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Skylla was no longer thinking of the trouble that she could find for allowing herself such a slip up. To allow herself to be close to Callidora once more would only open the floodgates to more risky behavior. More chances to be caught. Being alone would only leave them drifting back together over and over and over despite the inherent danger of it all. But the danger was also alluring. Being within arms reach of her lover with the danger of death looming over them was something that Skylla was able to risk. At least for the moment. It had been too long since she had even gotten to set eyes on the woman, let alone touch her.
The last time they had been intimate had been a terrifying disaster that left them both clinging at one another through the bars of prison cells. She could still remember the way that Dora's hands fit in her own, their fingers laced together and their foreheads touching through the bars. To have been let off just because Skylla was useful to the Pharaoh? That had been a shock she wasn't ready for. And they'd had no sort of closure whatsoever.
Her feet carried her to the darkness that had settled behind the main tent of the circus. And Skylla waited, as patiently as she always did. Because there was always time enough for Callidora. There always would be, even if time and circumstance distanced them. Given the chance, she would always come back here, to these moments. She felt this same way about Lukos, having always sought him out at ports when she had that inkling that he was about. Skylla had never thought to look on love as an emotion that she could feel, but she was quickly realizing that it had been something in her heart despite her upbringing.
The weakness of women, Lukos would call it. So it was something that was never spoken of or alluded to. But to have someone admit that they were in love with her? That left Skylla wanting more. Wanting Dora even when she knew that she should not have been allowed to have her at all.
Dora approached her in the dim light cast by the sun, her hair still glittering like fire at this angle. Straightening herself immediately, instinct wanted to bring her closer to the other woman, her dark gaze almost wide. She wanted to reach out, and she nearly did before she hesitated and looked about them as if someone would find them there. Together. But Dora's words, though Skylla initially spoke none of her own, had her nodding quickly. Anywhere where she could get her hands upon the woman. Even just to embrace her.
Following faithfully, more faithfully than she had ever followed anyone before, Skylla slipped in behind Dora, liking the darkness of the tent. But as soon as they were alone, Skylla had reached out to grab Callidora's arm, spinning her sharply toward Skylla herself so that she could get a better look at her. There was a pause, a single beat of hesitation as both of her hands drifted up to cup Dora's jaw in her palms.
"I never asked you when we were in the prison," she whispered softly, her brows furrowing even in the darkness, "But..." another pause, a beat of a moment where she couldn't think of anything but Dora's lips. Her thought trailed away rather quickly as she closed the distance between them, her lips brushing Dora's softly at first just so she didn't find herself too distracted to finish what was on her mind. "You did hear me say I loved you too, right?" she whispered quietly, "So you can understand why it has been so long since you've seen me?" she breathed, searching Dora's blue eyes even in the dim light within the tent.
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Nov 10, 2020 19:49:54 GMT
Posted In take a breath on Nov 10, 2020 19:49:54 GMT
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[Continued from The Greatest Show On Earth]
Skylla was no longer thinking of the trouble that she could find for allowing herself such a slip up. To allow herself to be close to Callidora once more would only open the floodgates to more risky behavior. More chances to be caught. Being alone would only leave them drifting back together over and over and over despite the inherent danger of it all. But the danger was also alluring. Being within arms reach of her lover with the danger of death looming over them was something that Skylla was able to risk. At least for the moment. It had been too long since she had even gotten to set eyes on the woman, let alone touch her.
The last time they had been intimate had been a terrifying disaster that left them both clinging at one another through the bars of prison cells. She could still remember the way that Dora's hands fit in her own, their fingers laced together and their foreheads touching through the bars. To have been let off just because Skylla was useful to the Pharaoh? That had been a shock she wasn't ready for. And they'd had no sort of closure whatsoever.
Her feet carried her to the darkness that had settled behind the main tent of the circus. And Skylla waited, as patiently as she always did. Because there was always time enough for Callidora. There always would be, even if time and circumstance distanced them. Given the chance, she would always come back here, to these moments. She felt this same way about Lukos, having always sought him out at ports when she had that inkling that he was about. Skylla had never thought to look on love as an emotion that she could feel, but she was quickly realizing that it had been something in her heart despite her upbringing.
