Post by Fassbender Fan on Jan 23, 2006 18:40:43 GMT
Okay this was originally the first chapter of my first draft of a longer fan fiction but due to my own idleness and lack of time I never developed it any further. Anyway, here's, as I said, the first part which can be read as a short fan fiction following Azazeal's life before Hex and his love of Herat. Enjoy! 
Leave us” her voice boomed across the stone walls, her jade green eyes sparkling with delight and menace, fixed upon her guest.
An uneasy wind howled at the full moon outside as the guest approached her throne, kneeling before her he tenderly kissed her outstretched hand.
“My queen…” his handsome accent breaking the silence as he stood. He was a tall man, his eyes a confusion of blue and green stared into hers as loose tendrils of his dark hair danced in the wind against his cheekbones. She could no longer bear the formality of the moment; sliding her hand up his bare forearm, her soft hands caressing his bronzed skin, rough in comparison, her jewelled fingers caressing every curve of his biceps.
Tiptoeing she whispered in his ear, “I want you to stay with me tonight.”
“As you wish” his tone unchanging, an air of servitude in his voice he placed his hands on her waist pulling her towards his chest effortlessly. Their lips met in a passionate embrace, she breathed him in, his scent filling her lungs as he kissed the nape of her neck and her shoulders. Her skin tingled; she felt free for the first time in years, her body willing, her heart racing, as they became one she felt an overwhelming sense of love and happiness. But it was to be short lived.
A cool breeze swept through her chambers, Muslim curtains dancing in response, the distant sound of carriage weels carried on the wind. Sunlight drowned the room as the weary queen opened her eyes; she reached for Azazeal by her side but was greeted instead with an empty sheet. Alarmed she sat, remembering her sins of the previous night.
She scanned the room for signs of her love, fear causing her heart to race. Fear of losing him. Fear of him being caught. Fear of her own infidelity being unmasked.
“Herath, my love, where are you?” the king’s voice echoed through the palace as her doors opened to reveal his person, arms wide in greeting and a genuine grin spread across his wide face.
She smiled in response, faining innocence, the Pharaoh approached the marital bed where she lay nude but for a single silk sheet and sat beside her.
“Abed at this hour my love? Are you well? I have missed you greatly” he kissed her forehead as he said this, his rough skin painful to her skin, his smell less inviting than her lover’s.
“I…” she stammered, afraid she would confess without wanting to “I was not feeling too well so I retired early last night and slept through until you arrived. My love.”
Her king was silent for a moment as he eyed his wife, “very well, you must rest. I will have the servants bring you all that you require today. I have important matters to attend to.
She was alone once more with her guilt.
Months passed and Herat had been able to conceal her adultery from her husband during this time, but a constant reminder grew in her womb as she struggled with her guilt and the disappearance of her lover.
“I must leave for business tomorrow my love” her king announced over supper one eve “I will return within a week”
Herat acknowledged this her mind racing with plans for his departure. She must find Azazeal. The father of her child.
The king had been gone two days now and still no sign of Azazeal. Herat paced the room wearily, struggling to conceal the obvious signs of her pregnancy, petrified of her fate when she was discovered.
The moon cast a pearl-like glow across the room as Herat wept in her chambers. Burying her head into her hands reckless thoughts and plans of escape raced through her mind, as her king’s return grew closer.
“My queen..” his voice like a ghost’s on the night air, afraid to turn, Herat froze.
“My queen.” He repeated, “I apologize for-“ before he could finish she flung her arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest.
“We must run Azazeal. I am pregnant and Aton returns within a day, he will kill me for sure if he finds out. If you love me you will run with me. We must hurry” determination fuelled her speech as she gazed into her lover’s eyes willingly, giving herself to him body and soul.
“Quiet, you are weary and in no position to make rash decisions” he silenced her, guiding her back to the bed.
“We cannot run, Aton will send his guards after us and we will be killed within hours of our elopement. No. We must wait, until the child is bore.
“But the child-“
“-Is Aton’s. You must convince him of this, it will be a son and he will embrace him as his own, an heir to his throne.
“How can you be sure?” tears streaming down her cheeks
Wiping her tears with his thumb, Azazeal smiled and kissed her tenderly, “I will return to you and we will be together once more. As a family"
“Who is he?” Aton’s voice bellowed as he clutched at his wife’s wrists, a large knife in his left hand, “How dare you betray me like this? You will pay the penance..”
“I will never tell you, you can kill me but I will always love him” this pained the king to hear and he threw Herat to the ground, dropping the knife and retreating a broken man. The victim of his wife’s adultery and humiliated by hearing it from his own servants.
