As she stood and touched his cheek, Dima allowed himself to lean fully into her hand, closing his eyes in relief. Every touch between them just affirmed that they were in fact both alive, both here, and not dreaming. He shook his head, pressing a kiss to her palm before opening his eyes and looking back to her with a small smile. No more. Never again would they have to be shared by any other.
”No more. Unless I go back to the arena. Then I have little choice.”
Could he even go back? He had vanished without a trace according to everyone in Athenia, probably assumed dead considering his side job. For a moment he felt guilty, he’d led those men into the fight and then fled without a second thought, left Gaios behind and sent no word. The whereabouts of his former lover though were not what he wanted to ponder with Olena finally returned to him.
”For the time being? Oh no, you are free forever. I’d die before you got taken back. I won’t lose you again.”
His tone was firm and he slid a hand along her hair as she leaned her head against his leg, brushing a thumb against her cheek as he bent to place a kiss on her forehead. It would take his dying breath for him to let her go now. And even then he would try to claw his way out of Hades to get back to protect her.
Laughing again as she asked if he was now rich, he stayed bent over to be close to her, glancing around the fine room before shaking his head.
”No, but I suppose I now work for one. In a way. I fled from Athenia with the Queen and her betrothed, this is his father’s home. As soon as I am able we will return together to the country estate where they are hiding, you will be safe there. Perhaps even maid to a queen if you wish.”
While they hadn’t outright said anything direct about their past, each had mentioned small hints about it. The brand made her life’s hand obvious. His comment about the arena, combined with the scars on his body, meant that while she had been forced into the life sex slave, he’d spent most of his as a gladiator.
Life had been cruel indeed.
”So you could be forced back into the arena?” She would have thought that if he was here, able to come and go as he pleased, that he was a free man. The last thing she wanted to think about now, with him so close and tangible, was losing him again. For so long, he was dead in her mind to make living easier. But would she be able to survive without him, now that she knew he was alive and well? She stepped closer to him, wishing for… she didn’t know what she wanted.
Him and their meadow-- that was what she wanted.
Her step into him seemed to correspond with his pulling her in to kiss her forehead. It seemed that neither of them could stand the idea of being separated.They had been apart for far too long, had both been through hell and now they were alone and together. Olena sighed softly, further leaning into him to remove any distance that was between them. She was just as anxious at the idea of losing him, could feel panic rising in her chest just at the thought of being without him. She knew she wouldn’t survive without him, couldn’t survive without him now.
As she listened to him, she couldn’t really wrap her head around what he was saying. She had been fairly disconnected from politics, and even when she was in a brothel, more often than not she was too high to care about what was happening in the world around them. She had bounced around far too much in the last 6 months to know exactly what had happened. By the sounds of it, he had found himself in the middle of something very political. Her hands moved upwards, waving a bit to slow him down. ”I am a whore, Dmytros. Certainly not fit to act as a maid to a queen” She stressed, cheeks flushing at the idea of even being in the same room as royalty.
But the idea of being in the country, away from the men who would hunt her down, did bring a bit of calm to her mind.
”Not forced back, no. But it is the only life I’ve lived. Since I was sixteen, I’ve been fighting. I don’t know what else I would do to support us.”
Plenty of the gladiators had lovers, a few had wives and families. If he had to return to the arena in order to make money to support them, he would do it happily if it meant keeping her away from the life she’d been part of. No one else would hurt her again.
Wrapping his arms around her tightly as she moved closer, he settled his chin on the top of her head and just breathed, trying to reassure them both that all was well. Her waving hands sent him back slightly and he was about to laugh until she called herself a whore. A look of dark rage flickered over his face and he scowled, shaking his head vehemently.
”Never day that again. It may have been what they forced you to be, but you aren’t now and never will be again. No one will touch you unless you ask.”
As if to prove his point, Dima released her and pulled back, standing on the side of the pool before striding to the door. He returned seconds later with a clean chiton and belt provided to him from one of the other maids, a cast off of Lady Dorothea that had not yet been passed out to the others. It was a simple and serviceable piece and though he would have preferred a different shade to bring out her eyes, the dark green would do well with her hair.
