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It was filled with straw instead of feathers and provided little comfort against the plank that constituted as a platform beneath it. And because of her bedmate, she still had to keep her arm folded beneath her head as he hogged the pillow.
But it was warmer. Even if he kept all the blankets to himself. In the damp inner room of the captains quarters, it was miserable when you were relegated to sleeping on the floor. It was only fractions better on the tiny bed. But as she'd hardly had a lick of sleep since she'd stepped foot on this godforsaken boat, she was tired enough to appreciate it.
Even with Lukos's back to her, he radiated heat and she would have slept soundly if he wasn't jostling around so much. Pinned between him and the wall, she finally felt like she wasn't going to roll off anywhere. She slept even better when he finally got up for the morning. Standing to dress, she sprawled out deliciously on his bed; curling her face into his pillow. It smelled of the salt and sea and rainwater from last night; a much preferable scent to that of the damp room and she purred as she settled in. After all, it wasn't as if she could do anything else. She was well aware that, while he may have begrudgingly given her free reign of his quarters, she did not have free reign of the boat. A fact he'd clarified the night before as she'd walked the length of the ship naked as a lark. She could manage well enough without him though. She'd sleep the majority of the morning as he readied the boat; finding it easier to ignore the pounding footsteps above deck when she was curled up in blankets. When she finally woke for the day, she kicked the chains she'd worn for two days beneath the bed. If she never had to see them again, it'd be too soon. She made his bed...in that, she draped the blanket over the top so it looked nicer, and she opened the small window on the back wall that faced the rear of the ship to let some of the stuffy air out of the room. Scurrying up onto the ledge, she tucked her arms beneath her and leaned out of the window so she could look down at the water below. Her feet dangled from the height, which made her feel rather childlike. A wake splayed out behind them as the boat cut through the water. She looked up and around and saw several islands dotting the horizon; something that wasn't uncommon for the region, but she still wondered where they were.
Her stomach grumbled painfully and she wondered if she'd get to eat today. But she figured she'd already been asking far too much of the captain's already frayed resolve... she would wait until he returned to ask for food instead of marching out to find him.
She enjoyed her place at the window the most. At least she could look out at the water; see what was behind them and feel the fresh air. It was still in the shade so she couldn't feel the sun on her face. It was there when she noticed land enveloping both sides of the boat; closer than the islands were. She grew anxious. Clearly, they were arriving at wherever they were supposed to be. She wished she had her shortsword. ...But she'd have to channel her father and Linos, her brother. She couldn't rely on striking first and speaking later, she would have to use charm and negotiate her way out of whatever scenario Lukos threw her into. Let someone buy her. She would triple the amount they paid if they returned her unharmed. That had to be worth considering even if Lukos wouldn't.
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It was filled with straw instead of feathers and provided little comfort against the plank that constituted as a platform beneath it. And because of her bedmate, she still had to keep her arm folded beneath her head as he hogged the pillow.
But it was warmer. Even if he kept all the blankets to himself. In the damp inner room of the captains quarters, it was miserable when you were relegated to sleeping on the floor. It was only fractions better on the tiny bed. But as she'd hardly had a lick of sleep since she'd stepped foot on this godforsaken boat, she was tired enough to appreciate it.
Even with Lukos's back to her, he radiated heat and she would have slept soundly if he wasn't jostling around so much. Pinned between him and the wall, she finally felt like she wasn't going to roll off anywhere. She slept even better when he finally got up for the morning. Standing to dress, she sprawled out deliciously on his bed; curling her face into his pillow. It smelled of the salt and sea and rainwater from last night; a much preferable scent to that of the damp room and she purred as she settled in. After all, it wasn't as if she could do anything else. She was well aware that, while he may have begrudgingly given her free reign of his quarters, she did not have free reign of the boat. A fact he'd clarified the night before as she'd walked the length of the ship naked as a lark. She could manage well enough without him though. She'd sleep the majority of the morning as he readied the boat; finding it easier to ignore the pounding footsteps above deck when she was curled up in blankets. When she finally woke for the day, she kicked the chains she'd worn for two days beneath the bed. If she never had to see them again, it'd be too soon. She made his bed...in that, she draped the blanket over the top so it looked nicer, and she opened the small window on the back wall that faced the rear of the ship to let some of the stuffy air out of the room. Scurrying up onto the ledge, she tucked her arms beneath her and leaned out of the window so she could look down at the water below. Her feet dangled from the height, which made her feel rather childlike. A wake splayed out behind them as the boat cut through the water. She looked up and around and saw several islands dotting the horizon; something that wasn't uncommon for the region, but she still wondered where they were.
Her stomach grumbled painfully and she wondered if she'd get to eat today. But she figured she'd already been asking far too much of the captain's already frayed resolve... she would wait until he returned to ask for food instead of marching out to find him.
She enjoyed her place at the window the most. At least she could look out at the water; see what was behind them and feel the fresh air. It was still in the shade so she couldn't feel the sun on her face. It was there when she noticed land enveloping both sides of the boat; closer than the islands were. She grew anxious. Clearly, they were arriving at wherever they were supposed to be. She wished she had her shortsword. ...But she'd have to channel her father and Linos, her brother. She couldn't rely on striking first and speaking later, she would have to use charm and negotiate her way out of whatever scenario Lukos threw her into. Let someone buy her. She would triple the amount they paid if they returned her unharmed. That had to be worth considering even if Lukos wouldn't.
@lukos,The bed was lumpy.
It was filled with straw instead of feathers and provided little comfort against the plank that constituted as a platform beneath it. And because of her bedmate, she still had to keep her arm folded beneath her head as he hogged the pillow.
But it was warmer. Even if he kept all the blankets to himself. In the damp inner room of the captains quarters, it was miserable when you were relegated to sleeping on the floor. It was only fractions better on the tiny bed. But as she'd hardly had a lick of sleep since she'd stepped foot on this godforsaken boat, she was tired enough to appreciate it.
Even with Lukos's back to her, he radiated heat and she would have slept soundly if he wasn't jostling around so much. Pinned between him and the wall, she finally felt like she wasn't going to roll off anywhere. She slept even better when he finally got up for the morning. Standing to dress, she sprawled out deliciously on his bed; curling her face into his pillow. It smelled of the salt and sea and rainwater from last night; a much preferable scent to that of the damp room and she purred as she settled in. After all, it wasn't as if she could do anything else. She was well aware that, while he may have begrudgingly given her free reign of his quarters, she did not have free reign of the boat. A fact he'd clarified the night before as she'd walked the length of the ship naked as a lark. She could manage well enough without him though. She'd sleep the majority of the morning as he readied the boat; finding it easier to ignore the pounding footsteps above deck when she was curled up in blankets. When she finally woke for the day, she kicked the chains she'd worn for two days beneath the bed. If she never had to see them again, it'd be too soon. She made his bed...in that, she draped the blanket over the top so it looked nicer, and she opened the small window on the back wall that faced the rear of the ship to let some of the stuffy air out of the room. Scurrying up onto the ledge, she tucked her arms beneath her and leaned out of the window so she could look down at the water below. Her feet dangled from the height, which made her feel rather childlike. A wake splayed out behind them as the boat cut through the water. She looked up and around and saw several islands dotting the horizon; something that wasn't uncommon for the region, but she still wondered where they were.
Her stomach grumbled painfully and she wondered if she'd get to eat today. But she figured she'd already been asking far too much of the captain's already frayed resolve... she would wait until he returned to ask for food instead of marching out to find him.
She enjoyed her place at the window the most. At least she could look out at the water; see what was behind them and feel the fresh air. It was still in the shade so she couldn't feel the sun on her face. It was there when she noticed land enveloping both sides of the boat; closer than the islands were. She grew anxious. Clearly, they were arriving at wherever they were supposed to be. She wished she had her shortsword. ...But she'd have to channel her father and Linos, her brother. She couldn't rely on striking first and speaking later, she would have to use charm and negotiate her way out of whatever scenario Lukos threw her into. Let someone buy her. She would triple the amount they paid if they returned her unharmed. That had to be worth considering even if Lukos wouldn't.
It was the heavy plodding of boots that woke him first. Not for a second had he forgotten she was there. The bed was too small for them not to touch and he found sleeping with another person again strange. She impeded his movements. In sleep, when he’d attempted to roll over, she was there to wake him up, shifting as he did, waking up in her turn when he forcefully rolled back over. They seemed to have kept each other on edge all night and so when he blinked into the gray haze of morning, he was resigned to the sleeplessness.
The second he stood up to dress, she spread her body across the whole of his bed. He looked down, something between anger and acceptance blooming deep in his chest. His fingers twitched at his side as he looked her over freely. Her eyes were closed and she didn’t seem to notice or care the way the chiton was not covering the top swell of her breasts overly well.
He balled his hand into a fist and stalked over to where he’d thrown his clothes, pulling them on and shoving his feet into his boots. Frustration gnawed at him and he threw a final glare at her as he left the room. Nobles. They were all the same. She’d take his bed first and if he kept her, which he would never do, she’d be captain of the ship next. The thought spurred him up the stairs.
Lukos stepped onto the deck ready for any opportunity to let his temper flare. He found an outlet almost immediately in Bianor. The old man stood next to the railing, staring off across the water. Stalking forward, Lukos rolled his shoulders, knowing the scribe would not be ready for a rapid fire interrogation. Here he was stymied.
Bianor, it seemed, did not want a repeat performance of two days ago and was able to answer every question with prompt precision. Lukos was further agitated when Arktos also proved in too high of spirits to be bullied. The crew swarmed around him, resisting his black mood and tending to their duties with a fervor and vigor that only came when they neared home.
As the first of the islands came into view, even he felt the anger start to drain out of him like water leaking from an old skein. He was slow to change his mood completely but by the time they’d fully entered the Hydra’s Teeth island chain, he was as excited as any of them. They were bound for the only piece of land that mattered.
The oarsmen slowed the ship to that she was better able to navigate the waters. Steep cliffs rose up sharply, casting great shadows on either side as they approached a narrow inlet. Lukos stood at the helm, eyes intent on the next bend. Suddenly they were thrust into blinding sunlight, coasting into a wide lagoon ringed with trees. Beyond the trees, just catching the sun’s rays sat a white limestone temple. Its columns had once been painted a brilliant crimson with blue scrollwork along the temple’s edge. It was obvious from the lack of paint and the worn faces of the god statues outside that this temple’s purpose of worship had long passed.
The space, which at one time must have been peaceful, looked to have been turned into a ship boneyard. A derelict war ship sat half submerged in water and half on the short ring of white beach. Its bow was in splinters as though something massive had crashed into it and then drug it here to let it rot. Smaller ships were dotted about, most in various states of disrepair while a few were outright gutted - stripped of their timbers and forgotten.
With care, the ship glided past her less fortunate sisters to take her place in the slip at the end of dock which curled around the lagoon in a crescent of mossy clapboards. Arktos stood on the middle deck, hands on his hips, waiting for the gangway to be lowered. He half turned and looked up at Lukos who gave him a curt nod. At that, he stumped to the end of the cages and flipped back the seal skin tarp, revealing the wooden poles still lashed together. These they affixed to the cages for easy transport off the ship, two men to a cage.
Lukos and Bianor stood supervising until Bianor opened his book and slid his finger down the long column until he came to a nameless slave. He tapped the blank space at raised his eyebrows at the captain who crossed his arms over his chest and turned his attention to the slaves being offloaded. Oh yes. How he’d managed to look over her absence was chalked up to lack of sleep.
“Do you think the temple will do for our noble woman?” Lukos asked thoughtfully.
“The temple?” Bianor frowned, eyeing the building as it looked down on them from its place midway up the island. Lukos too glanced at it. In its center was an impossibly large entranceway, which, shadowed by the light filtering all around its exterior, made the temple appear to have a gaping maw.
With a self satisfied smile, Lukos nodded. Yes. The temple. It was a place of shadows and no living creature, animal or human seemed to want to go near it. He thought it would do nicely. “Have Arktos put her back in her cage. She’s in no danger for now,” Lukos said as he started down the steps, bringing him down to the middeck. Bianor leaned over the railing and shouted down just before Lukos reached the gangway that would take him down to the docks.
“Did you learn her name yet?” the scribe asked. Lukos turned and eyed him, knowing how much the man could not stand a blank space in his book.
“No.” He turned and followed two crewmen who were transporting Cilla’s cage down the gangway, his thoughts turning from the slave woman to more important matters of off loading cargo. This would take him the better part of the day and he would not see any of the slaves until closer to nightfall.
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It was the heavy plodding of boots that woke him first. Not for a second had he forgotten she was there. The bed was too small for them not to touch and he found sleeping with another person again strange. She impeded his movements. In sleep, when he’d attempted to roll over, she was there to wake him up, shifting as he did, waking up in her turn when he forcefully rolled back over. They seemed to have kept each other on edge all night and so when he blinked into the gray haze of morning, he was resigned to the sleeplessness.
The second he stood up to dress, she spread her body across the whole of his bed. He looked down, something between anger and acceptance blooming deep in his chest. His fingers twitched at his side as he looked her over freely. Her eyes were closed and she didn’t seem to notice or care the way the chiton was not covering the top swell of her breasts overly well.
He balled his hand into a fist and stalked over to where he’d thrown his clothes, pulling them on and shoving his feet into his boots. Frustration gnawed at him and he threw a final glare at her as he left the room. Nobles. They were all the same. She’d take his bed first and if he kept her, which he would never do, she’d be captain of the ship next. The thought spurred him up the stairs.
Lukos stepped onto the deck ready for any opportunity to let his temper flare. He found an outlet almost immediately in Bianor. The old man stood next to the railing, staring off across the water. Stalking forward, Lukos rolled his shoulders, knowing the scribe would not be ready for a rapid fire interrogation. Here he was stymied.
Bianor, it seemed, did not want a repeat performance of two days ago and was able to answer every question with prompt precision. Lukos was further agitated when Arktos also proved in too high of spirits to be bullied. The crew swarmed around him, resisting his black mood and tending to their duties with a fervor and vigor that only came when they neared home.
As the first of the islands came into view, even he felt the anger start to drain out of him like water leaking from an old skein. He was slow to change his mood completely but by the time they’d fully entered the Hydra’s Teeth island chain, he was as excited as any of them. They were bound for the only piece of land that mattered.
The oarsmen slowed the ship to that she was better able to navigate the waters. Steep cliffs rose up sharply, casting great shadows on either side as they approached a narrow inlet. Lukos stood at the helm, eyes intent on the next bend. Suddenly they were thrust into blinding sunlight, coasting into a wide lagoon ringed with trees. Beyond the trees, just catching the sun’s rays sat a white limestone temple. Its columns had once been painted a brilliant crimson with blue scrollwork along the temple’s edge. It was obvious from the lack of paint and the worn faces of the god statues outside that this temple’s purpose of worship had long passed.
The space, which at one time must have been peaceful, looked to have been turned into a ship boneyard. A derelict war ship sat half submerged in water and half on the short ring of white beach. Its bow was in splinters as though something massive had crashed into it and then drug it here to let it rot. Smaller ships were dotted about, most in various states of disrepair while a few were outright gutted - stripped of their timbers and forgotten.
With care, the ship glided past her less fortunate sisters to take her place in the slip at the end of dock which curled around the lagoon in a crescent of mossy clapboards. Arktos stood on the middle deck, hands on his hips, waiting for the gangway to be lowered. He half turned and looked up at Lukos who gave him a curt nod. At that, he stumped to the end of the cages and flipped back the seal skin tarp, revealing the wooden poles still lashed together. These they affixed to the cages for easy transport off the ship, two men to a cage.
Lukos and Bianor stood supervising until Bianor opened his book and slid his finger down the long column until he came to a nameless slave. He tapped the blank space at raised his eyebrows at the captain who crossed his arms over his chest and turned his attention to the slaves being offloaded. Oh yes. How he’d managed to look over her absence was chalked up to lack of sleep.
“Do you think the temple will do for our noble woman?” Lukos asked thoughtfully.
“The temple?” Bianor frowned, eyeing the building as it looked down on them from its place midway up the island. Lukos too glanced at it. In its center was an impossibly large entranceway, which, shadowed by the light filtering all around its exterior, made the temple appear to have a gaping maw.
With a self satisfied smile, Lukos nodded. Yes. The temple. It was a place of shadows and no living creature, animal or human seemed to want to go near it. He thought it would do nicely. “Have Arktos put her back in her cage. She’s in no danger for now,” Lukos said as he started down the steps, bringing him down to the middeck. Bianor leaned over the railing and shouted down just before Lukos reached the gangway that would take him down to the docks.
“Did you learn her name yet?” the scribe asked. Lukos turned and eyed him, knowing how much the man could not stand a blank space in his book.
“No.” He turned and followed two crewmen who were transporting Cilla’s cage down the gangway, his thoughts turning from the slave woman to more important matters of off loading cargo. This would take him the better part of the day and he would not see any of the slaves until closer to nightfall.
