Year One in the Reign of Obisenankhamun

by Nightsister (sop2nd@yahoo.com)

Archive: M_A, all others please ask first

Category: Q/O, AR, chan

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: none

Summary: How does a man get the Pharaoh as his lover?

Feedback: sop2nd@yahoo.com

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

Notes: The first story was supposed to be a "one-off" fic, I swear, but I still had questions. Once again, my deepest, sincerest apologies to Lynda Robinson, whose sexy Lord Meren is the real Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh. Oh, and if anybody wants a visual of the Judgment that Quirasi fears, I have a scan (of a bookmark, no less) entitled The Last Judgment of Hunefer, which shows everything: the scales; Anubis; the heart being weighed against Maat, the feather of Truth; and Ammut, waiting to devour the sinners. (Hunefer is a good guy -- he passes. <g&rt;)

Thanks: As always, to majilique and Knight Typo Killer, the best betas.

Special note: I'm putting in the chan designation because Obisenankhamun is seventeen here, but he's also the new ruler of the Egyptian Empire. Adult? Child? What do you think?

Either way, Quirasi knew he was damned.

If he acted and was rebuffed, he would surely be executed. That was not what frightened him. The real horror was that his body would be then thrown into the desert, like so much refuse, food for the hyenas and the other carrion eaters. His body would be destroyed; his ka forever condemned, roaming the corporeal world with the other ghosts, wailing his shame and torment in the vast desert to the West.

Or worse, he would be properly interred, only to face Anubis at the portal to the Underworld. He would be deemed an evildoer, and Ammut, the Devouress, would eat his black, sinful heart...

Destroying him completely. Oblivion.

But if he didn't act, then this aching, this longing, would drive him insane.

Quirasi sighed, his brows knitting in consternation. By the wrath of Amun, he was a nobleman, and the Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh, not some lovesick pup. But still he continued to stare at the doorway separating him and the others with the Royal apartments, knowing that he was in there.

Suddenly, the wailing of the servants startled him out of his self-pity -- His Majesty, the great Pharaoh Tuyod, was dead. Now his son, Khepanhkramose Obisenankhamun, may he have wisdom, strength, and life eternal, was king.

Quirasi and a few select courtiers were dressed in their court attire, waiting in the inner hallway, while the lesser nobles and politicians anxiously gathered in the outer corridor. He walked over to Mace, Vizier to the old king and now to the new one, who was talking in hushed whispers to Yara, the Royal Treasurer.

"We need to get Obisenankhamun on the throne immediately," Mace was saying. "The Byblos emissary is due in Thebes next week. His Majesty must become accustomed to-" he saw the other man approaching and stopped. "Lord Quirasi," he said smoothly. "Just the man I wanted to see."

"Yes?" Quirasi asked, guardedly. Mace wasn't the Vizier for naught; he was craftier than a jackal, and just as dangerous if you crossed him.

"I want you to spend the time before the emissary's arrival next week with His Majesty, Obisenankhamun, may he be given life everlasting," Mace replied. "He's still only seventeen years old, and despite what his father, the Great One, believed, he has much to learn." The Vizier leaned in, and placed a strong hand on Quirasi's arm. "Please, old friend. The emissary comes at a most inopportune time. We must show him that Egypt remains a mighty force to be taken lightly, no matter who is on the throne. We are vulnerable, we-"

Quirasi sighed again, though inwardly this time. He supposed he should have seen this coming. "Please, Mace. I understand," he said. "I will serve my Pharaoh."

The Vizier nodded. "I knew you would," he said, enigmatically.

"But is a week enough?" Yara broke in, the protrusion in his long neck nervously bobbing up and down. "Those Byblos dogs are cunning."

Mace turned to the other man. "I deal with all foreign callers," he explained, somewhat exasperated. "If you spent more time at court, instead of tucked away in the Treasury, you would know that." He added, a bit more gently, "Pharaoh only needs to know how to wear the crown, and how to keep still. That boy fidgets too much."

"I can't help it if my job keeps me away from court," Yara muttered. "Quirasi is never at court; I don't hear him being berated. No, just me-"

"Be quiet, you goose," Quirasi scolded.

The three men turned as the doors suddenly flew open, and a young boy stepped out. It was Prince Anikaare-Set, brother to the new Pharaoh. He ran to Mace, flinging his arms around the other man tightly.

"There, there, little lion," Mace soothed, returning the embrace. "Your father is with his father, the great god Amun. He will have his peace, and see your mother again. All will be well."

"My brother wishes to see Lord Quirasi," Anikaare-Set said, half hidden in the folds of the Vizier's linen robe.

