(no subject)
Title: Magic Carpet Ride
Author/Artist: Tomato
Rating: T
Summary: In 48 B.C.E. in the midst of Civil War, Cleopatra VII seduced Gaius Julius Caesar to gain favor for herself with Rome. Behind the scenes, her nation attempted much the same thing.
--
“Find me my nation,” Cleopatra demanded of her slave quietly-the only slave who would know what she spoke of. “I have a favor I need to ask, and I do miss her terribly.”
“Of course, your highness,” replied the elder woman, who soon disappeared from sight. Cleopatra sat before her mirror, tugging at her wig-it was simple, yet elegant, and it wouldn’t get in the way. She wore minimal make-up, lest it get smudged. Her clothes were very thin and rather tight: no wrinkles. A second wig lay brushed beside her, glossy black and short. It would only be shoulder length at most on whoever wore it. On the floor, rolled up and sprayed with perfume were two Persian rugs, finely detailed and suitable for one of the upper class.
A few minutes later, there was a light tap at the door, and it opened silently. The slave had returned, with a guest.
“Kemet,” Cleopatra said, smiling when she laid eyes upon her. The princess rose swiftly, cupping the taller woman’s face in her hands. “I have missed you so much. I am so sorry I’ve been away.”
Kemet might have smiled softly in return; her queen’s hands were gentle and also very missed. “I was afraid you would be killed,” she confessed, pulling her hands down, but not letting them go.
“I would not dare to leave you,” she said, touching their foreheads together. “And I apologize for the haste, but I have something I must ask of you.”
“What is it?”
“Now please don’t turn me down right away, it’s very important,” Cleopatra began, leaning over to whisper into Kemet’s ear.
As she pulled away, Kemet’s face went utterly blank. “You want me to what?”
“I said don’t turn it down so quickly!” Cleopatra chided, waving her finger. “And I know he fancies you, it’s terribly obvious, so it wouldn’t be very hard in the slightest!”
“That is beside the point,” Kemet replied, crossing her arms.
“I am doing this for my sake, as well as yours. Caesar is not pleased with my brother’s actions regarding Pompey, and if I were to gain his favor-”
“Yes, I can understand. It doesn’t mean I am thrilled by this prospect.”
“Oh, come now, Kemet,” Cleopatra said, slipping her arm around the nation’s waist and giving it a squeeze. “He’s quintessentially Roman, I’m sure he’ll be good!”
Kemet stared. “That was not my concern.”
Cleopatra grinned. “And if I’m not mistaken, I have seen you looking him over every now and then. I can’t say I quite blame you, really. He’s rather nice to look at, for a country.”
“Cleopatra.”
“Yes?” she replied playfully, innocently, as she practically danced over to the mirror to pick up the wig and hold it up. “Look, I’ve even gotten you a new wig!”
Kemet sighed. “If this goes badly, I’ve only you to blame.”
Cleopatra laughed, nearly a giggle, planting a kiss on Kemet’s cheek. “I promise we’ll all go home happy, in more ways than one!” She directed her nation to sit, pulling off her wig to replace it with the new, getting straight to work.
--
The lengths she went for her queen. And at the very least, she had demanded it to be a sort of comfortable rug, that looked good, as well-and to her delight, it was at least that. The patterns were rather exquisite. Sighing, she’d allowed herself to be rolled into the rug, given a confident wink from the organizer of the plan, before her vision was cut off by the fabric.
She felt herself being carried and tried to remain as still as possible. Which arguably, was not that difficult a feat, but whoever was carrying her handled the rug a bit too roughly for her tastes every now and again. She tried not to pay attention to the goings-on around her, retreating to her happy place and imagining herself lounging in the sun. So far was she in her daydream that she nearly missed when her carrier knocked on a door.
She’d arrived.
She heard the door creak open, followed by a fuddled exchange of words (mostly because she still was not quite paying attention). The conversation was quiet for a little (she assumed the slave was speaking), before an easily recognizable voice boomed through the carpet.
“Oooh, a rug? I like rugs. I like presents, actually. But rugs are good,” she heard him say, as she was passed into his arms. “Woah,” he grunted, nearly dropping her, obviously unprepared for the weight. “What’s it made of, bones?”
He lightly set her on the ground and began to unravel it. As he neared revealing her, she felt his motions slow, as if he’d realized something (or someone) was inside the rug. And then at last, light, and Kemet slipped into a seated, sultry position.
“Is this a regular occurrence with Egyptian rugs because,” he started, salacious grin on his face as always, “if that’s the case, I’ll be placing orders by the dozen.”
“Hello, Rome,” she deadpanned, almost business-like. “And it’s Persian.”
“Hello indeed.”
She tried to ignore his eyes roaming up and down her curves, but she couldn’t very well object seeing as that was part of the reason she was there. The slave must have left the room as soon as the carpet was given to him, for the two of them were now alone, with a closed (and locked, she noted) door. She tried to ignore when he casually sat next to her, reaching out to fix some of her hair. Grabbing his hand, she stopped him-she couldn’t have her new wig falling off just yet, especially after her queen had prepared it so nicely. But he turned it around, weaving his fingers through hers, bringing her knuckles to his lips, planting a soft kiss on her skin. She couldn’t ignore that.
