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| Looking For A Master; private | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 1 2009, 03:02 AM (279 Views) | |
| Dom O'Jessen | Apr 1 2009, 03:02 AM Post #1 |
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'I should not have sold my armour!' was the thought that had been repeating in Dom's head for the past week that it had taken her to travel from her far-away home country to the Port of Avalon. The Port of Avalon had been a slight disappointment to the young woman who had been expecting a hive of activity built around an ancient city. Instead the Port of Avalon was a cold and quiet city built around a harbour that smelt of fish. In her broken common tongue, which she had been learning during her passage to Avalon, she asked for directions to a local lord’s manor, but got in reply a burst of raucous laughter from the sailors she had asked. Better instructions had come from a strange source: an ancient hag, gnarled as the trees back at home, sitting at the opening of a dark alley. Dom had approached the woman warily – back at home hedge witches and any peasant with magical inclinations had been punished without a trial – but to her surprise the woman’s croaking voice had been almost friendly and she had parted with the information for only a minimal fee, Dom’s warm mittens. And so she had left the hag behind and had boarded another ship, this one heading towards the south of Avalon to where a new Lord had gained power. New Lords could never have enough guards and so Dom was going to try her luck there. On the boat Dom’s thoughts drifted to contemplate Avalon’s volatile weather. Spring seemed to arrive early to these people as the Port of Avalon had been filled with warm breezes and melting snow, slush sticking to everyone’s boots and turning everything to mud. Leaves had bloomed from trees and early flowers had poked their colourful heads from beneath piles of snow. Back at home the snow was still thigh-high and there was no sign of a tepid breeze, just icy winds and snowstorms that piled more snow on everything. She was also surprised by the fact that it seemed to get warmer as the ship went more south. From a small harbour in the south Dom made her way by cart to a city called Seraraye. There she was informed that the new Lord had no need for guards and was instructed to go see one of the minor Lords in the town. Disappointed, tired and running low on money, Dom walked and took trips on farmers’ carts whenever she could. Her first try to a castle only resulted in a cook chasing her with a wooden brush and in the second lord’s castle she was asked if she was the kind of guard who was willing to work on the inside of the room. She had left, clutching her sword tightly and promising herself that she would avenge her honour one day. It took a long time to travel, and she had to find little holes to sleep in and farmers to beg a morsel of food from. ‘Third time lucky,’ she thought as she approached a little castle, which looked more like an overgrown cottage. It’s pointed tower-like roof poked over the thick and high walls that surrounded the castle and caused a twisted grin to adorn Dom’s face, as the walls reminded her of the exceedingly defensive nobles of her home country. She decided to first try her luck at one of the little wooden houses that had been built around the castle’s wall. There a polite but unsmiling old woman took her to a gate that was opened and she was led into a kitchen. The cook took one look at her and flinched. Dom took a step back, her hand curling around the hilt of her sword, ready to prevent any abrupt attacks from broomsticks. But this cook only attacked her with a damp cloth that she used to wipe away the dirt that had gathered on the young woman’s hands. “Ye can’t go seein’ the Lord with yer hands lookin’ like that, girl. He thinks hands should always be clean. I’d give ye a whole bath but the Lord don’t like it if I waste his warm water on strangers, so make sure ye get yer job with him so I can give ye a good washing afterwards.” Dom nodded slowly, taken aback by the woman’s loquacity and amity, letting the taller and wider woman lead her to a little room. She bustled out and returned with a flask of water and a chunk of bread. “I canno help ye anymore. He’ll return in a few hours, I should think, my Lady. Then ye can ask him what ye want. He’s out huntin’ ye see. Loves huntin’. Please, my Lady, don’t make any trouble for poor old Cook. I’m a good woman, I keep his kitchen clean and his plate filled. I dun want no trouble.” “Don’t worry, good woman, I promise not to make no trouble.” Dom bowed her head, uncertain why the woman had addressed her as a Lady. She certainly did not look like a lady, not that she had seen any ladies of Avalon, just ladies of her home country. They had been dressed in dyed furs and had walked behind a prickly shell of spears and guards. Perhaps ladies in Avalon looked different. Dom settled down to wait, drinking a little of the water and finishing the bread in several bites. |
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| Shanna | Apr 1 2009, 05:19 AM Post #2 |
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Shanna shivered from the cold that caused goosebumps the rise on her arms and legs, the weather was not as cold as it was, but the garment her master insisted upon gave no warms at all, it hung from her shoulders by thin straps, and ran to past her knees, it was pure white, her master insisted, despite her duties, threatening that if so much as a speck of dirt was visible, she would have to carry out her tasks wearing nothing at all, not that that would have made much difference, the material was so thin that only the suggestion of white distorted the view of her naked body underneath. Arching her back to try and rid it of the knots her mornings work had worked in, she sighed, recalling her home, and her family, the work their had been as hard, or close enough, but at least she wasn't forced to wear this. She wished she could return, but her family needed the money she sent back to them, and the lord paid more than most. At least she was partially free to go about her business, unless she had been set a specific task, her time was her own, apart from nights that is, she had to return to the house by nightfall to await his call, it came nearly every night now, but she had grown numb to the pain and humiliation she suffered, thinking back to her family and how much better the money would make their lives. Her stomach painfully reminded her that she was yet to eat that day, her task now complete, she was free until nightfall, he was out at the moment, and she intended on not being in the house on his return, least he decide to summon her then. First, something to eat, then I shall need to decide upon what to wear She had plenty of clothes, he bought her them all, presents, for his favoured handmaiden he said, all the more to give the illusion of nothing untoward happening, that he had mealy taken a liking to this young lass, when her parents found out, they had gone on and on about how much of a privilege it was, about how she should be grateful, she managed to make herself nod and tried to block out the images of how she had earned such favour, her father was now convinced it was only a matter of time before the lord proposed. She grimaced at the thought. And how exactly, would that differ from the situation you're in now? Silly girl but she couldn't really allow herself to believe that, if she was not bound to him by god and law, then she would one day be free of him, she had to be. She tried to push these thoughts out of her mind as she walked downstairs to the kitchen, hoping cook would have something ready that she would not have to wait for, thinking about how she would fill her day, she pushed open the kitchen door and stopped suddenly, heat rising to turn her cheeks bright red. A girl, a woman stood in the kitchen, she was short but bore more muscle that she had ever seen on a woman, her black hair cut short. Trying to cover herself as best she could she advanced slowly into the room, she had come into the kitchen enough times wearing her 'work' clothes that she paid no mind to cook seeing her, but she was still embarrassed when someone new saw her. “Hi” she managed to mumble, not able to look at the stranger “I didn't know we had guests, I'll just get some food and be on my way” she almost ran over to where some bread sat cooling on the side, and tried to hurriedly look around for some cheese to complete the meal. |
