Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/44567. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: The_Mummy Relationship: Ardeth_Bay/Lock-Nah Additional Tags: Tattoos, Bondage, Yuletide Collections: Yuletide_2008 Stats: Published: 2008-12-25 Words: 3250 ****** Sacred Marks ****** by quenne Summary Ardeth gets his Medjai tattoos and Lock-Nah attends him. Notes See the end of the work for notes   Lock-Nah sat, waiting. He had tried to begin his meditation hours ago, when Ardeth left for his ceremony, but his doubts nagged at him, made the hours drag as he couldn't achieve his peaceful state. He wondered if the marking hurt, if Ardeth was sure. If he would regret it. As Ardeth's body servant, he had made sure everything was in place. He had checked the jars and bottles, the smooth clean sheets on the bed, the loose fitting cloth to wrap him in. His desire to check them once more was strong, but he controlled himself, remaining seated. Waiting. Listening. He heard Ardeth coming, alone. He was glad of it; he had not been sure Ardeth would be able to stand without assistance, and he did not want to bind him. He stood and went to open the door, eyes trained downward, as he had been taught. He had been honored when Ardeth requested this service of him. Ardeth was the Medjai's star pupil, had been since he had arrived six years ago. Lock-Nah had been here much longer than that, so long he did not remember his life before the Medjai began his training. "Lock-Nah," Ardeth said, and forced himself to bow. Lock-Nah could hear the discomfort in the hitch of breath, the slight flinch as the sheer black cloth shifted over his skin. "Ardeth," Lock-Nah answered, bowing deeply. As he straightened, he dragged his eyes along Ardeth's body, taking careful note of the markings that were scattered along his legs, belly, chest and arms. They were visible but unidentifiable under the filmy material he was covered in. He did not look at Ardeth's face. He knew he would have markings there, but he was not ready to read those symbols yet. //Ardeth was perhaps the most beautiful boy Lock-Nah had ever seen. He was twelve when he arrived, Lock-Nah eleven. His hair fell in dark ringlets down his back, his dark eyes carrying the promise of mirth within a face serious enough to please the Elders. Lock-Nah was among the fifty boys who watched him ride in to the Medjai camp. His horse, a strangely pale mount, had belonged to his father, killed over two years before. The boys lined the trail into the camp, waiting for a glimpse of the boy to be introduced to the life of the Medjai at such an advanced age. He smiled at those around him as if he were a prince, looking kindly on his subjects. Lock-Nah learned in the following weeks that the jealousy that pitted itself in his heart was nothing more than a desire to stand in Ardeth's company, to be the one the Elders would look on with pride. He worked harder so he could be matched with Ardeth in wrestling, swordplay, lecture. Soon they spent most of each day together, and Ardeth's easy laugh loosened something in him that had unknowingly grown hard in his time with the Medjai.// "Ardeth, may I cleanse your sacred marks and ease your discomfort?" The words came with the ease of long practice, and Lock-Nah was glad he had not shirked it these months past. Seeing Ardeth with his new tattoos, red and swollen, was more difficult than he had expected. "I would be honored, Lock-Nah." Ardeth made his way carefully to the center of the small room, standing with legs wide underneath the leather straps hanging from the ceiling. He did not reach for them, but his positioning indicated he knew they were there. Lock-Nah removed the filmy cloth from Ardeth's skin gently, sure to touch only the material, and to let it come free of the bloody flesh at its own pace. Ardeth did no more than hiss, his muscles rippling like water as his skin was bared to the cool night. The flimsy cloth finally came free and Lock-Nah folded it carefully before placing it under the table with the unguents and potions. He took the first bowl and linen, turning to see that Ardeth had grabbed the leather handholds. His naked body was spread out with his skin and muscle pulled taut, the red edges of the tattoos turning white under the pressure. Lock-Nah wanted to soothe him, whisper something soft and comforting, but that was not his place. Those words were not part of the ritual, and he bent his mind to the task at hand. //The Medjai were a group of men devoted to each other and to a cause, and Lock-Nah understood that much from his childhood. It meant they were intimate with each other because there was no one else, but that did not occur to him, at least not at the time of his first experience. The Elder was not unkind to him, and Lock-Nah learned something of the desires of his body, though the hollow feeling in his chest did not go away even as he reached completion. The hands on him were kind and patient, teaching Lock-Nah ancient ways of the body, of accepting and giving pleasure. It was not until Lock-Nah saw Ardeth again, his scimitar flashing in the sunlight as he practiced forms, that he understood the desire that made the Elder's kindnesses seem empty.