Little Dove

DISCLAIMER (the boring stuff):
Lock-Nah and Ardeth Bey are copyrighted characters of Universal Studios, Stephen Sommers, and/or any of the persons or companies not mentioned but in affiliation with The Mummy and The Mummy Returns, all rights remain with them. Neither I, nor this story, are connected to those holding the copyright to these characters, nor do I received any finical or material gain from the publication of this narrative.
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A/N: I am SO SORRY it has taken me so long to update. I really and truly am. Thank you for you patients and I promise to do my best to not let such a long pause happen again. Thank you everyone for still reading my story, and for the e-mails asking about updates.

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4: Broken Scarab

The Med-jai scouting party was out numbered 4 to 1 when the ambush occurred. Two out of the five Med-jai survived, overhearing the bandits’ talk of stealing the Eye of Ra, a ruby rumored to be the size of a human’s head containing incredible mystical powers. The survivors slipped away, managing to steal a single horse in the process. They were days away from the next outpost and reasoned that the best thing to do would be to intercept Ardeth’s troupe, returning from the Siwa Oasis. The sun had just barely set, the sky still a blaze with dying shades of reds and oranges, if they rode hard through the night, they should be able to intercept them by early morning.

Lok-Nah watched the Med-jai slip away out of the corner of his eye as he continued to plot the theft of the Eye of Ra with his men. He was well aware that their best course for survival would be to ride towards Ardeth. He smiled darkly as he snatched a rifle from one of his men and took careful aim before gently and calmly squeezing the trigger. The shot seemed to echo in the empty desert as the bullet struck home. One of the Med-jai fell, dead before he hit the sand.

“It only takes one to bait a trap.” Lok-Nah stated, tossing the gun back to its owner.

*--*--*--**--*--*

It was after dinner and the men were sitting around the campfire exchanging amusing stories. Naseem and Yazmin had retired to their tent shortly after the dishes from dinner were cleaned away. Jemima had volunteered to finish cleaning the small make shift kitchen, allowing Yazmin and her husband some time together. Once she was satisfied that both the dishes and area were cleaned, Jemima walked out of the tent, glancing over at the fire and laughing men surrounding it. Her eyes caught sight of Ardeth, his dark eyes sparkling with laughter as a slight breeze fanned the flames and toyed with his long dark curls.

Feeling he was being watched, Ardeth turned and caught sight of his wife standing in the pale light of the moon. The same breeze that pushed his hair away from his face caused her clothes to flutter slightly. He could clearly make out the indentations of her small waist and the swell of her hip. She was gorgeous, not even the dimness of the night could conceal such a radiant beauty. He could make out the red blush that was creeping across her cheeks before she rushed away to the seclusion of their tent. Ardeth bid his men a good night and followed his blushing bride. Before reaching his tent he was stopped twice, once to be given a belated congratulation and the second to ask about the guard rotation for that night. He quickly rattled off names and when they were to guard the encampment.

He slipped beyond the canvas door and immediately heard a small startled gasp. Instinctively Jemima grabbed the nearest thing in an attempt to cover her nakedness.

“You startled me.” She admitted, blushing because she still was not use to being naked in front of someone else.

The sight her naked, except for the fabric she was clutching to her breast stirred things within him. “It was not my intention.” He said, closing the distance between them. Uncharacteristically and without warning he suddenly pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers.

A surprised gasp soon gave way to quiet, pleasurable mewling sounds Ardeth greedily devoured. His powerful hands ran the length of her pale soft body as her arms wrapped about his neck. She deepened the kiss, pressing her body closer to his fingers dug into her hips. She placed a trail of kisses along his neck up to his ear. When he spoke into her ear his voice was low and gruff as he told her how he could barely contain his passion fir her, briefly describing how he wanted to take her again a wall.

“There’s more than one position?” she innocently asked.

“Yes, my Little Dove, there are several.”

Her eyes brightened, sparkling like the sun off the Nile River. “Teach me!” she exclaimed, then immediately realized how unladylike her request was. The brightest blush he had ever seen brightened her cheeks. Passionately he kissed her, promising to teach her everything he knew once they reached his village.