It was the heavy plodding of boots that woke him first. Not for a second had he forgotten she was there. The bed was too small for them not to touch and he found sleeping with another person again strange. She impeded his movements. In sleep, when he’d attempted to roll over, she was there to wake him up, shifting as he did, waking up in her turn when he forcefully rolled back over. They seemed to have kept each other on edge all night and so when he blinked into the gray haze of morning, he was resigned to the sleeplessness.
The second he stood up to dress, she spread her body across the whole of his bed. He looked down, something between anger and acceptance blooming deep in his chest. His fingers twitched at his side as he looked her over freely. Her eyes were closed and she didn’t seem to notice or care the way the chiton was not covering the top swell of her breasts overly well.
He balled his hand into a fist and stalked over to where he’d thrown his clothes, pulling them on and shoving his feet into his boots. Frustration gnawed at him and he threw a final glare at her as he left the room. Nobles. They were all the same. She’d take his bed first and if he kept her, which he would never do, she’d be captain of the ship next. The thought spurred him up the stairs.
Lukos stepped onto the deck ready for any opportunity to let his temper flare. He found an outlet almost immediately in Bianor. The old man stood next to the railing, staring off across the water. Stalking forward, Lukos rolled his shoulders, knowing the scribe would not be ready for a rapid fire interrogation. Here he was stymied.
Bianor, it seemed, did not want a repeat performance of two days ago and was able to answer every question with prompt precision. Lukos was further agitated when Arktos also proved in too high of spirits to be bullied. The crew swarmed around him, resisting his black mood and tending to their duties with a fervor and vigor that only came when they neared home.
As the first of the islands came into view, even he felt the anger start to drain out of him like water leaking from an old skein. He was slow to change his mood completely but by the time they’d fully entered the Hydra’s Teeth island chain, he was as excited as any of them. They were bound for the only piece of land that mattered.
The oarsmen slowed the ship to that she was better able to navigate the waters. Steep cliffs rose up sharply, casting great shadows on either side as they approached a narrow inlet. Lukos stood at the helm, eyes intent on the next bend. Suddenly they were thrust into blinding sunlight, coasting into a wide lagoon ringed with trees. Beyond the trees, just catching the sun’s rays sat a white limestone temple. Its columns had once been painted a brilliant crimson with blue scrollwork along the temple’s edge. It was obvious from the lack of paint and the worn faces of the god statues outside that this temple’s purpose of worship had long passed.
The space, which at one time must have been peaceful, looked to have been turned into a ship boneyard. A derelict war ship sat half submerged in water and half on the short ring of white beach. Its bow was in splinters as though something massive had crashed into it and then drug it here to let it rot. Smaller ships were dotted about, most in various states of disrepair while a few were outright gutted - stripped of their timbers and forgotten.
With care, the ship glided past her less fortunate sisters to take her place in the slip at the end of dock which curled around the lagoon in a crescent of mossy clapboards. Arktos stood on the middle deck, hands on his hips, waiting for the gangway to be lowered. He half turned and looked up at Lukos who gave him a curt nod. At that, he stumped to the end of the cages and flipped back the seal skin tarp, revealing the wooden poles still lashed together. These they affixed to the cages for easy transport off the ship, two men to a cage.
Lukos and Bianor stood supervising until Bianor opened his book and slid his finger down the long column until he came to a nameless slave. He tapped the blank space at raised his eyebrows at the captain who crossed his arms over his chest and turned his attention to the slaves being offloaded. Oh yes. How he’d managed to look over her absence was chalked up to lack of sleep.
“Do you think the temple will do for our noble woman?” Lukos asked thoughtfully.
“The temple?” Bianor frowned, eyeing the building as it looked down on them from its place midway up the island. Lukos too glanced at it. In its center was an impossibly large entranceway, which, shadowed by the light filtering all around its exterior, made the temple appear to have a gaping maw.
With a self satisfied smile, Lukos nodded. Yes. The temple. It was a place of shadows and no living creature, animal or human seemed to want to go near it. He thought it would do nicely. “Have Arktos put her back in her cage. She’s in no danger for now,” Lukos said as he started down the steps, bringing him down to the middeck. Bianor leaned over the railing and shouted down just before Lukos reached the gangway that would take him down to the docks.
“Did you learn her name yet?” the scribe asked. Lukos turned and eyed him, knowing how much the man could not stand a blank space in his book.
“No.” He turned and followed two crewmen who were transporting Cilla’s cage down the gangway, his thoughts turning from the slave woman to more important matters of off loading cargo. This would take him the better part of the day and he would not see any of the slaves until closer to nightfall.
Thalia dangled from the window as they glided into the port; watching the trees slowly fade to cleared out patches of land where rudimentary houses were pieced together. There were small docs and boats tied to them intermittently along the shoreline; some in serious disrepair, and a few fishing vessels. The cliffs rose steeply out of the water and there were crags of rocks jutting out from the water; no doubt making navigation precarious. She saw people wandering along well-traveled paths carrying earthen pots and baskets and gulls sung in the air; following the ship in search of any free meals. It was most definitely not a main port of fair, and thus... not necessarily where they would sell slaves. ...Unless there was more to see at the front of the ship..
The acetone turned into port and she had a view of the islands that the village faced out to. Above deck, the sound of footfalls hurried back and forth; voices rose giving orders and the boat slowed. She looked down into the water which was crystal clear; the wake behind the boat all but died off as they drifted up to the dock to tie off. She waited for Lukos to come to get her; slipping down from her place at the window and sitting on the bed attempting to ignore the gnawing pain in her stomach. But it wasn't Lukos that came for her; it was his henchman, Arktos. Immediately she bristled as he looked at the wall for the chains to lock her up with. Clenching her jaw, she hoped he wouldn't notice them beneath the bed. "...Where's your captain?" Arktos glared at her and crossed the room to take her arm. "He has more important things to tend to right now. Come." Thalia considered fighting him; pulling away. But she gave an exasperated sigh. "I can walk, you know.. I've been doing it for years...I'm really rather good at it." Arktos didn't look at her as he spoke. "Didn't learn how to shut yer trap, did you.."
Thalia tugged her arm away as he pulled her towards the stairs. "I can climb stairs too. Where do you think I'm going to go?" She climbed the stairs with him close behind her; only because they were only fit for one person at a time. As soon as he stepped on deck, he took her arm again and pulled her over to an empty cage. Thalia saw it and immediately dug in her heels. "You've GOT to be kidding me. I thought this was settled! Where is the Captain?" Captain.. that's all she had.. because as of yet, he still hadn't told her his name. ...Then again, she hadn't exactly told him hers, either." "Captain's busy. ...Now you can either get in easy, or get in hard. Can't promise you won't be injured if you decide to fight me. Either way you're goin' in.."
Everything in her wanted to fight him. For the principle of it. To show all of them that she wasn't broken; that she wouldn't accept what they were doing for her. Even if she ended up hurt, it would be worth the battle scars. ...But ultimately, it was a fruitless fight. She'd only end up hurt, and there were bigger battles to fight later... battles that she shouldn't be broken and bruised for.
Arktos reached for her and she jumped out of his reach as she spoke. "FINE. ...Fine.. I'll get in.. " The idea of sitting in a cage like some kind of animal again repulsed her. So much she was glad she hadn't eaten anything even though she was starving. She gave a long-suffering whine before stepping to the cage and lifting a leg to climb in. She sat down slowly; her face contorted in disgust and crossed her arms as she leaned back on one of the barred walls. Arktos shut the top and locked it unceremoniously before walking away.
It took some time of her sitting on the deck; sulking and waiting to see Lukos walk by so she could register her complaint, before Arktos and another crew member came with a couple posts and slid them into rings on the side of the cage and lifted her up. She wrapped her fingers around the bars for balance and tried to think of it like her carriage at home...except.. much smaller and primitive... and... infuriating. They carried her off the deck, and down the gangplank... to the dock, and set her down like cargo before walking away. She crossed her arms again; growing more annoyed; all but forgotten about as the boat continued to be unloaded. About an hour later, Arktos and the other crew member returned and lifted up her cage again. She leaned back so she could look at Arktos as he carried her from behind. "So is this it? Is this where you try to sell me?"
He didn't answer.
"How much do you think I'm worth...if you were to guess....?"
Nothing.
"You're charming, has anyone ever told you that? Tall, brooding and quiet. I'm sure no woman can resist you. especially when you throw them over their shoulder and don't take no for an answer..."
"Keep runnin' your mouth and I'll show you how irresistible I am.."
Thalia gave a "HA!" before continuing. "Got you to talk. ....Are threats the only way you know how to converse? Usually, a lady enjoys more polite conversation. The weather. Art. music.." They were venturing up a hill but she wasn't paying attention; having too much fun poking the bear, so to speak. "Are you married?" Arktos gave an exasperated roll of his eyes. "No? ...I can't see why.. ...You keep charming the ladies like you do you should find someone in no time.." Arktos glared at her and shook his head. "No wonder the captain has been in such a foul mood the past few days. You're annoying as hell.." Thalia gave a horrified gasp. "Arktos.. that is no way to speak to a lady..." But she smirked; enjoying the fact that she could get under his skin just as well as she could Lukos and even her brothers.
Arktos refused to speak or even look at her after that; no matter how much goading she did, so she finally gave up as they climbed well-worn stone steps that looked down at the village below. She turned to look at where they were going and saw the remnants of an old temple. The tint was fading off its grand columns and the marble statues out front identifying who the temple was dedicated to were dull and worn down from years of weather. It couldn't still be in use.. at least not as a temple.
They carried her into the cool interior. Walls lined the outside, and the interior was one large open area with rooms and old doors towards the back of the structure. Arktos and the other crew member set her down in the middle of the room. Around her were some finer pieces of furniture; a large bed with disheveled linens and crates piled atop each other. Material and other items leaned against other boxes and casks, and there were a few rolled up rugs. Like someone was trying to fashion it as a home, but didn't have enough time or care to continue doing anything with it. With all the doors that lined the walls closed, the interior was rather dark; only slivers of light peaked in along the thresholds. When the two men turned to leave, Thalia crawled to the edge of the cage. "Wait.. you aren't just going to...LEAVE me like this, are you?? At least let me out.." Arktos gave a grunt and followed the other crew member out without a word; shutting the door behind him with a bang that echoed off the walls; throwing the room into complete darkness save those small slivers of light.
She clenched her jaw and leaned back on the cage; crossing her arms over her chest. Did they leave her to rot in a room full of collectibles? Effectively becoming storage?? And where were all the other slaves?? Why weren't they being stored here as well?? Whatever the case, being relegated to chattel again didn't sit well with her. Apparently, she hadn't made herself clear enough with Lukos. ...And if there were any mice in here, she swore she would bend steel to get out.
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Thalia dangled from the window as they glided into the port; watching the trees slowly fade to cleared out patches of land where rudimentary houses were pieced together. There were small docs and boats tied to them intermittently along the shoreline; some in serious disrepair, and a few fishing vessels. The cliffs rose steeply out of the water and there were crags of rocks jutting out from the water; no doubt making navigation precarious. She saw people wandering along well-traveled paths carrying earthen pots and baskets and gulls sung in the air; following the ship in search of any free meals. It was most definitely not a main port of fair, and thus... not necessarily where they would sell slaves. ...Unless there was more to see at the front of the ship..
The acetone turned into port and she had a view of the islands that the village faced out to. Above deck, the sound of footfalls hurried back and forth; voices rose giving orders and the boat slowed. She looked down into the water which was crystal clear; the wake behind the boat all but died off as they drifted up to the dock to tie off. She waited for Lukos to come to get her; slipping down from her place at the window and sitting on the bed attempting to ignore the gnawing pain in her stomach. But it wasn't Lukos that came for her; it was his henchman, Arktos. Immediately she bristled as he looked at the wall for the chains to lock her up with. Clenching her jaw, she hoped he wouldn't notice them beneath the bed. "...Where's your captain?" Arktos glared at her and crossed the room to take her arm. "He has more important things to tend to right now. Come." Thalia considered fighting him; pulling away. But she gave an exasperated sigh. "I can walk, you know.. I've been doing it for years...I'm really rather good at it." Arktos didn't look at her as he spoke. "Didn't learn how to shut yer trap, did you.."
Thalia tugged her arm away as he pulled her towards the stairs. "I can climb stairs too. Where do you think I'm going to go?" She climbed the stairs with him close behind her; only because they were only fit for one person at a time. As soon as he stepped on deck, he took her arm again and pulled her over to an empty cage. Thalia saw it and immediately dug in her heels. "You've GOT to be kidding me. I thought this was settled! Where is the Captain?" Captain.. that's all she had.. because as of yet, he still hadn't told her his name. ...Then again, she hadn't exactly told him hers, either." "Captain's busy. ...Now you can either get in easy, or get in hard. Can't promise you won't be injured if you decide to fight me. Either way you're goin' in.."
Everything in her wanted to fight him. For the principle of it. To show all of them that she wasn't broken; that she wouldn't accept what they were doing for her. Even if she ended up hurt, it would be worth the battle scars. ...But ultimately, it was a fruitless fight. She'd only end up hurt, and there were bigger battles to fight later... battles that she shouldn't be broken and bruised for.
Arktos reached for her and she jumped out of his reach as she spoke. "FINE. ...Fine.. I'll get in.. " The idea of sitting in a cage like some kind of animal again repulsed her. So much she was glad she hadn't eaten anything even though she was starving. She gave a long-suffering whine before stepping to the cage and lifting a leg to climb in. She sat down slowly; her face contorted in disgust and crossed her arms as she leaned back on one of the barred walls. Arktos shut the top and locked it unceremoniously before walking away.
It took some time of her sitting on the deck; sulking and waiting to see Lukos walk by so she could register her complaint, before Arktos and another crew member came with a couple posts and slid them into rings on the side of the cage and lifted her up. She wrapped her fingers around the bars for balance and tried to think of it like her carriage at home...except.. much smaller and primitive... and... infuriating. They carried her off the deck, and down the gangplank... to the dock, and set her down like cargo before walking away. She crossed her arms again; growing more annoyed; all but forgotten about as the boat continued to be unloaded. About an hour later, Arktos and the other crew member returned and lifted up her cage again. She leaned back so she could look at Arktos as he carried her from behind. "So is this it? Is this where you try to sell me?"
He didn't answer.
"How much do you think I'm worth...if you were to guess....?"
Nothing.
"You're charming, has anyone ever told you that? Tall, brooding and quiet. I'm sure no woman can resist you. especially when you throw them over their shoulder and don't take no for an answer..."
"Keep runnin' your mouth and I'll show you how irresistible I am.."
Thalia gave a "HA!" before continuing. "Got you to talk. ....Are threats the only way you know how to converse? Usually, a lady enjoys more polite conversation. The weather. Art. music.." They were venturing up a hill but she wasn't paying attention; having too much fun poking the bear, so to speak. "Are you married?" Arktos gave an exasperated roll of his eyes. "No? ...I can't see why.. ...You keep charming the ladies like you do you should find someone in no time.." Arktos glared at her and shook his head. "No wonder the captain has been in such a foul mood the past few days. You're annoying as hell.." Thalia gave a horrified gasp. "Arktos.. that is no way to speak to a lady..." But she smirked; enjoying the fact that she could get under his skin just as well as she could Lukos and even her brothers.
Arktos refused to speak or even look at her after that; no matter how much goading she did, so she finally gave up as they climbed well-worn stone steps that looked down at the village below. She turned to look at where they were going and saw the remnants of an old temple. The tint was fading off its grand columns and the marble statues out front identifying who the temple was dedicated to were dull and worn down from years of weather. It couldn't still be in use.. at least not as a temple.
They carried her into the cool interior. Walls lined the outside, and the interior was one large open area with rooms and old doors towards the back of the structure. Arktos and the other crew member set her down in the middle of the room. Around her were some finer pieces of furniture; a large bed with disheveled linens and crates piled atop each other. Material and other items leaned against other boxes and casks, and there were a few rolled up rugs. Like someone was trying to fashion it as a home, but didn't have enough time or care to continue doing anything with it. With all the doors that lined the walls closed, the interior was rather dark; only slivers of light peaked in along the thresholds. When the two men turned to leave, Thalia crawled to the edge of the cage. "Wait.. you aren't just going to...LEAVE me like this, are you?? At least let me out.." Arktos gave a grunt and followed the other crew member out without a word; shutting the door behind him with a bang that echoed off the walls; throwing the room into complete darkness save those small slivers of light.
She clenched her jaw and leaned back on the cage; crossing her arms over her chest. Did they leave her to rot in a room full of collectibles? Effectively becoming storage?? And where were all the other slaves?? Why weren't they being stored here as well?? Whatever the case, being relegated to chattel again didn't sit well with her. Apparently, she hadn't made herself clear enough with Lukos. ...And if there were any mice in here, she swore she would bend steel to get out.
