The Empire The Sapphire Oasis

[Medja]

Medja listened in silence as the warrior spoke, slowly supping at her own wine. Her smile faded as he regaled the end of his empire, the end of himself. Before she knew it, her glass was empty. Mixed feelings bubbled within the regent, stirred by a spreading heat that radiated from her core...what must have been the alcohol.

There was sadness for the story Len had told, yes, but there was also a desire within her to comfort. Len finished his tale with a resolution--one that endeared him to Medja. In the moments that followed, Medja alighted, rounded the counter, and pulled Len into a warm embrace, cradling his head. There was much she could say, but little she felt was right.

"...Come. Your day has been long. You deserve a bath."

 

[Len Dy't B-taa]

Len had not told her of his end for pity or sympathy; He had been entirely conscious of his choice when he'd raised his blade to those who had commanded him.Those plump and spoilt monarchs had dubbed him as something other, as an anomaly and a monster. Perhaps he'd been just that to them, but as he'd stared into their eyes before making them pay for the blood they had so needlessly spilled with their own, he'd known himself to be a hero to all rulerships not his own.

That had been enough.

The Empress did not speak, and Len did not hold that against her. What was one to say in the face of such a pyrrhic tragedy? Of the end of a kingdom so much like her own? The Warrior beholden to said fallen land asked not comfort or coddling, especially not from one of her status, who herself sat upon a position the same as the ones he'd once hunted like dogs in their own Kingdom. So it was with trepidation that he met her as she circled around to hold him closely.

Len's muscles tensed against the soft sensations of her body, but he allowed the Regent to cradle his head down into her shoulder; He'd not realized himself nearly a foot taller than her when she descended from the air.

"...Come. Your day has been long. You deserve a bath."

He'd been opposed, but through the fire-like warmth of Medja's words, the idea of a soak seemed much more appealing than it had moments earlier. Yes, let the heat of the waters wash away the stress. It would do him good, and allow him to better serve the new Empire he'd found himself welcomed into.

Tentatively, Len raised a hand, gently placing it on his Empress' side.

"Yes. That sounds divine, Empress..."

 

[Medja]

Her body nearly shivered as Len's hand fell upon it, and she gently clasped her hand over his. She squeezed it for a moment before letting go and slipping away from the warrior, towing him along carefully by that same hand.

As they moved up the stairs, Medja palmed an emblem, her symbol, pressing in the eye-shaped gem at its center and muttering into it a moment. A low "Yes, mistress, right away," could be heard emanating in response. Medja cast a reassuring glance over her shoulder at Len.

"All should be ready, soon."

---

A handful of servants did indeed arrive to prepare the rooftop bath, though perhaps the term "rooftop" was in and of itself a misnomer. Many columns and arches surrounded the perimeter of the roof, lush vines and foliage, as well as linens providing a mix of natural and artificial screens from prying eyes.

Rather than a single bath, there were multiple, some seemingly more intended to house the lilies and other water-dwelling plants growing within them. Each bath was sunken, "in-ground," so to speak, rounded at its edges and relatively shallow, though a larger pool lay at the center of the area that was likely deeper, intended more for swimming than the others.

A soft, blue glow emanated from each bath from some unknown, magical source. The light shimmered upwards and cast itself wavily upon the columns that enwreathed the space, complimenting the warm light of the setting sun.

Several towels had been neatly folded and left on a tray alongside soaps, oils, and perfumes. Satisfied that the baths had been prepared appropriately, Medja looked to Len. For once, she seemed hesitant, uncertain.
"You are welcome to this place as long as you please, Ser B-taa...shall I take my leave?"

 

[Len Dy't B-taa]

It was only in that transient embrace they'd shared that Len felt as though he somewhat understood the enigmatic Ragashian empress. In her breath, he heard kinship unspoken. Certainly, Medja would have gone through many trials of her own in her time as Ruler of this Empire, and as one who had bore witness to the hardships of being so powerful a leader as her first-hand, he could only imagine the strife that hid behind the confidence that exuded from her every pore.

What he hadn't expected was to be allowed to see that hidden frailty, ever so brief as it was.

Quietly he followed her to the baths, her hand never leaving his own, gripping his fingers just tightly enough so that he would not slip entirely from her grasp. The chamber itself, hidden atop her estate by breathtaking architecture, was enough to part his lips, bringing him to step forward towards the dimly glowing pools as if they were a siren's song. For the first time since his arrival, he'd found a place that felt truly like his home. It was enough to take his breath away.

