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It had been her motto since she had been pulled from her village and shoved into the harsh world. And now, stuck in the cargo hold below the ship, she was sure that it was still true now. The weather raged on, tossing the cargo around. And this ship was mostly carrying human cargo, destined for shores in Greece and other areas. Slaves to be sold to the highest bidder, most of the ones in the cages were women.
Some as young and 13 years of age. The perfect age for indoctrination into a brothel.
Water was coming in from the portholes on the side of the ship, soaking them all to the skin. Their thin garments provided little protection from the storm, and it was all they could do to hang onto each other and not get tossed from against the steel bars. Olena tried to brace herself against the legs of another girl so that both could stay where they were. But it didn’t work, and both were fighting to stay grounded. She had heard the arguments of the captain of the ship, that the weather would hold as she was loaded on. But Poseidon must have felt that the ship was not worthy of safe passage.
Flashes of light, combined with the harsh rain and rolling thunder, meant that Zeus was in on the fury. Whatever the man had done to anger the Gods was going to kill them all. She was sure it was divine retribution, but would also claim the lives of all the innocent souls on board. Each clap of thunder caused the younger ones to scream, the noise above deck loud as the sailors tried to keep the ship afloat.
The ocean had always been a frightening place for her. It was an unknown monster that men tried to conquer and failed miserably at. The sea had brought the men who had decimated her village. Her maidenhead had been stolen by a pirate, forced by his captain to rape her to teach a lesson. The ocean had once again separated her from Dima, who had been taken from her. Her body had been tamed on a boat. And now, it seemed like she was going to the afterlife by way of the ocean.
Perhaps she would finally see her family. The ocean could bring her peace.
The entire ship lit up, followed by a resounding ‘crack’. In slow motion, the mast of the ship came crashing into the rest of the boat. The eerie silence that followed made it seem like time stood still. Wood splinted around them as the screams began, and yet Olena was silent. She would not meet her family with fear so close to her heart. No, death would be welcoming.
She hadn’t been able to tell how much time had passed or could decipher the chaos around them. But the distinct sound of keys opening locks filled the room. Nothing was said among the people, the obviousness of ‘every man for themselves’ was heavy in the air. And yet, Olena was too cold to do much of anything.
As the ship started to capsize, her resolve grew. Not to live, but to not let the ocean take her as violently as it seemed to want to. No, it could take everything from her, but she was going to let nature be the ending. With the dozen other girls, she jumped overboard, desperately searching for something to float on that was more than just splinters. As the storm raged, she clung to half a door, praying to live long enough for the storm ease.
Conscious and the cold fought a bitter battle, and at one point she woke to know that it was one she would be the loser in. But the sea was calming, and she was able to pull herself up onto the large piece of wood. The sun slowly started to come over the horizon, and Olena could have sworn she heard voices and the calming sound of water slapping onto the side of a vessel. Perhaps she had already crossed the river, and this was her family coming to bring her to a new home.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Fate was fickle.
It had been her motto since she had been pulled from her village and shoved into the harsh world. And now, stuck in the cargo hold below the ship, she was sure that it was still true now. The weather raged on, tossing the cargo around. And this ship was mostly carrying human cargo, destined for shores in Greece and other areas. Slaves to be sold to the highest bidder, most of the ones in the cages were women.
Some as young and 13 years of age. The perfect age for indoctrination into a brothel.
Water was coming in from the portholes on the side of the ship, soaking them all to the skin. Their thin garments provided little protection from the storm, and it was all they could do to hang onto each other and not get tossed from against the steel bars. Olena tried to brace herself against the legs of another girl so that both could stay where they were. But it didn’t work, and both were fighting to stay grounded. She had heard the arguments of the captain of the ship, that the weather would hold as she was loaded on. But Poseidon must have felt that the ship was not worthy of safe passage.
Flashes of light, combined with the harsh rain and rolling thunder, meant that Zeus was in on the fury. Whatever the man had done to anger the Gods was going to kill them all. She was sure it was divine retribution, but would also claim the lives of all the innocent souls on board. Each clap of thunder caused the younger ones to scream, the noise above deck loud as the sailors tried to keep the ship afloat.
The ocean had always been a frightening place for her. It was an unknown monster that men tried to conquer and failed miserably at. The sea had brought the men who had decimated her village. Her maidenhead had been stolen by a pirate, forced by his captain to rape her to teach a lesson. The ocean had once again separated her from Dima, who had been taken from her. Her body had been tamed on a boat. And now, it seemed like she was going to the afterlife by way of the ocean.
Perhaps she would finally see her family. The ocean could bring her peace.
The entire ship lit up, followed by a resounding ‘crack’. In slow motion, the mast of the ship came crashing into the rest of the boat. The eerie silence that followed made it seem like time stood still. Wood splinted around them as the screams began, and yet Olena was silent. She would not meet her family with fear so close to her heart. No, death would be welcoming.
She hadn’t been able to tell how much time had passed or could decipher the chaos around them. But the distinct sound of keys opening locks filled the room. Nothing was said among the people, the obviousness of ‘every man for themselves’ was heavy in the air. And yet, Olena was too cold to do much of anything.
As the ship started to capsize, her resolve grew. Not to live, but to not let the ocean take her as violently as it seemed to want to. No, it could take everything from her, but she was going to let nature be the ending. With the dozen other girls, she jumped overboard, desperately searching for something to float on that was more than just splinters. As the storm raged, she clung to half a door, praying to live long enough for the storm ease.
Conscious and the cold fought a bitter battle, and at one point she woke to know that it was one she would be the loser in. But the sea was calming, and she was able to pull herself up onto the large piece of wood. The sun slowly started to come over the horizon, and Olena could have sworn she heard voices and the calming sound of water slapping onto the side of a vessel. Perhaps she had already crossed the river, and this was her family coming to bring her to a new home.
Fate was fickle.
It had been her motto since she had been pulled from her village and shoved into the harsh world. And now, stuck in the cargo hold below the ship, she was sure that it was still true now. The weather raged on, tossing the cargo around. And this ship was mostly carrying human cargo, destined for shores in Greece and other areas. Slaves to be sold to the highest bidder, most of the ones in the cages were women.
Some as young and 13 years of age. The perfect age for indoctrination into a brothel.
Water was coming in from the portholes on the side of the ship, soaking them all to the skin. Their thin garments provided little protection from the storm, and it was all they could do to hang onto each other and not get tossed from against the steel bars. Olena tried to brace herself against the legs of another girl so that both could stay where they were. But it didn’t work, and both were fighting to stay grounded. She had heard the arguments of the captain of the ship, that the weather would hold as she was loaded on. But Poseidon must have felt that the ship was not worthy of safe passage.
Flashes of light, combined with the harsh rain and rolling thunder, meant that Zeus was in on the fury. Whatever the man had done to anger the Gods was going to kill them all. She was sure it was divine retribution, but would also claim the lives of all the innocent souls on board. Each clap of thunder caused the younger ones to scream, the noise above deck loud as the sailors tried to keep the ship afloat.
The ocean had always been a frightening place for her. It was an unknown monster that men tried to conquer and failed miserably at. The sea had brought the men who had decimated her village. Her maidenhead had been stolen by a pirate, forced by his captain to rape her to teach a lesson. The ocean had once again separated her from Dima, who had been taken from her. Her body had been tamed on a boat. And now, it seemed like she was going to the afterlife by way of the ocean.
Perhaps she would finally see her family. The ocean could bring her peace.
The entire ship lit up, followed by a resounding ‘crack’. In slow motion, the mast of the ship came crashing into the rest of the boat. The eerie silence that followed made it seem like time stood still. Wood splinted around them as the screams began, and yet Olena was silent. She would not meet her family with fear so close to her heart. No, death would be welcoming.
She hadn’t been able to tell how much time had passed or could decipher the chaos around them. But the distinct sound of keys opening locks filled the room. Nothing was said among the people, the obviousness of ‘every man for themselves’ was heavy in the air. And yet, Olena was too cold to do much of anything.
As the ship started to capsize, her resolve grew. Not to live, but to not let the ocean take her as violently as it seemed to want to. No, it could take everything from her, but she was going to let nature be the ending. With the dozen other girls, she jumped overboard, desperately searching for something to float on that was more than just splinters. As the storm raged, she clung to half a door, praying to live long enough for the storm ease.
Conscious and the cold fought a bitter battle, and at one point she woke to know that it was one she would be the loser in. But the sea was calming, and she was able to pull herself up onto the large piece of wood. The sun slowly started to come over the horizon, and Olena could have sworn she heard voices and the calming sound of water slapping onto the side of a vessel. Perhaps she had already crossed the river, and this was her family coming to bring her to a new home.
The night had brought the storm, and with the storm came the fear and the whispered prayers to Poseidon, then the shouted pleas for mercy. Esdras was not afraid, he had grown with a love of the sea, a desire to ride through the worst it could throw at him and the knowledge that one day his life would end on the sea. This storm would not be the end of them, all of the men aboard were faithful in their prayers and sacrifices and so as he fought through the wind and the rain with the rest, they were able to make it through the night.
When Helios began his slow journey through the sky, the sun peering over the horizon slowly in lazy response to the violence of the night, the crew began to take their rest in shifts. Their speed would slow for now to recover and tend to everything to make sure all was well before the sails were well and truly set loose once again. It was lucky that decision had been made as the debris floating on the horizon showed that not all other boats on the water had been blessed as their own.
Bodies were few, only one or two to be spotted amongst the wreckage with lifeless eyes staring at the sky. Most sank within the first few hours if they didn't all perish in the hold. Esdras kept a watchful eye with a few others for any signs of life or cargo that might hold value of some sort to be picked up and scavenged, and it was his gaze that caught sight of the woman in the waves. At first he thought the slight movements she managed were due to the motion of the sea, but unlike the others her eyes were closed, and as they drifted closer he thought he saw her blink.
He called out to a few of the others, tying a rope about his waist that they held fast. Most of them shook their heads, but if there was a chance she might be alive he would not be so cruel as to leave her to drown alone. Plunging into the water from the side of the ship, he propelled himself from the edge behind where she floated. Once again he saw her eyes move and waved a hand in the air as he took hold of the wood plank with the other.
"Draw in slow, she's alive."
Esdras held one arm around her and the plank to keep them from sinking, the other to the rope as his crewmates pulled them in. Only once they were at the edge of the ship did he release the plank, wrapping his arm around her tightly and settling her over his shoulder for a more secure grip as they were dragged up and over to the deck. Two of the sailors took her from his grasp and laid her on the deck, checking her pulse and for any injury as he hauled himself up the rest of the way, taking his place by her side as he waited to see if she would wake.
