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To say he was thrilled to be home was an understatement. The campaign that had seen him in the far southern desert for nearly three months had been challenging, pushing him further as a leader and a man than he had been since the conflict with the Greeks. His grandfather remaining at home sent him frequent communication about various strategies that he had learned in his time in the field, still pushing against the restraints of age and retirement that the elder Osorsen was still not handling well. At least he knew that in his absence the old general was being cared for.
Mayet had been given the keeping of the household in his absence, something he knew the old man she was stuck with didn't mind in the least. Ever since she had become a permanent fixture his grandfather had become more fond of the woman thanks to her efficiency and ability to handle the entirety of the staff, and a few other little touches that would never be admitted. Osorsen the elder would never admit to enjoying the new way the sitting room was arranged so that his preferred chair was angled just so to avoid the evening sun in his eyes while allowing him the best view, or that his favorite treats were made available, or that his evening tea was served at exactly the same time every night. It was little things like that which made it easier to leave his little family and home behind ever since he had first gone to war without his grandfather and mentor.
His men were boisterous as they unloaded themselves and their stock at the docks, all of them were eager to get home to their families or to the nearest tavern with their earnings from the campaign. Oso though was most eager to finish his tasks not so he could venture out on the town, but to see how well he had done in his choice of gift for Mayet. Giving his final orders at last, the general retired to the saraaya, greeting his staff cheerfully enough and nodding at the news that his grandfather had already retired and would greet him properly in the morning. He patted the cats on the head as they milled about his feet with their chirps before crossing the threshold and breaking into a smile at the sight of her.
"Mayet, come see what I have for you."
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May 20, 2020 20:41:21 GMT
Posted In honey im home on May 20, 2020 20:41:21 GMT
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To say he was thrilled to be home was an understatement. The campaign that had seen him in the far southern desert for nearly three months had been challenging, pushing him further as a leader and a man than he had been since the conflict with the Greeks. His grandfather remaining at home sent him frequent communication about various strategies that he had learned in his time in the field, still pushing against the restraints of age and retirement that the elder Osorsen was still not handling well. At least he knew that in his absence the old general was being cared for.
Mayet had been given the keeping of the household in his absence, something he knew the old man she was stuck with didn't mind in the least. Ever since she had become a permanent fixture his grandfather had become more fond of the woman thanks to her efficiency and ability to handle the entirety of the staff, and a few other little touches that would never be admitted. Osorsen the elder would never admit to enjoying the new way the sitting room was arranged so that his preferred chair was angled just so to avoid the evening sun in his eyes while allowing him the best view, or that his favorite treats were made available, or that his evening tea was served at exactly the same time every night. It was little things like that which made it easier to leave his little family and home behind ever since he had first gone to war without his grandfather and mentor.
His men were boisterous as they unloaded themselves and their stock at the docks, all of them were eager to get home to their families or to the nearest tavern with their earnings from the campaign. Oso though was most eager to finish his tasks not so he could venture out on the town, but to see how well he had done in his choice of gift for Mayet. Giving his final orders at last, the general retired to the saraaya, greeting his staff cheerfully enough and nodding at the news that his grandfather had already retired and would greet him properly in the morning. He patted the cats on the head as they milled about his feet with their chirps before crossing the threshold and breaking into a smile at the sight of her.
"Mayet, come see what I have for you."
To say he was thrilled to be home was an understatement. The campaign that had seen him in the far southern desert for nearly three months had been challenging, pushing him further as a leader and a man than he had been since the conflict with the Greeks. His grandfather remaining at home sent him frequent communication about various strategies that he had learned in his time in the field, still pushing against the restraints of age and retirement that the elder Osorsen was still not handling well. At least he knew that in his absence the old general was being cared for.
Mayet had been given the keeping of the household in his absence, something he knew the old man she was stuck with didn't mind in the least. Ever since she had become a permanent fixture his grandfather had become more fond of the woman thanks to her efficiency and ability to handle the entirety of the staff, and a few other little touches that would never be admitted. Osorsen the elder would never admit to enjoying the new way the sitting room was arranged so that his preferred chair was angled just so to avoid the evening sun in his eyes while allowing him the best view, or that his favorite treats were made available, or that his evening tea was served at exactly the same time every night. It was little things like that which made it easier to leave his little family and home behind ever since he had first gone to war without his grandfather and mentor.
His men were boisterous as they unloaded themselves and their stock at the docks, all of them were eager to get home to their families or to the nearest tavern with their earnings from the campaign. Oso though was most eager to finish his tasks not so he could venture out on the town, but to see how well he had done in his choice of gift for Mayet. Giving his final orders at last, the general retired to the saraaya, greeting his staff cheerfully enough and nodding at the news that his grandfather had already retired and would greet him properly in the morning. He patted the cats on the head as they milled about his feet with their chirps before crossing the threshold and breaking into a smile at the sight of her.
"Mayet, come see what I have for you."
It was always a strange feeling, knowing that Oso was to return. Relief, because whatever tore him from her arms was dangerous: Mayet knew this, had always known this. He was a warrior, a fighter before anything, it was what made him great. Longing, because she missed him every day he was gone from her, and the bed was cold and empty without his warmth to fill it. It had been one of the things she had come to learn quickly - silk sheets and fine linens did not stave off loneliness. Apprehension, because Osorsen was a complicated man, and often when he returned from his efforts away, it was with a surly temper and weary mind. Like welcoming a feral cat into one's arms, never knowing if you were going to be scratched for your troubles.
Mayet felt all of these things. From the day the missive arrived heralding the man’s return, and every day until he was there, solid and in front of her, undeniable and alive.
She had already instructed the cook to prepare his favourite meals and had seen to it that the servants were not lax in their duties. Oso would have no cause for complaint when he returned to the saraaya.
For herself, Mayet had taken even more exacting care over her appearance than she did on any given day. She did not bring wealth or status with her when she came into Oso’s house. She didn’t have a fancy name to boast or some rich Papa with land that would be useful to an ambitious man. What she brought, what had paved her way out of Obsor was her beauty, her body. That was the gift she could give her to her soldier as he returned.
Already flawless bronze skin was sloughed with salt, sugared smooth and then submerged in a decadent milk bath, enriched with honey. Almond oil left a glossy sheen and the rich deep perfumes of frankincense and myrrh that it was steeped with. Mayet bound her hair into a single long plait and threaded small beads into the lengths as she went. She could have had a servant do it, but it was part of her ritual, part of how she readied herself to receive her lover. For Oso.
The sound of his arrival carried through the saraaya to the bedchamber, and Mayet stood, not hurrying. She would not be that cloying, desperate girl standing at the door for a glimpse of him. She was not his wife, she could not be that. Instead, the young woman took a deep breath to still the butterflies in her stomach and made her way to greet Osorsen, the sound of her name falling from his lips bringing a smile to her own.
Stepping forward to meet him, her arms lifted to wrap around the breadth of his shoulders, a brief, deliberately enticing press of her body against his before she had moved back. Dark eyes, accented with sooty sweeps of kohl took a subtle inventory of him, looking for new scars or signs that he had been hurt. His letters would say one thing, but she would never truly believe it until she could see it for herself. She resisted the urge to run her hands over every inch of him. Later, that would come.
“A success then?” she said in response to his words, gauging his mood and finding it pleasingly buoyant. Still, she drew him into the manor, seeing him sat in an ornate chair. She draped herself across the arm of it and let her fingers wrap around the back of his neck. A sharp glance toward the serving girls had Oso furnished with wine before Mayet turned to him again. “Show me what treasures you have won, ibib”
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May 20, 2020 23:42:07 GMT
Posted In honey im home on May 20, 2020 23:42:07 GMT
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It was always a strange feeling, knowing that Oso was to return. Relief, because whatever tore him from her arms was dangerous: Mayet knew this, had always known this. He was a warrior, a fighter before anything, it was what made him great. Longing, because she missed him every day he was gone from her, and the bed was cold and empty without his warmth to fill it. It had been one of the things she had come to learn quickly - silk sheets and fine linens did not stave off loneliness. Apprehension, because Osorsen was a complicated man, and often when he returned from his efforts away, it was with a surly temper and weary mind. Like welcoming a feral cat into one's arms, never knowing if you were going to be scratched for your troubles.
