Pashaar Palace - Gardens

[Raithen Anar]

The haunt of peacocks, and any favoured women of raithens harem, the gardens are private to any but guests of the King.

[Raithen Anar]

Raithen rose from the great marble-tiled bath, two women, wearing only jeweled collars, came forward to dry him, and he slipped on a short, black robe, rather than the long house robes usually worn, he liked freedom to walk without anything impeding him. The women combed his long hair, then he raised a hand to dismiss them and himself braided and knotted in the Elven-style plaits and knots, before walking out to the gardens.
They were silent but for the music of the fountains, the sunset painting the sky ember red and scarlet. Lights sprang up in the city, soft and muted, from lamps and poorer folks candles, in the palace, the lanterns burned under gemlike coloured glass sent rainbow hues flushing across the walls.
A slave came silently with a message from his Chief Adviser - a venal man, but with an incisive brain, and Raithen believed in using whatever useful tool came to hand .
He read it and then, with trace assertion of power, the parchment burned, crumbled to ash.
Lord, The Satrap of Angkhor openly defies you, saying he will bow to no Lightloth ( Their word for the Eldar ) He boasts that none can breach his city walls, and he will pay no taxes. His army is loyal and he has sons in command of them.

Raithen brushed his hands together. The ancient city of Angkhor lay far in the west, and no doubt, separated from Pashaar by a whole continent, and jungles, and pestilential swamps, the Satrap did indeed feel secure. He sent his voice into his Advisor's mind, something he knew un-nerved the man as nothing else could. Send to General Ashheer, - I will see him at the third bell.
That would be, he thought, a truly wonderful march, and he would loose many to disease, - but he had never expected this conquest to be easy, indeed, he would have grown bored had it been . he sipped the wine, and looked down into the clear water of a fountain, going through numbers in his mind, supply lines, captains, commanders, until he was satisfied, and then sank down, cross legged, to enjoy the star-filled night.

[Raithen Anar]

Raithen sat on the gilded Opal Throne in the great central room of the palace, guards like blind statues stood at attention, as he nodded to the older man appointed Adviser and a gong was struck.

Two young women entered, both wearing rich clothes. One was tall and slender and fair haired, her wide-set eyes jade green and enhanced with kohl. The other, robed in gauze lace, dyed scarlet, had a dark complexion and rounded figure. Of different types, both these women owned a beauty that stopped mens eyes, and they advanced in tiny steps, in the fashion of those trained since childhood to give pleasure.
Both bowed gracefully before the dais, slender legs shown to advantage by the slits in the robes, and loose wrapped gowns revealing other charms. Although such women were chosen from amongst the loveliest in the realm, - although the fair one was clearly northern, and kidnapped into slavery - neither held status higher than the lowest slaves, and both were terrified, they fell to their knees , touching foreheads to the floor.

' Look at me, ' Raithen commanded.

In fear, but in all things obedient, the two young women did as instructed, ' Your will, O King, ' they intoned in voices of practiced softness.
Raithen regarded them with star-white eyes, his face expressionless.

' Nadeean , and Sejana, ' he mused, and glanced at the advisor. ' Have them taken to my rooms, ' he gestured and the older man nodded as he rose, a little stiffly. The women, still moving with trained grace, were taken from the hall and Raithen sat back upon the throne-like chair, and sipped wine. He decided that the adviser had chosen well, for it was he who had been sent to the great slave market in Umbar to find ' acceptable ' looking women, and who would have been severely punished had Raithen found them ugly, - the old goat would be rewarded adequately, he decided.

Irrilandi, who had served forty years in Pashaar as Adviser was both astonished and relieved. For almost ten years ambitious members of the Council, Merchant Princes, desert Sheikh's, had tried to get daughters, sister, bought concubines into the Kings bed.
That these two women were slaves, without connections meant nothing, if they pleased Raithen - and survived - and became favorites, they would become wealthy with bribes , and this would give hope to others, who had always come up against the absolute barrier of his ' them and us ' attitude that set this Godlike ruler apart.
Had he not been so conscious of his own dignity he would have chuckled as he walked the marbles halls of the palace. Already the news had spread and messengers,bearing the headbands of princes and the wealthy would be being dispatched asking to speak to him. Irrilandi himself foresaw, perhaps, optimistically, a wealthy old age.

Raithen , of course knew all this, and it did not trouble him. His thoughts were much more pragmatic, any sons born to him by human women, would not , of course , be as strong as his sons by elven women, but they would be loyal, and Eru, he needed rulers for the cities he conquered, loyal rulers, Captains ,
Harad was simply too vast, too diverse, even for him to rule alone, of course he would have the ultimate power, but these great, ancient cities, city-states many of them, would be ruled by the sons he would get. He rose, and walked lightly to his apartments.

