Private Tales The Gardens of Narmaka

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Gerra

The Emperor
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A tall figure in a black tunic wandered the palace gardens alone. Although this section of the gardens sat upon one of the highest points on the royal ziggurat, large hedges provided privacy from onlookers. Kneeling down, Gerra, for it was he, caressed the petals of a purple lily, the sacred flower of Narmaka, goddess of the arts and beauty.

He would never see something so... fragile, so full of grace and pleasing to the eye in Molthal, where the very land burned with the eternal fires of Naft seeps and smoke from the infernos occluded the air, where the forges never slept and the sons of Menalus made constant war upon each other.

The Sultan of Annuakat sighed.
 
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Wrapping the fabric of her shawl around her back and shoulders, Achates found herself wandering. More often than not the girl found herself wandering the gardens of the palace. It reminded her of home, and it made her miss home. When the urge to run home became too strong, the flowers and the plants bore witness to her tears. Today though, she wasn’t missing home and she wasn’t on the verge of tears. Achates just wanted to find a moment of peace even if it was fleeting.

Wandering the garden, she found that she wasn’t alone. Her footsteps were quiet, and she stood some distance away from the Sultan. Garnet eyes watched him as he moved, she studied, but her studying became admiration. Achates caught herself and shook her head slightly and them moved forward to join him.

“Seems you had the same idea.” The elf smiled as looked down at him, then towards the flower. “It’s beautiful – one of my favorites.”

A soft sigh of content and she continued quietly, “Is everything okay Gerra?”

Gerra
 
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Gerra turned, surprise creeping onto his features, normally so stony and grim that they seemed carved of volcanic rock.

"Achates," he said, his voice a low rumble, like far distant thunder. "I did not know you stayed."

The half-giant paused, frowning at the flower, then his brow smoothed away. "I am glad."

He studied her with eyes the pallor of the sun, which seemed to glow softly with some inner light. A reminder, besides his unnatural height and fiery hair, that he was not fully human. Yet, as he looked at her, with ears shorter than most elves and features not quite so sharply drawn, he saw that neither was she.

Curious.

"Yes. I was just admiring the beauty of this place. This land. Where I come from, they do not have such flowers."

And if they did, the denizens of Molthal would not appreciate them.

"You see the crimson threads inside them, like tongues? They pluck them to make spice." He held the flower up to his nose, careful not to break it from the stem. "Smells of honey, I think. And they say if you chew the stems you will get a mere taste of the ambrosia of the gods. Euphoria. Have you tried it?"
 
The sound of her name with his voice made her cheeks warm. It was subtle, came quickly and then disappeared. His attention on her made the small smile of hers grow just slightly. Nodding, she answered his rhetorical comment of her staying. There wasn't anywhere for her to really go at the moment, but he didn't need to know her excuse for staying. In truth, she found an empty and sad feeling that burrowed into her chest at the thought of leaving.

Again, he didn't need to know that.

He continued pointing out the flower. A mention of things such as this not growing where he was from, she nodded. There were flowers and beautiful fauna from where she was from and she wondered if she would ever be able to go back.

That sadness appeared again, but she quickly dismissed it when she looked from the flower to Gerra. The warmth in her face returned and she shook her head.

"No, I've never tasted anything that could be considered close to euphoria." she smiled and looked to the flower. Kneeling down beside him she was able to see what he had described of the flower.

"You sound like an expert, have you tasted it?" she paused and looked at him with a smile. "have you tasted this euphoria?"
 
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"No."

In between stamping out pockets of resistance, reining in the nobility and the Abtati, and restoring the city, he had had very little time to himself. He did not wonder now why his father had seemed to spend so many hours alone. The burden of rule was a heavy one and not so easily delegated upon others.

He looked at her as she kneeled next to him, so close that they were almost touching, wondering whether it was truly fate that had led their paths to cross, or if she yet had hidden designs. Ah. But there he went again. Always affairs of state, pressing on the mind.

Did he not deserve some brief moment of peace? What did it matter if he gained the whole world, but could not enjoy a moment of its beauty?

His eyes lingered on hers, on depths of a deep and dark red, like the waning Pneria in winter.

Gently, he plucked the flower free and offered it to her.