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| Dom O'Jessen | Apr 2 2009, 03:32 AM Post #3 |
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Dom felt out of place in the strange kitchen. The first reason was because this particular kitchen, which she assumed to be an exemplary specimen of Avalonian kitchens, was very different to the cooking areas she was used to from her home country. The cooking areas had been large open spaces with a huge fireplace in the centre of the area, which always had sizzling and smoking pots and pans hanging over it. The main difference seemed to be the fact that back at home the cooking area had only been entered by a single Cooking Master and her apprentice, but here maids and servants bustled back and forth, some cooking, some carrying plates or piles of laundry, and some standing still seemingly occupied with nothing. The second reason why Dom felt uncomfortable in the kitchen was because kitchens were traditionally women’s places, and very traditionally they were effeminate women’s kingdoms. Dom, in all her warrior glory, felt the sharp stares of the servants crawl over her body. The long-haired girls stared with shock at her short mop of black hair (which was starting to reflect red, and thus would need a new coat of dye soon), and their little cherry mouths opened wide when they caught sight of the sword that hung from her hip. The cook had been amiable enough, but these servants seemed not to want intruders in the house and Dom wished she could wait somewhere else. What Dom did not know was that some of the girls stared at her with a mixture of confusion welling in their minds. Dom was a short woman, easily the shortest woman in the kitchen, excepting the very young maids who could not have seen more than eleven winters. Though she was slightly more broad-shouldered than the average woman, she was far from stocky; her muscular body managed to retain a very fetching feminine figure despite her masculine stance, and it was that which caused some of the women to double-check their feelings. Beneath the grime and haughty look there was a beautiful tomboy who was capable of blending feminine exquisiteness with virile attractiveness. Dom was oblivious to this as she tightened her grip on her sword’s hilt and shuffled her feet impatiently. She wanted the cook to return so she could ask if it was possible to wait in some other more private room, or if she could at the very least wait outside. Suddenly she saw a girl she had not seen before in the kitchen. It was only after seeing her that Dom realised that all the Lord’s servants seemed to be relatively young and most of them attractive in some way, though Dom was only a good judge of one kind of beauty. But compared to this new arrival in the kitchen, the others paled like daisies contrasted with a white lily. And indeed, this girl could well be compared to a white lily. A milk-white dress covered her body, and it was only opaque enought that it differed from being naked by a hair’s breadth. Strands of red-gold hair hung from her head, and the same crimson colour seemed to be spreading over her cheeks. As the girl approached, her cheeks flaming and her hands trying to cover herself, Dom took a step back, her hazel eyes darkening. She stared only as long as she had to and then dropped her eyes to the ground, biting her lip even more furiously. ‘Oh, the shame! Shame on her!’ Dom thought irately. ‘Why does she flaunt herself so! At least she is embarrassed, good on her, but this is an affront to women! Why does she not cover herself up!’ It did not occur to Dom that traditions related to women’s dressing could differ to her home country’s customs as much as the kitchens had differed. Beatiful women who did not carry swords were not permitted to show any more skin or figure than they had to. The girl stopped in front of her, but Dom refused to look up. How could she look at that abominable action, how could she grace her eyes with what was forbidden to strangers? The girl talked to her, her gentle voice greeting her and then explaining something about guests. Then the girl scurried over to one of the tables, away from Dom. ‘She could be the Lord’s wife, you have no right to say anything to her,’ she thought to herself, but immediately realised that the Lord’s wife would not parade herself around the servants and would call someone to bring food to her; at least Lords’ behaviour seemed to be the same both here and back at home. But Dom could not hold in the indignation she felt. “Why do you dress like that?” Dom snapped. The servants froze and turned to stare at her suspiciously. “Woman should not have such a dress so...so...enticing. Not right.” She clutched her sword and kept her eyes to the ground in case the girl turned around. “Does your Lord not tell you that you should not...not be so pretty? I mean no bad respect but it is truth. Young woman should not be so tempting.” She felt exasperated by her weak command of the language and her inability to communicate the licentiousness of the girl’s attire. |
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| Shanna | Apr 3 2009, 01:17 AM Post #4 |
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Shanna was busy searching through the back of a cupboard when she heard the other girl speak, the words were strained, another sign that she was far from local, not that any other sign was needed, never in her life had she seen anyone like that,Shanna had no hope of placing the accent, her life had never taken her further than the next village, until her master selected her and brought her here, now her nighttime curfew meant that she could not travel far even when she was allowed to do so. Someday I shall explore more of this world it had never bothered her, back in here sleepy little village, that there was a big world and she knew only a small part of it, but so much had changed since then, It's all his fault it was not the first time she had though over this, but she was still not sure if she should hate him or love him for it, either way, the woman she had grown into would never be happy with the life she'd lived as a girl, or the life her mother lived. Anger welled up, consuming her thoughts How dare she speak to me like that? she could feel her knuckles clenching hard and knew they must have been bone white, she could feel the heat from her cheeks again, though not from embarrassment this time, this was one of the few things that had remained from her childhood, her quick temper and ferocious anger, she had to quash it in front of the him of course, and now that anger was being released too, anger that he could do that to her, some of her anger was also directed at herself, what the stranger implied was true, to a point, she was nothing but a pretty thing for her masters amusement. Slowly, she turned to glare at the woman, grey eyes trying to bore a hole through her skull and through the wall behind. She noticed some of the serving girls backing away out of the corner of her eye, one, that had received a similar treatment last week opened the door and rushed out. "My master, requires me to dress this way" the words were distorted passing through Shannas' clenched teeth, "What is your excuse?" the harshness of her own tone surprised her, but she would not back down now. "And what are you even doing here? besides staring at servants?" she found herself standing just in-front of the muscular intruder, but could not remember taking the steps to get there That's what happens when you get angry, silly girl she cursed her anger for starting to seep so quickly and glanced down nervously at the sword she was now well in range of, she did not think her greater height would do her much good. Struggling to keep the same angry look in her face, even though her emotions no longer backed it, she tried to look commanding, hoping that her overreaction might keep the stranger from attempting anything, fading anger was met by curiosity What are you truly doing here? Shanna had to admit, the girl was pretty, in an odd way, she'd never found men with this much muscle attractive before, but somehow, this girl seemed to make it look beautiful. Another thing you've lost since coming here back in her village, she'd never even thought twice about a man, her mother always told her that someday, the time would come, but in her childish innocence she hadn't believed her, now whenever she passed a man she measured him up in her mind, comparing him to the Lord, for he was the only man she knew, so to speak. It was difficult not to have such thoughts with her 'duties'. That thought reminded her that she had planned to be gone by now, or at least on her way, she doubted the lord would let here go when he came back, some of her anger returned. |
