For those who were kind enough to review, many thanks. For those who even just read and smiled, thanks too. This is a bit of a big thing to me, writing something so AU it almost qualifies for an interplanetary journey. I hope the historical re jigging of the regular Skins names doesn't jar too much. I've tried to keep as much as possible to the originals, but you can be assured their personalities are as before. I could have just churned out a stock Naomily story, but with almost 20 of my old stories recently reposted, I thought maybe it was time to be a bit adventurous. BTW, if you're not reading 'Walls' by mswitsend, you really should be. Her take on the classic Naomily love story is brave and really different. Just be aware that she doesn't take any prisoners with her villains, no sir…

OK, more scene setting, but don't worry, Naomily is on the horizon. Just a bit difficult to engineer quite yet.

Her footsteps made almost no sound as her silk slippers padded lightly on the marble hallways. She'd taken this journey a hundred no, a thousand times before.

When she was first captured, on her home island one fine spring morning, the captain of the Turkish raiding party which seized her as she carried water for the cooking pot was bright enough to realise his bounty would be dramatically increased if he separated this particular nubile beauty from the other wailing, frightened girls they had roughly kidnapped.

Even then, it was touch and go for a while. The sea journey from her island to the Ottoman mainland capital was short. At least short enough for her not to suffer the acute seasickness affecting some of her fellow passengers. But then, seasickness was the least of their worries after the anchor was weighed and sail was set. A dozen burly sailors, intent on gang rape was a lot more of a pressing worry.

Her younger sister Amira, only fourteen summers old and her best friend Yula were less lucky. The captain only had room for one favoured captive in his quarters. He was highly tempted to sample her tempting body himself, but realised her value would plummet if he removed the one thing the Sultan prized more than blonde hair and innocent blue eyes…her virginity.

So while her sister and friends were taken repeatedly in the stinking crew quarters below, Gia 'enjoyed' the benefits her startling fair haired good looks afforded her. A straw pallet to lie on while the vessel pitched uncomfortably and protection from the horrors taking place below was her only comfort.

But the corridor she was now walking down was the her first proper look at the Topkapi Palace back then. Alerted by the captain on arrival, Cuk...the Viziers enforcer... took her from the wooden ramp as she staggered blearily down to the dockside. He steered her, frightened and wide eyed, up a long cobbled byway, passing various armed guards and staring bystanders to the imposing gates of the Palace. It was dark when she arrived, so the first thing she was aware of when they were inside the building was this cool marble floor and the rows of bright torches on both walls, guiding their way to the harem.

Cuk had been more circumspect in those early days. Before he grew jaded with corrupted flesh and emboldened by the protection of his master. The Vizier too, was less impulsive then, sure of nothing until the new Sultan had settled into his role as master of the known world. So she arrived at the harem unmolested apart from some speculative groping of her buttocks and breasts by the leering enforcer.

That first night in the palace had been utterly bewildering for a simple village girl from that long ago conquered island in the Northern Aegean. Still shocked at her capture and the rape of her sister and friends, she mutely allowed herself to be stripped naked by fussing slave women, bathed thoroughly from head to toe, then anointed with delicately fragrant oils. When she was finally dressed in a plain white shift, her hair dried and combed down her back, she caught a glimpse of herself in a beaten copper panel alongside the bath. The person staring back at her was a complete stranger. Gone was the simple village girl. Here was a new Gia.

Of course, as far as she was concerned back then, it was all downhill from there. She spoke no Turkish or Arabic at that time, but one of the girls who had attended to her in the harem was from Mykonos, another Greek island further south. Gia listened in disbelief as her shocking new duties were outlined. She would live until old age claimed her in the harem, enjoy wonderful food, musicians and the highest quality clothing and perfumes. In return, she would be expected to serve the Sultan Pasha in every way, whenever he deigned to send for her. Not something a virgin village girl looked forward to with any anticipation. But Gia had a steely core under that demure exterior. Having survived this far, she decided to use her assets wisely.

He did not send for her that night, or for the two weeks afterwards. She had no knowledge then of the secret panel used by the Sultan to view his concubines. Or that he had used the very 'storeroom' that Cuk had abused so recently to assess her potential as a bedmate… but in the meantime she was pampered and coached in every skill required to please him when he finally called. The younger women were eager to play with this fresh nubile body, and the few eunuchs who could still achieve erections were always available for her instruction on the handling of an aroused male organ. Her early shock and dismay gave way to mute acceptance as the days went on. She was astute enough to realise that the grim fate of her sister and friends awaited her in the barracks below if she failed to suitably please her lord.