Thalia dangled from the window as they glided into the port; watching the trees slowly fade to cleared out patches of land where rudimentary houses were pieced together. There were small docs and boats tied to them intermittently along the shoreline; some in serious disrepair, and a few fishing vessels. The cliffs rose steeply out of the water and there were crags of rocks jutting out from the water; no doubt making navigation precarious. She saw people wandering along well-traveled paths carrying earthen pots and baskets and gulls sung in the air; following the ship in search of any free meals. It was most definitely not a main port of fair, and thus... not necessarily where they would sell slaves. ...Unless there was more to see at the front of the ship..
The acetone turned into port and she had a view of the islands that the village faced out to. Above deck, the sound of footfalls hurried back and forth; voices rose giving orders and the boat slowed. She looked down into the water which was crystal clear; the wake behind the boat all but died off as they drifted up to the dock to tie off. She waited for Lukos to come to get her; slipping down from her place at the window and sitting on the bed attempting to ignore the gnawing pain in her stomach. But it wasn't Lukos that came for her; it was his henchman, Arktos. Immediately she bristled as he looked at the wall for the chains to lock her up with. Clenching her jaw, she hoped he wouldn't notice them beneath the bed. "...Where's your captain?" Arktos glared at her and crossed the room to take her arm. "He has more important things to tend to right now. Come." Thalia considered fighting him; pulling away. But she gave an exasperated sigh. "I can walk, you know.. I've been doing it for years...I'm really rather good at it." Arktos didn't look at her as he spoke. "Didn't learn how to shut yer trap, did you.."
Thalia tugged her arm away as he pulled her towards the stairs. "I can climb stairs too. Where do you think I'm going to go?" She climbed the stairs with him close behind her; only because they were only fit for one person at a time. As soon as he stepped on deck, he took her arm again and pulled her over to an empty cage. Thalia saw it and immediately dug in her heels. "You've GOT to be kidding me. I thought this was settled! Where is the Captain?" Captain.. that's all she had.. because as of yet, he still hadn't told her his name. ...Then again, she hadn't exactly told him hers, either." "Captain's busy. ...Now you can either get in easy, or get in hard. Can't promise you won't be injured if you decide to fight me. Either way you're goin' in.."
Everything in her wanted to fight him. For the principle of it. To show all of them that she wasn't broken; that she wouldn't accept what they were doing for her. Even if she ended up hurt, it would be worth the battle scars. ...But ultimately, it was a fruitless fight. She'd only end up hurt, and there were bigger battles to fight later... battles that she shouldn't be broken and bruised for.
Arktos reached for her and she jumped out of his reach as she spoke. "FINE. ...Fine.. I'll get in.. " The idea of sitting in a cage like some kind of animal again repulsed her. So much she was glad she hadn't eaten anything even though she was starving. She gave a long-suffering whine before stepping to the cage and lifting a leg to climb in. She sat down slowly; her face contorted in disgust and crossed her arms as she leaned back on one of the barred walls. Arktos shut the top and locked it unceremoniously before walking away.
It took some time of her sitting on the deck; sulking and waiting to see Lukos walk by so she could register her complaint, before Arktos and another crew member came with a couple posts and slid them into rings on the side of the cage and lifted her up. She wrapped her fingers around the bars for balance and tried to think of it like her carriage at home...except.. much smaller and primitive... and... infuriating. They carried her off the deck, and down the gangplank... to the dock, and set her down like cargo before walking away. She crossed her arms again; growing more annoyed; all but forgotten about as the boat continued to be unloaded. About an hour later, Arktos and the other crew member returned and lifted up her cage again. She leaned back so she could look at Arktos as he carried her from behind. "So is this it? Is this where you try to sell me?"
He didn't answer.
"How much do you think I'm worth...if you were to guess....?"
Nothing.
"You're charming, has anyone ever told you that? Tall, brooding and quiet. I'm sure no woman can resist you. especially when you throw them over their shoulder and don't take no for an answer..."
"Keep runnin' your mouth and I'll show you how irresistible I am.."
Thalia gave a "HA!" before continuing. "Got you to talk. ....Are threats the only way you know how to converse? Usually, a lady enjoys more polite conversation. The weather. Art. music.." They were venturing up a hill but she wasn't paying attention; having too much fun poking the bear, so to speak. "Are you married?" Arktos gave an exasperated roll of his eyes. "No? ...I can't see why.. ...You keep charming the ladies like you do you should find someone in no time.." Arktos glared at her and shook his head. "No wonder the captain has been in such a foul mood the past few days. You're annoying as hell.." Thalia gave a horrified gasp. "Arktos.. that is no way to speak to a lady..." But she smirked; enjoying the fact that she could get under his skin just as well as she could Lukos and even her brothers.
Arktos refused to speak or even look at her after that; no matter how much goading she did, so she finally gave up as they climbed well-worn stone steps that looked down at the village below. She turned to look at where they were going and saw the remnants of an old temple. The tint was fading off its grand columns and the marble statues out front identifying who the temple was dedicated to were dull and worn down from years of weather. It couldn't still be in use.. at least not as a temple.
They carried her into the cool interior. Walls lined the outside, and the interior was one large open area with rooms and old doors towards the back of the structure. Arktos and the other crew member set her down in the middle of the room. Around her were some finer pieces of furniture; a large bed with disheveled linens and crates piled atop each other. Material and other items leaned against other boxes and casks, and there were a few rolled up rugs. Like someone was trying to fashion it as a home, but didn't have enough time or care to continue doing anything with it. With all the doors that lined the walls closed, the interior was rather dark; only slivers of light peaked in along the thresholds. When the two men turned to leave, Thalia crawled to the edge of the cage. "Wait.. you aren't just going to...LEAVE me like this, are you?? At least let me out.." Arktos gave a grunt and followed the other crew member out without a word; shutting the door behind him with a bang that echoed off the walls; throwing the room into complete darkness save those small slivers of light.
She clenched her jaw and leaned back on the cage; crossing her arms over her chest. Did they leave her to rot in a room full of collectibles? Effectively becoming storage?? And where were all the other slaves?? Why weren't they being stored here as well?? Whatever the case, being relegated to chattel again didn't sit well with her. Apparently, she hadn't made herself clear enough with Lukos. ...And if there were any mice in here, she swore she would bend steel to get out.
Lukos personally supervised the off loading of two heavy chests. These were loaded into a wagon and he alone took them deeper into the island. The tending of the slaves he left up to Arktos and Bianor. Each of the cages was carried around the dock and toward the treeline. Just inside this, under the temple was a natural cave system, high enough that tide never reached it and it only tended to flood during more violent weather.
Long before Lukos, pirates had been using the island. The cave system had been shut off in several places where it was dangerous to tread. Perhaps it had been used as a living area because of its natural dryness. The walls of it were well worn, as was the stone floor. All Lukos had done to it was to install a wooden gate over the opening. Holes small enough for only children to slip through allowed a little sunlight to filter in through the top and gave one a narrow view of the temple’s base.
It was in here that Arktos took the rest of the slaves and where he had been planning to take the irritating woman as well. Why Lukos was keeping her so close was a mystery he planned to solve. To keep the woman in his room aboard ship? That was not unusual, given her state. To have her unchained from the wall, the way he’d found her? Free to roam the cabin? That did not sit well with the big man.
“She’s a witch,” he muttered under his breath as he turned and locked the wooden gate behind him. The slaves huddled together in groups, finally able to hug each other properly. Arktos shook his head as he started down the path. Unlike the captain, he was a natural born citizen of Colchis; a free man, able to do as he pleased, wherever it pleased him. At this moment, it pleased him like nothing else to make sure that their real profit makers behind him were fed and watered, while Lukos’ pet went hungry and thirsty. That would teach her to mock him.
Dusk settled over the island in a thin blue veil of misting rain. Thunder rumbled inside thick clouds still out over the water but threatening to come inland. A tall, thin, girlish form darted up the path through the rain. In her arms was the makings of a feast. She darted up the steps and slipped when her bare feet hit the slick limestone floor just inside the temple’s outer columns. Glancing around to be sure her mistake had not been seen, she gathered the spilled food up and crept inside.
She stopped short when she spied Thalia in the cage. Unabashed curiosity played across her face but she did not speak. Instead she walked over to a small table and unloaded her arms of flat, round bread wrapped in a now wet cloth, and a bowl of honeyed figs. The girl turned to go, casting another curious glance at the cage again before she disappeared out into the light rain. Within a few minutes, she appeared again, though this time she brought a small earthen crock filled with cooked beans and a plate of cooked fish. She left and returned one more time with a cask of wine and a bowl of oil.
All of it set on the table, she slunk around the room, lighting little clay lamps that barely penetrated the increasing gloom. Wind whistled through the cavernous space and she stared around as though sure that she would find a monster over her shoulder at any moment. It was nearly full dark now and before she left for the final time, she gave Thalia a look that conveyed that she thought Thalia would be dead by morning. The girl gave a final frightened look around the temple and scampered away, out of the temple and back down the hill to the ramshackle village.
The girl had not been gone for more than a few minutes before Lukos appeared on the steps. His steps were slow and as he walked across the floor, he gave the cage the barest glance as he peeled his filthy shirt up over his head and let it fall at his feet with a wet plop. Next came one boot, tossed carelessly followed by the other. His trousers stuck to him but he did not remove them. Instead his eyes alighted on the table. He walked to it, plucked up a fig and popped it in his mouth. With a loud sigh he tipped his face up to the ceiling but kept his eyes closed, too exhausted to even pretend to be anything else. At last his eyes wandered to the wine. There were no cups on the table and he cast around until he found one. It was silver with tiny rubies encrusted in a ring at the base of the stem.
Bringing it to the table, he poured wine into it and drank deeply. He ignored the cage completely and set the now empty wine down before sauntering off into the shadows deeper into the temple. Whatever she cried at him, he summarily ignored until he came back a few minutes later clean again and with different trousers slung low on his hips.
“If you beg nicely,” he said to her as he passed her cage, running his fingers through his wet hair. “I’ll let you have some bread.”
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Lukos personally supervised the off loading of two heavy chests. These were loaded into a wagon and he alone took them deeper into the island. The tending of the slaves he left up to Arktos and Bianor. Each of the cages was carried around the dock and toward the treeline. Just inside this, under the temple was a natural cave system, high enough that tide never reached it and it only tended to flood during more violent weather.
Long before Lukos, pirates had been using the island. The cave system had been shut off in several places where it was dangerous to tread. Perhaps it had been used as a living area because of its natural dryness. The walls of it were well worn, as was the stone floor. All Lukos had done to it was to install a wooden gate over the opening. Holes small enough for only children to slip through allowed a little sunlight to filter in through the top and gave one a narrow view of the temple’s base.
It was in here that Arktos took the rest of the slaves and where he had been planning to take the irritating woman as well. Why Lukos was keeping her so close was a mystery he planned to solve. To keep the woman in his room aboard ship? That was not unusual, given her state. To have her unchained from the wall, the way he’d found her? Free to roam the cabin? That did not sit well with the big man.
“She’s a witch,” he muttered under his breath as he turned and locked the wooden gate behind him. The slaves huddled together in groups, finally able to hug each other properly. Arktos shook his head as he started down the path. Unlike the captain, he was a natural born citizen of Colchis; a free man, able to do as he pleased, wherever it pleased him. At this moment, it pleased him like nothing else to make sure that their real profit makers behind him were fed and watered, while Lukos’ pet went hungry and thirsty. That would teach her to mock him.
Dusk settled over the island in a thin blue veil of misting rain. Thunder rumbled inside thick clouds still out over the water but threatening to come inland. A tall, thin, girlish form darted up the path through the rain. In her arms was the makings of a feast. She darted up the steps and slipped when her bare feet hit the slick limestone floor just inside the temple’s outer columns. Glancing around to be sure her mistake had not been seen, she gathered the spilled food up and crept inside.
She stopped short when she spied Thalia in the cage. Unabashed curiosity played across her face but she did not speak. Instead she walked over to a small table and unloaded her arms of flat, round bread wrapped in a now wet cloth, and a bowl of honeyed figs. The girl turned to go, casting another curious glance at the cage again before she disappeared out into the light rain. Within a few minutes, she appeared again, though this time she brought a small earthen crock filled with cooked beans and a plate of cooked fish. She left and returned one more time with a cask of wine and a bowl of oil.
All of it set on the table, she slunk around the room, lighting little clay lamps that barely penetrated the increasing gloom. Wind whistled through the cavernous space and she stared around as though sure that she would find a monster over her shoulder at any moment. It was nearly full dark now and before she left for the final time, she gave Thalia a look that conveyed that she thought Thalia would be dead by morning. The girl gave a final frightened look around the temple and scampered away, out of the temple and back down the hill to the ramshackle village.
The girl had not been gone for more than a few minutes before Lukos appeared on the steps. His steps were slow and as he walked across the floor, he gave the cage the barest glance as he peeled his filthy shirt up over his head and let it fall at his feet with a wet plop. Next came one boot, tossed carelessly followed by the other. His trousers stuck to him but he did not remove them. Instead his eyes alighted on the table. He walked to it, plucked up a fig and popped it in his mouth. With a loud sigh he tipped his face up to the ceiling but kept his eyes closed, too exhausted to even pretend to be anything else. At last his eyes wandered to the wine. There were no cups on the table and he cast around until he found one. It was silver with tiny rubies encrusted in a ring at the base of the stem.
Bringing it to the table, he poured wine into it and drank deeply. He ignored the cage completely and set the now empty wine down before sauntering off into the shadows deeper into the temple. Whatever she cried at him, he summarily ignored until he came back a few minutes later clean again and with different trousers slung low on his hips.
“If you beg nicely,” he said to her as he passed her cage, running his fingers through his wet hair. “I’ll let you have some bread.”
Lukos personally supervised the off loading of two heavy chests. These were loaded into a wagon and he alone took them deeper into the island. The tending of the slaves he left up to Arktos and Bianor. Each of the cages was carried around the dock and toward the treeline. Just inside this, under the temple was a natural cave system, high enough that tide never reached it and it only tended to flood during more violent weather.
Long before Lukos, pirates had been using the island. The cave system had been shut off in several places where it was dangerous to tread. Perhaps it had been used as a living area because of its natural dryness. The walls of it were well worn, as was the stone floor. All Lukos had done to it was to install a wooden gate over the opening. Holes small enough for only children to slip through allowed a little sunlight to filter in through the top and gave one a narrow view of the temple’s base.
It was in here that Arktos took the rest of the slaves and where he had been planning to take the irritating woman as well. Why Lukos was keeping her so close was a mystery he planned to solve. To keep the woman in his room aboard ship? That was not unusual, given her state. To have her unchained from the wall, the way he’d found her? Free to roam the cabin? That did not sit well with the big man.
“She’s a witch,” he muttered under his breath as he turned and locked the wooden gate behind him. The slaves huddled together in groups, finally able to hug each other properly. Arktos shook his head as he started down the path. Unlike the captain, he was a natural born citizen of Colchis; a free man, able to do as he pleased, wherever it pleased him. At this moment, it pleased him like nothing else to make sure that their real profit makers behind him were fed and watered, while Lukos’ pet went hungry and thirsty. That would teach her to mock him.
Dusk settled over the island in a thin blue veil of misting rain. Thunder rumbled inside thick clouds still out over the water but threatening to come inland. A tall, thin, girlish form darted up the path through the rain. In her arms was the makings of a feast. She darted up the steps and slipped when her bare feet hit the slick limestone floor just inside the temple’s outer columns. Glancing around to be sure her mistake had not been seen, she gathered the spilled food up and crept inside.
She stopped short when she spied Thalia in the cage. Unabashed curiosity played across her face but she did not speak. Instead she walked over to a small table and unloaded her arms of flat, round bread wrapped in a now wet cloth, and a bowl of honeyed figs. The girl turned to go, casting another curious glance at the cage again before she disappeared out into the light rain. Within a few minutes, she appeared again, though this time she brought a small earthen crock filled with cooked beans and a plate of cooked fish. She left and returned one more time with a cask of wine and a bowl of oil.
All of it set on the table, she slunk around the room, lighting little clay lamps that barely penetrated the increasing gloom. Wind whistled through the cavernous space and she stared around as though sure that she would find a monster over her shoulder at any moment. It was nearly full dark now and before she left for the final time, she gave Thalia a look that conveyed that she thought Thalia would be dead by morning. The girl gave a final frightened look around the temple and scampered away, out of the temple and back down the hill to the ramshackle village.
The girl had not been gone for more than a few minutes before Lukos appeared on the steps. His steps were slow and as he walked across the floor, he gave the cage the barest glance as he peeled his filthy shirt up over his head and let it fall at his feet with a wet plop. Next came one boot, tossed carelessly followed by the other. His trousers stuck to him but he did not remove them. Instead his eyes alighted on the table. He walked to it, plucked up a fig and popped it in his mouth. With a loud sigh he tipped his face up to the ceiling but kept his eyes closed, too exhausted to even pretend to be anything else. At last his eyes wandered to the wine. There were no cups on the table and he cast around until he found one. It was silver with tiny rubies encrusted in a ring at the base of the stem.
