She started as the rolled rug hit the stone floor; sitting up in bed quickly and causing the cat to give an indignant grunt. She watched as he nudged it with his foot and then laid down atop it; clearly feeling the after effects after he'd drunk so much the night before. She leaned against one hand sleepily; wondering why he was sleeping on the floor when he'd climbed atop her to take his bed from her the night before.
She sank back down into the bed; not wanting to get up yet as it was quite comfortable compared to the straw bed on the ship. She didn't answer him when he asked if she'd been on the ship as it was obvious that she had been. But when he'd said he considered she may have jumped off the cliff or turned into a bird, she raised a brow; surprised he would be concerned at all. Then again, he'd told her unequivocally that she was worth a small fortune. If she'd jumped off a cliff, she would have robbed him of that.
She sighed and rolled over so her back faced him...but after a moment, she spoke, but not too loudly. "You should eat some fruit and drink water. It will help you to feel better." Were she another person, she may have helped him herself.. but he was perfectly capable of doing so on his own.
After that, it didn't matter what she did, she couldn't seem to get back to sleep. So she slid barefoot from the bed and padded over the floor where the servant girl had laid out another spread of delicious foods. Determined not to allow him to boss her around, or ask him permission, she plucked up an orange and a couple eggs to eat before padding out onto the front portico of the temple to look down at the village. Artemis followed her out and wrapped herself around Thalia's ankles; purring as she rubbed between her legs. She broke off a piece of the egg and bent down to feed it to the cat; looking out at the village as it bustled to life with women moving back and forth, and the men loading up the ship. After she'd finished her meager breakfast, she went back in and tied on her sandals before plucking up the cat. "I'll be down at the village if you need me.... you needn't search the cliffs.."
She smirked and slipped out the door to wander down to the path. She probably should have been more anxious walking into a village full of the pirates that took her captive, but she squared her shoulders, raised her chin, and marched in as if nothing was amiss. After all, everything was up for interpretation. They knew little better whether she could or could not be there... but they would definitely question her if she snuck around unsure of herself.
She approached one woman who seemed wary of her at first and asked if she knew who owned the cat, but she didn't and so Thalia moved on to another. When she came across a basket weaver, she complimented the woman on her work while tracing the dried grass it was made of. The woman found the compliment encouraging and they were able to start a conversation, all while Artemis squirmed in her arms.
The basket weaver called over another woman; happy that someone of such breeding would speak so nicely to her, and they were able to narrow down who the cat had been fed by. They walked her to another house and called out to another woman who informed her that she fed the cat, but that she had so many she couldn't keep track of them anymore and that Thalia was welcome to her. Thalia hugged the woman and thanked her for the cat and promised that at her first opportunity she would repay her.
By the time she'd left the village mid-day to wander back up to the temple, Artemis was running ahead of her; checking through the brush for things to eat and she'd had a basket of offerings the villagers gave her for her to try. Different foods and eccentricities she'd never seen before that she'd found interesting from the different cultures the women had been brought to the island from. She carried the basket with both hands wrapped around it into the temple and set it down on the table before fishing out a few candied treats. There were quite a few crates that had been removed from the temple, and she wondered if they'd been loaded onto the boat. It would mean that they may have been leaving soon. Sighing, she sat down on the bed. She still had yet to convince Lukos to take her home. And while she found the island to be charming and it's people resourceful and diverting, this wouldn't last. She needed to go back.
He kept his back to her as she spoke in low, considerate tones, telling him he should drink and eat. She was right, of course. However, he did not feel equal to the task, at the moment. Aside from this, she was his slave. She would be the one to bring him these things.
When she shifted from the bed, he half smiled. There. At last she was beginning to understand her place. He listened as she moved to the table. The wooden dishes clunked together softly as she picked through and he found the will to turn over onto his back, holding out his hand and watching her. An orange would be perfect; the eggs? No.
Except that she did not bring it to him. Lukos turned onto his side and propped himself up on one arm, squinting at her back as she walked outside. Her back and shoulder were just visible from where he was but he could see her moving. The cat’s tail flicked into view and from the way she bent down, he could tell she was giving the damned cat food before she brought any to him.