But that was over 17 years ago. Years in which she had progressed from a mere concubine to a wife. A favoured wife at that. Selim had been fascinated by her foreign beauty and pale skin. The fact that Gia was a fast learner at everything was a bonus. Soon she was the subject of considerable jealousy and fear from the established wives and concubines. Within a few moons, Selim had settled her in a private area adjacent to the harem, to protect her from jealous bites and scratches. Inside another 7 moons, her early morning sickness and swelling stomach told him that she was fertile as well as sweetly accommodating.

Naomi had been born 6 moons later. Even more beautiful than her mother as it turned out. From a small, pink and noisy bundle, she developed quickly into the favoured beautiful daughter of her mighty father. A pearl...his favourite princess.

But this morning too as Gia walked to the Sultans ante chamber to await his summons, she was not alone. One pace behind her as custom dictated, was the man who had been her real protector and faithful servant for over a decade.

Tomas was a captive like her. Seized in a violent raid in Northern Africa, he was a Nubian. He'd only been a barely pubescent boy then, younger even than Gia had been. Slim, ebony black and with a cheery bright smile that he kept as an adult. But he'd been less fortunate than her at first. Cuk, although wary of despoiling Gia before the Sultan had inspected her, was far less considerate with this good looking Nubian boy.

For over two months, Tomas was used and abused in the basest and crudest ways. Bent over furniture and pounded daily, he was on the brink of throwing himself from the palace walls to the cobbles a hundred feet below when Gia took pity on him. She rescued this youth from the predatory Cuk by some judicious whispering in Selim's ear after she'd satisfied her husband one night. After good sex, the Sultan was wont to allow his favoured wife any reasonable request.

But Cuk had been angry and resentful at his masters decision. Gia got her wish... for Tomas to be reassigned to her care. But the palace enforcer took great delight in bringing her new charge to the door of the harem personally. Tomas had limped alongside him, his young face a mask of pain and humiliation. The butcher calling himself the palace surgeon had performed his task exactly as Cuk had instructed. The trail of bright blood spots on the marble which followed Tomas's progress revealed he was now a eunuch.

It took a whole month of care and the careful application of the very best ungents and balms to reduce his pain to manageable levels. Emasculated, Tomas was now able to live in the harem near his mistress, but at the cost of his manhood.

The rage and desire for revenge which burned in him towards his tormentor never faded over the years. His mistress was similarly angry at the unnecessary harm inflicted on her new favourite. But she knew it was pointless asking her husband for Cuk's head on a platter. He was simply too useful to the court. And in any case, she bore her own degree of guilt for the savagery inflicted on him. Asking for the boy to be spared daily buggery had resulted after all in this extreme pain and suffering. But Tomas never blamed her for rescuing him in such a reduced fashion. Instead, his love for the Sultans 6th wife and later her gorgeous daughter was unfailing and constant. Gia knew the man would lay down his life for her or Naomi without a seconds thought.

He was no longer a slim, almost pretty boy from an African village. Now he was taller even than Cuk, shaven headed and heavily muscled. With daily intense exercise, he was now as dangerous an opponent as anyone in the Imperial Guard. Allowed only a decorative scimitar as personal weapon, he still made an imposing and intimidating figure. Just a lightweight white robe covered his glistening torso and a matching knotted dhoti covered his remaining modesty. As a guard and manservant, he was perfect.

This day as on others, he used his position one pace behind his mistress to listen intently as she outlined her plans to thwart the Viziers scheming. Tomas had vowed to himself that if the Vizier got his way and Naomi was ordered to be sacrificed to the old goats lust, he would end the man and his ruthless enforcer once and for all. He hadn't needed to inform his mistress of this secret vow. One look in his eyes told her he considered death an honour if it meant a painful one for both Kamal and Cuk. That scimitar would cut them both to chunks of meat before one hair of Naomi's head was touched. The fact that his life would then be instantly forfeit mattered not. He would suffer the vat of boiling oil or the ritual death of a thousand cuts stoically if it came to that.

But Gia had no intention of sacrificing her most loyal ally if at all possible. She had cards to play of her own, but there were pieces missing from the puzzle yet. The search for those missing elements was her next task. But right now she had more pressing matters at hand. Saving Naomi from her unwanted suit for one.

Whispering quiet instructions out of the side of her mouth, she continued to walk towards the ante chamber. Tomas gave no sign that he was listening, but Gia knew he would follow those orders to the letter.

