Thank you guys for all your faves/follows! And I have been seeing an increase in reviews ;p which makes me very happy!
Disclaim, Schmisclaim. I don't own anything. Except Mennie and my other OCs.
Thanks to all of my readers for keeping up with me. I 3 Y'all!
The second time Menefer opened her eyes, it was late evening. Sebastian was not in the bed with her. Elizabeth was calling her name from somewhere in the house and she groaned in agonizing pleasure, relishing the feel of her aches and the throbbing in her legs and insides from her demon's thorough ministrations. She knew she had a ridiculous smile on her face and she knew her skin was flush with color and she knew above all else, she needed a bath.
"I'll be out soon!" she called to the door and she heard Lizzie's response a moment later.
"Alright, Dearest. I've made us dinner."
Oh, we were supposed to be shopping and eating and entertaining ourselves today, she remembered rolling to her feet from her prone position in the much-used bed. She threw on a dressing robe she spied hanging from a hook on the door of the wardrobe. It was plush and velvety and smelled of Sebastian. She lifted the collar and inhaled deeply. He must have worn it at some point in the day. She was giddy and light-hearted and she never felt her feet hit the wooden planks of the floor as she made her way into the bathroom and turned on the hot water tap of the huge garden-style tub.
She made quick work of her bath and dressed in a pair of slacks and a simple button-down cotton shirt and vest. She didn't bother putting shoes on her feet and pulled her toweled-dry hair back in a messy bun as she made her way to the dining room in the back of the house.
The table had been cleared of its cacophony of candles, the dripped wax peeled away and the center adorned with a more traditional candelabra; silver with blood red candles set atop its masts. Lizzie had indeed prepared dinner, and Menefer's mouth was watering with the sight of it splayed out across the buffet at the far left of the room. Ciel was seated at the table, looking rested and much more aware than he had the previous night. Elizabeth was bustling about, going between the buffet and the table, pouring tea for Menefer and herself.
"I'm so sorry, I slept through the whole day," Menefer began, but Lizzie held her hand up with a smile and stopped her.
"No, I slept the whole day, as well. Actually, I awoke with quite the hangover, face plastered in drool at this very table, and barely managed to drag myself back to my room." Elizabeth laughed as she seated herself next to the demon boy and finally took a sip of her tea. "I'm positive we can reschedule our plans for tomorrow."
"Of course," Menefer responded, taking a seat across from Ciel and taking the proffered teacup. "And how was your day, Ciel?" Menefer inquired, crossing her legs under the table and playfully bumping her foot against his knee.
"I seem to have slept through most of the day, as well," he admitted, his stern tone indifferent to her teasing. "Sebastian woke me to tell me he was going back to the bank this evening but he'd return by nine. He seemed rather apologetic for having been out all night last night. It was odd."
Menefer hid her smile behind her teacup and nodded at the boy demon.
The old priest approached her soon after her sixteenth birthday. "Menefer, your Marcus is here to see you."
The beautiful young woman beamed, leaping from her position on the floor in the room where the scribes took their lessons, uncaring if she upset any of her peers' focus in the least. She was well ahead of them as it was, only attending the lessons to kill time, since she couldn't practice the warriors' arts at all times of the day.
It had been over a year since Marcus had come to the temple to see her. The last few years he'd been on a once-a-year basis, checking in on her achievements as she'd studied and progressed, pushing herself to his ideal goal for her. She truly had one of the best minds in Egypt, the priest assured; a knack for strategy and as adept a fighter as he'd ever seen. It didn't hurt that she was lovely, and if Marcus had his way, she'd at least be the pharaoh's next concubine, en route to be the Queen. That was what the Death God wanted, she knew. For in the position of Queen, he as her personal adviser, could live in luxury, influencing everything around him. And really, she owed him her life, so it was the least she could do for him.