If he felt less like dying, she’d have been cowering at him right now. Except no she wouldn’t. He sagged back onto the rug, fatigued already from the argument they weren’t even having. It didn’t seem to matter what he did to her or how hard he came down; she fought and clawed and refused to submit. A long sigh escaped him. At that moment, she moved back into the temple and he glanced at her, ready for her to at last serve her purpose.
Again, she defied him, acting as though she was free to do as she willed. He followed her with his eyes as she walked back over to the bed and tied on her sandals. A slow blink was all that met her airy declaration that she would be down at the village, should he require anything. And then she left.
Complete silence answered her. He lay there, his head throbbing, his stomach feeling only marginally better than it had been, and wondering at exactly which point he’d gone wrong with her. What did she mean by traipsing across his island? Did she do foolish things at home too? Oh. Yes. Of course she did. That was why she was here.
He did not have the energy or the will to go catch her and aside from that, he was alone at last. It took a few minutes, but he finally rose from the carpet and shuffled over to the table. The wine he did not touch but instead took the water and an orange, working on them both slowly. After he was sure his stomach was safe, he took a piece of flat bread but did not touch the eggs. Even the smell made an uncomfortable lump in his throat.
After eating, he went to the springs, washing off the feeling of death and came back feeling a little more like himself. He took a cluster of grapes and went out onto the steps, sitting there and watching the village below. Why wasn’t she scared out of her mind? He had been. He and the others taken with him years ago. The man who had captured them was an iron statue made animate. Cold and cruel, he’d actually killed one of the slave boys when the he had talked back once too often.
Lukos had never gone that far. It had worked though. For the rest of that voyage, and the ones after that he’d been forced to endure as one of the questionably lucky ones kept from the market, he’d never once crossed the old man. As much as Phaedra cursed him, as much as they all loathed him, they did not understand that he was not the worst that could happen.
His thoughts strayed away from the past when a slave girl became visible as she rounded a bend up the slope. She kept her eyes on the path and he made no attempt to speak to her. This was how it should be between him and Phaedra. He watched the slave girl with a little more interest than he ever had before, noting how she trembled slightly the closer she came to the temple, how fast she completed her work, how her steps quickened back down the hill.
He wanted to sleep but knew he couldn’t. Arktos and some of the crew would soon be here with the wagon. Standing slowly, he stretched his arms above his head, his eyes unwillingly sweeping the distant village below for some glimpse of black hair. It was too far. She would be nothing but an indistinct form from here.
Inside of an hour saw Arktos and the wagon trundling up the path. The faces of the men with him were tight and pale. Even Arktos, puffing and sweaty as he was, seemed wary of actually setting foot on the steps. Lukos did not want to dispel their fear either and had pushed out the trunks that were to be taken out onto the porch so that his men would not intrude into his private sanctuary.
He did not help the men load the trunks but watched as they were bundled down the hill. Nothing would go missing, he was sure. Bianor’s book saw to that. The old man was the most useful acquisition Lukos had ever made. And Phaedra was proving the most irritating. Looking out for her again, he still didn’t see her. With a fed up wave in the general direction of the village, he moved back inside, taking off his boots, and lying on the bed.
The day was still not as hot as it would be and the breeze that blew through the open door made him remember his fatigue. Slipping beneath the blanket, he pulled the pillow over his head to hide from the light and drifted off into a light sleep. He woke at the sound of her footsteps across the stone floor but didn’t move until he felt the bed sink a little as she sat down. Pulling the pillow off his head, he studied her profile for a moment. His eyes wandered to the basket she’d brought back and he sat up, frowning.
She looked to be in good enough spirits; obviously she had not been accosted. If she kept up like this, wandering wherever she pleased, speaking to whomever, and accepting gifts, he wouldn’t need to collar her. He eased back down, using his arms behind his head as a pillow and looking her over again with a different expression. It would be a shame to give her to someone else…
“As much as you claim not to belong to me, you don’t seem to mind the benefits,” the grim line of his mouth was not quite able to hide the amusement in the corners. The village women had given her quite a lot, from his perspective. He wondered if she would understand what he was getting at.
