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Lukos lay in the dark for a long time, listening hard, but no sound apart from the rain reached him. He shifted, wincing and turned onto his side, facing the doorway. Her eyes occupied his thoughts. They were so expressive. One moment they were filled with loathing and the next she was looking at him as though he was an equal. Of course, he’d ensured the hatred had returned. That was her last glare to him; angry fury.
He sighed and turned over the other way, staring at the black interior of the temple. Probably she was somewhere among the chests, waiting for him to go to sleep so that she could sneak up and kill him. That thought made him sit up. Pushing back the blankets, he crouched by the mattress, easing it up and taking out a knife from underneath.
“Phaidra,” his voice seemed only to increase the silence. Standing up, he kept the knife ready, tense as he felt his way around the room. Every few steps he would pause, listening hard for any sign of life or movement but he could hear nothing above his own breathing in the impenetrable silence. At last, after checking every inch, including the springs at the back of the temple, he was convinced she was no longer there.
He stood, patting the flat of the blade against his thigh, thinking. This was an island. There was nowhere she could hide forever. Glancing out at the rain, he relaxed a little. The storm at least would prevent her from trying anything so foolish as rowing out to sea. No one would be able to help her if she was lost on the water.
For the moment, he decided to let her have her way. There was no sense looking for her outside in the dark and the rain. Likely she would take shelter with the slaves. With that settled in his mind, he at last returned to bed, placing the dagger back under the mattress and at last let sleep claim him.
The night was long, his dreams fragmented and harrowing. In one, he woke suddenly to find her beside him, his dagger in her hands, poised against his heart. One false move and she would plunge the blade deep into his chest, ending him. He sat up, sweating, hands scrambling under the mattress, finding the weapon where he’d left it.
In another dream, he pursued her through the temple, stalking her every step. She kept looking back at him, that glinting smirk goading him on. Her hair streamed out behind her, and when he reached out, he could feel its softness against his fingertips, though he could never catch her. He followed her through the shadows, into the back of the temple where it opened into a natural cave system of hot springs. Weaving her way around them, she led him on another chase, up a dirt trail and out onto the cliffs at the back of the island.
Anxiety plucked at him as he watched her wander close to the edge. At last she stopped walking and waited for him to catch up to her. On her wrists were the bronze shackles from the ship. She smiled at him, opening her arms impossibly wide, the chain stretching the length of her arms. For a moment he moved toward her, thinking that she meant to embrace him but she stepped back instead, her smile fixed. He cried out, reaching for her as she allowed herself to fall backwards, plummeting off the cliff face into the icy water below.
He startled awake to full sun streaming through the doorway. Again he checked for the dagger under the mattress but it remained in its place. A quick scan of the room revealed it to still be empty. Part of him half expected the other side of the bed to be warm from where she’d snuck into it but the sheets were cold to the touch and he realized how idiotic that thought had been. Phaidra wanted nothing to do with him. Of course she didn’t. There were rats on the ship; that had been the only reason she’d refused the floor last time.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and thought uneasily of his last dream. Would she have gone to the cliffs? Had that dream been a sign? A warning, maybe? Rubbing his mouth, he stared at the now cleared table. Sometime in the early morning, one of the slaves usually came to clear away food but there wasn’t any replacement food there now. That meant he was awake earlier than usual.
Stopping only long enough to pull on his boots and find a dry shirt, he moved swiftly through the temple. All the way through the cave system, side steaming stepping pools, both shallow and deep, he knew she couldn’t have come this way. He’d followed her wherever she went last night. There was no way she knew about this path and yet his apprehension would not allow him to deny the possibility that she had indeed thrown herself into the ocean.
He’d certainly pushed her last night and he thought on it for the first time with the smallest beginnings of something close to guilt. His boots thudded along the dirt path. Like the cave the slaves were kept in below the temple, this one also had natural windows in its ceiling that allowed sunlight to filter into the gloom, illuminating his way. The path sloped up and he stepped out onto the sea cliffs.
Wind assaulted him immediately and he walked as close to the edge as he dared, scanning the rocks far below for any signs of a body. He walked nearly the whole of the island as far as the cliffs would allow until he was satisfied that she had never come this way. Turning back, he reached the temple stairs in time to see Arktos puffing up the trail, sweat beading on his bald head.
“Where’s the girl?” Lukos asked. If she had not ventured to the back of the island, that only left the front. Arktos glanced up at him, his brows drawn together in puzzlement.
“Eh?” he stopped and put his hands on his hips, breathing hard. “What girl? Oh, your mouthy one?” He gave one meaty half shrug, much to Lukos’s annoyance.
“Has anyone seen her?”
“Haven’t looked for her,” Arktos eyed him suspiciously. “Was she not in her cage?”
“Find her.” Lukos took the stairs two at a time, his mood darkening rapidly. Arktos sighed and turned longsufferingly back down the hill, falling far behind his captain.
“The ship is being loaded,” the bigger man puffed at Lukos’s back. “As we speak.”
“Search the village,” Lukos ignored him. “I want her found.” Why should he care if she killed herself? She had been nothing but a pain in his side ever since he’d met her. Still, the thought that she had bothered him more and more the longer the day wore on. All his boats were accounted for and this satisfied him that she had not been stupid enough to try and escape. But she was not in the village or the with the other slaves.
No one reported seeing her aboard the Acetone. She was not aboard the derelict warship or the others waiting to be deconstructed. He had his men swarm the forest and still there was no sign of her. Yet, all work could not cease just for one slave woman that no one would be sorry to see the back of.
He was forced to see to his other duties and wait while others searched.
Earlier in the morning, before Lukos had even started up the cliffs, Bianor slowly made his way up the gangway, book in hand. He yawned, his wrinkled hand briefly covering his mouth as he walked across the deck and down into the hold. A scratching sound made him pause on the stairs, looking around. When it stopped, he frowned but continued his descent until he heard a soft mewling coming from Lukos’s cabin.
“A cat?” he muttered to himself. How could a cat have gotten stuck in there? His movements were slow and his joints ached as they always did after storms. At last he eased open the door to find a little gray face peering up at him. “Hello,” he murmured, looking from the cat to the bed.
His eyes widened in alarm and he shut the door quickly. What was she doing there? Alone? Where was Lukos? Just then, he heard heavy stumping across the mid deck. A thought occurred to Bianor just then, prompting him to open the cabin door again and slip inside.
“Good morning,” he said slowly, keeping his frame against the door. “I have something I wish to speak with you about…” This was the first slave he’d ever seen either escape Lukos, or some how twist him in order to get her way. She could be of use...
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Lukos lay in the dark for a long time, listening hard, but no sound apart from the rain reached him. He shifted, wincing and turned onto his side, facing the doorway. Her eyes occupied his thoughts. They were so expressive. One moment they were filled with loathing and the next she was looking at him as though he was an equal. Of course, he’d ensured the hatred had returned. That was her last glare to him; angry fury.
He sighed and turned over the other way, staring at the black interior of the temple. Probably she was somewhere among the chests, waiting for him to go to sleep so that she could sneak up and kill him. That thought made him sit up. Pushing back the blankets, he crouched by the mattress, easing it up and taking out a knife from underneath.
“Phaidra,” his voice seemed only to increase the silence. Standing up, he kept the knife ready, tense as he felt his way around the room. Every few steps he would pause, listening hard for any sign of life or movement but he could hear nothing above his own breathing in the impenetrable silence. At last, after checking every inch, including the springs at the back of the temple, he was convinced she was no longer there.
He stood, patting the flat of the blade against his thigh, thinking. This was an island. There was nowhere she could hide forever. Glancing out at the rain, he relaxed a little. The storm at least would prevent her from trying anything so foolish as rowing out to sea. No one would be able to help her if she was lost on the water.
For the moment, he decided to let her have her way. There was no sense looking for her outside in the dark and the rain. Likely she would take shelter with the slaves. With that settled in his mind, he at last returned to bed, placing the dagger back under the mattress and at last let sleep claim him.
The night was long, his dreams fragmented and harrowing. In one, he woke suddenly to find her beside him, his dagger in her hands, poised against his heart. One false move and she would plunge the blade deep into his chest, ending him. He sat up, sweating, hands scrambling under the mattress, finding the weapon where he’d left it.
In another dream, he pursued her through the temple, stalking her every step. She kept looking back at him, that glinting smirk goading him on. Her hair streamed out behind her, and when he reached out, he could feel its softness against his fingertips, though he could never catch her. He followed her through the shadows, into the back of the temple where it opened into a natural cave system of hot springs. Weaving her way around them, she led him on another chase, up a dirt trail and out onto the cliffs at the back of the island.
Anxiety plucked at him as he watched her wander close to the edge. At last she stopped walking and waited for him to catch up to her. On her wrists were the bronze shackles from the ship. She smiled at him, opening her arms impossibly wide, the chain stretching the length of her arms. For a moment he moved toward her, thinking that she meant to embrace him but she stepped back instead, her smile fixed. He cried out, reaching for her as she allowed herself to fall backwards, plummeting off the cliff face into the icy water below.
He startled awake to full sun streaming through the doorway. Again he checked for the dagger under the mattress but it remained in its place. A quick scan of the room revealed it to still be empty. Part of him half expected the other side of the bed to be warm from where she’d snuck into it but the sheets were cold to the touch and he realized how idiotic that thought had been. Phaidra wanted nothing to do with him. Of course she didn’t. There were rats on the ship; that had been the only reason she’d refused the floor last time.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and thought uneasily of his last dream. Would she have gone to the cliffs? Had that dream been a sign? A warning, maybe? Rubbing his mouth, he stared at the now cleared table. Sometime in the early morning, one of the slaves usually came to clear away food but there wasn’t any replacement food there now. That meant he was awake earlier than usual.
Stopping only long enough to pull on his boots and find a dry shirt, he moved swiftly through the temple. All the way through the cave system, side steaming stepping pools, both shallow and deep, he knew she couldn’t have come this way. He’d followed her wherever she went last night. There was no way she knew about this path and yet his apprehension would not allow him to deny the possibility that she had indeed thrown herself into the ocean.
He’d certainly pushed her last night and he thought on it for the first time with the smallest beginnings of something close to guilt. His boots thudded along the dirt path. Like the cave the slaves were kept in below the temple, this one also had natural windows in its ceiling that allowed sunlight to filter into the gloom, illuminating his way. The path sloped up and he stepped out onto the sea cliffs.
Wind assaulted him immediately and he walked as close to the edge as he dared, scanning the rocks far below for any signs of a body. He walked nearly the whole of the island as far as the cliffs would allow until he was satisfied that she had never come this way. Turning back, he reached the temple stairs in time to see Arktos puffing up the trail, sweat beading on his bald head.
“Where’s the girl?” Lukos asked. If she had not ventured to the back of the island, that only left the front. Arktos glanced up at him, his brows drawn together in puzzlement.
“Eh?” he stopped and put his hands on his hips, breathing hard. “What girl? Oh, your mouthy one?” He gave one meaty half shrug, much to Lukos’s annoyance.
“Has anyone seen her?”
“Haven’t looked for her,” Arktos eyed him suspiciously. “Was she not in her cage?”
“Find her.” Lukos took the stairs two at a time, his mood darkening rapidly. Arktos sighed and turned longsufferingly back down the hill, falling far behind his captain.
“The ship is being loaded,” the bigger man puffed at Lukos’s back. “As we speak.”
“Search the village,” Lukos ignored him. “I want her found.” Why should he care if she killed herself? She had been nothing but a pain in his side ever since he’d met her. Still, the thought that she had bothered him more and more the longer the day wore on. All his boats were accounted for and this satisfied him that she had not been stupid enough to try and escape. But she was not in the village or the with the other slaves.
No one reported seeing her aboard the Acetone. She was not aboard the derelict warship or the others waiting to be deconstructed. He had his men swarm the forest and still there was no sign of her. Yet, all work could not cease just for one slave woman that no one would be sorry to see the back of.
He was forced to see to his other duties and wait while others searched.
Earlier in the morning, before Lukos had even started up the cliffs, Bianor slowly made his way up the gangway, book in hand. He yawned, his wrinkled hand briefly covering his mouth as he walked across the deck and down into the hold. A scratching sound made him pause on the stairs, looking around. When it stopped, he frowned but continued his descent until he heard a soft mewling coming from Lukos’s cabin.
“A cat?” he muttered to himself. How could a cat have gotten stuck in there? His movements were slow and his joints ached as they always did after storms. At last he eased open the door to find a little gray face peering up at him. “Hello,” he murmured, looking from the cat to the bed.
His eyes widened in alarm and he shut the door quickly. What was she doing there? Alone? Where was Lukos? Just then, he heard heavy stumping across the mid deck. A thought occurred to Bianor just then, prompting him to open the cabin door again and slip inside.
“Good morning,” he said slowly, keeping his frame against the door. “I have something I wish to speak with you about…” This was the first slave he’d ever seen either escape Lukos, or some how twist him in order to get her way. She could be of use...
Lukos lay in the dark for a long time, listening hard, but no sound apart from the rain reached him. He shifted, wincing and turned onto his side, facing the doorway. Her eyes occupied his thoughts. They were so expressive. One moment they were filled with loathing and the next she was looking at him as though he was an equal. Of course, he’d ensured the hatred had returned. That was her last glare to him; angry fury.
He sighed and turned over the other way, staring at the black interior of the temple. Probably she was somewhere among the chests, waiting for him to go to sleep so that she could sneak up and kill him. That thought made him sit up. Pushing back the blankets, he crouched by the mattress, easing it up and taking out a knife from underneath.
“Phaidra,” his voice seemed only to increase the silence. Standing up, he kept the knife ready, tense as he felt his way around the room. Every few steps he would pause, listening hard for any sign of life or movement but he could hear nothing above his own breathing in the impenetrable silence. At last, after checking every inch, including the springs at the back of the temple, he was convinced she was no longer there.
He stood, patting the flat of the blade against his thigh, thinking. This was an island. There was nowhere she could hide forever. Glancing out at the rain, he relaxed a little. The storm at least would prevent her from trying anything so foolish as rowing out to sea. No one would be able to help her if she was lost on the water.
For the moment, he decided to let her have her way. There was no sense looking for her outside in the dark and the rain. Likely she would take shelter with the slaves. With that settled in his mind, he at last returned to bed, placing the dagger back under the mattress and at last let sleep claim him.
The night was long, his dreams fragmented and harrowing. In one, he woke suddenly to find her beside him, his dagger in her hands, poised against his heart. One false move and she would plunge the blade deep into his chest, ending him. He sat up, sweating, hands scrambling under the mattress, finding the weapon where he’d left it.
In another dream, he pursued her through the temple, stalking her every step. She kept looking back at him, that glinting smirk goading him on. Her hair streamed out behind her, and when he reached out, he could feel its softness against his fingertips, though he could never catch her. He followed her through the shadows, into the back of the temple where it opened into a natural cave system of hot springs. Weaving her way around them, she led him on another chase, up a dirt trail and out onto the cliffs at the back of the island.
Anxiety plucked at him as he watched her wander close to the edge. At last she stopped walking and waited for him to catch up to her. On her wrists were the bronze shackles from the ship. She smiled at him, opening her arms impossibly wide, the chain stretching the length of her arms. For a moment he moved toward her, thinking that she meant to embrace him but she stepped back instead, her smile fixed. He cried out, reaching for her as she allowed herself to fall backwards, plummeting off the cliff face into the icy water below.
He startled awake to full sun streaming through the doorway. Again he checked for the dagger under the mattress but it remained in its place. A quick scan of the room revealed it to still be empty. Part of him half expected the other side of the bed to be warm from where she’d snuck into it but the sheets were cold to the touch and he realized how idiotic that thought had been. Phaidra wanted nothing to do with him. Of course she didn’t. There were rats on the ship; that had been the only reason she’d refused the floor last time.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and thought uneasily of his last dream. Would she have gone to the cliffs? Had that dream been a sign? A warning, maybe? Rubbing his mouth, he stared at the now cleared table. Sometime in the early morning, one of the slaves usually came to clear away food but there wasn’t any replacement food there now. That meant he was awake earlier than usual.
Stopping only long enough to pull on his boots and find a dry shirt, he moved swiftly through the temple. All the way through the cave system, side steaming stepping pools, both shallow and deep, he knew she couldn’t have come this way. He’d followed her wherever she went last night. There was no way she knew about this path and yet his apprehension would not allow him to deny the possibility that she had indeed thrown herself into the ocean.
He’d certainly pushed her last night and he thought on it for the first time with the smallest beginnings of something close to guilt. His boots thudded along the dirt path. Like the cave the slaves were kept in below the temple, this one also had natural windows in its ceiling that allowed sunlight to filter into the gloom, illuminating his way. The path sloped up and he stepped out onto the sea cliffs.
Wind assaulted him immediately and he walked as close to the edge as he dared, scanning the rocks far below for any signs of a body. He walked nearly the whole of the island as far as the cliffs would allow until he was satisfied that she had never come this way. Turning back, he reached the temple stairs in time to see Arktos puffing up the trail, sweat beading on his bald head.
“Where’s the girl?” Lukos asked. If she had not ventured to the back of the island, that only left the front. Arktos glanced up at him, his brows drawn together in puzzlement.
“Eh?” he stopped and put his hands on his hips, breathing hard. “What girl? Oh, your mouthy one?” He gave one meaty half shrug, much to Lukos’s annoyance.
“Has anyone seen her?”
“Haven’t looked for her,” Arktos eyed him suspiciously. “Was she not in her cage?”
“Find her.” Lukos took the stairs two at a time, his mood darkening rapidly. Arktos sighed and turned longsufferingly back down the hill, falling far behind his captain.
“The ship is being loaded,” the bigger man puffed at Lukos’s back. “As we speak.”
“Search the village,” Lukos ignored him. “I want her found.” Why should he care if she killed herself? She had been nothing but a pain in his side ever since he’d met her. Still, the thought that she had bothered him more and more the longer the day wore on. All his boats were accounted for and this satisfied him that she had not been stupid enough to try and escape. But she was not in the village or the with the other slaves.
No one reported seeing her aboard the Acetone. She was not aboard the derelict warship or the others waiting to be deconstructed. He had his men swarm the forest and still there was no sign of her. Yet, all work could not cease just for one slave woman that no one would be sorry to see the back of.
He was forced to see to his other duties and wait while others searched.
Earlier in the morning, before Lukos had even started up the cliffs, Bianor slowly made his way up the gangway, book in hand. He yawned, his wrinkled hand briefly covering his mouth as he walked across the deck and down into the hold. A scratching sound made him pause on the stairs, looking around. When it stopped, he frowned but continued his descent until he heard a soft mewling coming from Lukos’s cabin.
“A cat?” he muttered to himself. How could a cat have gotten stuck in there? His movements were slow and his joints ached as they always did after storms. At last he eased open the door to find a little gray face peering up at him. “Hello,” he murmured, looking from the cat to the bed.
His eyes widened in alarm and he shut the door quickly. What was she doing there? Alone? Where was Lukos? Just then, he heard heavy stumping across the mid deck. A thought occurred to Bianor just then, prompting him to open the cabin door again and slip inside.
“Good morning,” he said slowly, keeping his frame against the door. “I have something I wish to speak with you about…” This was the first slave he’d ever seen either escape Lukos, or some how twist him in order to get her way. She could be of use...
