by Tara Gill
The newcomers gently nudged him away. “Your proximity doesn’t help. Let us take care of her.”
“Very well.” Barghurr retreated to the door and paced anxiously, glancing at what he could see of a red-faced Mia, who was surrounded by concerned females in colourful dresses and clanking jewellery.
A female fanned Mia, and Mia sighed with pleasure. Someone handed her a glass of cool liquid and she sipped it. The liquid was sweet and tasted unlike anything she’d ever drunk before, but it moistened her parched mouth and cooled her body.
“Thank…ks, it helps,” Mia managed.
“Give her some more,” Barghurr ordered, when another woman entered the chamber, her black waist length-hair glinting under the sunrays sloping in from large arched windows.
He spun towards the stranger. “Faheme! She needs your attention.”
Ah, so this is the woman who is a doctor. As Faheme neared Mia, everyone moved some feet away. Mia squinted at her. Stunning in her appearance, Faheme wore a sheer, full-sleeved, white dress that fell to the floor in straight lines. It exposed her arms completely. Freedom of movement was afforded by a long slit in the dress that ran from her ankle up to the upper thigh. Even amid her dazed confusion, Mia barely managed to stifle a gasp at the scandalous nature of Faheme’s attire.
Underneath Faheme’s overdress, she wore a blue-breastband and a small wrap around her hips that only just covered her buttocks. A golden chain adorned her waist. She bore no other jewelry. With her glowing skin, thick wavy tresses and pink lips, Faheme did not need any.
In fact, the other women here also sported similar appearances with sun-touched skin, muscled bodies and shockingly translucent dresses.
Mia’s vision clouded, and she blinked, raising a shaking hand to her temple. “I can’t see very clearly.”
“It will be all right, My Lady, let me examine you.” Faheme’s black-gold eyes assessed her dispassionately. The woman touched her forehead with elegant fingers, and Mia flinched. The touch burned. Faheme examined her eyes, took her wrist and held it for some moments. Without ceremony, she tugged off Mia’s housecoat and pulled down the front of her nightgown, scrutinising her flushed chest.
Mia gave an inarticulate sound of protest, her modesty remonstrating against Faheme’s actions. Faheme soothed her in an unusually hoarse voice which was oddly attractive to Mia’s ear. “It will be all right. Ladies, we need privacy. Barghurr, please stay where you are, I have some questions.”
The other women left the chamber. Faheme walked over to Barghurr moving with an animal grace. Her limbs and stomach were not soft like other gentlewomen on Earth, but rather tight, muscled and lithe. “Do not worry Barghurr, it is only the heat.”
He frowned, looking concerned. His lion was frowning at her too. Was he worried for Mia?
Mia tried to give him a weak smile, but she felt confused at Faheme’s words. She hadn’t been exposed to the sun to get a heatstroke. Mayhap the transition from Earth to Lionhaeme affected her adversely?
“It is nothing serious? Can it be treated?” Mia whispered.
Faheme glanced towards her. “Of course. It is not a serious condition. We will treat it, and Lord Barghurr will take care of you. Soon you will be perfectly fine.”
She then turned to Barghurr, and they spoke in low voices, but bits of conversation came Mia’s way. She closed her eyes and focused on hearing them, her chest heaving erratically.
“Barghurr, did any exchange of fluids take place? She is having a very strong reaction!”
Barghurr’s voice sounded gravelly. “I have…tasted her essence for over a week now.” Mia blushed at the intimacies he was sharing with another woman. Well, Faheme was a doctor, and one did not have secrets from one’s doctor, Mia consoled herself.
“I barely held myself back from taking her, but still I managed. Today, however, she kissed me, and I…could not resist.” Barghurr’s voice became guttural at this and Mia’s fingers curled on her housecoat, remembering how lost in passion she had become during that unforgettable kiss. Their first kiss. “It lasted for barely more than a minute, but it appears that she is sensitive.”
Faheme’s voice was brisk. “We must have the mating soon. She cannot withstand its effects much longer. Does your lady possess any magical strength that might help lessen the intensity?”
“She is mortal.”