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| Dom O'Jessen | Apr 6 2009, 02:40 AM Post #5 |
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A warrior was nothing without her sword and her armour. With half of her life missing, sold to finance her journey here, Dom felt almost as naked as the pretty girl looked. She missed the heavy but comforting weight of her simple but practical armour, which allowed her to be just a bit more egotistical than she now was. And judging by the way the girl’s back stiffened from anger Dom might just be in need of some extra arrogance. She could see from the corner of her eye that the girl had turned to face her and was quickly taking steps towards her. Dom refused look at the girl again; she refused to gaze upon her indecent garment and the beautiful flame-red hair. It was only when the girl stood right in front of her, towering over her, did Dom realise that looking down at the ground made her seem submissive. She was already short enough without having to appear humble by staring at the ground. Proudly she lifted her eyes and kept her gaze from sweeping over the girl’s body or face. She looked over the girl’s shoulder at the smoke-blackened stone wall of the kitchen. Though Dom could not see the girl’s clenched fists and sour expression, she could feel the heat of the girl’s anger oozing towards her. ‘A harlot! How low have these barbarians stooped? Oh, woe to me for having come to these forsaken lands! What weak, shameless worms these Avalonians are. ‘Twould have been better to suffer my own shame back at home instead of coming her to share theirs,’ Dom thought to herself. Pity stayed her hand, and Dom’s hazel eyes flickered up towards the girl’s face. ‘No wonder you have no shame left,’ she thought as she gazed into the depthless grey eyes. ‘Your Lord has taken every last bit of it. Although she felt empathy for this girl, deepening disgust and detestation made her growl softly. In her home country, the fresh warriors, the young men and women, served their Lord with honour in the bed chamber. It was a glorious act of fealty and sometimes resulted in great battles between the youths, who wanted to prove their worth. But in Avalon it seemed that a Lord could pluck his playmate from thin air with a crook of his finger and put her in a dress of shame. Since she did not have the Lord to rage at, her feelings were channelled rather unjustly at the poor girl. “So, it is by your master’s request that you dress in such a manner and it is by his order that you are a...a wench? Have you no honour at all, foolish girl?” she snarled, her eyes staring daggers at the wall. Having to look at the girl’s despicable clothes would only make Dom angrier, and an angry Dom was prone to using her sword. Before Dom could go on berating the girl, the kitchen erupted with activity. The servants leaped to their feet with a roar, and Dom was momentarily stunned by the abruptness of their movements – their speed would have pleased any captain. “He be comin’! He be comin’! Our Lord be comin’ early today!” The fat cook rushed in, roaring loudly. Her chubby cheeks were red and sweat glistened on her forehead; her eyes were wide as a goat’s that was being lead to the slaughterhouse. “Oh Gods above! He be comin’ from his huntin’ and he ain’t happy! No, no! Everybody hurry hurry! Shanna, darling!” the cook exclaimed as she stopped in front of the girl, panting hard. “Shanna, shouldn’ ye be gone already, girl? What’re ye still here for? Well, too late now.” The cook’s eyes finally caught sight of Dom and widened. “Ah, Gods, forget ‘bout ye. Dun know if he’ll be wantin’ to see a new face.” Suddenly a loud roaring came from the open kitchen door. The sound was not loud but it silenced all the servants and their frantic activity turned into silent movements. “A lame horse! My hunt interrupted because of a lame horse! And nobody had thought of taking a spare one! I want food! Where is my food? Where are all my servants?” Dom was flabbergasted by the humility that entered the servants. No longer did they stare haughtily at the stranger; they were utterly cowed by just the voice of their Lord. ‘They are indeed worms! Worms that grovel and shuffle their feet, bow their heads and beg for mercy!’ But it was probably her only chance to get work. She had no more money, no more food, and she could not continuously travel through Avalon in search of employment. She would have grabbed the girl’s arm, indeed, Dom’s own arm already snaked forward but she pulled it back hastily before she could touch the girl. “Take me to your Lord, wench.” |
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| Shanna | Apr 8 2009, 05:41 AM Post #6 |
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Shanna noticed that the girl would not meet her eyes, would not look upon her. Perhaps she doesn't have the courage of her convictions, maybe all her muscles are just for show? Her strong words nothing but bark? Another look at the way she held herself removed all doubt, whatever kept the foreigners gaze firmly on the wall behind her, it was not cowardice. She though back to the words spoken earlier, she had assumed the strangeness of the sentence was down to the womans' un-familiarity with the language she was speaking, but perhaps... Shanna had only heard of such things by rumour, and only since coming to the city, whisperings of women that had forsaken men, choosing to spend their time with other of their kind, maybe it was more common in her land. Again she spoke, in the broken common tongue, words laced with rage, Shanna was too lost in thought to hear when until one word shattered her thoughts 'wench? Have you no honour at all, foolish girl?' anger took her once more, she didn't know if the woman still spoke, she paid it no mind. Wench? She thinks I'm a wench? Well, I shall show her what this wench can do her hand was halfway to slapping the girl when the cook rushed in. Oh god, why did I have to get caught up with her, he's back now, I'm trapped here, and in a foul mood too, he'll not take kindly to this interloper being here Her dealings with her master had taught her how to manipulate him slightly, she could not stop him from doing anything he was determined to, but she could shift his focus slightly If I can make him focus on her, maybe I can roam free after all, and maybe she'll go through what I have to, and then we'll see if she's so quick to judge She was not so sure why she liked that thought so much, of her master being as brutal to the new girl as he was with her at times, holding her a knife point as he stole her innocence. Cook was in front of her now, Yes, I should have been long gone by now but it's too late, you stupid woman she refrained from saying it aloud, cook was usually kind to her and she did not want to last out. Besides, she had to make herself ready for her master, she quickly checked for any dirt on her dress, and was relieved to find none, that would be all she needed now, to suffer having to strip naked for her master in front of everyone. So you wish to be taken to the master then? So be it Shanna did her best to look innocent and scared, the master liked those games best, when she acted like she had on those first few nights. “Come on then, if you wish to meet him.” And she walked out of the kitchen. In the hall the master stood his back to them now, still moaning about the tragedy that befell him, she rushed to his side, falling onto her knees as she reached him, she had learned that she could achieve much by looking up at him from on her knees. “Master” She managed before he cut her off “Ahh, Shanna, there you are, and just in time, today has been a disaster, go to my room and wait for me there.” “Forgive me master, but there is someone who wishes an audience with you.” She said rising from the floor. The master finally turned to see the other girl, looking at her as if to weigh her, slowly looking down the length of her body and back, before he spoke, “And what do you want... Girl? Work is it? I should treat you like my servants, appearing dressed so is worse than wearing nothing at all... Well, it is in most cases” the look on his face was that of a man tasting something he did not like. “No, you are not pretty enough by far to do the work of women” He stroked Shannas' hair softly “If you want work, you can work with the men, it would suit you better. Shanna, take this woman to the stables, she can start by cleaning after the horses.” A smile spread across Shannas' face that she could not hide, for once, her master seemed not to mind. “This way, outlander.” |