"Would you try it with me?"
 
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His answer was flat, and she nodded almost understanding why his answer was no. Parts of him reminded her of her father. They both always put their work first and she the thought made her sigh softly, but her smile didn’t falter. Staring at the flower she was curious about him picking it. Gerra was so delicate with the plant and then he suddenly pulled it and handed it towards her.

No one had given her flower before, if this could be considered that.

Looking at the flower she paused for a minute and listened to his request. She took to the flower and examined it and inhaled the scent. It was a magical smell and it held her attention until she remembered he had asked her a question.

A finger brushed aside some of her loose hair behind her ear and she nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do it with you.” Her smile remained on her face as she nodded once more to emphasize her answer.

Achates glanced about, she wondered if they were going to remain in the secluded garden or if they were going to relocate. Either way, she wanted him to be comfortable. There was so much on his shoulders and the elf wondered how much more she could do to help.

Gerra
 
The Sultan saw her look as she glanced beyond him, then around them, and guessed her thoughts.

“There are guards outside, but they will not trouble us here.”

He plucked another flower, sniffed it, then placed it in his mouth, stem and all, and began to chew, grinding it between his teeth. The crushed stem secreted a juice that filled his mouth with a taste that was surprisingly sweet. He swallowed, then wondered how long it would take before he began to feel the effects, but his unspoken question was immediately answered. A floating sensation started in his toes and fingers, then spread to the rest of his body. He had never lain in water and floated upon his back, for he could not swim and had been told it might kill him, but he imagined this is what it would feel like to lay at peace in a placid sea.

An overwhelming sense of contentment and joy flooded him and his heart began to speed up.

Was this…. Happiness?

He tried to frown, but could not. Instead, he smiled. It grew upon his face, spreading like the warmth of a fire, until he grinned broadly. Impulsively, he took one of Achates’ slender hands in his and the touch was such an otherworldly feeling that he began to laugh.
 
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Nervous at first, she watched him, she wanted to see what the reaction was if there was one physically. Eyes widened as the reaction was nearly instant and then a smile crossed her face. She tried to think of a time she had seen the large man have a genuine smile on his face. The world weighed upon his shoulders, at least tonight for this moment he would be weightless.

Before she could partake in her own flower, she felt his strong hand grasp her own hand. Physical touch felt so foreign for her, especially with someone of the opposite gender. The more she thought she figured it was a long time since someone even held her. There was a pang of sadness as she realized how alone she usually was, but then a glance towards the man’s jovial mood – brightened her up.

Achates followed suite and chewed the flower, she tasted the sweetness and exhaled. The affects were instant, and she felt suddenly light on her feet. A smile spread across her face as she laughed at the situation for the most part. She joined him in the happiness, and she stared admiring him, she didn’t hide her stare, because there was no reason to.

“Your smile, I like it.”

Gerra
 
Her laugh. Her smile. The way she stared up at him with eyes red as rose petals. The way her cheeks, weathered by the sun, flushed. The way stray strands of hair wisped across her face. It all seemed so perfect. A moment in time that he wished could be frozen forever. Had he a painter’s skills he might capture this in oil on canvas, but he had only the hands of an iron wright.

Gerra reached out a hand and touched her cheek, so gently, as if he handled porcelain, afraid it might shatter in his grip.

Like so much else.

But no. She only looked at him, with that same expression of naivety, but he could see past it to the wolvish hunger that lurked beneath. A deeper, darker desire within her that leaped, wild and boundless, at the edges of civilization and conscious thought. It delighted him.

He drew her into a kiss that lasted long and lingered, breathless on the grass.
 
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As the man stared at her, Achates felt herself vulnerable. It felt as if he could see who she really was and what more lingered in her being. No one knew of her secrets, but she felt as if he could see them. She couldn’t deny anything to him now. His warm touch caressed her face, no one had ever touched her like this. The rapid beating of her heart crashed against her chest as she inhaled slightly trying to get a grip of her body’s involuntary reactions to him.

What was he doing and how was he doing this to her? As much as it confused her, she didn’t want it to stop – it felt nice to be touched like this. Achates felt precious for just a moment and when she had settled into his touch, Gerra kissed her. Her eyes widened as his lips pressed against hers instantly enjoying the feeling, but surprised it happened. In her mind she had wanted this, she wanted to know what it felt like to kiss him and it was as if the man had read her mind.

