A Med-Jai Wedding – Deb: LadiSwan@aol.com

He was close.  He was so very close.  His face was but a breath away from her face, his dark eyes boring into her own.  She felt her heart racing, even as he placed one hand on either side of her head.  Her breath caught in her throat, and he whispered, "I frighten you, do I not?  There is no need for you to fear me.  I would never harm you."  They had been playing this game for days, weeks, even.  It was only a matter of time before she allowed him to catch her.

She just wasn't expecting this.  He leaned in very slowly and kissed her lightly.  It was the barest hint of a kiss, simply a light caress of his lips.  But it had the effect of making her knees buckle.  She started to slide down the wall, but he caught her easily, his hands slipping from the wall to her waist.  He really did think of everything, didn't he?  His smile told her that.  She knew he was a powerful man, accustomed to getting what he wanted.

And what he wanted was to drive her mad with desire.  His hands moved from her waist to her upper arms, before cupping her breasts.  She gave a low whimper, sensations pouring through her.  One thumb lightly stroked a nipple through the white linen of her tunic as he leaned in to kiss her once more, a free hand gliding from her breast, down her ribcage, over her belly, before sliding between her legs.  She caught her breath.  No one had ever touched her there before.  But he knew what he was doing.  Of course he knew.  He knew his affect on women.

"Close your eyes, my flower, close your eyes and trust me," he whispered.  It didn't occur to her to do anything different.  Did the man have any idea how seductive he was?  How beautiful?  Of course he did. A man that beautiful couldn't help but know, could he?  Beauty could be terribly cruel, and yet, she knew he would never hurt her.  The girl closed her eyes, shuddering as he stroked his fingers between her legs.

"My flower," he whispered, his breath warm upon her face, "my sweet flower.  And that is what you are, of course.  You hide your beauty until you blossom, and then your brilliance is there for all to see."  Her breath hitched as his lips brushed hers, then she moaned at the caress of his tongue against her lips.  Demanding access to her mouth, and again, it never occurred to her to argue.  Not that she was capable of arguing, even if she had thought of it.

It seemed as though his touch had turned her brain to mush.  At that particular moment in time, she couldn't have told someone her name.  He had driven away all coherent thought with a two-pronged attack.  He. . .oh goddess, what was he *doing* to her?  She groaned as he pulled back, and started sliding down her body, kissing her through the thin tunic.  Then his lips touched her belly, and she almost collapsed from the shockwaves which went through her body.

He laughed softly, the vibration sending another shockwave through her, and whispered, "Ohhh, now I know what pleases you.  And why not?"  His hand slid from between her legs and crept back up to her middle, drawing a whimper as he cupped her there.  He continued, "This is the beginning of life, this sacred part of a woman.  But then, all of a woman is sacred, as sacred as any statue, and I intend to worship you."

He lightly stroked her belly through the thin material, murmuring, "I look forward to seeing you grow big with my child, my flower, to feeling our child grow within you." She moaned softly, her body seemingly on fire.  Her blood felt like lava in her veins, and her bones had turned to water.  His body shifted along hers and he whispered, "Are you ready for me, my flower?  Are you ready to blossom?"

She barely managed to force out an affirmative, and now his hands shifted to cup her face.  She opened her eyes to look at him, and found a strange expression in his brown eyes.  Through the haze of desire, she barely recognized it as fear.  That gave her the strength she needed, to reach up and put her hands over his own.  She whispered, "I am ready, my prince.  But I ask you to be gentle with me.  I do not fear you. . .I love you.  But these feelings do frighten me. I am not beautiful, like Nefertiri or Anck-su-namun.  I am not used to men looking at me as you do."  He smiled, leaning forward to kiss her temple, and his smile served to make her knees weak all over again.  Strange, her experimentation had never had this affect on her.  Maybe it was the difference in her body, maybe it was that it was Rameses touching her like this. 

"You are wrong, my flower.  You are just as beautiful as my sister or Anck-su-namun.  You have a true, honest heart, and that makes you the most beautiful woman in the palace.  You are my flower, my Ardath, and I will spend my entire life loving you," he promised.  Ardath, once called Eavan, looked at him with a critical eye, at this man who promised her forever.  Her first foster mother Miriam had warned her about the Egyptians.

But Miriam was no longer here, and while the Israelites had saved her life and raised her, it was the Egyptians who had loved her and taken care of her for these last five years.  Ardath was only fifteen years old, but she was practical and she had her own wisdom.  She was neither Egyptian nor Hebrew.  And from the little she remembered of her own parents, her father had never allowed the differences between him and her mother to separate them.

And she loved Rameses.  Had fallen in love with him months ago, when he prevented Khaldun from beating her and the Med-jai child.  He had taken an interest in her, and Anck had urged her to accept his attentions.  Anck was as practical as she, more so.  Not that it had been particularly hard for her to accept the attentions of the prince, not when he willingly shared himself with her.  He was nothing like Khaldun.  He would never hurt her.

He had asked her a question, and it deserved an answer.  Looking into the prince's eyes, Ardath whispered, "You tell me that you will spend your life loving me.  Then start tonight.  No more teasing.  No more kisses, only to disappear.  Take me to your bed, my prince, and love me."  Rameses stared at her, then his smile brightened.  He swung her into his arms and kissed her hard.  Ardath returned the kiss, silently grateful that she knew how to do so.

Rameses whispered against her mouth, "I am your servant.  I will worship you and love you always.  I will give you children, and if I can, I will make you my wife.  But for now, I give you my heart and my trust.  You are mine, and I am yours, forevermore."  Forever.  Ardath didn't trust forever, but she did trust Rameses, and that was enough.  She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carefully lifted her into his arms, cradling her against her chest.  And he smiled at her.

He carried her through the corridors of the palace, and Ardath saw smiles decorating the face of more than one Med-jai.  They had known this was coming. . . the biggest smiles belonged to those who had known what Rameses was planning.  That was why no one had disturbed them while Rameses was. . .touching her.  One of these days, she would learn now to underestimate the Med-jai or Rameses.  Rameses.  She almost quivered in his arms, remembering how it felt when he touched her.  She would feel that way again, she knew that.  Before the night was out, she would feel that way once more.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ardath saw someone. . .Nefertiri?  Yes, yes, it was.  The thirteen year old princess was glaring daggers at her, and Ardath sighed.  No doubt, she hated her for taking Rameses' attention away from her.  It wasn't that Nefertiri was spoiled, it was. . .oh goddess.  Ardath felt her eyes rolling up in her head as Rameses started caressing her legs.  All thoughts of Nefertiri's jealousy were driven out of her mind.  There was room only for Rameses.