Stripping off his black clothes, he ordered the two, to attend him in the bath chamber.
They were breathless with fear, of course, of him, but their training had been flawless, they knew exactly how to touch a man . He would have had to be stone and ice, not to be aroused, and he was neither, he was deeply sensual, under his cold facade. And what he did, through that night, did not impinge on his conscience, - perhaps no women would ever believe that a man who was so expert as he could feel nothing in his heart at all.
They would hope, as all women did, but the truth was, he wanted a son from each of them. But what he really wanted, was an Eldalie woman.. or two, or three,.. or more.

[Raithen Anar]

Raithen rose lightly from the huge bed, and its tumbled red silks and the women who lay in abandoned attitudes, graceful limbs now frozen forever in death. He strode through to the huge bath, knowing that the bodies would be removed, the bed changed, by the time he returned and Irrilandi would wring bejeweled hands in irritation.
But the truth was , well trained although the women had been, they lacked the essential fire he craved, beauty alone was not enough, and his fiery blood demanded an answering heat. Arrianne had possessed it, until he grew bored of her and she too old, but few women did. he felt nothing except a creeping sense of ennui, as he bathed, then swiftly dressed and went to the Eagles barracks.

[Raithen Anar]

' You see, herunya, not all these lands, are dark and places of blood, ' Raithen said as he lead Cerridwen into the gardens of the palace. ' There is beauty even here, ' a slave came with wine, and he handed her a goblet of gold tinted glass.

[Cerridwen]

Cerridwen took it, looking around at the fountains, the rich, exotic flowers, which scented the air, and then back at him. ' No, indeed, this is beautiful, herunya, nobody knew much about these lands, in Aman, we did not know for instance, that the son of Arien and Eonwe ruled them. But you said you would tell me of what is happening in Middle Earth? '

[Raithen Anar]

He gestured to a marble seat, ' That would take a long time, many dark powers, or those who serve them, lady, believe me, you are safer here with me, I am a friend to the Eldalie, although they may not know it yet. ' At a thought he laughed, ' I doubt my father wishes to speak of me to any, I left aman so long ago, of my own volition, and have served no-one, '

[Cerridwen]

' I have spoken to lord Eonwe, ' she said, ' and no, he never spoke of you, ' she sipped the wine, ' You are a friend to the Eldar? Yet you rule like this... these people are slaves, the Eldar never have such, lord Raithen, '

[Raithen Anar]

He tossed his head, ' That is not my doing, Lady Cerridwen, the Haradhrim have had a master-slave culture since the earliest times, they understand no other, and they are useful enough for now. They are not of the Edain, who aided the Eldar in the First Age, they are men of Darkness, whos blood temples still worship the Dark Ones. '

[Cerridwen]

' And you? ' She said, with a sideways look and a slender sleeve-swish towards where the great pillars of the temple loomed aganst the sky, ' Who are you? their sun-God? Well, these lands would be a good place for one, '

[Raithen Anar]

' they would worship a scabby dog if some-one told them it was divine, ' he saud, with amusement, ' yes, they worship me, and others, I never really take much notice. But you do not wish to discuss the religeous rites of the Haradhrim, lady, I am aure, ' he looked down at her, ' You elected to come with me here, ' his voice deepened, ' You are not some young and foolish woman, you surely know what I desire of you. '

[Cerridwen]

' It seems to run in our family, ' She murmured, thinking of Finduilas, ' to be... interested in the most unsuitable of men. If you have Ainur blood, then you know why I came, you can see it in me, the restlessness, and the need for, shall we say... ' her diamond-grey eyes danced, a moment, ' excitement? '

[Raithen Anar]

' I can give you that, full measure and running over, ' he murmured, skimming his fingertips down her high cheekbones gface, ' If you give me sons, lady. I will fulfil every fantasy you have ever had, if you help me with my own dream '

[Cerridwen]

She laughed, her eyes brilliant, ' Who could refuse such an offer as that, Sunlord? ' she murmured, ' show me these delights, for since I first saw you my blood has been made to burn by your fire, '

[Raithen Anar]

He swept her up and into his rooms, where he showed her all the fires she could access, the heights of passion she could reach, with unmatched skill, and eroticism and velvet and the slow drip of honey from a comb, the wash of dark wine, pleasuring himself and her until the harsh sun climbed into the sky once again.

' It would indeed have been a shame for you to remain in Aman, ' he murmured, watching the sunight trace her magnificent form, half hidden by the finest wild skil sheets, the long ripples of hair with their lights of purple and blue and obsidian black. ' It is so very hard to find women of such passion these day, or in these lands, many Elves seem to act like asexual lumps of stone, or as if they are still children who have never felt the ache of hunger in their loins, - and human women, forget them, they die too easily, ' he quirked his brows , laughing.