That strange want began to burn again; this time she knew what it was and how to sate it. Her brave fingers quickly relieved him of his sash as he removed his weapons. He was on fire with the need to feel her skin. He broke their kiss long enough to pull off his tunic, he was about to kiss her when he saw the simple necklace she wore. A scarab carved from lapis lazuli which had broke in half long ago, hung from a leather thong just below the soft indentation of her throat.

“You gave it to me.” She volunteered.

“I remember. I found it while I was out with my father; I gave it to you for your eleventh birthday. I’m surprised you still have it.”

“I wear it almost all the time.” She admitted, her fingertips tenderly running down his chest as she spoke. She ran her fingers along the Med-jai tattoos that had not changed in over three thousand years. As if uncertain of her moves, she placed a delicate kiss on the tattoos over his heart. He sighed softly, running his hand through her soft hair as her necklace slipped from his hand.

A dainty pink tongue traced the raised edges where the tattoo artist had gone too deep, causing the skin to rise slightly as it healed. Her tiny hands were running down his chest and circling his waist before coming to rest at the small of his back. He sighed deeply, quietly whispering her name as he pulled her closer, guiding her towards their make shift bed. Gently he laid her down and removed his pants before joining her.

She smiled as she gently cupped his face and pulled him towards her for a long kiss. He was careful to keep a majority of his weight on his left arm and off his bride, despite her attempts to pull him closer. His free hand began its journey just above her knee, and slowly made its way towards her hip. The sensation of her soft, firm flesh beneath his hand was as intoxicating as her kisses. His hand lingered at her hip before wondering to her waist. She had wrapped her arms about his neck and deepened the kiss, her tongue meeting and massaging his as his lips captured her soft mewling sounds.

With a smooth and sudden move he rolled onto his back, pulling Jemima’s body on top of his, her weight a gentle burden. Now it was he who cupped her face for a long, hungry kiss. Uncertain what was expected of her she raised herself up onto her forearms and knees, her lips still enraptured with his.

“Jemima, my beautiful bride.” He said when their lips parted, her long dark hair falling about him like a black silk curtain.

“Woman can be on top?” she coyly asked, her eyes wide and curious.

“Yes, my Little Dove, women can be on top.” He stroked her face, enjoying the shy and uncertain look on her face. A mischievous, playful glint danced in her glorious eyes. She had felt that part of him that made him a man. She could recall the firmness of it in her hand and how skin felt velvety soft to her fingers. Now she was consumed with an insatiable curiosity about what he would feel like in her mouth.

“What are you thinking?” he questioned, suspecting he was going to enjoy the thought she was having. She bit her lip and shied away, and incredible blush spread across her cheeks, she suddenly no longer had the ability to communicate.

“Talk to me, my Little Dove.” He softly said when she turned away, gently cupping her face and making her look at him. Not certain if she could look her husband in the face as she shared her forbidden thought she whispered in his ear her desire to taste him. Ardeth was pleasantly surprised by his bride’s boldness as well as how closely this mirrored one of his secret dreams.

“Oh, Jemima, that is something I think I will enjoy.” He said, allowing her to crawl down his body, pausing occasionally to plant a delicate kiss on his torso. Her long black hair gently caressing him as she worked her way lower, he gasped softly when her hair slid over his nipples.

She was so close to him; he could feel her breath against his swollen member, her black hair a splash over him and the blankets. As if working up the courage to satisfy her curiosity she placed delicate kisses on his erection, and wrapped her hand around its thickness. Ardeth closed his eyes and sighed softly, Jemima’s curiosity and desire to please her husband were making her bolder as she ran her tongue along his length. He groaned, his hips lifting slightly. Jemima went lower, running her tongue around his balls, savoring the sensation his body and the sounds he was making. His gasps and moans encouraging her to be increasingly bolder in her attentions. After tracing almost every inch of him with her tongue she finally took him into her mouth, he almost cried out from the sensation. She slowly work her way up and down his shaft, savoring the sensation for the soft hard flesh in her mouth. She placed her tongue between him and her lower teeth, while her upper lip curled over her top teeth, protecting that tender part of him from her teeth. Her lips tingled with the gentle friction of her exploration. Ardeth, had his hands in her hair and was gasping, asking her not to stop as he groaned and writhed under her attentions.