“My king” a young man in a loin cloth approached Aton, another servant within the palace
“Not now”
“But-“
“I said not now!”
“My apologies sire but it is about your wife…her lover…”
The king’s eyes widened at the word, an anger rising inside of him “What do you know?”
“His name is Azazeal. The priest who visited you before your wedding night. It is his child she carries”
“Alert the guards, I want him found and killed!”
“But, sire, there’s one more thing, he is not like the other priest’s”
“I don’t care what he is like I want him dead. To think, a guest in my own house and he re pays me with this”
“My king!”
“What?” the king was growing impatient with the child by this point
“He is a demon. Sire he has been seen at night, he is not human. She is carrying the devil’s child my king!”
The king laughed, “No matter what he is, by dawn he will be dead”
Within hours of their departure the king’s guard returned, over half dead and the remaining wounded. Azazeal’s corpse not in their possession as the king had asked.
Seeing this the king grew angry, sending a large urn crashing across the room in rage, he stormed toward Herat's chambers. Dragging her from her bed by her hair, she wailed as he threw her at the guard’s feet.
“If you cannot find one man in Egypt that I order you to I will provide the corpse for you. She is carrying the devil’s child. Dispose of her” a single tear fell down the king’s anguished face, his eyes avoiding hers and his face red with rage. He marched from the room, his long robes billowing around him as he turned his back on Herat, her screams following him as he left.
Herat kicked and screamed with all her might as she was dragged from the palace grounds, the rough sand grazing her heels as she called her lover’s name. Tears poured down her face as she was bound and gagged as the remaining guards began to dig. The night was clear as her eyes darted from side to side in search of her love, he will come he has to, the golden sand danced in the moonlight as the last guard stood, sweat pouring from his brow he gazed into the hole…
Her heart pounded as they pulled her toward the grave. She struggled and kicked, screaming with all her might until a blow to the head silenced her, everything became dark as she dropped limply into the hole.
“Such a waste.” muttered one of the guards, shovelling sand into the grave, they worked until dawn, the sun rising on her grave, the king gazed from a high window as the guards departed and a faint wind blew sand from the mound that buried his wife.
Simultaneously Azazeal stood, from a distance, having overlooked the burial. As he stared dejectedly at Herat’s unfeeling grave, his face awash with despair and an unfamiliar loneliness, anger rose inside his soul. Anger at having lost his love but also his child. The son he longed for…
***
Azazeal Fan Fiction
Leave us” her voice boomed across the stone walls, her jade green eyes sparkling with delight and menace, fixed upon her guest.
An uneasy wind howled at the full moon outside as the guest approached her throne, kneeling before her he tenderly kissed her outstretched hand.
“My queen…” his handsome accent breaking the silence as he stood. He was a tall man, his eyes a confusion of blue and green stared into hers as loose tendrils of his dark hair danced in the wind against his cheekbones. She could no longer bear the formality of the moment; sliding her hand up his bare forearm, her soft hands caressing his bronzed skin, rough in comparison, her jewelled fingers caressing every curve of his biceps.
Tiptoeing she whispered in his ear, “I want you to stay with me tonight.”
“As you wish” his tone unchanging, an air of servitude in his voice he placed his hands on her waist pulling her towards his chest effortlessly. Their lips met in a passionate embrace, she breathed him in, his scent filling her lungs as he kissed the nape of her neck and her shoulders. Her skin tingled; she felt free for the first time in years, her body willing, her heart racing, as they became one she felt an overwhelming sense of love and happiness. But it was to be short lived.
*
A cool breeze swept through her chambers, Muslim curtains dancing in response, the distant sound of carriage weels carried on the wind. Sunlight drowned the room as the weary queen opened her eyes; she reached for Azazeal by her side but was greeted instead with an empty sheet. Alarmed she sat, remembering her sins of the previous night.
She scanned the room for signs of her love, fear causing her heart to race. Fear of losing him. Fear of him being caught. Fear of her own infidelity being unmasked.
“Herath, my love, where are you?” the king’s voice echoed through the palace as her doors opened to reveal his person, arms wide in greeting and a genuine grin spread across his wide face.
She smiled in response, faining innocence, the Pharaoh approached the marital bed where she lay nude but for a single silk sheet and sat beside her.
“Abed at this hour my love? Are you well? I have missed you greatly” he kissed her forehead as he said this, his rough skin painful to her skin, his smell less inviting than her lover’s.
“I…” she stammered, afraid she would confess without wanting to “I was not feeling too well so I retired early last night and slept through until you arrived. My love.”
