Odalisque

 
ODALISQUE
By Mr. Cat

Rating: NC-17 for suggestive language and actions
Pairing: Malik x A Character (He will not be named, only described; neither will he be addressed by name.)
Type: Romance, AU, and possible crossover, depending on how you see it
Disclaimers: All copyrights, trade names, patents, etc. belong to their respective owners.

************************
Chapter 2
************************
 
The dancer watched as he waited for the musicians to start playing. But if anyone was going to play, it was he. The hips continued to undulate, hands equipped with zills practicing their wavelike motions. The clink of coins could be heard, as if their sound was the musicians' cue to start the music, and his to enter the room. And enter he did, each step moving him forward, lifting and dropping his hips, flowing into the step. People said that it was not proper to display the legs in such a dance. But since when de eve ever listen to what people said? Besides, the ancient Egyptian wall paintings showed the pharaonics dancing with their legs displayed, and he was going to do the same tonight. The Moon Dance was what it was called, and he learned it from a visiting troupe after finding out that dance was one other way by which a concubine might improve and advance himself or herself in the harem. To be the powerful dancer, driving the audience mad with lust each time they watched him, approaching each one and presenting part of himself like forbidden fruit -- beautiful, succulent and just ripe for the taking. And when a hand would reach out to take that fruit, he would draw back and punish the lecher by dancing out of the other's reach. So far, he had been able to elude all would-be takers. Little did he know that tonight, that was not going to be the case.

By the time he reached the edge of the table he stopped, putting his weight on the right leg with the foot turned out, while the left extended behind him, the pointed toes of the turned out foot touching the floor as well. His arms were at his sides, still in motion, flowing like an ocean wave. Then, with a click of the brass tals, the arms slowly came down, relaxing at his sides as his eyes closed and he bowed his head, his lack of movement silencing the musicians. He maintained his pose, keeping his eyes closed as he waited for any one of the guests to remove the veil that masked the lower half of his face.

After a few seconds, he felt the veil come off, its softness caressing his skin. To his surprise, however, he felt the touch of somebody's hand as well, strong knuckles moving up his cheek in a smooth, gentle glide. Since he did not want to know which of the guests had dared to remove his organdy covering, he kept his eyes closed and waited until he heard the guest return to his place at the table.

When he finally opened his eyes, he looked at the dishes laid out on the table. Cucumbers, tomatoes and onions finely chopped, mixed with leaves of parsley to make a tasty Mediterranean salad, partnered with a paste of eggplant and chickpeas, the seeds visible in the mixture. He knew the appetizer very well, having had it several times before. And the way it was prepared in the palace, he was sure that it would be a fine starter for the meal. Small slices of bread were neatly arranged around the edges of a saucer as well, surrounding a thick dip made of yogurt, cucumber and garlic. The dancer smiled as he noticed that each guest had helped himself to a generous serving of lamb, sprinkled with mint and accompanied by tomatoes stuffed with a mixture of rice and their meat and pine nuts. And, as a way to finish the meal, figs and dates filled a fruit plate, along with apricots, fresh and dried. A small cup of lemon yogurt sat beside the fruit plate, to be eaten alone or used as a dip. Their cups were filled to the brim with mead, a sweet wine made of honey, and an ideal drink for a romantic, moonlit night. A festive meal indeed, he thought, filled with aphrodisiacs meant to whet the appetite of those who would listen to him.

Bending his left lhe whe went down on one knee, not stopping there as he ended up sitting, bringing the leg in front of him with the knee resting on his left side. The right leg bent as well, but it stayed in front, shielding his form from lustful eyes. Kohl-lined eyes looked at the food before they shifted their gaze to the guests, soft lips now curving into a smile as their owner readied himself to entertain them.

"My lords," he began as he remained seated in front of the table, "on behalf of the Prince, let me welcome you to the palace. It is my hope that you will be entertained by my words and my dance, and that you will find it in your hearts to choose one from among the many flowers of the Prince's garden to keep you company and warm your lonely hearts…" Violet eyes lit up with mischief as he added, "…and beds…at least for tonight."

Running his tongue along his upper lip, he leaned forward, reaching for the half of a fig that was placed in the fruit plate of one of the guests. To him, the fig was always the perfect topic of discussion, especially when his intention was to get his audience in the mood for a night of sensual bliss with the waiting concubines. As he looked at each guest and wondered which one of them would choose him, he began his story.