As soon as he shifted in the bed and uncovered his face, she stood up quickly; having no desire to be in the same bed with him unless there was the threat of rats close. She popped a candied fig into her mouth and chewed it as she wandered away; kicking the cage as she replied to him. "If by benefits you mean, not sleeping in a ball inside of a cage? ...Yeah.. it's great.... have you been asleep all day?"
She went and sat on one of the crates that were left behind and unlaced her shoes; tugging them off so she could feel the cool stone of the temple floor beneath her teeth. Artemis wandered through with a 'mewl' and padded over to the bed. Hopping up, she stared at Lukos with wide grey eyes and then inched forward; sniffing him timidly; her white whiskers flicking back and forth. When she'd finished inspecting him, she wandered over to the bottom corner of the bed and pawed it a few times before curling up in a tight ball to crouch down and nap.
Thalia waved to all of the missing crates in the room. "Did you move them to the ship? When will you be leaving? Have you come to your senses yet and decided to take me home?" Wishful thinking, really. She should know better. But she wouldn't let him think she'd given up. She wasn't his. She wasn't going to be sold. She wasn't anybody's.
She stood and went back to the basket of gifts and unpacked a few things. "It's lovely to see that, despite your crew's lack of civility, the women in your village are very accommodating. They insisted I try all of this... and a woman named Frona told me to keep Artemis. ...The cat there." She motioned to the cat who had her chin tucked into her chest as she napped. "And another woman named Iole braided my hair for me." Iole must have gotten a bit carried away, as she'd woven branches from an olive tree into the knots. All of which could be taken out later, of course.
Lukos sat up as she left the bed, sliding to the edge where she had been. The further light sleep he’d taken had stolen away the last painful vestiges of last night’s stupidity. He followed her with his eyes as she backed away from him. A corner of his mouth turned up and he turned his attention to the grey blur that had hopped up into his peripheral vision. Mild surprise crossed his features. He held up his knuckles, letting the cat sniff them but she knew him. Flicking up her tail, she left him to settle on the end of the bed.
“No,” he said slowly in answer to her question of if he’d been asleep all day and turned his attention fully on Phaedra again. It was incredible to him that she was at ease enough to sit on a crate and remove her sandals. He stood and did as she had done, taking a fig from the table. His steps were the shadows of hers, though instead of moving past the cage, he leaned a shoulder against it. She gestured around her to the missing crates and chests, asking the obvious; if they’d been moved to the ship. Only a noncommittal shrug answered that question.
“When will you be leaving? Have you come to your senses yet and decided to take me home?"
When would he be leaving? As though she might be left behind? He smirked at the question as she rose from the crates and passed him, going back to the basket. Wherever she went, he followed, if not bodily, then his gaze. “Home.” He murmured the word contemptuously under his breath, watching her dig out what the village women had given her. At last he pushed away from the cage, slipping silently over to where she stood at the table, occupied with her things.
He stood just behind her as she spoke. She smelled like perfume and he realized that she must have found the springs. Fresh agitation surfaced. His eyes swept the chiton she wore, realizing it was different than the one he’d given her on the ship. So she’d gone through the trunks too. The material on this one was not near so fine as the one he’d captured her in but it was a good deal more elegant and becoming of a lady than the one he’d wanted her to wear before.
“Braiding hair,” he murmured pleasantly, placing the tip of his index finger on the fine hairs on her neck and trailing it down her spine as far as the chiton would allow. “Adopting a cat.” Lukos reached around her and clamped both hands on either side of the table, effectively locking her in place as he spoke beside her ear. “You don’t act like you want to go home.” A large portion of him wanted her to fight him again; to give one good reason to put her back in chains, perhaps even lock the collar back around her neck in a way that she would not be able to pry it off. A no less potent portion wanted something else from her but he would not do it. She, however, didn’t need to know she was in no danger of his taking her. Or at least, very little.
