The Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh

by Nightsister (sop2nd@yahoo.com)

Archive: M_A, all others please ask first

Category: Q/O, AR, PWP

Rating: Part 1: G, Part 2: NC-17

Warnings: none

Summary: The Pharaoh rewards his faithful servant

Feedback: sop2nd@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: New names, same people. The characters belong to Lucasfilm.

Notes: Another fic inspired by JediChristy's Egyptian AU post, although I don't think this is what she had in mind. Sincerest apologies to Lynda Robinson, whose fabulous Lord Meren is the real Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh. I've always had a burning desire to slash him, and this is my opportunity, I guess. <g> I also believe this is my first public offering of anything stronger than a PG-13 rating. Huh.

Thanks to: Knight Typo Killer and majilique, betas magnifique. All errors are mine.

Part One:

Quirasi rushed through the cool, faience-tiled corridors of the great palace of Thebes, cursing the fact that he was late. Pharaoh naturally expected punctuality from all of his courtiers, even the ones who actually had tasks to perform. It hadn't helped that he'd had to go home to dress for court to be painted and bejeweled, with lapis lazuli around his neck and gold bands around his wrists and his powerful arms. His crisp linen kilt hung loosely from his hips, held together by a belt made of more gold and turquoise. A ceremonial, mostly useless, dagger with a carnelian hilt slapped his thigh as he walked, and his court wig felt unreasonably heavy on his head.

He was operating on pure adrenaline now, having spent the night on board his ship, traveling from the great northern city of Memphis, tracking down a ruthless slave trader.

The antechamber was empty except for the king's guards, and Penaka, the fearsome Nubian captain of the guards, was waiting for him. "My lord."

Quirasi nodded and took a deep breath, feeling all of his 34 years, and the energy drained from his ka as he stepped closer to the room.

The guard threw the great doors open and followed behind the Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh, Quirasi's official title, as they walked into a great room filled with blinding gold light.

The Great Hall of the Golden Horus, the King's general meeting chamber, was filled with the noblest of courtiers -- ministers, government officials, high priests, and military officers -- all wearing enough carnelian, turquoise, electrum, lapis lazuli and gold to feed the Royal army for a year. Quirasi pointedly ignored them, and concentrated on the boy -- no, the man -- sitting on a gold and ivory chair at the far end of the room. He gave a small, inaudible gasp. Obisenankhmun, Son of Horus, Beloved of Ra, wearing the double crowns of the Lower and Upper Lands on his head, and holding the flail and crook in his hands, was completely covered in gold. Gold powder burnished his skin, large gold hoops hung from his ears, and wide gold bands encircled his firm, strong arms. His feet were clad in lapis-encrusted gold sandals, and even his face was shining with gold, except for around his eyes -- his remarkable, ancient eyes, changeable as the mighty Nile itself -- which were ringed in kohl.

After regaining his composure, Quirasi found Mace, the Pharaoh's vizier, and gave him an apologetic look. Mace gave him a sympathetic glance of his own, and stepped to the dais next to the King.

"Great Horus, Leader of the Two Lands, Beloved of Ra, King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Khepanhkramose Obisenankhmun, given eternal life, commands all to leave him... except Lord Quirasi."

The Hall erupted with subdued murmuring, and Quirasi groaned inwardly. This would start the palace wags gossiping like nothing else could. What made it even worse was the King himself jumping down off his throne to walk toward his agent before the last of the courtiers departed. Quirasi only hoped that his Majesty would have the foresight to not touch him in public.

No such luck. As Quirasi dropped to his knees, his forehead touching the floor, he felt the slightly warm pressure of Pharaoh's golden hand on his shoulder. Quirasi glanced up quickly, temporarily forgetting himself as he stared at the King in shock. Even without looking back, he knew that the doors were still open, and that people were still curiously milling about the doorway, staring at them.

Obisenankhmun saw the alarmed look on his agent's face and snatched his hand back quickly, but the damage had been done. He had shown favor.

But he was still King.

"Rise, my friend," he commanded loudly, pulling himself up to his previously haughty demeanor. "And walk with me." He led the way outside to the Royal garden, with Penaka like a silent shadow following behind, ever present.

They walked through the shaded walkway under the date palms until they reached the small lake in the middle of the garden, and Quirasi marveled how the King carried himself, as if none of the heavy metal and stones weighed him down. Obisenankhmun used to complain of the weight of his double crown, but that was over a year ago, when he had first ascended the throne after the death of his father, the great Pharaoh Tuyod. He now walked with grace and ease, as if he were only wearing a simple kilt, and not the burdens of kingship.