Holding up the fig, he presented it to his audience, announcing, "Gentlemen, let me introduce you to one of the most beautiful flowers to ever grace any man's garden -- the fig. Beautiful indeed, but clothed in mystery, for one cannot help being intrigued by the life of this delicate flower. While it is eaten like any sweet, succulent fruit, it is, in fact, a flower inverted into itself. It holds no blossom, for it is the blossom." Running a finger lightly along the fruit's skin, he went on, his voice a little softer yet laced with mischief, "When it is ripe, its skin is so soft that it bruises and tears easily. And gentlemen, we would not want that to happen to any of our flowers now, would we?" He laughed silently to himself as he watched the guests shake their heads with unease. No doubt, they were beginning to experience the discomfort that came with being aroused in public.

Turning the fig to show the guests the soft, pink flesh at its core, he inserted a finger into the delicate surface, lightly brushing the seeds, located at the sweetest area of the fruit. "Delicate and sweet, my lords, and such is accomplished only by the work of a wasp that lives inside it, manufacturing the seeds, for only this way can pollination occur." The gleam of mischief brightened some more when, not content with the mention of the fig wasp's work, he added, "And once the wasp has completed its task, it leaves the flower through a little opening…" His smile widened and his tongue came out again to trace the shape of soft, luscious lips before he finished, "…at the bottom."

He remained silent for a moment, observing the looks on the guests' faces, triumph crossing his features as he noticed beads of sweat that collected on the faces of a few. But one was not quite as affected, he noticed. The guest seemed to be made of stone, his face lacking expression even as those who were beside him could not hide their discomfort with their reaction to the concubine's story. It looked like this guest needed a little more work, and maybe he could take the temptation just a step further.

Extending his arm, he dipped the fig into the creamy lemon yogurt, watching the thick, white dip fill the opening. Parting his lips, he gave the guests a view of his tongue entering the yogurt filled core, picking up the thick, white liquid as he drew back. He could just see the men shifting in their seats, their obvious unease amusing him as he continued to tease, bringing the fig close to his lips again, this time letting his lips close on the delicate, moistened flesh, picking up some of the meat and seeds and letting the white stuff settle around his mouth. As he completed his first bite, he slipped his tongue out to lap up the milky dip, smiling at the guests as he went on to eat the half up. Each bite was more like a kiss, his lips coming so close, the action resembling suction more than it resembled a bite. As he savored the sweetness of the aphrodisiac, he moaned into his finishing bites, as if he were making love to the fruit, worshipping it with this oral tribute.

"Always carefully, my lords, is the way to eat a fig," he advised as the fruit continued to disappear between his naughty lips. "As delicate as it is, it must always be taken good care of. Once ripe, its cycle is so short, so one must never take it for granted lest it dry from its owner's neglect." He stole a glance at the strange guest and noticed that even this did not faze him. The lack of response was beginning to get to him, and he was wondering what he could do to get even the slightest bit of reaction from the stoic one.

Perhaps…a dance?

Having finished the fig, he got up, arms relaxed at his sides once more as he assumed his previous pose before the veil was removed from his face. His last words to the guests were, "Dine well, my lords, for this meal was prepared especially for you. Let the food…and entertainment…set the mood for this special night, and let these special flowers," he lifted one arm, extending it to the side as he motioned to the line of concubines that suddenly entered the room, "provide you with the kind of pleasure one believes only exists in dreams." Both male and female concubines entered, each one covered in veils of organdy or chiffon, the next totally different from the first. They made their way to the table, eventually seating themselves by the guests, so that one -- or more -- may be chosen, depending on each man's preference.

Turning his head toward the musicians, he clicked the zills as their cue to start. And so did the music begin, slow as it accompanied the soft sway of the dancer's hips. Though the dance was normally one that moved with gravity, the concubine's movements defied it, his steps light, body straight and in full height, as if he were suspended from the ceiling, held by a string as he danced. Little did the guests knowt eat each arm ripple, each undulation, each shimmy was actually a response to an imaginary lover who touched him every time he danced for the Prince's guests.

Even now, the sway of his hips as they drew a figure eight was brought about by the angling thrusts of pulsing flesh. His sounds of pleasure were so real, yet the touch was only imagined. As the unseen hands moved up along his sides, his arms lifted, still moving in ripples as they worked in concert with his hips. The play of light on the gemstones of his rings was reflected by his eyes, giving them an unusual transparency, as if light shone from behind the pupils, making him look more unreal, as unreal as the dream lover who moved him as he danced.