Because she kind of liked it. And she hated him for it.
He caught her eyes and didn’t look away, and she stared right back, sliding her hand up his arm. Two could play at this game. She almost relished in the visible excitement bubbling on his face, taking pride in the fact that she was the cause. Cleopatra had been right-it was proving terribly easy.
But she was taken off guard-only for a moment-when he tilted his head in and kissed her. And she was compelled to kiss back, and he almost smirked when she did, but she couldn’t have that, so she broke it off. His forehead against hers, she now smirked, but only slightly. His hand snaked behind her neck, pulling her closer for another kiss, and her arms moved of their own accord, wrapping around his broad shoulders, as he lowered them both down slowly. The last thing her mind processed before imminent (and perhaps slightly welcome) distraction in the form of his kisses was how comfortable the bed was.
--
Kemet woke up before him, and he was snoring. Her attempts to sit up were stopped when his arms wrapped tightly around her, as he mumbled something in his sleep. Sighing, she resigned herself to remain in bed until he woke up, hoping it wasn’t too long. But knowing Rome, he would sleep until early afternoon. She briefly wondered-and hoped-that her queen had been as successful as she, mulling over the effects that would be sure to follow.
Looking at him, almost completely unguarded, she had to admit-there might be something attractive about him. And then she rolled over to face away from him. She would not admit he was good, either.
The bastard.
--
END.
NOTES!!!
- Okay if you don't know the story, it goes as followed: Cleopatra was married to her brother as as joint ruler of Egypt, and they didn't get along (he was shittons younger than her). So when Pompey and Caesar were feuding and the former came to Egypt, her brother had Pompey killed. Caesar was Not Happy, and Cleopatra used this to her ~*~advantage~*~. Supposedly, she had herself wrapped in a Persian rug and delivered to Caesar in hopes of gaining his favor and getting the throne for herself (since he had basically been like OH MY GOD SHUT UP STOP FIGHTING I WILL RULE HERE TILL YOU GUYS MAKE UP). They became ~*~Lovers~*~ and needless to say, Cleopatra basically gained the throne for herself. AND THEN NINE MONTHS LATER SHE HAD A SON. Funny how that works, huh.
There's more to it but THERE YOU GO.
- Kemet = Ancient Egypt. It's what the ancient Egyptians called their nation. (Well it's actually "km.t" but pronounced like "kemet.") /o/
comments are lovely ;~; ♥
Author/Artist: Tomato
Rating: T
Summary: In 48 B.C.E. in the midst of Civil War, Cleopatra VII seduced Gaius Julius Caesar to gain favor for herself with Rome. Behind the scenes, her nation attempted much the same thing.
--
“Find me my nation,” Cleopatra demanded of her slave quietly-the only slave who would know what she spoke of. “I have a favor I need to ask, and I do miss her terribly.”
“Of course, your highness,” replied the elder woman, who soon disappeared from sight. Cleopatra sat before her mirror, tugging at her wig-it was simple, yet elegant, and it wouldn’t get in the way. She wore minimal make-up, lest it get smudged. Her clothes were very thin and rather tight: no wrinkles. A second wig lay brushed beside her, glossy black and short. It would only be shoulder length at most on whoever wore it. On the floor, rolled up and sprayed with perfume were two Persian rugs, finely detailed and suitable for one of the upper class.
A few minutes later, there was a light tap at the door, and it opened silently. The slave had returned, with a guest.
“Kemet,” Cleopatra said, smiling when she laid eyes upon her. The princess rose swiftly, cupping the taller woman’s face in her hands. “I have missed you so much. I am so sorry I’ve been away.”
Kemet might have smiled softly in return; her queen’s hands were gentle and also very missed. “I was afraid you would be killed,” she confessed, pulling her hands down, but not letting them go.
“I would not dare to leave you,” she said, touching their foreheads together. “And I apologize for the haste, but I have something I must ask of you.”
“What is it?”
“Now please don’t turn me down right away, it’s very important,” Cleopatra began, leaning over to whisper into Kemet’s ear.
As she pulled away, Kemet’s face went utterly blank. “You want me to what?”
“I said don’t turn it down so quickly!” Cleopatra chided, waving her finger. “And I know he fancies you, it’s terribly obvious, so it wouldn’t be very hard in the slightest!”
“That is beside the point,” Kemet replied, crossing her arms.
“I am doing this for my sake, as well as yours. Caesar is not pleased with my brother’s actions regarding Pompey, and if I were to gain his favor-”
“Yes, I can understand. It doesn’t mean I am thrilled by this prospect.”
“Oh, come now, Kemet,” Cleopatra said, slipping her arm around the nation’s waist and giving it a squeeze. “He’s quintessentially Roman, I’m sure he’ll be good!”
Kemet stared. “That was not my concern.”
Cleopatra grinned. “And if I’m not mistaken, I have seen you looking him over every now and then. I can’t say I quite blame you, really. He’s rather nice to look at, for a country.”