"What is the news from Memphis? Was your mission successful?"

"Thy Majesty is wisdom everlasting. It was as the Divine One predicted."

Obisenankhmun gulped, and looked more like the actual boy of eighteen that he was, and not the ruler of a vast Empire. "So it was the Greek?"

Quirasi stopped and turned to face his King. "Yes, Majesty. It was Xanatos." His face turned hard at the memory. "But he is now dead."

"By your hand?"

"By my own, yes."

Obisenankhmun seemed to ponder that fact a moment. "You are the most trusted and clever of all my agents, Lord Quirasi," he finally said. A small admission, to be sure, but coming from the King, it was more than enough. He made a quick gesture with his head, and Penaka came forward, drawing a long stool from behind a large palm tree, two cups, and a pitcher filled with cool water. "Sit."

Quirasi did as he was bidden, although he made sure he sat far enough away from Pharaoh so as not to get any gold dust on his white kilt. That would be all he needed.

For an instant Obisenankhmun's face flashed his hurt at the other man's distance, but after a while, he nodded in agreement. Penaka was undeniably loyal, but the garden walls were not so high that others could not climb over for a look, if they so desired. He took the cup offered from his guard, and drank in one great gulp. "I feel as if I should reward you somehow," the king mused. "I could give you a new ship, but your current one is almost as fast as mine. Perhaps I should give you a new, slower, ship." His face broke into a teasing grin, and looked painfully young because of it.

"Thy Majesty is too generous," Quirasi replied respectfully. "Your satisfaction is reward enough."

"Are you telling me what to do, Lord Quirasi?" asked Obisenankhmun coolly, although his gray eyes sparkled with amusement. He held up a hand as the other man opened his mouth to protest. "No, I don't want to hear it. I will think of an appropriate reward, and send it to your home later."

With that, the young king stood, and Quirasi once again dropped to his knees. "The Divine One is munificent," he said. "The Son of Ra is truly blessed, I-"

Since they were alone, except for the faithful Penaka, Obisenankhmun dared to touch his agent again. "Oh, rise, my Eyes and Ears," he said, a bit impatiently. "We're alone."

"Yes, Majesty."

"Now leave me."

"Yes, Majesty."

Quirasi left the Pharaoh by the lake and slipped out through the garden's gates, wishing to avoid going through the palace again. The last thing he wanted to do was face the bombardment of questions from the curious and the rude.

Quirasi's chariot thundered through the open gates guarding his compound, and he was finally able to relax. Handing the reins over to one of his grooms, he wearily but purposefully strode into his house, through the hushed hallway to his main room, where an energetic fourteen year-old girl -- his daughter Aminefer -- assaulted him.

"Father!" She threw herself into his waiting arms. "When Kiya told me you had gone to court, I feared the worst."

"My little goddess, I've missed you," Quirasi said warmly. "But I'm fine, really." He stopped, and looked at his daughter. "What do you mean, feared the worst? What has Kiya said to you?"

Aminefer stared at him, and he could see her clever heart looking for a way out of her predicament. "He said nothing," she said at last. "At least nothing I didn't already know."

Quirasi cursed the name of the captain of his guards. "Kiya will pay for this. It is unconscionable for him to tell you about my official affairs. I'll slice him into a dozen pieces and feed him to the beasts in the Nile, I-"

"It's not Kiya's fault!" Aminefer broke in. She smiled sheepishly. "I-I was passing by your door one night last month, and I couldn't help but overhear..." her smile faded as she faced her father's astonished face. ''I am allowed to be concerned for you, Father, and rest assured I didn't actually do anything but merely wait for you to come home," she said haughtily. She shook her head. "But come, dinner is waiting, and I told the servants that you are not to be disturbed tonight, so all callers will be turned away. Will you please eat?"

Quirasi's wrath at the actions of his only child changed to grudging respect and affectionate warmth, as he realized that Aminefer was turning into a fine, intelligent young woman, capable of running a busy household by herself. Her mother would have been proud. He sighed, briefly wishing that Shmi-Hathor were alive to see this transformation. "Thank you, daughter, but I'm exhausted. Perhaps just a bite of bread, and some beer. By Amun, I could fall asleep on my feet."

The girl immediately looked concerned, and almost dragged him into his bedroom. "I'll get Mal to draw you a cool bath, and I'll bring you something stronger than beer," she instructed. She braved giving her father a bossy little push. "Go, and allow me to care for you."