// "Ardeth, I will cleanse your unmarked flesh, if you will allow." Lock-Nah met Ardeth's eyes. This entire ritual was difficult, but this phase, this would test Lock-Nah's willpower. "You honor me, Lock-Nah," Ardeth answered, and held Lock-Nah's gaze. The cleansing started with Ardeth's feet, dusty from being unshod, but otherwise untouched. Lock-Nah knelt before Ardeth and lifted his left foot onto his thigh, the contrast between the colors of their skin enough to mesmerize Lock-Nah for just a moment. He took the cloth and wet it in the bowl, carefully wiping the sand and dust from the foot with a firm touch. His attention was complete; he did not notice Ardeth's reaction until he switched to the other foot. A quick glance upward to judge Ardeth's pain provided an eyeful of his erection, and a flush on his cheeks that could not be entirely attributed to his fresh markings. Lock-Nah looked back down at Ardeth's foot, suppressing a smile as he completed his work with efficiency. He stood, letting his gaze travel over Ardeth's body, finally letting himself look over the tattoos proclaiming loyalty and duty and a complete surrender of Ardeth's body and soul to the Medjai. He went back to his table, changed out the dirty water for fresh, and took a new linen. Lock-Nah had the ceremonial washing memorized from the day after Ardeth had asked him to perform it. The washing of the genitals was described in forthright tones, something necessary for purity's sake but not to be enjoyed or taken advantage of. He wondered if Ardeth was feeling shame or desire; whether he should indulge Ardeth; whether a momentary physical pleasure would bring a lasting shadow. He turned back to Ardeth with fresh water and cloth. Ardeth was still as a stone, his arms bulging from the effort to keep himself upright. His eyes were unreadable, and Lock-Nah took a deep breath and cleaned Ardeth's genitals swiftly and efficiently. The erection did not subside, but Ardeth's face showed relief. Lock-Nah was pleased to have made the correct choice. He returned to the table for one final change of water and linen. The only other unmarked portions of Ardeth's body were his neck and the palms of his hands. Lock-Nah set the bowl down, dampening the cloth, and reached up for Ardeth's right hand. As soon as Ardeth released the leather, his body listed sideways, and he pressed his palm against Lock-Nah's chest to balance himself. Lock-Nah felt as if he had been struck to the ground by one of Ardeth's wrestling holds, his breath coming too fast, his heart beating its horse-fast rhythm in his ears. He slipped the cloth between them, and pulled Ardeth's hand down the cloth and his chest beneath it. Lock-Nah closed his eyes and began his even meditative breathing to keep his own urges under control. When he opened his eyes, Ardeth was smiling at him, and he raised his arm to take the strap again before releasing his other hand and smoothing it down the material on Lock-Nah's chest, his eyes signaling a challenge. Lock-Nah accepted, guiding Ardeth's hand back to its rightful place before folding the cloth and smoothing it up Ardeth's nape. Ardeth let his head hang back, and Lock-Nah immediately brought the cloth around to drag it down one side of his neck and up the other. Ardeth swallowed, his larynx bobbing obscenely. Lock-Nah brought the cool cloth to Ardeth's throat, tracing the line from under his jaw where his beard left smooth skin to the point where his clavicles met. Ardeth brought his head forward again, and Lock-Nah had not realized how much he had been leaning in, for their mouths were mere inches apart. Lock-Nah lowered his eyes, a small bow in deference to completing the first part of the cleansing ritual, and a necessary distraction to clear his mind of impure thoughts. It was time for a respite already, for his own conscience, if not Ardeth's. He poured clear water into a new bowl, dipping a cloth in it and bringing it to Ardeth's lips so he could suck the water out of it. Ardeth took it gratefully, and Lock-Nah was thankful himself that Ardeth closed his eyes, though he reconsidered as Ardeth's face tipped into bliss at the feel of the cool water. Ardeth released the cloth and Lock-Nah could not keep himself from wiping it gently over Ardeth's lips and chin. He looked down as Ardeth opened his eyes, and returned to the table to prepare