forum The Jester and the Queen (Closed)

Started December 26, 2022 by @emilyevewrites group

tune

Cleopatra arched an eyebrow, looking slightly less than amused now. He had no idea how much of a task it was to please not only her own insufferable court but also the courtiers of the kingdoms that she had overthrown. They were hardly loyal to her, which she would eventually be dealing with. It was a tactic her mother had taught her. Let them feel comfortable. Then strike. Demonstrate her power. Make an appearance. It was all a very fine line.

"Well," the thrice-crowned queen asked in a tone quieter than a whisper, "which am I?"

By the goddess… the way he phrased his words made Cleopatra want to jump him then and there. But while she didn't give a fuck what her courtiers thought of her, there was still a certain public image she had to maintain.

"The question is not if I shall succeed in conquering you, Ōn’nyosh," she cooed, leaning closer for a second in a horrible tease for the both of them. "It is when."

With that, she took a gracious step back and spoke for all to hear. "Go about your business! We make for the Reinerre border tomorrow at sunrise! They will surrender to our might or face the consequences!"

The army beneath her let out a resounding cry before dispersing back through the rows of tents. Her courtiers, all royally pissed off, shuffled back into their tents. The queen then turned her attention back to Ōn’nyosh with a smirk. "My handmaiden will show you to my tent," she purred before striding away.

Cleopatra made her way past Charmion, who was sitting at the base of the queen's dais, and she leaned close to the handmaiden's ear to whisper something to her. Charmion rose to her feet and approached Ōn’nyosh with a kind but wary smile.

As the queen continued on her way, she looked back over her shoulder with a smirk before disappearing around a bend.

"Come this way, jester," Charmion said, motioning in the direction Cleopatra had gone.

“You’re the only smart one I’ve seen here,”Ōn’nyosh answered, matching her quiet tone.

He saw the lust in her eyes and knew he’d said the right thing. She was a strong woman, a lioness among sheep. Acknowledging that fact would serve him far better than fighting it. Though, he wasn’t really one to fight a fierce woman anyway. He had better ideas on how to spend his time with them.

A grin grew on his face as she teased him. Damn, it was becoming rather difficult to hold himself back, to keep from outright kissing her then.

“Hopefully, sooner rather than later,”he teased back.

Ōn’nyosh then patiently listened to Cleopatra’s call, glancing around. He chuckled at some of the angry faces he saw. Then, he turned back to Cleopatra, a grin appearing at her words.

He watched her go, more specifically staring at that lovely sway in her hips. Then, when she was gone, his eyes turned to Charmion. He nodded at her words, then held up a hand.

“I want to clean up my mess first,”he said, heading down the dais to where his belongings were still piled on the ground. He didn’t trust anyone else to do it.

His work was quick and efficient, as he’d packed up his things many times before. The longest part was the last, where he put the bag on top of the unstable step and stretched the bag over it. Technically, the bag wasn’t big enough to hold the step, but, strangely, it seemed to grow just big enough to accommodate the step, then returned to normal once it had swallowed the thing. Then, Ōn’nyosh casually slung the satchel over his shoulder and followed Charmion.

Charmion didn't try to stop him. She only watched his cleaning-up process with a veiled interest in her gaze. Her mouth parted slightly in shock as he fit everything back into his bag, and it adjusted accordingly to accommodate each item before returning to its original size.

"That's quite a pack you have there," she remarked, still studying him with curiosity and doubt. She was concerned that Cleopatra had no idea what she was getting into, and the ever-loyal handmaiden wanted to make sure nothing happened to her queen.

She began to lead him the same way Cleopatra had gone, glancing over at him every few steps warily. She was familiar with this routine by now, but that didn't stop her from worrying.

Ōn’nyosh occasionally snuck a glance around as he worked, noticing the subtle fascination of the handmaiden. Clearly, his performance wasn’t an everyday thing. He didn’t mind though, not at all.

When she made her comment, he couldn’t help snickering. If only she knew just how much magical stuff he was carrying right now. She’d probably fall over in shock.

“I know.”

