Chapter Text
Even from miles away, the palace glitters in the evening sun. White limestone and jewels catch the light dancing off the Nile and cast it over the city, a shining testament to the ingenuity and power of the human mind. She could sit here for hours and just stare if only she had time to appreciate the view, but tonight she does not. Tonight, she must act with some haste.
The thought crosses her mind and there she is on the walls of the palace. Her feet make no sound as she pads along, but even if the guards heard her, they would make no effort to stop her. And if they did? Well, the ground is awfully far below them and she can not always afford to be kind. She leaps from the walls into the trees of the garden, scurries down them to the neatly kept grass. The stones in the winding stream provide her an easy pass to skip across as she winds her way to her goal.
It would be easy for her to be there in moments, but it is not her way to avoid the chance to smell the sweet scents of this place unless she has absolutely no other choice and it is her nature to have a few more choices than many others would.
Still, she does not stop. The gentle breeze washes over her as the night’s chill begins to settle over the palace. Before long, she arrives at last to her destination: a window. The window opens out over the courtyard, the only window this room has, and inside the room stand the two she has come to visit. They have not yet noticed her so she sits and she waits until the time is right.
They are both young men in the prime of their life. The taller of the two, the Prince Regent Katsuki, towers over his young slave Izuku. Katsuki’s hair is the color of Ra’s light, betraying his birthright. His eyes blaze red and fire curls waiting under the palms of his hands. Every line of his firm, muscular body is tense with rage. His usually pristine look is in disarray, his regal jewelry cast aside and his loincloth is beginning to slip through his belt. In this state, his beauty reminds her of herself. She would smile at the thought, if only she could.
Then there is Izuku. Even to her, the boy is stunning. His eyes are the color of emeralds, his unmarred skin is as smooth as polished brass, and the tears that threaten to spill down his cheeks shimmer like diamonds. A fitting look for the grandest jewel in the Pharaoh’s treasury. Izuku is a precious work of art and little more than that. For now.
“Kacchan,” he pleads, his voice wavering. “Your majesty…”
Katsuki takes a step forward. Izuku tries to take a step back, but the delicate golden chain shackled to his ankle is already pulled taut.
“Why are you running?” Katsuki snaps. “Why are you scared? If you want to stay with me so bad, then why are you trying to get away?”
Izuku is close to hyperventilating. This may well be the first time in his life that he has had cause to feel threatened. He stammers voicelessly before he can manage to force an answer past his trembling lips. “I just–I love you, Kacchan. Why won’t you let me stay with you?”
Katsuki scoffs. “Spoiled brat. Father always was too lenient with you. I have no need for a pampered bed slave, especially not one that only ever ended up in other slaves’ beds. You’re a useless, worthless Deku.”
Izuku’s chest heaves, but his eyes sharpen as he finds his resolve. “K–kacchan,” he stammers as fiercely as he can. “Every night, every night, I beg you to take me, to use me however I can please you. My–” He catches himself, dropping his gaze subserviently. “The slaves you so generously allow me to use are just practice so I can please you when you wish to have me.” The subservience quickly vanishes. His eyes come back up to lock with Katsuki’s. “Why would a Pharaoh be jealous of a slave?”
He yelps as an explosion detonates next to his ear. He stumbles and falls when the chain forbids him from flinching away far enough. As he throws out his hand to catch himself, he lands in a way that twists his wrist and he cries out again, cradling the injured limb to his chest. His wrist is only sprained, she can tell, but both young men stare dumbfounded as the joint begins to swell. This is the first time since they were small children playing together in the gardens that Izuku has ever been injured sorely enough to leave a mark.
Regret twists across Katsuki’s face for the briefest of moments, but he swallows it down before Izuku can register it.
There is grief in his voice as he speaks, utterly overwhelmed by the determination to continue on his chosen path. The sort of determination that can only be broken by, well, by someone like her. “I’ve made my decision, Deku. I’m gifting you to the Roman delegation as soon as they arrive.” He softens slightly. “Rome is nearly as wealthy as Egypt. Prince Touya will spoil you just as much as Father did.”
Before she came here, she had sat to watch the winds bury Prince Touya’s corpse among the dunes, so she severely doubts Katsuki’s promise will come true. For a number of reasons, but that is one of the larger ones.