Bringing it to the table, he poured wine into it and drank deeply. He ignored the cage completely and set the now empty wine down before sauntering off into the shadows deeper into the temple. Whatever she cried at him, he summarily ignored until he came back a few minutes later clean again and with different trousers slung low on his hips.
“If you beg nicely,” he said to her as he passed her cage, running his fingers through his wet hair. “I’ll let you have some bread.”
Hours. Hours came and went, stuck inside that cage. She couldn't stretch. She couldn't stand. She was stuck in the dark and the silence. It was....maddening. In her time in the cage, she tried to fiddle with the bars; the lock. She pushed the cage over trying to shake it loose. There was plenty of room to roll it about, albeit quite loud every time it slammed down on the limestone floor... ...and it was..exhausting. But her efforts paid off after about the 6th try when the cage slammed down and the door broke open. She gave a shriek of delight and clambered out of the cage before righting it and putting it back where Arktos had originally left her.
She stretched out her body as she stood over the box; giving a squeal of delight for being out and then set about exploring the room. She made sure anything she touched was placed back meticulously and she never went too far from the cage. She was able to push an old door open for a while and get some sun, as well as take care of her own business. But there was no food to be had; not even one of those nasty little crackers he tried to pass off as food. Being who and what she was, she couldn't just go wandering down to the village, so she'd have to suck it up and wait.
As dusk began to fall, she thought someone had to come soon and so she climbed back in the cage and pulled the door closed. The lock was broken, though if she shook it just so, it would latch enough to fool anyone into thinking it was still locked. she was ensured she could come and go anytime she liked; ...Provided she wasn't caught. There was something freeing about that. And while she hated the cage, she decided she liked this one. It was like it was keeping her own little secret.
When the girl slipped in, laden with food, tiptoeing through the shadows, Thalia perked up; watching her. She called to her timidly at first, and then more boldly on her second pass.. "Just one loaf... I haven't eaten anything all day!" ...But it went on deaf ears. The girl ignored her pleading; giving her a fearful look before she slipped out after lighting the interior lamps.
The room glowed ethereally and it looked like a temple. In the highest peaks were carved reliefs of men at war. Great battles told in a story in the painted carvings. This had to be a temple that had been dedicated to Ares at one time. The idea that anyone would store things or live here was... well it was bold, to say the least. She felt bad for banging the cage about on the floor. What if she'd damaged it?
She said a quick prayer of apology and devotion to the God of war (who her brother worshipped) and leaned back against the bars with her arms folded impatiently over her chest. No wonder the girl gave her a nervous look. This was the last place she wanted to be, too. The priests who resided here at one time doubtful had women traipsing through or even staying.
Sometime later, Lukos emerged through the main entry and she stared at him as she pursed her lips. While she wasn't as annoyed as what she would have been had she not broken the lock on the cage and gotten free, she was still rather annoyed that he put her in a cage at all and left her all day without food in the remnants of a Gods temple. Anything she said to him, he ignored; carrying out his business as if she were never there. It wasn't until he returned, freshened up to pick at the food that he acknowledged her existence; teasing her with the idea of eating if she begged. "How novel. Did the other slaves have to beg to eat? ...Or are you starving them as well?" Beg a small girl who wandered through with trays laden with food? That was acceptable. But she'd never beg Lukos. "Or is it just me you'll starve?" She was growing comfortable with him; up until that morning. But it seemed they'd taken a couple steps back in their relationship once she was relegated to a cage again. "I've been in this cage all day. Do you have any plans of letting me out?"
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Hours. Hours came and went, stuck inside that cage. She couldn't stretch. She couldn't stand. She was stuck in the dark and the silence. It was....maddening. In her time in the cage, she tried to fiddle with the bars; the lock. She pushed the cage over trying to shake it loose. There was plenty of room to roll it about, albeit quite loud every time it slammed down on the limestone floor... ...and it was..exhausting. But her efforts paid off after about the 6th try when the cage slammed down and the door broke open. She gave a shriek of delight and clambered out of the cage before righting it and putting it back where Arktos had originally left her.
She stretched out her body as she stood over the box; giving a squeal of delight for being out and then set about exploring the room. She made sure anything she touched was placed back meticulously and she never went too far from the cage. She was able to push an old door open for a while and get some sun, as well as take care of her own business. But there was no food to be had; not even one of those nasty little crackers he tried to pass off as food. Being who and what she was, she couldn't just go wandering down to the village, so she'd have to suck it up and wait.
As dusk began to fall, she thought someone had to come soon and so she climbed back in the cage and pulled the door closed. The lock was broken, though if she shook it just so, it would latch enough to fool anyone into thinking it was still locked. she was ensured she could come and go anytime she liked; ...Provided she wasn't caught. There was something freeing about that. And while she hated the cage, she decided she liked this one. It was like it was keeping her own little secret.
When the girl slipped in, laden with food, tiptoeing through the shadows, Thalia perked up; watching her. She called to her timidly at first, and then more boldly on her second pass.. "Just one loaf... I haven't eaten anything all day!" ...But it went on deaf ears. The girl ignored her pleading; giving her a fearful look before she slipped out after lighting the interior lamps.
The room glowed ethereally and it looked like a temple. In the highest peaks were carved reliefs of men at war. Great battles told in a story in the painted carvings. This had to be a temple that had been dedicated to Ares at one time. The idea that anyone would store things or live here was... well it was bold, to say the least. She felt bad for banging the cage about on the floor. What if she'd damaged it?
She said a quick prayer of apology and devotion to the God of war (who her brother worshipped) and leaned back against the bars with her arms folded impatiently over her chest. No wonder the girl gave her a nervous look. This was the last place she wanted to be, too. The priests who resided here at one time doubtful had women traipsing through or even staying.
Sometime later, Lukos emerged through the main entry and she stared at him as she pursed her lips. While she wasn't as annoyed as what she would have been had she not broken the lock on the cage and gotten free, she was still rather annoyed that he put her in a cage at all and left her all day without food in the remnants of a Gods temple. Anything she said to him, he ignored; carrying out his business as if she were never there. It wasn't until he returned, freshened up to pick at the food that he acknowledged her existence; teasing her with the idea of eating if she begged. "How novel. Did the other slaves have to beg to eat? ...Or are you starving them as well?" Beg a small girl who wandered through with trays laden with food? That was acceptable. But she'd never beg Lukos. "Or is it just me you'll starve?" She was growing comfortable with him; up until that morning. But it seemed they'd taken a couple steps back in their relationship once she was relegated to a cage again. "I've been in this cage all day. Do you have any plans of letting me out?"
Hours. Hours came and went, stuck inside that cage. She couldn't stretch. She couldn't stand. She was stuck in the dark and the silence. It was....maddening. In her time in the cage, she tried to fiddle with the bars; the lock. She pushed the cage over trying to shake it loose. There was plenty of room to roll it about, albeit quite loud every time it slammed down on the limestone floor... ...and it was..exhausting. But her efforts paid off after about the 6th try when the cage slammed down and the door broke open. She gave a shriek of delight and clambered out of the cage before righting it and putting it back where Arktos had originally left her.
She stretched out her body as she stood over the box; giving a squeal of delight for being out and then set about exploring the room. She made sure anything she touched was placed back meticulously and she never went too far from the cage. She was able to push an old door open for a while and get some sun, as well as take care of her own business. But there was no food to be had; not even one of those nasty little crackers he tried to pass off as food. Being who and what she was, she couldn't just go wandering down to the village, so she'd have to suck it up and wait.
As dusk began to fall, she thought someone had to come soon and so she climbed back in the cage and pulled the door closed. The lock was broken, though if she shook it just so, it would latch enough to fool anyone into thinking it was still locked. she was ensured she could come and go anytime she liked; ...Provided she wasn't caught. There was something freeing about that. And while she hated the cage, she decided she liked this one. It was like it was keeping her own little secret.
When the girl slipped in, laden with food, tiptoeing through the shadows, Thalia perked up; watching her. She called to her timidly at first, and then more boldly on her second pass.. "Just one loaf... I haven't eaten anything all day!" ...But it went on deaf ears. The girl ignored her pleading; giving her a fearful look before she slipped out after lighting the interior lamps.
The room glowed ethereally and it looked like a temple. In the highest peaks were carved reliefs of men at war. Great battles told in a story in the painted carvings. This had to be a temple that had been dedicated to Ares at one time. The idea that anyone would store things or live here was... well it was bold, to say the least. She felt bad for banging the cage about on the floor. What if she'd damaged it?
She said a quick prayer of apology and devotion to the God of war (who her brother worshipped) and leaned back against the bars with her arms folded impatiently over her chest. No wonder the girl gave her a nervous look. This was the last place she wanted to be, too. The priests who resided here at one time doubtful had women traipsing through or even staying.
Sometime later, Lukos emerged through the main entry and she stared at him as she pursed her lips. While she wasn't as annoyed as what she would have been had she not broken the lock on the cage and gotten free, she was still rather annoyed that he put her in a cage at all and left her all day without food in the remnants of a Gods temple. Anything she said to him, he ignored; carrying out his business as if she were never there. It wasn't until he returned, freshened up to pick at the food that he acknowledged her existence; teasing her with the idea of eating if she begged. "How novel. Did the other slaves have to beg to eat? ...Or are you starving them as well?" Beg a small girl who wandered through with trays laden with food? That was acceptable. But she'd never beg Lukos. "Or is it just me you'll starve?" She was growing comfortable with him; up until that morning. But it seemed they'd taken a couple steps back in their relationship once she was relegated to a cage again. "I've been in this cage all day. Do you have any plans of letting me out?"
He ignored of her questions. She acted as though she was being starved. Half turning, he looked for the evidence that she had eaten; the remnants of grape clusters, the water skein she should have had. They weren’t there. For half a second he almost asked her if she’d eaten but he quashed the urge by turning his head. What was there to feel sorry for? This was likely the first time in her entire life she’d gone hungry. It wouldn’t kill her.
Striding over to the table, he picked up a flat bread and tore off a piece, using it as a spoon for the beans before tearing another. After a minute of casting irritated glances in her direction, he let out a long sigh born of resignation and irritation. “Your real name,” he said, glaring down at the food in his hands.
“I want your real name.” All the things she’d imagined he would do with her name - attacking her family, selling them into slavery were simply that - the imaginings of a scared individual. He had nothing whatsoever to gain from attacking a well respected family in their home town and every thing to lose by attempting it. If the truth were known, he would rather have had Arktos leave her where he found her in the markets, rather than bringing her to the beach. Once there, Lukos couldn’t very well have let her go. Her fate had been sealed before they’d ever laid eyes on each other.
He walked over to her cage and leaned an arm against it, looking down at her. No woman in his entire experience, whether from the greatest houses to the lowliest hovel had ever displayed the tenacious audacity that her gaze, even at that moment, held. Privately he was beginning to fear he’d accidentally captured a goddess or perhaps the pet of some god or other. It was just as well they were in one of Ares’ old temples. She would do well for that particular god.
Reaching up to the lock, he waited for her answer, ready to take her out if she played the game.
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He ignored of her questions. She acted as though she was being starved. Half turning, he looked for the evidence that she had eaten; the remnants of grape clusters, the water skein she should have had. They weren’t there. For half a second he almost asked her if she’d eaten but he quashed the urge by turning his head. What was there to feel sorry for? This was likely the first time in her entire life she’d gone hungry. It wouldn’t kill her.
Striding over to the table, he picked up a flat bread and tore off a piece, using it as a spoon for the beans before tearing another. After a minute of casting irritated glances in her direction, he let out a long sigh born of resignation and irritation. “Your real name,” he said, glaring down at the food in his hands.
“I want your real name.” All the things she’d imagined he would do with her name - attacking her family, selling them into slavery were simply that - the imaginings of a scared individual. He had nothing whatsoever to gain from attacking a well respected family in their home town and every thing to lose by attempting it. If the truth were known, he would rather have had Arktos leave her where he found her in the markets, rather than bringing her to the beach. Once there, Lukos couldn’t very well have let her go. Her fate had been sealed before they’d ever laid eyes on each other.
He walked over to her cage and leaned an arm against it, looking down at her. No woman in his entire experience, whether from the greatest houses to the lowliest hovel had ever displayed the tenacious audacity that her gaze, even at that moment, held. Privately he was beginning to fear he’d accidentally captured a goddess or perhaps the pet of some god or other. It was just as well they were in one of Ares’ old temples. She would do well for that particular god.
Reaching up to the lock, he waited for her answer, ready to take her out if she played the game.
He ignored of her questions. She acted as though she was being starved. Half turning, he looked for the evidence that she had eaten; the remnants of grape clusters, the water skein she should have had. They weren’t there. For half a second he almost asked her if she’d eaten but he quashed the urge by turning his head. What was there to feel sorry for? This was likely the first time in her entire life she’d gone hungry. It wouldn’t kill her.
Striding over to the table, he picked up a flat bread and tore off a piece, using it as a spoon for the beans before tearing another. After a minute of casting irritated glances in her direction, he let out a long sigh born of resignation and irritation. “Your real name,” he said, glaring down at the food in his hands.
“I want your real name.” All the things she’d imagined he would do with her name - attacking her family, selling them into slavery were simply that - the imaginings of a scared individual. He had nothing whatsoever to gain from attacking a well respected family in their home town and every thing to lose by attempting it. If the truth were known, he would rather have had Arktos leave her where he found her in the markets, rather than bringing her to the beach. Once there, Lukos couldn’t very well have let her go. Her fate had been sealed before they’d ever laid eyes on each other.
He walked over to her cage and leaned an arm against it, looking down at her. No woman in his entire experience, whether from the greatest houses to the lowliest hovel had ever displayed the tenacious audacity that her gaze, even at that moment, held. Privately he was beginning to fear he’d accidentally captured a goddess or perhaps the pet of some god or other. It was just as well they were in one of Ares’ old temples. She would do well for that particular god.
Reaching up to the lock, he waited for her answer, ready to take her out if she played the game.
She was starting to feel invisible. Never had she dealt with people who so flippantly ignored her when she spoke directly to them. It was infuriating. It was rude. Between him and Arktos and the servant girl, she was starting to wonder if she was some sort of specter that no one could see. When a dog barks, you find out why. You don't just let it keep barking and she was being treated worse than a dog.
She began to resign herself to not being acknowledged. She looked away from him and lowered her chin. Part of her wondered what had happened during the day to change things.. she'd taunted Arktos a bit, but she hadn't seen or spoken to Lukos since that morning. Were he that irritated with her then, he would have pushed her out of the bed and chained her back up. But even as she stretched out on the bed when he left, he'd not seemed more adverse than any other time.
"Your real name"
Thalia turned her chin and looked up at him. He didn't look at her; he just stared at the food. She glanced down at is as well. She considered it for a moment. Just letting him know.. but she had no idea what he would do with the information. He'd given her no reassurances, and if his crew was bold enough to snatch her off the street, in her mind they were plenty bold enough to go to her family house. She wouldn't risk the lives of her family for a few bites of bread.
She watched as he turned on his heal and walked to her cage; staring down at her as he leaned against it. She didn't shrink away.. but she didn't look down her nose at him either. That had to say something about her. She may not have been submissive to him, but she didn't treat him as an inferior, either.
She raised a brow and paused for a moment. "You've yet to tell me yours.." After he deemed her worthy of having his name, she shifted in her seat. He reached for the lock and she willed it to stay secure long enough for him to unlock it. She looked back up at him. "It's Phaedra. I didn't lie to you..." ...Well...that was a lie. But the art of lying was never letting someone think you were lying. If she'd told him a different name, he wouldn't likely believe that one either. Then they'd be in this perpetual cycle of never believing her name.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
She was starting to feel invisible. Never had she dealt with people who so flippantly ignored her when she spoke directly to them. It was infuriating. It was rude. Between him and Arktos and the servant girl, she was starting to wonder if she was some sort of specter that no one could see. When a dog barks, you find out why. You don't just let it keep barking and she was being treated worse than a dog.
She began to resign herself to not being acknowledged. She looked away from him and lowered her chin. Part of her wondered what had happened during the day to change things.. she'd taunted Arktos a bit, but she hadn't seen or spoken to Lukos since that morning. Were he that irritated with her then, he would have pushed her out of the bed and chained her back up. But even as she stretched out on the bed when he left, he'd not seemed more adverse than any other time.
"Your real name"
Thalia turned her chin and looked up at him. He didn't look at her; he just stared at the food. She glanced down at is as well. She considered it for a moment. Just letting him know.. but she had no idea what he would do with the information. He'd given her no reassurances, and if his crew was bold enough to snatch her off the street, in her mind they were plenty bold enough to go to her family house. She wouldn't risk the lives of her family for a few bites of bread.
She watched as he turned on his heal and walked to her cage; staring down at her as he leaned against it. She didn't shrink away.. but she didn't look down her nose at him either. That had to say something about her. She may not have been submissive to him, but she didn't treat him as an inferior, either.