Leaning into the kiss, her eyes closed as she rested a hand gently on his chest while the soft touch of the elf’s fingertips caressed the lining of his chin and cheek. Achates melted into the kiss, a part of her never wanted it to end – she wanted to feel this feeling with him for as long as she could. Her hand moved from his face to the back of his neck, trying to draw him closer to her, to keep him closer to her, and to let her remain in this paradise with him.

Gerra
 
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The soft caress of her fingertips across his cheek turned fierce as she pulled him closer, hand on his chest. The hungriness of her kiss ignited his brain and he felt a need awaken in his soul. A need to have her. Now. Roving hands ran along her back, tracing the curvature of her spine through her shirt.

The sensation of their touch under the effects of the lily was like nothing Gerra had ever experienced.

An amazing energy came over him. Doubt no longer existed. Grief held no grip on him.

All that mattered was this moment, with his fingers entwined in Achates’ dark tresses, feeling the swell of her chest against him as they held each other tightly. He pulled her into his lap, desperate for her touch, and hurriedly stripped off his tunic, revealing rippling muscles beneath, hard and smooth and dark as volcanic glass.
 
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Achates wondered at this point if it was just the drugs talking or her own desires for the man fueled her. Was her admiration more than that? She had often daydreamed about what it would be like to feel him against her like this, but the woman brushed the daydreams off as a schoolgirl crush.

Yet, something about this man made her feel alive. His touch electrifying, it made her want more. Fingers threaded through her dark hair and a sensation coursed through her frame. Where her hands touched fabric, she soon felt the warmth of his skin. Achates grazed the accents of his chest with the lightest touch of her fingers and as much as she didn’t want to give into the need for air, the kiss broke.

She remained close, her nose then her cheek caressing his for just a moment. As soon as the kiss broke, she leaned in again pressing for the exchange to continue. The shawl that wrapped around her shoulders and back fell behind her along with the thin tank top it was covering. Slender arms soon rested on his shoulders as she wrapped herself around him keeping him as close she could, wanting to keep herself hidden, wanting him and only him to see her.
 
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The air shimmered with the heat of the summer sun. Though the yellow disk drifted toward the horizon the faces of the twin moons had yet to rise. Thus, alone did the sun look down upon the ziggurat of Annuakat and the gardens which sat upon its many steps, so lush and cool and green. Protected from his scorching wrath by the goddess of beauty. Two mortals lay upon the grass, their passion evoking something within him as he watch them so far below. Memories returned of a time when he too had felt something other than hatred for this land which millennia ago had once called him god. He saw deities, those still so closely wound up in the affairs of the mortals, and they also watched the gardens. He wondered why they lingered, what drew such rapt attention?

Was it jealousy?

But below, Gerra had no thoughts that dwelt on gods nor the celestial bodies. For once, he was utterly immersed in the present, drowning in the throes of some strange madness and the more he drank of it the more he found he thirsted, unsatisfied desire. It was not the novelty of the act but perhaps the novelty of the setting or newness of the station. What had once been done to thwart was now done of his own free will. A free will not bound, but limitless; confined only within the limitations of his own imagination, which now spun like an eagle or a falcon diving from the air to skim the surface of the water with talons.

Linen fabric tore apart beneath his hands as he sought to remove all separation from him in the object of his desire. Questing fingers dove down, softly, slowly, and with a dichotomy that tottered between tenderness and violence. All thoughts upon ruby eyes and dark chestnut hair and the suppleness of skin which grew slick with sweat, taught muscles writhing beneath him as he bore her down to the grass and all became a blur of ecstasy.
 
Never had she felt like this before, to offer up everything that she was to someone was an exhilarating release. As his being melded with her she forgot all words and only knew his name as she repeated it over again in whispers shared only between them. Fingers pressed into flesh as she held onto him never wanting to release him back into the fires of battle. Here with her, he was safe, and she wanted to forever keep him that way. He in this moment became precious to her.