Mayet felt all of these things. From the day the missive arrived heralding the man’s return, and every day until he was there, solid and in front of her, undeniable and alive.
She had already instructed the cook to prepare his favourite meals and had seen to it that the servants were not lax in their duties. Oso would have no cause for complaint when he returned to the saraaya.
For herself, Mayet had taken even more exacting care over her appearance than she did on any given day. She did not bring wealth or status with her when she came into Oso’s house. She didn’t have a fancy name to boast or some rich Papa with land that would be useful to an ambitious man. What she brought, what had paved her way out of Obsor was her beauty, her body. That was the gift she could give her to her soldier as he returned.
Already flawless bronze skin was sloughed with salt, sugared smooth and then submerged in a decadent milk bath, enriched with honey. Almond oil left a glossy sheen and the rich deep perfumes of frankincense and myrrh that it was steeped with. Mayet bound her hair into a single long plait and threaded small beads into the lengths as she went. She could have had a servant do it, but it was part of her ritual, part of how she readied herself to receive her lover. For Oso.
The sound of his arrival carried through the saraaya to the bedchamber, and Mayet stood, not hurrying. She would not be that cloying, desperate girl standing at the door for a glimpse of him. She was not his wife, she could not be that. Instead, the young woman took a deep breath to still the butterflies in her stomach and made her way to greet Osorsen, the sound of her name falling from his lips bringing a smile to her own.
Stepping forward to meet him, her arms lifted to wrap around the breadth of his shoulders, a brief, deliberately enticing press of her body against his before she had moved back. Dark eyes, accented with sooty sweeps of kohl took a subtle inventory of him, looking for new scars or signs that he had been hurt. His letters would say one thing, but she would never truly believe it until she could see it for herself. She resisted the urge to run her hands over every inch of him. Later, that would come.
“A success then?” she said in response to his words, gauging his mood and finding it pleasingly buoyant. Still, she drew him into the manor, seeing him sat in an ornate chair. She draped herself across the arm of it and let her fingers wrap around the back of his neck. A sharp glance toward the serving girls had Oso furnished with wine before Mayet turned to him again. “Show me what treasures you have won, ibib”
It was always a strange feeling, knowing that Oso was to return. Relief, because whatever tore him from her arms was dangerous: Mayet knew this, had always known this. He was a warrior, a fighter before anything, it was what made him great. Longing, because she missed him every day he was gone from her, and the bed was cold and empty without his warmth to fill it. It had been one of the things she had come to learn quickly - silk sheets and fine linens did not stave off loneliness. Apprehension, because Osorsen was a complicated man, and often when he returned from his efforts away, it was with a surly temper and weary mind. Like welcoming a feral cat into one's arms, never knowing if you were going to be scratched for your troubles.
Mayet felt all of these things. From the day the missive arrived heralding the man’s return, and every day until he was there, solid and in front of her, undeniable and alive.
She had already instructed the cook to prepare his favourite meals and had seen to it that the servants were not lax in their duties. Oso would have no cause for complaint when he returned to the saraaya.
For herself, Mayet had taken even more exacting care over her appearance than she did on any given day. She did not bring wealth or status with her when she came into Oso’s house. She didn’t have a fancy name to boast or some rich Papa with land that would be useful to an ambitious man. What she brought, what had paved her way out of Obsor was her beauty, her body. That was the gift she could give her to her soldier as he returned.
Already flawless bronze skin was sloughed with salt, sugared smooth and then submerged in a decadent milk bath, enriched with honey. Almond oil left a glossy sheen and the rich deep perfumes of frankincense and myrrh that it was steeped with. Mayet bound her hair into a single long plait and threaded small beads into the lengths as she went. She could have had a servant do it, but it was part of her ritual, part of how she readied herself to receive her lover. For Oso.
The sound of his arrival carried through the saraaya to the bedchamber, and Mayet stood, not hurrying. She would not be that cloying, desperate girl standing at the door for a glimpse of him. She was not his wife, she could not be that. Instead, the young woman took a deep breath to still the butterflies in her stomach and made her way to greet Osorsen, the sound of her name falling from his lips bringing a smile to her own.
Stepping forward to meet him, her arms lifted to wrap around the breadth of his shoulders, a brief, deliberately enticing press of her body against his before she had moved back. Dark eyes, accented with sooty sweeps of kohl took a subtle inventory of him, looking for new scars or signs that he had been hurt. His letters would say one thing, but she would never truly believe it until she could see it for herself. She resisted the urge to run her hands over every inch of him. Later, that would come.
“A success then?” she said in response to his words, gauging his mood and finding it pleasingly buoyant. Still, she drew him into the manor, seeing him sat in an ornate chair. She draped herself across the arm of it and let her fingers wrap around the back of his neck. A sharp glance toward the serving girls had Oso furnished with wine before Mayet turned to him again. “Show me what treasures you have won, ibib”
There was something about the sight of her that made everything right, his cares brushed away by the way her skin gleamed in the light, the oils and perfumes that she used giving him breath. It was a mixture he had come to associate with her, and as she wrapped her arms around him he was thrilled to get lost in it once again. His face pressed to the curve of her neck as he held her close, not willing to release her for a long moment as he allowed the feeling of home to wash over him. Only once he'd taken his own inventory did he allow her to move away.
"Very much. We should see a long stretch of peace before they think to become trouble again."
Noting the way her gaze swept over him, he sighed as if long suffering and gave a smile, lifting his arm to gesture to a shallow wound along his shoulder blade where an opponent's sword had glanced off him, and then down to his thigh where a bruise and small scabbed mark were all that remained of an arrowhead attempting to bring him down. The speed and strength of his horses had kept him safe and alive, along with the men he commanded and the quick wit of their army. No doubt she would have her fuss at him later, but for now he wanted simply to be with her.
Sinking into the chair and pulling her close once more, Oso ran calloused hands along smooth skin, forehead leaning against her shoulder, closing his eyes until the soft sound of the serving girl bringing wine drew him back to reality. He'd almost forgotten the gifts he'd brought back at the sight of her, but now with the reminder he grinned and waved for another slave to bring over the covered pillow that held the prizes he'd chosen for her. Laid along the length was a woven gold chain with drops of gold set with rubies atop that on every other drop encircled a light green stone. A gold ring with rubies clustered about its surface sat in the center, and coiled around that was a thick collar of sorts, gold set with green, blue, and red gems that formed waving patterns as one moved around it.
"There is more for you to choose from if you wish, but I thought these might suit your tastes."
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May 30, 2020 13:32:47 GMT
Posted In honey im home on May 30, 2020 13:32:47 GMT
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There was something about the sight of her that made everything right, his cares brushed away by the way her skin gleamed in the light, the oils and perfumes that she used giving him breath. It was a mixture he had come to associate with her, and as she wrapped her arms around him he was thrilled to get lost in it once again. His face pressed to the curve of her neck as he held her close, not willing to release her for a long moment as he allowed the feeling of home to wash over him. Only once he'd taken his own inventory did he allow her to move away.
"Very much. We should see a long stretch of peace before they think to become trouble again."
Noting the way her gaze swept over him, he sighed as if long suffering and gave a smile, lifting his arm to gesture to a shallow wound along his shoulder blade where an opponent's sword had glanced off him, and then down to his thigh where a bruise and small scabbed mark were all that remained of an arrowhead attempting to bring him down. The speed and strength of his horses had kept him safe and alive, along with the men he commanded and the quick wit of their army. No doubt she would have her fuss at him later, but for now he wanted simply to be with her.
Sinking into the chair and pulling her close once more, Oso ran calloused hands along smooth skin, forehead leaning against her shoulder, closing his eyes until the soft sound of the serving girl bringing wine drew him back to reality. He'd almost forgotten the gifts he'd brought back at the sight of her, but now with the reminder he grinned and waved for another slave to bring over the covered pillow that held the prizes he'd chosen for her. Laid along the length was a woven gold chain with drops of gold set with rubies atop that on every other drop encircled a light green stone. A gold ring with rubies clustered about its surface sat in the center, and coiled around that was a thick collar of sorts, gold set with green, blue, and red gems that formed waving patterns as one moved around it.