”You could serve any queen or princess or lady you wished. Or do whatever you like.” His voice softened as he knelt by the pool once again, setting the garment away from the water. ”We are free, Lena. They can’t control us anymore.”
The thought of him heading back into the arena, something familiar to her from her past, sent chills down her spine. Surely there was something else he could do besides kill men for sport. She shook her head, trying to deny the possibility of him going back in, thinking of anything else but that. And then, he admonished her and stood up, mad about what she had called herself.
They couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t happened. That her body hadn’t been at the bidding of those with the coin to afford it. It felt a little odd to hear him saying that he would go into the arena again if need be, but she couldn’t do what would bring them plenty of money to be able to survive. It felt a bit… wrong to her. But he was back at the edge of the pool with a clean chiton and a look she didn’t know if she could place.
This had been why she hadn’t recognized him. She had never known this man, who killed people and fought and ended up with a Queen and her consort. She had never seen him this upset before, but then again, she hadn’t seen him when they had been taken onto that boat. She didn’t know this kind of fire within him. But they had been apart for so long, and both had changed so drastically.
It was going to take a while for her to know this man.
She didn’t want to cower back from him, from his obvious anger at her comment. But she was sure she flinched as he stood. She tried to relax once he came back, still a bit wary of his reaction. But he seemed to soften at his return. So she relaxed, too. ”If a Queen wishes me in her company, then I suppose I shall just have to do what it takes.” She gave him a tentative smile, hoping to put some ease back in his posture. ”I am still good with a needle.” She briefly thought of the wedding quilt she had made all those years ago. It had been kept in a trunk at the foot of her bed back home, waiting to come out and be placed on their marriage bed as a sign of her commitment to him.
The way she flinched did not escape him and he paused for a moment at the door in retrieving her chiton, trying to calm himself for her sake. He had to remember who he had been before, the gentle boy who sometimes cried when they had to kill a favorite sheep or a lamb lost to a fox. That boy had died long ago after he’d taken his first life.
She didn’t return to him as easily this time and Dima lifted his uninjured arm to run a hand through his hair. He had to find a way to equalise them. With a grunt and motions that defied his bandages and pain, he stripped away his clothes and slid into the bath across from her, scars and bruises new and old fully on display for her as much as hers had been for him. In water they had become one the first time, perhaps water could heal them again.
”I’m sorry. For frightening you.”
He stayed on his side of the bath, determined not to get too close or appear too threatening. Like the days before when calming and gaining trust of a frightened animal, she had to make the choice to come to him, this new and unknown entity.
”We’re new people now. With new stories.” Pointing to the freshest scar and then others in turn, he gave name to the stories and time he sustained them.
”This, came from our attempt to flee Athenia. I was tricked by one of the queen’s ladies into thinking I was defending her, but in truth we ended up on the wrong side. It’s only luck I managed to get out and find the queen herself. And this….” his fist clenched as he gestured to the one on his stomach, wickedly long and thick for the depth of scar tissue it had required. ”The pirate. From the boat that first night. I tried to kill him. I failed.”
She had been trying to focus on anything else, simply because she didn’t want to be afraid of him. This man had once been the center of her future. No matter what else, she had always known that he would be by her side. And it had all come to an end as they watched their village burn, as they became slaves to men who used violence to gain obedience. He had held her heart as his own, and it hadn’t been enough.
But that wasn’t his fault.
He hadn’t been there when she’d been raped that night on the boat. And he hadn’t been at the sale when she’d been shipped off to Egypt. None of this was his fault. And she needed to focus on him.
He wouldn’t harm her.
She missed him stripping down, only hearing the splash of him entering the bath with her. He obviously realizes that she had been a bit afraid of him, and she immediately felt bad that the thought had even crossed her mind. ”I am sorry for being afraid.” She said quickly, allowing him his distance to tell about his wounds. As he pointed out the old scar from the pirate, she softened noticeably. And stepped towards him slowly, to give herself a moment to get used to the size of him.