“Jemima.” He groaned, his climax was near and he did not wish to finish in her mouth, unsure how she would react. “Stop. Please stop.” He moaned, gently pulling her away.

“I want more, please.” She pleaded as he pulled her lips to his.

“As do I.” he responded, locking his lips to hers. With her mouth locked on his, his guided himself between her folds and slid deep within her warmth. She threw her head back a cry of pleasure caught in her throat. He grabbed her hips and began guiding her on rising and falling onto him. She placed her hands on his chest for better balance and slowly began moving at her own pace, freeing Ardeth’s hands to explore her breasts. He returned his hands to her waist, resting them there as she continued to impale herself on him, gasps, moans and soft cries escaping her lips with each fall. Her small breasts rising and falling with her movement and her pace quickened.

Her eyes closed, and her breathing was fast and throaty as she lost herself in the mounting sensation, his name becoming her mantra as her body tightened about him. He groaned, gripping her waist tightly, feeling his climax near but wanting to hold it off until she had hers. She whispered his name over and over again, increasing her pace, trying desperately to reach that indefinable explosion she knew was close, then suddenly it hit her and her entire body stiffened, her head thrown back as a single, guttural groan escaped her throat.

Ardeth suddenly grabbed her rolled her beneath him and instantly locked her in a passionate kiss as his left hand slid between this, his thumb find that little nub of pleasure she had no idea existed on her body. Her eyes widened and her sudden cry was muffled by his lips. He worked that pleasure spot with his thumb as he continued to slide in and out of her at a near frantic pace. His right hand lifted her right leg, resting her knee in the crook of his arm as he slammed into her harder than he wanted, but his desire rode him as hard as he was riding her. Her screams were muffled by his mouth and her body writhed beneath him, in time with his movements. His left hand escaped them and captured her left leg as his right had had done so. Her legs were now spread wide as he slammed into her wetness over and over again. She grabbed him about the neck, keeping him close, muffling her increasing screams of passion, not wanting to disturb the rest of the camp. Her legs, though trapped by his arms, tried to wrap about him and she whimpered when she could take him in deeper. She was so responsive, so flexible it drove that lustful beast within him to the edge, and then when her body tightened in a second orgasm she pulled that lustful beast over edge. He released her legs and collapsed on top of her, panting and exhausted.

“Did I hurt you?” he raised himself up and asked, fearing that he had.

“Can we do it again?” she asked, smiling brightly.

He chuckled, relieved that he had not hurt her, and collapsed beside her. “Of course, Habiba, we can do it as many times as you would like”

“Promise?” she asked, sleep beginning to creep into her voice.

“I promise. Just give me a few moments to rest.” He answered, feeling a sense of déjà vu.

“I think I need some rest too. My legs are shaky.” She said snuggling close. He chuckled and kissed her forehead an instant before she curled up beside him, resting her head on his chest and falling asleep to the sound of his strong, and loyal heart.

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The moon was setting, and the sky was beginning to brighten with the promise of a new day when the rider slowly rode towards the camp. He was slumped in the saddle, nearly lying on the horse’s neck, but his Med-jai blue robe still unmistakable. The Med-jai guard signaled his partner and they ran towards the wounded and dying rider. Together they got him into camp and awoke Naseem with news that his healing talents were needed.

Ardeth awoke to the sound of movement outside his tent; slowly he reached for his scimitar, uncertain if the movement was hostile but not wanting to take the chance. The movement stopped at the canvas flap that served as a door.

“Ardeth.” A voice softly called.

Ardeth recognized the voice as Mikeaal, one of the men he assigned to guard duty. Slowly as not to awaken Jemima he rose from their bed and neared the door of the tent.