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| Dom O'Jessen | Apr 9 2009, 03:11 AM Post #7 |
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It took a hell of a lot of effort from Dom to keep her face straight and force herself to give a minimal bow. Frankly said the Lord was a big disappointment. Dom had been preparing herself to meet a minor lord, but this fat creature that oozed grease and sweat would not even do as a cleaner of pigsties. His clothes, which she had been expecting to be at least half as nice as the clothes of the lowliest lord back at home, were made from simple dark velvet that was spattered with droplets of food and huge white rings of sweat had dried under his arms. His hair, ugly mud-coloured ringlets, hung around his face and his fat cheeks wobbled as he spoke to the girl. Dom was pleased by the fact that the Lord was half a head shorter than Shanna, which meant that he would not tower over Dom as much as the girl had. The girl, Shanna, had done a very strange thing upon entering the room. She had gone quickly to his side, dropped down to her knees – her dress hugging her body and the white hem gathering to show her pale, bare feet – and talked to him in a voice sweeter than any brook’s or bird’s. Dom wanted to go after her and drag her to her feet as this disgusting specimen of Avalonian minor nobility did not deserve such a passionate act of humility. But as Dom watched, there was something different about this girl compared to the other servants. Could she detect a hint of resistance in the way she knelt her head forward? Was there a hidden note of defiance in her musical tone? But before Dom could decide if that was the case, the ‘Master’ had turned around and was examining her. The way his eyes crawled over his bodies – like worms that wriggled in the sun – made Dom want to shiver, but she stood as tall as she could and stared at the wall that she could see behind him. She did not look up nor at the point where the wall touched the ground, but some point that hovered next to his knees. When he was done with his judgement, only a part of her rejoiced at having been employed. She wanted to whip out her sword and ram it through his worthless heart, which doubtless was akin to the pit of a prune. ‘You need this job, you cannot turn it down!’ she thought to herself. But it was not only her need that drove her to nodding her head consentingly, but also something else that drew her to the place; not the Lord, not the castle and not the servants...well...maybe one... Before she could finish the thought, Shanna was leading her away, grinning like a madman. Now Dom could clearly see the glint of malice in the girl’s pearl-grey eyes; though her grin was not so becoming, the glint was very enticing, and Dom bit back a taunt. --- The work was dull and the men Dom had to work with were even more so. It was a week since she had been hired, and in that time she had managed to find her place well. During the first few days a few pejorative comments had escaped from the men’s mouths, but after giving her sword some fresh air, they had kept their thoughts well behind their lips and had been almost cooperative. To her surprise Dom had been disappointed by the fact that she had only caught two glimpses of Shanna. Once she had seen her in the morning, leaving early and heading off down the dusty road, the second time had been on another evening, when she had come home and the cook and hustled her through the kitchen saying that the master was waiting. Now it was late evening on her seventh day as a servant of the Lord. She had not done any sort of work that she had hoped to do and had been given dirty, menial tasks to do. Today she had had the job of cleaning out the stables, and now she was trudging back to her room, hoping that the cook would allow her to have a bath today. Mud and horse manure clung to her boots and pieces of straw were stuck in her hair and clothes; her sword was hung from her hip (she never let it out of her sight), but otherwise she was wearing rather plain clothes, a blue tunic and red breeches. Dom entered the dark corridor that led from the backdoor to the sleeping quarters of the servants. It was only when she reached a pool of light that was illuminating a bucket and a mop did she realise that the floor was being cleaned. She looked back – muddy, shitty footprints showed where she had walked. Suddenly she pulled the boots off her feet, only to find that the dirt had seeped through the worn leather and her white stockings were no longer white but brown. Dom had to get away before whoever had been cleaning arrived and slaughtered her. She hoped it was not the cook, for the cook would not hesitate to come after her with a broom or kitchen knife. |
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| Shanna | Apr 9 2009, 09:58 AM Post #8 |
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Shanna lead the girl to the stables, whilst avoiding talking to her, head full of thought on how to turn this to her advantage, her new adversary was now her new co-worker, although nowhere near her station, she would be stuck working with the men, that suited her fine, they would not be gentle with any new-comer, she would be sure they would be particularly bad for this one. “Here is where I leave you, you'd best get to work quick, the master is quick to punish anyone not earning their keep.” With that, she turned and left, her master would be wanting her services no doubt, but the thought of an afternoon in his service could not dampen her mood, nor fade the mental image of the short muscular woman covered from head to toe in manure, those images even kept her mood high when she stood naked in her masters room. A week past quickly, she thought of the girl much, alternating between picturing her being humiliated at the hands of her master and other men, to images of familiar scenes, her bound on the bed, but her masters form replaced by the newcomer. She'd not been allowed out many times in the past 7 days, only twice had the lord seen fit to release her, she had made the most of it both times, leaving with the dawn and not returning until the sun was just clear of the horizon, when she returned the second time, dusk had fallen and the cook was waiting for her, she had been quickly rushed inside, straight to her masters room. He had once again explained that she was not to keep him waiting, he also expressed his shock at the patience he was showing her, and his regret about having to punish her, when she finally awoke the next morning, her body still ached from his punishment, she slowly walked down to the kitchen for some breakfast. Cook had little sympathy for her, it would not do for her kindness to be reported to the master, she gave Shanna an extra portion of breakfast along with the news that the lord would be away for the next few days, she also delivered a list of duties that he had ordered her to do. She read the list a few times, the usual tasks for returning late, helping in the kitchen