When The World Ends

Summary:  Brief encounter between Ardeth and Ancksunamun.  Not set in any particular timeline.  This was inspired by an idea I had that may or may not ever become an actual story, but I had to get this scene in anyway. ;-)

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Those were ancient eyes, concealing ancient secrets and held grim with terrible purpose—both male and female determined this battle being waged would win them the victory in some old feud between them.  The desert was peaceful, caressed by moonlight and quiet, but the battlefield was alive with the call for blood this night.  For she could not be allowed to awaken the creature and he could not be allowed to stop her from reuniting with her love.

So they danced.

Strong, he was, this warrior of God and champion of all that was good.  Masculine and powerful, but those eyes bespoke a sharp wisdom that would not abuse such regal traits as he possessed.  The woman privately enjoyed looking into those smoldering depths.  They were intense, beautiful and deadly.  They matched his form and face.  Beneath a long, black robe that hid too much from the eye she doubted not would be found the perfect body of a warrior, hardened by trial, molded by fire and hard as granite.  Lithe, quick and incontestably stronger.  Such might within her foe and all he had was to but catch her for a single moment unaware, remove her weapons from the equation and overpower her with his skill.  Then the battle would be his.  She would have to watch her back.

The Med-Jai traced the circle of path with his enemy as they held locked eyes, learning as he could through subtle, rapid glances that taught him all he would need to know to disarm her.  The two long bladed daggers clasped tightly within each feminine hand could prove deadly with ease, for the way she held herself told him clearly she knew both how to use them and how to overcome the need should he manage to knock one or both away.  This one would have to be watched or his blood would meet her steel if he assumed too much and grew overconfident.  She was a deadly viper not to be underestimated, sinuous and ready to strike at the first opportunity, hypnotic with those eyes so very alien and so very familiar at once.  She was deceptively beautiful, but he was no fool.

The assessment between them came to a close with the first blow, easily deflected by the warrior.  A test strike, not meant to truly damage, but to analyze his response time and catalogue his reflexes, how ready he was to throw full strength into it, how gullible into wearing himself out that she gain a stronghold over her larger rival.  He knew enough not to fall into such a trap and she smiled when his flamberge swept her dagger away without betraying the full extent of his power.  At this change in expression, from so deadly grave to the blatant enjoyment of so simple a gesture, the Med-Jai tilted his head and reconsidered his opinion of her.  What was once an assurance of cold drive towards one purpose within his evaluation became the portrait of one who enjoyed battle, lusted for the dance and would ultimately prove more capable.  And he wondered again who this ancient force was.

“Med-Jai.”  It was a word that rolled off her tongue pleasantly, but came with bitter revulsion.  Within this beautiful creature’s hands were the choices of evil and good, death and life, hands that had stripped her of her freedom and her lover’s soul.  No other word, not even the name of the one who held her heart, drew such passion…and hate.  Med-Jai were blind.  Med-Jai were destroyers.  Med-Jai had taken it upon themselves to play god and determine a man’s eternity for him, giving him no hope of redemption.  Such a loathed word to speak and still she was grateful for this chance to play with and kill one.

The companion to that word was on his lips without reason, an age old greeting that awakened something inside him upon utterance.  “Princess.”  Slave.  The two were meshed within both their minds, one title could not exist without the other.  This slave-princess tested him again with a stronger attack that he defended against with the turn of his wrist and the swing of his sword.  Metal against metal scraping slowly broke the silence on the last blow as each drew back their weapon.  The fight was on.

She swung her right arm easily and his flamberge blocked and protected his sun-bronzed flesh, and the sudden turn of his body evaded the strike of her second weapon, but only very narrowly.  Ardeth Bay thrust himself away from the vicious attack, pushed her blade high above, sending her off balance as he ducked beneath, drew his sword from the dagger and attempted a strike at her breast.  Ah, but this one was quick.  Sensing his moves, tracking them like a desert cat, Ancksunamun pulled herself away in time to escape with damage done only to the fine, black sleeve of her form-fitting blouse.  The skin beneath glimmered beyond the dark cloth, calling his attention with ease.

Ancksunamun swept her flowing tresses back across her shoulder and with an angry hiss, hunkered down as if she were making ready to pounce, her daggers aimed with deliberate intent towards him.  This time it was he that turned the tide of assumptions and offered a handsome, challenging smile.  This only served to increase her distaste of him.  The slave-princess struck again and trained her eyes upon his muscled form, looking for the proper movement to take advantage of.  Her right hand thrust the dagger dangerously close to his shoulder and while the Med-Jai was preoccupied with deflecting, she landed a swift kick to his unguarded side.