"You are welcome to this place as long as you please, Ser B-taa...shall I take my leave?"

His fascination with the otherworldly baths was briefly severed as he turned to look back at his Empress. she smiled, but the bombastic exuberance he'd come to expect from her was muted. For a moment, the bronze-skinned warrior felt his brow furrow as he turned his back fully to the baths to face her. Was this the same Regent he'd just spoken with downstairs?

No, he decided rather shortly. It wasn't.

That had been the Empress of Ragash, showing him hospitality befitting her reputation.

This was Medja, the woman, asking him if he wished for her company.

Raising her hand to his lips, Len placed a kiss softly on the back of it, his eyes looking across at her own as he shook his head gently.

"I would be flattered should you desire to accompany me, Medja."

 

[Medja]

Her lips curled into a smile, soft and genuine. No titles, no pomp. There were very few who had that privilege with Medja.
"Very well, Len. I think I would enjoy staying."
She stroked the side of his face a moment with her free hand before gracefully stepping away. Taking her time, she began to gather a few things left by the attendants into her arms.

Medja cast a look over her shoulder at the still armored man, eyes dancing from head to toe. She couldn't fight the hint of playful mischief building within her when she called to him from across the room.

"I would have you disrobe to your comfort level and choose a pool."

 

[Len Dy't B-taa]

Len's face tilted against the idle caress of her palm on his cheek, and his eyes followed her as she swept herself away with a tempting sway of her hips to collect what she needed. It may have seemed naive, especially to any hot-blooded man, but The Terios had no impure implications about what Medja's bathing with him would imply. His previous life had been anything but licentious, after all.

Innocent though he was, even he could not ignore the dancing whimsy behind Medja's eyes as she looked over her shoulder at him, seeming to drink him in from top to bottom. It was similar to when he'd been inspected by the King's smith before each battle, looking over every inch of him with a careful eye for imperfection or vulnerability.

Similar... but so very different. For Len was beginning to suspect it was not his armor she wished to inspect...

"I would have you disrobe to your comfort level and choose a pool."

He had to withhold his amusement. To his comfort level? It was an attempt to keep him at ease, but Len had never heard of bathing with one's clothes on. Still, that teasing lift to her voice did touch something in the back of his head. Without thinking much of it, he stepped forward as he began to unfasten that which held the golden armor to his body.

"My people were not modest about our bodies. It will take more than nudity to discomfort me, Medja."

Piece by piece, Len's gilded armor hit the floor. It was not the suit he'd worn into battle countless times, forged by his own hands. No, it was but a replica that Ahti Merira had ordered made to his specifications and recollection. That wasn't to say it was weak or unremarkable, though. The Empire's smiths had done a tremendous job.

But he wouldn't be needing it tonight, he felt.

Len walked around to step in front of Medja, his skin as bare as the day he was reborn into the world, the sun peeking down from above glowing against his bronzed flesh. His body was far from flawless; scars of ancient battles seemed to litter him, faded markings of all the times death had nearly taken him, along with one dark, prominent scar along the center of his chest and back where he'd run himself through at the end, accepting that death.

Slowly, he stepped down into the warm waters of one of the baths, sinking into its comforting embrace with a sigh-- The Empress was right: Already the tension in his muscles began to dissolve.

"Joining me, Medja?" There was almost a sense of playfulness in his voice as he looked up at her from the pool of water, a glimmer of what she'd know was the same mischief she carried close to her chest.

 

[Medja]

A low, simmering glow began to emanate from the Empress' eyes, her lids hanging low as Len disrobed. As though possessed of a will of their own, the bandages wrapped about Medja's forearms began to unravel, seizing the materials Medja had gathered and delivering them to the side of the pool Len had chosen. A simple manifestation of her magic, but ever a useful one.

"That is good...I believe I might have fit in among your people, in that regard at least," she tittered softly, crossing the room towards him. She halted several feet from his chosen pool and observed, waiting as he discarded his armor, then his underclothes. Her smirk crept across her lips anew, wisps of emerald light pouring subtly from her irises, though the smile faded slightly as she noted the most noteworthy scar across his chest and back.