The weakness of women, Lukos would call it. So it was something that was never spoken of or alluded to. But to have someone admit that they were in love with her? That left Skylla wanting more. Wanting Dora even when she knew that she should not have been allowed to have her at all.
Dora approached her in the dim light cast by the sun, her hair still glittering like fire at this angle. Straightening herself immediately, instinct wanted to bring her closer to the other woman, her dark gaze almost wide. She wanted to reach out, and she nearly did before she hesitated and looked about them as if someone would find them there. Together. But Dora's words, though Skylla initially spoke none of her own, had her nodding quickly. Anywhere where she could get her hands upon the woman. Even just to embrace her.
Following faithfully, more faithfully than she had ever followed anyone before, Skylla slipped in behind Dora, liking the darkness of the tent. But as soon as they were alone, Skylla had reached out to grab Callidora's arm, spinning her sharply toward Skylla herself so that she could get a better look at her. There was a pause, a single beat of hesitation as both of her hands drifted up to cup Dora's jaw in her palms.
"I never asked you when we were in the prison," she whispered softly, her brows furrowing even in the darkness, "But..." another pause, a beat of a moment where she couldn't think of anything but Dora's lips. Her thought trailed away rather quickly as she closed the distance between them, her lips brushing Dora's softly at first just so she didn't find herself too distracted to finish what was on her mind. "You did hear me say I loved you too, right?" she whispered quietly, "So you can understand why it has been so long since you've seen me?" she breathed, searching Dora's blue eyes even in the dim light within the tent.
[Continued from The Greatest Show On Earth]
Skylla was no longer thinking of the trouble that she could find for allowing herself such a slip up. To allow herself to be close to Callidora once more would only open the floodgates to more risky behavior. More chances to be caught. Being alone would only leave them drifting back together over and over and over despite the inherent danger of it all. But the danger was also alluring. Being within arms reach of her lover with the danger of death looming over them was something that Skylla was able to risk. At least for the moment. It had been too long since she had even gotten to set eyes on the woman, let alone touch her.
The last time they had been intimate had been a terrifying disaster that left them both clinging at one another through the bars of prison cells. She could still remember the way that Dora's hands fit in her own, their fingers laced together and their foreheads touching through the bars. To have been let off just because Skylla was useful to the Pharaoh? That had been a shock she wasn't ready for. And they'd had no sort of closure whatsoever.
Her feet carried her to the darkness that had settled behind the main tent of the circus. And Skylla waited, as patiently as she always did. Because there was always time enough for Callidora. There always would be, even if time and circumstance distanced them. Given the chance, she would always come back here, to these moments. She felt this same way about Lukos, having always sought him out at ports when she had that inkling that he was about. Skylla had never thought to look on love as an emotion that she could feel, but she was quickly realizing that it had been something in her heart despite her upbringing.
The weakness of women, Lukos would call it. So it was something that was never spoken of or alluded to. But to have someone admit that they were in love with her? That left Skylla wanting more. Wanting Dora even when she knew that she should not have been allowed to have her at all.
Dora approached her in the dim light cast by the sun, her hair still glittering like fire at this angle. Straightening herself immediately, instinct wanted to bring her closer to the other woman, her dark gaze almost wide. She wanted to reach out, and she nearly did before she hesitated and looked about them as if someone would find them there. Together. But Dora's words, though Skylla initially spoke none of her own, had her nodding quickly. Anywhere where she could get her hands upon the woman. Even just to embrace her.
Following faithfully, more faithfully than she had ever followed anyone before, Skylla slipped in behind Dora, liking the darkness of the tent. But as soon as they were alone, Skylla had reached out to grab Callidora's arm, spinning her sharply toward Skylla herself so that she could get a better look at her. There was a pause, a single beat of hesitation as both of her hands drifted up to cup Dora's jaw in her palms.