Izuku curls in on himself miserably. He hugs his knees to his chest as his shoulders shake. “His majesty won’t be pleased. He told you to keep me safe.” It’s a feeble protest, the last one Izuku has left.
“Father gave you to me. He gave Egypt to me. I don’t care if he’s pleased or not. You’re going to Rome.”
For all his misery, a small part of Izuku is excited. Of course he is. The throne room is the furthest he has ever been in his life from the one wing of the palace set up to keep him. Wanderlust is a terrible thing to inflict on a boy in his position.
This is not exactly going well, she thinks to herself as she reaches out.
Izuku’s face shoots up. The tears have finally broken loose. His cheeks gleam and his eyes are red from crying. Katsuki’s breath hitches. His eyes widen.
Izuku sees it without her even having to point it out. He forces out another sob. “M-may I… your majesty, may I ask one last favor of you?”
“What is it?” Katsuki demands gruffly. His control is slipping.
Izuku angles his head so the last rays of light glance off his tears. Katsuki swallows. “Please, please take me. Just this once. I don’t care how hard, I don’t care how much it hurts, I don’t care if I get to cum. All I want–” A hiccuping sob cuts his words off and he looks away. “Sorry,” he mumbles. He scrubs his eyes with the heel of his hand. Katsuki reaches out as if to stop him, his hand caught in midair as Izuku continues. “All I want is to feel your cock in me just once.”
Silence stretches between them, heavy and dense, for so long that she considers stepping in to break it. Then Katsuki huffs. The sound is deafening in the still evening.
“On the bed. On your back. Where do you keep the oil?”
Izuku squeals in delight and hugs Katsuki for a brief moment. He pulls his clothes off so fast that he nearly tears through the gauzy fabric as he rushes to obey. His cock is already at half mast and his eyes are glassy. He opens a drawer next to his bed and pulls out a large bottle of oil. Despite its size, the bottle is almost empty.
Katsuki takes the bottle and dribbles some oil into his fingers. “Slut,” he remarks as what little oil remains sloshes around inside, unable to keep all the fondness out of his voice. “Hold your legs open for me.”
Izuku grabs his thighs and spreads them, but he winces at the pain from his sprained wrist. Katsuki purses his lips and moves Izuku’s hand away as he kneels on the bed between Izuku’s legs. “I’m not giving you away broken. Don’t make it worse,” he murmurs as he carefully positions Izuku’s leg himself.
As he presses the first finger in, Izuku’s eyes fall shut and he groans quietly. Katsuki’s finger sinks in to the first knuckle with hardly any resistance.
“Hah, I knew you would be loose, but I didn’t realize you were this much of a slut,” Katsuki whispers, awestruck, as he presses two more fingers in at once. “How often do you fuck yourself open thinking about me?” He tries so hard to sound mocking but not even his customary sneer manages to stay in place.
“Every day,” Izuku whimpers. He keens as Katsuki flexes his fingers inside of him. His cock is hard and leaking, but he keeps his hands where Katsuki placed them. “I always think about you. No matter who’s inside me, I can’t stop wishing it was you.”
Katsuki leans forward, bending Izuku in half until his knees almost touch his shoulders. He kisses Izuku firmly as he scissors him open. “Is it as good as you imagined?”
Izuku cries from sheer need, writhing and clenching around the fingers inside him, but he pulls a shaky smile to his face. “I don’t know yet. I still–” Katsuki’s fingers crook against the exact right spot and Izuku shrieks. Between trembling breaths, he gasps out “I still need your cock. To be sure.”
“Selfish brat.” Katsuki kisses the corner of his mouth and sits up to drip more oil onto his cock. A few strokes are all it takes to get him hard and he lines himself up against Izuku’s warm, inviting hole. He presses the head against Izuku’s entrance. Perhaps he intended to tease. It that was indeed his intention, then he is not very good at it. He pushes into Izuku, bottoming out in a single thrust.
Izuku’s eyes roll back into his head as he nearly cums just from that. When his eyes turn back towards Katsuki, the pupils are slits.
“Wha-?”
“Oh, don’t let me interrupt you,” she finally speaks. She can feel Izuku’s heart thrumming in terror beneath her breast. He’ll adjust. They always do. “I think you’ve kept him waiting for this long enough.”