Idly, Medja's hand brushed over a spot at the center of her own chest, the ghost of pain she'd once felt herself flashing through her mind. Unpleasant, but also untimely; she shook the memories from her head.

At last, Len reclined into his bath, steam wafting off and into the cooling, evening air. With that, Medja stepped closer.

"Joining me, Medja?"

To that question, Medja answered at first only with a silent pause as she folded her arms across her chest, resting her chin on the backs of one hand's fingers. A low hum resonated from her chest and she smirked once more, the glow in her eyes flaring slightly as her bandages once again snaked to life. Any mischief he made, Medja would match and return ever more so.

The serpentine bands went to work, relieving her of headdress, then jewelry, then--slowly, painfully so--her dress and the sparse undergarments beneath before at last joining the now neatly placed pile of her discarded attire on the floor. She did not so much as flinch as she joined him in the buff, promptly lowering her perfectly sculpted form into the bath alongside him. Not even the distant memory and the faded scar over her heart shied her away now.

"Does that answer your question, dear Len?" she teased. She raised a hand from the warm waters and ran her fingers ever so softly from behind his ear, down his neck, and let them play along the top of his shoulder. "Now tell me, I wish to spoil you: where shall I start?"

 

[Len Dy't B-taa]

Len soaked in the steamy waters like a mighty lion lounging before a hunt, his arms propped up on either side of him, resting lazily on the edge of the pool as his head hung forward, deep eyes gazing at Medja as she slowly made her way to him. In any other circumstance, he'd have been impressed with the utility of her bandages, how they served her every whim like sentient, obedient serpents.

There was no amazement in his eyes for anything now though, save maybe the Empress herself as she so teasingly disrobed in front of him, the jade glow of her eyes casting the faintest hint of shadow over her curves as those same dutiful bands revealing her to his gaze piece by piece.

The smirk on his lips had shifted; At first, there had been amusement, mischief in his smile. Slowly it was replaced. The longer she so purposefully made him wait for her arrival, the more that playful smile gave way to one of a dying man amongst the sands finding a hidden oasis--

The figure that was finally bared to him as the last of her garments were placed aside stirred feelings inside of him, lit fires that had laid dormant since long before his first death, now awakened by yet another temptation of the Empire

Beauty. Not of the earth or of creation, but of the flesh.

It was a privilege he'd long been without, but that he now allowed himself to indulge in.

B-taa did not shy away from letting his eyes travel over every perfectly shapen inch that she so readily presented to him, knowing she'd done the same thing to him. His life as Terios was a lonely one. More than half of his life was spent without even the company of a woman, let alone the touch of one. Yet as Medja now lowered herself into the waters beside him her hands wandered carelessly, tracing searing lines across his neck and shoulder.

She answered his question with a different question. Len turned his head to face her, and smiled.

"You spoil me with your presence. Any more than that is a gift."

The arm resting on the bath's edge comes down, B-taa's fingers finding the back of her neck, grazing the tip of her spine as he speaks.

"I would insist on repaying you in kind..."

Medja

 

[Medja]

The gaze that fell upon Medja was not at all an unfamiliar one; not that it was Len's, no, but the look of want that he wore. Longing was an emotion the sorceress had become quite well acquainted with, one she'd used as a weapon many times in the past. Now it was nothing so harsh or cruel, just...natural. Such a look was not always welcome, but tonight Medja reveled in it.

As she her fingers danced across his shoulder, Len professed his answer in both word and deed. Again she hummed, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he drew his own digits across the sensitive nape of her neck.
"You aren't very good at the whole 'receiving' thing, are you?" she teased him as her eyes opened once again, first falling to his waistline at the water's surface before climbing--slowly--to properly appreciate the form of the man in front of her. "If you insist so, then I will allow you this, but..."

Medja's eyes flared, and the bandages answered. They leapt to life from the pile they'd been discarded to, trailing over to Len and softly wrapping around his arms and torso. The strips of earthborne cloth spun Len away from Medja at her behest while she giggled. Still more snatched up some fine soap or oil and deposited the vessel in their mistress' hand.

"I cannot properly reach your back while you face towards me, dear Len."

With that, she popped the cork from the container she held, lathered it in her palms, and began to work it into Len's back. A casual flick of her wrist was all it took for the serpentine bandages to once again retreat to the side of the pool, waiting for their next summons to wrap and bind once more.