“Yes.” He whispered.

“A Med-jai rider has arrived, he is wounded and near death, but asking for you.”

“I understand. I’ll be there soon.” Ardeth said and then set about getting dressed, occasionally stealing glances at his beloved wife. She was still asleep and had kicked the blanket down to reveal the length of her naked back. The blanket resting just below the small of her back, where her back began to swell to her backside, it was a most tempting sight. Ardeth had hoped to get Jemima back to their village before encountering such dangers. But life does not always go as planned. He gathered his weapons and slipped from the tent, attaching his weaponry as he made his way towards the wounded Med-jai, he wasn’t hard to locate, it’s a small encampment and all he had to do was go towards the largest group of people.

“Naseem, how bad is he?” Ardeth asked seeing his brother-in-law approach.

“His name is Sarif and he’s hurt bad. Despite his wounds I feel he will strong enough to travel in a couple of days.”

“That’s letting the storm get close.”

“I know, but to attempt to travel with him sooner, may kill him. Right now he has a chance of recovery.”

“Has he said anything?”

“Thieves are planning on stealing the Eye of Ra.” Naseem reported.

“Is he awake?”

“Yes, and he is asking for you. There is still a bullet in him, but he would not let me remove it until he spoke with you.” He answered, beginning to walk back towards the tent the wounded warrior was recovering in. Ardeth nodded and followed Naseem. The Med-jai was indeed wounded, Naseem had cleaned the wounds and bandaged them; however, a bullet still remained lodged in his bicep. The man was severely dehydrated, sun burnt and suffering from blood loss.

“My….Chief…” he began an attempt to bow or at least tip his head in respect. Ardeth stopped him, raising his hand and requesting the wounded warrior remain still.

“Sarif, can you tell me what happened?” Ardeth asked, kneeling next to Sarif’s makeshift bed.

He nodded and then relayed the tale of the ambush by mercenaries dressed in red robes. He tells how they were out numbered, and quickly taken down; however, he and his brother had survived. His voice becomes distant when he states that his brother was shot in the back and killed.

“Sarif, I swear, we will find your brother’s body and give him the respect he deserves. I need to know if you heard these bandits say anything regarding the Eye of Ra.”

“Yes, my chief, they did. I heard them mention a woman who was going to be the carrier of the eye.” He reported. “But they have not gone to its resting place.”

Ardeth nodded, the Eye of Ra, is a powerful artifact. It is written that the Eye of Ra is a death mask carved from a single piece of ruby. The Eye will supposedly turn the carrier into a being as fierce as the creature and grant them control of the armies of the underworld. It is also written that the Eye cannot be handled by man, as it was a goddess who created it.

“You’ve done well, Sarif, get some rest.” Ardeth said before rising and leaving them tent, He called over Usaid, his best friend since childhood and second in command.

“We need to get a party together and quickly, men are going after the Eye of Ra and we need to stop them. We also need to have men stay behind to guard the camp and pack it up. Naseem will remain behind to tend to Sarif’s wounds. Go now, hurry.” Ardeth ordered, then made his way back to his tent.

Jemima was still asleep, a faint pleasant grin upon her lips. Gently he stroked her cheek, tenderly pulling her from her slumber.

“Habiba.”

“What is wrong?” she asked, her voice carried a thick sleepy quality to it.

“I will need to leave for a couple days. Men are planning to steal a powerful artifact. The caravan will remain here, I’ll ask Yazmin to keep you company when the storm hits.”

“Be careful.” She asked, placing her palm to his cheek. He grabbed her wrist and placed a kiss in the palm of her hand.

“I must leave now.” He said, kissing her lips before vanishing through the canvas door.


From a distant dune, two men watched a large portion of the Med-jai riders leave the camp. Lok-Nah grinned as he lowered the binoculars; things were going according to plan.

“When do we attack?” the thin man asked, also watching the riders through his own binoculars.

“Tonight, when they will be least expecting it and Ardeth Bey will be too far away to stop me.”