“When I was captured,” he dropped the lighter tone he’d had up to now. “I did not traipse across the ship, or order the captain around. I did not go through his things. Do you know why?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. His knuckles were white on the table. “I was kept wondering, hour to hour, if I would be tossed overboard. Or gutted for speaking above my station. You do not seem to appreciate the precariousness of your situation.”
Two days away from Lukos and his prior acts of mercy dimmed her awareness of how easily his mood could shift. The smallest things seemed to set him off. If she'd had her blade, this would have been a non-issue...but toe to toe, he was larger and stronger than she was despite how much passion she fought with. That was apparent after their last encounter. But she'd grown tired of sitting inside the cabin on the ship. She'd needed the fresh air today; to walk in the village and speak to people who didn't think less of her. To feel the sun and smell the earth and climb the path up to the temple. To be left breathless by it. She missed training with her brother; the athleticism in it. The way her muscles burned after and how her heart raced. Thalia didn't do sedentary very well.
He stood from the bed and moved with her as she sat to remove her shoes; leaning against her broken cage before the action annoyed her and she moved to the table. He watched at first, but then followed as she unpacked the basket; stepping close. Determined not to give him the upper hand in letting him know he was unnerving her, she continued to speak as he stepped closer to her. His tone mocked her tale; what she'd told him of the day as his knuckle grazed the back of her neck. A few curled locks had been strategically placed over her shoulder by Iole. It was a bit rudimentary compared to how her own staff did the style, but it was a good effort. Her shoulders tensed as that knuckle traveled lower; between her shoulder blades and down her spine to her mid-back where the chiton's material pooled in a waterfall drape that was cinched by two silver broaches balanced precariously on her shoulders. Goosebumps chased his finger down her back and she grit her teeth. His hands slipped between her arms and gripped the table at her hips and she sucked in a breath as he told her she didn't act like she wanted to go home.
Setting down a shell necklace one of the women had gifted her, she slowly turned in his arms to face him; her hazel eyes finding his as he leaned over her. He was close.. too close. So close she had to lean back a bit to see him. When she set her hand back on the table, she set it atop his on accident before moving it to the side. She'd had her fair share of pushy men corner her in court before. Unfortunately, she couldn't always neutralize them in the way they deserved. Over time, she'd learned how to disarm them enough to get out of the corner.
A hand lifted to toy with the open fabric of the plain, oversized shirt he wore; her eyes staring down at them; watching their progress. "Lukos... " The way she said his name....like a caress of its own.. patient and sultry as she blinked thick lashes and looked up at him through them. Her hand moved lower and so did she; raising her chin to continue watching him as she sunk down slowly in the circle of his arms. "Trust me...." Her hands moved down his sides; caressing his torso beneath his shirt as her face lowered to his stomach; still, she watched him and her hands went to the waistline of his pants. "...There is nothing I want more...."
She ducked beneath his arm and stood up easily as she stepped away from him; tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she walked towards the front entrance; her back turned on him. If she turned to face him it would make her look afraid of him and she had no desire to allow him to think such a thing. His tone became menacing as he spoke to her; asking her if she knew why he didn't order the captain around or go through his things or walk about freely and she answered with an airy tone that belayed the mounting tension. "Because you weren't a noble who was wrongfully kidnapped?" She stepped out onto the front portico and crossed her arms in front of her chest; staring down at the ship as the crew continued to load goods onto it. It was still broad daylight out; the sun hadn't dipped more than halfway past it's center point. The night was still far away. "Nor you, Lukos.... Nor do you..."
She said it beneath her breath.. but the fact that her brother was a commander in the Athenian legion, and that her family was detrimentally close to King Midas meant that her absence would not be forgotten. They would search for her endlessly. And when they found him, he would die the death a pirate who steals from nobles deserves.
He’d resisted the urge to slide his hand over her ribs and as she slowly turned, carefully so that they did not touch, he felt his pulse quicken. His eyes locked onto hers, tense, readying for her to lash out. She did not. Instead she leaned back, accidentally grazing his hand but amending her mistake quickly. Her hand came up and he nearly gripped her wrist but she moved slowly, teasing. Not in the aggressive manner he’d come to expect from her.