"Let's prepare a place below, she should get out of the sun."
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
The night had brought the storm, and with the storm came the fear and the whispered prayers to Poseidon, then the shouted pleas for mercy. Esdras was not afraid, he had grown with a love of the sea, a desire to ride through the worst it could throw at him and the knowledge that one day his life would end on the sea. This storm would not be the end of them, all of the men aboard were faithful in their prayers and sacrifices and so as he fought through the wind and the rain with the rest, they were able to make it through the night.
When Helios began his slow journey through the sky, the sun peering over the horizon slowly in lazy response to the violence of the night, the crew began to take their rest in shifts. Their speed would slow for now to recover and tend to everything to make sure all was well before the sails were well and truly set loose once again. It was lucky that decision had been made as the debris floating on the horizon showed that not all other boats on the water had been blessed as their own.
Bodies were few, only one or two to be spotted amongst the wreckage with lifeless eyes staring at the sky. Most sank within the first few hours if they didn't all perish in the hold. Esdras kept a watchful eye with a few others for any signs of life or cargo that might hold value of some sort to be picked up and scavenged, and it was his gaze that caught sight of the woman in the waves. At first he thought the slight movements she managed were due to the motion of the sea, but unlike the others her eyes were closed, and as they drifted closer he thought he saw her blink.
He called out to a few of the others, tying a rope about his waist that they held fast. Most of them shook their heads, but if there was a chance she might be alive he would not be so cruel as to leave her to drown alone. Plunging into the water from the side of the ship, he propelled himself from the edge behind where she floated. Once again he saw her eyes move and waved a hand in the air as he took hold of the wood plank with the other.
"Draw in slow, she's alive."
Esdras held one arm around her and the plank to keep them from sinking, the other to the rope as his crewmates pulled them in. Only once they were at the edge of the ship did he release the plank, wrapping his arm around her tightly and settling her over his shoulder for a more secure grip as they were dragged up and over to the deck. Two of the sailors took her from his grasp and laid her on the deck, checking her pulse and for any injury as he hauled himself up the rest of the way, taking his place by her side as he waited to see if she would wake.
"Let's prepare a place below, she should get out of the sun."
The night had brought the storm, and with the storm came the fear and the whispered prayers to Poseidon, then the shouted pleas for mercy. Esdras was not afraid, he had grown with a love of the sea, a desire to ride through the worst it could throw at him and the knowledge that one day his life would end on the sea. This storm would not be the end of them, all of the men aboard were faithful in their prayers and sacrifices and so as he fought through the wind and the rain with the rest, they were able to make it through the night.
When Helios began his slow journey through the sky, the sun peering over the horizon slowly in lazy response to the violence of the night, the crew began to take their rest in shifts. Their speed would slow for now to recover and tend to everything to make sure all was well before the sails were well and truly set loose once again. It was lucky that decision had been made as the debris floating on the horizon showed that not all other boats on the water had been blessed as their own.
Bodies were few, only one or two to be spotted amongst the wreckage with lifeless eyes staring at the sky. Most sank within the first few hours if they didn't all perish in the hold. Esdras kept a watchful eye with a few others for any signs of life or cargo that might hold value of some sort to be picked up and scavenged, and it was his gaze that caught sight of the woman in the waves. At first he thought the slight movements she managed were due to the motion of the sea, but unlike the others her eyes were closed, and as they drifted closer he thought he saw her blink.
He called out to a few of the others, tying a rope about his waist that they held fast. Most of them shook their heads, but if there was a chance she might be alive he would not be so cruel as to leave her to drown alone. Plunging into the water from the side of the ship, he propelled himself from the edge behind where she floated. Once again he saw her eyes move and waved a hand in the air as he took hold of the wood plank with the other.
"Draw in slow, she's alive."
Esdras held one arm around her and the plank to keep them from sinking, the other to the rope as his crewmates pulled them in. Only once they were at the edge of the ship did he release the plank, wrapping his arm around her tightly and settling her over his shoulder for a more secure grip as they were dragged up and over to the deck. Two of the sailors took her from his grasp and laid her on the deck, checking her pulse and for any injury as he hauled himself up the rest of the way, taking his place by her side as he waited to see if she would wake.
"Let's prepare a place below, she should get out of the sun."
The moment she was lifted from the board onto the deck, she let out a moan of pain. It was fairly obvious that the bones in her forearm were broken, from the odd angle in which the limb was pressed against her body. Dangerously cold, to the point of her body no longer being able to shiver, Olena wasn’t registered the pain her body was in. She wasn’t able to feel the severe, sharp pain that gripped her body with each shallow breathe.
She didn’t process the people touching her, nor did she fight them off. Her body was too spent to try, too cold to find the energy to do so. And she was too close to death to care anymore. If she stopped focusing on the hands on her skin, she could hear her mother’s laugh— a sound she was sure she’d forgotten.
At some point, she lost consciousness, so the pain that would have been felt as she was lifted from the deck and taken below was nonexistent. Skins of hot water were pressed into her armpits and into her groin. The wet gown was discarded, replaced by an oversized shirt. Her arm was set, placed between two sturdy pieces of wood and firmly wrapped in thick linen.
If she could be kept warm, Olena would make it through the day.
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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The moment she was lifted from the board onto the deck, she let out a moan of pain. It was fairly obvious that the bones in her forearm were broken, from the odd angle in which the limb was pressed against her body. Dangerously cold, to the point of her body no longer being able to shiver, Olena wasn’t registered the pain her body was in. She wasn’t able to feel the severe, sharp pain that gripped her body with each shallow breathe.
She didn’t process the people touching her, nor did she fight them off. Her body was too spent to try, too cold to find the energy to do so. And she was too close to death to care anymore. If she stopped focusing on the hands on her skin, she could hear her mother’s laugh— a sound she was sure she’d forgotten.
At some point, she lost consciousness, so the pain that would have been felt as she was lifted from the deck and taken below was nonexistent. Skins of hot water were pressed into her armpits and into her groin. The wet gown was discarded, replaced by an oversized shirt. Her arm was set, placed between two sturdy pieces of wood and firmly wrapped in thick linen.
If she could be kept warm, Olena would make it through the day.
The moment she was lifted from the board onto the deck, she let out a moan of pain. It was fairly obvious that the bones in her forearm were broken, from the odd angle in which the limb was pressed against her body. Dangerously cold, to the point of her body no longer being able to shiver, Olena wasn’t registered the pain her body was in. She wasn’t able to feel the severe, sharp pain that gripped her body with each shallow breathe.
She didn’t process the people touching her, nor did she fight them off. Her body was too spent to try, too cold to find the energy to do so. And she was too close to death to care anymore. If she stopped focusing on the hands on her skin, she could hear her mother’s laugh— a sound she was sure she’d forgotten.
At some point, she lost consciousness, so the pain that would have been felt as she was lifted from the deck and taken below was nonexistent. Skins of hot water were pressed into her armpits and into her groin. The wet gown was discarded, replaced by an oversized shirt. Her arm was set, placed between two sturdy pieces of wood and firmly wrapped in thick linen.
If she could be kept warm, Olena would make it through the day.
If the way she looked was any indication there was no time for gentleness in this moment. Instead of waiting any longer for some sort of plank to carry her to avoid jostling any bones, Esdras lifted her from the deck and carried her below. There were no real cabin spaces but his own sleeping mat was in a corner out of the way of the others. It was his tunic that took the place of her soaked shift and he let one of the men with more medical experience than himself set her arm, the skeins of water applied to try to raise her temperature once more.
There were a few of them who took it in shifts to sit with her so she wouldn't be confused when she woke and accidentally injure herself more than had already been done. After settling her down below he went back to work on retrieving the few bits of cargo from the water that were salvageable. Something he'd never understood is why as a sailor he could swim was such a rarity. He loved the feeling of being in the water, buoyed and tugged by the waves and surrounded by the power of the sea. It had given him a focus when he had been younger, alone and left to his own devices he had taught himself how to survive after one accident where he nearly hadn't.
When his shift was over, he shook the water from his damp black hair before starting below. The satchel that held his few things, including the only dry tunic he had left now that she was wearing one of his, was situated by the mat. Since she appeared still to be unconscious, though with far more color than she had before, Esdras stripped off the damp cloth that he'd been using as a towel, rummaging through his satchel without any shame in his nakedness until he found the tunic and drew it over his head.
A slight shift in her movement drew his attention, and he laid a hand across her forehead and then cheeks to check her temperature, giving a satisfied nod that she felt more human than she had before. One of the younger men on board had arrived with new skins to change out the old, and Esdras helped him situate them under her arms, being careful with the broken one, and groin. As long as her core remained warm, all would be well, though he reached slowly down one of her legs to check for any injury and then wrapped both of his hands around one of her feet, trying to draw some sort of heat back into them to avoid any loss of circulation.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
If the way she looked was any indication there was no time for gentleness in this moment. Instead of waiting any longer for some sort of plank to carry her to avoid jostling any bones, Esdras lifted her from the deck and carried her below. There were no real cabin spaces but his own sleeping mat was in a corner out of the way of the others. It was his tunic that took the place of her soaked shift and he let one of the men with more medical experience than himself set her arm, the skeins of water applied to try to raise her temperature once more.
There were a few of them who took it in shifts to sit with her so she wouldn't be confused when she woke and accidentally injure herself more than had already been done. After settling her down below he went back to work on retrieving the few bits of cargo from the water that were salvageable. Something he'd never understood is why as a sailor he could swim was such a rarity. He loved the feeling of being in the water, buoyed and tugged by the waves and surrounded by the power of the sea. It had given him a focus when he had been younger, alone and left to his own devices he had taught himself how to survive after one accident where he nearly hadn't.
When his shift was over, he shook the water from his damp black hair before starting below. The satchel that held his few things, including the only dry tunic he had left now that she was wearing one of his, was situated by the mat. Since she appeared still to be unconscious, though with far more color than she had before, Esdras stripped off the damp cloth that he'd been using as a towel, rummaging through his satchel without any shame in his nakedness until he found the tunic and drew it over his head.
A slight shift in her movement drew his attention, and he laid a hand across her forehead and then cheeks to check her temperature, giving a satisfied nod that she felt more human than she had before. One of the younger men on board had arrived with new skins to change out the old, and Esdras helped him situate them under her arms, being careful with the broken one, and groin. As long as her core remained warm, all would be well, though he reached slowly down one of her legs to check for any injury and then wrapped both of his hands around one of her feet, trying to draw some sort of heat back into them to avoid any loss of circulation.