Thalia hadn't slept so well since she'd been at home earlier in the week. Without a brooding naked man hogging the bed or relegating you to the floor, it was amazing how easily sleep came to you; even in a foreign bed, or a foreign place. The cat slept most of the evening; tired from being left out in the rain, and then when the sun began to rise, so did she; sniffing about the cabin and then jumping to stand atop her as she purred. Thalia rolled over and covered her head. But the feline was persistent and pawed at her face just beneath the covers.
When she jumped down and mewled at the door, Thalia ignored her. As far as she was concerned, the cat was hers now. Her guardian against vermin. Who needed a man when you had animals? When the door creaked open, she immediately opened her eyes and stared back at a surprised Bianor, who, after seeing her, quickly closed the door again. ....Well... She supposed it would only be a matter of time before she was dragged out and thrown in a cage. At least she'd spent one night warm and comfortable and with a full belly.
She sighed and pushed herself up on the bed and Bianor reopened the door and slipped inside. She was sleep-tousled and her hair was a bit disheveled still from the night before,...and despite Lukos's attempts, her arm was indeed quite bruised; the imprint of his hand was left where he'd gripped her so tightly the night before, and she felt sore all over from having fought him so vehemently. But her face was starting to heal. Instead of a deep purple, the edges were beginning to yellow.
Bianor closed the door and leaned back on it; the portly man looked quite conspiratorial, and Thalia narrowed her eyes at him. Would he attempt anything against her, she was certain she could best him. He didn't have the strength or the height that Lukos or Arktos did.
He greeted her pleasantly enough and asked if he could speak to her about something. She shifted up in the bed and leaned against the wall; crossing her arms over her chest. Taking it as permission to continue, Bianor stepped further into the door and cleared his throat. "I believe we can be of equal service to each other. Judging by the fact that you are here and Lukos is not, I'm guessing he doesn't know you're here." Thalia said nothing, but she didn't deny his observation which emboldened the man. "Rest assured, I will keep your secret. You may stay here for the remainder of the day.. I'll even bring you food and deflect Lukos should he ask where you are. ...I only have a small request in return."
Thalia turned her chin suspiciously. "What is it...?" Bianor adjusted his tablet in his hand. "oh... just that.. if you happen to find out what Lukos is burying and where, that you will let me know as soon as you find out.." Thalia pursed her lips. "Why would I find that out.. he doesn't exactly confide in me about anything.." Bianor gave a wave of his hand dismissively. "Do we have a deal?" Thalia stared at him for a moment before sighing. "Yeah... fine." Bianor gave a nod of confirmation and a weaselly smile. "Very good. Well.. With that being said, let's see if I can rustle you some breakfast, shall we?"
Thalia was pretty sure she was getting the better end of the bargain out of this. She doubted she'd ever find out what Lukos was hiding or where...nor did she particularly care. Either way, she'd be able to hide for the rest of the day which was just fine by her. Otherwise, she was fairly certain Lukos would have shoved her back in the cage for the day. ...Granted... it wasn't that much of a cage, anymore. Bianor ducked out and left her; returning with a bag of food; fresh bread, fruit, some boiled eggs and water, and some fresh ham. She took the bag and he left her again. Thalia set up her feast on the small table and happily ate the village food as she was certain the boat itself didn't have meat that wasn't cured on it. She offered her new friend some of the ham and water from the skein and then the feline settled into the bed to clean her fur. Sighing, she decided that if she were going to be around a while, she would need a name. So she considered what she could name her after. As she'd decided she was a gift from the Gods to protect her from the rodents, she settled on Artemis; as the Goddess was the goddess of wild animals. ...Though the cat didn't seem very wild, to her. She wondered if she was one of the village cats. If someone was missing her and she felt a twinge of regret. Perhaps she should let her out to find her way home.
After she'd eaten, she let her hair down and rebraided it, though not as well as what Cilla had done. She used a bit of the water and the edge of the drape fabric to wash up, though she would need a proper bath rather soon. There was only so much rain and sponge baths could do.
The day droned on with only the sound of the crew roaming around the ship to dull the monotony. Thankfully, the window faced out of the harbor, so she was able to open it and stare out at the sea and the fishing boats that sailed out to collect their catch. It was small consolation from being trapped in the tiny room all day. Bianor was true to his word and returned again for a mid-day meal, and then again in the evening when dusk began to fall. He came back to collect what she hadn't eaten and left her for the night. She considered going back to the temple..if only out of sheer boredom. But the last thing she wanted to do was fight with Lukos, nor share his bed, or sleep in the cage. So she settled into the darkness with her cat as her only friend. When the ship grew quiet, she ventured out to explore it; wandering below deck where she hadn't been before with the lamp that had been in Lukos's room. Most things were in crates, but at least she was able to get a feel for the layout.
When she'd explored every cranny, she went back to the cabin and settled in for the night; stifling the lamp so it wouldn't attract anyone before she curled up to sleep again.
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Thalia hadn't slept so well since she'd been at home earlier in the week. Without a brooding naked man hogging the bed or relegating you to the floor, it was amazing how easily sleep came to you; even in a foreign bed, or a foreign place. The cat slept most of the evening; tired from being left out in the rain, and then when the sun began to rise, so did she; sniffing about the cabin and then jumping to stand atop her as she purred. Thalia rolled over and covered her head. But the feline was persistent and pawed at her face just beneath the covers.
When she jumped down and mewled at the door, Thalia ignored her. As far as she was concerned, the cat was hers now. Her guardian against vermin. Who needed a man when you had animals? When the door creaked open, she immediately opened her eyes and stared back at a surprised Bianor, who, after seeing her, quickly closed the door again. ....Well... She supposed it would only be a matter of time before she was dragged out and thrown in a cage. At least she'd spent one night warm and comfortable and with a full belly.
She sighed and pushed herself up on the bed and Bianor reopened the door and slipped inside. She was sleep-tousled and her hair was a bit disheveled still from the night before,...and despite Lukos's attempts, her arm was indeed quite bruised; the imprint of his hand was left where he'd gripped her so tightly the night before, and she felt sore all over from having fought him so vehemently. But her face was starting to heal. Instead of a deep purple, the edges were beginning to yellow.
Bianor closed the door and leaned back on it; the portly man looked quite conspiratorial, and Thalia narrowed her eyes at him. Would he attempt anything against her, she was certain she could best him. He didn't have the strength or the height that Lukos or Arktos did.
He greeted her pleasantly enough and asked if he could speak to her about something. She shifted up in the bed and leaned against the wall; crossing her arms over her chest. Taking it as permission to continue, Bianor stepped further into the door and cleared his throat. "I believe we can be of equal service to each other. Judging by the fact that you are here and Lukos is not, I'm guessing he doesn't know you're here." Thalia said nothing, but she didn't deny his observation which emboldened the man. "Rest assured, I will keep your secret. You may stay here for the remainder of the day.. I'll even bring you food and deflect Lukos should he ask where you are. ...I only have a small request in return."
Thalia turned her chin suspiciously. "What is it...?" Bianor adjusted his tablet in his hand. "oh... just that.. if you happen to find out what Lukos is burying and where, that you will let me know as soon as you find out.." Thalia pursed her lips. "Why would I find that out.. he doesn't exactly confide in me about anything.." Bianor gave a wave of his hand dismissively. "Do we have a deal?" Thalia stared at him for a moment before sighing. "Yeah... fine." Bianor gave a nod of confirmation and a weaselly smile. "Very good. Well.. With that being said, let's see if I can rustle you some breakfast, shall we?"
Thalia was pretty sure she was getting the better end of the bargain out of this. She doubted she'd ever find out what Lukos was hiding or where...nor did she particularly care. Either way, she'd be able to hide for the rest of the day which was just fine by her. Otherwise, she was fairly certain Lukos would have shoved her back in the cage for the day. ...Granted... it wasn't that much of a cage, anymore. Bianor ducked out and left her; returning with a bag of food; fresh bread, fruit, some boiled eggs and water, and some fresh ham. She took the bag and he left her again. Thalia set up her feast on the small table and happily ate the village food as she was certain the boat itself didn't have meat that wasn't cured on it. She offered her new friend some of the ham and water from the skein and then the feline settled into the bed to clean her fur. Sighing, she decided that if she were going to be around a while, she would need a name. So she considered what she could name her after. As she'd decided she was a gift from the Gods to protect her from the rodents, she settled on Artemis; as the Goddess was the goddess of wild animals. ...Though the cat didn't seem very wild, to her. She wondered if she was one of the village cats. If someone was missing her and she felt a twinge of regret. Perhaps she should let her out to find her way home.
After she'd eaten, she let her hair down and rebraided it, though not as well as what Cilla had done. She used a bit of the water and the edge of the drape fabric to wash up, though she would need a proper bath rather soon. There was only so much rain and sponge baths could do.
The day droned on with only the sound of the crew roaming around the ship to dull the monotony. Thankfully, the window faced out of the harbor, so she was able to open it and stare out at the sea and the fishing boats that sailed out to collect their catch. It was small consolation from being trapped in the tiny room all day. Bianor was true to his word and returned again for a mid-day meal, and then again in the evening when dusk began to fall. He came back to collect what she hadn't eaten and left her for the night. She considered going back to the temple..if only out of sheer boredom. But the last thing she wanted to do was fight with Lukos, nor share his bed, or sleep in the cage. So she settled into the darkness with her cat as her only friend. When the ship grew quiet, she ventured out to explore it; wandering below deck where she hadn't been before with the lamp that had been in Lukos's room. Most things were in crates, but at least she was able to get a feel for the layout.
When she'd explored every cranny, she went back to the cabin and settled in for the night; stifling the lamp so it wouldn't attract anyone before she curled up to sleep again.
Thalia hadn't slept so well since she'd been at home earlier in the week. Without a brooding naked man hogging the bed or relegating you to the floor, it was amazing how easily sleep came to you; even in a foreign bed, or a foreign place. The cat slept most of the evening; tired from being left out in the rain, and then when the sun began to rise, so did she; sniffing about the cabin and then jumping to stand atop her as she purred. Thalia rolled over and covered her head. But the feline was persistent and pawed at her face just beneath the covers.
When she jumped down and mewled at the door, Thalia ignored her. As far as she was concerned, the cat was hers now. Her guardian against vermin. Who needed a man when you had animals? When the door creaked open, she immediately opened her eyes and stared back at a surprised Bianor, who, after seeing her, quickly closed the door again. ....Well... She supposed it would only be a matter of time before she was dragged out and thrown in a cage. At least she'd spent one night warm and comfortable and with a full belly.
She sighed and pushed herself up on the bed and Bianor reopened the door and slipped inside. She was sleep-tousled and her hair was a bit disheveled still from the night before,...and despite Lukos's attempts, her arm was indeed quite bruised; the imprint of his hand was left where he'd gripped her so tightly the night before, and she felt sore all over from having fought him so vehemently. But her face was starting to heal. Instead of a deep purple, the edges were beginning to yellow.
Bianor closed the door and leaned back on it; the portly man looked quite conspiratorial, and Thalia narrowed her eyes at him. Would he attempt anything against her, she was certain she could best him. He didn't have the strength or the height that Lukos or Arktos did.
He greeted her pleasantly enough and asked if he could speak to her about something. She shifted up in the bed and leaned against the wall; crossing her arms over her chest. Taking it as permission to continue, Bianor stepped further into the door and cleared his throat. "I believe we can be of equal service to each other. Judging by the fact that you are here and Lukos is not, I'm guessing he doesn't know you're here." Thalia said nothing, but she didn't deny his observation which emboldened the man. "Rest assured, I will keep your secret. You may stay here for the remainder of the day.. I'll even bring you food and deflect Lukos should he ask where you are. ...I only have a small request in return."
Thalia turned her chin suspiciously. "What is it...?" Bianor adjusted his tablet in his hand. "oh... just that.. if you happen to find out what Lukos is burying and where, that you will let me know as soon as you find out.." Thalia pursed her lips. "Why would I find that out.. he doesn't exactly confide in me about anything.." Bianor gave a wave of his hand dismissively. "Do we have a deal?" Thalia stared at him for a moment before sighing. "Yeah... fine." Bianor gave a nod of confirmation and a weaselly smile. "Very good. Well.. With that being said, let's see if I can rustle you some breakfast, shall we?"
Thalia was pretty sure she was getting the better end of the bargain out of this. She doubted she'd ever find out what Lukos was hiding or where...nor did she particularly care. Either way, she'd be able to hide for the rest of the day which was just fine by her. Otherwise, she was fairly certain Lukos would have shoved her back in the cage for the day. ...Granted... it wasn't that much of a cage, anymore. Bianor ducked out and left her; returning with a bag of food; fresh bread, fruit, some boiled eggs and water, and some fresh ham. She took the bag and he left her again. Thalia set up her feast on the small table and happily ate the village food as she was certain the boat itself didn't have meat that wasn't cured on it. She offered her new friend some of the ham and water from the skein and then the feline settled into the bed to clean her fur. Sighing, she decided that if she were going to be around a while, she would need a name. So she considered what she could name her after. As she'd decided she was a gift from the Gods to protect her from the rodents, she settled on Artemis; as the Goddess was the goddess of wild animals. ...Though the cat didn't seem very wild, to her. She wondered if she was one of the village cats. If someone was missing her and she felt a twinge of regret. Perhaps she should let her out to find her way home.
After she'd eaten, she let her hair down and rebraided it, though not as well as what Cilla had done. She used a bit of the water and the edge of the drape fabric to wash up, though she would need a proper bath rather soon. There was only so much rain and sponge baths could do.
The day droned on with only the sound of the crew roaming around the ship to dull the monotony. Thankfully, the window faced out of the harbor, so she was able to open it and stare out at the sea and the fishing boats that sailed out to collect their catch. It was small consolation from being trapped in the tiny room all day. Bianor was true to his word and returned again for a mid-day meal, and then again in the evening when dusk began to fall. He came back to collect what she hadn't eaten and left her for the night. She considered going back to the temple..if only out of sheer boredom. But the last thing she wanted to do was fight with Lukos, nor share his bed, or sleep in the cage. So she settled into the darkness with her cat as her only friend. When the ship grew quiet, she ventured out to explore it; wandering below deck where she hadn't been before with the lamp that had been in Lukos's room. Most things were in crates, but at least she was able to get a feel for the layout.
When she'd explored every cranny, she went back to the cabin and settled in for the night; stifling the lamp so it wouldn't attract anyone before she curled up to sleep again.
Throughout the afternoon, his agitation escalated to anger. Where was she? The whole village had been turned upside down in an effort to find her. Perhaps he should have kept her escape secret but there was little point other than postponing the inevitable. Sooner or later Arktos or one of the others would have found out that she was missing; that his control over her was not what it should be. At least this way it simply looked like she’d escaped him, rather than him allowing her to roam freely.
By the time the sun dipped back into the ocean, bathing the sky in a wash of pink and orange, his anger had cooled again. The certainty returned; she would come back. Wherever she was, she was hungry. Where was she getting water? Likely she’d managed to elude them all by hiding up in the foliage of a tree. His men had simply missed her. When she was hungry enough, she would slink back to the temple.
Lukos sat cross legged on his bed, absently drinking, his gaze moving obsessively to the doorway. It was full dark outside. Thunder rumbled in the distance but it wasn’t likely to rain on the island again. The clouds were out over the water. Even so, lightning flashed, illuminating the empty porch beyond.
When he’d come back earlier that evening, he’d retraced his path from morning; checking the main temple, the doors, the hot springs, and the cliffs again. It was like she’d simply vanished. Glancing around, he felt a little flutter in his stomach. Had she been taken? Had she prayed for release and had the god of war answered? Perhaps she’d been turned into a bird? Or a dolphin? He was not normally a superstitious man but the dark sometimes brought out irrational thoughts and there was no one there to talk him into sense.
Suddenly he didn’t want to be in the temple anymore. Taking his wine skein with him, he walked unsteadily out onto the porch, looking out over his little kingdom. The waning moon was still full enough to cast a decadent amount of cold light across the island. From here the lagoon looked a bit like the silver disc that she’d been fiddling with last night. He lifted the skein to his lips again but it was empty.
Typical.
He held up the skein, considered it for a moment, and then released it. It thudded on the stone floor, lying flat and defeated. With a sigh, he ambled down the path toward the docks. His feet were sluggish, his movements dulled and lazy. The wine sat warm in his stomach. Insects buzzed as he moved down the steep path. All at once, he stumbled, sprawling head long into the dirt.
Lukos lay there a moment, trying to decide if he was alright or not before rolling onto his back and looking up through a patch of cloud at the net of stars. Surely they’d missed something. He flung out his arms on the path, not bothering to get up. It was only when discomfort set in that he finally roused himself and stood.
It took the better part of an hour but he at last zig-zagged his way down the path and onto the docks. The only place to sleep, other than the temple, was his cabin. To stay in the temple tonight felt like inviting himself to be struck dead. Clapboards creaked under his boots. Water sloshed softly against the Aceton’s side.
With the help of the rope railings of the gangway, Lukos pulled himself up onto the middeck. He drifted over to the stairs, taking them one at a time, slowly, considering each one as he stepped down. At last he found himself in the short pitch black passage outside of his cabin. His hand fumbled with the latch and the door swung slowly outward.
He stepped into the room and drew the door closed, not bothering with any attempt at quiet. There was no one on the ship to be silent for. His thoughts were dull, his movements sluggish. Standing there, he swayed for a moment before allowing the wall to support him as he pried off his boots. There was nothing he wanted so much as to sleep.
Lukos put out his hand, running it over the wall and gingerly feeling out into the darkness for his bed frame. What he found instead was a blanketed foot. His hand closed over the foot and moved up to an ankle, and then a leg. His thoughts were slow to catch up and he found himself squinting into the dark, trying to see who would dare sleep in his bed but all at once he knew.
“You.” The word was drawn out and he leaned one knee onto the bed, clambering over her the way she’d done to him though instead of being quick and inspired by fear, he was clumsy, collapsing on her other side against the wall. “I thought you flew away.” He was so tired and oddly calm now that he knew she was alive. His body relaxed and he turned his back to her, his forehead pressed against the wooden timber. His breathing deepened and he said no more to her. Sleep overtook him and he did not fight.
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Throughout the afternoon, his agitation escalated to anger. Where was she? The whole village had been turned upside down in an effort to find her. Perhaps he should have kept her escape secret but there was little point other than postponing the inevitable. Sooner or later Arktos or one of the others would have found out that she was missing; that his control over her was not what it should be. At least this way it simply looked like she’d escaped him, rather than him allowing her to roam freely.
By the time the sun dipped back into the ocean, bathing the sky in a wash of pink and orange, his anger had cooled again. The certainty returned; she would come back. Wherever she was, she was hungry. Where was she getting water? Likely she’d managed to elude them all by hiding up in the foliage of a tree. His men had simply missed her. When she was hungry enough, she would slink back to the temple.
Lukos sat cross legged on his bed, absently drinking, his gaze moving obsessively to the doorway. It was full dark outside. Thunder rumbled in the distance but it wasn’t likely to rain on the island again. The clouds were out over the water. Even so, lightning flashed, illuminating the empty porch beyond.
When he’d come back earlier that evening, he’d retraced his path from morning; checking the main temple, the doors, the hot springs, and the cliffs again. It was like she’d simply vanished. Glancing around, he felt a little flutter in his stomach. Had she been taken? Had she prayed for release and had the god of war answered? Perhaps she’d been turned into a bird? Or a dolphin? He was not normally a superstitious man but the dark sometimes brought out irrational thoughts and there was no one there to talk him into sense.
