A Journey to The Heart of Gormenghast

[i_am_fuchsia]

Much to the disappointment of the Earl and Countess of Gormenghast, it was found that Fuchsia had not conceived as they wished. And therefore when Fuchsia was siezed with the inspiration that they might turn their plight to the attention of The Heart -- the mystical order that gathered deep amongst the ancient foundations of the castle city --

Comments

[thekitchenboy]

They find the Heart where they left them, save for the fact that the Heart now sit in rows, gathered together, men and women together. They do not notice Steerpike and Fuchsia when the Earl and Countess enter. In fact, they seem to be in some sort of trance.

The High Priestess kneels before the group. She, too, is in a trance.

Steerpike moves to the back row. He also kneels, and bows his head in the same fashion.

[i_am_fuchsia]

Fuchsia takes her place at the back with Steerpike, settling upon the warm, smooth floor and letting her mind clear. The dress she has chosen to wear is one of the older, simpler gowns of white embroidered in red and gold.

It's so peaceful, she thinks. Like I feel so apart, and yet like I can feel the whole city from down here...

[thekitchenboy]

Moments pass. There's not a sound in the chamber. Steerpike can hardly hear his own breathing.

Then, his ears detect a whisper. The whisper turns into a rush. The rush turns into a roar. It sounds as though water is running somewhere nearby, yet none of the members of the Heart seem to react to it. Not immediately.

The High Priestess raises her head. She begins to hum. Only then do the members of the order begin to rise and leave the chamber, moving in twos, their heads bowed.

The High Priestess does not stir, however. She says, "Welcome, Countess and Earl."

[i_am_fuchsia]

It almost seems like sacrilege to speak, against the palpable, deep feeling within the chamber. But she hears whispered words from her lips speak, and echo throughout the room.

"Greetings, O Priestess of The Heart. We are come to ask for succor and aid, in continuing the sacred Blood of Groan."

[i_am_fuchsia]

By the time that Fuchsia bends with the pot of red ink to begin drawing the intricate designs upon Steerpike's bare flesh that the Priestess inscribed upon her, over an hour has passed. The robe of the Order that had previously clothed Fuchsia is long gone, and there is hardly an area of her flesh that has not been touched by the Priestess' slender, deft fingers.

Now, with the priestess' guidance, Fuchsia's fingers paint ancient characters upon Steerpike's smooth frame, and with every touch he can feel the power grow within him.

[thekitchenboy]

Steerpike is near-delirous with the pure lust rising within him. His eyes are closed, eyelids fluttering as Fuchsia touches him and paints him. His erection is purple, and larger than usual with pure frustration and need.

The priestess bends over Steerpike and places a goblet at his lips. He drinks, and finds a pleasant sort of fruity wine.

[i_am_fuchsia]

Once most of Steerpike's front has been inscribed, the pillows are arranged so that he may lay down upon his stomach and have his back painted with the sacred sigils. And then for the final touch, once the Earl's back is dry, the Priestess directs him to turn back over, so that Fuchsia might touch her fingertips to her husband's shaft and paint it, too, with red designs.

"Do not fear that having the paint inside of you will make you unwell," the Priestess murmurs serenely. "It is not a substance that will bring you harm, and it will strengthen the connection between you."

[thekitchenboy]

"Please," Steerpike whimpers. "Please. Oh, please. I can't hold on any longer." His manhood throbs as Fuchsia touches it, and he emits a warning drop of moisture. "Please."