It was impossible to ignore the feeling of her hands as they slid over his body. He did not trust her name on his lips but he found himself unwilling to stop her as she lowered herself. His muscles tensed under her touch and still he did nothing but watch her, frozen, unable to focus. She was at his stomach, her breath hot through his shirt, her fingers at his waist. The white knuckled grip he kept on the table was almost painful.
All at once she slipped away. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, finally able to take a proper breath. His blood raced. His pupils were dilated and all he wanted as she walked away was to spin her back around, draw her with him back away from the door. The warning he gave her didn’t stop her. She simply kept sauntering maddeningly away, breezily insulting him again.
He pressed his fists against his stomach, watching her, half afraid to go anywhere near her. She wasn’t safe from either side of him at the moment. One part wanted to rip her off her feet and see that smug expression drop from her beautiful face. Another part wanted her so badly he could barely stand it. Of that, he was certain she knew. Though some part of her trusted him not to harm her seriously or else she would not have her back to him now.
His instinct was to stalk away and leave her alone completely to avoid any loss of control one way or the other but both admitted his weakness where she was concerned. That could no longer be indulged. The sun outlined her skin in brilliant gold and he had a sudden revelation. She was far, far too good for the slave market he’d planned on taking her to tomorrow. There was no jewelry on her body but he could imagine it.
Thought became action as he moved across the floor, sifting through a trunk until he came to what he was looking for. It was the work of a moment but his hands were full as he came back, hesitating for only a second as he looked down at her cat. His dark eyes traveled back to her and he clenched his jaw. Her cat. As though she’d owned it for more than a few hours. Laying out his treasures on the bed, he walked over to the portico.
“Clever,” he said from the doorway. “You’re right. I’m not a noble.” Leaning his shoulder on the doorway he let his eyes wander over her. After a moment he said, “Will you agree to a truce for the moment? I want to see something.” Stepping out, he slid his fingers gently over her arm before taking hold of her wrist and drawing her inside, back toward the bed.
He moved calmly, without hurry, with a gentleness he did not feel. Inside he was not yet done with her; there was no forgiveness of her teasing, the callous way she threw his own threats back at him. Yet he betrayed nothing, merely nuding her to sit on the bed as he sat beside her, reaching over her for the glittering pile and dropping it in her lap.
“Put them on,” he said, plucking out glittering bracelet. These things hailed from Egypt, where silver was held in higher esteem than gold, which was far less rare. He wanted to see the chain at her throat, the delicate earrings, her wrists bound in precious stones. There was a looking glass in the corner which he planned to take her to if she agreed to do as he asked.
She knew it would work. As much as Lukos liked to believe he was different than other men....that he could somehow resist her for the sake of profit, in the end, they were really all the same. Dangle the mere idea of intercourse in front of them and they all devolved into baseless rutting fools. With just the temptation of more, she ducked out easily from his arms; leaving him to contemplate what had just happened and how he'd let himself fall prey to such an easy bait and switch technique. But he wasn't the first to fall for such a ruse and he wouldn't be the last.
She left him to contemplate life at the table and wandered outside. He left her for some time as she didn't look behind her to see what he did. She assumed he needed a moment to steady himself after what she'd done as her position and value dictated that there was nothing he could do to act upon her temptation... which she was growing accustomed to understand. She plucked a few wildflowers alongside the path. They were tropical and wild with thick stems and vibrant colors. Long ignored and overgrown, she was sure Lukos and those who served him did little to cultivate them in the years they occupied the island.
when he joined her outside and asked for a truce, she turned to look at him; her hands full of blooms. She pushed a lock of hair away from her forehead with the back of her wrist and sighed before nodding; walking back to the portico to join him. He ran his hand down her arm and took hold of her wrist before drawing her back inside. She stared at him suspiciously; sure he was up to no good as he'd never been this accommodating before. She set the flowers on the table and went to the bed where he'd laid out all of the jeweled pieces. He bade her to sit down and then reached over her; lifting up the pile of jewels and dropped them on her lap. Thalia stared down at them a bit dumbfounded. Emeralds and rubies; silver and gold.. they were all brilliant and amazing. Even someone as disinterested in jewelry as she was could appreciate their beauty. As he told her to put them on, she slowly took the a silver jeweled snake bracelet from him and looked it over before glancing at him. ".....Lukos..."