"I never asked you when we were in the prison," she whispered softly, her brows furrowing even in the darkness, "But..." another pause, a beat of a moment where she couldn't think of anything but Dora's lips. Her thought trailed away rather quickly as she closed the distance between them, her lips brushing Dora's softly at first just so she didn't find herself too distracted to finish what was on her mind. "You did hear me say I loved you too, right?" she whispered quietly, "So you can understand why it has been so long since you've seen me?" she breathed, searching Dora's blue eyes even in the dim light within the tent.
It was all she could to breathe as she led Skylla inside the tent, her heart stuttering a harsh staccato rhythm against the inside of her ribcage. How many weeks had it been since she had even caught a glimpse of the exotic beauty who stood in front of her, looking as resplendent as she ever had? Egypt suited her, she thought, even if the circumstances that brought them here were less than ideal. The bronze of her skin, the curl of her hair, the way her kalasiris hugged her curves just so… she looked like a goddess brought back to her native shores.
Before Callidora could say a word, a hand was wrapped around her wrist, tugging her in until they were practically molded to each other. Her eyes fell closed with a soft exhale as Skylla’s palms cupped her face, relaxing into that simple touch with a relief she could scarce describe. Though she knew they could not stay here long, that this was only a brief reprieve, she was intoxicated already—drunk merely on the sight of her. The touch of her hands on her skin. The sweet scent that grounded her in the moment.
When Skylla’s lips brushed over hers, it felt like a homecoming. Dora groaned in spite of herself, leaning into that kiss even as the other woman pulled away. Her arms slid around Skylla’s waist, pressing in closer to feel the woman’s skin on hers, to commingle their warmth in a way that had been so sorely lacking. For a moment, she followed the broken kiss before her eyes reopened, searching a dark gaze as her lover posed her soft question.
“Of course I heard you,” she whispered back in Greek, tightening her grasp on Skylla’s waist. “And I’ve heard it a thousand times since. You live in my dreams near every night, Skylla.” Her name felt like music on Callidora’s tongue, nearly as sweet as the taste of plush lips on hers. “Gods, how I’ve missed you.”
One hand wound in midnight locks as she met her lips again, lingering as she took the time to more thoroughly relearn her lover’s mouth, her tongue lightly flicking at the opening between them. Pulling back with a shudder, just enough that she could take a breath, she sought Skylla’s gaze again. Her eyes flicked between hers, the hand in her hair coming down to caress her cheek instead.
“Are you well?” she murmured, searching her face and what she could see of her body as if looking for injury. Her free hand roamed along her hip and side, testing through the thin fabric of her kalasiris as if touch alone could tell her what she wanted to know. “How do they treat you in the Palace?” Though the Pharaoh had spared their lives, she did not have such faith that he would spare the physician’s dignity. Not with what he knew. “How fares the Queen and her child?” From what she had heard, Skylla regularly attended to the pregnant Hatshepsut, and Callidora worried for her proximity to Iahotep. “Are you safe?”
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Nov 14, 2020 23:40:32 GMT
Posted In take a breath on Nov 14, 2020 23:40:32 GMT
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It was all she could to breathe as she led Skylla inside the tent, her heart stuttering a harsh staccato rhythm against the inside of her ribcage. How many weeks had it been since she had even caught a glimpse of the exotic beauty who stood in front of her, looking as resplendent as she ever had? Egypt suited her, she thought, even if the circumstances that brought them here were less than ideal. The bronze of her skin, the curl of her hair, the way her kalasiris hugged her curves just so… she looked like a goddess brought back to her native shores.
Before Callidora could say a word, a hand was wrapped around her wrist, tugging her in until they were practically molded to each other. Her eyes fell closed with a soft exhale as Skylla’s palms cupped her face, relaxing into that simple touch with a relief she could scarce describe. Though she knew they could not stay here long, that this was only a brief reprieve, she was intoxicated already—drunk merely on the sight of her. The touch of her hands on her skin. The sweet scent that grounded her in the moment.