Once they had arrived at the ante room and Gia was ushered in, Tomas was free to leave her side. It was likely to be a long wait for the 6th wife. Already there were a dozen other female petitioners sitting on cushions, waiting for a summons from the Sultans personal secretary. In an adjacent chamber, a similar number of male supplicants waited. Gia sighed patiently and took her place on one of the vacant cushions. Favoured wife she may be, but the Sultan was a busy ruler. She knew it would likely be lunchtime before she would have to send for Tomas again.

XXX

Tomas walked quickly away from the palace, nodding at the uniformed guards on the several gates as he passed through. They had learned some time ago not to snigger behind their hands at his passing. Only twice had an unwary recruit made a crude comment about his lack of….masculinity. Tomas had beaten both unfortunates bloodily unconscious in the cobbled courtyard outside the main barracks in front of their jeering friends shortly afterwards. Word quickly got around that a lack of testicles had not hampered his fighting qualities one bit. No one since his eighteenth summer had been rash enough to challenge him. Now, at 23, he was at the peak of his strength. A deferential nod was the only gesture he encountered.

Finally, a few hundred yards from the main gates, he ducked inside a small tailors shop. But he was not in the market for new clothing. A eunuch's requirements were simple and rarely needed outside assistance. Seven changes of clothing was ample. He had those and more, thanks to his generous royal benefactor. No, today he was on quite another quest.

The shop was lit by several small, flickering lamps and plump cloth bundles were strewn over every horizontal surface. On wooden racks, lines of completed traditional men and women's clothing hung. Fine silks and imported wools alongside coarser materials for working people. The place was obviously busy, Tomas noted with satisfaction. His mistress had been very definite about which tailors to visit and why.

Once inside, he nodded to an assistant busy cutting cloth at a long table, and was waved through to the back of the shop. Pushing aside the heavy curtain separating the rooms, he inclined his head again at a young apprentice pinning material to a life sized human torso which was on a pole across the dimly lit chamber. The boy smiled back before going back to his task silently.

"As-Salam-u-Alaikum" Tomas intoned in his deep and pleasant voice. Emasculation at an early age sometimes affects the vocal chords, but he had been lucky in that regard.

"Wa-Alaikumussalam wa-Rahmatullah" The heavily bearded older man sitting at the other desk answered. Thomas was not a Muslim, but the ritual response was automatic. Even out of the palace, Tomas was recognised and respected as a feared figure.

He shook his head at an offer of green tea and waited until the apprentice had left the room. What he had to discuss today was strictly between him and the tailor, even if it involved the son peripherally.

"My mistress has requested that I speak with you Kemal" he said, deliberately using the mans first name. It wasn't usual for a stranger to be so familiar, but Tomas had learned that familiarity was a useful weapon. It spoke of friendship where none existed and that implied dominance could give him an advantage.

The older man nodded unhappily and sat back heavily in his padded chair, indicating that Tomas should also sit. He did not.

"Thank you, but I have to be back soon. Let me get to the point Kemal…."

The man blinked and his mouth settled in a thin line. This was no social call, that was clear enough. The Africans presence would be noted by his neighbours and he was starting to be concerned about this visitor.

"Please do...?" he said politely enough.

"...my mistress...the Sultana Gia...6th wife of the Sultan Pasha Selim 2nd, Lord of all the kingdoms…."

He paused, letting the elaborate titles sink in. The tailors eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock. The Sultana herself had sent this man? He straightened in his chair and leaned forward.

"Any service I can render the blessed Sultana...would be an honour, lord" he said eagerly. Tomas waved away his naked attempt at flattery.

"I'm no lord Kemal, as I'm sure you're well aware. Merely an instrument happy to serve my mistress. As I am in no doubt, you will be too?"

The tailors head bobbed hard as he tried to be even more ingratiating than before.

"Yes...of course...anything lor...I mean sir?"

Tomas was tempted for a second to tease the man...maybe ask for his daughter to break off her engagement and follow him to the harem. But this was no laughing matter. His lady Gia had entrusted him with this task. To business.

"Just a small, even insignificant matter Kemal..." he smiled broadly, which only served to increase the tailors anxiety.

"...my mistress as you know, has a beautiful and noble daughter...the Princess Naomi. The princess is almost of age and is in need of some of her own... hand maids? The staff at the palace are satisfactory of course...but my lady thinks that a person or persons from without the existing staff would be preferable. Of course, the girls should be clean, virgins and with some degree of education, however rudimentary. Their duties would include dressing and bathing the Princess and arranging her wardrobe, along with some controlled...companionship? Have you any ideas about who might be a suitable match for that requirement?"