"There is more for you to choose from if you wish, but I thought these might suit your tastes."
There was something about the sight of her that made everything right, his cares brushed away by the way her skin gleamed in the light, the oils and perfumes that she used giving him breath. It was a mixture he had come to associate with her, and as she wrapped her arms around him he was thrilled to get lost in it once again. His face pressed to the curve of her neck as he held her close, not willing to release her for a long moment as he allowed the feeling of home to wash over him. Only once he'd taken his own inventory did he allow her to move away.
"Very much. We should see a long stretch of peace before they think to become trouble again."
Noting the way her gaze swept over him, he sighed as if long suffering and gave a smile, lifting his arm to gesture to a shallow wound along his shoulder blade where an opponent's sword had glanced off him, and then down to his thigh where a bruise and small scabbed mark were all that remained of an arrowhead attempting to bring him down. The speed and strength of his horses had kept him safe and alive, along with the men he commanded and the quick wit of their army. No doubt she would have her fuss at him later, but for now he wanted simply to be with her.
Sinking into the chair and pulling her close once more, Oso ran calloused hands along smooth skin, forehead leaning against her shoulder, closing his eyes until the soft sound of the serving girl bringing wine drew him back to reality. He'd almost forgotten the gifts he'd brought back at the sight of her, but now with the reminder he grinned and waved for another slave to bring over the covered pillow that held the prizes he'd chosen for her. Laid along the length was a woven gold chain with drops of gold set with rubies atop that on every other drop encircled a light green stone. A gold ring with rubies clustered about its surface sat in the center, and coiled around that was a thick collar of sorts, gold set with green, blue, and red gems that formed waving patterns as one moved around it.
"There is more for you to choose from if you wish, but I thought these might suit your tastes."
Mayet revelled in the strong, solid warmth of his body, vital power beneath her tracing fingers, and she felt something that had been wound tight about her heart release at the knowledge that he was truly here, and safe. Allowing herself a smile as he held her fast, there was resistance in the slender curves of her body as she moulded her herself to him. Welcome home.
“I hope that it is so” she answered to his talk of a lengthy peace, though she knew he would come restless again if that were the case. The comforts of home could not quiet the fire of his ambition, and that would take him away from her again before long. It was the way of it, and no amount of foolish wishing or prayers would help, so Mayet did not allow herself such indulgences. Let him just be happy whilst he was here.
So it was that the girl from Obsor felt her own temper grow sharp in the days before his return for everything should be perfect, and the slaves knew it too: they were quick to bring wine to their Master and equally fast to shrink away once it was given, Mayet guarding her lover like a cat with a kill. Mine
She curved around him where he sat in the chair, an arm about his neck, the long length of her leg pressed against him wherever there was space. His hands, warm and roughened with the stories they had to tell were a welcome distraction. After all, she was all for him. Letting he fingers creep into the thick dark hair atop his head, she let her nails scrape lightly against his scalp, kneading away tension and tugging ever so gently at the strands.
When they returned to the bed-chamber, she would stretch him out and attend to every inch of him just so, but until then had to satisfy herself with these little efforts to help him unwind and settle back into the version of him that she treasured most. And true to their little ritual, he would present to her the spoils of his efforts. Her smile was wide as a servant brought forward his offerings this time, Mayet’s pleasure at his choices evident enough to see.
“Beautiful,” she said softly, removing her hand from his hair to reach instead for the necklace which she slipped into place deftly, unknotting the gauzy fabric of her gown so it pooled around her waist and left the gold and jewels as the only adornment to her upper body. “Let me wear them for you so you might be reminded of your triumph whenever you look upon them, ibib.”
The gems and precious metal gleamed softly in the light cast by the lanterns that surrounded them, their luminosity only enhanced by the supple expanse of skin that they sat upon, and Mayet knew it. She shifted to straddle Oso’s legs, placing her hands either side of his face and smoothing away the lines of fatigue she could see. “What will you have, my love. Are you hungry? Weary? How can I ease you?”
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May 31, 2020 12:32:39 GMT
Posted In honey im home on May 31, 2020 12:32:39 GMT
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Mayet revelled in the strong, solid warmth of his body, vital power beneath her tracing fingers, and she felt something that had been wound tight about her heart release at the knowledge that he was truly here, and safe. Allowing herself a smile as he held her fast, there was resistance in the slender curves of her body as she moulded her herself to him. Welcome home.
“I hope that it is so” she answered to his talk of a lengthy peace, though she knew he would come restless again if that were the case. The comforts of home could not quiet the fire of his ambition, and that would take him away from her again before long. It was the way of it, and no amount of foolish wishing or prayers would help, so Mayet did not allow herself such indulgences. Let him just be happy whilst he was here.
So it was that the girl from Obsor felt her own temper grow sharp in the days before his return for everything should be perfect, and the slaves knew it too: they were quick to bring wine to their Master and equally fast to shrink away once it was given, Mayet guarding her lover like a cat with a kill. Mine
She curved around him where he sat in the chair, an arm about his neck, the long length of her leg pressed against him wherever there was space. His hands, warm and roughened with the stories they had to tell were a welcome distraction. After all, she was all for him. Letting he fingers creep into the thick dark hair atop his head, she let her nails scrape lightly against his scalp, kneading away tension and tugging ever so gently at the strands.
When they returned to the bed-chamber, she would stretch him out and attend to every inch of him just so, but until then had to satisfy herself with these little efforts to help him unwind and settle back into the version of him that she treasured most. And true to their little ritual, he would present to her the spoils of his efforts. Her smile was wide as a servant brought forward his offerings this time, Mayet’s pleasure at his choices evident enough to see.
“Beautiful,” she said softly, removing her hand from his hair to reach instead for the necklace which she slipped into place deftly, unknotting the gauzy fabric of her gown so it pooled around her waist and left the gold and jewels as the only adornment to her upper body. “Let me wear them for you so you might be reminded of your triumph whenever you look upon them, ibib.”
The gems and precious metal gleamed softly in the light cast by the lanterns that surrounded them, their luminosity only enhanced by the supple expanse of skin that they sat upon, and Mayet knew it. She shifted to straddle Oso’s legs, placing her hands either side of his face and smoothing away the lines of fatigue she could see. “What will you have, my love. Are you hungry? Weary? How can I ease you?”
Mayet revelled in the strong, solid warmth of his body, vital power beneath her tracing fingers, and she felt something that had been wound tight about her heart release at the knowledge that he was truly here, and safe. Allowing herself a smile as he held her fast, there was resistance in the slender curves of her body as she moulded her herself to him. Welcome home.
“I hope that it is so” she answered to his talk of a lengthy peace, though she knew he would come restless again if that were the case. The comforts of home could not quiet the fire of his ambition, and that would take him away from her again before long. It was the way of it, and no amount of foolish wishing or prayers would help, so Mayet did not allow herself such indulgences. Let him just be happy whilst he was here.
So it was that the girl from Obsor felt her own temper grow sharp in the days before his return for everything should be perfect, and the slaves knew it too: they were quick to bring wine to their Master and equally fast to shrink away once it was given, Mayet guarding her lover like a cat with a kill. Mine
She curved around him where he sat in the chair, an arm about his neck, the long length of her leg pressed against him wherever there was space. His hands, warm and roughened with the stories they had to tell were a welcome distraction. After all, she was all for him. Letting he fingers creep into the thick dark hair atop his head, she let her nails scrape lightly against his scalp, kneading away tension and tugging ever so gently at the strands.
When they returned to the bed-chamber, she would stretch him out and attend to every inch of him just so, but until then had to satisfy herself with these little efforts to help him unwind and settle back into the version of him that she treasured most. And true to their little ritual, he would present to her the spoils of his efforts. Her smile was wide as a servant brought forward his offerings this time, Mayet’s pleasure at his choices evident enough to see.
“Beautiful,” she said softly, removing her hand from his hair to reach instead for the necklace which she slipped into place deftly, unknotting the gauzy fabric of her gown so it pooled around her waist and left the gold and jewels as the only adornment to her upper body. “Let me wear them for you so you might be reminded of your triumph whenever you look upon them, ibib.”
