Fiendlings discussion

She dragged her long finger nails down his chest and smiled as he sighed. The room was bathed in moonlight. A cool breeze wafted through the window and ruffled her long, black hair.

“Please?” the man whispered.

Ama leaned down and kissed the hollow in his throat. He moaned. The gold cuff studded with lapis glowed a soft blue in the darkness. She stroked a hand through his thinning, grey hair.

“It has to be this way,” she whispered. “You’re getting old.”

“Don’t— Don’t care,” he breathed.

She touched her lips to his. The lapis glowed bright enough to light the room. Their tongues touched and he moaned. She pulled away from him, fighting the need.

Her fingers curled around his erect penis. His body jumped, arched, and then he emptied himself.

Ama smiled and kissed him as he convulsed in soft moans.

He fell asleep curled around her. She continued stroking his hair long after his breathing became deep and unlabored.

She put her lips close to his ear.

“Haidar,” she whispered. He moaned something in his sleep. “When you wake, you will forget me and my home. You will leave this part of the city and return to your family.”

“I will?” he asked in his sleep.

Ama nodded and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Yes, beloved. You must.”

“Don’t want—“

“Shh.” She touched his forehead and his body went slack. “I will miss you, Haidar. But you are not the one.”

The man said nothing.

Ama continued watching him until dawn, drinking in his naked body. He was wrinkled, but still well-muscled. The years had gone by too fast, as they always did. The lapis had done its job, keeping him from dying early, but even its power wasn’t enough to keep the damage from spreading.
When sunlight crept in through the open window, she robed herself and walked out into the city. The scrabble sand ground wasn’t yet warm enough to be uncomfortable on her bare feet. With slow steps, she passed through alleys lined with garbage and headed toward the northern gate.

The great Ziggurat of Ur rose in the east, reaching toward the sky. She watched as the sun dazzled against the gold decorations on its top.
White robed men and blue robed women were climbing the steps. Morning prayers to the god Sin for rain, fertility, any end to the scorching summer. The En would be among them, or perhaps she was already waiting for her supplicants.

Before she had found Haidar, he had worshipped Sin as well. Whenever the moon rose during their love-making, his face would always turn to catch its glimpse before he allowed himself to climax. Until he aged and forgot all about the moon god.

Ama wiped another tear from her cheek. The sun was rising over the horizon. Shimmers of heat rose from the distant sand. Before long, the temperature would spike once more leaving the city in misery.

The people of Ur had made offerings every night for two moons, begging Sin to forgive them and dispel the cloudless skies. She didn’t think the moon god was listening. Even the faithful in the city were beginning to lose hope.

Flood and drought were the cycles. The earth gave all or the earth gave none. The merchants from Babylon had claimed it was Sargon’s ghost, haunting the remnants of the Akkadian kingdoms.

Merchants, she thought, always lying to strike a trade.

Today was the last Market Day before Name Day. The night before, the caravans had entered the city. In a few hours, the travelers would set up their shops in the marketplace and hawk their wares. It would be the day’s sole respite until nightfall, when the entertainers began their dances, juggling, and story-telling.

Most would stay in the city until after Name Day. They would have few sales on the first day since most people were saving their money for the actual celebration and, of course, to see what entertainment their king might provide for free.

Ama shaded her eyes and made out a lone red-robed figure standing atop the ziggurat. The En. She seemed to be looking down at Ama from beneath her veil.

She turned and headed toward home. By now, Haidar would be gone. His memory would be fuzzy and his body would feel as though he’d been asleep far too long.

No more tears, she thought. But she knew there would be more shed. For forty seasons, he’d shared her bed, amused her, kept her fed, clothed, and
safe.

She would soon have to find another.

That's one way to open it :) *claps*

Cheers. :)

Oh yeah. This is going to be an awesome read. ;)

Anyone read all of Ama yet? Any thoughts or comments? Any connections to Paul's other stories that make some things make more sense now? Any questions?