The Med-Jai groaned and stumbled, but recovered in time to grasp her wrist and prevent his sudden death as she targeted his heart for the sweet bite of her blade.  Ancksunamun cried out in futile rage as he jerked her towards him and into his arms.  The warrior’s warm breath smoothed down her neck as he breathed the scent of her hair, holding her struggles with as much effort as if he were trying to tame a wild animal.  Her back was against his firm chest and the arms around her unyieldingly tight as he wrestled her towards his horse.

An elbow to the stomach convinced him to loosen his grip enough to allow her blade to penetrate his defenses.  The brave warrior gasped with the new cut being forged upon his left thigh and angrily shoved his bounty to the sand.  She anticipated his next move flawlessly, kicking her legs up just as he crouched to hold her down to the desert floor, twisted her body with a kick and flipped herself to her feet, gifted her enemy with the grit of the earth his face upon her rise.  The large warrior instinctively turned his face and backed away, then shook the grains from his dark mane with a fiery glare.  Ancksunamun drank in that expression with enjoyment.  It was beautiful and passionate.

Ardeth raised his left arm bent parallel to his shoulders in defense and always the gentleman, waited for her to make the next move.  Ancksunamun was nothing if not impetuous and obliged him quite willingly, first with her right blade, then with her left.  The flamberge in his grasp clanged loudly against her first attempt and his free hand darted towards her second, just escaping the fall of her dagger as he went for her wrist again.  Startled by the proximity of his vice-like grip the princess dropped her blade to the ground, sacrificing an advantage to maintain her precarious freedom.

She was a strong fighter and under other circumstances the Med-Jai would have praised her for her ability and the way she seemed to learn his movements with ease.  It was refreshing to him, to fight so gifted a warrior.  Strength in body did not always accompany strength in mind and sometimes the latter could overcome the former.  He had the obvious upper hand when it came to sheer force, but she matched him strategy for strategy and blow for blow.  This one was as deadly as an asp and he found himself anticipating each of her moves with interest.  Too quickly the blast of a gun stole the art of swordplay these days.

With only one weapon left Ancksunamun was bit more discriminating with her attacks and this time waited until he struck first.  Bay thrust towards her abdomen, but did not allow his arm to bend and his elbow to lock so he could quickly add to that a twist of his hand to evade her deflection and find rest in the tender flesh of her side, but where he had strength she had agility and a smaller, lighter and more easily moved frame.  Ancksunamun whipped away from his attack, then returned her eyes to his, blocking another thrust of his deadly weapon as it was delivered.  Instead of dodging her kick, however, Ardeth took it full force and used that chance to catch her ankle and twist until she fell with a cry.  This time he would not let her get the best of him, and so they crashed.

She raced up on all fours, but he was too quick as he dropped down and pushed her to the sand, forgetting his flamberge in the dust beside the contest being waged.  Ancksunamun struggled beneath him for freedom, but Ardeth returned her fight vigorously, covering her with his body and grasping for her remaining weapon.  He wrapped his hand around her small wrist and squeezed until she whimpered and allowed the dagger to fall.

This creature, however, would not be subdued easily, though she was close.  The slave-princess hurled herself upwards into his body using all her strength and caused Bay to lose his balance.  But not for long.  The fight was clearly his.  Rising on his knees to keep from rolling off of her, Ardeth watched as she began crawling from beneath his power.  The girl almost growled, quite viciously at that, when his left arm curled around her waist and his right gripped her shoulder, forcing her down again.  Her body hit the sand and he knew to gain utter control he was going to have to get her to her back.  So pinning her waist beneath a loose straddle, Ardeth wrapped his long fingers around her small, firm arm and began turning her.  Then he noticed something.  She was giving in too easily, allowing him to overpower her now without struggle and even aiding this certain goal.

The Med-Jai closed his eyes and was not disappointed with the sand hit him again.  It slapped him in the face, then was gone and she was facing him when he dared open his vision to her again.  That beautiful face glared daggers at him from below as he pushed her wrists into the dirt.  The wild cat had been subdued and Ardeth breathed easy now.  So fair she was, so furious and utterly pleasant for a tired warrior to look upon.

With that realization the moment seemed to freeze and become more intense.  They were two sides of the same coin, both portraying differing pictures and yet somehow tied in by lust of the battle and mutual respect for the other’s talents.  They were different and yet alike in small ways.  Did the past call them to this moment in time?  The Med-Jai was struck with a sudden urge to tame this creature with a method far more gentle than fighting seeped into his thoughts and without fully understanding why, the succumbed to man’s age-old weakness.

Ancksunamun struggled as he closed in on her ruby lips and captured them in an embrace she could not break free from.  Of that mouth he tasted freely and at length, seeking peace in the new quiet between them.  She yanked and pulled to free her wrists from his hands, but to no avail.  She was trapped beneath his exploration and could do nothing but allow those seeking, gentle lips of his to pry hers apart so he could add his own moisture to hers.