the cleansing potion for the tattoos. Mixing the potion with the water allowed him to gather his composure, and when he turned to face Ardeth again, he was able to keep his voice steady as he offered the rehearsed lines. //Lock-Nah continued to lie with the Elder when asked - always asked, never demanded - and he spent much time educating the younger men, both in accepting and giving pleasure. He did not want others' first experience to be at the hands of a man thrice their age. He also continued to watch Ardeth, the princeling of the Medjai, imagining his muscles flexing under Lock-Nah's hands, imagining his face contorted in pleasure. Ardeth occasionally caught him watching, but Lock-Nah never looked away. Ardeth found him one day with a boy in his tent, and he did not beg pardon, or turn and leave. "Why do you bother the young ones?" he asked, and Lock-Nah sat up, kissing the boy on the head and dismissing him from the tent. "I do not bother," Lock-Nah explained calmly. "I educate. Only if they are willing, and only after they have completed their coming-of-age ceremony. They are all men, if young." "Why do you not educate those of an age to you?" Ardeth asked, and Lock-Nah could feel his heart beat wildly at the implied question. "I do not believe they need education," Lock-Nah answered. Ardeth sat next to him on his pallet, his skin smelling of sand and heat. "And if I desire a tutor?" Ardeth asked, shifting up to kneel next to Lock- Nah's hips. "I would be honored, oh favored pupil of the Medjai."// "Ardeth, I will cleanse your sacred marks, if you will allow." The water must have refreshed Ardeth, because he was standing tall, using the handholds only as the slightest guides to his upright posture. He lowered his head, answering, "You honor me, Lock-Nah." Lock-Nah bowed in return, taking the antiseptic potion and beginning with Ardeth's thighs and calves. His erection, which had flagged only slightly at the interruption, came back strong as soon as Lock-Nah was on his knees. Lock- Nah only allowed himself a smile as he lowered his head to concentrate on cleansing Ardeth's calves gently, tracing the swollen flesh with a light hand. Piety, justice, diligence; each symbol outlined in Ardeth's life-blood. Lock-Nah moved upward to Ardeth's thighs, and he was pleased to see Ardeth's head tipped back, the line of his throat accentuated by the long dark hair that framed it. Lock-Nah could smell Ardeth's musk, his scent overpowering the stench of ink and blood that had taken over the room when Ardeth entered earlier. Ardeth's breath came fast now, and Lock-Nah had achieved a coup; he was, for however long he could hold on, in control. He moved behind Ardeth, outlining the symbols on the backs of his thighs - fidelity, trust, service. A low moan escaped Ardeth as he moved his cloth lovingly over the symbol for devotion tattooed on his lower back, just above his buttocks. Lock-Nah continued his meticulous care of the markings on Ardeth's back, the skin flaming up brightly under the cleansing potion. Ardeth leaned dangerously to his left now, his chin resting on his chest, and Lock-Nah was no longer able to tell if his low breathy moans were pain or pleasure. Lock-Nah tugged on Ardeth's right arm, resting a hand firmly on Ardeth's waist to steady him, carefully placing it between the markings on his ribs and hipbone. Ardeth's head fell forward even further, though whether it was an acknowledgement or surrender was impossible to tell. Lock-Nah worked quickly over Ardeth's arms, truth and attentiveness and conviction, his hands familiar with Ardeth's weight as he switched his grip from left hand to right. He finished with the marks on the back of Ardeth's right hand, an age old symbol of the Medjai, protectors of the pharaohs. Lock- Nah had a desire to kiss them, but that would tarnish their very meaning. Lock-Nah replaced Ardeth's hand on the leather strap, waiting as Ardeth adjusted to take his weight back from Lock-Nah's firm hand on his waist. As Lock-Nah came around Ardeth to stand in front of him for the final sacred symbols on his pelvis and chest, he wondered if it was possible for Ardeth to achieve completion without despoiling the ritual. His penis was beading with moisture now, and when he opened his eyes to see why Lock-Nah had stopped, they were dark and serious. Lock-Nah nodded, hoping the simple movement would reassure Ardeth, that the inadequate gesture would communicate something of his intentions. He dipped his cloth in the cleansing potion and started with the marks on his pectorals - integrity and commitment - touching each with a light hand, but with intent, with a desire to bring Ardeth to completion by the care of his hands. The smell of Ardeth's desire filled Lock-Nah's senses, and he fought to control his