The tailors first instinct was to recommend his own soon to be daughter in law, but she wasn't qualified in any other way. His only daughter was too young at 13 summers. No...he thought...I have no idea who..."

Then the answer came to him, as Tomas knew it would. His mistress had been careful and diligent in her research before even sending him out of the palace. But the suggestion had to be the tailors, otherwise the scheme would be too obvious.

"Ahhh" the man exclaimed, smiling and throwing up his hands at his own cleverness "...there is a friend of mine...a good friend...an honest man. His daughters are cousins of my son's new bride? He is a wood carver, trustworthy and quick witted..."

Tomas waited patiently for the man to stop praising the father. It was the daughters he was interested in.

"..he has two young daughters...twins in fact. Beautiful girls...sixteen summers I believe. Virgins both and unpromised so far. They have basic education and are good natured, I understand. They would be ideal my lor...sir.?"

Tomas's smile was more genuine this time. He decided not to press further. The mans son's wedding was imminent, he had checked that before leaving the palace. The rooms on the lower floor had been reserved. Ideal. Now he just had to leave the matter to the tailor to sell to his friend. There was always the possibility of course that the girls mother might object, but that could be dealt with if it happened. Most mothers in any case would be delighted to have their daughters elevated to palace staff. He stood and held out his hand in farewell.

"I knew I could rely on you Kemal. My sources told me you were a resourceful man. I will tell my mistress that you will arrange for these...twins you say?...to attend the palace in two days time. I will give instructions that they and their parents should be allowed in the south gate at say...mid afternoon?"

The man nodded again, clasping Tomas's powerful hand in both of his.

"I will, I will sir...thank you a thousand times for doing me the honour of serving you and your mistress?"

Tomas reached into his waist pouch and took out a single, glittering silver akce. The mans eyes widened even further. This coin was the equivalent of five days earnings at least.

"As an advance payment Kemal...make up some suitable clothing for the girls to attend in...they should be modest but not too formal?"

"Of course, of course sir...it would be a pleasure...I have fine silks, satins...even rare cloth from Egypt. I will ensure the girls are suitably dressed for their audience..."

Tomas left as the man babbled on about the wonderful clothing he was about to make. No matter, the man was almost pathetically eager to help. As the tall black man strode out of the shop and back up the hill, he smiled to himself in satisfaction. Whatever his mistress's complex plans were, he had done his part to set things in play.

XXX

"No Kati...I will not lend you my new hairband. You lost the last one you borrowed and mama beat me for losing it. And you lied about who had it last too?"

Katerina pouted, but her sister was unmoved. Her face had stung for an hour after her mothers last chastisement. She had no wish to incur another punishment. Her sister was notoriously careless with borrowed things and Yasmina's wedding was tomorrow. The small lapis lazuli hairband was a birthday gift and its absence sure to be noticed by her eagle eyed mama. It was bad enough she had only a second hand dress to wear. Katerina had managed by sly flattery and beseeching with her brown eyes, to acquire the only new piece of material her mother had left. Emilia had to make do with an old dress, newly trimmed with a spare length of lace. Just when she wanted to look her best too. It still irked her that Yasmina was now out of bounds for any more...lessons. Frustrating too. Even though it had been barely a sunset since she'd enjoyed that lush and responsive body, she still ached for the contact. So she was in no mood to indulge her slightly older sister. Being first out of the womb was an advantage her twin had never relinquished.

As she opened her mouth to refuse again, the squabbling twins were interrupted by their mother. She burst through the curtain separating their sleeping quarters from the living area, face flushed and eyed wide. At first, both girls jumped backwards. Normally, this level of excitement from their parents was a precursor to flailing hands and heavy blows. What domestic misdemeanour had she discovered now?

But it was far more momentous than a burned sheet or creased dress.

"Girls...girls..." Nergis said in a voice high with excitement. "Great news...you have both been asked to serve in the palace...for the Princess, no less?"

Katerina stared back blankly...what the…

Emilia too looked shocked. Serve the actual princess...did she mean?

XXX

Sorry, you'll have to wait for the next section. I am just coming down with a heavy cold and I'm in need of hot Lemsip/and/or malt whisky and an early night tonight. I promise to have the rest of the chapter up by Tuesday? That's if you're still with me on this journey? Another 4000 words or so just needing revisions.