The handmaiden’s wary gaze didn’t faze him. Ōn’nyosh knew already that he was a curiosity among this army, and the handmaiden was also, doubtlessly, trying to assess how much of a threat he was to the Queen. She needn’t be worried though. Ōn’nyosh had no plans at all to hurt Cleopatra. She was too fascinating, and too alluring, for Ōn’nyosh to even consider anything else besides learning about her and getting very close to her. Though, in regards to her court, he’d gladly ridicule them all day long, and steal every coin and valuable they had on them in the process.

Charmion pursed her lips slightly and ascended the little hill that led to Cleopatra's tent. The highest ground of a siege camp was always reserved for the queen. Not only was it a more pleasant view, but it was also tactfully smart should anyone discover them and attempt an attack of their own.

The handmaiden stopped a few yards away from the entrance to the queen's tent. The white silk that surrounded it billowed out with elegance and enticement. Charmion motioned for Ōn’nyosh to continue in on his own. She would not be accompanying him inside.

Cleopatra was waiting impatiently on the edge of her bed. She noted the shadows approaching and knew it could only be her handmaiden and the jester.

Unlike her handmaiden, General Nailah, and most of her court, the queen had no reservations about Ōn’nyosh. She'd seen the look in his eyes. She knew what he wanted. She had very little in the way of doubts that he would somehow harm her. And if he should try to, the dagger at her bedside might finally come in handy.

When the handmaiden stopped, Ōn’nyosh rose an eyebrow at her. Then, she motioned for him to go on, and he realized what she was doing. He took a step forward, then stopped, a last minute thought hitting him. He could tell that the handmaiden was devoted to Cleopatra, and he felt the need to reassure her.

So, Ōn’nyosh turned back to the handmaiden, and took off his weapon belt. He stuffed it in his satchel, then grabbed the blowgun from his boot, putting it in there as well. He then tied the flap of his satchel shut in front of her.

“A courtesy, for you. Now, the only weapon I have on me is my vicious tongue. And, believe me, it’s a bitch trying to dig something out of this satchel without just dumping it. I have no desire to hurt Queen Cleopatra,”Ōn’nyosh explained, his voice and demeanor gentle, a sharp contrast to his boldness from earlier.

He nodded at the handmaiden, then turned to head up to the tent. When he entered, he set his satchel on the ground a few feet from the entrance, out of the way, then took his hat off and set it on top of the satchel.

He even kicked off his boots, leaving them with his satchel as well. His feet were long and slender, with brighter scales outlining the edges of his toes, much like the scales under his eyes and on his cheeks.

“I do apologize for keeping you waiting. I didn’t want to leave a big mess in the middle of your camp. Though, I hope the suspense is affecting you as much as it is me,”Ōn’nyosh purred, reaching back to start undoing his long braid as he approached her.

He sat down next to Cleopatra, a sly grin on his face as he watched her.

Charmion watched Ōn’nyosh with confusion and awe. And when she spoke, she understood his purpose. "Thank you," she said in return, her skeptical gaze turning into one of gratitude. "As you were."

The moment Ōn’nyosh emerged into her tent, Cleopatra's eyes devoured him. She watched every movement he made until he was sitting right beside her.

"You have no idea," she breathed, leaning in just as she had mere minutes ago. But unlike then, there was no one else around them. No one to stare or watch or judge or chastize. No one but Ōn’nyosh.

Her lips were warm as they finally met his. She kissed him deeply and hungrily, the same way her eyes had looked at him during his performance. One of her hands was placed on his thigh, and the other slid into his silver hair that was now free from its earlier braid.

Ōn’nyosh felt her gaze on him the entire time. He loved that her focus was solely on him, that her eyes were practically boring into his soul. Oh, if only Cleopatra could rip out his soul and do things to it…

Her words made his breath hitch, and the scales on his cheeks and under his eyes turned a vivid red. A pair of red patches also appeared on his neck.

Ōn’nyosh eagerly kissed her back, matching her hunger. A low moan escaped him as she grabbed his thigh. He then shivered as her hand entangled in his thick, wavy mane, practically melting into her grasp.

His arms wrapped around her, his hands sliding up and down her body, exploring, as he used her as a balance. He slowly, unconsciously, bent backward toward the bed.

(I feel like we should head to PMs now, even though they’ve just started. I don’t know. But, considering who Ōn’nyosh is, he tends to escalate fast with anything, so yeah…)