”Dima…” her hand was slow, but she reached out to trail her fingers along the scar. It should have killed him, and didn’t, and he seemed to be blessed with enough lives to find her once more. ”I was pregnant once. With a man I cared about. He died and the child followed shortly after. His wife sent me back to Egypt, to be sold.” They both had scars, deeper than most. Taking his good hand in hers, she gently moved it to her belly, where deep wrinkles stretched over her thin waistline. ”I am happy to have you back in my life. And I will not blame you if my past is too much…” Perhaps that was the greater fear— that he would learn everything about her and would be so ashamed that he sent her on her way.
Dima shook his head at her apology, letting her make the choice to move closer to him. Her fingers brushing across the scar that should have been his death were gentle, softer than he had expected though he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps he was expecting still the rougher fingers of the girl he’d known from growing up in the village on their farms, where they both worked and she managed the animals in the fields while he harvested with their fathers.
”Don’t apologize, please. It’s not your fault.”
Her fear was the fault of everyone who had hurt her, those who had let her down and not kept her safe. It was his fault, really. He should have found a way to get her out of there, to flee and hide in the brush until the slavers had left. They would have been saved from so much harm, if only he had been strong enough to break away and hide with her. Their lives would have been so different, and perhaps they wouldn’t have survived, but perhaps they would have. And they would have been free. He had to keep reminding himself that they were free now, but it wasn’t the same. Their bodies and souls had been put through too much in between.
Letting his eyes trail down her body to where her stomach was marked with childbearing, he listened with a jaw that tightened involuntarily at the thought of anyone else touching her. He would have to let that go. It was no doubt due to her beauty and the exotic way she looked compared to the Greeks around them that she would have been much sought after. He couldn’t change the past, only hope that he could protect her in the future. With slow motions so as not to startle her, he let his fingers trace along the lines and softness of her stomach in spite of how thin she was. Never again.
”No, your past will never be too much. Whatever you tell me it doesn’t matter because we’re together again.I don’t want to let you go.” Dima heaved a sigh and met her eyes with his own in a pause before he spoke. ”I killed. I’ve killed so many people. If we can leave those horrors behind us both, if we can just...be. That is all I want.”
Men didn’t want to be touched by a woman whose hands were as rough as his own. When they paid for company, they wanted softness, and curves and beauty. Some of the places she’d been in focused on that fact, providing the girls with oils and fragrances to make sure that they were the highest quality of company. Others didn’t care much, barely providing them with baths. Her body was the contradiction of the two methodologies. Skin soft but scarred. Exotic face but rail thin body. She had been nervous to press herself against him, naked and broken, because he would realize just how different she was now. But he was too, and she couldn't help but want to touch him.
His touch on her own skin was light, tracing a few of the lines from baby she never got to hold. Her hand dropped to his, pressing it flat against her flesh. ”The Gods certainly have not been kind to us.” She whispered, moving his hand to her hips. ”But you are right, it does not matter as we are together again. Finally.”
She listened to him talk about what he had to do to survive, and felt her heart shatter for him. ”It would not be fair to those we lost to just forget our pasts. They made us who we are. I cannot go back to the little girl who spun wool with her mother, just as you cannot go back to the boy in the field. But we can at least honor them by being together.” Her other hand slowly, carefully, moved to his cheek again, forcing him to look her in the eyes. ”Perhaps we will learn. And you and I can find peace.”
Maybe he could serve this man, and perhaps they would end up rewarded for their actions with a small slice of land that they could make their own.
Dima nodded in assent, his palm flat against her stomach as she held it there and the other lifting to touch her cheek carefully. He didn’t want to startle or upset her anymore than she had been, so he found himself treating her as if she would run from him at any moment. They couldn’t be those children anymore, but if she could forgive him for his past, he had already forgiven hers. They could go on together.
”For you, anything.”
His words felt as if they echoed through the room, and he removed his hand from her stomach, moving slowly so she could see his intent before he wrapped both arms around her to hug her close. Sinking into the water more so they were on an even level, he tucked his face against her neck and felt the tears he’d been holding back slowly pour forth.
This was what he had been searching for for sixteen years, all he’d wanted back of his old life. No, all he needed back. He wanted everything but that was not ever something that could be returned to him. There were still a few lingering tears on his cheeks when he finally released her and pulled back to meet her gaze.