The kiss was demanding and desirable, causing the princess to relax as though he were a lover and not a Med-Jai.  When it ended her left arm was released and wondering why, she endured the caress of his palm down her now burning cheek.  Her senses became suddenly filled with new insights; heavy warmth pressed down onto her body, rough-but-gentle fingers touching her jaw, the feral glitter of his eyes and the manly scent of battle mingling with the desert air.  It awoke in her a forgotten fire that seemed to have burned in solitude for ages.

The Med-Jai tilted his head and looked her face over with a softness that greatly contrasted the rage of his combat, but they were enemies.  This could not happen, but even as both knew that they did little to prevent it.  When those black eyes finished an appreciating sweep the warrior belonging to them pet her hair and closed in again.  This time she gasped and shifted beneath him, causing him to pause his descent.  Her eyes widened in anticipation and his were no less surprised by this new interaction between them.  He too wondered at his own actions, for this woman was his foe, could be a criminal and was the love of his sacred adversary.  Yet those lips called to him in a way he could not fight.  So he kissed her again and her struggles became less ardent.  She tasted of fear and of desire.

Ancksunamun whimpered beneath his hold, wanting to escape him and her sudden thoughts of forsaking her duty for a few blessed moments.  His chest pressed against hers and his breathing sharply caught her attention as he freed her other arm to slide his beneath her and up around her shoulder blade to cradle her shaking body.  Within her mouth his tongue sought every hidden source of pleasure without repentance and those eyes, so pretty and so dark, asked both of them the fatal question of what would happen now.

They gave in to the moment, into what they both knew to be wrong, but could not fight.  The heat was too real and the adrenaline from fighting still coursed through their veins like a river.  Ancksunamun drew her arms up over his strong back to gain a hold on his broad shoulders so she could draw her enemy closer, returning those impetuous kisses of his with a fire all her own.  The Med-Jai groaned his appreciation into her lips, now more at ease with pushing her further into the yielding ground.  His fingers swept through the sand quickly on the trip up and accepted their destination of black hair mingled with tiny, rough grains.  The tactile sensation of touching that hair only increased his drive.

His kiss moved pleasantly away from her mouth, missed but enjoyed, as he tasted her cheek, her jaw and more.  Ancksunamun tensed when his mouth found her sensitive throat while below his hand sought more than just that which could be seen.  Her shirt became loosed of its belt freely and the flesh of her side was greeted by strong seeking.  Ardeth Bay took as much care in his soft ministrations as he did with fighting.  When her inhale sharpened as his caress made a lengthy trail to her chest, he stopped his kissing to admire her pretty face.  She was caught up in the moment, her eyes hunting him like an enthralled predator.

Ancksunamun took that predatory gaze to a physical extent as she reached for his belt, unclasped it and parted the fabric of his embroidered robe.  The body beneath was just as she had imagined, strong and appetizing.  The body of an ardent warrior who had cultivated his strength to perfection.  Giving him a victorious little smile the princess snaked her arm up into that cloth and curled around his waist, yanking him over her again so he would resume.  She could feel his want and wanted fully to satiate it, just as much as she had wanted to kill him for what he was.

Bay closed his eyes as her fingers made a trail to the rim of his pants and began tracing the threshold, pawing at his flesh and asking for more.  Why he was doing this, why she allowed it, neither knew, but when she found the entrance to what lay beneath his clothing and fingered the button open, both accepted what was going to happen with building impatience.  Again Ardeth dove into her kiss as his fingers pulled the fabric of her black skirt, coaxing the material up her thigh.  When it reached the upper portion of her leg he let it go and reached within.

Ancksunamun gasped as his hand smoothed up her thigh to grip the only thing left barring his path, but the warrior would not allow her breath for long, capturing her again and pausing the trail of underwear at her hipbone to concentrate on the kiss.  The princess moaned softly in need of air, which he gave her in breaks that only allowed her mere seconds before being smothered by his passion once more.

This was wholly unfair, she thought, and so decided to play her own little games with this desert fighter.  She allowed him his breath-taking kiss, his teasing caress at her hip, and was pleased when his mouth halted momentarily while her hand did a little searching of its own.  Ancksunamun felt the Med-Jai smile into her lips as she reached beyond his pants to the hot flesh of his thigh.  Those were powerful legs, hard and smooth against her palm as she rubbed a sheen of fine moisture.  The warrior inhaled sharply and nuzzled against the skin beneath ear in appreciation, before grasping her silk underwear in haste.

Driven to want of more intimate contact with this desert creature, Ardeth smoothed the lacy fabric over the curve of her hip, winning a gasp and hungry smile from his companion.  The tension between them building brought about another contest of wills as their limbs entangled in a blur of motion to reveal the other.  The Med-Jai got her underwear about halfway down the length of her thigh before Ancksunamun became frustrated and pushed the offending arm that blocked her own descent away with a huff.  Ardeth grinned at this, winning back that smile of hers, but the humor was rapidly replaced by urgency when he pulled away and discontinued his journey at her ankle.