 

[Len Dy't B-taa]

Len's eyes slid shut, and a slow breath that drew all of the air from his lungs fell out of his lips over her naked flesh as she slowly brought her hand up the ridges of his muscular abdomen, his muscles relaxing, body threatening to melt and become one with the warm waters at her very touch. It was true, Len was not adept at accepting treatment from others without it being given as a reward. It had been driven into his being that such pleasures came only with victory.

What victory had he achieved to earn the smoldering touch of an Empress? He could think of none, or perhaps the presence of said woman at his side exploring his body with her hands voided his mind of such a triumph. That his own stubborn nature hadn't doomed him to a life of destitute solitude was in and of itself a miracle, but the benevolence of his partner in this instance lent itself to his benefit.

Alas, even the Terios could be caught unawares.

In the blink of an eye her bandages had returned, ensuring him as he relaxed against their master and spinning him around so that he faced away from Medja, holding him there gently as the Regent prepared to wash his back. An amused smirk found his expression, not at all put off by the sudden change in position.

"You do make it difficult to..." A low groan interrupted his speech as her palms found his broad back, working the soap into his skin, lathering every inch above the water that she could reach. His shoulders slumped, and his head tilted forward. "...Say no. But I would have turned if you'd only asked, Dear Medja."

He turned his head back towards her, smirking still.

"Perhaps you just wished to show off to me?"

Medja

 

[Medja]

The eternal push and pull of intimacy never ceased to entertain Medja. Relaxation and excitement, calm and shock, these were two sides of the same coin. That even this ancient, unmatched warrior could be lulled and then caught off guard was infinitely amusing to the regent empress, but also rather endearing. The sound he made at the merest touch had no less of an effect on her.

Touch was the sense one used most as a geomancer. Much as she enjoyed the air of superiority she granted herself by levitating most of her waking hours, one could not truly learn the ins and outs of the earth without contact. Indeed, every spell Medja cast was focused by her intricate hand motions and the feelings of the earth as they resonated within her. For an earth sorceress as proficient as Medja, something so simple as a massage was an experience like no other.

"Dear Len," she giggled softly before leaning forward to whisper in his ear. "I am nothing if not ostentatious."

Her hands played across his broad back akin to a master pianist performing a spectacular concerto. Each individual muscle group could be singled out and caressed in such a way to bring splendid release--and gods, did Len seem to need it. War, death, and a few centuries of slumber had left his muscles tight beyond belief, and that was a relief that Medja was happy to provide as she worked the lather into his back and shoulders.

Of course, what fun would a mere massage from Medja be if a bit more was not involved? Occasionally, the sorceress' hands would work down to Len's lower back and glide across the top of his glutes, over his hip bones, and slide down the front of his thighs, dipping briefly into the water before rushing back behind him once more. But all simply with her hands for now. That push and pull was ever looming, and perhaps she'd be able to ignite a fire within him if she made him wait for more long enough.

 

[Len Dy't B-taa]

The Terios felt his body shiver at the sensation of her whispered words against his ear. No, not at the words themselves, but the heat behind them. Even an Empress couldn't hide the desire that lay within one's voice, heady and low between whispered phrases. The warrior tilted his head down and released another deeply held sigh as Medja worked her hands into his aching, tightly wound muscles. Her touch was like magic, unraveling knots that had been tied centuries ago.

"If you are so actorly when hidden behind me..." Len breathed, his voice hitching slightly as she slid her hands underneath the surface of the water to trail paths along the muscles of his backside and caress his thighs, "...One can only imagine the comportment you may exude were I to be facing you." B-taa purred, chuckling as she quickly retracted her wandering hands back to the expanse of his back where they were supposedly meant to be confined.

She was teasing him, plain as the day was hot. Drawing out every ounce of want he had, seeking to make him burn for her until he would be able to withstand her mein no longer. A lesser man would buckle and beg, plead for more than what she now offered him, plead for the unobstructed caress of her hands and lips. Len was a warrior, and she would know better than to think him so easily broken.

On the contrary, the next time she allowed her healing touch to roam, an arm of his own would slide back behind him to find the bare flesh of her own thigh, his war-weathered touch rough against her smooth skin, and yet gentle as it slid down her leg to her knee in a feather-light caress. Then it would return, resting at her side, barely short of the swell of her backside.