The gems and precious metal gleamed softly in the light cast by the lanterns that surrounded them, their luminosity only enhanced by the supple expanse of skin that they sat upon, and Mayet knew it. She shifted to straddle Oso’s legs, placing her hands either side of his face and smoothing away the lines of fatigue she could see. “What will you have, my love. Are you hungry? Weary? How can I ease you?”
"The council should see no reason to send me away from you any time soon. Perhaps we could hope to be undisturbed until our little queen has whims of her own to send me on."
The wine on his lips was his favorite, of course it was. Mayet was impeccable when it came to running a household and ensuring that everything was done to his specifications. Though he would never voice such a thing out loud, he wondered if perhaps over time his grandfather would see how well suited she was to this life and give his blessing for their marriage after all. He could see the grudging respect the older man held for his mistress, when the younger Osorsen was away the elder had his own staff, but the running of things all came down to Mayet's direction. There was a not so subtle pride in how clever and well suited to this life she was, despite not coming from noble roots.
Her hand in his hair was soothing, something he missed in the lonely nights on the road of the campaign. It was an aching sort of emptiness, the simplest touch the one thing he clung to for the most comfort, being like this now solidified that he was finally home. Watching with pride as she picked up the piece he liked the best, he drank deeply from his goblet before setting it aside as she shifted in his lap. Now was the time to admire his handiwork and congratulate himself on his victories, both on the battlefield and in efforts to please his lover.
Gold gleamed against her sun kissed skin and the gems looked as if they were at home on her breast, like they were always meant to linger there and give that shine to her. The soft sound of the fabric falling and pooling was a welcome one that send a shiver of anticipation along his spine. Without the top of her gown she looked like one of the goddesses come down to linger with him. How he had been blessed with such a beauty he would never know, but she was something precious, beyond all others.
"They are yours, as is anything else you wish from the trove." Oso barely managed the words in an eloquent fashion as her touch calmed and soothed his brow. He didn't notice the tension he held in his face until she began to smooth out the lines of stress and exhaustion, eyes closing as he tipped his chin up for her. Without opening his eyes he smiled at her question, hands tracing slowly along her now bare sides as he pulled her closer against him.
"You ease me just by being near,akhet. Tell me of how things have been here, and we can linger in the room tonight. Perhaps with something light to eat." Hands resting on the small of her back traced slight patterns, eyes still closed as he leaned forward to press his lips to her throat. Tonight he would take his time, savor every act and moment to make up for time lost, ensure she knew just how much he had missed her.
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"The council should see no reason to send me away from you any time soon. Perhaps we could hope to be undisturbed until our little queen has whims of her own to send me on."
The wine on his lips was his favorite, of course it was. Mayet was impeccable when it came to running a household and ensuring that everything was done to his specifications. Though he would never voice such a thing out loud, he wondered if perhaps over time his grandfather would see how well suited she was to this life and give his blessing for their marriage after all. He could see the grudging respect the older man held for his mistress, when the younger Osorsen was away the elder had his own staff, but the running of things all came down to Mayet's direction. There was a not so subtle pride in how clever and well suited to this life she was, despite not coming from noble roots.
Her hand in his hair was soothing, something he missed in the lonely nights on the road of the campaign. It was an aching sort of emptiness, the simplest touch the one thing he clung to for the most comfort, being like this now solidified that he was finally home. Watching with pride as she picked up the piece he liked the best, he drank deeply from his goblet before setting it aside as she shifted in his lap. Now was the time to admire his handiwork and congratulate himself on his victories, both on the battlefield and in efforts to please his lover.
Gold gleamed against her sun kissed skin and the gems looked as if they were at home on her breast, like they were always meant to linger there and give that shine to her. The soft sound of the fabric falling and pooling was a welcome one that send a shiver of anticipation along his spine. Without the top of her gown she looked like one of the goddesses come down to linger with him. How he had been blessed with such a beauty he would never know, but she was something precious, beyond all others.
"They are yours, as is anything else you wish from the trove." Oso barely managed the words in an eloquent fashion as her touch calmed and soothed his brow. He didn't notice the tension he held in his face until she began to smooth out the lines of stress and exhaustion, eyes closing as he tipped his chin up for her. Without opening his eyes he smiled at her question, hands tracing slowly along her now bare sides as he pulled her closer against him.
"You ease me just by being near,akhet. Tell me of how things have been here, and we can linger in the room tonight. Perhaps with something light to eat." Hands resting on the small of her back traced slight patterns, eyes still closed as he leaned forward to press his lips to her throat. Tonight he would take his time, savor every act and moment to make up for time lost, ensure she knew just how much he had missed her.
"The council should see no reason to send me away from you any time soon. Perhaps we could hope to be undisturbed until our little queen has whims of her own to send me on."
The wine on his lips was his favorite, of course it was. Mayet was impeccable when it came to running a household and ensuring that everything was done to his specifications. Though he would never voice such a thing out loud, he wondered if perhaps over time his grandfather would see how well suited she was to this life and give his blessing for their marriage after all. He could see the grudging respect the older man held for his mistress, when the younger Osorsen was away the elder had his own staff, but the running of things all came down to Mayet's direction. There was a not so subtle pride in how clever and well suited to this life she was, despite not coming from noble roots.
Her hand in his hair was soothing, something he missed in the lonely nights on the road of the campaign. It was an aching sort of emptiness, the simplest touch the one thing he clung to for the most comfort, being like this now solidified that he was finally home. Watching with pride as she picked up the piece he liked the best, he drank deeply from his goblet before setting it aside as she shifted in his lap. Now was the time to admire his handiwork and congratulate himself on his victories, both on the battlefield and in efforts to please his lover.
Gold gleamed against her sun kissed skin and the gems looked as if they were at home on her breast, like they were always meant to linger there and give that shine to her. The soft sound of the fabric falling and pooling was a welcome one that send a shiver of anticipation along his spine. Without the top of her gown she looked like one of the goddesses come down to linger with him. How he had been blessed with such a beauty he would never know, but she was something precious, beyond all others.
"They are yours, as is anything else you wish from the trove." Oso barely managed the words in an eloquent fashion as her touch calmed and soothed his brow. He didn't notice the tension he held in his face until she began to smooth out the lines of stress and exhaustion, eyes closing as he tipped his chin up for her. Without opening his eyes he smiled at her question, hands tracing slowly along her now bare sides as he pulled her closer against him.
"You ease me just by being near,akhet. Tell me of how things have been here, and we can linger in the room tonight. Perhaps with something light to eat." Hands resting on the small of her back traced slight patterns, eyes still closed as he leaned forward to press his lips to her throat. Tonight he would take his time, savor every act and moment to make up for time lost, ensure she knew just how much he had missed her.
His words were like honey, but Mayet knew better than to be taken in by the sweet promise of having him home for any length of time. Disappointment was its own bitter taste and she would save herself from it if she could. Be glad of him whilst he was here, give him every motivation to stay but do not expect it.
Talk of the young Queen had her eyes tighten a little, her voice sharp when she replied " I do not like to think of you being sent away on the whims of a child" she observed "Let us hope she has more sense than years"
She was glad when he brought out the jewels, and she could wrap herself in the idea that he had brought them back for her, that she had been on his mind even when he was away.
She arched her back so that the gems and the curves of her body best caught the light, and she lifted a hand to run a finger over the gold wrapped stones. "I like knowing you have chosen them.” she responded when he spoke of selecting anything else she wanted from his trophies. “I wear them and feel close to you even when you are far from me.” As his face turned up toward her like he was leaning into the sun she smiled, pressed her body against him and kissed him, languid and unhurried, promises of what awaited him.
“Anything you wish,” she said and meant it. His homecomings had to be enough to sustain him when he was gone, and the more she could anchor him here, with her, the better. Sitting upright again, she traced her hands down over his shoulders, carefully edging that healing skin. Mayet tilted her head as she considered what she could tell him that he had missed, what would interest and yet not be a burden.
“ Well, let me see. We had a new cook. Your father despised his bread, complained it was like chewing camel hide, so he did not last long. Now we have a sweet woman who feeds him date pudding almost every day and he is content. There are more kittens if you did not trip over them when you came in, and there is a flashy horse across the town that deserves someone more powerful upon its back. Perhaps we will go and see it tomorrow.” She shifted her weight on his lap and laughed a little. “ No. Not tomorrow. The next day. When we get out of bed. I missed you, my bomani.”