If the way she looked was any indication there was no time for gentleness in this moment. Instead of waiting any longer for some sort of plank to carry her to avoid jostling any bones, Esdras lifted her from the deck and carried her below. There were no real cabin spaces but his own sleeping mat was in a corner out of the way of the others. It was his tunic that took the place of her soaked shift and he let one of the men with more medical experience than himself set her arm, the skeins of water applied to try to raise her temperature once more.
There were a few of them who took it in shifts to sit with her so she wouldn't be confused when she woke and accidentally injure herself more than had already been done. After settling her down below he went back to work on retrieving the few bits of cargo from the water that were salvageable. Something he'd never understood is why as a sailor he could swim was such a rarity. He loved the feeling of being in the water, buoyed and tugged by the waves and surrounded by the power of the sea. It had given him a focus when he had been younger, alone and left to his own devices he had taught himself how to survive after one accident where he nearly hadn't.
When his shift was over, he shook the water from his damp black hair before starting below. The satchel that held his few things, including the only dry tunic he had left now that she was wearing one of his, was situated by the mat. Since she appeared still to be unconscious, though with far more color than she had before, Esdras stripped off the damp cloth that he'd been using as a towel, rummaging through his satchel without any shame in his nakedness until he found the tunic and drew it over his head.
A slight shift in her movement drew his attention, and he laid a hand across her forehead and then cheeks to check her temperature, giving a satisfied nod that she felt more human than she had before. One of the younger men on board had arrived with new skins to change out the old, and Esdras helped him situate them under her arms, being careful with the broken one, and groin. As long as her core remained warm, all would be well, though he reached slowly down one of her legs to check for any injury and then wrapped both of his hands around one of her feet, trying to draw some sort of heat back into them to avoid any loss of circulation.
Consciousness avoided her for some time, bouncing between the horrors of the ship and the joy of being with her family again. It wasn’t if she was on the brink of death, but her mind was taking her away from the pain, in various ways. It was difficult to tell how long she was unconscious, or if she would ever wake up.
It must have been after the new bladders of hot water was added in which she stirred a bit. The pain ripped through her, causing her to let out a cry. Fighting against the pain, she lost before she sank back into unconsciousness again.
A few hours later, once night had fallen, she moaned again, but this time it wasn’t so bad that she couldn’t push through it to open her eyes. The bright green irises seemed free of any haze, so she probably wasn’t infectious. Still, weak and a little cold, she shivered. Her surroundings were confusing, not the ship she had been on before all this happened. The cage was gone, instead of laying on a soft mat in corner of the ship. The seas were calmer, the rocking enough to almost put her back to sleep. As she tried to shift her body, she moaned again.
She took a moment, trying to assess her body. The majority of the pain was coming to her arm, which was immobilized within some contraption to protect it from moving. She tried to wiggle her fingers, but the pain stopped her. Broken, but she’d experienced a similar injury before. Wiggling her toes, there was an ache, but not to the degree of her arm. She couldn’t see the bruises that covered her body, nor the scrapes from the destruction.
Looking around, she noticed a man sitting next to her. She tried to sit up but would require assistance to move because of her inability to put pressure on her arm. The swear that escaped her lips as she tried was in a foreign tongue, one he probably wouldn’t recognize. “What happened?” She asked him, hoping that he would step in and get her off her back.
Being on her back in an unfamiliar place felt nerve-wracking. Dangerous.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Consciousness avoided her for some time, bouncing between the horrors of the ship and the joy of being with her family again. It wasn’t if she was on the brink of death, but her mind was taking her away from the pain, in various ways. It was difficult to tell how long she was unconscious, or if she would ever wake up.
It must have been after the new bladders of hot water was added in which she stirred a bit. The pain ripped through her, causing her to let out a cry. Fighting against the pain, she lost before she sank back into unconsciousness again.
A few hours later, once night had fallen, she moaned again, but this time it wasn’t so bad that she couldn’t push through it to open her eyes. The bright green irises seemed free of any haze, so she probably wasn’t infectious. Still, weak and a little cold, she shivered. Her surroundings were confusing, not the ship she had been on before all this happened. The cage was gone, instead of laying on a soft mat in corner of the ship. The seas were calmer, the rocking enough to almost put her back to sleep. As she tried to shift her body, she moaned again.
She took a moment, trying to assess her body. The majority of the pain was coming to her arm, which was immobilized within some contraption to protect it from moving. She tried to wiggle her fingers, but the pain stopped her. Broken, but she’d experienced a similar injury before. Wiggling her toes, there was an ache, but not to the degree of her arm. She couldn’t see the bruises that covered her body, nor the scrapes from the destruction.
Looking around, she noticed a man sitting next to her. She tried to sit up but would require assistance to move because of her inability to put pressure on her arm. The swear that escaped her lips as she tried was in a foreign tongue, one he probably wouldn’t recognize. “What happened?” She asked him, hoping that he would step in and get her off her back.
Being on her back in an unfamiliar place felt nerve-wracking. Dangerous.
Consciousness avoided her for some time, bouncing between the horrors of the ship and the joy of being with her family again. It wasn’t if she was on the brink of death, but her mind was taking her away from the pain, in various ways. It was difficult to tell how long she was unconscious, or if she would ever wake up.
It must have been after the new bladders of hot water was added in which she stirred a bit. The pain ripped through her, causing her to let out a cry. Fighting against the pain, she lost before she sank back into unconsciousness again.
A few hours later, once night had fallen, she moaned again, but this time it wasn’t so bad that she couldn’t push through it to open her eyes. The bright green irises seemed free of any haze, so she probably wasn’t infectious. Still, weak and a little cold, she shivered. Her surroundings were confusing, not the ship she had been on before all this happened. The cage was gone, instead of laying on a soft mat in corner of the ship. The seas were calmer, the rocking enough to almost put her back to sleep. As she tried to shift her body, she moaned again.
She took a moment, trying to assess her body. The majority of the pain was coming to her arm, which was immobilized within some contraption to protect it from moving. She tried to wiggle her fingers, but the pain stopped her. Broken, but she’d experienced a similar injury before. Wiggling her toes, there was an ache, but not to the degree of her arm. She couldn’t see the bruises that covered her body, nor the scrapes from the destruction.
Looking around, she noticed a man sitting next to her. She tried to sit up but would require assistance to move because of her inability to put pressure on her arm. The swear that escaped her lips as she tried was in a foreign tongue, one he probably wouldn’t recognize. “What happened?” She asked him, hoping that he would step in and get her off her back.
Being on her back in an unfamiliar place felt nerve-wracking. Dangerous.
After ensuring that she was slowly returning to normal body heat and tucking an extra blanket over top the skins that were aiding her, Esdras settled into his place beside her with mending that needed done. With a bone needle and thread he was repairing a patch in his tunic when she finally returned to consciousness. He allowed her to move and test out all of her functions, remaining quiet as he finished his task before setting it aside and turning to meet her gaze as she spoke. For someone who had undoubtedly gone through a good deal of trauma she was handling it shockingly well.
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he leaned over, placing a hand on her forehead and then her cheek to check her temperature before he replied. The skins would no doubt still need to be replaced a few times more as she rested, just to allow any signs of weakness and illness to burn away, but for now it seemed she was out of any immediate danger.
"I can't speak to what happened before we found you. But it appears your ship went down. You were the only one we picked up."
Her first words had been in a tongue he wasn't familiar with, the many places he'd traveled all had their own varying languages but this one was different. Perhaps she came from a place that was not by the sea, or somewhere he had yet to visit. The thought of that was intriguing, going somewhere he hadn't been aware of before was always high on his list of desires and if all of the women from her country were as beautiful as she it was even more a pressing wish to visit. Red hair was rare around here, especially in such a vibrant shade as hers. Based on how they found her, he had no doubt that she was a slave or some sort of kept woman used for pleasure. With that face and body he couldn't imagine anyone wanting to keep her in a kitchen somewhere.
"What is your name?"
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After ensuring that she was slowly returning to normal body heat and tucking an extra blanket over top the skins that were aiding her, Esdras settled into his place beside her with mending that needed done. With a bone needle and thread he was repairing a patch in his tunic when she finally returned to consciousness. He allowed her to move and test out all of her functions, remaining quiet as he finished his task before setting it aside and turning to meet her gaze as she spoke. For someone who had undoubtedly gone through a good deal of trauma she was handling it shockingly well.
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he leaned over, placing a hand on her forehead and then her cheek to check her temperature before he replied. The skins would no doubt still need to be replaced a few times more as she rested, just to allow any signs of weakness and illness to burn away, but for now it seemed she was out of any immediate danger.
"I can't speak to what happened before we found you. But it appears your ship went down. You were the only one we picked up."
Her first words had been in a tongue he wasn't familiar with, the many places he'd traveled all had their own varying languages but this one was different. Perhaps she came from a place that was not by the sea, or somewhere he had yet to visit. The thought of that was intriguing, going somewhere he hadn't been aware of before was always high on his list of desires and if all of the women from her country were as beautiful as she it was even more a pressing wish to visit. Red hair was rare around here, especially in such a vibrant shade as hers. Based on how they found her, he had no doubt that she was a slave or some sort of kept woman used for pleasure. With that face and body he couldn't imagine anyone wanting to keep her in a kitchen somewhere.
"What is your name?"
After ensuring that she was slowly returning to normal body heat and tucking an extra blanket over top the skins that were aiding her, Esdras settled into his place beside her with mending that needed done. With a bone needle and thread he was repairing a patch in his tunic when she finally returned to consciousness. He allowed her to move and test out all of her functions, remaining quiet as he finished his task before setting it aside and turning to meet her gaze as she spoke. For someone who had undoubtedly gone through a good deal of trauma she was handling it shockingly well.
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he leaned over, placing a hand on her forehead and then her cheek to check her temperature before he replied. The skins would no doubt still need to be replaced a few times more as she rested, just to allow any signs of weakness and illness to burn away, but for now it seemed she was out of any immediate danger.
"I can't speak to what happened before we found you. But it appears your ship went down. You were the only one we picked up."
Her first words had been in a tongue he wasn't familiar with, the many places he'd traveled all had their own varying languages but this one was different. Perhaps she came from a place that was not by the sea, or somewhere he had yet to visit. The thought of that was intriguing, going somewhere he hadn't been aware of before was always high on his list of desires and if all of the women from her country were as beautiful as she it was even more a pressing wish to visit. Red hair was rare around here, especially in such a vibrant shade as hers. Based on how they found her, he had no doubt that she was a slave or some sort of kept woman used for pleasure. With that face and body he couldn't imagine anyone wanting to keep her in a kitchen somewhere.
