The Belly Dancer

I decided to rework this fic after revisiting it recently. It just didn't seem to satisfy what I had hoped to acccomplished, so it has been revamped! Whether it will continue however, is unknown. So for now, please enjoy!


+++ The Belly Dancer +++


Concealed from playful moonbeams as they shone down through the narrow windows of the Brothel, a pair of golden eyes scanned the elegant palace grounds from beneath the hood of his black, cloaked robes. The long awaited Spring festival in the rich district of Damascus had finally begun and the turnout had been most prosperous. It was the opportune moment for Altair to mingle amongst the populace that gathered from every corner of the city, littering the streets with glorious mayhem. As an Assassin of his talents, it was not the least bit difficult slipping into the festival unnoticed. A moments respite into the constantly changing world that he could not actively be a part of was often necessary. It allowed him to reconnect with what's left of a crumbling society riddled with war and be free of the shadows that he now clung to as second nature. He could once again be accepted amongst the people and remind himself of why he fought to give back the freedom being stolen from them each passing day.


The night had been quite busy for the most part. Many of the festivals inhabitants were already drunk from the generous offerings of assorted wines. It appered everyone was having a good time and before he knew it, Altair too had fallen victim to the whims of this all too entertaining passtime.


The Assassin finished off his goblet of wine, downing his fourth cup just as quickly as the first and enjoying its tart flavor that sweetly lingered on his tongue. Several Harlot’s were already frolicking amongst the assortment of men gathered in the Brothel tonight and many had attempted to coerce him into making his choice of company for the evening, but he declined each and every invitation. True enough he was here for the same sexually indulgent reasons as every other man under the roof of this building. But not only was he looking for an escape from his precarious life as a Hashashin, he was also looking for just the right woman to share this temporary freedom with.


And it was the limber form of a youthful little Belly Dancer that actually ensnared most of his attention this particular night.


As he sat quietly in a corner of the main room among the kaleidoscope of colorful cushions littering the floor, his hidden eyes had been following her graceful movements amongst the gathering of people. He had only glimpsed Belly Dancers in the past as he strolled through lavish parties and palaces in search of his targets. They would often seem drawn to him when graced with their presence. While on assignment, he had no time for them, but their scantily clad bodies and wicked charm swirling and prancing around him only served as beautiful distraction from his course. But tonight, however, he was free of his demanding duties to the Creed and as he donned his long, black robes with edges weaved in gold to blend in with the festivities fancy attire, Altair would allow his long suppressed desires to break the surface.


And this little dancer who had pranced her way into his deadly sights was his choice.


She was fascinating to watch. So young and lively as she danced around the room to the music with her sheer yellow scarf. Delicate and playful, she was. The Belly Dancer’s caramel skin was brushed with a fine gold dust from her naked shoulders to her thighs glittering hypnotically in the moonlight and flickering torch flames. She was well manicured, adorned with thin, golden charms on her upper arms and ankles and was exceptionally clean. He liked clean. Her long black hair was parted in the middle to form a thick braid sewn with golden beads, her eyelids the color of the blackest coal.


Altair's golden eyes were transfixed to the hypnotic sway of her naked hips beneath the golden beads of her loincloth, shimmying from left to right in perfect harmony like a snake to the slithery beat of the music. She pranced delicately from one bare foot to the other, around the fountain in his direction and it was then he knew that he too, had been spotted.


She noticed him blending almost naturally into the shadows; his black robes and withdrawn countenance shrouding a little too comfortably in the darkness around him. Something about this man was... different. She could practically feel those hidden eyes of his raking along her bare skin unseen. Her instincts warned her to keep her distance, yet his lonely disposition urged her to dance closer.


Altair watched as the limber creature that captured his interest so completely began to twirl around him, her yellow scarf trailing lightly over his shoulders and lap all too teasingly. And he was captivated. Her ample hips snapped this way and that, never missing a beat. Before Altair knew it, his hand extended out from the baggy folds of his sleeve to sneak a caress of her golden skin as she danced by, but she was quick and casually dodged his touch like it burned. Her suggestive dance eventually slowed as the music died down and she slid delicately to the floor in front of him. She lay back to rest her head in his lap and finally, their eyes met.