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His words were like honey, but Mayet knew better than to be taken in by the sweet promise of having him home for any length of time. Disappointment was its own bitter taste and she would save herself from it if she could. Be glad of him whilst he was here, give him every motivation to stay but do not expect it.
Talk of the young Queen had her eyes tighten a little, her voice sharp when she replied " I do not like to think of you being sent away on the whims of a child" she observed "Let us hope she has more sense than years"
She was glad when he brought out the jewels, and she could wrap herself in the idea that he had brought them back for her, that she had been on his mind even when he was away.
She arched her back so that the gems and the curves of her body best caught the light, and she lifted a hand to run a finger over the gold wrapped stones. "I like knowing you have chosen them.” she responded when he spoke of selecting anything else she wanted from his trophies. “I wear them and feel close to you even when you are far from me.” As his face turned up toward her like he was leaning into the sun she smiled, pressed her body against him and kissed him, languid and unhurried, promises of what awaited him.
“Anything you wish,” she said and meant it. His homecomings had to be enough to sustain him when he was gone, and the more she could anchor him here, with her, the better. Sitting upright again, she traced her hands down over his shoulders, carefully edging that healing skin. Mayet tilted her head as she considered what she could tell him that he had missed, what would interest and yet not be a burden.
“ Well, let me see. We had a new cook. Your father despised his bread, complained it was like chewing camel hide, so he did not last long. Now we have a sweet woman who feeds him date pudding almost every day and he is content. There are more kittens if you did not trip over them when you came in, and there is a flashy horse across the town that deserves someone more powerful upon its back. Perhaps we will go and see it tomorrow.” She shifted her weight on his lap and laughed a little. “ No. Not tomorrow. The next day. When we get out of bed. I missed you, my bomani.”
His words were like honey, but Mayet knew better than to be taken in by the sweet promise of having him home for any length of time. Disappointment was its own bitter taste and she would save herself from it if she could. Be glad of him whilst he was here, give him every motivation to stay but do not expect it.
Talk of the young Queen had her eyes tighten a little, her voice sharp when she replied " I do not like to think of you being sent away on the whims of a child" she observed "Let us hope she has more sense than years"
She was glad when he brought out the jewels, and she could wrap herself in the idea that he had brought them back for her, that she had been on his mind even when he was away.
She arched her back so that the gems and the curves of her body best caught the light, and she lifted a hand to run a finger over the gold wrapped stones. "I like knowing you have chosen them.” she responded when he spoke of selecting anything else she wanted from his trophies. “I wear them and feel close to you even when you are far from me.” As his face turned up toward her like he was leaning into the sun she smiled, pressed her body against him and kissed him, languid and unhurried, promises of what awaited him.
“Anything you wish,” she said and meant it. His homecomings had to be enough to sustain him when he was gone, and the more she could anchor him here, with her, the better. Sitting upright again, she traced her hands down over his shoulders, carefully edging that healing skin. Mayet tilted her head as she considered what she could tell him that he had missed, what would interest and yet not be a burden.
“ Well, let me see. We had a new cook. Your father despised his bread, complained it was like chewing camel hide, so he did not last long. Now we have a sweet woman who feeds him date pudding almost every day and he is content. There are more kittens if you did not trip over them when you came in, and there is a flashy horse across the town that deserves someone more powerful upon its back. Perhaps we will go and see it tomorrow.” She shifted her weight on his lap and laughed a little. “ No. Not tomorrow. The next day. When we get out of bed. I missed you, my bomani.”
"The whims that control me are not that of the child, but her mother. The counsel makes the decisions, prompted by Isetheperu I am sure, not Hatshepsut. She is still too young to have whims aside from asking me for another kitten." His smile was fond as he thought of the girl that would one day rule Egypt in her own right. He had served her father in his time but much of his career as a general had been under the young queen, fighting in her name instead of her sire's. It was a position he found himself in happily, the girl was charming and sweet and always wanted to hear his stories of far away places, innocent of the work being commissioned in her name.
Watching Mayet's delicate fingers brush against the gold and precious stones, he smiled with desire spreading slowly over his lips as the candles caught the light and reflected how she shone as brightly as any jewels he could adorn her with. Every time he went away and returned he was all the more blinded by her beauty and elegance, and a knot formed in his chest. He had asked his grandfather more times than he could count for permission to make her a legal wife instead of a mistress, more times than he would ever admit even to her. It had been determined that while she was a welcome member of the family, she was not the one that would be the mother of his heirs. Mother to bastards she could certainly be, but his legal children must be come from a noble alliance. He could see no difference, no noble woman he had ever met could compare to Mayet in any way, their breeding might be more refined but that was the only advantage they offered him.
The question at the fore of his mind was whether or not he would be able to continue to obey his grandfather's wishes after he had passed. He supposed if a match was somehow procured, but he could never see a future in which he set her aside. She was his confidante, the one he trusted with the deepest secrets of his heart, control of his household, the only one he trusted to care for his grandfather in his absence. How anyone could ever match up to her was an impossible task for the woman who tried, and he felt pity for his future wife even as his hands could not stay off of the soft skin that was offered before him. No one could tempt him like Mayet.
Her kiss was the welcome home he had needed, arms slid around her hips as his fingers traced soft patterns against her exposed skin, his head tipped back against the chair his only sign of the exhaustion from the campaign. A laugh left him as she told the tale of the cook, a fond shake of his head at his grandfather's continued stubbornness and particular moods. No one had cause to wonder where Osorsen the younger got his temperament.
"You are too good to him. He grows more spoiled by the day." Dark eyes flashed in interest at the mention of the horse, but it was quickly forgotten by the promise of spending a day abed with her. That was infinitely more tempting. "I missed you..next campaign I'm taking you with me." There was a jest in his voice but he was half considering the idea, his lips trailing against hers as he spoke.
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Jun 18, 2020 16:14:06 GMT
Posted In honey im home on Jun 18, 2020 16:14:06 GMT
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"The whims that control me are not that of the child, but her mother. The counsel makes the decisions, prompted by Isetheperu I am sure, not Hatshepsut. She is still too young to have whims aside from asking me for another kitten." His smile was fond as he thought of the girl that would one day rule Egypt in her own right. He had served her father in his time but much of his career as a general had been under the young queen, fighting in her name instead of her sire's. It was a position he found himself in happily, the girl was charming and sweet and always wanted to hear his stories of far away places, innocent of the work being commissioned in her name.
Watching Mayet's delicate fingers brush against the gold and precious stones, he smiled with desire spreading slowly over his lips as the candles caught the light and reflected how she shone as brightly as any jewels he could adorn her with. Every time he went away and returned he was all the more blinded by her beauty and elegance, and a knot formed in his chest. He had asked his grandfather more times than he could count for permission to make her a legal wife instead of a mistress, more times than he would ever admit even to her. It had been determined that while she was a welcome member of the family, she was not the one that would be the mother of his heirs. Mother to bastards she could certainly be, but his legal children must be come from a noble alliance. He could see no difference, no noble woman he had ever met could compare to Mayet in any way, their breeding might be more refined but that was the only advantage they offered him.
The question at the fore of his mind was whether or not he would be able to continue to obey his grandfather's wishes after he had passed. He supposed if a match was somehow procured, but he could never see a future in which he set her aside. She was his confidante, the one he trusted with the deepest secrets of his heart, control of his household, the only one he trusted to care for his grandfather in his absence. How anyone could ever match up to her was an impossible task for the woman who tried, and he felt pity for his future wife even as his hands could not stay off of the soft skin that was offered before him. No one could tempt him like Mayet.
Her kiss was the welcome home he had needed, arms slid around her hips as his fingers traced soft patterns against her exposed skin, his head tipped back against the chair his only sign of the exhaustion from the campaign. A laugh left him as she told the tale of the cook, a fond shake of his head at his grandfather's continued stubbornness and particular moods. No one had cause to wonder where Osorsen the younger got his temperament.
