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tamingthemuseTitle: Untitled
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Kitchen Gadgets
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: Just when they get used to a new home, Jacky and Mata’ka’ala find that nowhere is really safe for long.
Sometimes twice a day, the god sent Jacky to sleep and left him to wake wishing for a great change to come, for someone to rescue him, hating his life. Sometimes twice a day Jacky would wake in the middle of the day and sulk in their shared room until Mata'ka'ala came to him and forced him out to explore the city as it was being rebuilt.
This part, Jacky didn't mind.
He loved listening to the people talk, learning new dialects and patterns of speech. He fumbled with the language and the people were patient with him as he learned to become fluent. His training let his tongue adapt quickly to the new language, and he impressed all with his quick mastering of their speech.
He still resented the god inside him, but found he could t hate the mother goddess when she enfolded him in her loving embrace. She and Mata'ka'ala were what kept him calm when the god took his body for its own use. He didn't think he could ever get used to that. Then Mata'ka'ala would just barely touch him with his fingertips and Jacky's body would react, his stomach grew butterflies, and his skin would grow flush.
Jacky had never reacted to anybody like this before and he couldn't deny that he liked the new experience. He liked having somebody to always lean on. And Mata'ka'ala was something solid to lean on. He was big and powerful and clever. He was a prime example of an ancient warrior. He was the image on the stone walls and the reliefs on temples. Mata'ka'ala was Jacky's fantasy come to life, and he very much didn't regret meeting him.
It was currently nearly noon and Jacky was watching the dance of entertainers practicing. They moved their bodies in ways Jacky didn't think were possible. He held a fruity drink in his hand and felt the flush heat of so many bodies so close. Mata'ka'ala was leaning near him, murmuring in low tones with a few men. He had one hand casually resting on Jacky’s lower back, always reminding him that he was still there. Jacky looked back at him, letting his eyes roam over his body a moment before a cheer brought his eyes back to the group before them.
The people loved them here, their living gods. They had put up everything they had to make them as comfortable as they could. He really appreciated it all, and found everything oh so wonderful. He wouldn't mind living here forever. Maybe without the god, but this life seemed perfect in his eyes.
Then men with Mata'ka'ala left, then he moved close to Jacky. "We must away."
"What do you mean?"
He took Jacky's hand and began leading him back to their temple. He moved quickly and only acknowledged the people who called out to him with a nod.
"Danger is coming. We must away before it arrives."
Jacky stumbled over their fast pace, Mata'ka'ala's grip unrelenting. "What danger? I thought we were safe here?"
They arrived at their temple before Mata'ka'ala responded. "We will never be safe as long as Kuzi-Teshub lives. He is hunting us, and he is coming for us."
Fear flooded Jacky as he watched Mata'ka'ala pick through their new belongings, selecting what to pack and what to leave behind.
"We will leave before sundown," Mata'ka'ala continued. "The people will try to help hide our trail, but Kuzi-Teshub has a god inside him now."
Jacky dropped to the floor, his hands pressed to the cool stone. His heart pounded in his chest, painful and frightening.
"What god? How?" His hands searched for something to hold onto. He felt as if he was once more free falling through his life with no control at all.
"Jerri, Teshub's own bodyguard."
Jacky's eyes went wide. "A god's bodyguard? Your bodyguard?" His eyes tried to follow Mata'ka'ala's hands, but his mind was too full and he kept looking around the room for something to steady him. "Doesn't that mean he will always find you? Aren't you two connected then?"
Mata'ka'ala paused long enough to stare hard at Jacky. "Yes." He walked up to Jacky, knelt and placed his hands on Jacky's shoulders. "Our escape is still incomplete as long as we're in the empire. We must leave Kuzi-Teshub's shadow." He shoved a heavy bag into Jacky's lap, then quickly pressed a kissed to his lips.
Surprisingly, the god didn't take over. Jacky sank into the kiss, pillowing his lips against Mata'ka'ala's. Mata'ka'ala pressed closer, as if he were going to push into Jacky before he roughly pulled away. "We must hurry."
They took very little with them as they made their way out of the temple and to a stable near the city’s walls. A horse was ready and waiting for them. Two men in uniform greeted Mata’ka’ala and bowed respectfully to Jacky as they approached.
“Scouts have reported that Kuzi-Teshub’s army marches. You have until midday tomorrow to get a head start. After that, we will try to hold him off as long as we can, Great King.”
Mata’ka’ala tossed Jacky up into the saddle and Jacky caught a glimpse of how thin his lips were pressed, of how hard his eyes were. Did Mata’ka’ala hate Kuzi-Teshub? Jacky was sort of detached from it all, so it surprised him that Mata’ka’ala had such deep emotion. Before he could reach out, Mata’ka’ala had turned away.