"If anything, my position is a disadvantage to me, It seems..." Len teased playfully.

Medja

 

[Medja]

Another tittering laugh escaped Medja. His "position" was exactly where Medja liked having a prospective partner: in the palm of her hand, malleable like clay.

She made sure to let out an audible little gasp as Len found the courage to touch her in turn, all too happy to feel him cross such boundaries. He, too, tried to tease her, narrowly avoiding the bounty of her bottom with the caress of his fingers. She smirked.
"Ah, you wish to face me, hmm? You think yourself worthy?" she husked, leaning over to hang her arms loosely over his shoulders as she breathed into his ear once more. "Then perhaps I should rinse you clean, so you might dispel this 'disadvantage.'"

With that, Medja briefly ducked her whole body down into the warmth of the water beneath them, stopping only once her chin grazed its surface. She then proceeded to fully wrap her arms around Len's front and rise from the heated depths, dragging her blessedly soft chest across the length of his back. The sensitive centers of each mound made wonderful contact, sliding across the soaped skin of Len's back even as the water they carried atop them cleansed him. Medja bit her lower lip, enjoying the brief sensation.

As the Empress came to stand, her hands played across Len's chest, grabbing and teasing as she liked before nibbling at the side of her guest's neck.
"One can only imagine..." she sighed, grinning with all the smug she could muster.

 

[Len Dy't B-taa]

"I think we shan't know the weight of my worth until it's laid bare." Len purred back at the Empress, a winsome smile on his face as she whispered huskily into his ear. Her body felt even warmer to the touch against his fingertips than the water that submerged them, and she only grew hotter as his grasp barely missed the swell of her backside. Her position in the water gave her power, but the way she reacted to his touch implied she'd be welcoming of a challenge. "But I implore you to take your time... I intend to be nowhere but with my Empress this evening."

Medja's hands roamed the front of his body, only barely maintaining the illusion of washing him as her deft, gentle fingers ran through the slight valleys of his muscular chest, breaking ground that had not been caressed in such an intimate manner in generations. B-taa leaned back against her, allowing his eyes to enjoy the sight of her hands so wantonly exploring him. Rarely did he allow himself to be adored, but his desire was beginning to defeat his remaining trepidation.

The water suddenly rose as The Empress completely submerged herself and embraced him from behind. The action drew a quizzical brow from The Terios, before he felt her rise, dragging the soft hills of her chest up the length of his back, trails as infernal as the savannah sun drawn along his flesh by those excited peaks as water spilled from her skin onto his, rinsing his back of it's lather.

He stiffened, biting down on the inside of his cheek as her name spilled softly from his lips, just as she placed hers upon his nape.

"One can only imagine..."

He would do no such thing. Standing, Len turned to face the Empress, taking in her full beauty once more, with none of the hesitation he'd shown thus far. "Imagining would be the act of a fool, Medja." He muttered lowly, reaching out to capture her. Len pulled her into his embrace, flush against his body, every inch of their flesh pressing against each other's as he pressed his lips to her face, trailing soft pecks of affection along her jaw until he reached her ear.

"Permit me to show you, instead."

Medja

 

[Medja]

Len, for his part, was certainly proving himself capable of matching Medja's wordplay blow for blow so far. She did love that in a partner, that clever playfulness, the coy remarks that so barely belied what vice was to shortly follow. She so enjoyed hearing him husk her name, just barely audible among the soft breeze that rolled over the sheltered rooftop. And of course, Medja did so enjoy the game. Playing was almost as fun as the aftermath...almost.
"Hmm? I should think that you have little left to 'lay bear' by now, dear Len. Rest assured that I do intend to take my ti--"

Her words were cut short by Len's sudden rise. While the act momentarily startled the sorceress, her expression quickly melted from modest surprise back to a sultry smirk. It seemed she drawn her teasing out for too long, and the Terios had lost his patience. She quirked a brow at him, intending to chide him for not taking his own time, but quickly began to melt as he pressed their bodies together. Her hands instinctively came up to rest against his chest, her eyes fluttering as he drew a lustful line with his lips towards her lobe.

Medja gasped sharply as his words tickled her ear, her fingers curling before one began to trace a playful line across Len's broad chest.
"Your Empress grants you free reign...dear Len..."