“Ah, that must be why she is so susceptible. Your poor mother had her witching powers to help her deal with the heat, but it looks like your lady is bearing the full brunt.”
“Yes, and the bond is strong, Faheme. She can see my lion.”
“Already?” Faheme gasped.
At that, Mia blinked her eyes open.
He looked agitated, his lion snarling. “The bond pulls at me and I cannot bear to see her suffer. My lion is frantic.”
“Leave it all to us. Be ready this evening when the sun falls, at the Aetherium and your mate shall be ready for you.” Faheme bowed slightly to Barghurr, who towered over her.
“Very well. Take care of her, Faheme. She is everything to me now,” With a tortured look at Mia, his lion chimera growling, Barghurr left.
*
Mia closed her eyes as someone wiped her forehead with a cool cloth. They had long ago pulled off her coat, and she was left in her thin nightgown which felt better against her skin, though not by much.
“Prepare yourself, My Lady. I must transport you to the grooming chambers.” Faheme warned in her rasping voice. There was another disorientating spin, and Mia found herself in a long, narrow chamber lined with mirrors on one side. The other side had many small cubicles inside which water from pipes poured down to be drained away through holes in the floor.
As she swayed on her feet, a couple of the woman caught her. “We’ve got her.”
Pulling her from Faheme’s hold, they laid her out on a stone bench, which was surprisingly comfortable against her heated skin. It seemed almost sentient and adjusted to fit the contours of her body. The women undressed her. Normally Mia would have protested the lack of privacy, but the cool air felt like heaven. She sighed in pleasure and managed to murmur, “What is the grooming chamber used for?”
“We are making you ready for the mating ceremony, My Lady.” One of the women, a friendly-looking tawny blonde answered her. An exquisitely decorated ivory fan in hand, she started to fan Mia.
Mia groaned in pleasure. “That feels wonderful, thank you. Barghurr…I mean Lord Barghurr mentioned a permanent mating. What does the ceremony involve exactly?” Barghurr had been close-mouthed on what a permanent mating mark involved. Maybe this female could be prevailed on to share more of the particulars. Even unwell, naked and out of control, Mia sought knowledge, knowing it was key to gaining control of her substantially changed circumstances.
The woman paused fanning Mia and gave a nervous laugh. “For one, it involves a lot of pleasure. But if you seek more answers, I would suggest that you ask Lord Barghurr yourself. He is your mate—the best person to tell you of our world, our customs. The brides of the King are always from other Planes and it can be hard for them to adjust to our ways at first, although they fall in soon enough. It is best to get into the habit of trusting your mate and looking to him for the answers, though of course, we are always there to help.”
If someone had asked Mia if she trusted Barghurr before today, she would have said she was not sure. After today though, seeing with her own eyes the anguish in his eyes as he had left her earlier, and hearing his words about her, she was convinced that Barghurr cared for her.
“I do trust him. Why do you? What is he to you?” Mia raised her eyebrows, resisting the impulse to cover her naked body. The other women bustled about scarcely seeming to give her nudity a second thought.
The blonde continued fanning Mia, which served to cool her body and clear Mia’s mind. “Lord Barghurr is the King of Lionhaeme and rules over us all, as his family has done for generations.”
Oh. This woman was proving to be a fount of
information. Mia focused on her. She wore a grey gown with pink undergarments—of the same style as Faheme—and possessed a cheerful demeanour. “I see. What is your name, if I may ask?”
“Call me Cather. You’re so lucky to be chosen as Lord Barghurr’s mate. So many beautiful women from other planes have tried to catch his eye,” Cather waggled her eyebrows. “Our King is powerful, wealthy and handsome but he has never looked twice at even the most stunning among them. But he seems gone over you. He was so worried earlier.”
Mia’s heart sank at hearing the information that Barghurr was a sought-after bachelor. “It is surprising that he didn’t choose someone more remarkable than me,” she whispered, feeling that familiar sense of inadequacy rising in her. The one she had felt far too often—like when other children in her village celebrated Christmas with their family, and she had to settle for wishes from the few servants who had stayed with her and try to ignore the looks of pity that came her way.