and the laundry rooms, and cleaning the servants quarters This will take all day she sighed and finished her breakfast in silence. It seemed odd to her, being back in the servants quarters, she had stayed here for some time after she first came to the house, until the master selected her for her special duties, she looked back at the floor she had mopped, the water reflecting the mid-day sun lighting up the corridor, back in her own village, she had enjoyed cleaning to a point, well, it was more like that she liked things being clean, her mother had kept an immaculate house, and it her habits had rubbed off on her eldest daughter. She turned into the nearest bedroom, 3 beds, each next to a wall, a small set of draws next to each one, her room was much more lavish, fit for a lady, she'd often imagined living in such a place when she was younger, although in her young day-dreams she was a respected woman, not a possession to be locked away when not in use. She found herself wondering which one was the new girls bed, and what she would have in her draws, the information may come in useful, or it might provide some new way of making her life horrible, picking one at random, she walked towards the bed on the left and opened the top draw, white cotton underclothes neatly folded filled the draw, she pushed them aside to search for anything hidden underneath, but found nothing, the other draws in this chest were the same, clothes folded neat and nothing interesting to be found. She again chose at random, walking across the room to the draws of the right, she checked them and again found nothing. She was about to check the other draws in the room, when she had an idea, she walked to the bed and lifted the mattress, again, nothing caught her eye Where do they keep them she remembered from her time in these rooms that all the servants had some memento, a keep sake to remind them of home and loved ones, struck by an idea Shanna knelt down to have a look under the bed, briefly the light caught something against the far wall, a coin, small and silver, but heavier than it looked, this was probably more than most women saw in their life What is she doing with this I wonder? |
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| Dom O'Jessen | Apr 10 2009, 02:39 AM Post #9 |
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Everyday Dom was constantly surprised by new discoveries of what it meant to have an Avalonian lifestyle. She was horrified when she discovered the lack of respect that they had for potent drinks and the voracity with which they devoured food. Further acts that brought feelings of disgust in her were repeated every day, as the Lord was not the only one who liked his bed to be kept warm. The male servants who worked for the perfidious Lord often approached the prettier female servants, whispering indecencies into their ears that caused them to either blush furiously or subside into a fit of giggles. In fact, Dom had been most disgusted by what had happened two days ago. One of the older men who worked with her in the stables and the yard had come to stand by her shoulder one evening when she had been peeling away her top layer of muddy clothes. (One thing that was different was how modest everyone was; there were no communal bath areas, and men and women were kept very much separate. To remove even one article of clothing before a member of the opposite sex in public was deemed highly offensive.) He had murmured something too quickly and too low for her to catch, and she was about to ask him to repeat what he had said when his slimy lips latched onto hers. For a moment she had been frozen by the shock, but a quick kick in the right place had displaced him swiftly. After yelling and cursing at him in her native tongue he had shrugged, walking away and saying, ‘Guess ye’re more of a boy than a girl after all.’ Dom, insulted by the man’s forwardness and irritated by her own slowness to react, had nonetheless found it interesting that the man had approached her at all. She was as far from feminine-looking as a woman like her could be and so far no man in Avalon had shown any interest in her; her short body was made of sleek muscles, and her feminine figure was hidden behind baggy, shapeless clothes. Perhaps the man had just been desperate. But as she was creeping down the corridor with her dirty boots in one hand, Dom’s thoughts were far from that revolting incident. She was testing out a prayer to her new patron God, the God of Justice, (Dom found Avalon’s religion fascinating, as piety had not been a part of her home country’s daily life), asking him to preserve her from the wrath of whoever was cleaning. Finally she reached the haven of her room, which was not much of a haven as she had to share it with two other servants. One was a grouchy older lady who took care of the bathrooms and the other was a laundry girl who occasionally helped out in the kitchen. Both old and young found the tomboy strange and had not been eager to welcome Dom into their room. She turned to face the empty room, expecting to see her neatly-made bed with its small chest of drawers next to it (the chest of drawers contained nothing except for some neatly folded basic clothes), but when she turned, in addition to this usual scene, there was Shanna. The girl was kneeling by Dom's bed evidently looking for something under it. The light blue dress that adorned her body contrasted well with the fiery colour of her hair, and with her kneeling on the floor in such a position it was hard not to notice how short the hem of the dress was or how the material hugged the girl’s lithe figure. Dom averted her eyes; even with the master absent, Shanna seemed to enjoy flaunting her body. Perhaps it was time to teach her a lesson. “Find what you’re looking for, did you, wench?” Dom called out, her body shaking with anger. The little harlot was going through her belongings, and now she was even checking under her bed! ‘Do these Avalonians not know the meaning of honour?’ Her trembling hand dropped the muddy boots to the cleaned floorboards with a splatter; brown spots flew in all directions and the sharp smell of horse manure rose from the boots. ‘How dare she go through my belongings! At least thieving is a crime here, or else I’d think these Avalonians complete barbarians!’ “It seems that you ... are ... a ... thief ... as well ... as ... a ... wench!” With each pause Dom took a stride towards the kneeling girl. Her arm snaked to her waist and in a flash her glinting silver sword was in the air, held by both hands. When she was close enough she swung the sword and froze it so that it gently kissed the girl’s pale neck but did not draw blood. All this had taken barely seconds, but in those few seconds, and in the moment that she saw her violent blade beside that innocent neck, all the bubbling anger drained from her body. She stood for a moment, her body quivering but her hands motionless, keeping the blade still. Then, with as much vigour as she had crossed the room with, she flipped the blade from the girl’s neck and stabbed it into the mattress, letting out a feral roar. |
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| Shanna | Apr 11 2009, 03:54 AM Post #10 |