Suddenly he didn’t want to be in the temple anymore. Taking his wine skein with him, he walked unsteadily out onto the porch, looking out over his little kingdom. The waning moon was still full enough to cast a decadent amount of cold light across the island. From here the lagoon looked a bit like the silver disc that she’d been fiddling with last night. He lifted the skein to his lips again but it was empty.
Typical.
He held up the skein, considered it for a moment, and then released it. It thudded on the stone floor, lying flat and defeated. With a sigh, he ambled down the path toward the docks. His feet were sluggish, his movements dulled and lazy. The wine sat warm in his stomach. Insects buzzed as he moved down the steep path. All at once, he stumbled, sprawling head long into the dirt.
Lukos lay there a moment, trying to decide if he was alright or not before rolling onto his back and looking up through a patch of cloud at the net of stars. Surely they’d missed something. He flung out his arms on the path, not bothering to get up. It was only when discomfort set in that he finally roused himself and stood.
It took the better part of an hour but he at last zig-zagged his way down the path and onto the docks. The only place to sleep, other than the temple, was his cabin. To stay in the temple tonight felt like inviting himself to be struck dead. Clapboards creaked under his boots. Water sloshed softly against the Aceton’s side.
With the help of the rope railings of the gangway, Lukos pulled himself up onto the middeck. He drifted over to the stairs, taking them one at a time, slowly, considering each one as he stepped down. At last he found himself in the short pitch black passage outside of his cabin. His hand fumbled with the latch and the door swung slowly outward.
He stepped into the room and drew the door closed, not bothering with any attempt at quiet. There was no one on the ship to be silent for. His thoughts were dull, his movements sluggish. Standing there, he swayed for a moment before allowing the wall to support him as he pried off his boots. There was nothing he wanted so much as to sleep.
Lukos put out his hand, running it over the wall and gingerly feeling out into the darkness for his bed frame. What he found instead was a blanketed foot. His hand closed over the foot and moved up to an ankle, and then a leg. His thoughts were slow to catch up and he found himself squinting into the dark, trying to see who would dare sleep in his bed but all at once he knew.
“You.” The word was drawn out and he leaned one knee onto the bed, clambering over her the way she’d done to him though instead of being quick and inspired by fear, he was clumsy, collapsing on her other side against the wall. “I thought you flew away.” He was so tired and oddly calm now that he knew she was alive. His body relaxed and he turned his back to her, his forehead pressed against the wooden timber. His breathing deepened and he said no more to her. Sleep overtook him and he did not fight.
Throughout the afternoon, his agitation escalated to anger. Where was she? The whole village had been turned upside down in an effort to find her. Perhaps he should have kept her escape secret but there was little point other than postponing the inevitable. Sooner or later Arktos or one of the others would have found out that she was missing; that his control over her was not what it should be. At least this way it simply looked like she’d escaped him, rather than him allowing her to roam freely.
By the time the sun dipped back into the ocean, bathing the sky in a wash of pink and orange, his anger had cooled again. The certainty returned; she would come back. Wherever she was, she was hungry. Where was she getting water? Likely she’d managed to elude them all by hiding up in the foliage of a tree. His men had simply missed her. When she was hungry enough, she would slink back to the temple.
Lukos sat cross legged on his bed, absently drinking, his gaze moving obsessively to the doorway. It was full dark outside. Thunder rumbled in the distance but it wasn’t likely to rain on the island again. The clouds were out over the water. Even so, lightning flashed, illuminating the empty porch beyond.
When he’d come back earlier that evening, he’d retraced his path from morning; checking the main temple, the doors, the hot springs, and the cliffs again. It was like she’d simply vanished. Glancing around, he felt a little flutter in his stomach. Had she been taken? Had she prayed for release and had the god of war answered? Perhaps she’d been turned into a bird? Or a dolphin? He was not normally a superstitious man but the dark sometimes brought out irrational thoughts and there was no one there to talk him into sense.
Suddenly he didn’t want to be in the temple anymore. Taking his wine skein with him, he walked unsteadily out onto the porch, looking out over his little kingdom. The waning moon was still full enough to cast a decadent amount of cold light across the island. From here the lagoon looked a bit like the silver disc that she’d been fiddling with last night. He lifted the skein to his lips again but it was empty.
Typical.
He held up the skein, considered it for a moment, and then released it. It thudded on the stone floor, lying flat and defeated. With a sigh, he ambled down the path toward the docks. His feet were sluggish, his movements dulled and lazy. The wine sat warm in his stomach. Insects buzzed as he moved down the steep path. All at once, he stumbled, sprawling head long into the dirt.
Lukos lay there a moment, trying to decide if he was alright or not before rolling onto his back and looking up through a patch of cloud at the net of stars. Surely they’d missed something. He flung out his arms on the path, not bothering to get up. It was only when discomfort set in that he finally roused himself and stood.
It took the better part of an hour but he at last zig-zagged his way down the path and onto the docks. The only place to sleep, other than the temple, was his cabin. To stay in the temple tonight felt like inviting himself to be struck dead. Clapboards creaked under his boots. Water sloshed softly against the Aceton’s side.
With the help of the rope railings of the gangway, Lukos pulled himself up onto the middeck. He drifted over to the stairs, taking them one at a time, slowly, considering each one as he stepped down. At last he found himself in the short pitch black passage outside of his cabin. His hand fumbled with the latch and the door swung slowly outward.
He stepped into the room and drew the door closed, not bothering with any attempt at quiet. There was no one on the ship to be silent for. His thoughts were dull, his movements sluggish. Standing there, he swayed for a moment before allowing the wall to support him as he pried off his boots. There was nothing he wanted so much as to sleep.
Lukos put out his hand, running it over the wall and gingerly feeling out into the darkness for his bed frame. What he found instead was a blanketed foot. His hand closed over the foot and moved up to an ankle, and then a leg. His thoughts were slow to catch up and he found himself squinting into the dark, trying to see who would dare sleep in his bed but all at once he knew.
“You.” The word was drawn out and he leaned one knee onto the bed, clambering over her the way she’d done to him though instead of being quick and inspired by fear, he was clumsy, collapsing on her other side against the wall. “I thought you flew away.” He was so tired and oddly calm now that he knew she was alive. His body relaxed and he turned his back to her, his forehead pressed against the wooden timber. His breathing deepened and he said no more to her. Sleep overtook him and he did not fight.
She slept soundly until he clunked onto the deck. His heavy, uneven footsteps could have woken the dead.. but she didn't feel like she was in much danger in the captains quarters. Whoever was upstairs, would probably move on. ...Save they traveled downstairs...and then suddenly the door was banging open. Her heart climbed into her throat, but he was outlined in the moonlight from the window. Cursing beneath her breath, she kept herself from moving as he pulled off his boots and stumbled to the bed. His hand found her foot..then ankle and leg before he deduced who it was. And then, he fell atop her unceremoniously; muttering something about flying away. And he...reeked of stale wine.
She sat up as he rolled off her to face the wall. "You're sauced!" She glared at him, but he didn't reply; having passed out. With a frustrated growl, she climbed out of the bed. It was tiny and there was no way she was going to share it with him if she didn't have to. So she laced on her shoes and climbed out of the bed before plucked up Artemis; slipping out the door and disembarking from the ship.
In the late hours, the village was sound asleep again. She made her way back up the path to the temple; far too exhausted for this. Slipping back inside the temple that was still alight from when he'd been there earlier, she shut the door and set the cat down. Padding over to the area where the table and bed were, she set the cat down and placed some leftover fish on the floor then went to the back of the temple to find a place to relieve herself. Instead, she stumbled onto the caves and the heated springs beyond them. She gave a gasp of surprise and went back to the temple to take up a lamp so she could see better. Inside the cavern there were pools of heated water and more crates; crates with oils and soaps, linen wraps for towels and any manner of luxuries she couldn't even imagine a pirate having.
Even with as tired as she was, she stripped the gown he'd given off her and pulled her shoes off. Unwrapping her hair, she took up some oils and soaps and went to one of the pools. They were the perfect temperature; as if they were lit from below like the baths in Athenia. She gave a contented purr and sunk in; easing her sore muscles into the hot water. She stayed there until her fingers were wrinkling, and when she was getting sleepy, she washed her hair and body and then climbed out before wrapping a sheet around her to dry off. She then used the oil to moisturize her skin; making it glow as she was used to. Whatever he thought he'd save it for was beyond her.. it wasn't as if he used it.
She wandered back out into the temple and considered the tassels she'd seen the day before and went to one of the chests; pulling it open to find a collection of fine chitons. They were a bit delicate for her normal day to day taste, but they would work better than the dress she'd worn the past couple days. Normally she would sleep in a loose-fitting gown that slipped over her head, but she couldn't find one.
She remembered a vanity set that sat atop one of the crates. So she took up a comb and sat down on the bed to brush out her hair; feeling light years cleaner. She left it down so it would dry and then went about the room smothering the lamps save the one by the bed. She climbed between the soft sheets and sighed; stretching out in the thick pillows. The combination of being clean and in such fine materials was delicious and she almost felt at home....in a temple dedicated to the God of war.
Artemis jumped atop the bed and settled down next to her; her belly full of fish and content in her place and Thalia fell asleep with her hand on the cats head; stroking her gently which seemed to relax them both.
JD
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JD
Staff Team
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She slept soundly until he clunked onto the deck. His heavy, uneven footsteps could have woken the dead.. but she didn't feel like she was in much danger in the captains quarters. Whoever was upstairs, would probably move on. ...Save they traveled downstairs...and then suddenly the door was banging open. Her heart climbed into her throat, but he was outlined in the moonlight from the window. Cursing beneath her breath, she kept herself from moving as he pulled off his boots and stumbled to the bed. His hand found her foot..then ankle and leg before he deduced who it was. And then, he fell atop her unceremoniously; muttering something about flying away. And he...reeked of stale wine.
She sat up as he rolled off her to face the wall. "You're sauced!" She glared at him, but he didn't reply; having passed out. With a frustrated growl, she climbed out of the bed. It was tiny and there was no way she was going to share it with him if she didn't have to. So she laced on her shoes and climbed out of the bed before plucked up Artemis; slipping out the door and disembarking from the ship.
In the late hours, the village was sound asleep again. She made her way back up the path to the temple; far too exhausted for this. Slipping back inside the temple that was still alight from when he'd been there earlier, she shut the door and set the cat down. Padding over to the area where the table and bed were, she set the cat down and placed some leftover fish on the floor then went to the back of the temple to find a place to relieve herself. Instead, she stumbled onto the caves and the heated springs beyond them. She gave a gasp of surprise and went back to the temple to take up a lamp so she could see better. Inside the cavern there were pools of heated water and more crates; crates with oils and soaps, linen wraps for towels and any manner of luxuries she couldn't even imagine a pirate having.
Even with as tired as she was, she stripped the gown he'd given off her and pulled her shoes off. Unwrapping her hair, she took up some oils and soaps and went to one of the pools. They were the perfect temperature; as if they were lit from below like the baths in Athenia. She gave a contented purr and sunk in; easing her sore muscles into the hot water. She stayed there until her fingers were wrinkling, and when she was getting sleepy, she washed her hair and body and then climbed out before wrapping a sheet around her to dry off. She then used the oil to moisturize her skin; making it glow as she was used to. Whatever he thought he'd save it for was beyond her.. it wasn't as if he used it.
She wandered back out into the temple and considered the tassels she'd seen the day before and went to one of the chests; pulling it open to find a collection of fine chitons. They were a bit delicate for her normal day to day taste, but they would work better than the dress she'd worn the past couple days. Normally she would sleep in a loose-fitting gown that slipped over her head, but she couldn't find one.
She remembered a vanity set that sat atop one of the crates. So she took up a comb and sat down on the bed to brush out her hair; feeling light years cleaner. She left it down so it would dry and then went about the room smothering the lamps save the one by the bed. She climbed between the soft sheets and sighed; stretching out in the thick pillows. The combination of being clean and in such fine materials was delicious and she almost felt at home....in a temple dedicated to the God of war.
Artemis jumped atop the bed and settled down next to her; her belly full of fish and content in her place and Thalia fell asleep with her hand on the cats head; stroking her gently which seemed to relax them both.
She slept soundly until he clunked onto the deck. His heavy, uneven footsteps could have woken the dead.. but she didn't feel like she was in much danger in the captains quarters. Whoever was upstairs, would probably move on. ...Save they traveled downstairs...and then suddenly the door was banging open. Her heart climbed into her throat, but he was outlined in the moonlight from the window. Cursing beneath her breath, she kept herself from moving as he pulled off his boots and stumbled to the bed. His hand found her foot..then ankle and leg before he deduced who it was. And then, he fell atop her unceremoniously; muttering something about flying away. And he...reeked of stale wine.
She sat up as he rolled off her to face the wall. "You're sauced!" She glared at him, but he didn't reply; having passed out. With a frustrated growl, she climbed out of the bed. It was tiny and there was no way she was going to share it with him if she didn't have to. So she laced on her shoes and climbed out of the bed before plucked up Artemis; slipping out the door and disembarking from the ship.
In the late hours, the village was sound asleep again. She made her way back up the path to the temple; far too exhausted for this. Slipping back inside the temple that was still alight from when he'd been there earlier, she shut the door and set the cat down. Padding over to the area where the table and bed were, she set the cat down and placed some leftover fish on the floor then went to the back of the temple to find a place to relieve herself. Instead, she stumbled onto the caves and the heated springs beyond them. She gave a gasp of surprise and went back to the temple to take up a lamp so she could see better. Inside the cavern there were pools of heated water and more crates; crates with oils and soaps, linen wraps for towels and any manner of luxuries she couldn't even imagine a pirate having.
Even with as tired as she was, she stripped the gown he'd given off her and pulled her shoes off. Unwrapping her hair, she took up some oils and soaps and went to one of the pools. They were the perfect temperature; as if they were lit from below like the baths in Athenia. She gave a contented purr and sunk in; easing her sore muscles into the hot water. She stayed there until her fingers were wrinkling, and when she was getting sleepy, she washed her hair and body and then climbed out before wrapping a sheet around her to dry off. She then used the oil to moisturize her skin; making it glow as she was used to. Whatever he thought he'd save it for was beyond her.. it wasn't as if he used it.
She wandered back out into the temple and considered the tassels she'd seen the day before and went to one of the chests; pulling it open to find a collection of fine chitons. They were a bit delicate for her normal day to day taste, but they would work better than the dress she'd worn the past couple days. Normally she would sleep in a loose-fitting gown that slipped over her head, but she couldn't find one.
She remembered a vanity set that sat atop one of the crates. So she took up a comb and sat down on the bed to brush out her hair; feeling light years cleaner. She left it down so it would dry and then went about the room smothering the lamps save the one by the bed. She climbed between the soft sheets and sighed; stretching out in the thick pillows. The combination of being clean and in such fine materials was delicious and she almost felt at home....in a temple dedicated to the God of war.
Artemis jumped atop the bed and settled down next to her; her belly full of fish and content in her place and Thalia fell asleep with her hand on the cats head; stroking her gently which seemed to relax them both.
He did not stir; not when she left, and not in the intervening hours. His sleep, unlike the night before, was deep and dreamless, carrying him through to morning. While he slept, he did not notice the door open and a gray head poke through before quickly shutting the door again. The sound made him shift into the beginnings of consciousness. The quick steps ascending the stairs and subsequent creaking of the floorboards over his head brought him fully awake.
He moaned, gently pressing his fingertips to his eyes. Everything hurt and he knew if he moved, he might vomit. It was the creaking above his head that finally coaxed him into opening one eye. Light was just beginning to fill the cabin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gingerly rolled onto his side and tried to remember why he was in his cabin and not the temple.
Last night came back in fragments. He remembered going back to the temple, sure she would be there but she hadn’t been. A servant girl had brought up food he did not touch and wine that he had. The poor girl had run up to the temple twice to bring more. At one point he knew he’d become at least half convinced that Ares might strike him down and that was why he’d come to the ship. In the light of morning that thought felt idiotic. If Ares was angry then he’d had years to kill him.
More boots thumped across the deck. The sound magnified in his head until all he could think about was the pulsating headache. His stomach clenched and he flung himself over the side of the bed, dry heaving. Nothing came out and that made everything worse. Someone shouted and he winced. He had to get back to the cool silence of his oasis; away from people.
He eased himself out of the bed, unsteadily bent to grab his boots and carried them out the door. Bianor materialized out of the shadowy hold but did not speak as a hand was shoved nearly against his face. Without stopping to talk to anyone or answer any questions hurled his way, Lukos made his way down to the dock and began the long trudge up the hill. The path was so well traveled that the dirt had become a fine powder. Almost no rocks dug into his feet which was the small blessing of the morning.
He had to stop about midway up to try and vomit again but when he failed a second time, he ignored the feeling the rest of the way. His mouth tasted like something had crawled in and died. Every normal step felt jarring and so he took to nearly tiptoeing up the stairs. As soon as his feet hit the cool stone, he dropped his boots and sagged his shoulders, shuffling into the shadowy interior of the temple.
From the doorway he could see the bed and the two forms in it. Lukos narrowed his eyes at her for a second before sighing and turning away. He did not have it in him to fight her at the moment. Let her have the bed, though he vowed internally that once he felt like death wasn’t imminent, they would have a conversation about sleeping arrangements.
Up against the wall just past the bed and a little behind it stood at tall, rolled up rug. This he kicked at until it fell in a heap, at which point he nudged it, encouraging it to unroll. Without a second’s thought about what she would think, he sank down on it, and lay there with his eyes tightly shut, facing the wall.
Years. He hadn’t drank like that in years and now he remembered why. Sleep did not descend on him the way it had done last night. It fled, leaving him feeling raw. There was a vague impression that strengthened into a memory that she’d been in the cabin last night. Obviously she had not stayed and had come up here.
“I suppose,” his voice was hoarse. “You were on the ship the whole time.” He waited for her to respond and then, with his face still to the wall he said, “I thought maybe you’d jumped off the cliffs. Or were turned into a bird.” The last part was said half joking but he turned his face into the carpet as the effort of trying to laugh only intensified the throbbing sensation in his head.
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He did not stir; not when she left, and not in the intervening hours. His sleep, unlike the night before, was deep and dreamless, carrying him through to morning. While he slept, he did not notice the door open and a gray head poke through before quickly shutting the door again. The sound made him shift into the beginnings of consciousness. The quick steps ascending the stairs and subsequent creaking of the floorboards over his head brought him fully awake.
He moaned, gently pressing his fingertips to his eyes. Everything hurt and he knew if he moved, he might vomit. It was the creaking above his head that finally coaxed him into opening one eye. Light was just beginning to fill the cabin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gingerly rolled onto his side and tried to remember why he was in his cabin and not the temple.
Last night came back in fragments. He remembered going back to the temple, sure she would be there but she hadn’t been. A servant girl had brought up food he did not touch and wine that he had. The poor girl had run up to the temple twice to bring more. At one point he knew he’d become at least half convinced that Ares might strike him down and that was why he’d come to the ship. In the light of morning that thought felt idiotic. If Ares was angry then he’d had years to kill him.
More boots thumped across the deck. The sound magnified in his head until all he could think about was the pulsating headache. His stomach clenched and he flung himself over the side of the bed, dry heaving. Nothing came out and that made everything worse. Someone shouted and he winced. He had to get back to the cool silence of his oasis; away from people.