She bit her lip, attempting to have faith in Barghurr and in his choice of her. Heat or no, it didn’t escape Mia that the women in this place were extraordinarily beautiful. She wondered that Barghurr had chosen insipid, bookish her—someone with no dowry, or title, or exceptional beauty—out of so many better options. Her chest felt heavy. Pushing away her feelings of hopelessness with an effort, she managed, “This building, it is astonishing…what is this place?”
“Oh, this is the Harem, where all the lionesses live with our children. We share a compound with the King’s estate, as his main responsibility is to protect us from the Rogue lions who would kill our babes or force us to mate with them and bear their children. The Rogues hate the King and his family, but Lord Barghurr holds powerful magic, and the Rogues live on his mercy.” Cather wore a bloodthirsty look as if she relished the Rogues’ helplessness in the face of her King.
Mia’s eyes widened. All this sounded extremely dangerous. “So, these Rogue lions would hurt you, hurt Barghurr?” She stammered, a trembling hand pushing her hair back, her voice rising.
“Enough, Cather. Stop alarming Lady Mia.” Faheme who had vanished for a while, entered the chamber again. Staring into Mia’s eyes steadily, she said, “My Lady, this is a time of preparation, of calm and introspection. Think of your future with Barghurr and all that you’d like it to be. Send thoughts for the wellbeing of your union to the universe. The Spirit of the Catuli, who watches over the denizens of Lionhaeme will surely hear you and bless you with a long and full life. Remember to be open to new things. Remember, the world offers more than you may know.” Faheme’s voice lowered at the last to a hoarse whisper.
Taking her advice, and overcome by the haze heating her body, now that Cather had moved away and was no longer fanning her, Mia closed her eyes, dwelling on Barghurr and what she hoped for their union. Her parents expected that she would marry Lord Barghurr. Mia had not been so certain but Barghurr’s reception to her confession that she was not a virgin was unexpected but also kind. He seemed a good man, protective and strong. She could not deny the physical attraction between them.
Could she ask for more in a husband?
Perhaps there was something to what their Seer had said about them being mates. Perhaps kindness and respect and attraction could grow into more…
She tried to think deep thoughts of respect and friendship, for that was all she dared hope for in a marriage. However, her thoughts were disobedient, darting to the memory of his passionate kiss, his rough touch and how she longed for the courage to reciprocate what he had done to her in her dreams. She wanted to touch, lick and bite. Her body ached, feeling hungry, needing to be filled. She moved her legs restlessly.
“Oh dear, her heat is increasing. I can smell it,” Cather frowned.
They can smell me? Mia shifted in embarrassment and bit her lip.
Faheme laid a cool hand on her forehead and said in soothing tones, “We are going to wash and groom you for the ceremony. This will help cool your body down. You are in safe hands, My Lady. Just give yourself unto our care and relax.”
When Faheme moved away, the others crowded around Mia, all sorts of bottles and implements in hand. One of them poured frigid water over Mia and she gasped in shock. Then every part of Mia was washed and scrubbed. A cool, white cream was applied all over her skin with the exception of her face. Not an inch was spared. They even applied it on her womanly parts and between her buttocks.
Mia squeaked in embarrassment when they spread the cream there, but Faheme spoke mollifying words to pacify her. Their touch was quick and impersonal, so Mia didn’t have much time to protest. “The cream is harmless and will help make your skin smooth for your mate.”
For a few minutes, they left her covered in the unguents, while a woman seated in a corner played relaxing music on the harp. The cool ablutions and the gentle music helped her mind to centre, and she was able to think.
Today she would be mated with Barghurr, the King of Lionhaeme, a man of power and responsibilities and also a powerful magic-wielder. Her life would take a path that no one could have predicted. Yet somehow Mia felt a flicker of hope that this was a turn for the better.
Barghurr had so many interesting facets and Mia found she was curious to know more of his life. As his wife, it would also be her duty to ease his burdens and be a support to him. Yet fear whispered in her ear. So many people had let her down in her life: her parents through neglect, Tom through death, her so-called Society friends by seeing only what they wanted to see and turning away from the rest.