own body's lustful responses to the ritual. He traced the scrollwork down Ardeth's ribs to the symbols for hope and belief, carved into the delicate skin just inside Ardeth's hipbones. Try as he could, it was impossible not to brush Ardeth's erection as he cleansed these striking tattoos, causing Ardeth to shiver uncontrollably. Lock-Nah swallowed thickly as he finished the cleansing, and stood to begin the final portion of the ritual, the soothing unguent provided by one of the elder Medjai, the one that would calm his overstimulated skin and allow him to sleep and heal. //The day before the marking, Ardeth offered his body fully to Lock-Nah, a gift only given to those considered brothers, a bond of blood and sweat, faith and integrity. Lock-Nah spent the afternoon learning Ardeth's body with his tongue, tasting his sweat, leaving trails to evaporate on Ardeth's body in the heat of the day. He opened Ardeth with the same tongue, listening to Ardeth's low moans of pleasure and his petitions for more. When Ardeth achieved completion, he called out to Allah. When Lock-Nah achieved completion, he called out to Ardeth. Lock-Nah was not certain of his faith in the Medjai's teachings, but he had faith in Ardeth, and he hoped that would be enough.// "Ardeth, I will soothe your sacred marks, if you will allow." Ardeth's eyes were on Lock-Nah, and for a moment, Lock-Nah worried that Ardeth would not be able to answer, that he was lost to his desire. Ardeth took a deep breath, blinked slowly, and responded. "You honor me, Lock-Nah." Lock-Nah took the jar of thick balm and for the final time that night, went on his knees before Ardeth. Ardeth's head tipped back, his moaning clearly audible. Lock-Nah began with his calves and thighs as before, and Ardeth leaned in to each touch, his entire body straining against his arms as they held him in place. Lock-Nah knelt up, and Ardeth's erection came just below his mouth. If he would not despoil the entire ritual, it would be simple to bring Ardeth to the completion he desperately craved. He exhaled, open-mouthed, on Ardeth's penis, and Ardeth started to shake. He was biting his lip to avoid saying anything, and Lock-Nah continued to breathe, reaching for the salve. He rubbed it in to the symbol for belief, his hand edging ever so gently against Ardeth. Ardeth moaned loudly, and continued to shake, and Lock-Nah worked quickly, switching his fingers to his other hipbone, the one marked as hope. His right hand grabbed and held Ardeth's hip as his left worked the ointment in, the back of his hand rhythmically brushing against Ardeth. Ardeth's seed spilled over Lock-Nah's hand, a strange but fitting symbol of hope. Ardeth's legs were trembling now as weariness took hold. Lock-Nah swiftly worked the salve into the rest of Ardeth's markings, taking his weight when he could as Ardeth was only barely able to hold himself upright. It took only a few moments, and then Lock-Nah wrapped Ardeth in a fresh sheer cloth and led him to the soft bed in the corner of the small room. Lock-Nah settled Ardeth on the bed, his body pitching forward dangerously. Lock-Nah tilted Ardeth's chin up to examine the tattoos on his cheeks and forehead, those marks of pride and myth, the marks that proclaimed this was Medjai first and Ardeth second. Lock-Nah cleansed and soothed the tattoos on Ardeth's forehead silently, the movements an echo of the ritual he performed on Ardeth's body moments ago. He cupped Ardeth's jaw in his hand, staring at the cheeks he had kissed yesterday that were now inscribed with Ardeth's solemn mission. Lock-Nah gazed at Ardeth's lips, willing for them to provide reassurance, wishing for them to kiss away his doubt. Ardeth did not speak, and his eyes closed slowly as the ointment soothed the tattoos, removing the redness from the edges. Ardeth sagged to the side, and Lock-Nah laid him down on the bed gently. He breathed deeply and did not move. Lock-Nah took up his meditative position on the mat next to the bed, ready to spend the night watching over his brother and contemplating if he would ever be ready to receive the sacred marks. //When Lock-Nah left Ardeth and the Medjai behind, blindly setting out for freedom on the back of a stolen horse (a dark one, like him, like the night), he never thought knowledge would replace faith. Nor did he think that his mistrust of the Elders' teachings would lead to him selling his soul to those who would bring a plague on the Earth. He had long ago lost what little idealism he had, but it flared into life at the sight of Ardeth; his rival, his brother, the song of his body still known to Lock-Nah's hands and sword.// End Notes Thanks to Livia for not one but two amazing betas that made this so much better! Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!