”We made a promise a long time ago. I’ve always intended to honor it. If you want to wait, I understand, to make sure you can live with who I am, who we are.” Keeping one of her hands in his own he took a deep breath before saying words he’d never hoped to have a chance for again.
She felt unsure of herself, felt like she didn’t know how one minute she’d gone from a slave who barely escaped from the dangers of being sold to being reunited with the only person that mattered from her youth. Her life had been turned upside down so many times, she felt like it would be pulled out from under her.
She lost her family. Lost him.
Lost her child.
Lost her sister.
Even when her sister had been brought back into her life, she ended up dying, too. How could stop and relax in the idea of him being back, in him wanting her, when so much had been ripped away from her? How could she stop looking over her shoulder, or expecting all of this sudden bliss to come crashing down? It seemed far too impossible to relax in his arms, and yet, the one thing about his touch was this familiar tentativeness of it. It brought her back to their youth, when he had been a bit cautious. His touches had always been feather light, always unsure of the next path to take. She had always been the one to push him for more, to encourage him to push it farther.
To try more.
It was just as sweet as it had been then. But her body had been his then, and only his. Now, she was still a bit unsure as to what her body meant now. It had been touched by so many men, had been paid to do unspeakable things with both men and women. It didn’t feel like it belonged to anyone. How could she let him be with her after that. But maybe, just maybe, that's what she needed. Because he was broken, too. His body was proof that life had been just as rough for him as it had been for her.
His words stopped her heart, breath catching as she tried to process what he was saying. And yet, she had wanted that for so long. She wanted stability and a home. There had been a point where she had been close, and then it was gone. Each and every time, her heart broke with it. But they were together again, after everything. Perhaps the Gods were done testing her in that way.
”Dima…” She pushed away from him, pressing her hands into his. ”You made that promise to me when my body belonged to myself, with the full intention of giving it over to you fully.” Why were tears suddenly filling her eyes? ”I am not a virgin, far from it. How can you still want that with me?”
Frowning as she pushed him away, he kept hold of her hands but didn’t push closer, afraid she was disgusted or had no desire to be with him after all. Hearing that a childhood love had become a murderer for sport wasn’t the sort of thing it was easy to take.
Dima shook his head slightly as she listed off what to her were reasons for him to reject her, almost as if she expected him to not realize what her life had been. He could see it plainly on her as she could see on him. What mattered now was not the past but the present and future, and he didn’t know what he would do without her. He’d spent sixteen years trying to find her again and without her...his purpose was lost.
”Neither am I. Things are different from when we made those promises but my love for you hasn’t changed.”
They’d already established he wasn’t the same farm boy, she wasn’t the same girl who sewed with her mother, he was offering this now as the adults they were. It didn’t have to be today or tomorrow, but he had never wanted to marry anyone else. Had never loved anyone but her. The tears in her eyes spurred him forward and he reached for her again, wiping the drops from her cheeks and taking hold of her chin. He’d been trying so hard not to push any boundaries but now he feared if he didnt show her he was telling the truth she would leave him again.
It had been years since they’d kissed, and with so much time and space between them it was so different than ever before. There was a desperation now as he claimed her lips in a way he’d always been too tentative to do before, experience and age separating them from the children they were. But to him it was no different, meant the same. That he’d always loved her and always would.
She knew of his past, at least in part. From what she remembered of her past experiences with gladiators, they were used similarly to the whores in the brothels. After the victories, they were forced onto display and often had to accept whatever was offered. Money. Sex. It didn’t matter when it came to appeasing the masses. But it was close to impossible for her to picture him having anything close to that. He was strong, and a force to be reckoned with. How could he understand?
And yet, there was a softness in his expression that begged her to stop for a moment. To realize that his own pain mirrored her. That he wanted the love he remembered from their past.
Was it still there? The soft spark of young love that consumed the both of them? She had closed off her heart, had been determined to think of anything that may be love. Even her Senator wasn’t love— it had been companionship. He loved her, but she wasn’t sure that she ever loved him.