He eased himself out of the bed, unsteadily bent to grab his boots and carried them out the door. Bianor materialized out of the shadowy hold but did not speak as a hand was shoved nearly against his face. Without stopping to talk to anyone or answer any questions hurled his way, Lukos made his way down to the dock and began the long trudge up the hill. The path was so well traveled that the dirt had become a fine powder. Almost no rocks dug into his feet which was the small blessing of the morning.
He had to stop about midway up to try and vomit again but when he failed a second time, he ignored the feeling the rest of the way. His mouth tasted like something had crawled in and died. Every normal step felt jarring and so he took to nearly tiptoeing up the stairs. As soon as his feet hit the cool stone, he dropped his boots and sagged his shoulders, shuffling into the shadowy interior of the temple.
From the doorway he could see the bed and the two forms in it. Lukos narrowed his eyes at her for a second before sighing and turning away. He did not have it in him to fight her at the moment. Let her have the bed, though he vowed internally that once he felt like death wasn’t imminent, they would have a conversation about sleeping arrangements.
Up against the wall just past the bed and a little behind it stood at tall, rolled up rug. This he kicked at until it fell in a heap, at which point he nudged it, encouraging it to unroll. Without a second’s thought about what she would think, he sank down on it, and lay there with his eyes tightly shut, facing the wall.
Years. He hadn’t drank like that in years and now he remembered why. Sleep did not descend on him the way it had done last night. It fled, leaving him feeling raw. There was a vague impression that strengthened into a memory that she’d been in the cabin last night. Obviously she had not stayed and had come up here.
“I suppose,” his voice was hoarse. “You were on the ship the whole time.” He waited for her to respond and then, with his face still to the wall he said, “I thought maybe you’d jumped off the cliffs. Or were turned into a bird.” The last part was said half joking but he turned his face into the carpet as the effort of trying to laugh only intensified the throbbing sensation in his head.
He did not stir; not when she left, and not in the intervening hours. His sleep, unlike the night before, was deep and dreamless, carrying him through to morning. While he slept, he did not notice the door open and a gray head poke through before quickly shutting the door again. The sound made him shift into the beginnings of consciousness. The quick steps ascending the stairs and subsequent creaking of the floorboards over his head brought him fully awake.
He moaned, gently pressing his fingertips to his eyes. Everything hurt and he knew if he moved, he might vomit. It was the creaking above his head that finally coaxed him into opening one eye. Light was just beginning to fill the cabin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gingerly rolled onto his side and tried to remember why he was in his cabin and not the temple.
Last night came back in fragments. He remembered going back to the temple, sure she would be there but she hadn’t been. A servant girl had brought up food he did not touch and wine that he had. The poor girl had run up to the temple twice to bring more. At one point he knew he’d become at least half convinced that Ares might strike him down and that was why he’d come to the ship. In the light of morning that thought felt idiotic. If Ares was angry then he’d had years to kill him.
More boots thumped across the deck. The sound magnified in his head until all he could think about was the pulsating headache. His stomach clenched and he flung himself over the side of the bed, dry heaving. Nothing came out and that made everything worse. Someone shouted and he winced. He had to get back to the cool silence of his oasis; away from people.
He eased himself out of the bed, unsteadily bent to grab his boots and carried them out the door. Bianor materialized out of the shadowy hold but did not speak as a hand was shoved nearly against his face. Without stopping to talk to anyone or answer any questions hurled his way, Lukos made his way down to the dock and began the long trudge up the hill. The path was so well traveled that the dirt had become a fine powder. Almost no rocks dug into his feet which was the small blessing of the morning.
He had to stop about midway up to try and vomit again but when he failed a second time, he ignored the feeling the rest of the way. His mouth tasted like something had crawled in and died. Every normal step felt jarring and so he took to nearly tiptoeing up the stairs. As soon as his feet hit the cool stone, he dropped his boots and sagged his shoulders, shuffling into the shadowy interior of the temple.
From the doorway he could see the bed and the two forms in it. Lukos narrowed his eyes at her for a second before sighing and turning away. He did not have it in him to fight her at the moment. Let her have the bed, though he vowed internally that once he felt like death wasn’t imminent, they would have a conversation about sleeping arrangements.
Up against the wall just past the bed and a little behind it stood at tall, rolled up rug. This he kicked at until it fell in a heap, at which point he nudged it, encouraging it to unroll. Without a second’s thought about what she would think, he sank down on it, and lay there with his eyes tightly shut, facing the wall.
Years. He hadn’t drank like that in years and now he remembered why. Sleep did not descend on him the way it had done last night. It fled, leaving him feeling raw. There was a vague impression that strengthened into a memory that she’d been in the cabin last night. Obviously she had not stayed and had come up here.
“I suppose,” his voice was hoarse. “You were on the ship the whole time.” He waited for her to respond and then, with his face still to the wall he said, “I thought maybe you’d jumped off the cliffs. Or were turned into a bird.” The last part was said half joking but he turned his face into the carpet as the effort of trying to laugh only intensified the throbbing sensation in his head.
She started as the rolled rug hit the stone floor; sitting up in bed quickly and causing the cat to give an indignant grunt. She watched as he nudged it with his foot and then laid down atop it; clearly feeling the after effects after he'd drunk so much the night before. She leaned against one hand sleepily; wondering why he was sleeping on the floor when he'd climbed atop her to take his bed from her the night before.
She sank back down into the bed; not wanting to get up yet as it was quite comfortable compared to the straw bed on the ship. She didn't answer him when he asked if she'd been on the ship as it was obvious that she had been. But when he'd said he considered she may have jumped off the cliff or turned into a bird, she raised a brow; surprised he would be concerned at all. Then again, he'd told her unequivocally that she was worth a small fortune. If she'd jumped off a cliff, she would have robbed him of that.
She sighed and rolled over so her back faced him...but after a moment, she spoke, but not too loudly. "You should eat some fruit and drink water. It will help you to feel better." Were she another person, she may have helped him herself.. but he was perfectly capable of doing so on his own.
After that, it didn't matter what she did, she couldn't seem to get back to sleep. So she slid barefoot from the bed and padded over the floor where the servant girl had laid out another spread of delicious foods. Determined not to allow him to boss her around, or ask him permission, she plucked up an orange and a couple eggs to eat before padding out onto the front portico of the temple to look down at the village. Artemis followed her out and wrapped herself around Thalia's ankles; purring as she rubbed between her legs. She broke off a piece of the egg and bent down to feed it to the cat; looking out at the village as it bustled to life with women moving back and forth, and the men loading up the ship. After she'd finished her meager breakfast, she went back in and tied on her sandals before plucking up the cat. "I'll be down at the village if you need me.... you needn't search the cliffs.."
She smirked and slipped out the door to wander down to the path. She probably should have been more anxious walking into a village full of the pirates that took her captive, but she squared her shoulders, raised her chin, and marched in as if nothing was amiss. After all, everything was up for interpretation. They knew little better whether she could or could not be there... but they would definitely question her if she snuck around unsure of herself.
She approached one woman who seemed wary of her at first and asked if she knew who owned the cat, but she didn't and so Thalia moved on to another. When she came across a basket weaver, she complimented the woman on her work while tracing the dried grass it was made of. The woman found the compliment encouraging and they were able to start a conversation, all while Artemis squirmed in her arms.
The basket weaver called over another woman; happy that someone of such breeding would speak so nicely to her, and they were able to narrow down who the cat had been fed by. They walked her to another house and called out to another woman who informed her that she fed the cat, but that she had so many she couldn't keep track of them anymore and that Thalia was welcome to her. Thalia hugged the woman and thanked her for the cat and promised that at her first opportunity she would repay her.
By the time she'd left the village mid-day to wander back up to the temple, Artemis was running ahead of her; checking through the brush for things to eat and she'd had a basket of offerings the villagers gave her for her to try. Different foods and eccentricities she'd never seen before that she'd found interesting from the different cultures the women had been brought to the island from. She carried the basket with both hands wrapped around it into the temple and set it down on the table before fishing out a few candied treats. There were quite a few crates that had been removed from the temple, and she wondered if they'd been loaded onto the boat. It would mean that they may have been leaving soon. Sighing, she sat down on the bed. She still had yet to convince Lukos to take her home. And while she found the island to be charming and it's people resourceful and diverting, this wouldn't last. She needed to go back.
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She started as the rolled rug hit the stone floor; sitting up in bed quickly and causing the cat to give an indignant grunt. She watched as he nudged it with his foot and then laid down atop it; clearly feeling the after effects after he'd drunk so much the night before. She leaned against one hand sleepily; wondering why he was sleeping on the floor when he'd climbed atop her to take his bed from her the night before.
She sank back down into the bed; not wanting to get up yet as it was quite comfortable compared to the straw bed on the ship. She didn't answer him when he asked if she'd been on the ship as it was obvious that she had been. But when he'd said he considered she may have jumped off the cliff or turned into a bird, she raised a brow; surprised he would be concerned at all. Then again, he'd told her unequivocally that she was worth a small fortune. If she'd jumped off a cliff, she would have robbed him of that.
She sighed and rolled over so her back faced him...but after a moment, she spoke, but not too loudly. "You should eat some fruit and drink water. It will help you to feel better." Were she another person, she may have helped him herself.. but he was perfectly capable of doing so on his own.
After that, it didn't matter what she did, she couldn't seem to get back to sleep. So she slid barefoot from the bed and padded over the floor where the servant girl had laid out another spread of delicious foods. Determined not to allow him to boss her around, or ask him permission, she plucked up an orange and a couple eggs to eat before padding out onto the front portico of the temple to look down at the village. Artemis followed her out and wrapped herself around Thalia's ankles; purring as she rubbed between her legs. She broke off a piece of the egg and bent down to feed it to the cat; looking out at the village as it bustled to life with women moving back and forth, and the men loading up the ship. After she'd finished her meager breakfast, she went back in and tied on her sandals before plucking up the cat. "I'll be down at the village if you need me.... you needn't search the cliffs.."
She smirked and slipped out the door to wander down to the path. She probably should have been more anxious walking into a village full of the pirates that took her captive, but she squared her shoulders, raised her chin, and marched in as if nothing was amiss. After all, everything was up for interpretation. They knew little better whether she could or could not be there... but they would definitely question her if she snuck around unsure of herself.
She approached one woman who seemed wary of her at first and asked if she knew who owned the cat, but she didn't and so Thalia moved on to another. When she came across a basket weaver, she complimented the woman on her work while tracing the dried grass it was made of. The woman found the compliment encouraging and they were able to start a conversation, all while Artemis squirmed in her arms.
The basket weaver called over another woman; happy that someone of such breeding would speak so nicely to her, and they were able to narrow down who the cat had been fed by. They walked her to another house and called out to another woman who informed her that she fed the cat, but that she had so many she couldn't keep track of them anymore and that Thalia was welcome to her. Thalia hugged the woman and thanked her for the cat and promised that at her first opportunity she would repay her.
By the time she'd left the village mid-day to wander back up to the temple, Artemis was running ahead of her; checking through the brush for things to eat and she'd had a basket of offerings the villagers gave her for her to try. Different foods and eccentricities she'd never seen before that she'd found interesting from the different cultures the women had been brought to the island from. She carried the basket with both hands wrapped around it into the temple and set it down on the table before fishing out a few candied treats. There were quite a few crates that had been removed from the temple, and she wondered if they'd been loaded onto the boat. It would mean that they may have been leaving soon. Sighing, she sat down on the bed. She still had yet to convince Lukos to take her home. And while she found the island to be charming and it's people resourceful and diverting, this wouldn't last. She needed to go back.
She started as the rolled rug hit the stone floor; sitting up in bed quickly and causing the cat to give an indignant grunt. She watched as he nudged it with his foot and then laid down atop it; clearly feeling the after effects after he'd drunk so much the night before. She leaned against one hand sleepily; wondering why he was sleeping on the floor when he'd climbed atop her to take his bed from her the night before.
She sank back down into the bed; not wanting to get up yet as it was quite comfortable compared to the straw bed on the ship. She didn't answer him when he asked if she'd been on the ship as it was obvious that she had been. But when he'd said he considered she may have jumped off the cliff or turned into a bird, she raised a brow; surprised he would be concerned at all. Then again, he'd told her unequivocally that she was worth a small fortune. If she'd jumped off a cliff, she would have robbed him of that.
She sighed and rolled over so her back faced him...but after a moment, she spoke, but not too loudly. "You should eat some fruit and drink water. It will help you to feel better." Were she another person, she may have helped him herself.. but he was perfectly capable of doing so on his own.
After that, it didn't matter what she did, she couldn't seem to get back to sleep. So she slid barefoot from the bed and padded over the floor where the servant girl had laid out another spread of delicious foods. Determined not to allow him to boss her around, or ask him permission, she plucked up an orange and a couple eggs to eat before padding out onto the front portico of the temple to look down at the village. Artemis followed her out and wrapped herself around Thalia's ankles; purring as she rubbed between her legs. She broke off a piece of the egg and bent down to feed it to the cat; looking out at the village as it bustled to life with women moving back and forth, and the men loading up the ship. After she'd finished her meager breakfast, she went back in and tied on her sandals before plucking up the cat. "I'll be down at the village if you need me.... you needn't search the cliffs.."
She smirked and slipped out the door to wander down to the path. She probably should have been more anxious walking into a village full of the pirates that took her captive, but she squared her shoulders, raised her chin, and marched in as if nothing was amiss. After all, everything was up for interpretation. They knew little better whether she could or could not be there... but they would definitely question her if she snuck around unsure of herself.
She approached one woman who seemed wary of her at first and asked if she knew who owned the cat, but she didn't and so Thalia moved on to another. When she came across a basket weaver, she complimented the woman on her work while tracing the dried grass it was made of. The woman found the compliment encouraging and they were able to start a conversation, all while Artemis squirmed in her arms.
The basket weaver called over another woman; happy that someone of such breeding would speak so nicely to her, and they were able to narrow down who the cat had been fed by. They walked her to another house and called out to another woman who informed her that she fed the cat, but that she had so many she couldn't keep track of them anymore and that Thalia was welcome to her. Thalia hugged the woman and thanked her for the cat and promised that at her first opportunity she would repay her.
By the time she'd left the village mid-day to wander back up to the temple, Artemis was running ahead of her; checking through the brush for things to eat and she'd had a basket of offerings the villagers gave her for her to try. Different foods and eccentricities she'd never seen before that she'd found interesting from the different cultures the women had been brought to the island from. She carried the basket with both hands wrapped around it into the temple and set it down on the table before fishing out a few candied treats. There were quite a few crates that had been removed from the temple, and she wondered if they'd been loaded onto the boat. It would mean that they may have been leaving soon. Sighing, she sat down on the bed. She still had yet to convince Lukos to take her home. And while she found the island to be charming and it's people resourceful and diverting, this wouldn't last. She needed to go back.
He kept his back to her as she spoke in low, considerate tones, telling him he should drink and eat. She was right, of course. However, he did not feel equal to the task, at the moment. Aside from this, she was his slave. She would be the one to bring him these things.
When she shifted from the bed, he half smiled. There. At last she was beginning to understand her place. He listened as she moved to the table. The wooden dishes clunked together softly as she picked through and he found the will to turn over onto his back, holding out his hand and watching her. An orange would be perfect; the eggs? No.
Except that she did not bring it to him. Lukos turned onto his side and propped himself up on one arm, squinting at her back as she walked outside. Her back and shoulder were just visible from where he was but he could see her moving. The cat’s tail flicked into view and from the way she bent down, he could tell she was giving the damned cat food before she brought any to him.
If he felt less like dying, she’d have been cowering at him right now. Except no she wouldn’t. He sagged back onto the rug, fatigued already from the argument they weren’t even having. It didn’t seem to matter what he did to her or how hard he came down; she fought and clawed and refused to submit. A long sigh escaped him. At that moment, she moved back into the temple and he glanced at her, ready for her to at last serve her purpose.
Again, she defied him, acting as though she was free to do as she willed. He followed her with his eyes as she walked back over to the bed and tied on her sandals. A slow blink was all that met her airy declaration that she would be down at the village, should he require anything. And then she left.
Complete silence answered her. He lay there, his head throbbing, his stomach feeling only marginally better than it had been, and wondering at exactly which point he’d gone wrong with her. What did she mean by traipsing across his island? Did she do foolish things at home too? Oh. Yes. Of course she did. That was why she was here.
He did not have the energy or the will to go catch her and aside from that, he was alone at last. It took a few minutes, but he finally rose from the carpet and shuffled over to the table. The wine he did not touch but instead took the water and an orange, working on them both slowly. After he was sure his stomach was safe, he took a piece of flat bread but did not touch the eggs. Even the smell made an uncomfortable lump in his throat.
After eating, he went to the springs, washing off the feeling of death and came back feeling a little more like himself. He took a cluster of grapes and went out onto the steps, sitting there and watching the village below. Why wasn’t she scared out of her mind? He had been. He and the others taken with him years ago. The man who had captured them was an iron statue made animate. Cold and cruel, he’d actually killed one of the slave boys when the he had talked back once too often.
Lukos had never gone that far. It had worked though. For the rest of that voyage, and the ones after that he’d been forced to endure as one of the questionably lucky ones kept from the market, he’d never once crossed the old man. As much as Phaedra cursed him, as much as they all loathed him, they did not understand that he was not the worst that could happen.
His thoughts strayed away from the past when a slave girl became visible as she rounded a bend up the slope. She kept her eyes on the path and he made no attempt to speak to her. This was how it should be between him and Phaedra. He watched the slave girl with a little more interest than he ever had before, noting how she trembled slightly the closer she came to the temple, how fast she completed her work, how her steps quickened back down the hill.
He wanted to sleep but knew he couldn’t. Arktos and some of the crew would soon be here with the wagon. Standing slowly, he stretched his arms above his head, his eyes unwillingly sweeping the distant village below for some glimpse of black hair. It was too far. She would be nothing but an indistinct form from here.
Inside of an hour saw Arktos and the wagon trundling up the path. The faces of the men with him were tight and pale. Even Arktos, puffing and sweaty as he was, seemed wary of actually setting foot on the steps. Lukos did not want to dispel their fear either and had pushed out the trunks that were to be taken out onto the porch so that his men would not intrude into his private sanctuary.
He did not help the men load the trunks but watched as they were bundled down the hill. Nothing would go missing, he was sure. Bianor’s book saw to that. The old man was the most useful acquisition Lukos had ever made. And Phaedra was proving the most irritating. Looking out for her again, he still didn’t see her. With a fed up wave in the general direction of the village, he moved back inside, taking off his boots, and lying on the bed.
The day was still not as hot as it would be and the breeze that blew through the open door made him remember his fatigue. Slipping beneath the blanket, he pulled the pillow over his head to hide from the light and drifted off into a light sleep. He woke at the sound of her footsteps across the stone floor but didn’t move until he felt the bed sink a little as she sat down. Pulling the pillow off his head, he studied her profile for a moment. His eyes wandered to the basket she’d brought back and he sat up, frowning.
She looked to be in good enough spirits; obviously she had not been accosted. If she kept up like this, wandering wherever she pleased, speaking to whomever, and accepting gifts, he wouldn’t need to collar her. He eased back down, using his arms behind his head as a pillow and looking her over again with a different expression. It would be a shame to give her to someone else…
“As much as you claim not to belong to me, you don’t seem to mind the benefits,” the grim line of his mouth was not quite able to hide the amusement in the corners. The village women had given her quite a lot, from his perspective. He wondered if she would understand what he was getting at.
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He kept his back to her as she spoke in low, considerate tones, telling him he should drink and eat. She was right, of course. However, he did not feel equal to the task, at the moment. Aside from this, she was his slave. She would be the one to bring him these things.