"What is your name?"
Olena’s vision took a moment to clear, her eyes focusing on him as she tried to place herself. It made sense, then, the rocking beneath her and the candlelit darkness around her. As soon as his hand came to her, she flinched a bit, trying to pull back away from him. But as it settled onto her forehead, she relaxed a bit. The gesture was meant in kindness, to check her well being, and yet she pulled away.
A reaction from years of violence and men raising their hands at her.
His answer brought the reality crashing back on her. The storm, the girls who had been shoved into one cage with little hope of survival… She took a minute to mourn their loss, to remember how fate seemed to want her to continue through life alone, with no mercy in her death. She wanted to be angry, wanted to curse the Gods for once again sparing her from a welcomed death. But she couldn’t blame him, not when he had just been the one who stumbled upon the ship. ”The storm.” She said softly, her accent a bit thicker from emotions. ”I do not know where we were traveling, but the ship must have been destroyed.” She shook her head, unable to brush the tear that fell from her eye.
She wanted to grieve but didn’t know the names of those who had died. How could you offer up prayers to the nameless?
He questioned her name, and for the briefest of moments, she hesitated in giving it to him. But there was no reason to lie to her-- it wasn’t like he would know of her. “Olena. My name is Olena.” Her head was starting to ache with all the information. “Where are we going?” She asked as if she might know the location.
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Olena’s vision took a moment to clear, her eyes focusing on him as she tried to place herself. It made sense, then, the rocking beneath her and the candlelit darkness around her. As soon as his hand came to her, she flinched a bit, trying to pull back away from him. But as it settled onto her forehead, she relaxed a bit. The gesture was meant in kindness, to check her well being, and yet she pulled away.
A reaction from years of violence and men raising their hands at her.
His answer brought the reality crashing back on her. The storm, the girls who had been shoved into one cage with little hope of survival… She took a minute to mourn their loss, to remember how fate seemed to want her to continue through life alone, with no mercy in her death. She wanted to be angry, wanted to curse the Gods for once again sparing her from a welcomed death. But she couldn’t blame him, not when he had just been the one who stumbled upon the ship. ”The storm.” She said softly, her accent a bit thicker from emotions. ”I do not know where we were traveling, but the ship must have been destroyed.” She shook her head, unable to brush the tear that fell from her eye.
She wanted to grieve but didn’t know the names of those who had died. How could you offer up prayers to the nameless?
He questioned her name, and for the briefest of moments, she hesitated in giving it to him. But there was no reason to lie to her-- it wasn’t like he would know of her. “Olena. My name is Olena.” Her head was starting to ache with all the information. “Where are we going?” She asked as if she might know the location.
Olena’s vision took a moment to clear, her eyes focusing on him as she tried to place herself. It made sense, then, the rocking beneath her and the candlelit darkness around her. As soon as his hand came to her, she flinched a bit, trying to pull back away from him. But as it settled onto her forehead, she relaxed a bit. The gesture was meant in kindness, to check her well being, and yet she pulled away.
A reaction from years of violence and men raising their hands at her.
His answer brought the reality crashing back on her. The storm, the girls who had been shoved into one cage with little hope of survival… She took a minute to mourn their loss, to remember how fate seemed to want her to continue through life alone, with no mercy in her death. She wanted to be angry, wanted to curse the Gods for once again sparing her from a welcomed death. But she couldn’t blame him, not when he had just been the one who stumbled upon the ship. ”The storm.” She said softly, her accent a bit thicker from emotions. ”I do not know where we were traveling, but the ship must have been destroyed.” She shook her head, unable to brush the tear that fell from her eye.
She wanted to grieve but didn’t know the names of those who had died. How could you offer up prayers to the nameless?
He questioned her name, and for the briefest of moments, she hesitated in giving it to him. But there was no reason to lie to her-- it wasn’t like he would know of her. “Olena. My name is Olena.” Her head was starting to ache with all the information. “Where are we going?” She asked as if she might know the location.
“Aye.” He noticed her flinch even as he worked to keep his touch gentle. Her reactions confirmed the suspicions he held, the ship had been carrying slaves and it seemed somehow she was the luckiest of them all to have survived, even in such a state. Some gods had shone a blessing down on her. Esdras lifted his hand away from her forehead, satisfied that her temperature was finally warm and normal for a human instead of closer to that of a corpse, reaching for his tunic once more to continue his mending.
“Olena. I’m Esdras, you’re aboard a ship headed to Colchis. Midas port is our first stop. We won’t remain for long, we’re on to Taengea from there.” The man turned to her for a moment, a question in his gaze. If she was a slave, where did she belong? Was there a family for her to be returned to, or an old master, perhaps she could fetch a price that would allow him to finally purchase his own ship, pay for a crew. Slavery had never been something he had considered properly, it was simply part of life in the world that they all lived in. He didn’t know what it would be like to sell one person, trade her for the highest bidder. Certainly in the condition she was in there would be little value. She would need to recover first.
Sitting in silence for a long moment until he could tie off the stitching, he pulled the tunic back over his head to cover himself properly and turned to look at her. Her face aside from the fresh injuries and mistreatment of the water was pristine, but he could see, had seen beneath the cloth, that she was marred with scars from a past. He could never give another person back over to that sort of treatment. No, if she was to be sold or traded elsewhere it would have to be to a people that would treat her with respect. A whorehouse would give him the highest price, with her hair and her accent, but if her body was a map of her history, she had been through enough.
“Is there anyone expecting you? A place to return you to?”
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This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
“Aye.” He noticed her flinch even as he worked to keep his touch gentle. Her reactions confirmed the suspicions he held, the ship had been carrying slaves and it seemed somehow she was the luckiest of them all to have survived, even in such a state. Some gods had shone a blessing down on her. Esdras lifted his hand away from her forehead, satisfied that her temperature was finally warm and normal for a human instead of closer to that of a corpse, reaching for his tunic once more to continue his mending.
“Olena. I’m Esdras, you’re aboard a ship headed to Colchis. Midas port is our first stop. We won’t remain for long, we’re on to Taengea from there.” The man turned to her for a moment, a question in his gaze. If she was a slave, where did she belong? Was there a family for her to be returned to, or an old master, perhaps she could fetch a price that would allow him to finally purchase his own ship, pay for a crew. Slavery had never been something he had considered properly, it was simply part of life in the world that they all lived in. He didn’t know what it would be like to sell one person, trade her for the highest bidder. Certainly in the condition she was in there would be little value. She would need to recover first.
Sitting in silence for a long moment until he could tie off the stitching, he pulled the tunic back over his head to cover himself properly and turned to look at her. Her face aside from the fresh injuries and mistreatment of the water was pristine, but he could see, had seen beneath the cloth, that she was marred with scars from a past. He could never give another person back over to that sort of treatment. No, if she was to be sold or traded elsewhere it would have to be to a people that would treat her with respect. A whorehouse would give him the highest price, with her hair and her accent, but if her body was a map of her history, she had been through enough.
“Is there anyone expecting you? A place to return you to?”
“Aye.” He noticed her flinch even as he worked to keep his touch gentle. Her reactions confirmed the suspicions he held, the ship had been carrying slaves and it seemed somehow she was the luckiest of them all to have survived, even in such a state. Some gods had shone a blessing down on her. Esdras lifted his hand away from her forehead, satisfied that her temperature was finally warm and normal for a human instead of closer to that of a corpse, reaching for his tunic once more to continue his mending.
“Olena. I’m Esdras, you’re aboard a ship headed to Colchis. Midas port is our first stop. We won’t remain for long, we’re on to Taengea from there.” The man turned to her for a moment, a question in his gaze. If she was a slave, where did she belong? Was there a family for her to be returned to, or an old master, perhaps she could fetch a price that would allow him to finally purchase his own ship, pay for a crew. Slavery had never been something he had considered properly, it was simply part of life in the world that they all lived in. He didn’t know what it would be like to sell one person, trade her for the highest bidder. Certainly in the condition she was in there would be little value. She would need to recover first.
Sitting in silence for a long moment until he could tie off the stitching, he pulled the tunic back over his head to cover himself properly and turned to look at her. Her face aside from the fresh injuries and mistreatment of the water was pristine, but he could see, had seen beneath the cloth, that she was marred with scars from a past. He could never give another person back over to that sort of treatment. No, if she was to be sold or traded elsewhere it would have to be to a people that would treat her with respect. A whorehouse would give him the highest price, with her hair and her accent, but if her body was a map of her history, she had been through enough.
“Is there anyone expecting you? A place to return you to?”
It hadn’t always been bad for her. There were two times in her adult life where she had actually enjoyed life and all it had to offer. When she played the concubine to a senator another world away, she had been given the life of luxury. Allowed to do what she wished, allowed to take up hobbies and to have friends, Olena had been able to learn needlepoint. And she had become more than a student-- her work was envied for its precision and mastery. After his death, she had a brief time of depression but was quickly discovered by her sister. And in her sister company, she had been given even more freedom.
The last year was hell, numbed by drugs to help her forget that her sister was dead. Bought and sold several times over, her debt skyrocketing each time. And then, when all seemed lost, the ship was destroyed and her debt when with it.
Olena had heard of Colchis, of Midas. And she was sure that the Taegnea had been where she had been first bought, in a market filled with men who stared at a 14-year-old girl like a piece of meat. She shuddered at the idea of returning to that land, of having to step foot where she had last seen Dmytros. She didn’t want to see his ghost there, for she was sure that she would the moment she stepped off the vessel. She didn’t know if she could handle that, not when her mind felt so fragile already.
In the silence he provided, she selfishly tried to age the 14-year-old boy she had once loved. Would he have stayed thin, like his brother? Or had he filled out with age and muscle to grow large? They had once been close to the same height. As an adult, would he have towered over her petite frame? In all honesty, she had hoped that he had died long ago, freed from the suffered that her and her sister had experienced. There had been a time, when she was newly 20 and burning with a whore’s fever, that he came to her. It was in that moment that she was sure he was dead, for her fever had passed shortly after that.
Perhaps he was her guardian, watching over her. And while he may not have done the best job in the last year, it seemed that this was the first truly positive thing to happen to her.