She became drawn into his encompassing gaze as he looked down at her, losing herself in those dark golden depths glimmering by the soft torch light in the Hall's foreground. It was as if the busy raucous of the rest of the room had simply disappeared and only she and he remained.


She blinked when the heat of his fingertips skimmed up the sides of her breasts, awakening her from her trance like state as though an overwhelming enchantment was broken. Pulling herself up quickly, she looked back at the mysterious man in black one last time then spun away to continue dancing amongst the crowd.


"She is the youngest virgin of my palace..." said an older feminine voice next to Altair. He glanced at the woman it originated from, wondering when she’d managed to slip so close without his notice.


The woman was short in stature with long black hair to her waist. She wore a finely woven red dress and held her head up high as her sharp eyes took in the merriment of the room.


“Forgive my intrusion, young man. I am the Headmistress here." she apologized with a slight bow upon notice of his attentive gaze. "I notice many things while roaming these halls and I could not help but see you are quite taken with that one... Aren’t you?”


Altair remained quiet and stood up. She spoke again, looking him up and down out of the corner of her eye. "You see… Not one soul has possessed enough coin to ever purchase her worth so if you are here merely to watch, then do not waste my time.”


Altair cleared his throat, his hidden eyes returning to the young girl off in the distance. "Well it is a shame to allow such a creature to go to waste, now isn’t it?...”


The Headmistress looked at him curiously as he reached into the front of his dark robes and pulled a large brown pouch from his waist.


"I am sure you will find this is more than enough..." he began. He then grabbed her hand and emptied the pouch's contents into her palm and she cracked a dark smile as the heavy gold coins went spilling between her fingers.


"She is to await my arrival in her chambers. I will be there shortly."


"As you wish." the Headmistress responded over the music.


Hastily she picked up the stray coin littering the floor and Altair silently watched her bow her exit to retrieve his company for the night.

+++

A quiet sigh emanated throughout the plain white bed chamber illuminated only by a few dimly lit candles. The Belly Dancer sat anxiously atop her vibrant bedding of linen over the floor in the middle of the room, her fingers running through her long black hair as it now draped over her shoulder. It was the only real color allowed to give the room any life and was used to ensure all attention remained focused directly on this particular spot. Covered only by small red veil to conceal her painted lips and a thin red sheet around her torso, the young girl stared blankly at the doorway in front of her, her mind miles away....


She couldn't seem to get that elusive man from downstairs out of her thoughts. No matter where she danced, he seemed to anchor her to him as his eyes followed her seen but unseen through the crowd.


But sadly the little time she did have with him was long gone and it was time to focus on what awaited her in the next few moments that was going to change her life forever…. Her virtue had finally been sold, possibly to a wealthy politician seeking a scandelous rendevous under his wife's nose. The young Dancer had always hoped it would be with the man of her dreams one day, but fate was funny that way and knowing she was tied to this place, she had long ago realized that not everyone is so lucky....


Before she knew the transaction had been sealed, she was swept away and rushed up the stairs by the Headmistress and several of her servants only to be bathed and scrubbed very vigorously. At first she thought they would close up early and retire for the night, but the moment she was rubbed down with various scented oils and made to sit practically naked over her bedding, the Belly Dancer knew immediately what was in store for her.


She sighed, drawing her eyes away from the door she dreaded to look upon and reached for a small tangerine in the dish next to her bedding. Born into a Brothel with a no way out, she was not ignorant of what was expected of her. The very idea of lying with a man she'd never even met before sent a very unnerving chill up her spine, knowing that when he arrived her body would no longer be her own. She could only pray that this would not be an experience that she would fear for the rest of her life.

Out of boredom and apprehension, she peeled the citrusy fruit in a perfect spiral and watched the hull slip from it with just a little tug. It had been at least an hour and still this man had not arrived. She popped a bright juicy slice of fruit into her mouth, but gasped and dropped her tangerine completely when the vividly colored rug hanging over her darkened doorway was suddenly swept open. The Headmistress hurriedly stepped in, holding the rug open for whoever awaited on the other side. Immediately the Belly Dancer felt riddled with panic, the palpitations of blood rushing in her ears as her eyes stalked the doorway.


