For CENSORED Version: Click Here (censored for all the things)
Balsam walked in on Prim having some tongue time with her ex baby daddy, Cornelius, who turned out to be a somewhat forgetful satyr guy with (allegedly) large endowments; Balsam begrudged his Mistress nothing, because grief.
After admitting Mosi knocked him up, Prim and Balsam went to mix potions and have A Nice Moment with nice hugs and understanding and stuff (aww).
‘Selene’ bugged Artemis for a peek at her necromancy stuff, then stormed off when denied; it was sort of weird so Artie booked it to the storage room to check on her secret stash, and found a totally bizarre issue with Grandma Bastet’s portrait.
“You…came here to fuck me?”
“Well I would not say it like that!” Why must men always be so crass? “Clearly this was a stupid idea–”
“Well, on that we agree, at least; you would not like it, silly girl.”
Kebechet felt her hackles bristle at his presumption, “how do you know what I would or would not like? Raet and Nafi both enjoy it very much–”
Anubis snorted, “yes; with Pili,” he said it as though such a thing should be obvious, “who knows what he is doing; I’ve never had anything more interesting than my own hand, Highness, despite previous accusations you’ve thrown my way regarding goats–”
“I do not see how that is relevant!”
“You don’t see the issue with two clueless virgins trying to fumble their way through a rut? And you have the nerve to call your sister dumb–”
“She is dumb! I knew you would say no! I should not have listened to her–”
“Why would I say no?”
“You just did!”
“I did not, I merely pointed out why it was a bad idea…mostly for you, not for me…”
“Why would it be fine for you and not for me?”
“Likely it would hurt for you, Highness; I’ve been told that is preventable, but not how to prevent it,” his tone was unusually solicitous, “I could–do you want me to ask?”
The question caught her off guard. It was possible she gaped a little, but he waited for her to answer with a rather peculiar look on his face. Kebechet felt her heart race as the realization struck her; she’d won, somehow…had she won? Was Hattie right all along?
Anubis had never offered to do anything for her in his entire life, or had any interest in anything she said; but here he was, waiting patiently for her to decide something, with a strange intensity in his eyes…what was that? She’d never seen it on him before. It was beyond disconcerting, but also exciting.
“No, I’d rather you didn’t,” she replied after a moment, the idea of getting advice on such a thing from her parents was beyond humiliating.
The young man took a step back, “fine, but I’m still taking you home–” his voice was hard, and she felt a pang of despair as she realized her newfound power was slipping through her fingers already.
“You misunderstand!” Kebechet spoke quickly, “I mean no, don’t ask about it, not the other kind of no…I still want to, um–”
His disapproval was evident, but the edge faded from his posture.
A pang of something tugged at the sorcerer’s guts as he observed the gir–Deshret’s, remains.
Regret? Yes, somewhat; he sighed.
Sadness. Perhaps a touch of guilt, also, for he had promised to try and help her, and now no one ever would again.
“Do we know how this happened?”
“It seems she choked, my Lord, on a piece of food; though of course the embalmers will want to conduct an official examination.”
Kumya found himself noting a lack of purple discoloration and swelling; at least the pitiful creature had not died in the manner she’d feared most, though, truth be told, choking on food was probably not dissimilar.
“Such an ignominious way to die,” he muttered, “I am sorry, Deshret; may Temaz embrace you and your unborn child.”
It was the proper thing to say, but in his heart, he wished no such thing for her in the afterlife; eternity bound to gods that were not your own sounded like a poor fate indeed.
“You may send for the embalmers, Tola, I am finished here.”
Such a waste.
“Did he believe you?” Sabit asked softly, once the sorcerer had slipped away.
“He did,” confirmed the guardsman, “what shall I do with her?”
“Bring her to my chambers, my lower chambers.”
Despite the fact that this was a terrible idea, Anubis found himself taking a step towards her.
“Do you need me to help you with your dress?” Regardless of the misery this creature visited upon him, he suddenly found his fingers eager for an excuse to touch her.
Was he truly so biddable? A mere hint of interest, and his libido was throwing all sense to the wind.
There was no denying the truth; he would do nearly anything she asked in this moment, damn her! Why did the Goddess allow such weak, senseless creatures to hold such immense power over stronger, cleverer ones? It was not fair.
“Do you expect us to roll around on the grass like animals?” Gasped the harpy, “things poop on the grass, Anubis!”
She looked like a cornered rabbit, wide eyed and shaking like a leaf.
“We do not have to do this if you are afraid, Highness,” he found himself saying before the desire silenced him.
“I am not afraid!” She hissed, misinterpreting his concern for derision, “I fear no man and his floppy little member–”
“Wow, that got…it was so small before!” Her disbelief was both amusing and insulting.
“The water was cold,” he huffed, “and I’m a grower–”
“Well, I’m not sure you’ll fit now.”
A frisson of something unpleasant assaulted his conscience, warring with the rising desperation, the need born out of the promise of something that had never before been offered.
Anubis found himself reaching out to take her hands, for what purpose, he did not know; the texture of her skin was like nothing he’d ever felt before.
Were all girls this soft? Or was it just the especially troublesome ones, as a means to balance out an unsavoury personality.
“Let me take you home, Kebechet; you are not ready for this.”