His question brought her out of her train of thought. Did she have somewhere to go? Someone waiting for her? Could she lie? Say that she had someone in Midas who would look after her? What would she do once she did? How could she function, with no money, no safety and no home? Instead, she shook her head, “I am not sure what our destination was, but my current owner was on that ship. So I suppose I am unowned at the moment.” Even debt free, what difference would it make?
Her debt was gone. But she had no money, and wouldn’t have any way of making any without reverting back to the life she had before. Olena would end up back at a brothel, only for the fact that she would have nowhere else to go. She couldn’t keep her face blank as the realization hit her.
She was going to have to continue to be a whore.
“You could return me to my home country, but I have no one there either, for the village was burned and most of the people killed. So I would imagine that where you leave me is up to you.” She tried to move, grimacing due to the pain.
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It hadn’t always been bad for her. There were two times in her adult life where she had actually enjoyed life and all it had to offer. When she played the concubine to a senator another world away, she had been given the life of luxury. Allowed to do what she wished, allowed to take up hobbies and to have friends, Olena had been able to learn needlepoint. And she had become more than a student-- her work was envied for its precision and mastery. After his death, she had a brief time of depression but was quickly discovered by her sister. And in her sister company, she had been given even more freedom.
The last year was hell, numbed by drugs to help her forget that her sister was dead. Bought and sold several times over, her debt skyrocketing each time. And then, when all seemed lost, the ship was destroyed and her debt when with it.
Olena had heard of Colchis, of Midas. And she was sure that the Taegnea had been where she had been first bought, in a market filled with men who stared at a 14-year-old girl like a piece of meat. She shuddered at the idea of returning to that land, of having to step foot where she had last seen Dmytros. She didn’t want to see his ghost there, for she was sure that she would the moment she stepped off the vessel. She didn’t know if she could handle that, not when her mind felt so fragile already.
In the silence he provided, she selfishly tried to age the 14-year-old boy she had once loved. Would he have stayed thin, like his brother? Or had he filled out with age and muscle to grow large? They had once been close to the same height. As an adult, would he have towered over her petite frame? In all honesty, she had hoped that he had died long ago, freed from the suffered that her and her sister had experienced. There had been a time, when she was newly 20 and burning with a whore’s fever, that he came to her. It was in that moment that she was sure he was dead, for her fever had passed shortly after that.
Perhaps he was her guardian, watching over her. And while he may not have done the best job in the last year, it seemed that this was the first truly positive thing to happen to her.
His question brought her out of her train of thought. Did she have somewhere to go? Someone waiting for her? Could she lie? Say that she had someone in Midas who would look after her? What would she do once she did? How could she function, with no money, no safety and no home? Instead, she shook her head, “I am not sure what our destination was, but my current owner was on that ship. So I suppose I am unowned at the moment.” Even debt free, what difference would it make?
Her debt was gone. But she had no money, and wouldn’t have any way of making any without reverting back to the life she had before. Olena would end up back at a brothel, only for the fact that she would have nowhere else to go. She couldn’t keep her face blank as the realization hit her.
She was going to have to continue to be a whore.
“You could return me to my home country, but I have no one there either, for the village was burned and most of the people killed. So I would imagine that where you leave me is up to you.” She tried to move, grimacing due to the pain.
It hadn’t always been bad for her. There were two times in her adult life where she had actually enjoyed life and all it had to offer. When she played the concubine to a senator another world away, she had been given the life of luxury. Allowed to do what she wished, allowed to take up hobbies and to have friends, Olena had been able to learn needlepoint. And she had become more than a student-- her work was envied for its precision and mastery. After his death, she had a brief time of depression but was quickly discovered by her sister. And in her sister company, she had been given even more freedom.
The last year was hell, numbed by drugs to help her forget that her sister was dead. Bought and sold several times over, her debt skyrocketing each time. And then, when all seemed lost, the ship was destroyed and her debt when with it.
Olena had heard of Colchis, of Midas. And she was sure that the Taegnea had been where she had been first bought, in a market filled with men who stared at a 14-year-old girl like a piece of meat. She shuddered at the idea of returning to that land, of having to step foot where she had last seen Dmytros. She didn’t want to see his ghost there, for she was sure that she would the moment she stepped off the vessel. She didn’t know if she could handle that, not when her mind felt so fragile already.
In the silence he provided, she selfishly tried to age the 14-year-old boy she had once loved. Would he have stayed thin, like his brother? Or had he filled out with age and muscle to grow large? They had once been close to the same height. As an adult, would he have towered over her petite frame? In all honesty, she had hoped that he had died long ago, freed from the suffered that her and her sister had experienced. There had been a time, when she was newly 20 and burning with a whore’s fever, that he came to her. It was in that moment that she was sure he was dead, for her fever had passed shortly after that.
Perhaps he was her guardian, watching over her. And while he may not have done the best job in the last year, it seemed that this was the first truly positive thing to happen to her.
His question brought her out of her train of thought. Did she have somewhere to go? Someone waiting for her? Could she lie? Say that she had someone in Midas who would look after her? What would she do once she did? How could she function, with no money, no safety and no home? Instead, she shook her head, “I am not sure what our destination was, but my current owner was on that ship. So I suppose I am unowned at the moment.” Even debt free, what difference would it make?
Her debt was gone. But she had no money, and wouldn’t have any way of making any without reverting back to the life she had before. Olena would end up back at a brothel, only for the fact that she would have nowhere else to go. She couldn’t keep her face blank as the realization hit her.
She was going to have to continue to be a whore.
“You could return me to my home country, but I have no one there either, for the village was burned and most of the people killed. So I would imagine that where you leave me is up to you.” She tried to move, grimacing due to the pain.
He allowed her to ponder, remaining in silence as he waited for a response though he expected the one he got. If her owner had been aboard the ship, she was effectively freed. But there was the trouble of living, he had no desire to just leave her in the nearest port in essence destitute with nowhere to turn but a brothel or worse the mercy of the men by the docks. No, after what this woman had survived, what she alone had managed to escape was to him a sign from the gods that she deserved better. An escape from what she had been through before.
Humming slightly under his breath, Esdras looked down at her and watched as she struggled to sit up, frowning and reaching out to assist her in her movements. His touch was firm, not one of seduction for once but of aid as he guided her into the position she seemed to seek. He was loath to let her move much, when they truly didn’t know the full extent of her injuries, but keeping her immobile wouldn’t help either. As soon as he felt he could, he released her and immediately settled back on his side of the cot, allowing her space as he thought. The tale of her village was saddening, and he frowned as he considered the options available to them.
If she had any particular skills, she could sell those or find a home to serve, or she could pledge herself to a temple. The temple might be the best bet for one such as her, so long as she avoided that of Aphrodite. Esdras had been there many times himself and as tempting as she was, he hated the scars on her back and had no desire to add to them even by proxy. Another good choice was to sell her on the market instead of at auction, bargain a low enough price that she could eventually pay it off and continue to work as a servant instead of a slave until she had enough to do what she wished.
“What sorts of things do you do? Are you a particularly good cook or do you sing?” The questions came somewhat out of the blue, after all they still had nearly a week to Colchis and there was plenty of time to consider their next move. “I would simply release you, but if you have no one it might be best for you to join a temple. Or find someone who would allow you to work off your debt. Or….there are no doubt not a few men who would be happy to keep you as a shore wife.”
Esdras was counting himself among one of those willing, she was beautiful even now in pain and he could only imagine what she would look like once she was dressed well, clean and well fed. Quite a few sailors kept mistresses in various ports, shore wives to come home to that could be anything from a real wife to a glorified whore.
JD
Staff Team
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This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
He allowed her to ponder, remaining in silence as he waited for a response though he expected the one he got. If her owner had been aboard the ship, she was effectively freed. But there was the trouble of living, he had no desire to just leave her in the nearest port in essence destitute with nowhere to turn but a brothel or worse the mercy of the men by the docks. No, after what this woman had survived, what she alone had managed to escape was to him a sign from the gods that she deserved better. An escape from what she had been through before.
Humming slightly under his breath, Esdras looked down at her and watched as she struggled to sit up, frowning and reaching out to assist her in her movements. His touch was firm, not one of seduction for once but of aid as he guided her into the position she seemed to seek. He was loath to let her move much, when they truly didn’t know the full extent of her injuries, but keeping her immobile wouldn’t help either. As soon as he felt he could, he released her and immediately settled back on his side of the cot, allowing her space as he thought. The tale of her village was saddening, and he frowned as he considered the options available to them.
If she had any particular skills, she could sell those or find a home to serve, or she could pledge herself to a temple. The temple might be the best bet for one such as her, so long as she avoided that of Aphrodite. Esdras had been there many times himself and as tempting as she was, he hated the scars on her back and had no desire to add to them even by proxy. Another good choice was to sell her on the market instead of at auction, bargain a low enough price that she could eventually pay it off and continue to work as a servant instead of a slave until she had enough to do what she wished.
“What sorts of things do you do? Are you a particularly good cook or do you sing?” The questions came somewhat out of the blue, after all they still had nearly a week to Colchis and there was plenty of time to consider their next move. “I would simply release you, but if you have no one it might be best for you to join a temple. Or find someone who would allow you to work off your debt. Or….there are no doubt not a few men who would be happy to keep you as a shore wife.”
Esdras was counting himself among one of those willing, she was beautiful even now in pain and he could only imagine what she would look like once she was dressed well, clean and well fed. Quite a few sailors kept mistresses in various ports, shore wives to come home to that could be anything from a real wife to a glorified whore.
He allowed her to ponder, remaining in silence as he waited for a response though he expected the one he got. If her owner had been aboard the ship, she was effectively freed. But there was the trouble of living, he had no desire to just leave her in the nearest port in essence destitute with nowhere to turn but a brothel or worse the mercy of the men by the docks. No, after what this woman had survived, what she alone had managed to escape was to him a sign from the gods that she deserved better. An escape from what she had been through before.
Humming slightly under his breath, Esdras looked down at her and watched as she struggled to sit up, frowning and reaching out to assist her in her movements. His touch was firm, not one of seduction for once but of aid as he guided her into the position she seemed to seek. He was loath to let her move much, when they truly didn’t know the full extent of her injuries, but keeping her immobile wouldn’t help either. As soon as he felt he could, he released her and immediately settled back on his side of the cot, allowing her space as he thought. The tale of her village was saddening, and he frowned as he considered the options available to them.
If she had any particular skills, she could sell those or find a home to serve, or she could pledge herself to a temple. The temple might be the best bet for one such as her, so long as she avoided that of Aphrodite. Esdras had been there many times himself and as tempting as she was, he hated the scars on her back and had no desire to add to them even by proxy. Another good choice was to sell her on the market instead of at auction, bargain a low enough price that she could eventually pay it off and continue to work as a servant instead of a slave until she had enough to do what she wished.