They moved in rhythm together, never missing a step. Achates felt her body tense and relax constantly – nothing had ever felt so freeing. This was hers; it was all hers no one could ruin it, not even her past or what she truly was. Eyes looked up at him, he was all that mattered in this moment and their connection.

Her chest rose and fell as she ran her fingertips along the edge of his face, hair clung to her face as she leaned up and pressed her lips against is once more and sighed heavily. It was an odd mixture of tired and an energy of not wanting to stop. The elf drew her King closer, falling into a silence more perfect than the tenderness they shared. As she laid there, fingers moved through his hair gently and lovingly. Eyes never leaving his as she smiled at him, a gentle smile she would only ever reserve for him.
 
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The world stopped spinning. Colors and shapes took on their natural forms. The ecstasy slowly faded. And Gerra was left with a strange sense of melancholy as he lay panting, drenched in sweat. He rolled over onto his back in the grass and stared up at the blue sky.

He had a feeling as if he had lost something of great value. It made him terribly sad.

Achates combed her fingers through his hair as he lay frowning up at the cloudless day, the sun warming their naked bodies.

"Hm," he grunted, wondering if this valley was the price for such a peak. At last, Gerra licked his lips and turned to look at her.

"It's hot, you'll burn. Let's go inside."

He got to his feet and gathered his clothes. This particular garden had direct access to his personal chambers. It made him wonder how purposeful her stroll through the garden had been. As suspicions once more clouded his thoughts, Gerra walked past a guard, heedless of his own undressed state, and into the cooler air of his personal chamber.
 
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As wonderful feelings continued to surge through her, she rode the high until it suddenly crashed. The half elven girl laid on her back and sighed softly, silence was between them and it was peaceful for that instance. His response on the other hand was not what she expected. Her mind and his touch lead her to believe there was tenderness to follow, but he grew cold, colder than before.

Achates felt exposed and as he stood, she covered herself with the shawl she wore and the rags of her clothing. She had sat up and watched him walk away, part of her felt ashamed, foolish even. How could she have let herself fall into the lustful desires she tried so hard to keep locked away, why did she show him that vulnerability? Several questions spiraled in her mind as she choked back tears. No, she couldn’t let him see this, he had seen enough of her.

Lifting her head, she looked up and exhaled deeply. The elf gathered her composure and stood up, keeping herself hidden from the eyes of the guards as she followed Gerra. Doing her best to show his words and his coldness didn’t bother her, she adjusted the rags of clothing and shawl, so it didn’t look as bad as it probably did. Her voice soft, as she tried to hide her true feelings on how he was acting. “Thank you for the concern, sunburns are unpleasant for more reasons than most realize.” Of course, she was speaking on transforming with tender skin, she shuddered at the thought of the tight burnt skin trying to stretch as bones broke and reformed.

“Um, that was pleasant.” A shy awkwardness came over her as she didn’t look at him, knowing if she did, she didn’t know if she could stay as together as she was. Why was her heart feeling tight as she stood near him? What did it mean?
 
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That was pleasant.

Why did the words ring so stiff and hollow in his ears? Empty.

He cast a sidelong glance at her, then froze. She stood there, naked, holding together bits of her torn clothing to cover herself. Clothing he had so viciously ripped off her.

Was this who he was, a dispassionate ruler who used up women and then tossed them aside when his desires were sated? A tyrant of capricious appetites.

Have I become my father?

No.

That could not be his fate.

The half-giant’s gaze softened.

“Oh Achates.”

His chest tightened and he could see the hurt in her eyes now, clear and shimmering.

Alone together in the boudoir, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a gentle embrace.

“I am a man of many vices. Forgive me.”

Then he lifted her onto the bed and lay down beside her, still cradling her.

“I have never known anything like this.”
 
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Her attention remained on the ground as she spoke and let her words hang in the air. In all honesty she didn’t expect a response from the Sultan, she was of no importance and if this amounted to anything – she knew her feelings were more than likely going to be one sided. Saying thank you felt awkward, but what she had said was even more so – either way there was nothing she could say here to make things better for her.

Suddenly, he pulled her into him, and she was taken surprise by his response. This was nothing like she had expected and a part of her didn’t know what to do next. The sound of his voice saying her name made her forget for a moment her doubts and uncertainties. The feeling she felt in the garden returned as she let herself melt into him.