The young woman’s lower lip jutted out in the way he knew meant he’d struck a nerve; many of her nerves had been struck over the course of their acquaintance, this expression was one that held the promise of some defiant speech.
Balls to that.
He’d offered several times now to take her home, hadn’t he? Let her say no if she didn’t want him…preferably without a lecture.
Kebechet pulled away and took a step back.
“I am not afraid,” was she declaring it to him, or to herself? Perhaps both…no matter, it happened that there wasn’t further time for analyzing…
‘Holy fuck; this is happening.’
“Are you alright, Anubis?” She stood in the puddle of her discarded garment with a glint of amusement in her eyes, “should I offer to take you home?”
“You can sit on me,” he murmured as he pulled her close once more, “to keep that delicate royal ass off of the dirty ground; there may be no hope for your knees, however.”
Warm, too; warm, and soft, and up close the smell of skin…was it just him? This peculiar intoxication that threw all sense and reason out the window and overwhelmed with desire.
She smiled slightly, was it what he’d said, or was she marveling at their nearness also? Maybe it was the feel of him pressed into her belly; he could try pretend himself immune to her all he pleased, but his body was having none of those shenanigans.
Anubis pulled her down with him, pleased when she followed without further complaint about animals, or dirt, or poop.
Poop was a mood killer…not that it would be easy to kill the mood for him at this point.
“I don’t know what to do,” she confessed.
It struck him how vulnerable they both were in that moment; naked, uncertain, nervous…so much so that years of animosity seemed to dissolve in an instant.
Biology had a rather mercenary way of cutting through the bullshit.
“Neither do I,” he admitted, “well, I understand the the most basic, technical–”
Her frown caused his gut to tighten, and other parts of his anatomy to ache.
“Just take your time, we will know when you are successful,” wouldn’t they? How complicated could it be…
Not very, as it turned out; credit to her for solving the mystery so swiftly.
It was…unlike his hand, to put it mildly, and her body put up less resistance than he’d anticipated.
“Oh!” Was the only comment she ventured.
“Does it hurt?” He tried to hold very still, for her sake, as well as his own.
‘Keep it together, man.’
“Not–exactly,” her reply was strangely hoarse, and his groin ached all the more upon hearing it, “it is…somewhat uncomfortable, but also–”
She shifted, and he nearly came undone.
‘Not yet, not yet, not yet…’
He hadn’t realized it would be this difficult to keep from immediately–
After a few heartbeats of utter bliss, Kebechet’s voice drew the attention of his returning awareness.
“Did you just–?”
“I’m afraid so–I did warn you that it would be a rather unpleasant experience for you…”
“I…would not say it was unpleasant,” she admitted, “and in any case, if we practice, we will get better at it, will we not?”
A fresh shiver assaulted his nerves, and Anubis realized what he had surrendered to her. It should be troubling, perhaps, to lose one’s dignity somewhere between the thighs of a beautiful woman, but…
“I believe you are correct,” he said to her, for the first time in his life.
“How do you feel, child?” Asked the brightly tattooed woman.
Wow, this lady had some kind of gnarly hearing on her, back turned and everything!
“Okay I guess,” you know, for a dead woman or whatever.
“Excellent; you will sit and ask the many questions floating around in your head,” she declared, “and then you will eat every morsel of food I put in front of you, and then you will rest.”
Okay, sure, whatever lady; you’re the boss.
“Um, thanks for the bath and the clean frock.”
“Of course, dear; you are my guest, not my prisoner.”
“Cool, so what is this place, anyhow? And, you know, did I really die? Or was that some kind of tricky fake-death potion?”
“These are my private quarters, I can promise that you will be safe here,” she crossed over to her creepy workbench thing, “and you did not die, the tincture I gave you is…complicated.”
‘Everything is fucking complicated with these people.’
But Deshret didn’t want to sound like an ungrateful jerk, “well, thanks for saving my ass, for whatever reason.”
“The reason is that babe in your belly; she yearns for this world already, and will not slumber for much longer–”
“Yes, she speaks to me, your little Raga–”
“Okay, I appreciate you not killing me and all that, super cool of you, but you can’t just go ahead and assume I’m going to let you name my baby.”
The mystic chuffed, “I assume no such thing, my dear; the child knows her own mind, and her own name, I would not presume to argue the matter with her.”
“Um, we’re talking about a baby,” crap, was her rescuer barking up the crazy tree? “Babies can’t actually talk or do stuff like name themselves, ok–”
“Babies, yes, you mean human babies–of course they cannot; useless, squealing piglets the whole lot of them,” she stabbed a piece of whatever extra hard, probably imagining it was one of them ‘useless, squealing piglets’, “but you, my dear, carry someone much more interesting, much more precious!”
“You gonna tell me who, orrr–”
Bitch sure did like her long, dramatic pauses.
The chopper set down her knife and turned, “Raga is my great-granddaughter, and no ordinary human babe.”
You and me both, Desh (j/k my face more like 😏).
Congrats on not getting murdered!
Speaking of murder, if you like Sabit’s witchy little work room, you can find it on the gallery (I used the search hashtag ‘dungeon’ to find it); so don’t be too impressed, I didn’t make it (bc lazy, duh).
Also congrats to Kebab and Nubbins for finally getting some (even if it was less than stellar); apparently that Hattie knows what she’s talking about!