When she shifted from the bed, he half smiled. There. At last she was beginning to understand her place. He listened as she moved to the table. The wooden dishes clunked together softly as she picked through and he found the will to turn over onto his back, holding out his hand and watching her. An orange would be perfect; the eggs? No.
Except that she did not bring it to him. Lukos turned onto his side and propped himself up on one arm, squinting at her back as she walked outside. Her back and shoulder were just visible from where he was but he could see her moving. The cat’s tail flicked into view and from the way she bent down, he could tell she was giving the damned cat food before she brought any to him.
If he felt less like dying, she’d have been cowering at him right now. Except no she wouldn’t. He sagged back onto the rug, fatigued already from the argument they weren’t even having. It didn’t seem to matter what he did to her or how hard he came down; she fought and clawed and refused to submit. A long sigh escaped him. At that moment, she moved back into the temple and he glanced at her, ready for her to at last serve her purpose.
Again, she defied him, acting as though she was free to do as she willed. He followed her with his eyes as she walked back over to the bed and tied on her sandals. A slow blink was all that met her airy declaration that she would be down at the village, should he require anything. And then she left.
Complete silence answered her. He lay there, his head throbbing, his stomach feeling only marginally better than it had been, and wondering at exactly which point he’d gone wrong with her. What did she mean by traipsing across his island? Did she do foolish things at home too? Oh. Yes. Of course she did. That was why she was here.
He did not have the energy or the will to go catch her and aside from that, he was alone at last. It took a few minutes, but he finally rose from the carpet and shuffled over to the table. The wine he did not touch but instead took the water and an orange, working on them both slowly. After he was sure his stomach was safe, he took a piece of flat bread but did not touch the eggs. Even the smell made an uncomfortable lump in his throat.
After eating, he went to the springs, washing off the feeling of death and came back feeling a little more like himself. He took a cluster of grapes and went out onto the steps, sitting there and watching the village below. Why wasn’t she scared out of her mind? He had been. He and the others taken with him years ago. The man who had captured them was an iron statue made animate. Cold and cruel, he’d actually killed one of the slave boys when the he had talked back once too often.
Lukos had never gone that far. It had worked though. For the rest of that voyage, and the ones after that he’d been forced to endure as one of the questionably lucky ones kept from the market, he’d never once crossed the old man. As much as Phaedra cursed him, as much as they all loathed him, they did not understand that he was not the worst that could happen.
His thoughts strayed away from the past when a slave girl became visible as she rounded a bend up the slope. She kept her eyes on the path and he made no attempt to speak to her. This was how it should be between him and Phaedra. He watched the slave girl with a little more interest than he ever had before, noting how she trembled slightly the closer she came to the temple, how fast she completed her work, how her steps quickened back down the hill.
He wanted to sleep but knew he couldn’t. Arktos and some of the crew would soon be here with the wagon. Standing slowly, he stretched his arms above his head, his eyes unwillingly sweeping the distant village below for some glimpse of black hair. It was too far. She would be nothing but an indistinct form from here.
Inside of an hour saw Arktos and the wagon trundling up the path. The faces of the men with him were tight and pale. Even Arktos, puffing and sweaty as he was, seemed wary of actually setting foot on the steps. Lukos did not want to dispel their fear either and had pushed out the trunks that were to be taken out onto the porch so that his men would not intrude into his private sanctuary.
He did not help the men load the trunks but watched as they were bundled down the hill. Nothing would go missing, he was sure. Bianor’s book saw to that. The old man was the most useful acquisition Lukos had ever made. And Phaedra was proving the most irritating. Looking out for her again, he still didn’t see her. With a fed up wave in the general direction of the village, he moved back inside, taking off his boots, and lying on the bed.
The day was still not as hot as it would be and the breeze that blew through the open door made him remember his fatigue. Slipping beneath the blanket, he pulled the pillow over his head to hide from the light and drifted off into a light sleep. He woke at the sound of her footsteps across the stone floor but didn’t move until he felt the bed sink a little as she sat down. Pulling the pillow off his head, he studied her profile for a moment. His eyes wandered to the basket she’d brought back and he sat up, frowning.
She looked to be in good enough spirits; obviously she had not been accosted. If she kept up like this, wandering wherever she pleased, speaking to whomever, and accepting gifts, he wouldn’t need to collar her. He eased back down, using his arms behind his head as a pillow and looking her over again with a different expression. It would be a shame to give her to someone else…
“As much as you claim not to belong to me, you don’t seem to mind the benefits,” the grim line of his mouth was not quite able to hide the amusement in the corners. The village women had given her quite a lot, from his perspective. He wondered if she would understand what he was getting at.
He kept his back to her as she spoke in low, considerate tones, telling him he should drink and eat. She was right, of course. However, he did not feel equal to the task, at the moment. Aside from this, she was his slave. She would be the one to bring him these things.
When she shifted from the bed, he half smiled. There. At last she was beginning to understand her place. He listened as she moved to the table. The wooden dishes clunked together softly as she picked through and he found the will to turn over onto his back, holding out his hand and watching her. An orange would be perfect; the eggs? No.
Except that she did not bring it to him. Lukos turned onto his side and propped himself up on one arm, squinting at her back as she walked outside. Her back and shoulder were just visible from where he was but he could see her moving. The cat’s tail flicked into view and from the way she bent down, he could tell she was giving the damned cat food before she brought any to him.
If he felt less like dying, she’d have been cowering at him right now. Except no she wouldn’t. He sagged back onto the rug, fatigued already from the argument they weren’t even having. It didn’t seem to matter what he did to her or how hard he came down; she fought and clawed and refused to submit. A long sigh escaped him. At that moment, she moved back into the temple and he glanced at her, ready for her to at last serve her purpose.
Again, she defied him, acting as though she was free to do as she willed. He followed her with his eyes as she walked back over to the bed and tied on her sandals. A slow blink was all that met her airy declaration that she would be down at the village, should he require anything. And then she left.
Complete silence answered her. He lay there, his head throbbing, his stomach feeling only marginally better than it had been, and wondering at exactly which point he’d gone wrong with her. What did she mean by traipsing across his island? Did she do foolish things at home too? Oh. Yes. Of course she did. That was why she was here.
He did not have the energy or the will to go catch her and aside from that, he was alone at last. It took a few minutes, but he finally rose from the carpet and shuffled over to the table. The wine he did not touch but instead took the water and an orange, working on them both slowly. After he was sure his stomach was safe, he took a piece of flat bread but did not touch the eggs. Even the smell made an uncomfortable lump in his throat.
After eating, he went to the springs, washing off the feeling of death and came back feeling a little more like himself. He took a cluster of grapes and went out onto the steps, sitting there and watching the village below. Why wasn’t she scared out of her mind? He had been. He and the others taken with him years ago. The man who had captured them was an iron statue made animate. Cold and cruel, he’d actually killed one of the slave boys when the he had talked back once too often.
Lukos had never gone that far. It had worked though. For the rest of that voyage, and the ones after that he’d been forced to endure as one of the questionably lucky ones kept from the market, he’d never once crossed the old man. As much as Phaedra cursed him, as much as they all loathed him, they did not understand that he was not the worst that could happen.
His thoughts strayed away from the past when a slave girl became visible as she rounded a bend up the slope. She kept her eyes on the path and he made no attempt to speak to her. This was how it should be between him and Phaedra. He watched the slave girl with a little more interest than he ever had before, noting how she trembled slightly the closer she came to the temple, how fast she completed her work, how her steps quickened back down the hill.
He wanted to sleep but knew he couldn’t. Arktos and some of the crew would soon be here with the wagon. Standing slowly, he stretched his arms above his head, his eyes unwillingly sweeping the distant village below for some glimpse of black hair. It was too far. She would be nothing but an indistinct form from here.
Inside of an hour saw Arktos and the wagon trundling up the path. The faces of the men with him were tight and pale. Even Arktos, puffing and sweaty as he was, seemed wary of actually setting foot on the steps. Lukos did not want to dispel their fear either and had pushed out the trunks that were to be taken out onto the porch so that his men would not intrude into his private sanctuary.
He did not help the men load the trunks but watched as they were bundled down the hill. Nothing would go missing, he was sure. Bianor’s book saw to that. The old man was the most useful acquisition Lukos had ever made. And Phaedra was proving the most irritating. Looking out for her again, he still didn’t see her. With a fed up wave in the general direction of the village, he moved back inside, taking off his boots, and lying on the bed.
The day was still not as hot as it would be and the breeze that blew through the open door made him remember his fatigue. Slipping beneath the blanket, he pulled the pillow over his head to hide from the light and drifted off into a light sleep. He woke at the sound of her footsteps across the stone floor but didn’t move until he felt the bed sink a little as she sat down. Pulling the pillow off his head, he studied her profile for a moment. His eyes wandered to the basket she’d brought back and he sat up, frowning.
She looked to be in good enough spirits; obviously she had not been accosted. If she kept up like this, wandering wherever she pleased, speaking to whomever, and accepting gifts, he wouldn’t need to collar her. He eased back down, using his arms behind his head as a pillow and looking her over again with a different expression. It would be a shame to give her to someone else…
“As much as you claim not to belong to me, you don’t seem to mind the benefits,” the grim line of his mouth was not quite able to hide the amusement in the corners. The village women had given her quite a lot, from his perspective. He wondered if she would understand what he was getting at.
As soon as he shifted in the bed and uncovered his face, she stood up quickly; having no desire to be in the same bed with him unless there was the threat of rats close. She popped a candied fig into her mouth and chewed it as she wandered away; kicking the cage as she replied to him. "If by benefits you mean, not sleeping in a ball inside of a cage? ...Yeah.. it's great.... have you been asleep all day?"
She went and sat on one of the crates that were left behind and unlaced her shoes; tugging them off so she could feel the cool stone of the temple floor beneath her teeth. Artemis wandered through with a 'mewl' and padded over to the bed. Hopping up, she stared at Lukos with wide grey eyes and then inched forward; sniffing him timidly; her white whiskers flicking back and forth. When she'd finished inspecting him, she wandered over to the bottom corner of the bed and pawed it a few times before curling up in a tight ball to crouch down and nap.
Thalia waved to all of the missing crates in the room. "Did you move them to the ship? When will you be leaving? Have you come to your senses yet and decided to take me home?" Wishful thinking, really. She should know better. But she wouldn't let him think she'd given up. She wasn't his. She wasn't going to be sold. She wasn't anybody's.
She stood and went back to the basket of gifts and unpacked a few things. "It's lovely to see that, despite your crew's lack of civility, the women in your village are very accommodating. They insisted I try all of this... and a woman named Frona told me to keep Artemis. ...The cat there." She motioned to the cat who had her chin tucked into her chest as she napped. "And another woman named Iole braided my hair for me." Iole must have gotten a bit carried away, as she'd woven branches from an olive tree into the knots. All of which could be taken out later, of course.
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This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
As soon as he shifted in the bed and uncovered his face, she stood up quickly; having no desire to be in the same bed with him unless there was the threat of rats close. She popped a candied fig into her mouth and chewed it as she wandered away; kicking the cage as she replied to him. "If by benefits you mean, not sleeping in a ball inside of a cage? ...Yeah.. it's great.... have you been asleep all day?"
She went and sat on one of the crates that were left behind and unlaced her shoes; tugging them off so she could feel the cool stone of the temple floor beneath her teeth. Artemis wandered through with a 'mewl' and padded over to the bed. Hopping up, she stared at Lukos with wide grey eyes and then inched forward; sniffing him timidly; her white whiskers flicking back and forth. When she'd finished inspecting him, she wandered over to the bottom corner of the bed and pawed it a few times before curling up in a tight ball to crouch down and nap.
Thalia waved to all of the missing crates in the room. "Did you move them to the ship? When will you be leaving? Have you come to your senses yet and decided to take me home?" Wishful thinking, really. She should know better. But she wouldn't let him think she'd given up. She wasn't his. She wasn't going to be sold. She wasn't anybody's.
She stood and went back to the basket of gifts and unpacked a few things. "It's lovely to see that, despite your crew's lack of civility, the women in your village are very accommodating. They insisted I try all of this... and a woman named Frona told me to keep Artemis. ...The cat there." She motioned to the cat who had her chin tucked into her chest as she napped. "And another woman named Iole braided my hair for me." Iole must have gotten a bit carried away, as she'd woven branches from an olive tree into the knots. All of which could be taken out later, of course.
As soon as he shifted in the bed and uncovered his face, she stood up quickly; having no desire to be in the same bed with him unless there was the threat of rats close. She popped a candied fig into her mouth and chewed it as she wandered away; kicking the cage as she replied to him. "If by benefits you mean, not sleeping in a ball inside of a cage? ...Yeah.. it's great.... have you been asleep all day?"
She went and sat on one of the crates that were left behind and unlaced her shoes; tugging them off so she could feel the cool stone of the temple floor beneath her teeth. Artemis wandered through with a 'mewl' and padded over to the bed. Hopping up, she stared at Lukos with wide grey eyes and then inched forward; sniffing him timidly; her white whiskers flicking back and forth. When she'd finished inspecting him, she wandered over to the bottom corner of the bed and pawed it a few times before curling up in a tight ball to crouch down and nap.
Thalia waved to all of the missing crates in the room. "Did you move them to the ship? When will you be leaving? Have you come to your senses yet and decided to take me home?" Wishful thinking, really. She should know better. But she wouldn't let him think she'd given up. She wasn't his. She wasn't going to be sold. She wasn't anybody's.
She stood and went back to the basket of gifts and unpacked a few things. "It's lovely to see that, despite your crew's lack of civility, the women in your village are very accommodating. They insisted I try all of this... and a woman named Frona told me to keep Artemis. ...The cat there." She motioned to the cat who had her chin tucked into her chest as she napped. "And another woman named Iole braided my hair for me." Iole must have gotten a bit carried away, as she'd woven branches from an olive tree into the knots. All of which could be taken out later, of course.
Lukos sat up as she left the bed, sliding to the edge where she had been. The further light sleep he’d taken had stolen away the last painful vestiges of last night’s stupidity. He followed her with his eyes as she backed away from him. A corner of his mouth turned up and he turned his attention to the grey blur that had hopped up into his peripheral vision. Mild surprise crossed his features. He held up his knuckles, letting the cat sniff them but she knew him. Flicking up her tail, she left him to settle on the end of the bed.
“No,” he said slowly in answer to her question of if he’d been asleep all day and turned his attention fully on Phaedra again. It was incredible to him that she was at ease enough to sit on a crate and remove her sandals. He stood and did as she had done, taking a fig from the table. His steps were the shadows of hers, though instead of moving past the cage, he leaned a shoulder against it. She gestured around her to the missing crates and chests, asking the obvious; if they’d been moved to the ship. Only a noncommittal shrug answered that question.
“When will you be leaving? Have you come to your senses yet and decided to take me home?"
When would he be leaving? As though she might be left behind? He smirked at the question as she rose from the crates and passed him, going back to the basket. Wherever she went, he followed, if not bodily, then his gaze. “Home.” He murmured the word contemptuously under his breath, watching her dig out what the village women had given her. At last he pushed away from the cage, slipping silently over to where she stood at the table, occupied with her things.
He stood just behind her as she spoke. She smelled like perfume and he realized that she must have found the springs. Fresh agitation surfaced. His eyes swept the chiton she wore, realizing it was different than the one he’d given her on the ship. So she’d gone through the trunks too. The material on this one was not near so fine as the one he’d captured her in but it was a good deal more elegant and becoming of a lady than the one he’d wanted her to wear before.
“Braiding hair,” he murmured pleasantly, placing the tip of his index finger on the fine hairs on her neck and trailing it down her spine as far as the chiton would allow. “Adopting a cat.” Lukos reached around her and clamped both hands on either side of the table, effectively locking her in place as he spoke beside her ear. “You don’t act like you want to go home.” A large portion of him wanted her to fight him again; to give one good reason to put her back in chains, perhaps even lock the collar back around her neck in a way that she would not be able to pry it off. A no less potent portion wanted something else from her but he would not do it. She, however, didn’t need to know she was in no danger of his taking her. Or at least, very little.
“When I was captured,” he dropped the lighter tone he’d had up to now. “I did not traipse across the ship, or order the captain around. I did not go through his things. Do you know why?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. His knuckles were white on the table. “I was kept wondering, hour to hour, if I would be tossed overboard. Or gutted for speaking above my station. You do not seem to appreciate the precariousness of your situation.”
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Lukos sat up as she left the bed, sliding to the edge where she had been. The further light sleep he’d taken had stolen away the last painful vestiges of last night’s stupidity. He followed her with his eyes as she backed away from him. A corner of his mouth turned up and he turned his attention to the grey blur that had hopped up into his peripheral vision. Mild surprise crossed his features. He held up his knuckles, letting the cat sniff them but she knew him. Flicking up her tail, she left him to settle on the end of the bed.
“No,” he said slowly in answer to her question of if he’d been asleep all day and turned his attention fully on Phaedra again. It was incredible to him that she was at ease enough to sit on a crate and remove her sandals. He stood and did as she had done, taking a fig from the table. His steps were the shadows of hers, though instead of moving past the cage, he leaned a shoulder against it. She gestured around her to the missing crates and chests, asking the obvious; if they’d been moved to the ship. Only a noncommittal shrug answered that question.
“When will you be leaving? Have you come to your senses yet and decided to take me home?"
When would he be leaving? As though she might be left behind? He smirked at the question as she rose from the crates and passed him, going back to the basket. Wherever she went, he followed, if not bodily, then his gaze. “Home.” He murmured the word contemptuously under his breath, watching her dig out what the village women had given her. At last he pushed away from the cage, slipping silently over to where she stood at the table, occupied with her things.
He stood just behind her as she spoke. She smelled like perfume and he realized that she must have found the springs. Fresh agitation surfaced. His eyes swept the chiton she wore, realizing it was different than the one he’d given her on the ship. So she’d gone through the trunks too. The material on this one was not near so fine as the one he’d captured her in but it was a good deal more elegant and becoming of a lady than the one he’d wanted her to wear before.
“Braiding hair,” he murmured pleasantly, placing the tip of his index finger on the fine hairs on her neck and trailing it down her spine as far as the chiton would allow. “Adopting a cat.” Lukos reached around her and clamped both hands on either side of the table, effectively locking her in place as he spoke beside her ear. “You don’t act like you want to go home.” A large portion of him wanted her to fight him again; to give one good reason to put her back in chains, perhaps even lock the collar back around her neck in a way that she would not be able to pry it off. A no less potent portion wanted something else from her but he would not do it. She, however, didn’t need to know she was in no danger of his taking her. Or at least, very little.
“When I was captured,” he dropped the lighter tone he’d had up to now. “I did not traipse across the ship, or order the captain around. I did not go through his things. Do you know why?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. His knuckles were white on the table. “I was kept wondering, hour to hour, if I would be tossed overboard. Or gutted for speaking above my station. You do not seem to appreciate the precariousness of your situation.”
Lukos sat up as she left the bed, sliding to the edge where she had been. The further light sleep he’d taken had stolen away the last painful vestiges of last night’s stupidity. He followed her with his eyes as she backed away from him. A corner of his mouth turned up and he turned his attention to the grey blur that had hopped up into his peripheral vision. Mild surprise crossed his features. He held up his knuckles, letting the cat sniff them but she knew him. Flicking up her tail, she left him to settle on the end of the bed.