“Don’t put anybody in danger. He killed his cousin, breaking our most sacred law. Nothing in Heaven or Earth will stop him now,” he warned the guardsmen. He mounted behind Jacky and turned the horse toward the road. “We leave here only to protect the Telepinu. Had he not been here, I would stay and fight this usurper.”
Jacky felt guilt and the weight of the world fall onto his shoulders at those words, but once again, Mata’ka’ala didn’t allow time for such thoughts. He urged the horse forward and they were racing down the road as if they had wings. Jacky buried his face in his cloak, and let the wind blow his hair wildly. His body was tiring and he had complete faith in Mata’ka’ala’s control of the horse. He slipped off to sleep, despite how he marveled at his own audacity.
Some time later, he woke when the horse was jerked to a stop. He sat up to find that they had paused on a rise and Mata’ka’ala had turned the horse to face the direction they had come. The valley lay before them, with the city nestled neatly in the middle. The sun had set and small points of light indicated household fires ablaze on their roofs.
Mata’ka’ala shifted the reins to one hand and lifted the other to point. “There is your temple, Telepinu,” he said, his voice a low rumble in the night. He glanced down to make sure Jacky was looking. “That is the home denied you by Kuzi-Teshub. Remember every day you spent there, and remember that he is the one driving you out.”
Jacky felt something heavy return to his chest. It wasn’t only the god’s sadness and loss, but his own as well. He already missed the feelings of welcome and belonging he had found in that city. Tears welled in his eyes, taking him by surprise and he quickly wiped them away. Mata’ka’ala was right. He could have lived there, content, if not happy. It may not have been his home with the great conveniences of telephones, showers, and kitchen gadgets, but he had found something there. A faith.
Kuzi-Teshub had ripped that away from him, and they were once again on the road.
Mata’ka’ala turned the horse away.
“Where will we go?”
He was silent a moment before he reached into a saddle bag and pulled out a map. He handed it over to Jacky and Jacky unfurled it over the saddle horn. In the bright light of the stars and moon, Jacky narrowed his eyes at the parchment. Mata’ka’ala leaned over his shoulder to point. “We are here. We will go here.”
His finger traced a path alongside the ridge of the mountains and toward the sea. A sea Jacky guessed to be the Black Sea. He licked his lips and tried to remember the proper maps of the region from his time and guessed they were headed toward Assyria. He didn’t know much about Assyria, only that they were at war with the other empires. Well, weren’t all empires at war with each other? His hands tightened on the map, and he sorely wished to be home again.
What really scared him, was that he didn’t know if he wanted his home in New England, or the temple back in Jarablos.
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Kitchen Gadgets
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: Just when they get used to a new home, Jacky and Mata’ka’ala find that nowhere is really safe for long.
Sometimes twice a day, the god sent Jacky to sleep and left him to wake wishing for a great change to come, for someone to rescue him, hating his life. Sometimes twice a day Jacky would wake in the middle of the day and sulk in their shared room until Mata'ka'ala came to him and forced him out to explore the city as it was being rebuilt.
This part, Jacky didn't mind.
He loved listening to the people talk, learning new dialects and patterns of speech. He fumbled with the language and the people were patient with him as he learned to become fluent. His training let his tongue adapt quickly to the new language, and he impressed all with his quick mastering of their speech.
He still resented the god inside him, but found he could t hate the mother goddess when she enfolded him in her loving embrace. She and Mata'ka'ala were what kept him calm when the god took his body for its own use. He didn't think he could ever get used to that. Then Mata'ka'ala would just barely touch him with his fingertips and Jacky's body would react, his stomach grew butterflies, and his skin would grow flush.
Jacky had never reacted to anybody like this before and he couldn't deny that he liked the new experience. He liked having somebody to always lean on. And Mata'ka'ala was something solid to lean on. He was big and powerful and clever. He was a prime example of an ancient warrior. He was the image on the stone walls and the reliefs on temples. Mata'ka'ala was Jacky's fantasy come to life, and he very much didn't regret meeting him.
It was currently nearly noon and Jacky was watching the dance of entertainers practicing. They moved their bodies in ways Jacky didn't think were possible. He held a fruity drink in his hand and felt the flush heat of so many bodies so close. Mata'ka'ala was leaning near him, murmuring in low tones with a few men. He had one hand casually resting on Jacky’s lower back, always reminding him that he was still there. Jacky looked back at him, letting his eyes roam over his body a moment before a cheer brought his eyes back to the group before them.
The people loved them here, their living gods. They had put up everything they had to make them as comfortable as they could. He really appreciated it all, and found everything oh so wonderful. He wouldn't mind living here forever. Maybe without the god, but this life seemed perfect in his eyes.
Then men with Mata'ka'ala left, then he moved close to Jacky. "We must away."
"What do you mean?"
He took Jacky's hand and began leading him back to their temple. He moved quickly and only acknowledged the people who called out to him with a nod.
"Danger is coming. We must away before it arrives."