Katsuki tries to pull out, but she grabs him by the hips and holds him in place. Izuku’s broken wrist throbs. So does the rest of his body. She purses her lips. Maybe a slave who experienced injury for the first time in twenty years of life mere minutes ago is not the most resilient vessel she could possibly have chosen. Ah, well.
“Who are you?” Katsuki demands. Already he has his palms out, ready to attack.
“Who do you expect me to be?” she counters.
Katsuki’s eyes narrow. “You’ve come for my throne, haven’t you, Usurper?”
That explains a great deal. Still, it makes her laugh. She does love the way this boy’s shoulders shake with mirth.
“Usurper?” she repeats. “Why would the Usurper work through a slave of all people?”
Katsuki opens his mouth, but snaps it shut again. “I bet you already know,” he says with a glower.
She tilts her head to the side before realization dawns on her face. Izuku’s eyes fall shut and his body goes limp. The light coalesces at his bedside, casting the rest of the room into pitch blackness as it resolves into the shape of a tall woman with bared breasts, a red linen dress, and the head of a black cat. She looks solid and real, except for the string of light tethering her to Izuku’s heart.
“There. He is asleep now. He will not hear us.”
With the hands on his hips now slack, Katsuki pulls out and bows his head in a gesture of respect. “Bast,” he greets.
“Katsuki,” she replies evenly. “Tell me why you believe the Usurper would claim a slave boy.”
“He has royal blood,” Katsuki says quickly. “He was birthed from my father’s favorite concubine. He is the only other one who could inherit the throne.”
“Inherit?” she asks. Her fingers card through Izuku’s hair. “He is your father’s son, not yours. You are the one sitting on the throne, are you not?”
“I’m not Pharaoh yet, not while my father yet lives. He could always change his mind.” Katsuki crosses his arms defensively. “Father always favored him more. Gave him everything he ever asked for, while I had to actually work to inherit what should have been mine by birth.”
“Do you believe you would have been worthy of it without work?”
Katsuki looks down and away. “Get to the point. What do you want?”
It is rare for her to be disrespected this bluntly to her face. She can appreciate it for the novelty, if nothing else. “What I always want. To protect Egypt.”
“Why not just talk through the priests or some shit?”
“Katsuki, have you ever listened to them?”
Katsuki blushes and wisely refrains from responding.
In his sleep, Izuku cries out. The light returns to normal and his pupils remain as slits. “This is a far easier way to get your attention. More entertaining, too, I will admit.” Izuku sits up. His whole body shakes, but the strain is less than if she were to manifest outside of him. “You fear the Usurper?” she asks with his voice. “You are wise to do so. Let me tell you this: Prince Touya, the heir to Emperor Enji Todoroki, was murdered a little over an hour ago on Egyptian soil, with an Egyptian knife by a man who travelled with him from Rome. You have many strengths, Katsuki, but subterfuge is not one of them. I would rather avoid a war if Rome is so desperate to start one.”
“And what does possessing my slave have to do with that?” Katsuki asks.
“No one will question his presence at your side. I can whisper in your ear without alerting the Romans that you know their game.”
Katsuki ponders that for a moment. “Very well,” he says like he has any choice in the matter at all. She allows it to pass without comment. He needs to feel some modicum of power.
“Good. It is difficult for him to bear my presence for too long. I will return when I see fit.”
Izuku’s pupils return to normal and he whimpers, reaching out to Katsuki for comfort. “What happened?”
Katsuki holds him close. She can tell that he is just as shaken as Izuku. Or at least he thinks he is. “It’s okay, Deku. It’s okay, I got you. Just rest. I’m not gonna get rid of you. You’re mine. You’re mine.”
Izuku jerks once and the light bends around him. “One last thing,” she says. “Now that I have opened this link, he is part of me and I of him. Do you understand what that means?”
Katsuki stares at her in a helpless rage. She smirks, amused that this young man really thought he could give Izuku away even without her interference. He is not the type to share easily. Too bad for him that she does not need to care about his wishes. “Enlighten me,” he growls.
“Fuck him every so often,” she clarifies. “So I don’t need to hear him whine about it.”
With that, she vanishes.