“No,” he said slowly in answer to her question of if he’d been asleep all day and turned his attention fully on Phaedra again. It was incredible to him that she was at ease enough to sit on a crate and remove her sandals. He stood and did as she had done, taking a fig from the table. His steps were the shadows of hers, though instead of moving past the cage, he leaned a shoulder against it. She gestured around her to the missing crates and chests, asking the obvious; if they’d been moved to the ship. Only a noncommittal shrug answered that question.
“When will you be leaving? Have you come to your senses yet and decided to take me home?"
When would he be leaving? As though she might be left behind? He smirked at the question as she rose from the crates and passed him, going back to the basket. Wherever she went, he followed, if not bodily, then his gaze. “Home.” He murmured the word contemptuously under his breath, watching her dig out what the village women had given her. At last he pushed away from the cage, slipping silently over to where she stood at the table, occupied with her things.
He stood just behind her as she spoke. She smelled like perfume and he realized that she must have found the springs. Fresh agitation surfaced. His eyes swept the chiton she wore, realizing it was different than the one he’d given her on the ship. So she’d gone through the trunks too. The material on this one was not near so fine as the one he’d captured her in but it was a good deal more elegant and becoming of a lady than the one he’d wanted her to wear before.
“Braiding hair,” he murmured pleasantly, placing the tip of his index finger on the fine hairs on her neck and trailing it down her spine as far as the chiton would allow. “Adopting a cat.” Lukos reached around her and clamped both hands on either side of the table, effectively locking her in place as he spoke beside her ear. “You don’t act like you want to go home.” A large portion of him wanted her to fight him again; to give one good reason to put her back in chains, perhaps even lock the collar back around her neck in a way that she would not be able to pry it off. A no less potent portion wanted something else from her but he would not do it. She, however, didn’t need to know she was in no danger of his taking her. Or at least, very little.
“When I was captured,” he dropped the lighter tone he’d had up to now. “I did not traipse across the ship, or order the captain around. I did not go through his things. Do you know why?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. His knuckles were white on the table. “I was kept wondering, hour to hour, if I would be tossed overboard. Or gutted for speaking above my station. You do not seem to appreciate the precariousness of your situation.”
Two days away from Lukos and his prior acts of mercy dimmed her awareness of how easily his mood could shift. The smallest things seemed to set him off. If she'd had her blade, this would have been a non-issue...but toe to toe, he was larger and stronger than she was despite how much passion she fought with. That was apparent after their last encounter. But she'd grown tired of sitting inside the cabin on the ship. She'd needed the fresh air today; to walk in the village and speak to people who didn't think less of her. To feel the sun and smell the earth and climb the path up to the temple. To be left breathless by it. She missed training with her brother; the athleticism in it. The way her muscles burned after and how her heart raced. Thalia didn't do sedentary very well.
He stood from the bed and moved with her as she sat to remove her shoes; leaning against her broken cage before the action annoyed her and she moved to the table. He watched at first, but then followed as she unpacked the basket; stepping close. Determined not to give him the upper hand in letting him know he was unnerving her, she continued to speak as he stepped closer to her. His tone mocked her tale; what she'd told him of the day as his knuckle grazed the back of her neck. had been strategically placed over her shoulder by Iole. It was a bit rudimentary compared to how her own staff did the style, but it was a good effort. Her shoulders tensed as that knuckle traveled lower; between her shoulder blades and down her spine to her mid-back where the chiton's material pooled in a waterfall drape that was cinched by two silver broaches balanced precariously on her shoulders. Goosebumps chased his finger down her back and she grit her teeth. His hands slipped between her arms and gripped the table at her hips and she sucked in a breath as he told her she didn't act like she wanted to go home.
Setting down a shell necklace one of the women had gifted her, she slowly turned in his arms to face him; her hazel eyes finding his as he leaned over her. He was close.. too close. So close she had to lean back a bit to see him. When she set her hand back on the table, she set it atop his on accident before moving it to the side. She'd had her fair share of pushy men corner her in court before. Unfortunately, she couldn't always neutralize them in the way they deserved. Over time, she'd learned how to disarm them enough to get out of the corner.
A hand lifted to toy with the open fabric of the plain, oversized shirt he wore; her eyes staring down at them; watching their progress. "Lukos... " The way she said his name....like a caress of its own.. patient and sultry as she blinked thick lashes and looked up at him through them. Her hand moved lower and so did she; raising her chin to continue watching him as she sunk down slowly in the circle of his arms. "Trust me...." Her hands moved down his sides; caressing his torso beneath his shirt as her face lowered to his stomach; still, she watched him and her hands went to the waistline of his pants. "...There is nothing I want more...."
She ducked beneath his arm and stood up easily as she stepped away from him; tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she walked towards the front entrance; her back turned on him. If she turned to face him it would make her look afraid of him and she had no desire to allow him to think such a thing. His tone became menacing as he spoke to her; asking her if she knew why he didn't order the captain around or go through his things or walk about freely and she answered with an airy tone that belayed the mounting tension. "Because you weren't a noble who was wrongfully kidnapped?" She stepped out onto the front portico and crossed her arms in front of her chest; staring down at the ship as the crew continued to load goods onto it. It was still broad daylight out; the sun hadn't dipped more than halfway past it's center point. The night was still far away. "Nor you, Lukos.... Nor do you..."
She said it beneath her breath.. but the fact that her brother was a commander in the Athenian legion, and that her family was detrimentally close to King Midas meant that her absence would not be forgotten. They would search for her endlessly. And when they found him, he would die the death a pirate who steals from nobles deserves.
JD
Staff Team
JD
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This post was created by our staff team.
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Two days away from Lukos and his prior acts of mercy dimmed her awareness of how easily his mood could shift. The smallest things seemed to set him off. If she'd had her blade, this would have been a non-issue...but toe to toe, he was larger and stronger than she was despite how much passion she fought with. That was apparent after their last encounter. But she'd grown tired of sitting inside the cabin on the ship. She'd needed the fresh air today; to walk in the village and speak to people who didn't think less of her. To feel the sun and smell the earth and climb the path up to the temple. To be left breathless by it. She missed training with her brother; the athleticism in it. The way her muscles burned after and how her heart raced. Thalia didn't do sedentary very well.
He stood from the bed and moved with her as she sat to remove her shoes; leaning against her broken cage before the action annoyed her and she moved to the table. He watched at first, but then followed as she unpacked the basket; stepping close. Determined not to give him the upper hand in letting him know he was unnerving her, she continued to speak as he stepped closer to her. His tone mocked her tale; what she'd told him of the day as his knuckle grazed the back of her neck. had been strategically placed over her shoulder by Iole. It was a bit rudimentary compared to how her own staff did the style, but it was a good effort. Her shoulders tensed as that knuckle traveled lower; between her shoulder blades and down her spine to her mid-back where the chiton's material pooled in a waterfall drape that was cinched by two silver broaches balanced precariously on her shoulders. Goosebumps chased his finger down her back and she grit her teeth. His hands slipped between her arms and gripped the table at her hips and she sucked in a breath as he told her she didn't act like she wanted to go home.
Setting down a shell necklace one of the women had gifted her, she slowly turned in his arms to face him; her hazel eyes finding his as he leaned over her. He was close.. too close. So close she had to lean back a bit to see him. When she set her hand back on the table, she set it atop his on accident before moving it to the side. She'd had her fair share of pushy men corner her in court before. Unfortunately, she couldn't always neutralize them in the way they deserved. Over time, she'd learned how to disarm them enough to get out of the corner.
A hand lifted to toy with the open fabric of the plain, oversized shirt he wore; her eyes staring down at them; watching their progress. "Lukos... " The way she said his name....like a caress of its own.. patient and sultry as she blinked thick lashes and looked up at him through them. Her hand moved lower and so did she; raising her chin to continue watching him as she sunk down slowly in the circle of his arms. "Trust me...." Her hands moved down his sides; caressing his torso beneath his shirt as her face lowered to his stomach; still, she watched him and her hands went to the waistline of his pants. "...There is nothing I want more...."
She ducked beneath his arm and stood up easily as she stepped away from him; tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she walked towards the front entrance; her back turned on him. If she turned to face him it would make her look afraid of him and she had no desire to allow him to think such a thing. His tone became menacing as he spoke to her; asking her if she knew why he didn't order the captain around or go through his things or walk about freely and she answered with an airy tone that belayed the mounting tension. "Because you weren't a noble who was wrongfully kidnapped?" She stepped out onto the front portico and crossed her arms in front of her chest; staring down at the ship as the crew continued to load goods onto it. It was still broad daylight out; the sun hadn't dipped more than halfway past it's center point. The night was still far away. "Nor you, Lukos.... Nor do you..."
She said it beneath her breath.. but the fact that her brother was a commander in the Athenian legion, and that her family was detrimentally close to King Midas meant that her absence would not be forgotten. They would search for her endlessly. And when they found him, he would die the death a pirate who steals from nobles deserves.
Two days away from Lukos and his prior acts of mercy dimmed her awareness of how easily his mood could shift. The smallest things seemed to set him off. If she'd had her blade, this would have been a non-issue...but toe to toe, he was larger and stronger than she was despite how much passion she fought with. That was apparent after their last encounter. But she'd grown tired of sitting inside the cabin on the ship. She'd needed the fresh air today; to walk in the village and speak to people who didn't think less of her. To feel the sun and smell the earth and climb the path up to the temple. To be left breathless by it. She missed training with her brother; the athleticism in it. The way her muscles burned after and how her heart raced. Thalia didn't do sedentary very well.
He stood from the bed and moved with her as she sat to remove her shoes; leaning against her broken cage before the action annoyed her and she moved to the table. He watched at first, but then followed as she unpacked the basket; stepping close. Determined not to give him the upper hand in letting him know he was unnerving her, she continued to speak as he stepped closer to her. His tone mocked her tale; what she'd told him of the day as his knuckle grazed the back of her neck. had been strategically placed over her shoulder by Iole. It was a bit rudimentary compared to how her own staff did the style, but it was a good effort. Her shoulders tensed as that knuckle traveled lower; between her shoulder blades and down her spine to her mid-back where the chiton's material pooled in a waterfall drape that was cinched by two silver broaches balanced precariously on her shoulders. Goosebumps chased his finger down her back and she grit her teeth. His hands slipped between her arms and gripped the table at her hips and she sucked in a breath as he told her she didn't act like she wanted to go home.
Setting down a shell necklace one of the women had gifted her, she slowly turned in his arms to face him; her hazel eyes finding his as he leaned over her. He was close.. too close. So close she had to lean back a bit to see him. When she set her hand back on the table, she set it atop his on accident before moving it to the side. She'd had her fair share of pushy men corner her in court before. Unfortunately, she couldn't always neutralize them in the way they deserved. Over time, she'd learned how to disarm them enough to get out of the corner.
A hand lifted to toy with the open fabric of the plain, oversized shirt he wore; her eyes staring down at them; watching their progress. "Lukos... " The way she said his name....like a caress of its own.. patient and sultry as she blinked thick lashes and looked up at him through them. Her hand moved lower and so did she; raising her chin to continue watching him as she sunk down slowly in the circle of his arms. "Trust me...." Her hands moved down his sides; caressing his torso beneath his shirt as her face lowered to his stomach; still, she watched him and her hands went to the waistline of his pants. "...There is nothing I want more...."
She ducked beneath his arm and stood up easily as she stepped away from him; tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she walked towards the front entrance; her back turned on him. If she turned to face him it would make her look afraid of him and she had no desire to allow him to think such a thing. His tone became menacing as he spoke to her; asking her if she knew why he didn't order the captain around or go through his things or walk about freely and she answered with an airy tone that belayed the mounting tension. "Because you weren't a noble who was wrongfully kidnapped?" She stepped out onto the front portico and crossed her arms in front of her chest; staring down at the ship as the crew continued to load goods onto it. It was still broad daylight out; the sun hadn't dipped more than halfway past it's center point. The night was still far away. "Nor you, Lukos.... Nor do you..."
She said it beneath her breath.. but the fact that her brother was a commander in the Athenian legion, and that her family was detrimentally close to King Midas meant that her absence would not be forgotten. They would search for her endlessly. And when they found him, he would die the death a pirate who steals from nobles deserves.
He’d resisted the urge to slide his hand over her ribs and as she slowly turned, carefully so that they did not touch, he felt his pulse quicken. His eyes locked onto hers, tense, readying for her to lash out. She did not. Instead she leaned back, accidentally grazing his hand but amending her mistake quickly. Her hand came up and he nearly gripped her wrist but she moved slowly, teasing. Not in the aggressive manner he’d come to expect from her.
It was impossible to ignore the feeling of her hands as they slid over his body. He did not trust her name on his lips but he found himself unwilling to stop her as she lowered herself. His muscles tensed under her touch and still he did nothing but watch her, frozen, unable to focus. She was at his stomach, her breath hot through his shirt, her fingers at his waist. The white knuckled grip he kept on the table was almost painful.
All at once she slipped away. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, finally able to take a proper breath. His blood raced. His pupils were dilated and all he wanted as she walked away was to spin her back around, draw her with him back away from the door. The warning he gave her didn’t stop her. She simply kept sauntering maddeningly away, breezily insulting him again.
He pressed his fists against his stomach, watching her, half afraid to go anywhere near her. She wasn’t safe from either side of him at the moment. One part wanted to rip her off her feet and see that smug expression drop from her beautiful face. Another part wanted her so badly he could barely stand it. Of that, he was certain she knew. Though some part of her trusted him not to harm her seriously or else she would not have her back to him now.
His instinct was to stalk away and leave her alone completely to avoid any loss of control one way or the other but both admitted his weakness where she was concerned. That could no longer be indulged. The sun outlined her skin in brilliant gold and he had a sudden revelation. She was far, far too good for the slave market he’d planned on taking her to tomorrow. There was no jewelry on her body but he could imagine it.
Thought became action as he moved across the floor, sifting through a trunk until he came to what he was looking for. It was the work of a moment but his hands were full as he came back, hesitating for only a second as he looked down at her cat. His dark eyes traveled back to her and he clenched his jaw. Her cat. As though she’d owned it for more than a few hours. Laying out his treasures on the bed, he walked over to the portico.
“Clever,” he said from the doorway. “You’re right. I’m not a noble.” Leaning his shoulder on the doorway he let his eyes wander over her. After a moment he said, “Will you agree to a truce for the moment? I want to see something.” Stepping out, he slid his fingers gently over her arm before taking hold of her wrist and drawing her inside, back toward the bed.
He moved calmly, without hurry, with a gentleness he did not feel. Inside he was not yet done with her; there was no forgiveness of her teasing, the callous way she threw his own threats back at him. Yet he betrayed nothing, merely nuding her to sit on the bed as he sat beside her, reaching over her for the glittering pile and dropping it in her lap.
“Put them on,” he said, plucking out glittering bracelet. These things hailed from Egypt, where silver was held in higher esteem than gold, which was far less rare. He wanted to see the chain at her throat, the delicate earrings, her wrists bound in precious stones. There was a looking glass in the corner which he planned to take her to if she agreed to do as he asked.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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He’d resisted the urge to slide his hand over her ribs and as she slowly turned, carefully so that they did not touch, he felt his pulse quicken. His eyes locked onto hers, tense, readying for her to lash out. She did not. Instead she leaned back, accidentally grazing his hand but amending her mistake quickly. Her hand came up and he nearly gripped her wrist but she moved slowly, teasing. Not in the aggressive manner he’d come to expect from her.
It was impossible to ignore the feeling of her hands as they slid over his body. He did not trust her name on his lips but he found himself unwilling to stop her as she lowered herself. His muscles tensed under her touch and still he did nothing but watch her, frozen, unable to focus. She was at his stomach, her breath hot through his shirt, her fingers at his waist. The white knuckled grip he kept on the table was almost painful.
All at once she slipped away. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, finally able to take a proper breath. His blood raced. His pupils were dilated and all he wanted as she walked away was to spin her back around, draw her with him back away from the door. The warning he gave her didn’t stop her. She simply kept sauntering maddeningly away, breezily insulting him again.
He pressed his fists against his stomach, watching her, half afraid to go anywhere near her. She wasn’t safe from either side of him at the moment. One part wanted to rip her off her feet and see that smug expression drop from her beautiful face. Another part wanted her so badly he could barely stand it. Of that, he was certain she knew. Though some part of her trusted him not to harm her seriously or else she would not have her back to him now.
His instinct was to stalk away and leave her alone completely to avoid any loss of control one way or the other but both admitted his weakness where she was concerned. That could no longer be indulged. The sun outlined her skin in brilliant gold and he had a sudden revelation. She was far, far too good for the slave market he’d planned on taking her to tomorrow. There was no jewelry on her body but he could imagine it.
Thought became action as he moved across the floor, sifting through a trunk until he came to what he was looking for. It was the work of a moment but his hands were full as he came back, hesitating for only a second as he looked down at her cat. His dark eyes traveled back to her and he clenched his jaw. Her cat. As though she’d owned it for more than a few hours. Laying out his treasures on the bed, he walked over to the portico.
“Clever,” he said from the doorway. “You’re right. I’m not a noble.” Leaning his shoulder on the doorway he let his eyes wander over her. After a moment he said, “Will you agree to a truce for the moment? I want to see something.” Stepping out, he slid his fingers gently over her arm before taking hold of her wrist and drawing her inside, back toward the bed.
He moved calmly, without hurry, with a gentleness he did not feel. Inside he was not yet done with her; there was no forgiveness of her teasing, the callous way she threw his own threats back at him. Yet he betrayed nothing, merely nuding her to sit on the bed as he sat beside her, reaching over her for the glittering pile and dropping it in her lap.
“Put them on,” he said, plucking out glittering bracelet. These things hailed from Egypt, where silver was held in higher esteem than gold, which was far less rare. He wanted to see the chain at her throat, the delicate earrings, her wrists bound in precious stones. There was a looking glass in the corner which he planned to take her to if she agreed to do as he asked.
He’d resisted the urge to slide his hand over her ribs and as she slowly turned, carefully so that they did not touch, he felt his pulse quicken. His eyes locked onto hers, tense, readying for her to lash out. She did not. Instead she leaned back, accidentally grazing his hand but amending her mistake quickly. Her hand came up and he nearly gripped her wrist but she moved slowly, teasing. Not in the aggressive manner he’d come to expect from her.
It was impossible to ignore the feeling of her hands as they slid over his body. He did not trust her name on his lips but he found himself unwilling to stop her as she lowered herself. His muscles tensed under her touch and still he did nothing but watch her, frozen, unable to focus. She was at his stomach, her breath hot through his shirt, her fingers at his waist. The white knuckled grip he kept on the table was almost painful.
All at once she slipped away. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, finally able to take a proper breath. His blood raced. His pupils were dilated and all he wanted as she walked away was to spin her back around, draw her with him back away from the door. The warning he gave her didn’t stop her. She simply kept sauntering maddeningly away, breezily insulting him again.
He pressed his fists against his stomach, watching her, half afraid to go anywhere near her. She wasn’t safe from either side of him at the moment. One part wanted to rip her off her feet and see that smug expression drop from her beautiful face. Another part wanted her so badly he could barely stand it. Of that, he was certain she knew. Though some part of her trusted him not to harm her seriously or else she would not have her back to him now.
His instinct was to stalk away and leave her alone completely to avoid any loss of control one way or the other but both admitted his weakness where she was concerned. That could no longer be indulged. The sun outlined her skin in brilliant gold and he had a sudden revelation. She was far, far too good for the slave market he’d planned on taking her to tomorrow. There was no jewelry on her body but he could imagine it.