She raised a brow and paused for a moment. "You've yet to tell me yours.." After he deemed her worthy of having his name, she shifted in her seat. He reached for the lock and she willed it to stay secure long enough for him to unlock it. She looked back up at him. "It's Phaedra. I didn't lie to you..." ...Well...that was a lie. But the art of lying was never letting someone think you were lying. If she'd told him a different name, he wouldn't likely believe that one either. Then they'd be in this perpetual cycle of never believing her name.
She was starting to feel invisible. Never had she dealt with people who so flippantly ignored her when she spoke directly to them. It was infuriating. It was rude. Between him and Arktos and the servant girl, she was starting to wonder if she was some sort of specter that no one could see. When a dog barks, you find out why. You don't just let it keep barking and she was being treated worse than a dog.
She began to resign herself to not being acknowledged. She looked away from him and lowered her chin. Part of her wondered what had happened during the day to change things.. she'd taunted Arktos a bit, but she hadn't seen or spoken to Lukos since that morning. Were he that irritated with her then, he would have pushed her out of the bed and chained her back up. But even as she stretched out on the bed when he left, he'd not seemed more adverse than any other time.
"Your real name"
Thalia turned her chin and looked up at him. He didn't look at her; he just stared at the food. She glanced down at is as well. She considered it for a moment. Just letting him know.. but she had no idea what he would do with the information. He'd given her no reassurances, and if his crew was bold enough to snatch her off the street, in her mind they were plenty bold enough to go to her family house. She wouldn't risk the lives of her family for a few bites of bread.
She watched as he turned on his heal and walked to her cage; staring down at her as he leaned against it. She didn't shrink away.. but she didn't look down her nose at him either. That had to say something about her. She may not have been submissive to him, but she didn't treat him as an inferior, either.
She raised a brow and paused for a moment. "You've yet to tell me yours.." After he deemed her worthy of having his name, she shifted in her seat. He reached for the lock and she willed it to stay secure long enough for him to unlock it. She looked back up at him. "It's Phaedra. I didn't lie to you..." ...Well...that was a lie. But the art of lying was never letting someone think you were lying. If she'd told him a different name, he wouldn't likely believe that one either. Then they'd be in this perpetual cycle of never believing her name.
He worked his jaw for a moment, never looking anywhere but her face. Wordlessly, he disengaged the lock and flipped open the top of the cage, reaching in to help haul her out. She would have been easy to lift but he’d been digging all day. His muscles burned as he held her up so that she could get her legs free of the cage. It was a relief to put her down.
“Phaidra,” he repeated as he backed away from her. It was suddenly awkward that she was here. When he’d told Bianor to have her brought to the temple, he’d only been thinking of making her uncomfortable. None of his crew liked to come here and the slaves didn’t touch it if he wasn’t on the island to order them up here. There were stories that the temple held a curse, or had been the place of a great atrocity. No story really agreed but they did effectively give him his own place where he could enjoy as much solitude as he liked.
Lukos waved her toward the table, standing aside to let her pass him. When he’d come in, he had not intended to share anything with her at all and he wouldn’t have to now if Arktos had fed her. It was unlike his bear to deny the slaves food but he chalked it up to a lapse of memory.
For a moment he’d thought he might talk to her but he recoiled at the notion. She was not here for his amusement. Lukos leaned back against the cage, watching her pick over the food. The chiton he’d given her on the ship dipped low down her back, revealing her lithe shoulders. He bit his lower lip hard enough to leave teeth marks before pushing away from the cage and stalking outside for a moment.
He stood on the porch, hands on his hips, glaring into the night. Down the hill he could see the lights of the village. His crew would no doubt be enjoying their families. Solitude he could bear but he did not know what to do with this particular woman. There was a distance that he meant to keep up around her but she kept insisting on closing the gap. She was supposed to be some sort of nothing that he kept locked up. Not roaming freely about his private cabin or his home as though she had any right to anything.
When he was sure that he was safe from her again, he walked back inside. “Better?” he asked flippantly as he came around to the table and poured himself another chalice of wine, as though she had been the one that needed to leave the room. He looked at her from under his brows and considered taunting her again but he held back. Taunting led to more talking. Instead he sipped the wine and took some more of the honeyed figs before walking over to his bed and sitting on it.
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He worked his jaw for a moment, never looking anywhere but her face. Wordlessly, he disengaged the lock and flipped open the top of the cage, reaching in to help haul her out. She would have been easy to lift but he’d been digging all day. His muscles burned as he held her up so that she could get her legs free of the cage. It was a relief to put her down.
“Phaidra,” he repeated as he backed away from her. It was suddenly awkward that she was here. When he’d told Bianor to have her brought to the temple, he’d only been thinking of making her uncomfortable. None of his crew liked to come here and the slaves didn’t touch it if he wasn’t on the island to order them up here. There were stories that the temple held a curse, or had been the place of a great atrocity. No story really agreed but they did effectively give him his own place where he could enjoy as much solitude as he liked.
Lukos waved her toward the table, standing aside to let her pass him. When he’d come in, he had not intended to share anything with her at all and he wouldn’t have to now if Arktos had fed her. It was unlike his bear to deny the slaves food but he chalked it up to a lapse of memory.
For a moment he’d thought he might talk to her but he recoiled at the notion. She was not here for his amusement. Lukos leaned back against the cage, watching her pick over the food. The chiton he’d given her on the ship dipped low down her back, revealing her lithe shoulders. He bit his lower lip hard enough to leave teeth marks before pushing away from the cage and stalking outside for a moment.
He stood on the porch, hands on his hips, glaring into the night. Down the hill he could see the lights of the village. His crew would no doubt be enjoying their families. Solitude he could bear but he did not know what to do with this particular woman. There was a distance that he meant to keep up around her but she kept insisting on closing the gap. She was supposed to be some sort of nothing that he kept locked up. Not roaming freely about his private cabin or his home as though she had any right to anything.
When he was sure that he was safe from her again, he walked back inside. “Better?” he asked flippantly as he came around to the table and poured himself another chalice of wine, as though she had been the one that needed to leave the room. He looked at her from under his brows and considered taunting her again but he held back. Taunting led to more talking. Instead he sipped the wine and took some more of the honeyed figs before walking over to his bed and sitting on it.
He worked his jaw for a moment, never looking anywhere but her face. Wordlessly, he disengaged the lock and flipped open the top of the cage, reaching in to help haul her out. She would have been easy to lift but he’d been digging all day. His muscles burned as he held her up so that she could get her legs free of the cage. It was a relief to put her down.
“Phaidra,” he repeated as he backed away from her. It was suddenly awkward that she was here. When he’d told Bianor to have her brought to the temple, he’d only been thinking of making her uncomfortable. None of his crew liked to come here and the slaves didn’t touch it if he wasn’t on the island to order them up here. There were stories that the temple held a curse, or had been the place of a great atrocity. No story really agreed but they did effectively give him his own place where he could enjoy as much solitude as he liked.
Lukos waved her toward the table, standing aside to let her pass him. When he’d come in, he had not intended to share anything with her at all and he wouldn’t have to now if Arktos had fed her. It was unlike his bear to deny the slaves food but he chalked it up to a lapse of memory.
For a moment he’d thought he might talk to her but he recoiled at the notion. She was not here for his amusement. Lukos leaned back against the cage, watching her pick over the food. The chiton he’d given her on the ship dipped low down her back, revealing her lithe shoulders. He bit his lower lip hard enough to leave teeth marks before pushing away from the cage and stalking outside for a moment.
He stood on the porch, hands on his hips, glaring into the night. Down the hill he could see the lights of the village. His crew would no doubt be enjoying their families. Solitude he could bear but he did not know what to do with this particular woman. There was a distance that he meant to keep up around her but she kept insisting on closing the gap. She was supposed to be some sort of nothing that he kept locked up. Not roaming freely about his private cabin or his home as though she had any right to anything.
When he was sure that he was safe from her again, he walked back inside. “Better?” he asked flippantly as he came around to the table and poured himself another chalice of wine, as though she had been the one that needed to leave the room. He looked at her from under his brows and considered taunting her again but he held back. Taunting led to more talking. Instead he sipped the wine and took some more of the honeyed figs before walking over to his bed and sitting on it.
After he considered her for a long moment, he wordlessly disengaged the lock without looking at her. She scrambled up to stand and could have managed her way out of the top, but he offered to help her out, so she let him. "Thank you.." She probably could have heckled him. She could have continued to prod; she was quite good at it. But she knew it took him a lot to swallow his pride enough to release her. She wasn't going to discourage it.
He repeated her name again...or her fake name and she said nothing as he stepped back. She wasn't sure how much freedom he was giving her, exactly and so the moment was awkward with her waiting for him to tell her what she could do. While the temple was large and had quite a lot of history, as Thalia had never been to the island before, all of the rumors and fear surrounding it had no effect on her. The best thing Lukos could have done was put her in it immediately before anyone in town was able to tell her stories about it as she'd be able to see first hand, without being influenced, that it was harmless. ...Just...cavernous. ...Then again, she probably wouldn't go knocking any holes in the floor; with Ares being as temperamental as he was.
Finally, Lukos waved her towards the table and she stepped past him to the spread that she'd had to sit and smell for over half an hour. Being that her house was wealthy, she wasn't accustomed to living on one meal a day. Some grapes and cured meat from yesterday wouldn't cut it. Were he not here she would have gone elbows deep, but she attempted civility and plucked up a round of flatbread and tore a piece off as he had; spooning some of the beans into it and taking a bite. She almost whined it was so good. There was fresh fruit, wine, and fish. Bread and beans, And there was enough of it to feed four people, easily.
He stood an watched her eat; arms crossed as he leaned against the cage. It made her anxious and she was about to ask him to join her, but he turned his back on her and walked out. Frowning, she watched him step outside. She stared down at the food, feeling bad that she was taking his meal.......but not bad enough to stop eating. She took a few more hasty bites of beans... larger bites than were probably proper, but he wasn't there to see.. and who knew when she'd get to eat again?? Next, she moved on to some of the fish; flaking it off with a utensil to eat the meat; making sure she didn't eat any bones. It was freshly caught and grilled and so it was quite good. And, as it was the first fresh meat she'd had in days, it tasted like heaven.
She ate until her stomach felt overly full and she didn't feel bad about it. When he came back in she was leaned against a few crates, eating grapes and sipping some wine from the chalice he'd found. She would have used her own, but she didn't see one. She put it down as he asked if she felt better and she gave him a satisfied smile. "Yes...much."
He poured some more wine and grabbed a handful of figs before going to his bed to sit down without a word. Thalia began wandering about; exploring as if she hadn't already done so earlier. Granted, things were easier to see, now that the lamps were lit than when she'd done it in the shadowy darkness. "...You live in a temple that was dedicated to Ares..." Looking back at him from around a set of crates; an amused glint in her eyes. "...You are either very bold, or very stupid..." She wandered off to another set of crates; picking up a silver disc and turning it over to look at. "...I don't believe you to be stupid. ...So I would say it's more boldness...."
She set the disk down and moved on to explore other things. "Being that Ares favors brevity, I cannot decide if he would curse or bless you for this..."
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After he considered her for a long moment, he wordlessly disengaged the lock without looking at her. She scrambled up to stand and could have managed her way out of the top, but he offered to help her out, so she let him. "Thank you.." She probably could have heckled him. She could have continued to prod; she was quite good at it. But she knew it took him a lot to swallow his pride enough to release her. She wasn't going to discourage it.
He repeated her name again...or her fake name and she said nothing as he stepped back. She wasn't sure how much freedom he was giving her, exactly and so the moment was awkward with her waiting for him to tell her what she could do. While the temple was large and had quite a lot of history, as Thalia had never been to the island before, all of the rumors and fear surrounding it had no effect on her. The best thing Lukos could have done was put her in it immediately before anyone in town was able to tell her stories about it as she'd be able to see first hand, without being influenced, that it was harmless. ...Just...cavernous. ...Then again, she probably wouldn't go knocking any holes in the floor; with Ares being as temperamental as he was.
Finally, Lukos waved her towards the table and she stepped past him to the spread that she'd had to sit and smell for over half an hour. Being that her house was wealthy, she wasn't accustomed to living on one meal a day. Some grapes and cured meat from yesterday wouldn't cut it. Were he not here she would have gone elbows deep, but she attempted civility and plucked up a round of flatbread and tore a piece off as he had; spooning some of the beans into it and taking a bite. She almost whined it was so good. There was fresh fruit, wine, and fish. Bread and beans, And there was enough of it to feed four people, easily.
He stood an watched her eat; arms crossed as he leaned against the cage. It made her anxious and she was about to ask him to join her, but he turned his back on her and walked out. Frowning, she watched him step outside. She stared down at the food, feeling bad that she was taking his meal.......but not bad enough to stop eating. She took a few more hasty bites of beans... larger bites than were probably proper, but he wasn't there to see.. and who knew when she'd get to eat again?? Next, she moved on to some of the fish; flaking it off with a utensil to eat the meat; making sure she didn't eat any bones. It was freshly caught and grilled and so it was quite good. And, as it was the first fresh meat she'd had in days, it tasted like heaven.
She ate until her stomach felt overly full and she didn't feel bad about it. When he came back in she was leaned against a few crates, eating grapes and sipping some wine from the chalice he'd found. She would have used her own, but she didn't see one. She put it down as he asked if she felt better and she gave him a satisfied smile. "Yes...much."
He poured some more wine and grabbed a handful of figs before going to his bed to sit down without a word. Thalia began wandering about; exploring as if she hadn't already done so earlier. Granted, things were easier to see, now that the lamps were lit than when she'd done it in the shadowy darkness. "...You live in a temple that was dedicated to Ares..." Looking back at him from around a set of crates; an amused glint in her eyes. "...You are either very bold, or very stupid..." She wandered off to another set of crates; picking up a silver disc and turning it over to look at. "...I don't believe you to be stupid. ...So I would say it's more boldness...."
She set the disk down and moved on to explore other things. "Being that Ares favors brevity, I cannot decide if he would curse or bless you for this..."
After he considered her for a long moment, he wordlessly disengaged the lock without looking at her. She scrambled up to stand and could have managed her way out of the top, but he offered to help her out, so she let him. "Thank you.." She probably could have heckled him. She could have continued to prod; she was quite good at it. But she knew it took him a lot to swallow his pride enough to release her. She wasn't going to discourage it.
He repeated her name again...or her fake name and she said nothing as he stepped back. She wasn't sure how much freedom he was giving her, exactly and so the moment was awkward with her waiting for him to tell her what she could do. While the temple was large and had quite a lot of history, as Thalia had never been to the island before, all of the rumors and fear surrounding it had no effect on her. The best thing Lukos could have done was put her in it immediately before anyone in town was able to tell her stories about it as she'd be able to see first hand, without being influenced, that it was harmless. ...Just...cavernous. ...Then again, she probably wouldn't go knocking any holes in the floor; with Ares being as temperamental as he was.
Finally, Lukos waved her towards the table and she stepped past him to the spread that she'd had to sit and smell for over half an hour. Being that her house was wealthy, she wasn't accustomed to living on one meal a day. Some grapes and cured meat from yesterday wouldn't cut it. Were he not here she would have gone elbows deep, but she attempted civility and plucked up a round of flatbread and tore a piece off as he had; spooning some of the beans into it and taking a bite. She almost whined it was so good. There was fresh fruit, wine, and fish. Bread and beans, And there was enough of it to feed four people, easily.
He stood an watched her eat; arms crossed as he leaned against the cage. It made her anxious and she was about to ask him to join her, but he turned his back on her and walked out. Frowning, she watched him step outside. She stared down at the food, feeling bad that she was taking his meal.......but not bad enough to stop eating. She took a few more hasty bites of beans... larger bites than were probably proper, but he wasn't there to see.. and who knew when she'd get to eat again?? Next, she moved on to some of the fish; flaking it off with a utensil to eat the meat; making sure she didn't eat any bones. It was freshly caught and grilled and so it was quite good. And, as it was the first fresh meat she'd had in days, it tasted like heaven.
She ate until her stomach felt overly full and she didn't feel bad about it. When he came back in she was leaned against a few crates, eating grapes and sipping some wine from the chalice he'd found. She would have used her own, but she didn't see one. She put it down as he asked if she felt better and she gave him a satisfied smile. "Yes...much."
He poured some more wine and grabbed a handful of figs before going to his bed to sit down without a word. Thalia began wandering about; exploring as if she hadn't already done so earlier. Granted, things were easier to see, now that the lamps were lit than when she'd done it in the shadowy darkness. "...You live in a temple that was dedicated to Ares..." Looking back at him from around a set of crates; an amused glint in her eyes. "...You are either very bold, or very stupid..." She wandered off to another set of crates; picking up a silver disc and turning it over to look at. "...I don't believe you to be stupid. ...So I would say it's more boldness...."
She set the disk down and moved on to explore other things. "Being that Ares favors brevity, I cannot decide if he would curse or bless you for this..."