Not like she had loved Dima.
She almost argued with him more, almost pushed back to try and make him realize just how horrible she was, even if he thought his crimes were worse. And yet, as he moved closer to her, she couldn’t help but search his eyes for the truth. And she knew that she couldn’t stop him. And she didn’t want to. So she let herself press into him as his lips claimed hers. They were certainly different now than they had been. There was a confidence that had come with age, a firm pressure that showed he wasn’t going to judge her past. Wasn’t that what she needed? Not just someone who could relate to her, not just anyone but him. She let her hands, at first, stay between them, as a safety measure to be able to push away.
But then, she melted into him. Arms slowly, hesitantly moved to his neck to hold onto him, pulling him close so their bodies were pressed together. Olena wanted to feel what he felt, to be so sure of him and his love that she wanted to try.
A flash of foresight, violent and angry, invaded her head. Immediately, she froze. Pushing against him, she stepped back. ”No!” She cried out, covering her mouth with her hands. Eyes opened, she realized that the face she had seen wasn’t his. It was someone else, transporting her to a place where she felt utterly broken and abused. Tears escaped her eyes again, followed by a sob. ”I am sorry, I see… Her head shook, arms once again coming around herself as she tries to figure out how to explain.
”It’s not you. I cannot… I do not…” She couldn’t explain herself to him. Instead, her contradiction was to fall into his arms, sobbing violently against his chest as she tried to grapple with her emotions.
For a moment he was certain they would be alright, that things would return to some sense of normal that he had not obtained since they were children. This was their fresh start and he breathed a sigh of relief as her arms slipped around his neck. Relief washed over him and he held her tightly to him as if he would never let go.
And then she screamed.
Releasing her as she shoved him away, Dima took several steps back and watched her wide eyed, torn between holding her for comfort and letting her have her space. In the end the space won out, and as she stumbled through tears and apology he shook his head. He’d been a fool to think after all they’d been through life would go back to being kind. They’d been too broken by too many people in too many places.
It was like whiplash when she fell against him, and he carefully held her as she cried, letting her tears fall as he settled his chin against the top of her head. This was his fault, he should have kept them hidden in the field that day. Should have been killed before he let anyone take her or harm her.
Guilt washed over her, knowing that he didn’t really have any idea what her life had been like. For him, all he could appreciate was having her back, was being with her again. But for her, affection had been forced for so long that it was hard to not associate it with pain. How often had men forced things on her she never would have done? How often had she been ashamed of her actions as soon as they were done? While life hadn’t always been horrible, the majority of it had been a struggle she had learned to numb with alcohol and opium.
She couldn’t do that anymore, and she felt guilty for wishing she could.
Olena shook her head against his chest, knowing that none of this was his fault. The sobbing continued for quite some time, still processing the fact that they were together again. That she wouldn’t have to go back to that life. None of it had really sunk in until then. And her tears took a bit to change from sorrow to gratitude. She was truly thankful for him. And perhaps, after a safe, decent night of rest, she would be able to better process everything. As her tears calmed, she took a deep breath, still pressed against his chest. Still speaking in their language, she pressed her hands to his chest. ”I will get better, Dmytros. You make me better. I just…” She glanced up at him, hand resting against his cheek. ”Be patient with me. I will not always turn into a mess.”
The last thing she wanted was for him to give up on her.
It would be difficult for both of them to overcome the horrors of the past, he knew that now more than ever. They had to relearn one another, their faults and strengths, see the differences from the youths they’d been and get to know what it meant to be adults now, together. In their own way they had both been through torture, and he hated that he had ever not been there to save her from it. All he could do now was hold her tight until her tears dried and she felt able to speak again.
When she calmed, still curled against his chest, Dima took another deep breath of relief. These episodes would not be few and far between, he had a feeling. Tipping his head into the hand she placed on his cheek, he looked down at her with sadness in his eyes, regret clear though there was no blame on her. Perhaps one day they could be less afraid, but until then they would have to take one step at a time through the rough beginnings.
”I know, Lena. We can give each other time. I’m not going anywhere unless you send me away.”
