm though the sun sunk lower and lower with each passing second. The breezes came in with the tide, carrying scents from all over the city, the sweetest ones from the palace gardens. The tiles on the balcony were heated from the blinding rays of the sun that had fallen unmercilessly on it all day. Strategos could feel it through the warn soles of his boots. The wind tossed the queen's hair about playfully, and she casually moved it behind one ear before rolling up the rest of the scroll in her hands. She sat it down on her lap and raised her eyes to look at the man towering to her right a couple steps away.
"Have you been out here long?" He asked.
"Since I retired from the banquet hall." She replied taking a calming breath of air gazing around at the ever-darkening sky.
"I see." He said scanning the evening twilight as well. He looked down at her taking two small steps toward the couch she lay on, "What were you reading?"
She moved over slightly, not looking up at him as she replied, "Poetry. It was given to me by one of my Arab mercenaries. I didn't get a chance to read anything other than reports in the desert." Her voice was soft, without a touch of anger or annoyance. She was only Sitiah with him, gentle, and controlled, unwavering in her mild manner. He realized how hard it was to restrain himself from sweeping her up in his arms, to smell her hair as he buried his face in its downy brilliance. He knew that she was vulnerable, that the mask she used for politics was put away for the night.
"Will you stay with me tonight?" She asked, looking up at him curiously. She had made it his decision, with no pleading in her voice, or sign that she truly wanted him to. It was an open look she stared at him with, one that told him that she would be happy to welcome him to her bed again, but would not think on it if he refused. He sat down on the edge next to where her knees rose off the couch.
Raising one hand to stroke her cheek he asked, "Do you need me tonight?" She looked out again to the east scanning the horizon that was a deepening purple-blue. Faint stars winked at her just above the crowded buildings.
Sitiah smiled back at him nonchalantly, "No, Strategos, I do not."
"You are happy that you are now queen." He said, dropping his hand from the silkiness of her face as he tried his best to keep the disappointment from his voice. However she heard it, and knew that he thought that she had only wanted him when she had nothing. She shook her head with a slightly humored smile, tugging with her hands at the pale locks of hair that had fallen over his shoulder. He looked at her, keeping his face neutral, though he knew she could see through it. She continued to let her fingers slide from his satiny hair.
"I'm happy that I am queen. But I'm also happy because you are near me." She whispered in a voice so sweet it seemed no more than a perfumed breeze. The hairs on his arms seemed to stand on end as a shiver coursed through him as she leaned her head closer in to his. Her hands were suddenly full of his lustrous strands massaging through it as though he were no more than pampered pet of hers. One hand wrapped in his hair she brought to her nose, closing her eyes as she inhaled his scent. She sighed into his ear, "You are tired, let me help you to bed." Gracefully she swung her legs down, to touch her bare feet to the floor, dropping her hands only to take his. He stood up turning to help her rise in front of him. Her hands were tiny in his, only a little bigger than his palm. He loved the feel of them, the delicacy of her smooth skin and the tiny bones beneath. She led him slowly to the bed, walking backwards to keep her eyes locked with his. She let him sit down on the bed and then she took her hands from his saying, "You have had such an arduous day, Strategos. You must let me take care of you." He felt a tickle of anxiety tremble within his stomach and he took hold of her forearms before she could move away.
"That is not necessary, Sitiah." He tried to study her expression seriously, but found her eyes twinkled with thoughts that she simply wouldn't reveal.
"But it is. You have done something tremendous for me this day! And I must repay you." She smiled slipping her arms from his grasp. She slowly put her hands on his chest near his shoulders. He could feel the light shaking of her hands on his chest and he stared at her. He could see the uncertainty she tried to hide and the request of permission in her eyes. He was about to speak when she stepped closer to him, carefully undoing the first silver button of his overcoat. He could say nothing as she made her way down the row of buttons. He made no move to stop her when she pushed at the leather over his shoulders and stripped him of the coat with quick and smooth movements. Letting it fall to the bed behind him she licked her lips focusing on his shirt. The shirt beneath was a dark blue with a dragon sewn above the hem at the bottom. She traced the dragon with her fingers murmuring softly in Egyptian. "You did defeat a dragon." She looked up at him in quiet awe.
He nodded with a weary sigh, "Yes. I'm afraid I did. My brother didn't care for the action at the time, for a long time he would not forgive me." The sadness of the memory shown clearly on his face as he frowned, his eyebrows drawing inward.
"Your brother…" Sitiah smiled secretively. Brother of Strategos, Van, the prince in Isa's visions. He is the one that could be so easily mistaken for a tribesman. Hmm… He is handsome. He looks so unlike his brother, and yet they both have fiery eyes. "I have never seen a dragon. But I have heard they are fierce creatures." She remarked.
"They are. But they are also very noble as well… When Van was younger they fascinated him. He would sit for hours studying their pictures in books, and drawing them on his own. In Fanelia he is known as the Dragon Prince." He spoke in a distant voice, seeing far away. She watched him carefully than reached up and turned his head towards her.