"You are too good to him. He grows more spoiled by the day." Dark eyes flashed in interest at the mention of the horse, but it was quickly forgotten by the promise of spending a day abed with her. That was infinitely more tempting. "I missed you..next campaign I'm taking you with me." There was a jest in his voice but he was half considering the idea, his lips trailing against hers as he spoke.
"The whims that control me are not that of the child, but her mother. The counsel makes the decisions, prompted by Isetheperu I am sure, not Hatshepsut. She is still too young to have whims aside from asking me for another kitten." His smile was fond as he thought of the girl that would one day rule Egypt in her own right. He had served her father in his time but much of his career as a general had been under the young queen, fighting in her name instead of her sire's. It was a position he found himself in happily, the girl was charming and sweet and always wanted to hear his stories of far away places, innocent of the work being commissioned in her name.
Watching Mayet's delicate fingers brush against the gold and precious stones, he smiled with desire spreading slowly over his lips as the candles caught the light and reflected how she shone as brightly as any jewels he could adorn her with. Every time he went away and returned he was all the more blinded by her beauty and elegance, and a knot formed in his chest. He had asked his grandfather more times than he could count for permission to make her a legal wife instead of a mistress, more times than he would ever admit even to her. It had been determined that while she was a welcome member of the family, she was not the one that would be the mother of his heirs. Mother to bastards she could certainly be, but his legal children must be come from a noble alliance. He could see no difference, no noble woman he had ever met could compare to Mayet in any way, their breeding might be more refined but that was the only advantage they offered him.
The question at the fore of his mind was whether or not he would be able to continue to obey his grandfather's wishes after he had passed. He supposed if a match was somehow procured, but he could never see a future in which he set her aside. She was his confidante, the one he trusted with the deepest secrets of his heart, control of his household, the only one he trusted to care for his grandfather in his absence. How anyone could ever match up to her was an impossible task for the woman who tried, and he felt pity for his future wife even as his hands could not stay off of the soft skin that was offered before him. No one could tempt him like Mayet.
Her kiss was the welcome home he had needed, arms slid around her hips as his fingers traced soft patterns against her exposed skin, his head tipped back against the chair his only sign of the exhaustion from the campaign. A laugh left him as she told the tale of the cook, a fond shake of his head at his grandfather's continued stubbornness and particular moods. No one had cause to wonder where Osorsen the younger got his temperament.
"You are too good to him. He grows more spoiled by the day." Dark eyes flashed in interest at the mention of the horse, but it was quickly forgotten by the promise of spending a day abed with her. That was infinitely more tempting. "I missed you..next campaign I'm taking you with me." There was a jest in his voice but he was half considering the idea, his lips trailing against hers as he spoke.
Mayet did not press Oso on the intricacies of his work. She knew enough to be able to converse with him if he wished to, but it was not her place to look beyond that. Even so, with what little she knew, she would never be able to think fondly of those who drew him away from her so often. Making a vague humming noise as the man defended the princess, Mayet only responded with a dry “Well, we have plenty of kittens should you wish to indulge the girl”
She preferred it when his smile shifted from one of fondness for some child into one that spoke of a desire for her, and Mayet curved her back, to show off the jewels he bestowed, to show off the canvas she made for them. Welcoming the familiar touch of his hands, she tried not to be distracted by them as she recounted little stories of things that he had missed, words that would anchor him back where he was now and smooth away the troubles of war and blood.
She laughed at the notion she was too good to his grandfather. No fool, she knew well how much influence the elder Orsorsen had over the man she treasured, and so there was no such thing as doing too much for the old man. She could not help but hope that someday it would be enough and that he would look beyond her birth and grant Oso permission to make her his bride. It was a secret hope that she hid away and rarely looked at, but it was there all the same.
“He has lived a long life, he has earned a little comfort in his days now” she replied, stroking her hands down the breadth of his chest, letting her nails rake lightly over the tanned, taut skin. Silvery scars that she could count off, each of them one of his souvenirs from time spent away from her. Mayet bent forward to press a kiss over his heart, savouring the taste of his skin as she worked up towards his jaw. Meeting his mouth, there was a stifled laugh at his suggestion, and like a cat, she basked in the attention, even if his words were unlikely to mean anything.
“Or perhaps you will just stay here with me” she purred, drawing his hands up to cover her breasts and arching into the touch. Soft, supple flesh beneath his palms, his own treasure. She wanted nothing more than to be entirely selfish and steal him away for herself for as long as she was able.
“You must be tired of war now my love. Let us not speak of when we’ll next be parted when we have barely come back together again. I have been lonely”
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Jun 25, 2020 17:40:30 GMT
Posted In honey im home on Jun 25, 2020 17:40:30 GMT
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Mayet did not press Oso on the intricacies of his work. She knew enough to be able to converse with him if he wished to, but it was not her place to look beyond that. Even so, with what little she knew, she would never be able to think fondly of those who drew him away from her so often. Making a vague humming noise as the man defended the princess, Mayet only responded with a dry “Well, we have plenty of kittens should you wish to indulge the girl”
She preferred it when his smile shifted from one of fondness for some child into one that spoke of a desire for her, and Mayet curved her back, to show off the jewels he bestowed, to show off the canvas she made for them. Welcoming the familiar touch of his hands, she tried not to be distracted by them as she recounted little stories of things that he had missed, words that would anchor him back where he was now and smooth away the troubles of war and blood.
She laughed at the notion she was too good to his grandfather. No fool, she knew well how much influence the elder Orsorsen had over the man she treasured, and so there was no such thing as doing too much for the old man. She could not help but hope that someday it would be enough and that he would look beyond her birth and grant Oso permission to make her his bride. It was a secret hope that she hid away and rarely looked at, but it was there all the same.
“He has lived a long life, he has earned a little comfort in his days now” she replied, stroking her hands down the breadth of his chest, letting her nails rake lightly over the tanned, taut skin. Silvery scars that she could count off, each of them one of his souvenirs from time spent away from her. Mayet bent forward to press a kiss over his heart, savouring the taste of his skin as she worked up towards his jaw. Meeting his mouth, there was a stifled laugh at his suggestion, and like a cat, she basked in the attention, even if his words were unlikely to mean anything.
“Or perhaps you will just stay here with me” she purred, drawing his hands up to cover her breasts and arching into the touch. Soft, supple flesh beneath his palms, his own treasure. She wanted nothing more than to be entirely selfish and steal him away for herself for as long as she was able.
“You must be tired of war now my love. Let us not speak of when we’ll next be parted when we have barely come back together again. I have been lonely”
Mayet did not press Oso on the intricacies of his work. She knew enough to be able to converse with him if he wished to, but it was not her place to look beyond that. Even so, with what little she knew, she would never be able to think fondly of those who drew him away from her so often. Making a vague humming noise as the man defended the princess, Mayet only responded with a dry “Well, we have plenty of kittens should you wish to indulge the girl”
She preferred it when his smile shifted from one of fondness for some child into one that spoke of a desire for her, and Mayet curved her back, to show off the jewels he bestowed, to show off the canvas she made for them. Welcoming the familiar touch of his hands, she tried not to be distracted by them as she recounted little stories of things that he had missed, words that would anchor him back where he was now and smooth away the troubles of war and blood.
She laughed at the notion she was too good to his grandfather. No fool, she knew well how much influence the elder Orsorsen had over the man she treasured, and so there was no such thing as doing too much for the old man. She could not help but hope that someday it would be enough and that he would look beyond her birth and grant Oso permission to make her his bride. It was a secret hope that she hid away and rarely looked at, but it was there all the same.
“He has lived a long life, he has earned a little comfort in his days now” she replied, stroking her hands down the breadth of his chest, letting her nails rake lightly over the tanned, taut skin. Silvery scars that she could count off, each of them one of his souvenirs from time spent away from her. Mayet bent forward to press a kiss over his heart, savouring the taste of his skin as she worked up towards his jaw. Meeting his mouth, there was a stifled laugh at his suggestion, and like a cat, she basked in the attention, even if his words were unlikely to mean anything.
“Or perhaps you will just stay here with me” she purred, drawing his hands up to cover her breasts and arching into the touch. Soft, supple flesh beneath his palms, his own treasure. She wanted nothing more than to be entirely selfish and steal him away for herself for as long as she was able.