But to her surprise, that same fear was flushed away like the river’s tide as that same elusive man in the black robes from downstairs walked quietly into her rooms. His gait was wide with a confident stride, the hem of his robes dragging over the cold, shining white tile. She clung to her little red sheet wrapped beneath her arms to calm her wavering sense of security.


“Behave yourself and relax….” the Headmistress whispered in her ear after closing the distance and planted a soft, reassuring kiss to her forehead.


The girl watched silently as the Headmistress rose. She bowed respectfully to the man at the door and exited the room, securing the rug and the young girl's fate into place, leaving her alone.


With him.


He was much taller than she expected. He stood stock still and said nothing for a long moment, watching her watching him from under his black hood and then he came forward to stand at the edge of her colorful sea of plush bedding. The cool slice of tangerine she'd popped into her mouth slid hurriedly down her throat with a loud gulp, as if eating it were forbidden. A bit of its sweet juice glimmered on her chin when she looked up at him which he casually reached to wipe away with his thumb. She instinctively scooted back nervously and watched him suck it clean from that slender digit of his. She hugged her small form fitting sheet tightly around her soft, naked frame as he continued to loom over her like a dark shadow from the grave. His hidden eyes chased her every movement but he himself, did not follow. At last he sat cross legged over her bedding piled heavily along the tile floor.


Altair reached over and plucked her lost fruit that rolled out of reach and offered it to her while his golden eyes absorbed the way the short red cloth exposed her long thighs and lithe legs. She was very beautiful. Her almond shaped eyes the color of the brightest jade peered up at him curiously, cautiously. Her nose and red painted lips were partially shielded by a short, thin red veil tucked behind her ears. The young girl eyed his extended palm then very slowly reached out to take her wandering treat from his hand. But he pulled it back before she could grab it in an effort to draw her closer. Deciding to leave the tangerine to its captivity in his hand, the young Dancer sat back and narrowed her eyes in attempt to see him better in the dim candlelight.


“Come into the light..." she finally asked softly.


Altair smirked to himself and placed the naked little tangerine back into the bowl off to the side. She watched her temporary new owner slowly raise his left hand, noticing the ring finger missing from it, and lower his black hood behind his head. He then looked back into her curious eyes and she swore there lay a dormant warmth to their golden hue, just waiting for the right opportunity to resurface.


She had to admit he was rather good looking with this exquisitely rugged appearance now that she could feast her eyes on him clearly. His dark brown hair was trimmed very short as it clung neatly to his scalp. He sported the dark, stubbly beginnings of a moustache that peppered around the strong curve of his jaw which she guessed was probably as clean shaven as he was going to get. She also noticed a sharp scar down the right side of his bow shaped lips and couldn't help wondering at the mysterious location of it.


Once she had her fill of studying this elusive man to put herself at ease, she clamped her small red sheet closed at her chest to hide her naked, vulnerable frame and forced herself to scoot closer. Immediately Altair pulled her to him by her arm when she was within reach, mentally noting how stiff she became, uncomfortable in his closeness and the warm comfort he offered and also sought. She smelled sweet with the faintest aroma of the tangerine lingering on her skin and he longed to discover just where the multitude of scents ended and her own unique one began.


Remembering the Headmistresses words, the young girl exhaled quietly to calm her nerves when she felt the warmth of his hand come to rest on her knee. She averted her eyes as the handsome man next to her examined her more closely but building up the nerve, she slid her soft fingertips over the back of his larger hand and entwined her fingers with his. To her surprise he responded with a slight squeeze. He leaned over slowly and nuzzled his face to hers. The Dancer returned his gesture and reached up with her free hand, smoothing her palm down his pronounced jaw line, appreciating the sharp, attractiveness of his profile. On contact, Altair's eyes drifted closed, her warm touch automatically quenching his loneliness and fueling his long repressed craving for the contact of another. His stoic expression softened and he caught her wrist, his other arm sliding around her waist and without warning she was abruptly pulled up until he had her right where he wanted her…. Perfectly spread to straddle over his lap.


To be continued….