"Do you miss it? Your country?" She asked softly.
He shrugged with a smile, "Fanelia will always be my homeland. But I enjoy the east. It is unlike my country in so many ways. I love the exotic of the places I conquer." He took her hand from his face to hold it in his own. The solace he felt was different than what he was used to, but it made him ache for more of it.
Sitiah pulled her hand away slowly to rest it on his arm. Her hand slide beneath the sleeve to feel the flesh of his powerful forearm. "Egypt is all her own. She has a spice that is unlike any other that has touched your tongue." She told him her eyes glowing with a seducing passion. She let her hands wander over the cloth up his arm, and down his chest to the hem. Her fingertips swept beneath the hem, as her thumbs took hold of the blue fabric. She slowly ran her hands upward against the muscles of his chest bringing the shirt with. He quivered at the intimate touch and his breath came faster, but his eyes did not look away from hers. Raising his arms the shirt lifted over his head hiding the amber of her eyes. The shirt was tossed aside from her hands and she stood searching his face. He wasn't sure what emotion registered on his face, for she smiled at it and closed her eyes for a moment. When she looked back at him a blush graced her sculpted cheeks. He frowned wondering what she had seen. She closed off her emotions from him, sinking to her knees. Sitting back on her calves she began to undo the laces of his boots, not bothering to glance up to see his puzzled expression. He gazed down at her his own cheeks reddening with discouragement. She was a mystery. Some sort of sorcereress she was, able to blind him with her magic, and shroud all her secrets. Was it all a game to her? Had he, Strategos, finally met his equal?
The queen surprised him again when she stated in a temperate voice, "You spoke with my sister today."
His frown deepened, the aura that had distracted him, broken quite suddenly. "I saw Arsinoe today. She was at the banquet." He said.
"Yes," Sitiah replied tonelessly, "I saw her. She glared at me the whole time… She went to you today, did she not?" She did not dare lift her eyes to meet his, knowing the frustration that would be in them.
"I held an audience with her if that's what you mean." He said coldly. She pulled the first boot off lightly and set it aside.
After a minute or so she asked meekly, "What- did she want?"
"What do you think she wanted, Sitiah?" Folken's eyes narrowed. She felt the bite of his words and her head came up as the boot fell from his foot.
She did her best to not show the anxiety that had rooted in her, struggling to seem indifferent. She was quaking inside, as she jumped from one conclusion to another. They were both politicians suddenly, forcing themselves to forget any intimacy between them. The air was taut like a rope, the tension strung tight as they each gripped at opposite ends. Her voice strained she demanded, "And-did-you-give her what she wanted?" Her eyes were wide and glossy, the fear sparking in them as well as the strength she held to.
"Like you said, the people love her. They want her to be their queen." He replied his lips frozen into a straight line. He watched as she sucked in a breath that caused her to clench her fists and drop her eyes to the floor.
Why does he taunt me? Why does he act so smug? He knows he has my life in his hands! He knows it! I am nothing without his say! Damn it! How could my father leave me in dept to Fanelia? How could he leave me with so little power over my own rights? A deep resentment built behind her eyes along with the tears, her stomach lurched and she wanted to tear at her hair, and then leap upon the man, and claw at his face. Feeling so uncontrolled she clutched at Strategos' left leg hugging it to her chest as she laid her cheek against the leather pants.
"Tell me what I am then! Just tell me! Don't toy with me any longer Strategos, I beg you!" She cried squeezing tighter as the muscle tensed.
"Stop it, Sitiah. You are a queen now. Queens don't grovel at men's feet." He told her quietly, feeling his irritation draining. His whole body felt weak, his shoulders slumping, and his arms hanging limply at his sides. He listened as her breathing slowed and her grip loosened. Sitiah swallowed and blinked back the tears in silent astonishment. She rose to her feet too put both her hands on his face. She stood in between his legs and leaned down slightly to stare him straight in the eyes.
"I'm your ally. Now and forever, Great Strategos." She whispered to him her smile wide and generous. Sitiah kissed his cheek quickly than burned a trail of kisses all across his face with the same emphatic happiness. With the last kiss she pulled away to look at his expression. She found it one of surprise and she grinned again. "Sleep now, Folken. I'll be here when you wake." With that she pressed her lips to his, and gently pushed him down onto the bed. She smiled down at him, seeing the pleasure in his heavy-lidded eyes. Caressing the flesh of his cheeks with the back of her hand she said, "Rest, I will come back." Slowly she backed up away from him. His reflexes would always be too quick for her and he held to her wrist.
"Where are you going?" He asked in confusion.
She looked up at Isadora as the door creaked open and the priestess stepped through looking apologetically at her queen. Smiling at her Sitiah replied, "To pray. I must thank Isis for her blessings. I will return before the moon reaches its height." Her gaze fluttered back down to the man who seemed to have fallen to her influence. She could do whatever she wanted to him as he slowly drifted to sleep upon her bed. She knew very well that he trusted her. But she also knew that he was no fool, even if he did slumber on her bed, he was perfectly aware of everything around him. He released her wrist and she moved away as he closed his eyes. Glancing once at the wary girl on the other side of the bed she turned and glided away from it. Isadora followed her no questions asked, trying to ignore the still figure on her mistress's couch.