“You must be tired of war now my love. Let us not speak of when we’ll next be parted when we have barely come back together again. I have been lonely”
If Oso had known the depth of her wish to become his bride he would have been able to reassure her that though he was prevented from it due to his grandfather's wishes, he desired the very same. He had asked the older man time and time again, ever since before she had come to live with them if he could make her his wife. He pointed to the various qualities she had, the beauty and grace and skill with which she managed the house over the years. He had tried making the argument that with a bride of common birth in the H'Moghadam house, they would win over the people even more.
Everyone loved the story, the fairy tale of the poor beauty raised to power and wealth. They could become beloved of the people who mattered most, not the stifling requirements of court and tradition. In his life he had always been a man not over fond of the traditions of court, he despised wearing wigs and much preferred his own in any case. When it came to how he lived his life, on the move from one campaign to the next with no time to primp as the other noble men seemed to love, he'd found it was simply easier to deal with the shock and whispers around his unfashionable appearance.
The stories Mayet told were enchanting as always, but though her voice was sweet as honey he could not draw his focus from the way the treasures gleamed against her skin. She was flawless, almost divine like this, and though he was a man who lacked little in confidence, there was still a sort of smug awe that she had chosen him. Her fingers brushing along his chest seemed to unwind the stress held within, and as her lips followed the path back to his jaw he closed his eyes in surrender to the only person he could allow himself to.
"Perhaps...one day war will cease, and then you will be begging me to leave you in peace." Oso gave a low chuckle as his hands held the weight of her breasts reverently, and he sighed in contentment as he laid his forehead against her chest. He would happily suffocate in the scent of her as he breathed in the feeling of home. A hum of desire was his response to her complaint of having been lonely, arms wrapped around her waist to draw her closer still as his mouth sought out the achingly familiar shape of her chest, taking his time to re-learn every soft curve and rise with lips and tongue.
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If Oso had known the depth of her wish to become his bride he would have been able to reassure her that though he was prevented from it due to his grandfather's wishes, he desired the very same. He had asked the older man time and time again, ever since before she had come to live with them if he could make her his wife. He pointed to the various qualities she had, the beauty and grace and skill with which she managed the house over the years. He had tried making the argument that with a bride of common birth in the H'Moghadam house, they would win over the people even more.
Everyone loved the story, the fairy tale of the poor beauty raised to power and wealth. They could become beloved of the people who mattered most, not the stifling requirements of court and tradition. In his life he had always been a man not over fond of the traditions of court, he despised wearing wigs and much preferred his own in any case. When it came to how he lived his life, on the move from one campaign to the next with no time to primp as the other noble men seemed to love, he'd found it was simply easier to deal with the shock and whispers around his unfashionable appearance.
The stories Mayet told were enchanting as always, but though her voice was sweet as honey he could not draw his focus from the way the treasures gleamed against her skin. She was flawless, almost divine like this, and though he was a man who lacked little in confidence, there was still a sort of smug awe that she had chosen him. Her fingers brushing along his chest seemed to unwind the stress held within, and as her lips followed the path back to his jaw he closed his eyes in surrender to the only person he could allow himself to.
"Perhaps...one day war will cease, and then you will be begging me to leave you in peace." Oso gave a low chuckle as his hands held the weight of her breasts reverently, and he sighed in contentment as he laid his forehead against her chest. He would happily suffocate in the scent of her as he breathed in the feeling of home. A hum of desire was his response to her complaint of having been lonely, arms wrapped around her waist to draw her closer still as his mouth sought out the achingly familiar shape of her chest, taking his time to re-learn every soft curve and rise with lips and tongue.
If Oso had known the depth of her wish to become his bride he would have been able to reassure her that though he was prevented from it due to his grandfather's wishes, he desired the very same. He had asked the older man time and time again, ever since before she had come to live with them if he could make her his wife. He pointed to the various qualities she had, the beauty and grace and skill with which she managed the house over the years. He had tried making the argument that with a bride of common birth in the H'Moghadam house, they would win over the people even more.
Everyone loved the story, the fairy tale of the poor beauty raised to power and wealth. They could become beloved of the people who mattered most, not the stifling requirements of court and tradition. In his life he had always been a man not over fond of the traditions of court, he despised wearing wigs and much preferred his own in any case. When it came to how he lived his life, on the move from one campaign to the next with no time to primp as the other noble men seemed to love, he'd found it was simply easier to deal with the shock and whispers around his unfashionable appearance.
The stories Mayet told were enchanting as always, but though her voice was sweet as honey he could not draw his focus from the way the treasures gleamed against her skin. She was flawless, almost divine like this, and though he was a man who lacked little in confidence, there was still a sort of smug awe that she had chosen him. Her fingers brushing along his chest seemed to unwind the stress held within, and as her lips followed the path back to his jaw he closed his eyes in surrender to the only person he could allow himself to.
"Perhaps...one day war will cease, and then you will be begging me to leave you in peace." Oso gave a low chuckle as his hands held the weight of her breasts reverently, and he sighed in contentment as he laid his forehead against her chest. He would happily suffocate in the scent of her as he breathed in the feeling of home. A hum of desire was his response to her complaint of having been lonely, arms wrapped around her waist to draw her closer still as his mouth sought out the achingly familiar shape of her chest, taking his time to re-learn every soft curve and rise with lips and tongue.
The notion of having Oso safe and home should have filled her with wonder, and his lips trailed across her skin, for some part it did. How she would love to have him home always, to see the strain and stress that always sat upon his brow when he returned from a war gone forever. She could wish for that.
And yet, even as she arched into his touch and the warmth of his mouth, there was a cold thrill that ran down her spine. If he were home more then some marriage to a woman of noble birth would surely come that much sooner. And whilst Mayet did not doubt in Osorsen’s love for her, for he wore it as freely as the scars that he had collected over the years, she did not relish becoming second fiddle to some jumped- up woman who would never understand the man like she did.
“Perhaps one day the stars will stop shining too, ibib” Mayet let her fingers tangle in the thick black of his hair, held his mouth to her and relished in his affection. He was like the sun, radiating warmth and fire and passion, and when he was near she could not help but turn toward him, basking in the light that had been withheld from her when he was away fighting and winning against their enemies. This time was hers though, and she would not waste imagining a world where she would not want him near, always.
Gently, she slipped her fingers beneath his jaw and tilted his head up, kissing and nipping at his lips with her teeth. “Come to bed, let me tend to you and I will have food brought afterwards. Surely your body must crave something soft to lay upon after so long?”
She shimmied off his lap, let her gown fall into a puddle at his feet so every tawny inch of her was laid bare to his eyes and then tugged on his hand, urging him to his feet so she might lead him through the house to the bedchamber that had been so lonely in his absence.
The slaves kept their eyes down as the couple passed, though the cats were not so standoffish, weaving about Mayet’s bare legs and mewling for their master’s attention. They were perhaps her biggest rivals for Oso’s attention at this point, but Mayet would not be dissuaded.
Already the bedchamber was lit golden and low by lanterns, and fragranced with susinum, the spice and floral perfume that Mayet had become so attached to after Oso had brought some back to her on one of his campaigns. Turning to him, her hands were quick and nimble as they sought to divest him of his garments, to encourage him onto the wide wooden bed and the linens she’d had it dressed in that very day. He deserved comfort now more than ever.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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The notion of having Oso safe and home should have filled her with wonder, and his lips trailed across her skin, for some part it did. How she would love to have him home always, to see the strain and stress that always sat upon his brow when he returned from a war gone forever. She could wish for that.
And yet, even as she arched into his touch and the warmth of his mouth, there was a cold thrill that ran down her spine. If he were home more then some marriage to a woman of noble birth would surely come that much sooner. And whilst Mayet did not doubt in Osorsen’s love for her, for he wore it as freely as the scars that he had collected over the years, she did not relish becoming second fiddle to some jumped- up woman who would never understand the man like she did.
“Perhaps one day the stars will stop shining too, ibib” Mayet let her fingers tangle in the thick black of his hair, held his mouth to her and relished in his affection. He was like the sun, radiating warmth and fire and passion, and when he was near she could not help but turn toward him, basking in the light that had been withheld from her when he was away fighting and winning against their enemies. This time was hers though, and she would not waste imagining a world where she would not want him near, always.