“Cleopatra.”
“Yes?” she replied playfully, innocently, as she practically danced over to the mirror to pick up the wig and hold it up. “Look, I’ve even gotten you a new wig!”
Kemet sighed. “If this goes badly, I’ve only you to blame.”
Cleopatra laughed, nearly a giggle, planting a kiss on Kemet’s cheek. “I promise we’ll all go home happy, in more ways than one!” She directed her nation to sit, pulling off her wig to replace it with the new, getting straight to work.
--
The lengths she went for her queen. And at the very least, she had demanded it to be a sort of comfortable rug, that looked good, as well-and to her delight, it was at least that. The patterns were rather exquisite. Sighing, she’d allowed herself to be rolled into the rug, given a confident wink from the organizer of the plan, before her vision was cut off by the fabric.
She felt herself being carried and tried to remain as still as possible. Which arguably, was not that difficult a feat, but whoever was carrying her handled the rug a bit too roughly for her tastes every now and again. She tried not to pay attention to the goings-on around her, retreating to her happy place and imagining herself lounging in the sun. So far was she in her daydream that she nearly missed when her carrier knocked on a door.
She’d arrived.
She heard the door creak open, followed by a fuddled exchange of words (mostly because she still was not quite paying attention). The conversation was quiet for a little (she assumed the slave was speaking), before an easily recognizable voice boomed through the carpet.
“Oooh, a rug? I like rugs. I like presents, actually. But rugs are good,” she heard him say, as she was passed into his arms. “Woah,” he grunted, nearly dropping her, obviously unprepared for the weight. “What’s it made of, bones?”
He lightly set her on the ground and began to unravel it. As he neared revealing her, she felt his motions slow, as if he’d realized something (or someone) was inside the rug. And then at last, light, and Kemet slipped into a seated, sultry position.
“Is this a regular occurrence with Egyptian rugs because,” he started, salacious grin on his face as always, “if that’s the case, I’ll be placing orders by the dozen.”
“Hello, Rome,” she deadpanned, almost business-like. “And it’s Persian.”
“Hello indeed.”
She tried to ignore his eyes roaming up and down her curves, but she couldn’t very well object seeing as that was part of the reason she was there. The slave must have left the room as soon as the carpet was given to him, for the two of them were now alone, with a closed (and locked, she noted) door. She tried to ignore when he casually sat next to her, reaching out to fix some of her hair. Grabbing his hand, she stopped him-she couldn’t have her new wig falling off just yet, especially after her queen had prepared it so nicely. But he turned it around, weaving his fingers through hers, bringing her knuckles to his lips, planting a soft kiss on her skin. She couldn’t ignore that.
Because she kind of liked it. And she hated him for it.
He caught her eyes and didn’t look away, and she stared right back, sliding her hand up his arm. Two could play at this game. She almost relished in the visible excitement bubbling on his face, taking pride in the fact that she was the cause. Cleopatra had been right-it was proving terribly easy.
But she was taken off guard-only for a moment-when he tilted his head in and kissed her. And she was compelled to kiss back, and he almost smirked when she did, but she couldn’t have that, so she broke it off. His forehead against hers, she now smirked, but only slightly. His hand snaked behind her neck, pulling her closer for another kiss, and her arms moved of their own accord, wrapping around his broad shoulders, as he lowered them both down slowly. The last thing her mind processed before imminent (and perhaps slightly welcome) distraction in the form of his kisses was how comfortable the bed was.
--
Kemet woke up before him, and he was snoring. Her attempts to sit up were stopped when his arms wrapped tightly around her, as he mumbled something in his sleep. Sighing, she resigned herself to remain in bed until he woke up, hoping it wasn’t too long. But knowing Rome, he would sleep until early afternoon. She briefly wondered-and hoped-that her queen had been as successful as she, mulling over the effects that would be sure to follow.
Looking at him, almost completely unguarded, she had to admit-there might be something attractive about him. And then she rolled over to face away from him. She would not admit he was good, either.
The bastard.
--
END.
NOTES!!!
- Okay if you don't know the story, it goes as followed: Cleopatra was married to her brother as as joint ruler of Egypt, and they didn't get along (he was shittons younger than her). So when Pompey and Caesar were feuding and the former came to Egypt, her brother had Pompey killed. Caesar was Not Happy, and Cleopatra used this to her ~*~advantage~*~. Supposedly, she had herself wrapped in a Persian rug and delivered to Caesar in hopes of gaining his favor and getting the throne for herself (since he had basically been like OH MY GOD SHUT UP STOP FIGHTING I WILL RULE HERE TILL YOU GUYS MAKE UP). They became ~*~Lovers~*~ and needless to say, Cleopatra basically gained the throne for herself. AND THEN NINE MONTHS LATER SHE HAD A SON. Funny how that works, huh.
There's more to it but THERE YOU GO.
- Kemet = Ancient Egypt. It's what the ancient Egyptians called their nation. (Well it's actually "km.t" but pronounced like "kemet.") /o/
comments are lovely ;~; ♥