Mace looked over the boy's head at Quirasi. "Amun smiles on us," he said. "I will announce His Majesty's death, and you will go to the new king."

"And what of me?" Yara asked plaintively. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, go and hide in the gold," Quirasi retorted. He was in no mood to hear the Treasurer's complaints. He was the one heading toward the one man who had the power to completely annihilate him...

The same man with whom he was so desperately in love.

Quirasi walked up to the great double doors leading into the Royal apartments. As usual, Penaka, the Captain of the Guards was there, blocking the doorway.

His Majesty, may he be blessed with long life, has sent for me," Quirasi said.

The Nubian nodded and opened the doors. "He is in his personal suite."

Quirasi stepped inside and turned left, heading for Obisenankhamun's quarters. The new king would be moving into his father's apartments soon, but priests and servants occupied that space now, readying Tuyod's body for the journey to the place of Anubis: the mortuary.

There was another guard in front of the door to Obisenankhamun 's suite, but he banged his spear on the floor once, making a loud crack, and opened the door. Quirasi stepped in, his initial anxiety now masked by years of working and living in the court of the King of Egypt. He found Obisenankhamun talking quietly with Sirimaatamun, the new Great Royal Wife, but Pharaoh stopped as he approached.

"Leave me," Obisenankhamun said to the girl, as he nodded a greeting to the new caller.

"I wish to stay," Sirimaatamun pouted.

Obisenankhamun hesitated, and Quirasi almost stepped in, but the young man was apparently adjusting quickly to his new role. "Leave me," he said, more firmly this time.

Sirimaatamun got the point, although she pouted again. She left in a huff, and Quirasi frowned. The Great Royal Wife would have to be taught some new lessons as well.

As soon as the girl left, Obisenankhamun turned to his agent with a small smile. "I will make a great Pharaoh, will I not?" he joked, almost sadly. "My wife even dares to defies me."

"Thy Majesty will learn. The ways of women are not easily understood," Quirasi answered solemnly. When the king didn't answer immediately, he added, "The Vizier has asked me to refresh the Golden One on court etiquette. The emissary from Byblos comes within the next seven days-"

"I know when the emissary is coming, thank you," Obisenankhamun snapped. Then he sighed. "That's not why I called you in here. And now we started off badly. Damn that Siri, she vexes my ka more than anyone else I know."

Quirasi wasn't exactly sure what the king what talking about, so he stayed silent. After several minutes, it became obvious that Pharaoh wasn't going to start the conversation, and Quirasi's burning curiosity got the better of him.

"Majesty?"

Obisenankhamun was startled out of his reverie, but Quirasi proudly noted that the king hadn't shown it. Instead, Pharaoh rose from his ebony and gold couch and walked over to his agent.

Quirasi immediately sank to his knees and touched his forehead to the floor. He was half expecting the king to tell him to rise, but he didn't. He heard Obisenankhamun 's voice directly above him, but it was soft, almost hesitant.

"Quirasi- you were a loyal servant to my father. He loved and trusted you."

Quirasi sat up and looked at his king. Obisenankhamun seemed tentative... scared? What was he up to? "Thy Majesty's father was loved and trusted in return," he said carefully."

Obisenankhamun leaned in a little. "Did you love my father?" he asked.

"He treated me as a father treats his son, with dignity and respect. I served Toyud the Great to the best of my abilities." Quirasi couldn't help but add, "I will serve his son, Thy Majesty, in the same manner."

Obisenankhamun tilted his head, as if digesting that information. "You taught me almost everything I know," the king mused, as if talking to himself. "My memory of my first chariot ride was with you. You taught me to hunt and to fish, the ways of the court, you brought me my first concubine-"

Quirasi bit back a scowl. He needn't be reminded of Pharaoh's sexual exploits. Not now, anyway.

But he remained silent as Obisenankhamun went on. "I am Pharaoh," he said. "My word is law; I am the son of the great god Amun. I can destroy you with a wave of my hand-"

Quirasi jerked up at that last sentence. "With great power comes great responsibility and temperance, Thy-"

"I didn't say I would," Obisenankhamun cut in coldly, "I only said I could."

Quirasi bowed again. "Thy Majesty is wise," he said, humbled.

He remained in the kneeling position, until he felt soft, warm skin touch his shoulder. He strained his neck up to stare at the king.

"I am Pharaoh," Obisenankhamun said. "I can command anyone to do anything. I have armies willing to die for me. Women spread their legs for me at the slightest suggestion." His voice dropped to a small whisper. "But I want you to come to me of your own will, Lord Quirasi. I will not force you."