When Skylla’s lips brushed over hers, it felt like a homecoming. Dora groaned in spite of herself, leaning into that kiss even as the other woman pulled away. Her arms slid around Skylla’s waist, pressing in closer to feel the woman’s skin on hers, to commingle their warmth in a way that had been so sorely lacking. For a moment, she followed the broken kiss before her eyes reopened, searching a dark gaze as her lover posed her soft question.
“Of course I heard you,” she whispered back in Greek, tightening her grasp on Skylla’s waist. “And I’ve heard it a thousand times since. You live in my dreams near every night, Skylla.” Her name felt like music on Callidora’s tongue, nearly as sweet as the taste of plush lips on hers. “Gods, how I’ve missed you.”
One hand wound in midnight locks as she met her lips again, lingering as she took the time to more thoroughly relearn her lover’s mouth, her tongue lightly flicking at the opening between them. Pulling back with a shudder, just enough that she could take a breath, she sought Skylla’s gaze again. Her eyes flicked between hers, the hand in her hair coming down to caress her cheek instead.
“Are you well?” she murmured, searching her face and what she could see of her body as if looking for injury. Her free hand roamed along her hip and side, testing through the thin fabric of her kalasiris as if touch alone could tell her what she wanted to know. “How do they treat you in the Palace?” Though the Pharaoh had spared their lives, she did not have such faith that he would spare the physician’s dignity. Not with what he knew. “How fares the Queen and her child?” From what she had heard, Skylla regularly attended to the pregnant Hatshepsut, and Callidora worried for her proximity to Iahotep. “Are you safe?”
It was all she could to breathe as she led Skylla inside the tent, her heart stuttering a harsh staccato rhythm against the inside of her ribcage. How many weeks had it been since she had even caught a glimpse of the exotic beauty who stood in front of her, looking as resplendent as she ever had? Egypt suited her, she thought, even if the circumstances that brought them here were less than ideal. The bronze of her skin, the curl of her hair, the way her kalasiris hugged her curves just so… she looked like a goddess brought back to her native shores.
Before Callidora could say a word, a hand was wrapped around her wrist, tugging her in until they were practically molded to each other. Her eyes fell closed with a soft exhale as Skylla’s palms cupped her face, relaxing into that simple touch with a relief she could scarce describe. Though she knew they could not stay here long, that this was only a brief reprieve, she was intoxicated already—drunk merely on the sight of her. The touch of her hands on her skin. The sweet scent that grounded her in the moment.
When Skylla’s lips brushed over hers, it felt like a homecoming. Dora groaned in spite of herself, leaning into that kiss even as the other woman pulled away. Her arms slid around Skylla’s waist, pressing in closer to feel the woman’s skin on hers, to commingle their warmth in a way that had been so sorely lacking. For a moment, she followed the broken kiss before her eyes reopened, searching a dark gaze as her lover posed her soft question.
“Of course I heard you,” she whispered back in Greek, tightening her grasp on Skylla’s waist. “And I’ve heard it a thousand times since. You live in my dreams near every night, Skylla.” Her name felt like music on Callidora’s tongue, nearly as sweet as the taste of plush lips on hers. “Gods, how I’ve missed you.”
One hand wound in midnight locks as she met her lips again, lingering as she took the time to more thoroughly relearn her lover’s mouth, her tongue lightly flicking at the opening between them. Pulling back with a shudder, just enough that she could take a breath, she sought Skylla’s gaze again. Her eyes flicked between hers, the hand in her hair coming down to caress her cheek instead.
“Are you well?” she murmured, searching her face and what she could see of her body as if looking for injury. Her free hand roamed along her hip and side, testing through the thin fabric of her kalasiris as if touch alone could tell her what she wanted to know. “How do they treat you in the Palace?” Though the Pharaoh had spared their lives, she did not have such faith that he would spare the physician’s dignity. Not with what he knew. “How fares the Queen and her child?” From what she had heard, Skylla regularly attended to the pregnant Hatshepsut, and Callidora worried for her proximity to Iahotep. “Are you safe?”