This time he pressed his kiss to her forehead, holding her close for another moment before releasing her with one final squeeze. He made his way to the edge of the pool, lifting himself out and toweling off in silence before he began to dress again.
”Finish washing, I’ll take you to my room so you can rest and eat. Then I have to return to my errands for the queen. We seek news if her sister survived the uprising.”
Sitting by as she finished her bathing rituals, he glanced over with a wry smile and tried to bring back some of the lighter topics of earlier. She still hadn't really told him no to his proposal, and if he had to ask her every day for the rest of their lives, he would do as he'd promised and longed to do since they were young. No one else could be his wife but her, and now that she was back he would live every day for her, for them. They deserved so much more than what had been given to them and now that the Fates had returned them to one another he was determined to find a way to make the best of it.
She hated that this was her reaction. All she wanted to do was want him, to be able to hold him and need him without melting down into a mess of emotions. A small part of her was afraid that she would hurt him in her sleep. She didn’t want to slip into a panicked state that could end up with her attempting to stab him or kill him thinking that he was trying to hurt her. Pushing him away was far easier, but that was the last thing she wanted to do.
She wanted him. Wanted to be whole for him.
But that seemed like an impossibility, especially after the past 2 years of heavy opium use that had numbed the majority of her pain, it was all coming back to the surface now. Now, when she wanted to be healed the most.
She made quick work of finishing to clean up, glad at least to no longer have the smell of slavery hanging over her as it had. Now, Olena at least get human again, like she could forget her past for a moment and just want him. She watching him dress, waiting until he was clothed to slip out of the water. Using a sheet to dry, she let her fingers run through her wet hair, hoping she didn’t look horrible. Slipping on the oversized chiton, she turned to face him as he asked his question.
It made her laugh, gently and lovingly, “Perhaps you should finish your duty before you worry about marriage. But either way, I am yours.”
Once they were both cleaned and dressed, Dima smiled softly and reached out to touch her cheek gently. It would clearly take more time for them to recognize that they were both broken and needed to heal together. He didn’t care how long it took, if it was years or decades before they could be something close to what they were, whatever the cost he wanted to be with her for the rest of forever. Her response had him shrugging and he held out his hand for her to take whenever she was ready.
”Whenever you think you’re ready. I’ll carry out my duties, but I still want you to be my wife someday.”
He stayed silent as they left the bath and moved through the halls, mostly avoiding the notice of anyone else until they reached the room he’d been staying in. It was far better than what he’d kept for himself in Athenia, still nothing incredibly fine and fancy, but it was comfortable and larger than any he’d had. The bed would be big enough for two, but he wouldn’t ask her to share with him. At this point he was planning to sleep on the floor in front of the door to help her feel more secure, not that he would say it outright.
Everything had changed and yet they were still who they were. Somewhere deep down the children they'd been were still there, were still in love and would find one another again some way. His gaze on her was hopeful, but he was attempting to keep from overwhelming her, of asking too much now that he had some inkling of what she'd been through. He couldn't try to kiss her again like he had when they were younger, they had so much more to learn.
”You should rest, you’re safe here now, I promise.”
Every part of him was crying out to stay with her, to make sure that nothing bad happened and that she would still be there when he returned. He didn’t want to be without her now that he’d found her again.
This all shouldnt have overwhelmed her as it was. The house of her Senator had been just as large, his life just as opulent and his promises to her almost as meaningful. Protection from the brothel, a small allowance to spend as she wished, and a space of her own away from the wife who hated that her her husband had brought a concubine into their home. She knew how to behave in such a fine house, and yet, she felt small next to him as they walked the halls, hands firmly in place.
She wanted to spent the next week just relearning the lines of his hands, the new marks that criss crossed his palms, the scars and calluses that now were part of his hands. There had been a time where she had put her whole world in them, trusting him to one day provide and love. If she was going to do that again, she wished to know everything about them.
And maybe learn a bit more about his past, too.
As they stepped into his room, she immediately searched for signs of anything that would have made it his. From the sounds of it, much like her, there was no much left to their names. The large bed in the middle would swallow her whole, but as soon as she noticed the fine pillows and soft sheets, exhausted won out. She was hungry, but he could bring food upon his return. Right now, she wished to sleep, no matter how restless she would be on her own.