Gently, she slipped her fingers beneath his jaw and tilted his head up, kissing and nipping at his lips with her teeth. “Come to bed, let me tend to you and I will have food brought afterwards. Surely your body must crave something soft to lay upon after so long?”
She shimmied off his lap, let her gown fall into a puddle at his feet so every tawny inch of her was laid bare to his eyes and then tugged on his hand, urging him to his feet so she might lead him through the house to the bedchamber that had been so lonely in his absence.
The slaves kept their eyes down as the couple passed, though the cats were not so standoffish, weaving about Mayet’s bare legs and mewling for their master’s attention. They were perhaps her biggest rivals for Oso’s attention at this point, but Mayet would not be dissuaded.
Already the bedchamber was lit golden and low by lanterns, and fragranced with susinum, the spice and floral perfume that Mayet had become so attached to after Oso had brought some back to her on one of his campaigns. Turning to him, her hands were quick and nimble as they sought to divest him of his garments, to encourage him onto the wide wooden bed and the linens she’d had it dressed in that very day. He deserved comfort now more than ever.
The notion of having Oso safe and home should have filled her with wonder, and his lips trailed across her skin, for some part it did. How she would love to have him home always, to see the strain and stress that always sat upon his brow when he returned from a war gone forever. She could wish for that.
And yet, even as she arched into his touch and the warmth of his mouth, there was a cold thrill that ran down her spine. If he were home more then some marriage to a woman of noble birth would surely come that much sooner. And whilst Mayet did not doubt in Osorsen’s love for her, for he wore it as freely as the scars that he had collected over the years, she did not relish becoming second fiddle to some jumped- up woman who would never understand the man like she did.
“Perhaps one day the stars will stop shining too, ibib” Mayet let her fingers tangle in the thick black of his hair, held his mouth to her and relished in his affection. He was like the sun, radiating warmth and fire and passion, and when he was near she could not help but turn toward him, basking in the light that had been withheld from her when he was away fighting and winning against their enemies. This time was hers though, and she would not waste imagining a world where she would not want him near, always.
Gently, she slipped her fingers beneath his jaw and tilted his head up, kissing and nipping at his lips with her teeth. “Come to bed, let me tend to you and I will have food brought afterwards. Surely your body must crave something soft to lay upon after so long?”
She shimmied off his lap, let her gown fall into a puddle at his feet so every tawny inch of her was laid bare to his eyes and then tugged on his hand, urging him to his feet so she might lead him through the house to the bedchamber that had been so lonely in his absence.
The slaves kept their eyes down as the couple passed, though the cats were not so standoffish, weaving about Mayet’s bare legs and mewling for their master’s attention. They were perhaps her biggest rivals for Oso’s attention at this point, but Mayet would not be dissuaded.
Already the bedchamber was lit golden and low by lanterns, and fragranced with susinum, the spice and floral perfume that Mayet had become so attached to after Oso had brought some back to her on one of his campaigns. Turning to him, her hands were quick and nimble as they sought to divest him of his garments, to encourage him onto the wide wooden bed and the linens she’d had it dressed in that very day. He deserved comfort now more than ever.
Pressed to her chest Osorsen could almost believe the lie he'd told before, that there would be fewer wars to take him from her and pose a threat to them. Her comment had him laughing warmly against her breast, knowing full well that he was blessed by the gods to have a woman like her in his life. He did believe that if they were fortunate enough to have more time together, they would not grow tired of one another. Indeed he'd determined that whether his grandfather gave his blessing now or later, there would be children, young Moghadams who would run about the saraaya and call her Mother.
Oso kissed her, lifting his chin as she demanded and giving a nod at her order to come to bed. After spending so many months giving orders of his own he was happy enough to listen to hers, following her as she stood and led him through the home. His eyes soaked in every inch of her body, very nearly blinded to everything else until the cats began making their presence known. He laughed at their antics, very nearly tripping over one that had asserted herself as Oso's special favorite amongst the many sand colored creatures that slipped through the halls.
Pausing, he lifted the cat with his free hand, cradling her to his chest as she purred and rubbed her face against his beard, clearly happy to have him home. This was what he wanted to come home to for the rest of his life. His beautiful woman, a loyal staff, happy animals. Setting down the cat as they reached the door of their bedchamber, his hands went to Mayet's hips, resting there as they stepped into the room until her own demanded the removal of his clothing. He allowed her to undress him, the heavy leather of the armor thudding to the floor followed by the whisper of the cloth of his kilt, drawing her into his embrace as soon as they were equally matched.
Settling onto the bed he drew her into his lap once again, shifting them back so that he was propped up against the headboard and able to devote his full attention to her. His lips sought her kisses once more, and though he appreciated the way she'd braided the beads into her hair, he wanted much more to run his hands through the silken threads he dreamt of. "I've never been happier to be home, my love."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Pressed to her chest Osorsen could almost believe the lie he'd told before, that there would be fewer wars to take him from her and pose a threat to them. Her comment had him laughing warmly against her breast, knowing full well that he was blessed by the gods to have a woman like her in his life. He did believe that if they were fortunate enough to have more time together, they would not grow tired of one another. Indeed he'd determined that whether his grandfather gave his blessing now or later, there would be children, young Moghadams who would run about the saraaya and call her Mother.
Oso kissed her, lifting his chin as she demanded and giving a nod at her order to come to bed. After spending so many months giving orders of his own he was happy enough to listen to hers, following her as she stood and led him through the home. His eyes soaked in every inch of her body, very nearly blinded to everything else until the cats began making their presence known. He laughed at their antics, very nearly tripping over one that had asserted herself as Oso's special favorite amongst the many sand colored creatures that slipped through the halls.
Pausing, he lifted the cat with his free hand, cradling her to his chest as she purred and rubbed her face against his beard, clearly happy to have him home. This was what he wanted to come home to for the rest of his life. His beautiful woman, a loyal staff, happy animals. Setting down the cat as they reached the door of their bedchamber, his hands went to Mayet's hips, resting there as they stepped into the room until her own demanded the removal of his clothing. He allowed her to undress him, the heavy leather of the armor thudding to the floor followed by the whisper of the cloth of his kilt, drawing her into his embrace as soon as they were equally matched.
Settling onto the bed he drew her into his lap once again, shifting them back so that he was propped up against the headboard and able to devote his full attention to her. His lips sought her kisses once more, and though he appreciated the way she'd braided the beads into her hair, he wanted much more to run his hands through the silken threads he dreamt of. "I've never been happier to be home, my love."
Pressed to her chest Osorsen could almost believe the lie he'd told before, that there would be fewer wars to take him from her and pose a threat to them. Her comment had him laughing warmly against her breast, knowing full well that he was blessed by the gods to have a woman like her in his life. He did believe that if they were fortunate enough to have more time together, they would not grow tired of one another. Indeed he'd determined that whether his grandfather gave his blessing now or later, there would be children, young Moghadams who would run about the saraaya and call her Mother.
Oso kissed her, lifting his chin as she demanded and giving a nod at her order to come to bed. After spending so many months giving orders of his own he was happy enough to listen to hers, following her as she stood and led him through the home. His eyes soaked in every inch of her body, very nearly blinded to everything else until the cats began making their presence known. He laughed at their antics, very nearly tripping over one that had asserted herself as Oso's special favorite amongst the many sand colored creatures that slipped through the halls.
Pausing, he lifted the cat with his free hand, cradling her to his chest as she purred and rubbed her face against his beard, clearly happy to have him home. This was what he wanted to come home to for the rest of his life. His beautiful woman, a loyal staff, happy animals. Setting down the cat as they reached the door of their bedchamber, his hands went to Mayet's hips, resting there as they stepped into the room until her own demanded the removal of his clothing. He allowed her to undress him, the heavy leather of the armor thudding to the floor followed by the whisper of the cloth of his kilt, drawing her into his embrace as soon as they were equally matched.
Settling onto the bed he drew her into his lap once again, shifting them back so that he was propped up against the headboard and able to devote his full attention to her. His lips sought her kisses once more, and though he appreciated the way she'd braided the beads into her hair, he wanted much more to run his hands through the silken threads he dreamt of. "I've never been happier to be home, my love."