He shook his head when she smiled at him. It was better for her that he had not noticed that she’d used his chalice. That she was evidently comfortable was a bad sign. His stomach growled, prompting him to eat the figs. These would not be enough. The trunks he’d buried had been large and damn near impossible to unload from the wagon by himself. In the end he’d managed and on top of that, had dug out a six foot trench for them, only to refill it with the dirt and cover it with brush.
Like her, through the whole of the day, he’d had no food. Once she wandered away from the table, he rose from the bed and went to see what she’d left. Not as much as he wanted. With a look in her direction, he sighed. He was keenly aware of her as she moved about his things. Wherever she moved, he shifted so that he could keep her in peripheral view.
Unlike her, he did not eat with decorum. He ate like he was starving. Reaching for the wine cask, he filled his cup again and finished off the fish and bread. The wine warmed his throat and settled comfortably in his stomach and when she mentioned that he lived in Ares’s temple, he shrugged and looked around. “He’s not using it,” he said flatly.
When he had first been brought to this island some twenty or so years ago, he, like the rest, had been frightened of the temple. It was only by coming here as an adult that he’d realized the potential use of it. So far as he knew, he was the only person to ever take up residence in it. She mentioned airily that he was either bold or stupid and at that he gave a non-committal noise, somewhere between a grunt and a derisive snort.
He turned to catch her giving him an amused smirk. Before he could level her with a glare she disappeared back around the crates, denying him the chance. He inched away from the table, leaning a little so that he could follow her movements; catching the edge of her shoulder here, or the flutter of the back of her dress there. Something silver glinted off the light of one of the clay lamps and he edged further out to find her idly flipping a silver plate end over end.
He opened his mouth to tell her to put it down but she spoke first, musing aloud that she decided he was bold, rather than stupid. His mouth shut and he frowned. Abandoning all pretense of being disinterested, he followed her cautiously, maintaining a safe distance as she set the plate down on a different crate from the one she’d taken it from.
His bare feet made no noise as he moved, observing her the way he might watch a tiger roaming around through his things. “He’s obviously cursed me,” Lukos muttered under his breath. He moved past the place where she’d set the silver disc, accidentally brushing against it with his hip. The plate clattered to the floor, the sound reverberating and echoing off the stone interior, impossibly loud.
He bent down, gingerly picking it up and held it to his chest. The metal was cold against his skin but he paid it no attention. She was nearing chests that held clothes and blankets, rather than the dishes of royal houses. Inside those chests she would find linen from Egypt, silks of vivid purple and blue. One chest held two weskhet collars made of gold as well as several beaded ones in various stones of turquoise and lapis.
“Do you always sift through people’s things like they’re yours?” There was no smile on his face. At first he’d intended to let her look wherever she wanted but that inclination passed. She was a slave. She did not have these freedoms.
Setting the plate down, he stalked forward, reaching for her. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do with her once he had her. There was always her cage but they’d been down a similar road before on the ship. If he made her sleep in it, she would howl and whine like a cat in moonlight. There were rugs...He might be persuaded to let her use those as a bed.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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He shook his head when she smiled at him. It was better for her that he had not noticed that she’d used his chalice. That she was evidently comfortable was a bad sign. His stomach growled, prompting him to eat the figs. These would not be enough. The trunks he’d buried had been large and damn near impossible to unload from the wagon by himself. In the end he’d managed and on top of that, had dug out a six foot trench for them, only to refill it with the dirt and cover it with brush.
Like her, through the whole of the day, he’d had no food. Once she wandered away from the table, he rose from the bed and went to see what she’d left. Not as much as he wanted. With a look in her direction, he sighed. He was keenly aware of her as she moved about his things. Wherever she moved, he shifted so that he could keep her in peripheral view.
Unlike her, he did not eat with decorum. He ate like he was starving. Reaching for the wine cask, he filled his cup again and finished off the fish and bread. The wine warmed his throat and settled comfortably in his stomach and when she mentioned that he lived in Ares’s temple, he shrugged and looked around. “He’s not using it,” he said flatly.
When he had first been brought to this island some twenty or so years ago, he, like the rest, had been frightened of the temple. It was only by coming here as an adult that he’d realized the potential use of it. So far as he knew, he was the only person to ever take up residence in it. She mentioned airily that he was either bold or stupid and at that he gave a non-committal noise, somewhere between a grunt and a derisive snort.
He turned to catch her giving him an amused smirk. Before he could level her with a glare she disappeared back around the crates, denying him the chance. He inched away from the table, leaning a little so that he could follow her movements; catching the edge of her shoulder here, or the flutter of the back of her dress there. Something silver glinted off the light of one of the clay lamps and he edged further out to find her idly flipping a silver plate end over end.
He opened his mouth to tell her to put it down but she spoke first, musing aloud that she decided he was bold, rather than stupid. His mouth shut and he frowned. Abandoning all pretense of being disinterested, he followed her cautiously, maintaining a safe distance as she set the plate down on a different crate from the one she’d taken it from.
His bare feet made no noise as he moved, observing her the way he might watch a tiger roaming around through his things. “He’s obviously cursed me,” Lukos muttered under his breath. He moved past the place where she’d set the silver disc, accidentally brushing against it with his hip. The plate clattered to the floor, the sound reverberating and echoing off the stone interior, impossibly loud.
He bent down, gingerly picking it up and held it to his chest. The metal was cold against his skin but he paid it no attention. She was nearing chests that held clothes and blankets, rather than the dishes of royal houses. Inside those chests she would find linen from Egypt, silks of vivid purple and blue. One chest held two weskhet collars made of gold as well as several beaded ones in various stones of turquoise and lapis.
“Do you always sift through people’s things like they’re yours?” There was no smile on his face. At first he’d intended to let her look wherever she wanted but that inclination passed. She was a slave. She did not have these freedoms.
Setting the plate down, he stalked forward, reaching for her. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do with her once he had her. There was always her cage but they’d been down a similar road before on the ship. If he made her sleep in it, she would howl and whine like a cat in moonlight. There were rugs...He might be persuaded to let her use those as a bed.
He shook his head when she smiled at him. It was better for her that he had not noticed that she’d used his chalice. That she was evidently comfortable was a bad sign. His stomach growled, prompting him to eat the figs. These would not be enough. The trunks he’d buried had been large and damn near impossible to unload from the wagon by himself. In the end he’d managed and on top of that, had dug out a six foot trench for them, only to refill it with the dirt and cover it with brush.
Like her, through the whole of the day, he’d had no food. Once she wandered away from the table, he rose from the bed and went to see what she’d left. Not as much as he wanted. With a look in her direction, he sighed. He was keenly aware of her as she moved about his things. Wherever she moved, he shifted so that he could keep her in peripheral view.
Unlike her, he did not eat with decorum. He ate like he was starving. Reaching for the wine cask, he filled his cup again and finished off the fish and bread. The wine warmed his throat and settled comfortably in his stomach and when she mentioned that he lived in Ares’s temple, he shrugged and looked around. “He’s not using it,” he said flatly.
When he had first been brought to this island some twenty or so years ago, he, like the rest, had been frightened of the temple. It was only by coming here as an adult that he’d realized the potential use of it. So far as he knew, he was the only person to ever take up residence in it. She mentioned airily that he was either bold or stupid and at that he gave a non-committal noise, somewhere between a grunt and a derisive snort.
He turned to catch her giving him an amused smirk. Before he could level her with a glare she disappeared back around the crates, denying him the chance. He inched away from the table, leaning a little so that he could follow her movements; catching the edge of her shoulder here, or the flutter of the back of her dress there. Something silver glinted off the light of one of the clay lamps and he edged further out to find her idly flipping a silver plate end over end.
He opened his mouth to tell her to put it down but she spoke first, musing aloud that she decided he was bold, rather than stupid. His mouth shut and he frowned. Abandoning all pretense of being disinterested, he followed her cautiously, maintaining a safe distance as she set the plate down on a different crate from the one she’d taken it from.
His bare feet made no noise as he moved, observing her the way he might watch a tiger roaming around through his things. “He’s obviously cursed me,” Lukos muttered under his breath. He moved past the place where she’d set the silver disc, accidentally brushing against it with his hip. The plate clattered to the floor, the sound reverberating and echoing off the stone interior, impossibly loud.
He bent down, gingerly picking it up and held it to his chest. The metal was cold against his skin but he paid it no attention. She was nearing chests that held clothes and blankets, rather than the dishes of royal houses. Inside those chests she would find linen from Egypt, silks of vivid purple and blue. One chest held two weskhet collars made of gold as well as several beaded ones in various stones of turquoise and lapis.
“Do you always sift through people’s things like they’re yours?” There was no smile on his face. At first he’d intended to let her look wherever she wanted but that inclination passed. She was a slave. She did not have these freedoms.
Setting the plate down, he stalked forward, reaching for her. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do with her once he had her. There was always her cage but they’d been down a similar road before on the ship. If he made her sleep in it, she would howl and whine like a cat in moonlight. There were rugs...He might be persuaded to let her use those as a bed.
They were treasures. Treasures picked up from all ends of the earth. From far off lands that she'd never seen, nor never would see. Even with the wealth her family had, there were just things that you never had a concept of that other lands were abundant in. His collections were that. Eccentricities that were truly quite interesting. She could spend hours sifting through things and asking him what they all were. Would he even know? Did one man need so many extravagances? They'd all been kept in crates and boxes...as if, if he had to, he could hasten them away quickly. ...It all seemed like such a waste. If you were going to acquire all this wealth, you may as well show it off.. not keep it packed away in crates.
Perhaps he had a healthy amount of guilt associated with collecting it all. Maybe he didn't believe it was all truly his. It wasn't, after all. He was a pirate. Pirates didn't earn anything..they took. She'd always thought that they would sell it quickly for a profit, however. Not hoard it away. ....Perhaps Ares was happy to keep it for him. Like burnt offerings, the God probably considered them his.
While Thalia was bold enough to wander through the stacks of treasures, she didn't open any crates or chests that were closed; merely looked at things that set atop them. Nor did she have much care for their wealth and finery. She was used to wealth and finery. She started when the plate fell as he'd been stalking her silently through the crates. When he picked up the disk she'd looked at earlier and followed her, she continued on her journey; touching ornate tassels that hung from a few stacked crates and a large black sculpture of a dog man. With his question, she looked up at him. "...They aren't yours, though, are they?"
He put the plate down and crossed the distance between them quickly. She took a few steps back to get away from him, but her calves hit a chest as he took hold of her. She raised her chin and stared at him; her arms folded defensively in front of her chest. Still, she wouldn't shrink away from him; his challenge was met with one of her own... even as her heart hammered in her chest and she wholly expected him to strike her again. She considered striking him first, but he was still taller and stronger than her. Without a weapon, even with as athletic as she as, she wouldn't be able to fight him on an even playing field. Just like her brother, she would be no match against him.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
They were treasures. Treasures picked up from all ends of the earth. From far off lands that she'd never seen, nor never would see. Even with the wealth her family had, there were just things that you never had a concept of that other lands were abundant in. His collections were that. Eccentricities that were truly quite interesting. She could spend hours sifting through things and asking him what they all were. Would he even know? Did one man need so many extravagances? They'd all been kept in crates and boxes...as if, if he had to, he could hasten them away quickly. ...It all seemed like such a waste. If you were going to acquire all this wealth, you may as well show it off.. not keep it packed away in crates.
Perhaps he had a healthy amount of guilt associated with collecting it all. Maybe he didn't believe it was all truly his. It wasn't, after all. He was a pirate. Pirates didn't earn anything..they took. She'd always thought that they would sell it quickly for a profit, however. Not hoard it away. ....Perhaps Ares was happy to keep it for him. Like burnt offerings, the God probably considered them his.
While Thalia was bold enough to wander through the stacks of treasures, she didn't open any crates or chests that were closed; merely looked at things that set atop them. Nor did she have much care for their wealth and finery. She was used to wealth and finery. She started when the plate fell as he'd been stalking her silently through the crates. When he picked up the disk she'd looked at earlier and followed her, she continued on her journey; touching ornate tassels that hung from a few stacked crates and a large black sculpture of a dog man. With his question, she looked up at him. "...They aren't yours, though, are they?"
He put the plate down and crossed the distance between them quickly. She took a few steps back to get away from him, but her calves hit a chest as he took hold of her. She raised her chin and stared at him; her arms folded defensively in front of her chest. Still, she wouldn't shrink away from him; his challenge was met with one of her own... even as her heart hammered in her chest and she wholly expected him to strike her again. She considered striking him first, but he was still taller and stronger than her. Without a weapon, even with as athletic as she as, she wouldn't be able to fight him on an even playing field. Just like her brother, she would be no match against him.
They were treasures. Treasures picked up from all ends of the earth. From far off lands that she'd never seen, nor never would see. Even with the wealth her family had, there were just things that you never had a concept of that other lands were abundant in. His collections were that. Eccentricities that were truly quite interesting. She could spend hours sifting through things and asking him what they all were. Would he even know? Did one man need so many extravagances? They'd all been kept in crates and boxes...as if, if he had to, he could hasten them away quickly. ...It all seemed like such a waste. If you were going to acquire all this wealth, you may as well show it off.. not keep it packed away in crates.
Perhaps he had a healthy amount of guilt associated with collecting it all. Maybe he didn't believe it was all truly his. It wasn't, after all. He was a pirate. Pirates didn't earn anything..they took. She'd always thought that they would sell it quickly for a profit, however. Not hoard it away. ....Perhaps Ares was happy to keep it for him. Like burnt offerings, the God probably considered them his.
While Thalia was bold enough to wander through the stacks of treasures, she didn't open any crates or chests that were closed; merely looked at things that set atop them. Nor did she have much care for their wealth and finery. She was used to wealth and finery. She started when the plate fell as he'd been stalking her silently through the crates. When he picked up the disk she'd looked at earlier and followed her, she continued on her journey; touching ornate tassels that hung from a few stacked crates and a large black sculpture of a dog man. With his question, she looked up at him. "...They aren't yours, though, are they?"
He put the plate down and crossed the distance between them quickly. She took a few steps back to get away from him, but her calves hit a chest as he took hold of her. She raised her chin and stared at him; her arms folded defensively in front of her chest. Still, she wouldn't shrink away from him; his challenge was met with one of her own... even as her heart hammered in her chest and she wholly expected him to strike her again. She considered striking him first, but he was still taller and stronger than her. Without a weapon, even with as athletic as she as, she wouldn't be able to fight him on an even playing field. Just like her brother, she would be no match against him.
She backed away, igniting a thrill in his chest. This was what he wanted from her. No fight. Just submission. The statue, which stood on top of the trunk she bumped into, swayed dangerously. His arm slung out to catch it just before it fell. He righted it again, keeping his hand closed around her upper arm.
There was nowhere for her to go and instead of cowering down, as he’d expected, he found her staring straight up into his eyes, daring him to fight. He raised a hand but his eyes roved her face. The bruise on the her cheek made him lower his hand and set it heavily on her shoulder instead. He smoothed his thumb over her collarbone, coming to rest at the hollow of her throat.
“These things are mine,” he said darkly, tightening his grip on her arm. There would be no bruise from his fingers but his hold was secure. Drawing her with him, he backed up, keeping his gaze fixed on hers. She would have to be the one to look away first.
They passed through the rows chests again until they came to the one with the Weskhets. He at last had to glance away to open the chest. Bending to the side, he forced her to bend with him as he shifted about until his fingers closed around what he was looking for. From out of the chest he withdrew a thick golden collar with a clasp in the back.
Hooking a foot behind her ankle, he swiped her feet out from beneath her but he did not let her crash to the floor. Instead he controlled her descent with his grip on her arm. He took advantage of her momentary loss of balance and straddled her once he had her flat on her back. “These things are mine,” he repeated, placing the collar around her neck. “Just like you.”
He was breathing hard with the effort of having to be gentle with her and yet maintain control. They would be leaving as soon as the ship resupplied and he did not want more bruises or obvious damage to her. As soon as the collar was around her neck, he let go of her arms but he did not immediately get off her. Where was her fear? His eyes searched hers, needing to find it.
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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She backed away, igniting a thrill in his chest. This was what he wanted from her. No fight. Just submission. The statue, which stood on top of the trunk she bumped into, swayed dangerously. His arm slung out to catch it just before it fell. He righted it again, keeping his hand closed around her upper arm.
There was nowhere for her to go and instead of cowering down, as he’d expected, he found her staring straight up into his eyes, daring him to fight. He raised a hand but his eyes roved her face. The bruise on the her cheek made him lower his hand and set it heavily on her shoulder instead. He smoothed his thumb over her collarbone, coming to rest at the hollow of her throat.
“These things are mine,” he said darkly, tightening his grip on her arm. There would be no bruise from his fingers but his hold was secure. Drawing her with him, he backed up, keeping his gaze fixed on hers. She would have to be the one to look away first.
They passed through the rows chests again until they came to the one with the Weskhets. He at last had to glance away to open the chest. Bending to the side, he forced her to bend with him as he shifted about until his fingers closed around what he was looking for. From out of the chest he withdrew a thick golden collar with a clasp in the back.