Gerra was much bigger than the half elf as he scooped her up carefully. Still clinging to the clothing scraps, she found herself in the large soft bed – with her lover beside her. A smile pulled at her lips as she nodded agreeing with his statement. “I know how you feel.” Achates paused and relaxed. “My heart races and I can’t help but smile…I like being by you – it makes me feel…”

Slender fingers ran along the man’s jaw, feeling the definition of the line, it was strong – like he was, and she leaned forward and brushed her lips gently, briefly against his. “I feel like this is where I’m supposed to be.”
 
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Those tender fingertips ran tenderly along Gerra's face, a face which looked almost as though it had been carved of dark stone, edges rough and hard. He traced hers in turn, drawing a finger along the point of her ear, tracing it down the softness of her cheeks, brushing her lips with his thumb.

"I have never been with someone who..."

Who what? Who was not paid? Who was not a slave? If he said those words he did not know what she might think of him.

"Who wanted to stay."

His hand continued to explore her, following the line of her neck and up over her arm, fingers trailing across her side and over the curve of her hip to her thighs, remembering the way they'd tried to wrap around him in the grass.

The hollowness seemed a passing thing that faded with company, though he could not rid himself of it entirely. It was a part of him.

Gerra pressed his lips against hers, then against her cheek, then her ear. Simply enjoying her presence as they lay in the comfort of the bed.
 
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Trust and Love go hand in hand – both get you killed, never fall in love, never trust.
Achates relaxed, feeling the gentleness the half giant was giving her. Was this who Gerra really was? Was this who he wanted to show her? Her heart melted, opening up to him. He laid close to her and her soft lips kissed gently at his neck as she nuzzled against his frame. He was strong and hard to read, but in this moment she felt like she understood him and in turn he understood her.

Her father’s words echoed in her mind and continued to get louder as she tried to focus on where she was at the moment. It was as if her time away from the Order was finally making its way back to him and now he was haunting her. She pulled back slightly to look at him with a smile. The thoughts of her father faded as she took in this small moment of happiness and peace.

“I know the feeling.” She nodded softly as she remembered an old friend who liked to disappear. She had just seen him on the battlefield – he was always a lost soul, but she learned a long time ago she couldn’t fix that. She cared for him, but not like the man she was with now. “It’s nice not being alone for once.” She paused thought quietly to herself for a moment, then finished.

“I want to stay…with you. For as long as you want me to, I’m quite fond of you, Gerra.”
 
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"And I you."

He lay there, holding her, for some time before he spoke again.

"Why do you want to stay? So many believe I am a terror, a menace. Why not you?"
 
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Achates let her weight lean into him, for once she let someone else support her. His question was curious, and she had never actually thought about it. Biting her lower lip, she contemplated and then answered.

“I don’t think you’re any of those things.” Tilting her head, she looked towards him, “I admire you. You’re driven and I know that deep down you have the people’s best interest at heart.”

Another pause and she exhaled softly, “It feels right to be at your side Gerra. I trust you and I want to help you accomplish your goal and your dreams. I hope that’s okay.”
 
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"It is..."

He stroked her shoulder softly in thought.

"You see these things about me... and yet I hardly know anything about you. How is that possible? Tell me about you. I want to know."
 
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His touch was soft despite the roughness of his hands. It relaxed her and she was able to organize her thoughts. He knew her for the most part physically, but Gerra was right. She wasn’t very open about anything mostly because there was never anyone this close to her.

“Well,” She paused and decided to try and explain herself the best she could.

“My uh dad runs a secret order of monster hunters…” She tried her hardest to try and find something of interest, but most of it was just somewhat sad in the end. “Um. Oh, because of my dad being the head of this order, I work missions for the order, but uh something…has taken me from working missions for him and the order.”

There was so much more she could say, but she was terrified, what if he rejected her? A force smile and she looked at him. “I want to know more about you.”
 
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Gerra's brow shot up. An order of monster hunters? So had she come to Annuakat on a mission? Her answer only left more questions and he couldn't help but feel...

"In a moment."

He paused, hands gently playing with her hair.

"There's something you aren't telling me."