Her king was silent for a moment as he eyed his wife, “very well, you must rest. I will have the servants bring you all that you require today. I have important matters to attend to.
She was alone once more with her guilt.
Months passed and Herat had been able to conceal her adultery from her husband during this time, but a constant reminder grew in her womb as she struggled with her guilt and the disappearance of her lover.
“I must leave for business tomorrow my love” her king announced over supper one eve “I will return within a week”
Herat acknowledged this her mind racing with plans for his departure. She must find Azazeal. The father of her child.
The king had been gone two days now and still no sign of Azazeal. Herat paced the room wearily, struggling to conceal the obvious signs of her pregnancy, petrified of her fate when she was discovered.
The moon cast a pearl-like glow across the room as Herat wept in her chambers. Burying her head into her hands reckless thoughts and plans of escape raced through her mind, as her king’s return grew closer.
“My queen..” his voice like a ghost’s on the night air, afraid to turn, Herat froze.
“My queen.” He repeated, “I apologize for-“ before he could finish she flung her arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest.
“We must run Azazeal. I am pregnant and Aton returns within a day, he will kill me for sure if he finds out. If you love me you will run with me. We must hurry” determination fuelled her speech as she gazed into her lover’s eyes willingly, giving herself to him body and soul.
“Quiet, you are weary and in no position to make rash decisions” he silenced her, guiding her back to the bed.
“We cannot run, Aton will send his guards after us and we will be killed within hours of our elopement. No. We must wait, until the child is bore.
“But the child-“
“-Is Aton’s. You must convince him of this, it will be a son and he will embrace him as his own, an heir to his throne.
“How can you be sure?” tears streaming down her cheeks
Wiping her tears with his thumb, Azazeal smiled and kissed her tenderly, “I will return to you and we will be together once more. As a family"
*
“Who is he?” Aton’s voice bellowed as he clutched at his wife’s wrists, a large knife in his left hand, “How dare you betray me like this? You will pay the penance..”
“I will never tell you, you can kill me but I will always love him” this pained the king to hear and he threw Herat to the ground, dropping the knife and retreating a broken man. The victim of his wife’s adultery and humiliated by hearing it from his own servants.
“My king” a young man in a loin cloth approached Aton, another servant within the palace
“Not now”
“But-“
“I said not now!”
“My apologies sire but it is about your wife…her lover…”
The king’s eyes widened at the word, an anger rising inside of him “What do you know?”
“His name is Azazeal. The priest who visited you before your wedding night. It is his child she carries”
“Alert the guards, I want him found and killed!”
“But, sire, there’s one more thing, he is not like the other priest’s”
“I don’t care what he is like I want him dead. To think, a guest in my own house and he re pays me with this”
“My king!”
“What?” the king was growing impatient with the child by this point
“He is a demon. Sire he has been seen at night, he is not human. She is carrying the devil’s child my king!”
The king laughed, “No matter what he is, by dawn he will be dead”
Within hours of their departure the king’s guard returned, over half dead and the remaining wounded. Azazeal’s corpse not in their possession as the king had asked.
Seeing this the king grew angry, sending a large urn crashing across the room in rage, he stormed toward Herat's chambers. Dragging her from her bed by her hair, she wailed as he threw her at the guard’s feet.
“If you cannot find one man in Egypt that I order you to I will provide the corpse for you. She is carrying the devil’s child. Dispose of her” a single tear fell down the king’s anguished face, his eyes avoiding hers and his face red with rage. He marched from the room, his long robes billowing around him as he turned his back on Herat, her screams following him as he left.
Herat kicked and screamed with all her might as she was dragged from the palace grounds, the rough sand grazing her heels as she called her lover’s name. Tears poured down her face as she was bound and gagged as the remaining guards began to dig. The night was clear as her eyes darted from side to side in search of her love, he will come he has to, the golden sand danced in the moonlight as the last guard stood, sweat pouring from his brow he gazed into the hole…
Her heart pounded as they pulled her toward the grave. She struggled and kicked, screaming with all her might until a blow to the head silenced her, everything became dark as she dropped limply into the hole.
“Such a waste.” muttered one of the guards, shovelling sand into the grave, they worked until dawn, the sun rising on her grave, the king gazed from a high window as the guards departed and a faint wind blew sand from the mound that buried his wife.
Simultaneously Azazeal stood, from a distance, having overlooked the burial. As he stared dejectedly at Herat’s unfeeling grave, his face awash with despair and an unfamiliar loneliness, anger rose inside his soul. Anger at having lost his love but also his child. The son he longed for…
*