Thought became action as he moved across the floor, sifting through a trunk until he came to what he was looking for. It was the work of a moment but his hands were full as he came back, hesitating for only a second as he looked down at her cat. His dark eyes traveled back to her and he clenched his jaw. Her cat. As though she’d owned it for more than a few hours. Laying out his treasures on the bed, he walked over to the portico.
“Clever,” he said from the doorway. “You’re right. I’m not a noble.” Leaning his shoulder on the doorway he let his eyes wander over her. After a moment he said, “Will you agree to a truce for the moment? I want to see something.” Stepping out, he slid his fingers gently over her arm before taking hold of her wrist and drawing her inside, back toward the bed.
He moved calmly, without hurry, with a gentleness he did not feel. Inside he was not yet done with her; there was no forgiveness of her teasing, the callous way she threw his own threats back at him. Yet he betrayed nothing, merely nuding her to sit on the bed as he sat beside her, reaching over her for the glittering pile and dropping it in her lap.
“Put them on,” he said, plucking out glittering bracelet. These things hailed from Egypt, where silver was held in higher esteem than gold, which was far less rare. He wanted to see the chain at her throat, the delicate earrings, her wrists bound in precious stones. There was a looking glass in the corner which he planned to take her to if she agreed to do as he asked.
She knew it would work. As much as Lukos liked to believe he was different than other men....that he could somehow resist her for the sake of profit, in the end, they were really all the same. Dangle the mere idea of intercourse in front of them and they all devolved into baseless rutting fools. With just the temptation of more, she ducked out easily from his arms; leaving him to contemplate what had just happened and how he'd let himself fall prey to such an easy bait and switch technique. But he wasn't the first to fall for such a ruse and he wouldn't be the last.
She left him to contemplate life at the table and wandered outside. He left her for some time as she didn't look behind her to see what he did. She assumed he needed a moment to steady himself after what she'd done as her position and value dictated that there was nothing he could do to act upon her temptation... which she was growing accustomed to understand. She plucked a few wildflowers alongside the path. They were tropical and wild with thick stems and vibrant colors. Long ignored and overgrown, she was sure Lukos and those who served him did little to cultivate them in the years they occupied the island.
when he joined her outside and asked for a truce, she turned to look at him; her hands full of blooms. She pushed a lock of hair away from her forehead with the back of her wrist and sighed before nodding; walking back to the portico to join him. He ran his hand down her arm and took hold of her wrist before drawing her back inside. She stared at him suspiciously; sure he was up to no good as he'd never been this accommodating before. She set the flowers on the table and went to the bed where he'd laid out all of the jeweled pieces. He bade her to sit down and then reached over her; lifting up the pile of jewels and dropped them on her lap. Thalia stared down at them a bit dumbfounded. Emeralds and rubies; silver and gold.. they were all brilliant and amazing. Even someone as disinterested in jewelry as she was could appreciate their beauty. As he told her to put them on, she slowly took the a silver jeweled snake bracelet from him and looked it over before glancing at him. ".....Lukos..."
She was at a loss for words. Each piece was more intricate than the last. Gold cuffs lined with amethyst. Necklaces that would fall down the front of her chest; dangling precious stones from between her breasts. Twisted armbands. Jeweled rings and golden headbands. This small handful was more than she'd ever owned. It was extravagant. He bade her to put them on and she frowned; still skeptical as to why he would ever offer such things to her. "This is.. " She paused and plucked up the whole lot of it in her grasp and placed it back on the bed. She could see the appeal... how it would draw him to taking the pieces.. In her mind, she could see herself draped in glittering precious jewels, gold, and silver. But these pieces didn't belong to her. They didn't belong to him. And they definitely didn't belong to her. "too much... I can't.." She stood hesitantly and walked away from the bed and all he tempted her with. She plucked up Artemis, who gave a recalcitrant grunt at being woken and walked to the back of the temple to the springs. She didn't understand him. One moment he was holding her down while she fought him tooth and nail to force a dog collar around her throat, and the next he was blanketing her in precious jewels and begging her to wear them. She let the cat go in the caves and wandered around the pools to the back entrance where the path opened up to the wooded cliffs beyond. Had it been dark she may not have noticed how they opened up. She could have walked off the edge accidentally without even knowing. But as it was the middle of the day, she stopped and stared out over the vast sea below and beyond. How had she gotten here? In all the fantasies she'd had for her life, this had never been even a consideration. Trapped on an uncharted island with a band of pirates, taken as a slave:? Not even in her wildest dreams could she have contemplated this outcome.
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She knew it would work. As much as Lukos liked to believe he was different than other men....that he could somehow resist her for the sake of profit, in the end, they were really all the same. Dangle the mere idea of intercourse in front of them and they all devolved into baseless rutting fools. With just the temptation of more, she ducked out easily from his arms; leaving him to contemplate what had just happened and how he'd let himself fall prey to such an easy bait and switch technique. But he wasn't the first to fall for such a ruse and he wouldn't be the last.
She left him to contemplate life at the table and wandered outside. He left her for some time as she didn't look behind her to see what he did. She assumed he needed a moment to steady himself after what she'd done as her position and value dictated that there was nothing he could do to act upon her temptation... which she was growing accustomed to understand. She plucked a few wildflowers alongside the path. They were tropical and wild with thick stems and vibrant colors. Long ignored and overgrown, she was sure Lukos and those who served him did little to cultivate them in the years they occupied the island.
when he joined her outside and asked for a truce, she turned to look at him; her hands full of blooms. She pushed a lock of hair away from her forehead with the back of her wrist and sighed before nodding; walking back to the portico to join him. He ran his hand down her arm and took hold of her wrist before drawing her back inside. She stared at him suspiciously; sure he was up to no good as he'd never been this accommodating before. She set the flowers on the table and went to the bed where he'd laid out all of the jeweled pieces. He bade her to sit down and then reached over her; lifting up the pile of jewels and dropped them on her lap. Thalia stared down at them a bit dumbfounded. Emeralds and rubies; silver and gold.. they were all brilliant and amazing. Even someone as disinterested in jewelry as she was could appreciate their beauty. As he told her to put them on, she slowly took the a silver jeweled snake bracelet from him and looked it over before glancing at him. ".....Lukos..."
She was at a loss for words. Each piece was more intricate than the last. Gold cuffs lined with amethyst. Necklaces that would fall down the front of her chest; dangling precious stones from between her breasts. Twisted armbands. Jeweled rings and golden headbands. This small handful was more than she'd ever owned. It was extravagant. He bade her to put them on and she frowned; still skeptical as to why he would ever offer such things to her. "This is.. " She paused and plucked up the whole lot of it in her grasp and placed it back on the bed. She could see the appeal... how it would draw him to taking the pieces.. In her mind, she could see herself draped in glittering precious jewels, gold, and silver. But these pieces didn't belong to her. They didn't belong to him. And they definitely didn't belong to her. "too much... I can't.." She stood hesitantly and walked away from the bed and all he tempted her with. She plucked up Artemis, who gave a recalcitrant grunt at being woken and walked to the back of the temple to the springs. She didn't understand him. One moment he was holding her down while she fought him tooth and nail to force a dog collar around her throat, and the next he was blanketing her in precious jewels and begging her to wear them. She let the cat go in the caves and wandered around the pools to the back entrance where the path opened up to the wooded cliffs beyond. Had it been dark she may not have noticed how they opened up. She could have walked off the edge accidentally without even knowing. But as it was the middle of the day, she stopped and stared out over the vast sea below and beyond. How had she gotten here? In all the fantasies she'd had for her life, this had never been even a consideration. Trapped on an uncharted island with a band of pirates, taken as a slave:? Not even in her wildest dreams could she have contemplated this outcome.
She knew it would work. As much as Lukos liked to believe he was different than other men....that he could somehow resist her for the sake of profit, in the end, they were really all the same. Dangle the mere idea of intercourse in front of them and they all devolved into baseless rutting fools. With just the temptation of more, she ducked out easily from his arms; leaving him to contemplate what had just happened and how he'd let himself fall prey to such an easy bait and switch technique. But he wasn't the first to fall for such a ruse and he wouldn't be the last.
She left him to contemplate life at the table and wandered outside. He left her for some time as she didn't look behind her to see what he did. She assumed he needed a moment to steady himself after what she'd done as her position and value dictated that there was nothing he could do to act upon her temptation... which she was growing accustomed to understand. She plucked a few wildflowers alongside the path. They were tropical and wild with thick stems and vibrant colors. Long ignored and overgrown, she was sure Lukos and those who served him did little to cultivate them in the years they occupied the island.
when he joined her outside and asked for a truce, she turned to look at him; her hands full of blooms. She pushed a lock of hair away from her forehead with the back of her wrist and sighed before nodding; walking back to the portico to join him. He ran his hand down her arm and took hold of her wrist before drawing her back inside. She stared at him suspiciously; sure he was up to no good as he'd never been this accommodating before. She set the flowers on the table and went to the bed where he'd laid out all of the jeweled pieces. He bade her to sit down and then reached over her; lifting up the pile of jewels and dropped them on her lap. Thalia stared down at them a bit dumbfounded. Emeralds and rubies; silver and gold.. they were all brilliant and amazing. Even someone as disinterested in jewelry as she was could appreciate their beauty. As he told her to put them on, she slowly took the a silver jeweled snake bracelet from him and looked it over before glancing at him. ".....Lukos..."
She was at a loss for words. Each piece was more intricate than the last. Gold cuffs lined with amethyst. Necklaces that would fall down the front of her chest; dangling precious stones from between her breasts. Twisted armbands. Jeweled rings and golden headbands. This small handful was more than she'd ever owned. It was extravagant. He bade her to put them on and she frowned; still skeptical as to why he would ever offer such things to her. "This is.. " She paused and plucked up the whole lot of it in her grasp and placed it back on the bed. She could see the appeal... how it would draw him to taking the pieces.. In her mind, she could see herself draped in glittering precious jewels, gold, and silver. But these pieces didn't belong to her. They didn't belong to him. And they definitely didn't belong to her. "too much... I can't.." She stood hesitantly and walked away from the bed and all he tempted her with. She plucked up Artemis, who gave a recalcitrant grunt at being woken and walked to the back of the temple to the springs. She didn't understand him. One moment he was holding her down while she fought him tooth and nail to force a dog collar around her throat, and the next he was blanketing her in precious jewels and begging her to wear them. She let the cat go in the caves and wandered around the pools to the back entrance where the path opened up to the wooded cliffs beyond. Had it been dark she may not have noticed how they opened up. She could have walked off the edge accidentally without even knowing. But as it was the middle of the day, she stopped and stared out over the vast sea below and beyond. How had she gotten here? In all the fantasies she'd had for her life, this had never been even a consideration. Trapped on an uncharted island with a band of pirates, taken as a slave:? Not even in her wildest dreams could she have contemplated this outcome.
It was fascinating to observe the change in her expression as he dangled the bracelet, jeweled reflections dancing in her eyes. She took it and he tilted his head, waiting for her to immediately clasp it around her slender wrist but instead she stared at him. His name escaped her lips in a breathy whisper that made him straighten up from the sprawling posture of affected ease he’d had.
All at once she frowned and he saw what she was going to say before the words left her mouth. He sighed, dropping his gaze from her face to her hands and watched as she took the glittering pile off her lap and set it on the bed between them. There was regret there and it made a corner of his mouth twitch. So. She could be tempted. His predatory hunger had not changed or ceased, and it only tightened its grip on him as she stood irresolutely.
She grabbed the cat and moved through the temple toward the springs. He spared only enough time to grab one piece before following her; the shadow at her heels. Over her shoulder the cats eyes reflected the light they retreated from. The flicking tail was only just visible but he paid little attention to the animal. His eyes lingered on the exposed skin of her back, knowing exactly how smooth and soft it was now.
Moving over the path winding through the springs as though she’d been on it before, which he supposed she must have, he followed her until she came out on the cliffs. Though he’d had the nightmare of her throwing herself down to the rocks below, as he watched her now, there was no fear of its coming true. She did not move away as he walked up to her. The path here was stone worn smooth over time. No rocks cut into his bare feet and he stood beside her a moment, scanning the horizon.
“These were not meant to languish in a chest,” his voice was low but held no malice. He was looking down at the piece of jewelry he’d brought with him. A silver necklace fashioned into a twisting chain of sapphires. “You don’t have to keep it,” he murmured. It was almost unnatural feeling to be standing side by side, staring out at the same ocean. The relaxed manner he feigned was starting to wear thin.
Lukos moved behind her and reached around, letting the metal slide over the delicate bones of her chest before drawing it up where it came to a rest at the base of her throat. His eyes lingered on her neck and for a brief moment, as he clasped the necklace closed, he almost rested his chin in the curve of her shoulder. Instead, he traced her spine again, resisting the urge to do anything more.
“You’re an unusual person,” his fingertip was midway down her back. “I think it only fitting that you do not go to the market in Colchis.” Gripping her by the hips and spinning her around, keeping his hold on her, he let his eyes wander over her face as though he was touching her. “You are too used to finery.” His fist bunched in the fabric of her chiton. The best part of this place he had in mind is that it would keep her at an uncrossable distance. This woman was trouble and there was little point inviting more of it into his life, much less keeping her here against her will. She demonstrated too many times that she would not be cowed, she would not submit, she refused to break and he was not the man who cared enough to take the measures that would ensure her full cooperation.
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It was fascinating to observe the change in her expression as he dangled the bracelet, jeweled reflections dancing in her eyes. She took it and he tilted his head, waiting for her to immediately clasp it around her slender wrist but instead she stared at him. His name escaped her lips in a breathy whisper that made him straighten up from the sprawling posture of affected ease he’d had.
All at once she frowned and he saw what she was going to say before the words left her mouth. He sighed, dropping his gaze from her face to her hands and watched as she took the glittering pile off her lap and set it on the bed between them. There was regret there and it made a corner of his mouth twitch. So. She could be tempted. His predatory hunger had not changed or ceased, and it only tightened its grip on him as she stood irresolutely.
She grabbed the cat and moved through the temple toward the springs. He spared only enough time to grab one piece before following her; the shadow at her heels. Over her shoulder the cats eyes reflected the light they retreated from. The flicking tail was only just visible but he paid little attention to the animal. His eyes lingered on the exposed skin of her back, knowing exactly how smooth and soft it was now.
Moving over the path winding through the springs as though she’d been on it before, which he supposed she must have, he followed her until she came out on the cliffs. Though he’d had the nightmare of her throwing herself down to the rocks below, as he watched her now, there was no fear of its coming true. She did not move away as he walked up to her. The path here was stone worn smooth over time. No rocks cut into his bare feet and he stood beside her a moment, scanning the horizon.
“These were not meant to languish in a chest,” his voice was low but held no malice. He was looking down at the piece of jewelry he’d brought with him. A silver necklace fashioned into a twisting chain of sapphires. “You don’t have to keep it,” he murmured. It was almost unnatural feeling to be standing side by side, staring out at the same ocean. The relaxed manner he feigned was starting to wear thin.
Lukos moved behind her and reached around, letting the metal slide over the delicate bones of her chest before drawing it up where it came to a rest at the base of her throat. His eyes lingered on her neck and for a brief moment, as he clasped the necklace closed, he almost rested his chin in the curve of her shoulder. Instead, he traced her spine again, resisting the urge to do anything more.
“You’re an unusual person,” his fingertip was midway down her back. “I think it only fitting that you do not go to the market in Colchis.” Gripping her by the hips and spinning her around, keeping his hold on her, he let his eyes wander over her face as though he was touching her. “You are too used to finery.” His fist bunched in the fabric of her chiton. The best part of this place he had in mind is that it would keep her at an uncrossable distance. This woman was trouble and there was little point inviting more of it into his life, much less keeping her here against her will. She demonstrated too many times that she would not be cowed, she would not submit, she refused to break and he was not the man who cared enough to take the measures that would ensure her full cooperation.
It was fascinating to observe the change in her expression as he dangled the bracelet, jeweled reflections dancing in her eyes. She took it and he tilted his head, waiting for her to immediately clasp it around her slender wrist but instead she stared at him. His name escaped her lips in a breathy whisper that made him straighten up from the sprawling posture of affected ease he’d had.
All at once she frowned and he saw what she was going to say before the words left her mouth. He sighed, dropping his gaze from her face to her hands and watched as she took the glittering pile off her lap and set it on the bed between them. There was regret there and it made a corner of his mouth twitch. So. She could be tempted. His predatory hunger had not changed or ceased, and it only tightened its grip on him as she stood irresolutely.
She grabbed the cat and moved through the temple toward the springs. He spared only enough time to grab one piece before following her; the shadow at her heels. Over her shoulder the cats eyes reflected the light they retreated from. The flicking tail was only just visible but he paid little attention to the animal. His eyes lingered on the exposed skin of her back, knowing exactly how smooth and soft it was now.
Moving over the path winding through the springs as though she’d been on it before, which he supposed she must have, he followed her until she came out on the cliffs. Though he’d had the nightmare of her throwing herself down to the rocks below, as he watched her now, there was no fear of its coming true. She did not move away as he walked up to her. The path here was stone worn smooth over time. No rocks cut into his bare feet and he stood beside her a moment, scanning the horizon.
“These were not meant to languish in a chest,” his voice was low but held no malice. He was looking down at the piece of jewelry he’d brought with him. A silver necklace fashioned into a twisting chain of sapphires. “You don’t have to keep it,” he murmured. It was almost unnatural feeling to be standing side by side, staring out at the same ocean. The relaxed manner he feigned was starting to wear thin.
Lukos moved behind her and reached around, letting the metal slide over the delicate bones of her chest before drawing it up where it came to a rest at the base of her throat. His eyes lingered on her neck and for a brief moment, as he clasped the necklace closed, he almost rested his chin in the curve of her shoulder. Instead, he traced her spine again, resisting the urge to do anything more.
“You’re an unusual person,” his fingertip was midway down her back. “I think it only fitting that you do not go to the market in Colchis.” Gripping her by the hips and spinning her around, keeping his hold on her, he let his eyes wander over her face as though he was touching her. “You are too used to finery.” His fist bunched in the fabric of her chiton. The best part of this place he had in mind is that it would keep her at an uncrossable distance. This woman was trouble and there was little point inviting more of it into his life, much less keeping her here against her will. She demonstrated too many times that she would not be cowed, she would not submit, she refused to break and he was not the man who cared enough to take the measures that would ensure her full cooperation.
He followed her like a shadow; from the front of the temple to the back, anywhere she went it seemed that he was concerned that she might disappear again. So long as he saw her, she wouldn't fade into the mist as she'd done two days ago. He wouldn't have to search the island for her. When she'd plucked up Artemis, she'd gone for space; for the desire of freedom after whatever that display was back then, she'd needed it. Two days ago he'd thrown her to the ground and pinned her so he could place a collar on her throat; his eyes piercing and murderous as she fought against him. Today he was pinning her to tables and showering her in precious gems. He'd kidnapped her and thrown her in a cage after chaining her and bruising her to the point that her face was still grey and yellow from the force of his backhand. She didn't trust him and as far as she knew, he still had no desire to return her to where she belonged.