Jacky stumbled over their fast pace, Mata'ka'ala's grip unrelenting. "What danger? I thought we were safe here?"
They arrived at their temple before Mata'ka'ala responded. "We will never be safe as long as Kuzi-Teshub lives. He is hunting us, and he is coming for us."
Fear flooded Jacky as he watched Mata'ka'ala pick through their new belongings, selecting what to pack and what to leave behind.
"We will leave before sundown," Mata'ka'ala continued. "The people will try to help hide our trail, but Kuzi-Teshub has a god inside him now."
Jacky dropped to the floor, his hands pressed to the cool stone. His heart pounded in his chest, painful and frightening.
"What god? How?" His hands searched for something to hold onto. He felt as if he was once more free falling through his life with no control at all.
"Jerri, Teshub's own bodyguard."
Jacky's eyes went wide. "A god's bodyguard? Your bodyguard?" His eyes tried to follow Mata'ka'ala's hands, but his mind was too full and he kept looking around the room for something to steady him. "Doesn't that mean he will always find you? Aren't you two connected then?"
Mata'ka'ala paused long enough to stare hard at Jacky. "Yes." He walked up to Jacky, knelt and placed his hands on Jacky's shoulders. "Our escape is still incomplete as long as we're in the empire. We must leave Kuzi-Teshub's shadow." He shoved a heavy bag into Jacky's lap, then quickly pressed a kissed to his lips.
Surprisingly, the god didn't take over. Jacky sank into the kiss, pillowing his lips against Mata'ka'ala's. Mata'ka'ala pressed closer, as if he were going to push into Jacky before he roughly pulled away. "We must hurry."
They took very little with them as they made their way out of the temple and to a stable near the city’s walls. A horse was ready and waiting for them. Two men in uniform greeted Mata’ka’ala and bowed respectfully to Jacky as they approached.
“Scouts have reported that Kuzi-Teshub’s army marches. You have until midday tomorrow to get a head start. After that, we will try to hold him off as long as we can, Great King.”
Mata’ka’ala tossed Jacky up into the saddle and Jacky caught a glimpse of how thin his lips were pressed, of how hard his eyes were. Did Mata’ka’ala hate Kuzi-Teshub? Jacky was sort of detached from it all, so it surprised him that Mata’ka’ala had such deep emotion. Before he could reach out, Mata’ka’ala had turned away.
“Don’t put anybody in danger. He killed his cousin, breaking our most sacred law. Nothing in Heaven or Earth will stop him now,” he warned the guardsmen. He mounted behind Jacky and turned the horse toward the road. “We leave here only to protect the Telepinu. Had he not been here, I would stay and fight this usurper.”
Jacky felt guilt and the weight of the world fall onto his shoulders at those words, but once again, Mata’ka’ala didn’t allow time for such thoughts. He urged the horse forward and they were racing down the road as if they had wings. Jacky buried his face in his cloak, and let the wind blow his hair wildly. His body was tiring and he had complete faith in Mata’ka’ala’s control of the horse. He slipped off to sleep, despite how he marveled at his own audacity.
Some time later, he woke when the horse was jerked to a stop. He sat up to find that they had paused on a rise and Mata’ka’ala had turned the horse to face the direction they had come. The valley lay before them, with the city nestled neatly in the middle. The sun had set and small points of light indicated household fires ablaze on their roofs.
Mata’ka’ala shifted the reins to one hand and lifted the other to point. “There is your temple, Telepinu,” he said, his voice a low rumble in the night. He glanced down to make sure Jacky was looking. “That is the home denied you by Kuzi-Teshub. Remember every day you spent there, and remember that he is the one driving you out.”
Jacky felt something heavy return to his chest. It wasn’t only the god’s sadness and loss, but his own as well. He already missed the feelings of welcome and belonging he had found in that city. Tears welled in his eyes, taking him by surprise and he quickly wiped them away. Mata’ka’ala was right. He could have lived there, content, if not happy. It may not have been his home with the great conveniences of telephones, showers, and kitchen gadgets, but he had found something there. A faith.
Kuzi-Teshub had ripped that away from him, and they were once again on the road.
Mata’ka’ala turned the horse away.
“Where will we go?”
He was silent a moment before he reached into a saddle bag and pulled out a map. He handed it over to Jacky and Jacky unfurled it over the saddle horn. In the bright light of the stars and moon, Jacky narrowed his eyes at the parchment. Mata’ka’ala leaned over his shoulder to point. “We are here. We will go here.”
His finger traced a path alongside the ridge of the mountains and toward the sea. A sea Jacky guessed to be the Black Sea. He licked his lips and tried to remember the proper maps of the region from his time and guessed they were headed toward Assyria. He didn’t know much about Assyria, only that they were at war with the other empires. Well, weren’t all empires at war with each other? His hands tightened on the map, and he sorely wished to be home again.
What really scared him, was that he didn’t know if he wanted his home in New England, or the temple back in Jarablos.