She prepared the shrine as always, opening the golden doors to reveal the lapis lazuli statue of the goddess, and lighting the candles and incense. Isadora murmured her prayers as she did each thing, feeling a tranquility cleansing her with a breath of myrrh and a sigh like the sea. Her heart overflowed with the honor of her duties as priestess as the smoke curls twisted around the shrine and flowed over her body. Her chiton was pure and white, and she wore no adornment but for the gold earrings that swung from her ears. She picked up a stick of incense and went to where the queen stood somberly awaiting her time to pray. Isa waved the incense around her sending the whiffs of the fragrance to touch the woman with its purity. She whispered the prayers in Greek, and then Egyptian knowing Sitiah's love for both. Standing before the queen Isadora bowed and backed away to sit on a pallet in the corner while her mistress approached the shrine.
The girl lay quietly sleeping beside him. He watched her naked shoulders rise and fall with her breathing. Her breasts swelled beneath the blanket and he traced a wavering line on the flesh just above them with one finger. She squirmed slightly under the heated touch, but did not wake. He smirked and pulled the cover away as he got up from the bed, leaving the whore with only a thin sheet to cover her nude body. She shivered curling into a ball muttering with her eyes closed, "It's too cold." He snickered as he wrapped the blanket around his bare waist and slipped on a pair of sandals.
He lazily wandered out of his chambers and into the main hall where most of his men were sprawled in a drunken slumber. They lay amongst pillows and couches, colored by the bright veils of the dancers' that had been flung upon their arms, heads, legs, and chests. Empty cups of gold, glittering with their gemmed sides were scattered everywhere as well as pitchers catching the early morning light. The shine of the wealth of the dinnerware reflected and danced onto the stucco walls. Wine still scented the room with its strong odor, mingled with the perfume of the women, sweat of the men, and the smells of the food crushed or forgotten on the floor and tables. The general gave a proud smile, spotting Miguel with his arm around the waist of a semi-nude dancer, and his other hand gripped around the hilt of a sword. He chuckled as the soldier growled in his sleep, slashing at the air with his blade. Miguel grunted and brought his sword down again to rest in his hand by his thigh.
With a roll of his eyes the general moved on through the corridor, the pillars on his right separating him from the remnants of the feast. The long windows to his left brought in Aurora's cleansing breath. He barely noticed as it whispered across his pale chest, hardening the pink nipples. He stopped to look out at the valley and down into the surrounding city. The cooking fires of merchants and farmers were heated, and the smoke could be seen against the tree line near the palace wall, several yards out.
Vermilion eyes narrowing at the sight of a stir in the court yard off to the right he hissed, "Damn-good-for-nothing guards. Can't ever keep it quiet around here." He blew a lock of snowy hair from his eyes and turned to head back to his room. He heard the footsteps pounding up the staircase and abruptly turned to see Viole turn into the passage. Panting the man held a scroll in his hand and stopped to bow to his commander at the other end of the corridor. Grinning Dilandau questioned mockingly, "And what news have we today? Has Strategos unfortunately perished at the hands of the mob in Alexandria?"
"No, sir. He has named Sitiah and her brother, Ptolemy, rulers in Egypt." Viole shook his head as he walked toward Dilandau, extending the scroll to him. Dilandau snorted as he snatched the scroll away and muttered to himself. The soldier waited as Dilandau skimmed over the scroll with his carnelian eyes.
Tossing it aside Dilandau rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, so they're the rulers! What about the important matters?" He turned away stalking towards his room once more. Viole obediently followed, after pausing to gather up the scroll.
"Well, as for success, we've had none. But the mob in Alexandria is still grumbling. They have their king, but not their chosen queen." Viole reported as Dilandau sank into a chair. The general made a little grunt then waved the young man on absently. "But rumor has it sir, that Ptolemy's administration is still planning. They were in an uproar when they found out Sitiah would be queen. But they seemed settled at the banquet. Still, my sources are certain that things are hardly at an end." He relaxed his stance, clasping his hands behind his back, and spread his feet shoulder-width apart.
"Right." Dilandau replied staring past his soldier at some unseen thought. He was fully aware of Viole, hearing every word, but still his mind was flying past the messages being spoken. Scheming was the only way to describe his thought process, for when it came to this red-eyed youth, there was always a battle to be fought. He blinked as though just realizing his man stood before him, "Did you say Sitiah? Sitiah is queen? Who the hell is she?"
Author's Note:
Okay, you may be wondering why I ended there, and I do have an explanation. Ch. 8 was getting kind of long, so I decided to divide it into two parts. So next update is a continuation of Ch. 8. Sorry about taking so long to update. I've been so stressed. Well, I did my best for ya'll so I hope you like it!