Even as she walked away, she heard the rustle of the precious metal as he fished through the various pieces and the padding of his feet as he followed her. She sighed but resigned herself to his company as she moved back outside to the cliffs. The view from the steep drop was beautiful. It stretched for miles at the highest point on the island. She could see distant islands on the horizon; hazy from the day's heat. She looked down as he showed her the necklace; telling her it didn't belong packed away and she frowned. Her fingers itched to trace the pear-shaped gems but she kept her hands folded in front of her. He told her she didn't need to keep it and then moved to her back to drape the piece around her neck. She could have fought him; grabbed the necklace and torn it from his hands. Instead, she lifted the main ornament; a blue sapphire lotus flower with a yellow sapphire center and stared at it as he clasped it behind her neck. His finger trailed down her spine again. She let the piece fall against her decolletage; deciding that she wouldn't deny him the one piece. He murmured to her about her uniqueness before turning her about by the hips. She folded her arms in front of her; fingering the delicate piece as he told her he wouldn't bring her to the market. a bit of a flutter ricocheted through her stomach and she stared up at him. "Will you take me home..?" She asked him softly, though her voice was firm. She wasn't so childish as to expect too much from him. She wasn't an overly optimistic person; more realistic in the placement of where she was at a time and nothing read in a way that meant she would see her family again anytime soon.
When he denied her query, she sighed and stepped out of his grasp. Stepping back around him to move down the hill; the gown caught in the breeze behind her as she descended back down the path and into the cave. She felt as if she was slowly chipping away at him; making progress in the right direction. But she didn't have enough time for that. If they were leaving tomorrow, she wouldn't have much more time after that to ensure her freedom as when they were on the ship, he was dedicated to the daily operations on board and then sleeping when he was finished. But he was unreasonable. He wouldn't discuss the prospect of letting her go right now no matter how hard she pushed and it seemed the more she pushed, the more he pushed back. the best idea she had was to find her blade and demand her release.... but even that seemed next to impossible.
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Staff Team
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He followed her like a shadow; from the front of the temple to the back, anywhere she went it seemed that he was concerned that she might disappear again. So long as he saw her, she wouldn't fade into the mist as she'd done two days ago. He wouldn't have to search the island for her. When she'd plucked up Artemis, she'd gone for space; for the desire of freedom after whatever that display was back then, she'd needed it. Two days ago he'd thrown her to the ground and pinned her so he could place a collar on her throat; his eyes piercing and murderous as she fought against him. Today he was pinning her to tables and showering her in precious gems. He'd kidnapped her and thrown her in a cage after chaining her and bruising her to the point that her face was still grey and yellow from the force of his backhand. She didn't trust him and as far as she knew, he still had no desire to return her to where she belonged.
Even as she walked away, she heard the rustle of the precious metal as he fished through the various pieces and the padding of his feet as he followed her. She sighed but resigned herself to his company as she moved back outside to the cliffs. The view from the steep drop was beautiful. It stretched for miles at the highest point on the island. She could see distant islands on the horizon; hazy from the day's heat. She looked down as he showed her the necklace; telling her it didn't belong packed away and she frowned. Her fingers itched to trace the pear-shaped gems but she kept her hands folded in front of her. He told her she didn't need to keep it and then moved to her back to drape the piece around her neck. She could have fought him; grabbed the necklace and torn it from his hands. Instead, she lifted the main ornament; a blue sapphire lotus flower with a yellow sapphire center and stared at it as he clasped it behind her neck. His finger trailed down her spine again. She let the piece fall against her decolletage; deciding that she wouldn't deny him the one piece. He murmured to her about her uniqueness before turning her about by the hips. She folded her arms in front of her; fingering the delicate piece as he told her he wouldn't bring her to the market. a bit of a flutter ricocheted through her stomach and she stared up at him. "Will you take me home..?" She asked him softly, though her voice was firm. She wasn't so childish as to expect too much from him. She wasn't an overly optimistic person; more realistic in the placement of where she was at a time and nothing read in a way that meant she would see her family again anytime soon.
When he denied her query, she sighed and stepped out of his grasp. Stepping back around him to move down the hill; the gown caught in the breeze behind her as she descended back down the path and into the cave. She felt as if she was slowly chipping away at him; making progress in the right direction. But she didn't have enough time for that. If they were leaving tomorrow, she wouldn't have much more time after that to ensure her freedom as when they were on the ship, he was dedicated to the daily operations on board and then sleeping when he was finished. But he was unreasonable. He wouldn't discuss the prospect of letting her go right now no matter how hard she pushed and it seemed the more she pushed, the more he pushed back. the best idea she had was to find her blade and demand her release.... but even that seemed next to impossible.
He followed her like a shadow; from the front of the temple to the back, anywhere she went it seemed that he was concerned that she might disappear again. So long as he saw her, she wouldn't fade into the mist as she'd done two days ago. He wouldn't have to search the island for her. When she'd plucked up Artemis, she'd gone for space; for the desire of freedom after whatever that display was back then, she'd needed it. Two days ago he'd thrown her to the ground and pinned her so he could place a collar on her throat; his eyes piercing and murderous as she fought against him. Today he was pinning her to tables and showering her in precious gems. He'd kidnapped her and thrown her in a cage after chaining her and bruising her to the point that her face was still grey and yellow from the force of his backhand. She didn't trust him and as far as she knew, he still had no desire to return her to where she belonged.
Even as she walked away, she heard the rustle of the precious metal as he fished through the various pieces and the padding of his feet as he followed her. She sighed but resigned herself to his company as she moved back outside to the cliffs. The view from the steep drop was beautiful. It stretched for miles at the highest point on the island. She could see distant islands on the horizon; hazy from the day's heat. She looked down as he showed her the necklace; telling her it didn't belong packed away and she frowned. Her fingers itched to trace the pear-shaped gems but she kept her hands folded in front of her. He told her she didn't need to keep it and then moved to her back to drape the piece around her neck. She could have fought him; grabbed the necklace and torn it from his hands. Instead, she lifted the main ornament; a blue sapphire lotus flower with a yellow sapphire center and stared at it as he clasped it behind her neck. His finger trailed down her spine again. She let the piece fall against her decolletage; deciding that she wouldn't deny him the one piece. He murmured to her about her uniqueness before turning her about by the hips. She folded her arms in front of her; fingering the delicate piece as he told her he wouldn't bring her to the market. a bit of a flutter ricocheted through her stomach and she stared up at him. "Will you take me home..?" She asked him softly, though her voice was firm. She wasn't so childish as to expect too much from him. She wasn't an overly optimistic person; more realistic in the placement of where she was at a time and nothing read in a way that meant she would see her family again anytime soon.
When he denied her query, she sighed and stepped out of his grasp. Stepping back around him to move down the hill; the gown caught in the breeze behind her as she descended back down the path and into the cave. She felt as if she was slowly chipping away at him; making progress in the right direction. But she didn't have enough time for that. If they were leaving tomorrow, she wouldn't have much more time after that to ensure her freedom as when they were on the ship, he was dedicated to the daily operations on board and then sleeping when he was finished. But he was unreasonable. He wouldn't discuss the prospect of letting her go right now no matter how hard she pushed and it seemed the more she pushed, the more he pushed back. the best idea she had was to find her blade and demand her release.... but even that seemed next to impossible.
“Will you bring me home?”
The question was music and it drew a heartless smile across his face. Of course she wasn’t going home. That notion had never entered his mind and never would. He hadn’t brought the necklace to be kind, or any of the other treasures. They were to remind her of what she was for; to be beautiful. He slowly shook his head and she sighed.
He let her slide out of his grip and made no move to touch her again as she stepped around him. The breeze toyed with the gauzy fabric of the gown. She was slowly weakening. Lukos stayed on the cliffs for a while. He sat down, hugging his knees to his chest, turning his face into the warm, west wind. Before, when he’d half convinced himself that he didn’t care if he broke her spirit or not, it was a lie.
There were too many conflicting things that he wanted from her and none of it really mattered. She would be gone in a few days. His thoughts turned from there to the ship and specifically the cabin. Likely she would insist on not sleeping on the floor again and he wasn’t sure that he would fight her on it. If she was not staying, was not to be his slave, then what did it matter what bad habits she picked up? That would be for Imbrasus to remedy.
He knew the man only a little and even that was more than he cared to. There were few people in the world that bothered him the way Imbrasus did but it wasn’t for his own sake. To him, the man was unfailingly polite. Lukos had sold to him only twice but each girl had fetched an amazingly high price. He’d stayed away from him for the last two years. If he was inclined to indulge in thoughts that made him wonder into which part of Hades he would be sitting for eternity, selling those two girls to Imbrasus was one of the things he was fairly certain would land him in the Fields of Punishment.
When the thought of her walking through Imbrasus’s gates didn’t give him the wicked thrill he’d assumed it would, he stood up to get away from the image. Instead he thought about the sack of gold drachma that would weigh heavy in his hand. That, he decided, was all that needed thinking about. Phaedra was responsible for her own fate. He would simply deliver her to it.
Evening soon descended but rather than in the temple, it found him down in the ship where she had slept the night before. He’d passed through the springs and the temple, leaving her to her basket of things. All he’d stopped for were his boots and his weapons, though he left the dagger under the mattress where it always sat. She did not know it was there and he saw no reason for her to find it.
Lukos had the remarkable ability to keep from dwelling on unpleasant topics. As soon as he’d decided to push Imbrasus from his mind, the peculiar feeling in his chest was gone. In the setting sun, he worked with Arktos and the other men as they loaded up the slaves back into their cages, getting them back aboard ship. Unlike the first night that they were captured, they seemed almost glad for a change of scenery. Each person looked about them as they were carried over the island paths but once on the ship, their faces fell again.
As before, he didn’t look them in the eye; merely treated them like they were cats in baskets. Setting them gently here and there, ensuring they had food and water, but not speaking to them. It wasn’t until full dark, when most of the men had gone back to the village to see their families one last time that he sat in his bunk, drinking alone. Unlike the other night, he did not drink to excess. Just enough to feel warm. He set the bottle down and reached under the bed for the bronze shackles.
All the other slaves were here. She should be too. He had the idea that if he came for her in the morning, she might resist. Slinging the chains over his shoulder, he left his cabin and began the trek up the hill. Her liberties had been extreme up to now. It was time that ended.
Phaedra wasn’t here for his amusement. She was not here to goad him, to fight him, and she certainly wasn’t here for his pleasure. She was bound for somewhere and someone else. It was time he started acting like it.
The moon was high by the time he stood at the base of the steps. The air was damp pressing against his exposed forearms and his neck. He situated the chains now so they wouldn’t clink as he walked. Above him, the temple was dark and he supposed her to be asleep. Slipping out of his boots, he silently ascended the steps, hovering in the doorway to give his eyes time to adjust in the darkness.
He could see her in the bed. Something stirred inside him as he moved closer. One arm draped carelessly above her head, visible even in the darkness. Her other arm lay protectively over her stomach. The sheets were tossed so that her thigh was wholly exposed. He stood just beside her now, his leg nearly touching hers at the edge.
For a moment, he had the insane idea of dropping the chains and climbing into bed with her, peeling the sheet back the rest of the way. That thought he shoved violently aside. This was not what he’d come for.
One shackle was open in his hand. He lowered himself silently until he was level with the hand on her stomach. It took some doing, but he shifted as quietly as the chains would allow, slipped the open cuff under her wrist, and pushed it closed with his thumb. It locked with a soft click.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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“Will you bring me home?”
The question was music and it drew a heartless smile across his face. Of course she wasn’t going home. That notion had never entered his mind and never would. He hadn’t brought the necklace to be kind, or any of the other treasures. They were to remind her of what she was for; to be beautiful. He slowly shook his head and she sighed.
He let her slide out of his grip and made no move to touch her again as she stepped around him. The breeze toyed with the gauzy fabric of the gown. She was slowly weakening. Lukos stayed on the cliffs for a while. He sat down, hugging his knees to his chest, turning his face into the warm, west wind. Before, when he’d half convinced himself that he didn’t care if he broke her spirit or not, it was a lie.
There were too many conflicting things that he wanted from her and none of it really mattered. She would be gone in a few days. His thoughts turned from there to the ship and specifically the cabin. Likely she would insist on not sleeping on the floor again and he wasn’t sure that he would fight her on it. If she was not staying, was not to be his slave, then what did it matter what bad habits she picked up? That would be for Imbrasus to remedy.
He knew the man only a little and even that was more than he cared to. There were few people in the world that bothered him the way Imbrasus did but it wasn’t for his own sake. To him, the man was unfailingly polite. Lukos had sold to him only twice but each girl had fetched an amazingly high price. He’d stayed away from him for the last two years. If he was inclined to indulge in thoughts that made him wonder into which part of Hades he would be sitting for eternity, selling those two girls to Imbrasus was one of the things he was fairly certain would land him in the Fields of Punishment.
When the thought of her walking through Imbrasus’s gates didn’t give him the wicked thrill he’d assumed it would, he stood up to get away from the image. Instead he thought about the sack of gold drachma that would weigh heavy in his hand. That, he decided, was all that needed thinking about. Phaedra was responsible for her own fate. He would simply deliver her to it.
Evening soon descended but rather than in the temple, it found him down in the ship where she had slept the night before. He’d passed through the springs and the temple, leaving her to her basket of things. All he’d stopped for were his boots and his weapons, though he left the dagger under the mattress where it always sat. She did not know it was there and he saw no reason for her to find it.
Lukos had the remarkable ability to keep from dwelling on unpleasant topics. As soon as he’d decided to push Imbrasus from his mind, the peculiar feeling in his chest was gone. In the setting sun, he worked with Arktos and the other men as they loaded up the slaves back into their cages, getting them back aboard ship. Unlike the first night that they were captured, they seemed almost glad for a change of scenery. Each person looked about them as they were carried over the island paths but once on the ship, their faces fell again.
As before, he didn’t look them in the eye; merely treated them like they were cats in baskets. Setting them gently here and there, ensuring they had food and water, but not speaking to them. It wasn’t until full dark, when most of the men had gone back to the village to see their families one last time that he sat in his bunk, drinking alone. Unlike the other night, he did not drink to excess. Just enough to feel warm. He set the bottle down and reached under the bed for the bronze shackles.
All the other slaves were here. She should be too. He had the idea that if he came for her in the morning, she might resist. Slinging the chains over his shoulder, he left his cabin and began the trek up the hill. Her liberties had been extreme up to now. It was time that ended.
Phaedra wasn’t here for his amusement. She was not here to goad him, to fight him, and she certainly wasn’t here for his pleasure. She was bound for somewhere and someone else. It was time he started acting like it.
The moon was high by the time he stood at the base of the steps. The air was damp pressing against his exposed forearms and his neck. He situated the chains now so they wouldn’t clink as he walked. Above him, the temple was dark and he supposed her to be asleep. Slipping out of his boots, he silently ascended the steps, hovering in the doorway to give his eyes time to adjust in the darkness.
He could see her in the bed. Something stirred inside him as he moved closer. One arm draped carelessly above her head, visible even in the darkness. Her other arm lay protectively over her stomach. The sheets were tossed so that her thigh was wholly exposed. He stood just beside her now, his leg nearly touching hers at the edge.
For a moment, he had the insane idea of dropping the chains and climbing into bed with her, peeling the sheet back the rest of the way. That thought he shoved violently aside. This was not what he’d come for.
One shackle was open in his hand. He lowered himself silently until he was level with the hand on her stomach. It took some doing, but he shifted as quietly as the chains would allow, slipped the open cuff under her wrist, and pushed it closed with his thumb. It locked with a soft click.
“Will you bring me home?”
The question was music and it drew a heartless smile across his face. Of course she wasn’t going home. That notion had never entered his mind and never would. He hadn’t brought the necklace to be kind, or any of the other treasures. They were to remind her of what she was for; to be beautiful. He slowly shook his head and she sighed.
He let her slide out of his grip and made no move to touch her again as she stepped around him. The breeze toyed with the gauzy fabric of the gown. She was slowly weakening. Lukos stayed on the cliffs for a while. He sat down, hugging his knees to his chest, turning his face into the warm, west wind. Before, when he’d half convinced himself that he didn’t care if he broke her spirit or not, it was a lie.
There were too many conflicting things that he wanted from her and none of it really mattered. She would be gone in a few days. His thoughts turned from there to the ship and specifically the cabin. Likely she would insist on not sleeping on the floor again and he wasn’t sure that he would fight her on it. If she was not staying, was not to be his slave, then what did it matter what bad habits she picked up? That would be for Imbrasus to remedy.
He knew the man only a little and even that was more than he cared to. There were few people in the world that bothered him the way Imbrasus did but it wasn’t for his own sake. To him, the man was unfailingly polite. Lukos had sold to him only twice but each girl had fetched an amazingly high price. He’d stayed away from him for the last two years. If he was inclined to indulge in thoughts that made him wonder into which part of Hades he would be sitting for eternity, selling those two girls to Imbrasus was one of the things he was fairly certain would land him in the Fields of Punishment.
When the thought of her walking through Imbrasus’s gates didn’t give him the wicked thrill he’d assumed it would, he stood up to get away from the image. Instead he thought about the sack of gold drachma that would weigh heavy in his hand. That, he decided, was all that needed thinking about. Phaedra was responsible for her own fate. He would simply deliver her to it.
Evening soon descended but rather than in the temple, it found him down in the ship where she had slept the night before. He’d passed through the springs and the temple, leaving her to her basket of things. All he’d stopped for were his boots and his weapons, though he left the dagger under the mattress where it always sat. She did not know it was there and he saw no reason for her to find it.
Lukos had the remarkable ability to keep from dwelling on unpleasant topics. As soon as he’d decided to push Imbrasus from his mind, the peculiar feeling in his chest was gone. In the setting sun, he worked with Arktos and the other men as they loaded up the slaves back into their cages, getting them back aboard ship. Unlike the first night that they were captured, they seemed almost glad for a change of scenery. Each person looked about them as they were carried over the island paths but once on the ship, their faces fell again.
As before, he didn’t look them in the eye; merely treated them like they were cats in baskets. Setting them gently here and there, ensuring they had food and water, but not speaking to them. It wasn’t until full dark, when most of the men had gone back to the village to see their families one last time that he sat in his bunk, drinking alone. Unlike the other night, he did not drink to excess. Just enough to feel warm. He set the bottle down and reached under the bed for the bronze shackles.
All the other slaves were here. She should be too. He had the idea that if he came for her in the morning, she might resist. Slinging the chains over his shoulder, he left his cabin and began the trek up the hill. Her liberties had been extreme up to now. It was time that ended.
Phaedra wasn’t here for his amusement. She was not here to goad him, to fight him, and she certainly wasn’t here for his pleasure. She was bound for somewhere and someone else. It was time he started acting like it.
The moon was high by the time he stood at the base of the steps. The air was damp pressing against his exposed forearms and his neck. He situated the chains now so they wouldn’t clink as he walked. Above him, the temple was dark and he supposed her to be asleep. Slipping out of his boots, he silently ascended the steps, hovering in the doorway to give his eyes time to adjust in the darkness.
He could see her in the bed. Something stirred inside him as he moved closer. One arm draped carelessly above her head, visible even in the darkness. Her other arm lay protectively over her stomach. The sheets were tossed so that her thigh was wholly exposed. He stood just beside her now, his leg nearly touching hers at the edge.
For a moment, he had the insane idea of dropping the chains and climbing into bed with her, peeling the sheet back the rest of the way. That thought he shoved violently aside. This was not what he’d come for.
One shackle was open in his hand. He lowered himself silently until he was level with the hand on her stomach. It took some doing, but he shifted as quietly as the chains would allow, slipped the open cuff under her wrist, and pushed it closed with his thumb. It locked with a soft click.