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Shanna nearly dropped the coin with shock as the now familiar voice sounded from behind her, the words too were familiar I really should introduce myself, at least then she'll have something else to call me though she was starting to get used to it, the master called her whatever he wished. More and more the thought of her master led to the image of this woman, instead of the lord who had took her from her home. Shanna thought on this when her mind was more clear, it was clear which she preferred No! I must have no master! the voice in her head seemed oddly distant that time, it's tone strained, and it was quickly silenced by a more clear mental voice, She would be a fine master... Shanna turned to face the girl, still kneeling As one should in the presence of her master The voice from before also seemed to say something, but it was not too distance to comprehend, dimly she noted the muddy boots in her hand, she suspected that her floor was not so clean any more. The boots fell to the floor, spraying muck about the room, a small yelp escaped her at the thought of all the cleaning she'd now have to do, quickly she looked to the floor, hoping the girl The master had not noticed. She noted that the woman was angry, so angry that she was shaking, it took a moment for her mind to connect this with what she had said before, the coin dropped from her hands and rolled back under the bed slightly. Again the woman spoke, moving towards Shanna who was now frozen to the spot, she did not know if it was fear of anticipation that bound her, her mind flashed with ideas, possibilities of what was about to happen, and she thanked fate for making it so she had nothing else to wear this morning, her dress was old, but well made so the age did not show, but she had worn it back in her village, it had been nice then, a dress brought out for special occasions only, and it was one of the few things that she had allowed herself to keep from her past life. Now it barely fit her, the neckline too low, and the hem too high to be considered decent by any that had not seen her wear her normal work attire. She had not noticed the womans' hands going to the hilt of the sword she seemed to always wear, absorbed in her thoughts as she had been, now she was convinced that it was fear that stopped her moving, the thought that the short, muscular woman might have actually used the sword never entered her mind, she could not conceive it being used against her, but here it was, flashing towards her, the same light that had made the coin so appealing under the bed, not glinted off the steal looking to decapitate her, So this is how it ends? the voice in her head showed no emotion, as if stating a fact. At least now, I'll have no master... it was the faint voice from before, allowed to speak now at last. Shanna closed her eyes. The cold metal touched her neck, sending a lightening bolt through her skin, it took a moment to realise that it has stopped, the pressure remained but it had not even drew blood, slowly, she opened her eyes to look up at the bearer of the weapon, trying to attain the look of seductive innocence that the master loved so. Shanna blinked, and the sword was not at her throat, a roar, more animal that human came from the woman standing over her, she could see the sword from the corner of her eye, sticking up from the mattress. She was unable to keep the well trained look on her face, and knelt staring at the blade with a look of fear. |
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| Dom O'Jessen | Apr 13 2009, 02:34 AM Post #11 |
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‘You must never lose control. You must never act with utter spontaneity. You must never make an uncalculated move. You must never entertain thoughts of mercy. You must never hurt an innocent. You must never...what else was there?’ The voice of her trainer echoed in her mind. She had not seen her trainer in years, as it was a custom that warriors went to serve a different Lord than that of their trainers. The trainer’s mantra had not yet dissipated from her mind; indeed, one was should never forget any of the rules of fighting that one had been taught. And now Dom had not only forgotten the rules, she had disobeyed more than a handful of them. The fury had waned as quickly as it had waxed, and now Dom felt a clammy, cold calm descend over her, akin to the feeling of cold sweat dripping down one's back. She bit her lip and then raised her eyes to gaze at Shanna. The girl was staring at her sword, the erect silver shaft that protruded from the white mattress, but the girl's eyes were not filled with the shock and terror Dom had expected to see. Oh no, what she saw was an expression very much the same as what was on the girl’s face when she looked at her master, their master. In those grey eyes there was fear – yes, of course – but there was also submission. For some inexplicable reason, satisfaction bloomed in Dom’s chest. Why did she feel so pleased with herself that the girl was crazy and did not react with the fear that people normally felt when somebody waved a sword at them? But Dom also felt slightly disappointed; she wanted more than just a meek look. Old ideas and desires stirred in her chest as she watched the pretty girl bowed before her sword. Quite suddenly Dom fell to her knees and shifted herself so that she was sitting next to the girl, not quite touching but close enough that the girl could surely hear her breath rasping between her lips. The image that rose in her head was so sharp and clear: she had her sword pressed against Shanna’s neck, and the girl was looking up at her with a look of alluring virtue painted upon her countenance. ‘Stop making things worse! You swore to keep such thoughts at bay, and here you are, dreaming of an imagined expression on the face of an innocent. You cannot taint her!’ she thought to herself with a strict mental voice reminiscent of her trainer’s. The silence stretched, and Dom could not help wondering how they had gotten into such a predicament. ‘It’s his fault,’ she thought suddenly, summoning an image of their obese, narcissistic master. ‘He must be made to pay the blood price of our innocence. In the end it is his fault that I overreacted this way and it’s his fault that she is dressed in such a goddamn tempting way! Damn him to hell! Damn him to the deepest, darkest and coldest corners of death!’ She pushed her fingers through her black hair with frustration, a frown growing on her face. “Do you like him?” she growled. Dom's voice was a touch deeper than the average woman's, which helped to make her just a little less like a woman and a little more like a fearless, androgynous warrior. “Our master, do you like him? When I see you first, I mistake you for his wife. But you have no honour of wife, instead you are like dog to him. Puppy. What he do when he tires of puppy, eh? You serve and serve and serve and obey and obey and obey. What you want, wench? What you want from him? You want him to marry you? You think he will? You get tired, you grow old and ugly and he won’t want you no more. He get new wench.” She had not intended to talk for so long, she had only meant to ask Shanna if she had feelings for their master. But once she had started it had been hard to stop, especially since she could not bring herself to look at the girl. If she looked at the girl, she was sure she wouldn't be able to keep herself under control, and then she'd be angry, she'd be violent, she'd want...No, it was better to stare at the wall. |
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| Shanna | Apr 13 2009, 03:50 AM Post #12 |
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Suddenly the woman was beside her, although Shanna was not sure what she had done to provoke it, despite her best efforts to manipulate events, she could no more predict what the girl would do than she could the roll of a dice I'd probably do better at dice. She could remember little of what had led up to this moment, she seemed to remember the master being there, but he was no-where to be seen, and was meant to be out for a good while yet, not that it would be the first time he had returned earlier than he was supposed to. The master seemed different now that she though about it, some new emotions added to the pool of feelings, she could not really explain it, apart from it was as if each emotion was a different colour, and now the masters colour had changed. She would have to think on it later, now she had to work out what to do about the woman who knelt next to her, it was almost friendly, her posture, not the normal threatening one full of disdain and disgust. She had never understood the girls reason for feeling disgusted around her, it was true that Shanna was appalled by her own actions, but could she not see that he had forced her? She had no choice? If it were up to her she would still be at home, helping her mother clean now, looking forward to the first dance of the summer thinking finding a fine man to share her first kiss. She could feel sadness welling up in her, and knew if she continued thinking about that she would break into tears, and that would not do, no, in the other womans' eyes that