"Dear princess, what would I do without you?" Quirasi said, smiling to himself. He started undressing as soon as Aminefer shut the door, and was so tired that he didn't even look up as it opened again. Thankfully, it was only Mal, his bodyservant, bringing in large jugs filled with water. He deftly filled the gold tub in the small back room behind the bed, and departed, bowing. He had been with his master long enough to know when Quirasi wished to be alone.

When Quirasi stepped out of his bath sometime later, and into a simple night kilt, he found a pitcher of wine and a cup on his ebony desk, with a note from Aminefer, saying she had gone to bed. He filled a cup with the sweet, tangy wine and downed it quickly. By the gods, all Quirasi wanted to do was sleep...

Part Two:

The stealthy movement in the semi-dark room brought Quirasi to wakefulness immediately, but he still wasn't quick enough. He suddenly felt the weight of a warm body on his chest, trapping his hands to his hips; strong hands held down his shoulders.

"Not a word, not a sound," a voice rumbled softly, and Quirasi, so used to obeying this particular voice, only sighed, relaxing completely.

The pressure on his chest receded, as his shadowy lover moved down to straddle his thighs. Quirasi felt the sudden coolness as his night kilt was unbuckled, contrasting with the wet heat of the other man's mouth on his nipples, all of it making him moan involuntarily.

"Shhh, be quiet. I will not be disobeyed."

Quirasi gave a little whimper in response, and could feel the other man smiling against his chest. Then that clever mouth moved downward, leaving seductive little kisses past his sternum, stopping briefly to explore his navel, before following the dark line of hair on his abdomen down to the coarser hairs surrounding his heavy, throbbing cock.

The other man, now sitting on Quirasi's knees, laced their hands together. "I've been wanting you for weeks," he said, a bit plaintively. "What irony is this, that for you to fulfill your duties to me, we must be separated?" When Quirasi remained silent, Obisenankhmun bounced lightly on his legs. "Speak, you jackal."

"You should not have come," Quirasi said gently but urgently, squeezing their fingers together tightly. "To jeopardize your safety for me-"

"No man commands my majesty," Pharaoh said sternly, squeezing back. "Not even you, my love." He leaned down to nuzzle his lover's hardening shaft. "And I wanted to do this -- I promised you a reward." He looked up, his face adorably pained. "Or am I not reward enough for you?"

"Majesty, I- ohhh..." All cohesive thought fled the Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh, as Obisenankhmun swallowed his lover's cock whole. Quirasi's heart leapt to his throat; they had been together for two years now, but every time the king touched him, it felt like his ka, his very essence, was on fire.

Pharaoh expertly worked his tongue around Quirasi's hard length, playfully tugging on the foreskin with his lips, massaging that most sensitive spot, the underside of the purpling crown, even using his warm hands to fondle the heavy sacs underneath. Obisenankhmun worked his lover almost to the point of release, feeling the larger man writhe silently beneath him, until he felt the stiffening of Quirasi's body, indicating his approaching orgasm. Only then did the king stop, and move himself up to face him.

"Prepare me," he said, breathing hard. "I want you inside me. Make love to me, Qui."

Those words, heard many times before tonight, never failed to send a shiver of excitement through Quirasi. He tried hard to remember that Obisenankhmun was merely a man -- indeed, the king ordered him to call him 'Obi' in bed -- but knowing that his exciting young lover was also the ruler of the strongest Empire in the world thrilled (and terrified, if Maat be known) Quirasi to no end. But Obisenankhmun expected obedience, especially from his agent, the Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh.

"How?" Quirasi whispered. "How shall I take you?"

Obisenankhmun released his hold on the older man as he climbed off the bed. He stood naked in the weak moonlight, wigless, hands on hips, and even without his jewels, crowns, and gold dust, looked absolutely stunning.

"I will be on my knees," he stated. Even simply as Quirasi's lover, he had a presence that filled the room.

Quirasi also got off the bed, and allowed Obisenankhmun to get in first, on all fours. Quirasi had never replaced the bed from when his wife died ten years ago, so there was still room enough for two. He thanked the gods daily for small foresights.

Quirasi climbed back in bed, positioning himself behind his lover, and carefully spread the soft mounds of flesh apart to uncover the young man's entrance. That no one else had access to this paradise made Quirasi's head swim, but before he let that realization overwhelm him, he plunged in to lave at the tight opening, caressing the skin lovingly with his lips and tongue, tasting sweetness...almond oil.

"You've prepared yourself already," he murmured, between strokes.