Quirasi scrambled to his feet. "Majesty?!"

But Obisenankhamun had turned away, and was walking back to his couch. "I am unaccustomed to making myself vulnerable. All of my life, I have been taught to appear invincible; you were even one of my teachers. One of my best teachers." He turned around to sit, but he was no longer king -- he was only a man, hurting. "But I can't pretend anymore," he said simply. "You've been more than a teacher to me, or the Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh, for longer than I care to admit. And it's not some childish infatuation," he added insistently. "I went through that period as well. I know what I'm feeling now is true."

Quirasi could only stare at his king. A large part of him, the well-trained courtier and agent, thought that this had to be some sort of awful, humiliating trick, to draw out his own confession. But the rest of him urgently wanted to believe, needed to believe, that Obisenankhamun wanted him.

That he loved him.

So Quirasi seized the opportunity, Ammut be damned. "I know my feelings as well, Majesty," he said gently. "And I was afraid-"

"Of this day?" Obisenankhamun cut in, harshly. His eyes narrowed to thin slits.

Quirasi nodded. "But not as you are expecting. I thought I would be the one to tell you of my feelings... my feelings for you." He walked up to the couch and knelt, daring to lower his head on the king's lap. "I've loved you longer than I care to admit, as well."

The king stiffened, but after a heartbeat, tentatively placed his hand on Quirasi's head, smoothing the court wig slowly.

"I've always known you cared for me," Obisenankhamun said, his voice hushed.

Quirasi raised his head and stared into Pharaoh's remarkable gray-green eyes. "I have always cared for you, yes. But I also love you." He added softly, "I want you."

Obisenankhamun responded to his servant's confession by lifting his face and bringing it toward him for a kiss. Quirasi's head swam with the knowledge that he was tasting the lips of the King of Egypt -- only wives had that privilege; not even the concubines had ever dared to kiss the man. Then Obisenankhamun shyly parted that wondrous mouth, and flicked out his warm, sweet tongue...

"Majesty," Quirasi groaned, leaning upward into Pharaoh's embrace.

"No. Call me Obi," the other man murmured. "I will be Obi, for you."

"Obi," Quirasi answered, pulling back. He let the word swirl around on tongue. "Tell me how I can please you, Obi."

To Quirasi's immense joy, the king blushed. "I- I don't know," he admitted. "I've never been with a man before. Surprise me."

Quirasi needed no more encouragement. "Lay back," he instructed, taking control of the situation. Obisenankhamun did as he was told, smiling expectantly, the trust filling his eyes. Quirasi sat on the couch between the other man's legs and unhooked the gold and electrum clasp holding the kilt together. Reverently opening the layers of linen, he held back a gasp as he saw his new lover's naked body for the first time. A heavy cock, nestled in tight bronze curls, jutted out between Pharaoh's lean but powerful thighs. Quirasi said a quick prayer to Hathor, the goddess of love, for this truly unexpected gift.

"Do I please you?" Obisenankhamun teased, squirming a little. His cock twitched enticingly.

"You are beautiful," Quirasi breathed, making the other man blush again.

"Show me how beautiful I am," the king commanded, smiling.

Quirasi moved further down the couch and leaned over. "Thy Majesty's will be done," he said, as he took Obisenankhamun's length in his mouth.

"Qui-" the king gasped, arching back against the couch. The experience was maddening; Obisenankhamun felt his entire world rush down between his legs and into the hot, clever mouth of his lover. He had wanted Lord Quirasi for what seemed to be an eternity, the knowledge that the man he had fallen in love with all those many months ago was pleasuring him now was almost too much to bear. He couldn't last long, at this point...

With a muted cry Obisenankhamun came, hard, and without warning.

Panting, the Pharaoh fell back on his couch, insensate. When he came to, he looked up to find Quirasi gazing down at him, grinning smugly.

"That was too quick," Obisenankhamun said ruefully. "I'm afraid I'll need some more instruction on how to be a good lover."

"Thy Majesty's will be done," Quirasi said, still smiling. He licked his lips slowly, savoring every drop of the king-

His king. His lover.

Obisenankhamun grinned back, and sat up. "Now you must teach me the ways of pleasuring a man," he said coyly.

Quirasi's heart skipped a beat, but remembered his duty. "The emissary from Byblos," he said, attempting a stern countenance. "We must make sure you are ready to receive him-"

But Obisenankhamun cut his lover off with a wave of his hand. "I am the Pharaoh, and you love me," he said, laughing. "I can do anything."

THE END