would only show weakness, how could it not, with her being so much like the male warriors who never showed such emotions. Shanna could smell her perfume, an intoxicating array of scents, most of which she couldn't name, slightly dulled and mixed with the smells that came with the work she did, but still managing to overpower them. So, she's still a woman in some things The broken common tongue interrupted Shannas' thoughts. Like him! Light! I despise him, I would like nothing better than for the ground to open up under his immense weight and swallow him! How can we think such things of the master? The last though came from the depths of her mind, it seemed strange and foreign to her, but powerful, she shook her head to rid herself of the invading thoughts. “I hate him.” She looked around, the lord didn't have many allies among the servants, but someone may tell him to gain his favour, or deflect his wrath from themselves onto Shanna, she was ashamed to admit she had done so herself, at times. But the room was still empty, for all she could tell the whole house could have been empty, though she doubted that had ever been the case from the time it had been built. “He, he took me from my parents, from my village, he took everything I knew, and the things he forces me to do.” Despite herself she shuddered. It is our pleasure to give the master what they desire. The unfamiliar voice returned, bringing with it thoughts of her performing for the master, although the image was distorted, and the shadowy figure she danced for couldn't possibly contain all the lords bulk. “I pray for the day where I get too old and ugly for him, for any day that I'm free of him, I'd rather die than marry him” She could not stop the childhood imaginings of her wedding coming to the front of her mind, standing beneath the apple blossom as the sun set slowly, her father at her shoulder, and her beloved to her left, his face was indistinguishable, at times she had imagined different men filling that place, heroes from the stories her mother read to her before she slept, and as she got older, she'd even tried fitting some of the boys from the village next to her, but she had never met the man that was meant to take that place, never had the chance. Again she felt the beginnings of tears forming, but she could not hold them back this time, they flowed down her cheeks slowly, she barely felt them falling from her face and onto her dress, lost in her thoughts as she was. “Sometimes, I think it would be better to be dead that to carry on being his...” She couldn't bring herself to say it, she had never used that title to describe herself, despite it's accuracy, she could not admit that's all her life had amounted to. Tears came faster now, and her cheeks reddened and for the second time she was embarrassed to be near this strange outlander, it crossed her mind that crying might make the woman angry, and she wondered what being stabbed would feel like, It wouldn't be so bad, she wouldn't even have to kill me, just give me enough of a scar to mar my looks... Maybe death would be better, you cannot change what you have done. She turned to the girl still kneeling by her, hoping not to see disgust on her face, Nor anger neither, I'm not ready to die yet, if only there was another way “I... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have spoken such, the lord, he.. he would punish me greatly if he found out, I.. I just can't” she could say no more, tears streamed down her face, she covered her face with her hands, and buried he head in the bosom of the other woman, sobbing heavily. |
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| Dom O'Jessen | Apr 13 2009, 06:59 PM Post #13 |
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‘One goes to a Lord with a lightness of heart envied by birds. One goes purely, willingly and honourably to spend a night with a Lord. One goes, knowing that one’s eyes shall be graced by a Lord’s appearance, that one’s body shall be graced by a Lord’s touch and that one’s mind shall be graced by a Lord’s paradise.’ That was another mantra from her culture, her home, her people. Dom, being a handsome female warrior, had had her share of honoured nights with her Lord. But Dom also remembered something else. ‘The most impure of the impure! How can such vile thoughts soil your mind! You must appear before your Lord, humbled and chaste. It is an honour! An honour that no words upon this earth can begin to describe! It is the sweetness of summer, the bitterness of winter, the songs of the birds and the howl of the wolves, it is claws and tongues, cries and whispers, it is Heaven! Adominia, you may never entertain such thoughts again! If I hear of one more abominable thought from your mind, I’ll make sure your hands never touch and sword and your ears never hear a command and your eyes never see the light of day again!’ Her sword-sister’s words vibrated in Dom’s head; she would never forget that lecture, that day that she promised to never think the thoughts that seemed most natural to her. Why were all these memories coming back? And why on earth were they coming back because of this wench? Who was this strange Avalonian girl and what powers did she have that she could change Dom like this? Dom hated the girl for this. She had been exiled, she had no right to call that place her own anymore, yet here she was thinking of her trainer’s words, her sword-sister’s sermon and her culture’s customs and Lords. It was strange to be almost friendly to the girl; though her voice had been gruff and her questions harsh, it had been an act of affability; if her answers were the right ones, it would give them something that connected them. The vehemence in the girl’s voice startled Dom so that she almost turned her head towards the pretty face. ‘She hates him. Now that I remember the stiffness in her back, I realise she cannot do anything but hate him. Yes, yes...took her from her parents, her home. Forces her, of course, like the dress. She hates him...just like I hated him. Exactly like I hated him. I begin to understand you, wench. We are more similar than I ever thought we could be.’ Dom listened as the girl’s tale unfolded in short phrases, little words overflowing with emotion. ‘She is strong,’ Dom admitted. Finally she could take it no more, and Dom turned her head so that she saw the girl from the corner of her eye. Her eyes glistened like icicles hit by sunlight and her cheeks gleamed like the surface of a frozen lake. Shanna was crying. Dom bit her lip and shifted her body so that she was facing the girl completely. She was embarrassed – at home there was no such thing as crying and it was definitely an offence to do so in public – but she was curious, never before had she seen another so caught in the embrace of woe that water streamed down her cheeks like brooks in spring. It was captivating to watch those miniscule diamonds roll down her cheeks. And suddenly the girl turned and looked at her, their eyes meeting. Shame flickered over her face as she talked of how the lord would punish her, and Dom was about to agree, when unexpectedly the girl threw herself into Dom’s arms. Her body shook as she burrowed it against Dom’s chest and the sound of her crying was like the roar of a winter storm in her ear. Shock froze Dom and the bliss of physical contact swept her initial reaction – anger – away. Never before had anyone done this, except for him. And like that time, she did not know what to do. She had no experience with human emotions, no knowing of how to deal with overflowing hearts as she had always bottled her own. The girl’s red hair spilt over Dom’s chest, and slowly, very slowly, Dom raised her hand and pressed it against the shaking head, feeling the silky hair beneath her palm. It was the same red that Dom’s hair was when she did not dye it. She wanted to pat the girl’s head but even the command in her head felt awkward and alien, so her hand did not cooperate and just sat gently on the girl’s shaking head. She ignored the memories of a familiar situation that welled in her mind. ‘You have to do something...’ she thought to herself, and so she lowered her and kissed the girl’s crimson hair. She shifted her hand so that it was under the girl’s chin and started to bring up the crying face... ‘No!’ Dom leapt up from the ground, biting her lip and turning her back to the girl so she wouldn’t see the uncertainty that surely covered her features. “You have to do something about your master...We have to do something about our master...” |