The princess bit her bottom lip as he pulled the fabric away and left it in the sand.  She accepted his weight over her with a sudden drive to forget her purpose here, pushing aside all that barred his way, clothing and inhibitions.  For what would come now she was already prepared and in the quiet of the desert and his eyes she found the will to abandon her duty just as he did.  Her Med-Jai enemy-lover took one last look at what was before him, then lay fully down to claim what she would give.  Ancksunamun tilted her head back and inhaled the night with gasp of satisfaction.

Arms circled his waist within the heat of his robe, crawling over the flesh of his lower back and urging his hips down, then releasing to do it all over again.  Ardeth rewarded her neck with a trail of kisses leading to her ear as he lost himself to this mad version of reality.  Something in time called for this, something lost in the stars and forgotten between them, then brought alive by this meeting and their eternal struggle.  In all the wrong he allowed just now this something clung to him, whispering a right hidden within, a secret message he may never understand.  The warrior woman beneath him embraced him close, rubbing her cheek against his in a tender movement he recognized, prompting his lips to offer of his taste again.

Ancksunamun’s mouth opened to his and he found himself gone to this moment as her legs twined within his, those dark eyes calling his with a song he knew yet could not recall to mind.  Ardeth groaned into her kiss and she let go as he moved against her, trailing her fingertips up his stomach, chest and finally to his shoulder.  She danced with him and ripped his robe aside to expose his muscle, tasting of his throat and shoulder blade, drawing him further into the net.

The warrior groaned again, a husky sound filled with desire that sent chills through Ancksunamun, causing her to smile against his hot flesh and wrap her arms around him in personal hug she should not award her enemy.  Yet of this she did not care anymore and gave in to the personal all the same.  He moved with her movements and easily fell to his side with her silent suggestion, holding to her with desperate movements that did not want to lose the rhythm between them.  Ancksunamun felt her fingers tighten against the skin of his back, her nails doubtlessly marking him with her want.

Ardeth closed his eyes when she smoothed a hand down his cheek, brushing away his dark hair, then reawakened them with a deep fire inside as he accepted her over him.  His hand returned that gesture fully, but stayed within the tangle of her tresses and pulled her lips back to his.  He could taste the feeling of what built within his enemy in the way she gave voice to her kiss.  His other hand he brought up from the sand, abandoning the gritty particles for her arm, softening the silky sleeve of her blouse as he traveled to her hand.  Her forehead fell to his as Ardeth tangled her fingers into his grasp and began moving more urgently.  Her kiss became quick breaths ever just as sweet as he pushed her away from the reality beyond Hamunaptra in the dark.

Her voice and breath gained volume against his mouth and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, keeping her down to him as she lost herself to her senses against him, still moving to drive her further and kissing her enough to make her forget the fight between them for the moment.  Ancksunamun closed her eyes as she let go and let her desire wash through her, body and soul.  Somewhere within her senses she could feel him tense with his own loss, his strength drawing her trembling body against his and his voice giving over to deep throated sounds of pleasure.  She savored the storm of passion and the panting that came after, accepting the too soon intrusion of coherency as it came.

His brow was slick beneath her thumb as she traced his hairline, returning the search his eyes engaged in with hers.  Now sanity came to them and with that the realization that the moment was done and filed away in their history.  It brought to them both a sense of longing and in the darkest depths of their hopes a secret wish this would not be the last meeting.  Yet reality could not be avoided any longer and the Med-Jai spoke when it dawned in her eyes.  “The fight is mine.  Do you concede?”

He sat with her as Ancksunamun pulled herself to her knees on shaky legs and retrieved her underwear.  Not bothering to step into the fabric, she stood and he stood with her, closing himself to her.  Her dark eyes traveled up his robe to his with both a wish and a pledge.  “The fight is yours.  But you know I will return.”  The wind caressed a lock of her dark mane across her face as she glanced towards the open desert behind the City of the Dead, then back.  He saw with that look that there could be no doubt the contest had not yet reached an end.  She would be back and to that he could make no other promise.

“And when you come I will be here.”

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Disclaimer:  No infringement intended.  Author:  Ruse [email protected]  Distribution:  Lemme know, please.  Keep author/email attached.  Rated PG13 or R if you’re more inclined.  Don’t think it’s any worse than what you’d see on Buffy.

A/N:  I’ve been working on this one for quite a while…forgot it for some time too.  But, listening to the softer toned songs of my new Matrix2 soundtrack, I got the urge to complete it. :-D  Anyway, this isn’t really anything…just practicing two things I find daunting at times to write. ;-)

Thanks to anyone that reviews…if needed, I’ll tag a personal thank-you at the end of my next chapter of Speak Softly. :-)