“What sorts of things do you do? Are you a particularly good cook or do you sing?” The questions came somewhat out of the blue, after all they still had nearly a week to Colchis and there was plenty of time to consider their next move. “I would simply release you, but if you have no one it might be best for you to join a temple. Or find someone who would allow you to work off your debt. Or….there are no doubt not a few men who would be happy to keep you as a shore wife.”
Esdras was counting himself among one of those willing, she was beautiful even now in pain and he could only imagine what she would look like once she was dressed well, clean and well fed. Quite a few sailors kept mistresses in various ports, shore wives to come home to that could be anything from a real wife to a glorified whore.
Olena was frustrated overall. Her body ached greatly, each muscle protesting any effort to move. Even with his assistance, the movement was still incredibly painful. There was no way that she could prevent it, even as she let him bare the most of her weight. She didn’t know why she felt the need to tell him about her past. It wasn’t like she was one to make up stories, her imagination far more rooted in the truth than in fanciful tales. Her dreams had always been about a life with Dima, about the possibility of what their future could have held. After being taken, it wasn’t like she had must to dream about.
Things like a day to herself, or freedom from men-- those had been her fantasies.
She felt a little better upright, the weight of her chest making breathing far easier. Olena was fiddling with the straps on her arm as he asked her of her talents. Looking up at him, she let out of laugh, ”Well, if we aren’t counting the things I can do on my back…” He would quickly realize that her wit was a bit darker than expected. She didn’t have a reason to lie about her past. And, between the two of them, it wasn’t like he didn’t know what she’d done for a living.
Sex had been her life, had been her only way of living for so long. Olena didn’t think that it would have come as a surprise to him. As she fiddled, she tried to think about a past long ago. Where she was allowed a frivolous habit that her owner didn’t seem to mind paying for. Her fingers itched for needle and thread just thinking about it, wondering if it would be possible for her to once again take up embroidery to make the plainest of materials fine again. “I’m decent with a needle. Used to embroider… another lifetime ago.” She wouldn’t be able to afford supplies, not unless she could find a way to convince her new owner to lend her the funds to start.
And maybe, just maybe, she could get find the money to get her freedom.
At the suggestion of being a ‘shore wife’, her cheeks flushed bright pink. “If I can avoid that, I would like to.” There was no real concept of what her future could be. All of it seemed to be this dream, one she’d forgotten that she could have. A life of her own, a choice in her destiny? How did she come to this point? Right now, looking down at her broken arm, she knew that it would be a while before anyone considered her useful. “Is that the best I can have? Either back on my back or owned again?”
It wasn’t that she was asking him this, but more just wondering with the Gods what exactly her life was to be. The one thing she knew for sure was that Dima wouldn’t want her stuck back in a brothel or some shore wife that men visited while in port. She did that once and wanted her life to be more than that. “My life is in your hands, at this point. I do not know this country well enough to know what is best. Perhaps I can find a job in a household?” She needed help to land on her feet, and while she hated relying on someone else for that hope, her choices were limited.
Olena was a slave with no master.
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Olena was frustrated overall. Her body ached greatly, each muscle protesting any effort to move. Even with his assistance, the movement was still incredibly painful. There was no way that she could prevent it, even as she let him bare the most of her weight. She didn’t know why she felt the need to tell him about her past. It wasn’t like she was one to make up stories, her imagination far more rooted in the truth than in fanciful tales. Her dreams had always been about a life with Dima, about the possibility of what their future could have held. After being taken, it wasn’t like she had must to dream about.
Things like a day to herself, or freedom from men-- those had been her fantasies.
She felt a little better upright, the weight of her chest making breathing far easier. Olena was fiddling with the straps on her arm as he asked her of her talents. Looking up at him, she let out of laugh, ”Well, if we aren’t counting the things I can do on my back…” He would quickly realize that her wit was a bit darker than expected. She didn’t have a reason to lie about her past. And, between the two of them, it wasn’t like he didn’t know what she’d done for a living.
Sex had been her life, had been her only way of living for so long. Olena didn’t think that it would have come as a surprise to him. As she fiddled, she tried to think about a past long ago. Where she was allowed a frivolous habit that her owner didn’t seem to mind paying for. Her fingers itched for needle and thread just thinking about it, wondering if it would be possible for her to once again take up embroidery to make the plainest of materials fine again. “I’m decent with a needle. Used to embroider… another lifetime ago.” She wouldn’t be able to afford supplies, not unless she could find a way to convince her new owner to lend her the funds to start.
And maybe, just maybe, she could get find the money to get her freedom.
At the suggestion of being a ‘shore wife’, her cheeks flushed bright pink. “If I can avoid that, I would like to.” There was no real concept of what her future could be. All of it seemed to be this dream, one she’d forgotten that she could have. A life of her own, a choice in her destiny? How did she come to this point? Right now, looking down at her broken arm, she knew that it would be a while before anyone considered her useful. “Is that the best I can have? Either back on my back or owned again?”
It wasn’t that she was asking him this, but more just wondering with the Gods what exactly her life was to be. The one thing she knew for sure was that Dima wouldn’t want her stuck back in a brothel or some shore wife that men visited while in port. She did that once and wanted her life to be more than that. “My life is in your hands, at this point. I do not know this country well enough to know what is best. Perhaps I can find a job in a household?” She needed help to land on her feet, and while she hated relying on someone else for that hope, her choices were limited.
Olena was a slave with no master.
Olena was frustrated overall. Her body ached greatly, each muscle protesting any effort to move. Even with his assistance, the movement was still incredibly painful. There was no way that she could prevent it, even as she let him bare the most of her weight. She didn’t know why she felt the need to tell him about her past. It wasn’t like she was one to make up stories, her imagination far more rooted in the truth than in fanciful tales. Her dreams had always been about a life with Dima, about the possibility of what their future could have held. After being taken, it wasn’t like she had must to dream about.
Things like a day to herself, or freedom from men-- those had been her fantasies.
She felt a little better upright, the weight of her chest making breathing far easier. Olena was fiddling with the straps on her arm as he asked her of her talents. Looking up at him, she let out of laugh, ”Well, if we aren’t counting the things I can do on my back…” He would quickly realize that her wit was a bit darker than expected. She didn’t have a reason to lie about her past. And, between the two of them, it wasn’t like he didn’t know what she’d done for a living.
Sex had been her life, had been her only way of living for so long. Olena didn’t think that it would have come as a surprise to him. As she fiddled, she tried to think about a past long ago. Where she was allowed a frivolous habit that her owner didn’t seem to mind paying for. Her fingers itched for needle and thread just thinking about it, wondering if it would be possible for her to once again take up embroidery to make the plainest of materials fine again. “I’m decent with a needle. Used to embroider… another lifetime ago.” She wouldn’t be able to afford supplies, not unless she could find a way to convince her new owner to lend her the funds to start.
And maybe, just maybe, she could get find the money to get her freedom.
At the suggestion of being a ‘shore wife’, her cheeks flushed bright pink. “If I can avoid that, I would like to.” There was no real concept of what her future could be. All of it seemed to be this dream, one she’d forgotten that she could have. A life of her own, a choice in her destiny? How did she come to this point? Right now, looking down at her broken arm, she knew that it would be a while before anyone considered her useful. “Is that the best I can have? Either back on my back or owned again?”
It wasn’t that she was asking him this, but more just wondering with the Gods what exactly her life was to be. The one thing she knew for sure was that Dima wouldn’t want her stuck back in a brothel or some shore wife that men visited while in port. She did that once and wanted her life to be more than that. “My life is in your hands, at this point. I do not know this country well enough to know what is best. Perhaps I can find a job in a household?” She needed help to land on her feet, and while she hated relying on someone else for that hope, her choices were limited.
Olena was a slave with no master.
”I’d never discount such things, but it sounds like that’s not the sort of work you’d prefer.”
Esdras grinned, adjusting now to face her instead of sitting beside her as he had done. It was a pity honestly, if she had been willing to partake he could have happily kept such a pretty face around his home. Even with salt in her hair that color was vibrant and rare, the sort a man could work his hands into, with lips he could savor easily. With such fair skin that looked so soft and eyes that were the epitome of bedroom gaze, he had to clear his throat and look away a moment before he got too distracted. There were men up above who wanted her, men who he would have to keep her from their reach. If he had her himself, they’d grudgingly back off, but she was injured and he’d no desire to add to that injury. If she were willing? Maybe.
Embroidery was a rare skill, one he hadn’t much time for in his line of work. Transporting goods, certainly, but that sort of thing was for fine folk who had the extra time and money and didn’t spend most of their lives naked on the sea. That could help him fetch a good price for her though, if he sold her privately to a cloth merchant. Or perhaps he could even broker her for a noble household that would want such a person on hand to make their finery even finer.
”Seems to me that’s the only way most of us can live. But, I can always check around. When we land in Midas there will be plenty of nobles and royals about. If one of them is willing to do a private sale we could keep you from the auction blocks and a whorehouse. Though,” he smiled in what he hoped was a charmingly inviting way and leaned in closer to her. ”If you wanted to try me before you said no outright, we have been at sea a long while..”
He fully expected to be rejected, even slapped, but she was stirring a desire in him that he had planned to be in better control of. It was difficult to focus on finding her some manner of freedom when all he wanted to do was taste her lips and feel her body against his. Injured, she was injured and he was not that sort of man. At least that was what he kept telling himself.
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”I’d never discount such things, but it sounds like that’s not the sort of work you’d prefer.”
Esdras grinned, adjusting now to face her instead of sitting beside her as he had done. It was a pity honestly, if she had been willing to partake he could have happily kept such a pretty face around his home. Even with salt in her hair that color was vibrant and rare, the sort a man could work his hands into, with lips he could savor easily. With such fair skin that looked so soft and eyes that were the epitome of bedroom gaze, he had to clear his throat and look away a moment before he got too distracted. There were men up above who wanted her, men who he would have to keep her from their reach. If he had her himself, they’d grudgingly back off, but she was injured and he’d no desire to add to that injury. If she were willing? Maybe.
Embroidery was a rare skill, one he hadn’t much time for in his line of work. Transporting goods, certainly, but that sort of thing was for fine folk who had the extra time and money and didn’t spend most of their lives naked on the sea. That could help him fetch a good price for her though, if he sold her privately to a cloth merchant. Or perhaps he could even broker her for a noble household that would want such a person on hand to make their finery even finer.
