forum The Jester and the Queen (Closed)

Started December 26, 2022 by @emilyevewrites group

tune

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…)