If there was anything that Skylla found herself grateful of, it was the darkness within the small tent to the side of the circus. It gave them privacy, sure, but it also allowed Skylla to shed the mask that she'd worn every day since they'd both been taken prisoner and nearly carted to their deaths. Skylla had thought about the stones that could have ended their lives more than once since they had been released and force to part ways. She'd never stopped thinking of Callidora, never stopped trying to gather as much money as she could to ensure that one or both of them could make it off this godsforsaken continent alive. She had enough, she thought, to maybe send Callidora back to Greece where she would be so much safer than she was even within the confines of this circus.
But she was most grateful for the darkness because she couldn't stop the warm spilling of a few tears down her cheeks when Callidora said such sweet things to her. Skylla hadn't realized how much she had missed hearing the sweetness of words like these until she was standing right here, back in the arms of the only person she had ever admitted to loving. At least outloud. Love had long been a foreign concept to Skylla. She knew her mother's love, but she had never known love in this way. Or maybe she had, but hadn't been able to put a word to it. She wasn't so sure if Lukos even knew the word, either.
Here, though? Here, she felt safe. The safest she had ever felt even in the face of the danger that could be around any corner at any moment. Skylla let out a wavering breath, close to a small sob, as Callidora pulled her back in for another kiss. This one, Skylla held onto for as long as she could, pulling herself closer, as close as she possibly could, her fingers winding into Dora's hair. Her tongue brushed Dora's and she found her breath gone, willing to go down a road they wouldn't be able to take back a second time if they got caught another time.
They couldn't, though. Not here. Perhaps they could find somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe. Somewhere were no one would suspect the worst of them. Where no one would suspect that the two of them were wrapped up in one another in the only space they could find to be themselves.
The break of the kiss, though, had Skylla dropping her forehead against Dora's shoulder, her eyes closing for a moment before she lifted her head. The questions were all valid ones, but she wasn't sure that they were really what Dora wanted to hear right then. But Skylla answered them all the same, "I am well. The queen treats me with kindness and civility and seeks my aid and friendship at every turn. The child is healthy, though the queen struggles awfully with morning sickness," Skylla murmured, swallowing hard in an effort to attempt to compose herself. "I am safe. Are you safe?" Skylla asked, "How were you able to run your stall again?"
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If there was anything that Skylla found herself grateful of, it was the darkness within the small tent to the side of the circus. It gave them privacy, sure, but it also allowed Skylla to shed the mask that she'd worn every day since they'd both been taken prisoner and nearly carted to their deaths. Skylla had thought about the stones that could have ended their lives more than once since they had been released and force to part ways. She'd never stopped thinking of Callidora, never stopped trying to gather as much money as she could to ensure that one or both of them could make it off this godsforsaken continent alive. She had enough, she thought, to maybe send Callidora back to Greece where she would be so much safer than she was even within the confines of this circus.
But she was most grateful for the darkness because she couldn't stop the warm spilling of a few tears down her cheeks when Callidora said such sweet things to her. Skylla hadn't realized how much she had missed hearing the sweetness of words like these until she was standing right here, back in the arms of the only person she had ever admitted to loving. At least outloud. Love had long been a foreign concept to Skylla. She knew her mother's love, but she had never known love in this way. Or maybe she had, but hadn't been able to put a word to it. She wasn't so sure if Lukos even knew the word, either.
Here, though? Here, she felt safe. The safest she had ever felt even in the face of the danger that could be around any corner at any moment. Skylla let out a wavering breath, close to a small sob, as Callidora pulled her back in for another kiss. This one, Skylla held onto for as long as she could, pulling herself closer, as close as she possibly could, her fingers winding into Dora's hair. Her tongue brushed Dora's and she found her breath gone, willing to go down a road they wouldn't be able to take back a second time if they got caught another time.
They couldn't, though. Not here. Perhaps they could find somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe. Somewhere were no one would suspect the worst of them. Where no one would suspect that the two of them were wrapped up in one another in the only space they could find to be themselves.