The thought of maybe having nightmares had her wishing for something to knock her unconscious. But she had to stop relying on that to keep her sanity. But she lingered close to his side, turning to face him. Hand gently finding his cheek, her eyes met his, full of concern. ”Will you be back tonight, you think?” she needed an idea of how long she would have to wait before she worried.
Before she took off to protect herself from the demons who would hunt her.
”I am a little afraid of being alone with my thoughts.” she confessed, ”But I think I can bare it if I know when you may be back.”
Dima leaned into her touch on his cheek, smiling softly before nodding. His adventures should only take him about the vicinity of Vasiliadon and therefore would not leave her alone for too long, but he was now more determined than ever to find news. With Olena at his side he wanted to get her out of the city and away from her past captors as soon as possible and he could only return after gaining some news.
”I won’t be late, maybe just after sunset. If you need anything, ask and the rest will be able to help you. These are all good people, I promise.”
And they were terrified of him. A man with so many scars and the build of a fighter showing up in their masters home meant that most of the other staff of the house tended to leave him and his things alone. They trusted the Dimitrous implicitly, that was obvious, but his reputation as a gladiator was no secret.
”From here on, I will always come home to you. I swear.”
With a kiss on the back of her hand, he turned and forced himself away, closing the door behind him. Returning to the streets, he tried to clear his thoughts that had begun utterly spinning. He’d found her again, she was finally safe in his care and he would do everything in his power to ensure that even if she chose not to marry him or leave him, she would live free for the rest of her life. Back at the dock he found some sailors recently in from Athenia, but all they could tell him was when they’d left they had heard rumors that the queen was dead and someone named Stravos had taken the throne. The names meant little to him but he filed them away to return them to the queen.
It was past sunset when he finally returned, picking up bread, cheese, fruit, and a few slices of salted meat for both of their suppers from the kitchen. The door to his room was still closed when he returned, and he opened it quietly in case she was asleep. Setting the tray down, he looked through the dim light of his candle and found no sign of her in the bed. His heart lept in panic and he strode toward it quickly, stopping just short as he saw the huddled form of Olena on the ground beside it instead. Breathing out a sigh, Dima set the candle down and knelt to touch her shoulder gently.
The last thing she wanted to do was watch him go, but she is the one who told him that he needed to do his duty. Coming back into her life, she wanted to make sure that she didn’t turn that upside down. But she felt like she was also going to crumble into a mess of emotions.
So when the door closed behind him, she moved to the bed, testing the softness of the material. Pressing into the mattress, Olena finally rested onto the bedding. It had been a long time since she had found herself in a situation with such a plush bed. Most of her life, she had been on hard surfaces with strange men. And she had learned to deal with it. When her life brought her a bit of comfort, it took her months to find the lush bedding of the Senator’s house to be a bit too soft.
But she got used to it.
Now, after years of hard surfaces, she wasn’t sure if she could handle the idea of such… luxury on her own.
The redhead laid back on the pillows, hoping that sheer exhaustion would help her deal with the anxiety that came with the feel of the bed. She still had nightmares about his death, about losing a baby. She laid for about an hour, tossing and turning and trying to get comfortable but it felt impossible. Grabbing one of the firmer, smaller pillows, she took to the floor.
No blanket, nothing more.
It didn’t take her long to fall asleep after that. The past few months had been limited to hard ground, so this felt familiar to her. Felt safer, especially because she was alone. The smaller space between the bed and the wall was less overwhelming for her.
She wasn’t sure how long it was before she was shook awake by him. Shooting up, it took her a moment to calm her racing heart to figure out where she was. Grabbing onto him, she buried her face into his chest. It was hard to know if she had woken up from a nightmare or not, but she knew that she needed him. Once her racing heart calmed, she pulled back enough to look at him. ”I could not relax on the bed by myself.” Her cheeks flushed at the thought, wondering if he would judge her for that. Because sleeping alone was a foreign concept, and she didn’t think he should have to deal with that either.