As the music picked up in tempo, so did his moves. Gyrating hips moving faster as the thrusts picked up their rhythm as well. His head tilted to the side, giving greater access to the invisible force as lips traced a fiery trail down the fine neck, his body beginning to bend back, shoulders rolling back as his hands simulated ocean waves. Then suddenly, he was pushed, his cue to start turning, the coin links flying as he spun, resembling metallic petals around the long, shapely stems of his legs. He stole a glance at the strange guest, wondering what his reaction to this show was so far…

Still no response.

Violet eyes flashed in anger at this insult. How dare he! While the other guests already had their hands on the concubines seated beside them, this one just would not budge! As if to help him with his next move, he felt the unseen hands push him forward, bringing him closer to the table. Lowering himself on one knee, he leaned forward, bringing his lips so close to one guest, inviting him to claim them in a kiss. But, when the guest tried to stake his claim, the dancer drew back, turning as he backed away, laughing and enjoying the power he had over the lustful creatures.

From then on, his eyes would not leave the stranger as he went on to tease more guests, offering his lips or tilting his head to invite kisses, then dancing away as each one would try to avail himself of what was being presented to him. But even as he danced, he noticed that the stranger's eyes were on him as well. Gazes locked in battle as their silent duel continued, one fierce as its owner sought to arouse, the other unyielding, its owner refusing to budge.
At that point, he thought that more drastic measures were needed. Perhaps, if he made the touch real instead of just a tease, then the guest would respond. And, he knew exactly how he was going to do it.

The music slowed as his movements did the same. Slow and seductive was the key to getting a reaction out of this stranger as he continued to move, the imaginary lover gone as his mind focused on the unmoving guest. Getting down on one knee, he drew closer, his lips only an inch away from those of the stranger, teasing with only the slightest touch as he said, "Let my kisses be the wine that quenches your thirst. Even the sweetness of mead will never match…this…" Only then did he let their lips fully touch, eyes closing, his tongue making its way out as he felt the stranger's lips part as well. So the guest finally yielded! As he tried to move back to finally tear himself away from the stranger, he suddenly discovered that he could not. His hand was caught in a firm but gentle grip, and when he opened his eyes, he found the stranger's eyes on him as well, the darkened pines reflecting desire and…challenge.

"Don't start something you can't finish," the guest whispered against his lips as he tied the silk scarf around the concubine's wrist. So the stranger had a voice!

The dancer smiled into the kiss, his free hand wandering until it found the cup of mead. As he pretended to surrender to the stranger's kiss, he posied hed his free hand where he wanted it and began to pour the beverage onto the guest's crotch. He finally broke the kiss, a smile of satisfaction curving his lips as he looked at the stae mae made right at that spot. But as soon as he set the cup back on the table, he found his free hand caught as well, only to be guided to the soft swelling between the stranger's legs. He tried to pull away, but the other man's grip was too strong for him. And, to his surprise, not only was his hand right where the stranger wanted it, but right beside the other man's plate was…his veil! This was the guest who had caressed his cheek earlier!

"Children must not play games meant only for grown-ups," the guest continued, this time moving the concubine's hand along the crotch of his pants.

The dancer's eyes widened as he felt the sleeping flesh awaken, no longer soft but hard, growing as he noticed his hands move farther, still guided by the other man's grip. His breathing changed, no longer regular but coming in quick pants as he began to panic, struggling to pull his hand away, but to no avail. All he could do to compensate for his inability to break free was voice his outrage.

"How dare you address me in such a manner, sir!" he hissed, his anger growing at the man's audacity. He was the Prince's favorite, and he was not going to tolerate being treated like a common whore! Once the opportunity presented itself, he was going to have this man thrown out of the palace.

It was only then that the slightest trace of a smile was seen on the stranger's lips. Green eyes continued to challenge the dancer's violet ones as he answered, "I have made my choice for the night." He stood up and, to the concubine's surprise, put the dancer over his shoulder, he move drawing a scream out of his struggling prey. He raised one long leg, walking over the table as if it were a hurdle, and then followed with his other leg. Turning to the other guests, he bowed to them as he said, "Good night, my lords. May this night be filled with as much pleasure for you as it will be for me." And he turned toward the exit, walking away with the screaming concubine as the cheers of the other guests followed them out of the room.
 

***************************
Note: As to what happens next, that remains to be seen in the next chapter. I have associated one of my drawings with this fic. That will identify the character who is paired with Malik in this story.