The break of the kiss, though, had Skylla dropping her forehead against Dora's shoulder, her eyes closing for a moment before she lifted her head. The questions were all valid ones, but she wasn't sure that they were really what Dora wanted to hear right then. But Skylla answered them all the same, "I am well. The queen treats me with kindness and civility and seeks my aid and friendship at every turn. The child is healthy, though the queen struggles awfully with morning sickness," Skylla murmured, swallowing hard in an effort to attempt to compose herself. "I am safe. Are you safe?" Skylla asked, "How were you able to run your stall again?"
If there was anything that Skylla found herself grateful of, it was the darkness within the small tent to the side of the circus. It gave them privacy, sure, but it also allowed Skylla to shed the mask that she'd worn every day since they'd both been taken prisoner and nearly carted to their deaths. Skylla had thought about the stones that could have ended their lives more than once since they had been released and force to part ways. She'd never stopped thinking of Callidora, never stopped trying to gather as much money as she could to ensure that one or both of them could make it off this godsforsaken continent alive. She had enough, she thought, to maybe send Callidora back to Greece where she would be so much safer than she was even within the confines of this circus.
But she was most grateful for the darkness because she couldn't stop the warm spilling of a few tears down her cheeks when Callidora said such sweet things to her. Skylla hadn't realized how much she had missed hearing the sweetness of words like these until she was standing right here, back in the arms of the only person she had ever admitted to loving. At least outloud. Love had long been a foreign concept to Skylla. She knew her mother's love, but she had never known love in this way. Or maybe she had, but hadn't been able to put a word to it. She wasn't so sure if Lukos even knew the word, either.
Here, though? Here, she felt safe. The safest she had ever felt even in the face of the danger that could be around any corner at any moment. Skylla let out a wavering breath, close to a small sob, as Callidora pulled her back in for another kiss. This one, Skylla held onto for as long as she could, pulling herself closer, as close as she possibly could, her fingers winding into Dora's hair. Her tongue brushed Dora's and she found her breath gone, willing to go down a road they wouldn't be able to take back a second time if they got caught another time.
They couldn't, though. Not here. Perhaps they could find somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe. Somewhere were no one would suspect the worst of them. Where no one would suspect that the two of them were wrapped up in one another in the only space they could find to be themselves.
The break of the kiss, though, had Skylla dropping her forehead against Dora's shoulder, her eyes closing for a moment before she lifted her head. The questions were all valid ones, but she wasn't sure that they were really what Dora wanted to hear right then. But Skylla answered them all the same, "I am well. The queen treats me with kindness and civility and seeks my aid and friendship at every turn. The child is healthy, though the queen struggles awfully with morning sickness," Skylla murmured, swallowing hard in an effort to attempt to compose herself. "I am safe. Are you safe?" Skylla asked, "How were you able to run your stall again?"
Gentle thumbs brushed the teardrops from her lover’s face, a tender kiss placed in the middle of her forehead. Callidora didn’t speak, though; she, too, was overwhelmed by surging tides of emotion. After the death of her husband, the death of her brother, the effective loss of Skylla… to be here now, to hold the woman in her arms was almost more than she knew how to handle. She could not remember the last time she’d felt such joy, such profuse relief simply by the presence of another person.
Skylla’s face came in to pillow against her shoulder, Dora’s fingers carefully running through the dark tresses that adorned her head. It was enough, for then, just to hold her. To revel in her presence, so sorely lacking for so long. She could have stood there for hours, silently, her arms wrapped around Skylla, and she would have been content. Unfortunately, she knew they did not have hours. The circus would soon draw to a close, and they would need to be gone before that happened.
The other woman’s head lifted as she spoke again, answering Dora’s inquiries as she responded with a silent nod. Good. She was safe. That was what mattered. For months, she had worried as to Skylla’s fate, fearful of what might happen to her under the Pharaoh’s roof, but it was good to hear that Hatshepsut did not take after the cruel whims of her husband. Finally, some of her concern eased as she leaned back to gently trace a finger along the physician’s jawline.