Hooking a foot behind her ankle, he swiped her feet out from beneath her but he did not let her crash to the floor. Instead he controlled her descent with his grip on her arm. He took advantage of her momentary loss of balance and straddled her once he had her flat on her back. “These things are mine,” he repeated, placing the collar around her neck. “Just like you.”
He was breathing hard with the effort of having to be gentle with her and yet maintain control. They would be leaving as soon as the ship resupplied and he did not want more bruises or obvious damage to her. As soon as the collar was around her neck, he let go of her arms but he did not immediately get off her. Where was her fear? His eyes searched hers, needing to find it.
She backed away, igniting a thrill in his chest. This was what he wanted from her. No fight. Just submission. The statue, which stood on top of the trunk she bumped into, swayed dangerously. His arm slung out to catch it just before it fell. He righted it again, keeping his hand closed around her upper arm.
There was nowhere for her to go and instead of cowering down, as he’d expected, he found her staring straight up into his eyes, daring him to fight. He raised a hand but his eyes roved her face. The bruise on the her cheek made him lower his hand and set it heavily on her shoulder instead. He smoothed his thumb over her collarbone, coming to rest at the hollow of her throat.
“These things are mine,” he said darkly, tightening his grip on her arm. There would be no bruise from his fingers but his hold was secure. Drawing her with him, he backed up, keeping his gaze fixed on hers. She would have to be the one to look away first.
They passed through the rows chests again until they came to the one with the Weskhets. He at last had to glance away to open the chest. Bending to the side, he forced her to bend with him as he shifted about until his fingers closed around what he was looking for. From out of the chest he withdrew a thick golden collar with a clasp in the back.
Hooking a foot behind her ankle, he swiped her feet out from beneath her but he did not let her crash to the floor. Instead he controlled her descent with his grip on her arm. He took advantage of her momentary loss of balance and straddled her once he had her flat on her back. “These things are mine,” he repeated, placing the collar around her neck. “Just like you.”
He was breathing hard with the effort of having to be gentle with her and yet maintain control. They would be leaving as soon as the ship resupplied and he did not want more bruises or obvious damage to her. As soon as the collar was around her neck, he let go of her arms but he did not immediately get off her. Where was her fear? His eyes searched hers, needing to find it.
"These things are mine."
In hindsight, she probably shouldn't have taunted him. In hindsight, just staying quiet may have made his reaction less volatile. ...But Thalia had never been very good at censoring herself. Nor did she know that his change in attitude and how he was reacting had nothing to do with her and everything to do with how she made him feel.
He was dark; dominating and intimidating. She'd never been around someone so threatening. No man at court would ever treat a lady in such a way, and her brothers, even when in their worst moods, would never look at her the way he was looking at her right now or handle her the way he was. He raised his hand to strike her and she sucked in a breath; expecting it, but instead, he lowered that same hand to her shoulder; firmly tracing the line of her collarbone to her throat. She pushed him away by his chest; gripped his wrist as her face flamed with anger. "Let. ...Me go." She said it with a low, menacing voice. No one handled her in such a manner... touched her in such a way. He backed up; pulling her with him; his eyes locked on hers as his hand remained firmly on her arm. She glanced away to see where he was going; not because it was a challenge.. his posture.. the way he held her was a challenge. Whether she broke eye contact was irrelevant.
Stopping to a chest, he bent down; pulling her with him and she pried at the fingers holding her arm. He may not think it would bruise, but it was vice-like. it certainly would bruise. After he'd found what he wanted, he swept her feet out from under her, and the gloves were off. She'd restrained her dissent so much as she was pulled forwards. She'd attempted to dig her feet in only to have her sandals slide across the smooth floor. As soon as her feet left beneath her and he stopped her from falling completely, she lashed out. Most women fought with claws; hair pulling and pushing away. Thalia was a brawler, Her slender hands twisted into solid fists and she leveled them everywhere his hands didn't deflect; his sides; his chest; his face, if she could; all while she twisted and kicked and screeched in a way that would have the villagers below wondering if a harpy hadn't descended into the temple. Her screams echoed off of the tall ceilings and hard surfaces. She demanded that he let her go.. that he get off her. Being pinned in such a position made it difficult for her to leverage a decent blow upon his person save a few solid rib shots.. and with his arms deflecting most of her blows to his face, she could only rely on her hips as they pushed up and twisted.
The cold metal of a collar slipped around her throat and he sealed the clasp. When he let go of her arm, she backhanded him and then scrambled out from beneath him; gasping for breath as she slid back on the floor to get away. There was no fear in her eyes. She was tired. She was angry enough to kill him if she had the right weapon, but there as no fear. She wouldn't let herself be afraid of this man. She wouldn't let him have that power any more than she would allow that collar to remain around her throat. Trembling fingers wrestled with the clasp behind her neck and she heaved breathlessly; glaring at him warily in case he decided to come after her again. She tore the collar off her neck; it tangled in tendrils of hair that had been pulled from her braid. When her hair was free, she chucked it as hard as she could at him with another shriek of fury. "...I... am. NOBODIES!"
Her voice echoed off the walls; reflecting back on them as she struggled to catch her breath. Her glare dared him to try it again. She would gladly wear herself out to exhaustion before she allowed him to pin her that way again.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
In hindsight, she probably shouldn't have taunted him. In hindsight, just staying quiet may have made his reaction less volatile. ...But Thalia had never been very good at censoring herself. Nor did she know that his change in attitude and how he was reacting had nothing to do with her and everything to do with how she made him feel.
He was dark; dominating and intimidating. She'd never been around someone so threatening. No man at court would ever treat a lady in such a way, and her brothers, even when in their worst moods, would never look at her the way he was looking at her right now or handle her the way he was. He raised his hand to strike her and she sucked in a breath; expecting it, but instead, he lowered that same hand to her shoulder; firmly tracing the line of her collarbone to her throat. She pushed him away by his chest; gripped his wrist as her face flamed with anger. "Let. ...Me go." She said it with a low, menacing voice. No one handled her in such a manner... touched her in such a way. He backed up; pulling her with him; his eyes locked on hers as his hand remained firmly on her arm. She glanced away to see where he was going; not because it was a challenge.. his posture.. the way he held her was a challenge. Whether she broke eye contact was irrelevant.
Stopping to a chest, he bent down; pulling her with him and she pried at the fingers holding her arm. He may not think it would bruise, but it was vice-like. it certainly would bruise. After he'd found what he wanted, he swept her feet out from under her, and the gloves were off. She'd restrained her dissent so much as she was pulled forwards. She'd attempted to dig her feet in only to have her sandals slide across the smooth floor. As soon as her feet left beneath her and he stopped her from falling completely, she lashed out. Most women fought with claws; hair pulling and pushing away. Thalia was a brawler, Her slender hands twisted into solid fists and she leveled them everywhere his hands didn't deflect; his sides; his chest; his face, if she could; all while she twisted and kicked and screeched in a way that would have the villagers below wondering if a harpy hadn't descended into the temple. Her screams echoed off of the tall ceilings and hard surfaces. She demanded that he let her go.. that he get off her. Being pinned in such a position made it difficult for her to leverage a decent blow upon his person save a few solid rib shots.. and with his arms deflecting most of her blows to his face, she could only rely on her hips as they pushed up and twisted.
The cold metal of a collar slipped around her throat and he sealed the clasp. When he let go of her arm, she backhanded him and then scrambled out from beneath him; gasping for breath as she slid back on the floor to get away. There was no fear in her eyes. She was tired. She was angry enough to kill him if she had the right weapon, but there as no fear. She wouldn't let herself be afraid of this man. She wouldn't let him have that power any more than she would allow that collar to remain around her throat. Trembling fingers wrestled with the clasp behind her neck and she heaved breathlessly; glaring at him warily in case he decided to come after her again. She tore the collar off her neck; it tangled in tendrils of hair that had been pulled from her braid. When her hair was free, she chucked it as hard as she could at him with another shriek of fury. "...I... am. NOBODIES!"
Her voice echoed off the walls; reflecting back on them as she struggled to catch her breath. Her glare dared him to try it again. She would gladly wear herself out to exhaustion before she allowed him to pin her that way again.
"These things are mine."
In hindsight, she probably shouldn't have taunted him. In hindsight, just staying quiet may have made his reaction less volatile. ...But Thalia had never been very good at censoring herself. Nor did she know that his change in attitude and how he was reacting had nothing to do with her and everything to do with how she made him feel.
He was dark; dominating and intimidating. She'd never been around someone so threatening. No man at court would ever treat a lady in such a way, and her brothers, even when in their worst moods, would never look at her the way he was looking at her right now or handle her the way he was. He raised his hand to strike her and she sucked in a breath; expecting it, but instead, he lowered that same hand to her shoulder; firmly tracing the line of her collarbone to her throat. She pushed him away by his chest; gripped his wrist as her face flamed with anger. "Let. ...Me go." She said it with a low, menacing voice. No one handled her in such a manner... touched her in such a way. He backed up; pulling her with him; his eyes locked on hers as his hand remained firmly on her arm. She glanced away to see where he was going; not because it was a challenge.. his posture.. the way he held her was a challenge. Whether she broke eye contact was irrelevant.
Stopping to a chest, he bent down; pulling her with him and she pried at the fingers holding her arm. He may not think it would bruise, but it was vice-like. it certainly would bruise. After he'd found what he wanted, he swept her feet out from under her, and the gloves were off. She'd restrained her dissent so much as she was pulled forwards. She'd attempted to dig her feet in only to have her sandals slide across the smooth floor. As soon as her feet left beneath her and he stopped her from falling completely, she lashed out. Most women fought with claws; hair pulling and pushing away. Thalia was a brawler, Her slender hands twisted into solid fists and she leveled them everywhere his hands didn't deflect; his sides; his chest; his face, if she could; all while she twisted and kicked and screeched in a way that would have the villagers below wondering if a harpy hadn't descended into the temple. Her screams echoed off of the tall ceilings and hard surfaces. She demanded that he let her go.. that he get off her. Being pinned in such a position made it difficult for her to leverage a decent blow upon his person save a few solid rib shots.. and with his arms deflecting most of her blows to his face, she could only rely on her hips as they pushed up and twisted.
The cold metal of a collar slipped around her throat and he sealed the clasp. When he let go of her arm, she backhanded him and then scrambled out from beneath him; gasping for breath as she slid back on the floor to get away. There was no fear in her eyes. She was tired. She was angry enough to kill him if she had the right weapon, but there as no fear. She wouldn't let herself be afraid of this man. She wouldn't let him have that power any more than she would allow that collar to remain around her throat. Trembling fingers wrestled with the clasp behind her neck and she heaved breathlessly; glaring at him warily in case he decided to come after her again. She tore the collar off her neck; it tangled in tendrils of hair that had been pulled from her braid. When her hair was free, she chucked it as hard as she could at him with another shriek of fury. "...I... am. NOBODIES!"
Her voice echoed off the walls; reflecting back on them as she struggled to catch her breath. Her glare dared him to try it again. She would gladly wear herself out to exhaustion before she allowed him to pin her that way again.
She exploded beneath him in a hail of fists and spitting fury. Twice she landed a solid punch to his jaw, making his teeth snap together. Lightning crackled across his vision at her second punch but he didn’t allow it to stop him from attaching the collar. He ducked her next jab and deflected any more that were aimed at his face. His jaw throbbed.
Her punches to his ribs, chest, and stomach were easier to bear and he made no move to stop her. She bucked him, screaming obscenities in his face. He rode her every twist, keeping his thighs clamped against her hips, nearly laughing. The sounds she made were deafening. Her legs scrambled and she managed to heft him enough that his shoulder bumped a tower of some sort of metal. It fell with a resounding crash all around them; shiny objects skittering across the floor.
As soon as he let go of her arm, she shoved and twisted, freeing herself at last. He crowed, gloating in his success, reveling in the seething hatred she cast at him. This was how she was supposed to see him. This he knew how to deal with. His body was alive with energy and he tensed, ready for her to come at him again.
She scooted backward, away from him, obviously hating him every second of the way. He stayed where he was for a moment, watching the way her chiton shifted higher up her thigh, wanting things he shouldn’t. For an wild moment he found himself moving toward her again but that was when her fingers were finally able to unclasp the collar. With a shriek she flung it at him.
A blur of shining gold filled his vision. Lukos flung up his arm a second too late. Burning pain erupted over his eye, just above the brow. With a clang the collar bounced off the floor, tumbling out of sight. He wondered if the collar suffered any damage; probably.
Lowering his arm, he eyed her as a trickle of blood wound its way down the side of his face. A slow smile crossed his features as he nodded, swiping at the small cut with the back of his hand. “We’ll see,” he said in retort to her proclamation that she belonged to nobody. Her chest heaved, her features were contorted with fury and he had a building headache. Another second saw him rise slowly to his feet.
He considered her for a moment, sucking on his bottom lip. His fingers twitched at his side but then curled into a fist before he turned away at last. There needed to be distance, not only because he was convinced she might scratch his eyes out if he tried to touch her. The blood wouldn’t stop its tickling trail down his face and the slight headache had bloomed into a pulsating nuisance.
His desire for her passed and he walked away without a word, moving back to the front area of the temple where his bed sat. The misting rain outside had strengthened into a steady drizzle. Water dripped onto the stone porch outside and he sat on the side of the bed, staring at it, absently wiping his brow every once in a while.
What was he doing? Three days on the ship and he’d managed to barely touch her. They hadn’t been in the same room for more than an hour and a half and he’d considered taking her. It seemed she was no safer with him than she would be with anybody else. Perhaps he should take her down with the rest of the slaves, where she belonged. Keeping her with him, like he was, was turning out to be a bad plan.
The rush that had come over him from fighting her started to abate, leaving fatigue in its wake. Blood dripped from his chin onto his hand and he looked down. His fingers were a mess. Fist shaped circles on his ribs throbbed and his arms burned from the day’s work. He could not sleep if his fingers and face were smeared with blood.
With a deep sigh, he stood, grabbed a clay pot lamp, and shuffled past her cage, past the towers of trunks, into the deeper shadows of the temple. He did not look for her and he did not particularly care where she was at that moment. Less than half an hour passed and when he returned, the blood was gone. She was not immediately visible when he came back into the light.
Part of him wondered if she was lying in wait somewhere, having found a weapon of some kind. His eyes scanned the room as he put out the first of the clay pots. So what if she was? He did not fear her. Nevertheless, he glanced about until he held the only light still burning.
Wherever she went, at least it was quiet now, like it would be if he was alone. Walking over to the table, he set the clay pot on its surface and extinguished it. He backed up to the bed, climbing in, his eyes still sweeping the dark for her. Slowly he eased himself down until his head met the pillow and he lay there, muscles tensed, waiting for her to make herself known.
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Check out their information page here.
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She exploded beneath him in a hail of fists and spitting fury. Twice she landed a solid punch to his jaw, making his teeth snap together. Lightning crackled across his vision at her second punch but he didn’t allow it to stop him from attaching the collar. He ducked her next jab and deflected any more that were aimed at his face. His jaw throbbed.
Her punches to his ribs, chest, and stomach were easier to bear and he made no move to stop her. She bucked him, screaming obscenities in his face. He rode her every twist, keeping his thighs clamped against her hips, nearly laughing. The sounds she made were deafening. Her legs scrambled and she managed to heft him enough that his shoulder bumped a tower of some sort of metal. It fell with a resounding crash all around them; shiny objects skittering across the floor.
As soon as he let go of her arm, she shoved and twisted, freeing herself at last. He crowed, gloating in his success, reveling in the seething hatred she cast at him. This was how she was supposed to see him. This he knew how to deal with. His body was alive with energy and he tensed, ready for her to come at him again.
She scooted backward, away from him, obviously hating him every second of the way. He stayed where he was for a moment, watching the way her chiton shifted higher up her thigh, wanting things he shouldn’t. For an wild moment he found himself moving toward her again but that was when her fingers were finally able to unclasp the collar. With a shriek she flung it at him.
A blur of shining gold filled his vision. Lukos flung up his arm a second too late. Burning pain erupted over his eye, just above the brow. With a clang the collar bounced off the floor, tumbling out of sight. He wondered if the collar suffered any damage; probably.
Lowering his arm, he eyed her as a trickle of blood wound its way down the side of his face. A slow smile crossed his features as he nodded, swiping at the small cut with the back of his hand. “We’ll see,” he said in retort to her proclamation that she belonged to nobody. Her chest heaved, her features were contorted with fury and he had a building headache. Another second saw him rise slowly to his feet.
He considered her for a moment, sucking on his bottom lip. His fingers twitched at his side but then curled into a fist before he turned away at last. There needed to be distance, not only because he was convinced she might scratch his eyes out if he tried to touch her. The blood wouldn’t stop its tickling trail down his face and the slight headache had bloomed into a pulsating nuisance.
His desire for her passed and he walked away without a word, moving back to the front area of the temple where his bed sat. The misting rain outside had strengthened into a steady drizzle. Water dripped onto the stone porch outside and he sat on the side of the bed, staring at it, absently wiping his brow every once in a while.