She raced toward the temple entrance where she knew he'd be waiting for her but as she neared it, she realized she needed to put to rest his fears that she may still be a petulant impatient child and she put on the brakes, smoothed out her garments, and tugged at the ends of the braids on her wig, making certain it was straight. The little gold beads clicked together sweetly as she walked, carefully placing one foot directly in front of the other on the sun-baked bricks of the temple.
Her makeup was simple, just exaggerated lines of Kohl around her eyes; her translucent white skirt and top garnished with thousands of beads of turquoise and agate, held fast against her toned body by wide gold belts at her neck and low on her hips. Her sand-storm colored skin was flush with excitement, her midriff bare and she felt her stomach twitching in anticipation as she spotted the back of his head near the lotus pool where she used to spar with the children her age.
He was exactly the way she remembered; not that she ever really expected a god to change unless it suited him, and he exuded an air of arrogance even when he was alone. He wore the traditional robes and shifts of Egypt now, rather than the red belted tunic of Rome; and she adored the way he looked now, even if he was slightly more frightening in the more revealing garb than he had been in Roman Legionnaire armor. She took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves and forced her crush on him to the back of her mind. She approached the first step down from the temple and waited for the priest to catch up to her. She had initially left him in quite the cloud of dust. Menefer stood there, hoping against hope that she would meet Marcus' approval now that the appointed time had come.
And as Marcus turned to spy the subject of his lofty plans standing so regally on the steps of the temple, he was stunned into silence. The priest ambled up behind her, a proud and fatherly smile plastered on his rounded face and so Marcus knew this was his Menefer, even if the voluptuous goddess before him bore little to no resemblance to the ungainly, tomboyish creature she had been. There stood above him a woman, at least in appearance, that deserved to be in the palace. He still held his doubts about her ability to conduct herself as a woman of experience and grace-but even that began to fade as she carefully and alluringly made her way down the wide temple steps to greet him.
She moved with a felicitous grace that told of hours and days and months of practice, each step rocking her hips delightfully to and fro, her abdomen taut and gently muscled, her breasts bouncing with every movement in the most enchanting manner. Perhaps, he mused, it was so breathtaking because she hadn't had any of these attributes upon his previous visit. But, he supposed, girls could grow into women in a startlingly short period of time. He found himself smiling back at her as she neared, and he hadn't intended to be that gracious or open with her, but her own smile was so bright, it didn't seem he could stop himself.
Menefer had been thinking about her first words to him as she descended the steps. It would have to be simple, yet profound. He would have to immediately know she was ready for his plan to commence. She had to prove herself in one sentence. Then he turned and locked eyes with her and she couldn't help but blush all over, seeing his unabashed appraisal of her person as she walked toward him. She wondered suddenly if she had chosen the wrong thing to wear, if her makeup was not as elaborate as he would have preferred; did he even recognize her? She was smiling at him, hoping he knew who she was, because she was well aware that the last time he'd been here, she hadn't looked one iota the same woman as she did at that moment. And to her surprise-and utter relief-he smiled back. And she knew he knew.
"Is this my Marcus that I have missed so terribly?" she asked, drawing near, and reaching out with deft fingers to grasp at the fine white linen of his tunic. She was playing her seductive card right off the bat, and it had been completely natural as it fell from her lips. "This Menefer is not quite the same as you remember, no?"
He reached up and grasped her hand in his, turning her palm up and planting his lips on it. "This Marcus is beside himself with your... changes."
Menefer smiled, pleased with herself. The priest smiled, pleased with himself. Marcus smiled, pleased with everything in that moment. Suddenly his doubt about bedding the girl-to teach her the arts of love-making-didn't seem in the least bit trivial and time-consuming. In fact, he intended to start her "training" that very night.
It was well-past nine o'clock-the appointed time for Sebastian to be home-but Lizzie and Menefer curled in Elizabeth's bed in the spacious servant's quarters next to Paula's, Lizzie enraptured by tales of Menefer's past. Their dinner had ended on a quiet note, with Ciel retiring to the study to read, so Lizzie fished a bottle of wine out of the pantry and grabbed Mennie's hand, stoutly tugging her out the French doors, across the overgrown courtyard, and up the stairs to her room.