"I wanted... to surprise you... Ohhh..." Obisenankhmun arched and ground back hard into his lover's face, losing himself in the sensation of Quirasi's hot tongue. "I love this... I love you..."

Quirasi closed his eyes, his ka crying out for his young lover. Pharaoh led a lonely life inside his palace; it was the highest of honors to pleasure him this way, and it pained the older man greatly that their love had to remain a dark secret. For Quirasi would climb to the top of Khufu's tomb and shout out his love for his king, this man, if he could. Sometimes, when his mood was especially mournful, Quirasi longed to even cast aside his position as the Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh, if he could exchange it for an openly accepted position as one of the king's concubines. But now he was content with their occasional nights together, although he always went to the palace, and never the other way around. Until tonight...

Quirasi stopped his ministrations and sat up on his knees, holding his achingly hard shaft in his hands. "Obi, I-"

"Oh, yes, Qui." Obisenankhmun turned a bit to face his lover, and the need in his voice was unmistakable. "Please. Hurry."

Needing no more urging, Quirasi positioned himself directly behind his lover's opening and slowly pushed his way in. The tight heat of Obisenankhmun's body made it almost impossible for the older man to control his desire, and it took all of Quirasi's willpower to not start rutting wildly, like an animal.

But Obisenankhmun wanted no such willpower. He ground back as he had before, impaling himself on his lover, then pulled away, almost uncoupling them. Quirasi got the point immediately. Steadying Obisenankhmun with his large, strong hands, Quirasi started driving into his lover, making him whimper with every powerful thrust. He leaned down to whisper in Obisenankhmun's ear.

"You drive me to madness," he said breathlessly. "My body aches for you, for your sweet, tight, entrance. No one makes me feel the way you do... I love you..."

Obisenankhmun let out a muted gasp. "You feel so wonderful," he sobbed. "Ohhh, I've missed you so much." He let his head hang down between his shoulders and grasped the edge of the bed, his knuckles gleaming white against the dark, exotic wood.

Both men fell silent as they moved against each other, straining for release. Suddenly Obisenankhmun tensed and arched his back, crying out hoarsely, the muscles around his opening constricting around his lover. Quirasi, feeling those muscles clench around him, gave a deep, shuddering groan, and emptied his seed deep into his lover's body.

They remained locked in place for what seemed to be an eternity, as the great waves of ecstasy rolled through them like the Nile during the spring floods, powerfully dark and inevitable.

Finally, Quirasi rolled off his lover and gathered him close, not caring that the king's seed was staining the bed linens, and leaving a damp spot in the middle, besides. It was worth it. Every danger they risked seemed worth it at times like this, after lovemaking, when they were damp and sated.

They lay in companionable silence for a while, until Obisenankhmun raised his head. "Qui?"

"Hmmm?"

"I forgot I wasn't supposed to touch you in public." His voice sounded impossibly small. "I endangered your life... I'm sorry."

Quirasi just stared into the darkness, stunned. He had never heard Pharaoh apologize before, to anyone; it was unthinkable.

"The life of a courtier is fraught with pitfalls, Obi," he said, after he had found his voice. "My enemies will always be my enemies, and will always find cause to hate me."

"You don't want to accept my apology, do you?" Obisenankhmun was silent for a minute. "Or am I not supposed to apologize at all?"

"Thy Majesty is wise," Quirasi said, smiling, and then added, "It is difficult to separate the public life from the private one. For instance," he looked down sternly at his king, "you should not have come to my home. It is far too dangerous."

Obisenankhmun smiled smugly. "Penaka is outside," he said. "And I wanted to come to you, instead of making you come to me all the time." He sighed. "I also had to get away from the palace. Sirimaatamun is with child, and she grows more intolerable everyday."

Quirasi thought for a moment, trying to decide how to take the news. "My congratulations on this joyful event," he lied. The Great Royal Wife apparently had a deep-seated and inexplicable hatred for him, although Obisenankhmun confidently assured him that she didn't know of their affair.

"Well, this means that she's going to her palace in Amarna, now, until after the child is born," Obisenankhmun sighed happily. "So I want you to be available for me whenever I call for you -- or else you will force me to come seek you out. Is that understood?"

"Thy Majesty's word is law," Quirasi replied, his face glowing with contentment. This meant they could be together, untroubled, for at least a year, until the child was old enough to make the journey back to Thebes. He leaned in closer, to capture his lover's lips. "I love you, my king."

Obisenankhmun snuggled deeper into his lover's warm embrace, reaching up to caress a smooth, strong jaw. "And I love you, my Quirasi."

THE END