”Seems to me that’s the only way most of us can live. But, I can always check around. When we land in Midas there will be plenty of nobles and royals about. If one of them is willing to do a private sale we could keep you from the auction blocks and a whorehouse. Though,” he smiled in what he hoped was a charmingly inviting way and leaned in closer to her. ”If you wanted to try me before you said no outright, we have been at sea a long while..”
He fully expected to be rejected, even slapped, but she was stirring a desire in him that he had planned to be in better control of. It was difficult to focus on finding her some manner of freedom when all he wanted to do was taste her lips and feel her body against his. Injured, she was injured and he was not that sort of man. At least that was what he kept telling himself.
”I’d never discount such things, but it sounds like that’s not the sort of work you’d prefer.”
Esdras grinned, adjusting now to face her instead of sitting beside her as he had done. It was a pity honestly, if she had been willing to partake he could have happily kept such a pretty face around his home. Even with salt in her hair that color was vibrant and rare, the sort a man could work his hands into, with lips he could savor easily. With such fair skin that looked so soft and eyes that were the epitome of bedroom gaze, he had to clear his throat and look away a moment before he got too distracted. There were men up above who wanted her, men who he would have to keep her from their reach. If he had her himself, they’d grudgingly back off, but she was injured and he’d no desire to add to that injury. If she were willing? Maybe.
Embroidery was a rare skill, one he hadn’t much time for in his line of work. Transporting goods, certainly, but that sort of thing was for fine folk who had the extra time and money and didn’t spend most of their lives naked on the sea. That could help him fetch a good price for her though, if he sold her privately to a cloth merchant. Or perhaps he could even broker her for a noble household that would want such a person on hand to make their finery even finer.
”Seems to me that’s the only way most of us can live. But, I can always check around. When we land in Midas there will be plenty of nobles and royals about. If one of them is willing to do a private sale we could keep you from the auction blocks and a whorehouse. Though,” he smiled in what he hoped was a charmingly inviting way and leaned in closer to her. ”If you wanted to try me before you said no outright, we have been at sea a long while..”
He fully expected to be rejected, even slapped, but she was stirring a desire in him that he had planned to be in better control of. It was difficult to focus on finding her some manner of freedom when all he wanted to do was taste her lips and feel her body against his. Injured, she was injured and he was not that sort of man. At least that was what he kept telling himself.
He was complimenting her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard similar statements before. With her challenging attitude (especially now), it was apparent that she didn’t really have a lot of shame in her actions. It had been a life of survival, a life she hadn’t chosen but one that she hadn’t wanted to die in. She had brief moments of sanity, both as a concubine and working with her sister. But she wouldn’t have picked this work. And she had made it apparent.
Still, he was devilishly handsome. And the hunger in his eyes was one that she had come to recognize almost immediately. Even battered and bruised, she was appealing. Maybe it was just because she was the only female on the boat. Or because it had been a long time since she’d be able to choose her partner, with no repercussions to the fact. But his offer wasn’t one that she wasn’t considering.
It wouldn’t be a bad life, she thought.
But the freedom sounded far better. She didn’t want to have to try and protect herself when he was gone. Hell, she didn’t even know if he was as good of a man as he seemed. But the one thing she knew was that she didn’t want that. Olena wanted to forge her own path, and it wasn’t going to revolve around the sea. It had already taken so much from her. She didn’t want it to have any more power over her than possible.
There was something about his offer, something that stirred a long-dormant feeling within her. This was a taste of freedom, she decided. The option to pick and choose, to have a relationship that she desired. And she could tell, in his gentle mannerisms, that he wouldn’t have been offended by refusing him. She could say no, without feeling like there would be a poor outcome. For the first time in a long time, the choice was hers.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like sex. On the contrary, she had come to appreciate men who paid for her company to lavish attention onto her before coupling. Olena enjoyed those rare moments, those rare chances to make money and have a good time. It had been a while since she had been with a man, or a woman, in that way. But even just leaning forward caused her whole body to throb in pain. It wasn’t like she was going to be able to do much. But maybe, just maybe, she would be better by the time they reached shore.
And the idea of having his protection on a ship full of men who may not be as kind to her wasn’t to be taken lightly. If she was ‘his’, even for the journey to Midas, no one else would bother her. Olena knew she would need that.
So her eyebrow lifted, the corners of her lips upturned. ”I do not think that, in my current condition, any taste of what you have to offer would be far too painful to enjoy. However,” Olena’s eyes burned into his, ”I do not think that I would say no. How you can find me desirable in my current state, I will never know.” She reached out with her good hand, gripping onto the front of his shirt to carefully pull him to her lips. ”I’ll trust you to be gentle.”
And she pressed her lips to his, allowing him to set whatever pace in this action he wished.
As long as she didn’t move, Olena was content to explore how far she could go.
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He was complimenting her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard similar statements before. With her challenging attitude (especially now), it was apparent that she didn’t really have a lot of shame in her actions. It had been a life of survival, a life she hadn’t chosen but one that she hadn’t wanted to die in. She had brief moments of sanity, both as a concubine and working with her sister. But she wouldn’t have picked this work. And she had made it apparent.
Still, he was devilishly handsome. And the hunger in his eyes was one that she had come to recognize almost immediately. Even battered and bruised, she was appealing. Maybe it was just because she was the only female on the boat. Or because it had been a long time since she’d be able to choose her partner, with no repercussions to the fact. But his offer wasn’t one that she wasn’t considering.
It wouldn’t be a bad life, she thought.
But the freedom sounded far better. She didn’t want to have to try and protect herself when he was gone. Hell, she didn’t even know if he was as good of a man as he seemed. But the one thing she knew was that she didn’t want that. Olena wanted to forge her own path, and it wasn’t going to revolve around the sea. It had already taken so much from her. She didn’t want it to have any more power over her than possible.
There was something about his offer, something that stirred a long-dormant feeling within her. This was a taste of freedom, she decided. The option to pick and choose, to have a relationship that she desired. And she could tell, in his gentle mannerisms, that he wouldn’t have been offended by refusing him. She could say no, without feeling like there would be a poor outcome. For the first time in a long time, the choice was hers.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like sex. On the contrary, she had come to appreciate men who paid for her company to lavish attention onto her before coupling. Olena enjoyed those rare moments, those rare chances to make money and have a good time. It had been a while since she had been with a man, or a woman, in that way. But even just leaning forward caused her whole body to throb in pain. It wasn’t like she was going to be able to do much. But maybe, just maybe, she would be better by the time they reached shore.
And the idea of having his protection on a ship full of men who may not be as kind to her wasn’t to be taken lightly. If she was ‘his’, even for the journey to Midas, no one else would bother her. Olena knew she would need that.
So her eyebrow lifted, the corners of her lips upturned. ”I do not think that, in my current condition, any taste of what you have to offer would be far too painful to enjoy. However,” Olena’s eyes burned into his, ”I do not think that I would say no. How you can find me desirable in my current state, I will never know.” She reached out with her good hand, gripping onto the front of his shirt to carefully pull him to her lips. ”I’ll trust you to be gentle.”
And she pressed her lips to his, allowing him to set whatever pace in this action he wished.
As long as she didn’t move, Olena was content to explore how far she could go.
He was complimenting her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard similar statements before. With her challenging attitude (especially now), it was apparent that she didn’t really have a lot of shame in her actions. It had been a life of survival, a life she hadn’t chosen but one that she hadn’t wanted to die in. She had brief moments of sanity, both as a concubine and working with her sister. But she wouldn’t have picked this work. And she had made it apparent.
Still, he was devilishly handsome. And the hunger in his eyes was one that she had come to recognize almost immediately. Even battered and bruised, she was appealing. Maybe it was just because she was the only female on the boat. Or because it had been a long time since she’d be able to choose her partner, with no repercussions to the fact. But his offer wasn’t one that she wasn’t considering.
It wouldn’t be a bad life, she thought.
But the freedom sounded far better. She didn’t want to have to try and protect herself when he was gone. Hell, she didn’t even know if he was as good of a man as he seemed. But the one thing she knew was that she didn’t want that. Olena wanted to forge her own path, and it wasn’t going to revolve around the sea. It had already taken so much from her. She didn’t want it to have any more power over her than possible.
There was something about his offer, something that stirred a long-dormant feeling within her. This was a taste of freedom, she decided. The option to pick and choose, to have a relationship that she desired. And she could tell, in his gentle mannerisms, that he wouldn’t have been offended by refusing him. She could say no, without feeling like there would be a poor outcome. For the first time in a long time, the choice was hers.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like sex. On the contrary, she had come to appreciate men who paid for her company to lavish attention onto her before coupling. Olena enjoyed those rare moments, those rare chances to make money and have a good time. It had been a while since she had been with a man, or a woman, in that way. But even just leaning forward caused her whole body to throb in pain. It wasn’t like she was going to be able to do much. But maybe, just maybe, she would be better by the time they reached shore.
And the idea of having his protection on a ship full of men who may not be as kind to her wasn’t to be taken lightly. If she was ‘his’, even for the journey to Midas, no one else would bother her. Olena knew she would need that.
So her eyebrow lifted, the corners of her lips upturned. ”I do not think that, in my current condition, any taste of what you have to offer would be far too painful to enjoy. However,” Olena’s eyes burned into his, ”I do not think that I would say no. How you can find me desirable in my current state, I will never know.” She reached out with her good hand, gripping onto the front of his shirt to carefully pull him to her lips. ”I’ll trust you to be gentle.”
And she pressed her lips to his, allowing him to set whatever pace in this action he wished.
As long as she didn’t move, Olena was content to explore how far she could go.
”Leave that be, we won’t be able to get you to a real physician until we land.”
Esdras reprimanded gently, reaching out to pull her uninjured hand away from the straps that were currently keeping the sling in place. They had done the best with what they had, but out at sea without any sort of supplies except those few that they could store away for minor cuts and bruises and sea sickness, there hadn’t been much they could manage aside from the makeshift bandages. He released her hand and sat back once he was satisfied she wouldn’t pick at it much more, a pensive frown on his face as she listed off her skills. Embroidery could be useful, perhaps an in house ladies maid to care for fine women and their clothing.
The more he thought of it the more promising that sounded, he could sell her as a dressmaker or maid to a noble or wealthier merchant house which would keep her out of the streets and give him more to put toward his funds for a new ship. They could exaggerate if need be, make sure to take a few days to rest and clean her up, find her some better looking clothes, but at the very least in the end they would both be able to get what they wanted and he would be satisfied with that. Lost in his thoughts of how much he could ask and how their lives would be better after this, or at least he hoped, he was surprised to note that she had bothered to pay attention to his offer.