"Did he?" Elizabeth asked, unashamed of the weight of her question, and to her credit, Menefer didn't blush. Of course, she wasn't entirely sure she remembered how to blush.
Menefer only nodded and took a sip of the wine she held in her hand. Lizzie threw herself back onto the bed dispassionately. "I can only imagine..." she mumbled, cutting her brilliant green eyes over to Menefer. "What was it like? I am so sorry to ask you all these horrible questions!" she exclaimed, "But I have no idea... I mean, it's not as if I'm a virgin. But I was never given a choice about my maidenhead and I've certainly never lain with a man I gave a damn about!"
Menefer laughed and, stretching like a cat, eased herself down into the plush comfort of the bed, careful not to spill her wine. "I don't know what you expect me to say..." she started dumbly. "It's the same to loose your maidenhead whether you love the man or not. The pain is the same. And though there were stories that the women told, that if you gave it time, or were very in love, the pain would ease and you would reach completion... Lies. All of them."
Elizabeth let out a guffaw of laughter. "I know! We have romance stories like that, too! The heroine will gaze into her lover's eyes and he'll slow down, and the pain will go away, and fireworks behind eyelids, and all such nonsense!"
"Actually, the fireworks thing is true," Menefer whispered and Lizzie looked at her in surprise. "If it is good enough... You will see flashes of light. Sometimes, even if your eyes are open."
"No..." Lizzie breathed and Menefer only nodded knowingly, a smug smile tugging at the corners of her generous lips.
"It was painful for me, as well, when Marcus bedded me the first time. Actually, it was painful the first few times. He ...well. He was none too gentle. My very first time, perhaps. He was kinder then. He didn't want to cause me unnecessary discomfort. But after that, he said it was for the best if I was used to the punishment given to a woman by a man."
"That's what he called it?!" Elizabeth gasped.
"He was a harsh man. He was very grounded-logical. He knew if I were being bedded by the Pharaoh, I would need to be desensitized."
"That's just plain awful, Mennie. And you fell in love with him, anyway?"
"I am not as logical as he, it seems."
"I don't think women are, in general, Dearest. I think we hear so many romantic stories as we grow older that when the time comes, we're lost in a haze of fantasy and the world just grows crueler around us."
Menefer nodded knowingly. "I think so. But, surely you didn't bring me here to only hear my ancient tales."
"No..." Lizzie admitted, sitting up and gazing down at the beautiful Egyptian. "I... am at a crossroads, it seems. Ciel told me something ...quite profound last night. That he may not be as 'trapped' in his boyish body as we had thought."
"That is good, no?"
"It is good. But we have no inkling of how to ...un-trap him, it seems. He seems to think Sebastian won't be forthcoming with information on how to ...change him. Though he knows that Sebastian himself is quite capable of changing his own form when needed."
"I suppose that is true, though your Sebastian is virtually identical to my Marcus. The color of his skin is whiter, his hair is longer. But these are very ...subtle... changes. Ciel growing into a man in moments is harder to grasp."
"Indeed. Though, he seems to think it possible."
Menefer fingered the carnelian obelisk at her throat absently, wondering if some ancient magic like hers could pose the answer to her friends' predicament. "My necklace makes me what I am, by feeding on the residual energy of Marcus' demonic powers. The fact that he made it a gift to me during our ...relationship, and had it blessed and enchanted by the priests in the Temple of Anubis probably makes its effects that much more potent. I am wondering... can such an artifact help your Ciel?"
"But your necklace keeps you eternally young and that is the crux of the matter..." Lizzie muttered. "What could possibly age him? Or would that even be necessary if he could tap into his own powers..."
"That's it!" Menefer shot upright like her bottom was on fire. "We only need to help him find his own way to change. If he is as much a demon as Sebastian, as you hypothesized, then surely he holds the key to his own abilities. He only doesn't know it yet!"