“I am glad to hear it,” she murmured in return, another kiss ghosting along the edge of her mouth. “I have feared greatly for you. I knew you were alive, but I couldn’t garner much more than that.”
Leaning back, a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips when Skylla returned her line of questioning. “I am safe now. It was… dicey there for a bit.” Her stall had been vandalized on more than one occasion, stolen from, torn apart completely by that fateful sandstorm… “But the gods saw fit to look after me. Finally. I cannot count the number of prayers I have sent to them, Greek and Egyptian alike.”
Her smirk turned to a more genuine smile as she explained, “I was caught up in that sandstorm last month, and everything I had in the stall was destroyed. I don’t know whether it was luck, fate, or the hands of the gods as I said, but I was rescued and pulled into a local tavern by none other than the young Lord Akhenaten H’Sheifa. We got to talking, and he promised to help me rebuild. When I went to see him and take him up on that promise, we struck up a business arrangement.” Letting out a sort of disbelieving laugh, she shook her head. “It’s… more than I ever could have asked for, Skylla. He’s put me in charge of his entire trading line. Me. A Greek woman.” It still made her head reel whenever she thought about it too much. “I’ve been desperate to send you word. I’ve gotten out of that wretched tavern, and now I have the money, I can…”
Swallowing a little nervously, she cupped Skylla’s face—unsure how she would respond to this next bit. “I could purchase a villa right here in Cairo for us, if you wanted it. You wouldn’t have to stay in the Palace any longer, and we would have enough privacy that we wouldn’t be hauled away by city guards again.” Searching the other woman’s gaze, Dora held her breath. Would she ever agree? The plan had always been to leave Egypt once they had the money, but she’d be a fool to leave now. The position she had attained was beyond her wildest dreams, more than anything she could ever hope for in any of the Greek kingdoms. How could she turn her back on the very thing she’d worked for her entire life?
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Jan 26, 2021 20:32:23 GMT
Posted In take a breath on Jan 26, 2021 20:32:23 GMT
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Gentle thumbs brushed the teardrops from her lover’s face, a tender kiss placed in the middle of her forehead. Callidora didn’t speak, though; she, too, was overwhelmed by surging tides of emotion. After the death of her husband, the death of her brother, the effective loss of Skylla… to be here now, to hold the woman in her arms was almost more than she knew how to handle. She could not remember the last time she’d felt such joy, such profuse relief simply by the presence of another person.
Skylla’s face came in to pillow against her shoulder, Dora’s fingers carefully running through the dark tresses that adorned her head. It was enough, for then, just to hold her. To revel in her presence, so sorely lacking for so long. She could have stood there for hours, silently, her arms wrapped around Skylla, and she would have been content. Unfortunately, she knew they did not have hours. The circus would soon draw to a close, and they would need to be gone before that happened.
The other woman’s head lifted as she spoke again, answering Dora’s inquiries as she responded with a silent nod. Good. She was safe. That was what mattered. For months, she had worried as to Skylla’s fate, fearful of what might happen to her under the Pharaoh’s roof, but it was good to hear that Hatshepsut did not take after the cruel whims of her husband. Finally, some of her concern eased as she leaned back to gently trace a finger along the physician’s jawline.
“I am glad to hear it,” she murmured in return, another kiss ghosting along the edge of her mouth. “I have feared greatly for you. I knew you were alive, but I couldn’t garner much more than that.”
Leaning back, a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips when Skylla returned her line of questioning. “I am safe now. It was… dicey there for a bit.” Her stall had been vandalized on more than one occasion, stolen from, torn apart completely by that fateful sandstorm… “But the gods saw fit to look after me. Finally. I cannot count the number of prayers I have sent to them, Greek and Egyptian alike.”