Barghurr had hinted of love in his earlier words to her and her hungry heart ached with hope. But a wary Mia could not help but fear that Barghurr would be another in the list to disappoint and hurt her.
Stop it. She clenched her jaw. I will not be self-defeating. I will be brave and fight for my happiness. If Barghurr can risk his life, fight many of his own kind to protect these women and their babes, then I can fight for our happiness. She squared her resolved shoulders.
Then they were wiping the cream away with a wet cloth. Mia was surprised to discover all her bodily hair went with it, even the ones under her arms and between her legs. She asked, “Is that the purpose of the cream?”
“Among others, my lady. You’ll never have to worry about grooming again. The hair will not grow back.”
Mia wasn’t sure what to think. Such grooming practices were certainly not the custom in Victorian England, but she knew women in other Earth cultures, notably Egyptian women did remove intimate hair. She also couldn’t deny that she felt cleaner and cooler.
“Removing the hair this way is quite harmless compared to many other barbaric ways. It is also quite hygienic as it prevents body odour and lice infestation,” Faheme informed Mia.
Mia’s nose scrunched. Lice infestation? “In that case, I am all for this. Thank you, I feel better now. What… is the heat, exactly?” she asked, curious.
“When a fated pair first mate, they come into heat and will rut for a few weeks until the female is with child. As for you—” Faheme gave her an assessing look. “You are young and may not want children just yet. Barghurr will ensure you are ready for a child before he gives you one, so do not worry.”
Mia thought that over. Perhaps Barghurr could control conception with magic. Still, she adored children. She had always wanted a big family for her very own. However, she was intrigued by what Faheme said about the mating. “So, this heat—it happens to fated mates of all species then? I ask, because it is not a common phenomenon on Earth.”
“Earth.” Faheme’s mouth curled and she sounded contemptuous. “It is a rather backward plane, especially for a woman.”
When Mia frowned, Faheme smiled at her and patted her hand. “You are going to rediscover yourself here, My Lady. You asked about the heat. Yes, it holds true for all species who mate with our lions and lionesses. The ones with magic are able to withstand it better, of course, but they still experience it to a degree. It is triggered when there is an exchange of bodily fluids such as
a kiss or sexual fluids.” Faheme seemed blasé about her words though Mia’s cheeks heated as she listened. “From what Barghurr said, he has been in heat himself for a few days and hence his pheromones are stronger than ever. However, he has leashed himself, as he knows you need him to be controlled. This is easier for him as he possesses immense magic. His family created Lionhaeme, you know—out of thin air, with sheer magic. But today you kissed him of your own volition. While he tried to protest, he was weakened himself, being in heat, and could not resist you.”
“Oh, so this is my own fault.” Mia pressed her palms to her heated cheeks.
Faheme smiled, looking sympathetic. “It was bound to happen, My Lady. Your discomfort should end with the consummation.”
Mia bit her lip. Of course, the mating would involve consummation. “Does that create a permanent mating bond?”
Faheme glanced away, seemingly checking the other women who were chatting in quiet voices, gathering more things to use on Mia. “In a way,” Faheme replied, not answering her directly. “Barghurr is the best of men and will treat you like a queen. You are indeed lucky in your mate, Lady Mia. I urge you to trust in him. His integrity is beyond reproach. Barghurr loves you and will put your care above everything else. It is in his nature.”
Mia fell quiet. So, there would be a consummation today. Well, she wasn’t too worried. She trusted Barghurr with her body. Although her body felt strange and unfamiliar and it left her feeling a tad out of control. She wished she had a mother or a familiar female figure whom she could cling to. As much as they had been kind to her, Mia felt a bit out of depth in this strange place among all these beautiful women who clearly worshipped Barghurr. She sighed and hugged herself, feeling cold.
Sensing her uneasiness, Faheme’s elegant hand closed on hers. “Fear not, My Lady. You are in safe hands and are beloved,” she spoke sincerely.
Mia met her steady gaze and Faheme stared back as if to convince her of the truth of her words. The tightness in her chest eased and Mia breathed freer. She squeezed Faheme’s hand and released it with a nod, feeling more grounded.