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| Shanna | Apr 13 2009, 11:50 PM Post #14 |
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Shanna felt a soft hand on her head, and remembered the times her own mother had comforted her so, the gesture comforted the new wave of home-sickness that the memories had triggered then she felt the kiss, and she actually smiled, it had been a long time since someone kissed her compassionately, in fact it had been a long time since anyone other than the cook had shown her the sympathy she needed. A touch sent electricity coursing through her, as her head was slowly raised to meed the girl eye to eye, I cannot let her see me like this! her mind cried as she wished the tears from her face, but she couldn't move, she was captured by a touch and a look that no longer showed a mothers love. Then she was gone, Shanna found herself unbalanced, the girl she had been leaning her weight on replaced by air, which did a much worse job of supporting her, she was only just able to raise a hand to sop her falling over completely, and turned to look at the suddenly standing woman just in time to see her turn her back. What was that about? This girl was confusing, but her own thoughts were spinning too, feelings that she had only felt for certain boys mixed up with feelings long repressed, her sadness gone with her tears, though she could remember neither leaving. She wiped her cheeks with her hands, determined to wipe away any evidence of the emotional outbreak, and to cover up the look of confusion she undoubtedly wore whilst making sense of what she felt. I can't feel like this about her, she's a girl, this isn't right But it felt so good But she leapt up, she doesn't want this Maybe she's just as confused as me... Set on her course now, she stood slowly, taking the time to try and smooth the creases she had made in her dress, pointless as it were, the garment would need a clean and more, she cursed herself for not cleaning the floor before deciding to crawl around on it, and then giggled softly that she should think of cleaning at a time like this. The other girl still had her back to her, clearly not seeing Shanna as a threat even though her sword still stood proudly in the mattress, in arms reach of her. She wouldn't need that to defeat you, this is a dangerous girl the feeling of excitement struck, caused by the risk and the wrongness of what she was about to do. She walked around to the front of the woman slowly, feeling the timber of the floor with every step, it seemed all her senses were heightened, although all of them were focused on the outlander, watching for any sudden turn that would make her stop Or would it? You've made up your mind now, silly girl the girl spoke, and Shanna froze, but when it became apparent that she was not objecting to anything, she carried on softly Yes, together we shall take care of him... the though blinked out of her mind as she now stood in front of the foreigner. Now she moved quickly, betraying her nerves, her hands reached for the tanned face of the girl, lifting it slightly to meet her lips, the kiss was brief, but felt like fireworks going off all over her body. The seemed to shatter whatever bravery she had, and she quickly stepped back, fear stopping her from moving too far. “What do you have in mind? Mistress warrior” She hoped her voice sounded confident and flattering, hoping to repair any damage the kiss had done. |
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| Dom O'Jessen | Apr 14 2009, 04:55 AM Post #15 |
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Running through sword exercises in her head – Heron Wading in the Rushes, Parting Silk, Cat Dances on the Wall, Stone Falls From the Mountain – kept her body under control. Dom controlled her breathing, inhaling and exhaling deeply, counting to twenty between each new intake of breath. ‘You fool! Women do kiss each other, at least cheeks and foreheads, when comforting each other. Did you not see the young woman on the ship being embraced by the old woman? That kind of intimacy is normal between females in this land, I believe. But now it’s too late, leaping up the way you did made it as obvious as kissing her lips! Fool woman! She will surely know that something is up!’ She waited for the girl to respond, listening intently to any movements she might make. Finally Dom heard the girl stand up slowly, and she tensed, hands curling into fists. If the girl was disgusted and wanted to slap her, Dom would be ready for her. ‘Then I can leave this place, and never see her again. I must learn control again, I must learn how to be worthy of my warrior title again,’ she thought bitterly. While she was thinking, she almost missed the quiet giggle; was the girl mocking her? She better not be, Dom did not need her sword to teach lessons. She stood without moving, without turning her head, almost without blinking, and very slowly, with graceful, long steps, the girl appeared before her, like a white cat sauntering proudly to its owner. Once, only once, did Dom’s gaze flicker to the girl’s face, wondering at the intent but indiscernible expression, but over the week she had become accustomed to the habit of not looking straight at the girl, and so it was comforting to watch her from the corner of her eye. As the girl came closer and closer, she could not look over the girl’s shoulder without going cross-eyed. She was standing too close, with Dom’s eyes just inches from her pale jaw. The proximity of the girl was unnerving, and it took every last strand of effort to keep herself standing casually before the towering figure; it also seemed to take a lot of effort to keep her eyes from drifting to the girl’s dress. Before Dom could react, cool fingers grasped her own face, tilting it upwards so that for a moment grey eyes met hazel eyes, and then the pretty face blurred and Dom’s lips burst into flame. The tingling, akin to the sting of eating spicy food, lingered on her lips, although the kiss was quickly over. Surprise, shock, uncertainty and approval flickered across Dom’s features, but mostly there was surprise. She had been expecting a slap at the very least and at the most...perhaps running out the room, insulted, angry and shouting for help. But the girl did not look scandalised or scared, in truth she looked almost pleased with herself. Shanna stepped back – the space that opened up between them felt like a whip of cold air – and spoke. What Shanna asked was reasonable, but her tone, one of self-assurance, displeased the short swordswoman. Perhaps the meek young girl had been better. ‘Could it be...? Could she really...? Silence,’ Dom shushed herself, ‘You gave an oath not to entertain such thoughts ever again.’ The step that the girl had taken back was quickly covered as Dom took one stride forward. “So,” she said and raised an arm up to Shanna’s face, pressing her finger almost accusingly against the girl’s cheek. “So, lamb knows how to roar, does she?” Dom regarded the girl. Shanna was taller than her and perhaps slighty thinner than her, but also lither and frailer, not as heavy-set or muscular as a warrior. But perhaps, considering her peculiar persona, she would do. Oh yes, the ‘Mistress warrior’ had a plan. Dom lowered her hand to the side of Shanna’s face, pushing strands of red hair behind her ear. Then she stood up on her tip toes and tipped her head upwards so that her lips brushed the girl’s cheek. “But...it remains to be seen if lamb knows how to kill,” she whispered, her voice low and rough, provoking and enthralling. After another quick brush of her lips against the girl’s cheek, Dom stepped away and walked to the bed, pulling out her sword and putting it in its sheath. Straw spilled from the hole in the mattress and fluttered to the ground; some good explaining would be needed. “When does our master return?” |
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11:57 AM Mar 20