Brows raised as she leaned forward and he watched her carefully for signs of her being in pain from the motions. Really he ought to be telling her to lay back and rest, but even in his preoccupied state he couldn’t deny that she was incredibly enticing and he could easily invision himself telling her to lay back for other reasons. She wouldn’t say no? For a moment his speech was lost and as she moved forward again instead of shaking his head he moved closer to make it easier for her as her lips found his, her hand in his shirt a dominant move he allowed her to have considering her current state. He might desire her, as his body was not being very subtle about hiding, but he also didn’t enjoy women in pain like others did. But her lips were soft, and very convincing. He could be gentle.
”I think most men would find you desirable in any state, Olena. You underestimate your pull..these lips...those eyes..” Esdras stole a kiss before he continued, lifting a hand to her cheek and sliding it back to cradle her head without jostling her shoulder. ”The hair. It’s all so very enticing, I’d be surprised if you ever found any one, man or woman, who would say no to you.” She felt so fragile in his grip he nearly turned away, but he couldn’t help himself as he moved to help lower her down on her back once again, his lips finding her mouth for another taste as he carefully held all of his weight off of her.
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”Leave that be, we won’t be able to get you to a real physician until we land.”
Esdras reprimanded gently, reaching out to pull her uninjured hand away from the straps that were currently keeping the sling in place. They had done the best with what they had, but out at sea without any sort of supplies except those few that they could store away for minor cuts and bruises and sea sickness, there hadn’t been much they could manage aside from the makeshift bandages. He released her hand and sat back once he was satisfied she wouldn’t pick at it much more, a pensive frown on his face as she listed off her skills. Embroidery could be useful, perhaps an in house ladies maid to care for fine women and their clothing.
The more he thought of it the more promising that sounded, he could sell her as a dressmaker or maid to a noble or wealthier merchant house which would keep her out of the streets and give him more to put toward his funds for a new ship. They could exaggerate if need be, make sure to take a few days to rest and clean her up, find her some better looking clothes, but at the very least in the end they would both be able to get what they wanted and he would be satisfied with that. Lost in his thoughts of how much he could ask and how their lives would be better after this, or at least he hoped, he was surprised to note that she had bothered to pay attention to his offer.
Brows raised as she leaned forward and he watched her carefully for signs of her being in pain from the motions. Really he ought to be telling her to lay back and rest, but even in his preoccupied state he couldn’t deny that she was incredibly enticing and he could easily invision himself telling her to lay back for other reasons. She wouldn’t say no? For a moment his speech was lost and as she moved forward again instead of shaking his head he moved closer to make it easier for her as her lips found his, her hand in his shirt a dominant move he allowed her to have considering her current state. He might desire her, as his body was not being very subtle about hiding, but he also didn’t enjoy women in pain like others did. But her lips were soft, and very convincing. He could be gentle.
”I think most men would find you desirable in any state, Olena. You underestimate your pull..these lips...those eyes..” Esdras stole a kiss before he continued, lifting a hand to her cheek and sliding it back to cradle her head without jostling her shoulder. ”The hair. It’s all so very enticing, I’d be surprised if you ever found any one, man or woman, who would say no to you.” She felt so fragile in his grip he nearly turned away, but he couldn’t help himself as he moved to help lower her down on her back once again, his lips finding her mouth for another taste as he carefully held all of his weight off of her.
”Leave that be, we won’t be able to get you to a real physician until we land.”
Esdras reprimanded gently, reaching out to pull her uninjured hand away from the straps that were currently keeping the sling in place. They had done the best with what they had, but out at sea without any sort of supplies except those few that they could store away for minor cuts and bruises and sea sickness, there hadn’t been much they could manage aside from the makeshift bandages. He released her hand and sat back once he was satisfied she wouldn’t pick at it much more, a pensive frown on his face as she listed off her skills. Embroidery could be useful, perhaps an in house ladies maid to care for fine women and their clothing.
The more he thought of it the more promising that sounded, he could sell her as a dressmaker or maid to a noble or wealthier merchant house which would keep her out of the streets and give him more to put toward his funds for a new ship. They could exaggerate if need be, make sure to take a few days to rest and clean her up, find her some better looking clothes, but at the very least in the end they would both be able to get what they wanted and he would be satisfied with that. Lost in his thoughts of how much he could ask and how their lives would be better after this, or at least he hoped, he was surprised to note that she had bothered to pay attention to his offer.
Brows raised as she leaned forward and he watched her carefully for signs of her being in pain from the motions. Really he ought to be telling her to lay back and rest, but even in his preoccupied state he couldn’t deny that she was incredibly enticing and he could easily invision himself telling her to lay back for other reasons. She wouldn’t say no? For a moment his speech was lost and as she moved forward again instead of shaking his head he moved closer to make it easier for her as her lips found his, her hand in his shirt a dominant move he allowed her to have considering her current state. He might desire her, as his body was not being very subtle about hiding, but he also didn’t enjoy women in pain like others did. But her lips were soft, and very convincing. He could be gentle.
”I think most men would find you desirable in any state, Olena. You underestimate your pull..these lips...those eyes..” Esdras stole a kiss before he continued, lifting a hand to her cheek and sliding it back to cradle her head without jostling her shoulder. ”The hair. It’s all so very enticing, I’d be surprised if you ever found any one, man or woman, who would say no to you.” She felt so fragile in his grip he nearly turned away, but he couldn’t help himself as he moved to help lower her down on her back once again, his lips finding her mouth for another taste as he carefully held all of his weight off of her.
It was hard not to pull at the dressing. It itched, didn’t feel comfortable against her skin and caused her arm to ache even more. Her nose scrunched as she was reprimanded, wishing that she could just take it off. But barely being able to wiggle her fingers, combined with the pain, meant that it was broken. He wouldn’t be of much use to any seamstress with her hand as it was. And it would only be worse if she tried to break out of the brace. So she stopped fighting it and could only hope for some medication at some point to ease the pain.
Olena liked watching the ideas move through his head, liked the pensive look on his face as he tried to plan for her future. Once again, her fate was in the hands of a man, of a foreigner who could make her life hell. But the kindness in his eyes was apparent. He would do right by her. And it didn’t hurt that he was so good looking. Dark hair, wind blown and long, he was handsome. She liked the way his deep eyes stared into hers. And the intensity of his gaze brought heat to her cheeks. He was strong, muscles toned against his shirt. And as he leaned into her, she wanted to pull his shirt off over his head to feel his hardness.
She liked that her boldness seemed to render him a bit speechless. There was a bit of empowerment in that, combined with the fact that he asked her permission. The choice was hers, and hers alone. As much as she distrusted most men, Olena couldn’t deny that there was something about him that made her trust him. On a ship full of men, having someone on her side was the best option. She needed the protection, and she was sure that she could get it without succumbing to him.
But his lips were full. And he was enticing her.
The kiss was soft, but there was a bit of heat behind it too. His complement of her looks made her smile into the kiss. But she didn’t say anything more as she savored the kiss. His lips distracted her from the pain that came with the movement of lying down. Her good hand moved to the bottom of his shirt, trying to pull it up over his head.
She wanted him.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was hard not to pull at the dressing. It itched, didn’t feel comfortable against her skin and caused her arm to ache even more. Her nose scrunched as she was reprimanded, wishing that she could just take it off. But barely being able to wiggle her fingers, combined with the pain, meant that it was broken. He wouldn’t be of much use to any seamstress with her hand as it was. And it would only be worse if she tried to break out of the brace. So she stopped fighting it and could only hope for some medication at some point to ease the pain.
Olena liked watching the ideas move through his head, liked the pensive look on his face as he tried to plan for her future. Once again, her fate was in the hands of a man, of a foreigner who could make her life hell. But the kindness in his eyes was apparent. He would do right by her. And it didn’t hurt that he was so good looking. Dark hair, wind blown and long, he was handsome. She liked the way his deep eyes stared into hers. And the intensity of his gaze brought heat to her cheeks. He was strong, muscles toned against his shirt. And as he leaned into her, she wanted to pull his shirt off over his head to feel his hardness.
She liked that her boldness seemed to render him a bit speechless. There was a bit of empowerment in that, combined with the fact that he asked her permission. The choice was hers, and hers alone. As much as she distrusted most men, Olena couldn’t deny that there was something about him that made her trust him. On a ship full of men, having someone on her side was the best option. She needed the protection, and she was sure that she could get it without succumbing to him.
But his lips were full. And he was enticing her.
The kiss was soft, but there was a bit of heat behind it too. His complement of her looks made her smile into the kiss. But she didn’t say anything more as she savored the kiss. His lips distracted her from the pain that came with the movement of lying down. Her good hand moved to the bottom of his shirt, trying to pull it up over his head.
She wanted him.
It was hard not to pull at the dressing. It itched, didn’t feel comfortable against her skin and caused her arm to ache even more. Her nose scrunched as she was reprimanded, wishing that she could just take it off. But barely being able to wiggle her fingers, combined with the pain, meant that it was broken. He wouldn’t be of much use to any seamstress with her hand as it was. And it would only be worse if she tried to break out of the brace. So she stopped fighting it and could only hope for some medication at some point to ease the pain.
Olena liked watching the ideas move through his head, liked the pensive look on his face as he tried to plan for her future. Once again, her fate was in the hands of a man, of a foreigner who could make her life hell. But the kindness in his eyes was apparent. He would do right by her. And it didn’t hurt that he was so good looking. Dark hair, wind blown and long, he was handsome. She liked the way his deep eyes stared into hers. And the intensity of his gaze brought heat to her cheeks. He was strong, muscles toned against his shirt. And as he leaned into her, she wanted to pull his shirt off over his head to feel his hardness.
She liked that her boldness seemed to render him a bit speechless. There was a bit of empowerment in that, combined with the fact that he asked her permission. The choice was hers, and hers alone. As much as she distrusted most men, Olena couldn’t deny that there was something about him that made her trust him. On a ship full of men, having someone on her side was the best option. She needed the protection, and she was sure that she could get it without succumbing to him.
But his lips were full. And he was enticing her.
The kiss was soft, but there was a bit of heat behind it too. His complement of her looks made her smile into the kiss. But she didn’t say anything more as she savored the kiss. His lips distracted her from the pain that came with the movement of lying down. Her good hand moved to the bottom of his shirt, trying to pull it up over his head.