Her smirk turned to a more genuine smile as she explained, “I was caught up in that sandstorm last month, and everything I had in the stall was destroyed. I don’t know whether it was luck, fate, or the hands of the gods as I said, but I was rescued and pulled into a local tavern by none other than the young Lord Akhenaten H’Sheifa. We got to talking, and he promised to help me rebuild. When I went to see him and take him up on that promise, we struck up a business arrangement.” Letting out a sort of disbelieving laugh, she shook her head. “It’s… more than I ever could have asked for, Skylla. He’s put me in charge of his entire trading line. Me. A Greek woman.” It still made her head reel whenever she thought about it too much. “I’ve been desperate to send you word. I’ve gotten out of that wretched tavern, and now I have the money, I can…”
Swallowing a little nervously, she cupped Skylla’s face—unsure how she would respond to this next bit. “I could purchase a villa right here in Cairo for us, if you wanted it. You wouldn’t have to stay in the Palace any longer, and we would have enough privacy that we wouldn’t be hauled away by city guards again.” Searching the other woman’s gaze, Dora held her breath. Would she ever agree? The plan had always been to leave Egypt once they had the money, but she’d be a fool to leave now. The position she had attained was beyond her wildest dreams, more than anything she could ever hope for in any of the Greek kingdoms. How could she turn her back on the very thing she’d worked for her entire life?
Gentle thumbs brushed the teardrops from her lover’s face, a tender kiss placed in the middle of her forehead. Callidora didn’t speak, though; she, too, was overwhelmed by surging tides of emotion. After the death of her husband, the death of her brother, the effective loss of Skylla… to be here now, to hold the woman in her arms was almost more than she knew how to handle. She could not remember the last time she’d felt such joy, such profuse relief simply by the presence of another person.
Skylla’s face came in to pillow against her shoulder, Dora’s fingers carefully running through the dark tresses that adorned her head. It was enough, for then, just to hold her. To revel in her presence, so sorely lacking for so long. She could have stood there for hours, silently, her arms wrapped around Skylla, and she would have been content. Unfortunately, she knew they did not have hours. The circus would soon draw to a close, and they would need to be gone before that happened.
The other woman’s head lifted as she spoke again, answering Dora’s inquiries as she responded with a silent nod. Good. She was safe. That was what mattered. For months, she had worried as to Skylla’s fate, fearful of what might happen to her under the Pharaoh’s roof, but it was good to hear that Hatshepsut did not take after the cruel whims of her husband. Finally, some of her concern eased as she leaned back to gently trace a finger along the physician’s jawline.
“I am glad to hear it,” she murmured in return, another kiss ghosting along the edge of her mouth. “I have feared greatly for you. I knew you were alive, but I couldn’t garner much more than that.”
Leaning back, a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips when Skylla returned her line of questioning. “I am safe now. It was… dicey there for a bit.” Her stall had been vandalized on more than one occasion, stolen from, torn apart completely by that fateful sandstorm… “But the gods saw fit to look after me. Finally. I cannot count the number of prayers I have sent to them, Greek and Egyptian alike.”
Her smirk turned to a more genuine smile as she explained, “I was caught up in that sandstorm last month, and everything I had in the stall was destroyed. I don’t know whether it was luck, fate, or the hands of the gods as I said, but I was rescued and pulled into a local tavern by none other than the young Lord Akhenaten H’Sheifa. We got to talking, and he promised to help me rebuild. When I went to see him and take him up on that promise, we struck up a business arrangement.” Letting out a sort of disbelieving laugh, she shook her head. “It’s… more than I ever could have asked for, Skylla. He’s put me in charge of his entire trading line. Me. A Greek woman.” It still made her head reel whenever she thought about it too much. “I’ve been desperate to send you word. I’ve gotten out of that wretched tavern, and now I have the money, I can…”
Swallowing a little nervously, she cupped Skylla’s face—unsure how she would respond to this next bit. “I could purchase a villa right here in Cairo for us, if you wanted it. You wouldn’t have to stay in the Palace any longer, and we would have enough privacy that we wouldn’t be hauled away by city guards again.” Searching the other woman’s gaze, Dora held her breath. Would she ever agree? The plan had always been to leave Egypt once they had the money, but she’d be a fool to leave now. The position she had attained was beyond her wildest dreams, more than anything she could ever hope for in any of the Greek kingdoms. How could she turn her back on the very thing she’d worked for her entire life?