What was he doing? Three days on the ship and he’d managed to barely touch her. They hadn’t been in the same room for more than an hour and a half and he’d considered taking her. It seemed she was no safer with him than she would be with anybody else. Perhaps he should take her down with the rest of the slaves, where she belonged. Keeping her with him, like he was, was turning out to be a bad plan.
The rush that had come over him from fighting her started to abate, leaving fatigue in its wake. Blood dripped from his chin onto his hand and he looked down. His fingers were a mess. Fist shaped circles on his ribs throbbed and his arms burned from the day’s work. He could not sleep if his fingers and face were smeared with blood.
With a deep sigh, he stood, grabbed a clay pot lamp, and shuffled past her cage, past the towers of trunks, into the deeper shadows of the temple. He did not look for her and he did not particularly care where she was at that moment. Less than half an hour passed and when he returned, the blood was gone. She was not immediately visible when he came back into the light.
Part of him wondered if she was lying in wait somewhere, having found a weapon of some kind. His eyes scanned the room as he put out the first of the clay pots. So what if she was? He did not fear her. Nevertheless, he glanced about until he held the only light still burning.
Wherever she went, at least it was quiet now, like it would be if he was alone. Walking over to the table, he set the clay pot on its surface and extinguished it. He backed up to the bed, climbing in, his eyes still sweeping the dark for her. Slowly he eased himself down until his head met the pillow and he lay there, muscles tensed, waiting for her to make herself known.
She exploded beneath him in a hail of fists and spitting fury. Twice she landed a solid punch to his jaw, making his teeth snap together. Lightning crackled across his vision at her second punch but he didn’t allow it to stop him from attaching the collar. He ducked her next jab and deflected any more that were aimed at his face. His jaw throbbed.
Her punches to his ribs, chest, and stomach were easier to bear and he made no move to stop her. She bucked him, screaming obscenities in his face. He rode her every twist, keeping his thighs clamped against her hips, nearly laughing. The sounds she made were deafening. Her legs scrambled and she managed to heft him enough that his shoulder bumped a tower of some sort of metal. It fell with a resounding crash all around them; shiny objects skittering across the floor.
As soon as he let go of her arm, she shoved and twisted, freeing herself at last. He crowed, gloating in his success, reveling in the seething hatred she cast at him. This was how she was supposed to see him. This he knew how to deal with. His body was alive with energy and he tensed, ready for her to come at him again.
She scooted backward, away from him, obviously hating him every second of the way. He stayed where he was for a moment, watching the way her chiton shifted higher up her thigh, wanting things he shouldn’t. For an wild moment he found himself moving toward her again but that was when her fingers were finally able to unclasp the collar. With a shriek she flung it at him.
A blur of shining gold filled his vision. Lukos flung up his arm a second too late. Burning pain erupted over his eye, just above the brow. With a clang the collar bounced off the floor, tumbling out of sight. He wondered if the collar suffered any damage; probably.
Lowering his arm, he eyed her as a trickle of blood wound its way down the side of his face. A slow smile crossed his features as he nodded, swiping at the small cut with the back of his hand. “We’ll see,” he said in retort to her proclamation that she belonged to nobody. Her chest heaved, her features were contorted with fury and he had a building headache. Another second saw him rise slowly to his feet.
He considered her for a moment, sucking on his bottom lip. His fingers twitched at his side but then curled into a fist before he turned away at last. There needed to be distance, not only because he was convinced she might scratch his eyes out if he tried to touch her. The blood wouldn’t stop its tickling trail down his face and the slight headache had bloomed into a pulsating nuisance.
His desire for her passed and he walked away without a word, moving back to the front area of the temple where his bed sat. The misting rain outside had strengthened into a steady drizzle. Water dripped onto the stone porch outside and he sat on the side of the bed, staring at it, absently wiping his brow every once in a while.
What was he doing? Three days on the ship and he’d managed to barely touch her. They hadn’t been in the same room for more than an hour and a half and he’d considered taking her. It seemed she was no safer with him than she would be with anybody else. Perhaps he should take her down with the rest of the slaves, where she belonged. Keeping her with him, like he was, was turning out to be a bad plan.
The rush that had come over him from fighting her started to abate, leaving fatigue in its wake. Blood dripped from his chin onto his hand and he looked down. His fingers were a mess. Fist shaped circles on his ribs throbbed and his arms burned from the day’s work. He could not sleep if his fingers and face were smeared with blood.
With a deep sigh, he stood, grabbed a clay pot lamp, and shuffled past her cage, past the towers of trunks, into the deeper shadows of the temple. He did not look for her and he did not particularly care where she was at that moment. Less than half an hour passed and when he returned, the blood was gone. She was not immediately visible when he came back into the light.
Part of him wondered if she was lying in wait somewhere, having found a weapon of some kind. His eyes scanned the room as he put out the first of the clay pots. So what if she was? He did not fear her. Nevertheless, he glanced about until he held the only light still burning.
Wherever she went, at least it was quiet now, like it would be if he was alone. Walking over to the table, he set the clay pot on its surface and extinguished it. He backed up to the bed, climbing in, his eyes still sweeping the dark for her. Slowly he eased himself down until his head met the pillow and he lay there, muscles tensed, waiting for her to make herself known.
The sheer glee that twisted his features because of how she fought was infuriating. When the collar struck true, she could have crowed as it drew blood, but she was still far too shaken. He gave her a slow, knowing smile that caused her to clench her jaw as he murmured "we'll see."
Oh, but if she had her blade.. she would happily run him through without a second thought. Just like his crew member. ....Well...to be fair, she thought of him often. She could still feel the way the blade sank into muscle and flesh; the way the blade crunched against bone and then the wetness of his blood as it soaked into her gown. ...No, she'd probably think about it again. ..But she'd force herself to remember it fondly.
After he stared at her for an indeterminable length of time, he finally stood and walked away; leaving here shaken and frustrated. Adrenalin pulsed through her body; feeding her fight or flight response. She didn't care where she went, she had to get out of this temple... away from him. Slowly, she stood back up. Her knees felt wobbly, and she slipped silently around the crates; her heart thudding heavily in her ears. She looked around a set of crates to check for him and found him sitting on his bed; nursing the bloody knot she'd leveled on him.
After some time, he plucked up a lamp and walked to the back of the temple; presumably to clean himself up. She flattened herself against the stack of crates until he passed and then plucked up a folded mass of fabric that she would later find out was a large drape for a window. With him gone, she hurried to the front of the temple and slipped out the open door into the rain.
The limestone steps were slippery and she shook the heavy fabric out to cover her head. Taking the steps carefully, she descended down the side of the hill; her breathing coming out in gasps and her heart racing. She glanced back once when she was halfway down to see if he followed and was relieved to find he hadn't. Her only problem was, she had no idea where she was going. she didn't know the village. She didn't even know what island they were on, or where. Part of her wanted to just get in a boat and start rowing; to hell with everything else. If she had to row all the way back to Athenia, she would. But that was...irrational to say the least.
She ended up unconsciously retracing her path from earlier in the day back to the dock and the harbor they'd arrived in. The air was humid and the bottom of her chiton was drenched with the moisture of the rain, but she slipped silently down to the main dock. It was empty now; a stark contrast to the bustle here earlier in the day. The crew must have been in the village doing whatever they did. The idea that a bunch of pirates could have families that they came home to was out of her realm of comprehension.
The water on the harbor was fairly calm, but she could see whitecaps in the distance beyond the safety of the port. There would be no rowing anywhere tonight. Instead, she went to the last place she'd thought she'd want to be. The ship she was dragged here on. Grumbling, she pulled up the fabric so it wasn't dragging on the ground and stepped up onto the gangplank when a soft mewl got her attention. Pausing, she looked around for the sound and again, the mewling let her know there was an animal near. She stepped back to look around and saw a set of glowing eyes staring up at her from beneath the gangplank. Whiskers and a pink nose peaked out into the dim light and the cat mewled again. She glanced up at the boat and remembered the rats and crouched down to coax the cat out. somewhere one of the Gods was with her. At least she had that going for her. The cat wouldn't budge from beneath the plank, nor did she seem to protest when Thalia got close enough to drag her out from beneath her temporary hiding spot and tuck her into the blanket. She hastened up the gangplank after that and slipped downstairs into the cabin she'd stayed in for the past two nights.
Closing the door, she set the cat down and went to close the window that was left open. She considered lighting the lamp but didn't want to draw attention to the boat, so she left it dark in the room. As far as she was concerned, she was done for the night as it was. So, still wrapped up in the heavy drape, she laid down on top of the primitive bed and finally breathed a sigh of relief. It was nice to be where no one knew where she was....even if for a little bit, she could hide away and the rocking of the boat and the silence therein was calming. The cat she'd collected mewled a few times, but set about exploring the room before jumping up onto the bed and curled up near her feet. She stared down at the grey and black tabby. Its fur was scraggly and wet and she looked about as miserable as she was. Perhaps they would be great friends. Either way, if the creature wanted to eat, she'd have to hunt for her food.
She fell asleep staring at the cat, who incidentally, fell asleep being stared at. And not even the early light of the morning woke her as she'd not had a decent nights sleep since being taken.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
The sheer glee that twisted his features because of how she fought was infuriating. When the collar struck true, she could have crowed as it drew blood, but she was still far too shaken. He gave her a slow, knowing smile that caused her to clench her jaw as he murmured "we'll see."
Oh, but if she had her blade.. she would happily run him through without a second thought. Just like his crew member. ....Well...to be fair, she thought of him often. She could still feel the way the blade sank into muscle and flesh; the way the blade crunched against bone and then the wetness of his blood as it soaked into her gown. ...No, she'd probably think about it again. ..But she'd force herself to remember it fondly.
After he stared at her for an indeterminable length of time, he finally stood and walked away; leaving here shaken and frustrated. Adrenalin pulsed through her body; feeding her fight or flight response. She didn't care where she went, she had to get out of this temple... away from him. Slowly, she stood back up. Her knees felt wobbly, and she slipped silently around the crates; her heart thudding heavily in her ears. She looked around a set of crates to check for him and found him sitting on his bed; nursing the bloody knot she'd leveled on him.
After some time, he plucked up a lamp and walked to the back of the temple; presumably to clean himself up. She flattened herself against the stack of crates until he passed and then plucked up a folded mass of fabric that she would later find out was a large drape for a window. With him gone, she hurried to the front of the temple and slipped out the open door into the rain.
The limestone steps were slippery and she shook the heavy fabric out to cover her head. Taking the steps carefully, she descended down the side of the hill; her breathing coming out in gasps and her heart racing. She glanced back once when she was halfway down to see if he followed and was relieved to find he hadn't. Her only problem was, she had no idea where she was going. she didn't know the village. She didn't even know what island they were on, or where. Part of her wanted to just get in a boat and start rowing; to hell with everything else. If she had to row all the way back to Athenia, she would. But that was...irrational to say the least.
She ended up unconsciously retracing her path from earlier in the day back to the dock and the harbor they'd arrived in. The air was humid and the bottom of her chiton was drenched with the moisture of the rain, but she slipped silently down to the main dock. It was empty now; a stark contrast to the bustle here earlier in the day. The crew must have been in the village doing whatever they did. The idea that a bunch of pirates could have families that they came home to was out of her realm of comprehension.
The water on the harbor was fairly calm, but she could see whitecaps in the distance beyond the safety of the port. There would be no rowing anywhere tonight. Instead, she went to the last place she'd thought she'd want to be. The ship she was dragged here on. Grumbling, she pulled up the fabric so it wasn't dragging on the ground and stepped up onto the gangplank when a soft mewl got her attention. Pausing, she looked around for the sound and again, the mewling let her know there was an animal near. She stepped back to look around and saw a set of glowing eyes staring up at her from beneath the gangplank. Whiskers and a pink nose peaked out into the dim light and the cat mewled again. She glanced up at the boat and remembered the rats and crouched down to coax the cat out. somewhere one of the Gods was with her. At least she had that going for her. The cat wouldn't budge from beneath the plank, nor did she seem to protest when Thalia got close enough to drag her out from beneath her temporary hiding spot and tuck her into the blanket. She hastened up the gangplank after that and slipped downstairs into the cabin she'd stayed in for the past two nights.
Closing the door, she set the cat down and went to close the window that was left open. She considered lighting the lamp but didn't want to draw attention to the boat, so she left it dark in the room. As far as she was concerned, she was done for the night as it was. So, still wrapped up in the heavy drape, she laid down on top of the primitive bed and finally breathed a sigh of relief. It was nice to be where no one knew where she was....even if for a little bit, she could hide away and the rocking of the boat and the silence therein was calming. The cat she'd collected mewled a few times, but set about exploring the room before jumping up onto the bed and curled up near her feet. She stared down at the grey and black tabby. Its fur was scraggly and wet and she looked about as miserable as she was. Perhaps they would be great friends. Either way, if the creature wanted to eat, she'd have to hunt for her food.
She fell asleep staring at the cat, who incidentally, fell asleep being stared at. And not even the early light of the morning woke her as she'd not had a decent nights sleep since being taken.
The sheer glee that twisted his features because of how she fought was infuriating. When the collar struck true, she could have crowed as it drew blood, but she was still far too shaken. He gave her a slow, knowing smile that caused her to clench her jaw as he murmured "we'll see."
Oh, but if she had her blade.. she would happily run him through without a second thought. Just like his crew member. ....Well...to be fair, she thought of him often. She could still feel the way the blade sank into muscle and flesh; the way the blade crunched against bone and then the wetness of his blood as it soaked into her gown. ...No, she'd probably think about it again. ..But she'd force herself to remember it fondly.
After he stared at her for an indeterminable length of time, he finally stood and walked away; leaving here shaken and frustrated. Adrenalin pulsed through her body; feeding her fight or flight response. She didn't care where she went, she had to get out of this temple... away from him. Slowly, she stood back up. Her knees felt wobbly, and she slipped silently around the crates; her heart thudding heavily in her ears. She looked around a set of crates to check for him and found him sitting on his bed; nursing the bloody knot she'd leveled on him.
After some time, he plucked up a lamp and walked to the back of the temple; presumably to clean himself up. She flattened herself against the stack of crates until he passed and then plucked up a folded mass of fabric that she would later find out was a large drape for a window. With him gone, she hurried to the front of the temple and slipped out the open door into the rain.
The limestone steps were slippery and she shook the heavy fabric out to cover her head. Taking the steps carefully, she descended down the side of the hill; her breathing coming out in gasps and her heart racing. She glanced back once when she was halfway down to see if he followed and was relieved to find he hadn't. Her only problem was, she had no idea where she was going. she didn't know the village. She didn't even know what island they were on, or where. Part of her wanted to just get in a boat and start rowing; to hell with everything else. If she had to row all the way back to Athenia, she would. But that was...irrational to say the least.
She ended up unconsciously retracing her path from earlier in the day back to the dock and the harbor they'd arrived in. The air was humid and the bottom of her chiton was drenched with the moisture of the rain, but she slipped silently down to the main dock. It was empty now; a stark contrast to the bustle here earlier in the day. The crew must have been in the village doing whatever they did. The idea that a bunch of pirates could have families that they came home to was out of her realm of comprehension.
The water on the harbor was fairly calm, but she could see whitecaps in the distance beyond the safety of the port. There would be no rowing anywhere tonight. Instead, she went to the last place she'd thought she'd want to be. The ship she was dragged here on. Grumbling, she pulled up the fabric so it wasn't dragging on the ground and stepped up onto the gangplank when a soft mewl got her attention. Pausing, she looked around for the sound and again, the mewling let her know there was an animal near. She stepped back to look around and saw a set of glowing eyes staring up at her from beneath the gangplank. Whiskers and a pink nose peaked out into the dim light and the cat mewled again. She glanced up at the boat and remembered the rats and crouched down to coax the cat out. somewhere one of the Gods was with her. At least she had that going for her. The cat wouldn't budge from beneath the plank, nor did she seem to protest when Thalia got close enough to drag her out from beneath her temporary hiding spot and tuck her into the blanket. She hastened up the gangplank after that and slipped downstairs into the cabin she'd stayed in for the past two nights.
Closing the door, she set the cat down and went to close the window that was left open. She considered lighting the lamp but didn't want to draw attention to the boat, so she left it dark in the room. As far as she was concerned, she was done for the night as it was. So, still wrapped up in the heavy drape, she laid down on top of the primitive bed and finally breathed a sigh of relief. It was nice to be where no one knew where she was....even if for a little bit, she could hide away and the rocking of the boat and the silence therein was calming. The cat she'd collected mewled a few times, but set about exploring the room before jumping up onto the bed and curled up near her feet. She stared down at the grey and black tabby. Its fur was scraggly and wet and she looked about as miserable as she was. Perhaps they would be great friends. Either way, if the creature wanted to eat, she'd have to hunt for her food.
She fell asleep staring at the cat, who incidentally, fell asleep being stared at. And not even the early light of the morning woke her as she'd not had a decent nights sleep since being taken.