She was at a loss for words. Each piece was more intricate than the last. Gold cuffs lined with amethyst. Necklaces that would fall down the front of her chest; dangling precious stones from between her breasts. Twisted armbands. Jeweled rings and golden headbands. This small handful was more than she'd ever owned. It was extravagant. He bade her to put them on and she frowned; still skeptical as to why he would ever offer such things to her. "This is.. " She paused and plucked up the whole lot of it in her grasp and placed it back on the bed. She could see the appeal... how it would draw him to taking the pieces.. In her mind, she could see herself draped in glittering precious jewels, gold, and silver. But these pieces didn't belong to her. They didn't belong to him. And they definitely didn't belong to her. "too much... I can't.." She stood hesitantly and walked away from the bed and all he tempted her with. She plucked up Artemis, who gave a recalcitrant grunt at being woken and walked to the back of the temple to the springs. She didn't understand him. One moment he was holding her down while she fought him tooth and nail to force a dog collar around her throat, and the next he was blanketing her in precious jewels and begging her to wear them. She let the cat go in the caves and wandered around the pools to the back entrance where the path opened up to the wooded cliffs beyond. Had it been dark she may not have noticed how they opened up. She could have walked off the edge accidentally without even knowing. But as it was the middle of the day, she stopped and stared out over the vast sea below and beyond. How had she gotten here? In all the fantasies she'd had for her life, this had never been even a consideration. Trapped on an uncharted island with a band of pirates, taken as a slave:? Not even in her wildest dreams could she have contemplated this outcome.
It was fascinating to observe the change in her expression as he dangled the bracelet, jeweled reflections dancing in her eyes. She took it and he tilted his head, waiting for her to immediately clasp it around her slender wrist but instead she stared at him. His name escaped her lips in a breathy whisper that made him straighten up from the sprawling posture of affected ease he’d had.
All at once she frowned and he saw what she was going to say before the words left her mouth. He sighed, dropping his gaze from her face to her hands and watched as she took the glittering pile off her lap and set it on the bed between them. There was regret there and it made a corner of his mouth twitch. So. She could be tempted. His predatory hunger had not changed or ceased, and it only tightened its grip on him as she stood irresolutely.
She grabbed the cat and moved through the temple toward the springs. He spared only enough time to grab one piece before following her; the shadow at her heels. Over her shoulder the cats eyes reflected the light they retreated from. The flicking tail was only just visible but he paid little attention to the animal. His eyes lingered on the exposed skin of her back, knowing exactly how smooth and soft it was now.
Moving over the path winding through the springs as though she’d been on it before, which he supposed she must have, he followed her until she came out on the cliffs. Though he’d had the nightmare of her throwing herself down to the rocks below, as he watched her now, there was no fear of its coming true. She did not move away as he walked up to her. The path here was stone worn smooth over time. No rocks cut into his bare feet and he stood beside her a moment, scanning the horizon.
“These were not meant to languish in a chest,” his voice was low but held no malice. He was looking down at the piece of jewelry he’d brought with him. A silver necklace fashioned into a twisting chain of sapphires. “You don’t have to keep it,” he murmured. It was almost unnatural feeling to be standing side by side, staring out at the same ocean. The relaxed manner he feigned was starting to wear thin.
Lukos moved behind her and reached around, letting the metal slide over the delicate bones of her chest before drawing it up where it came to a rest at the base of her throat. His eyes lingered on her neck and for a brief moment, as he clasped the necklace closed, he almost rested his chin in the curve of her shoulder. Instead, he traced her spine again, resisting the urge to do anything more.
“You’re an unusual person,” his fingertip was midway down her back. “I think it only fitting that you do not go to the market in Colchis.” Gripping her by the hips and spinning her around, keeping his hold on her, he let his eyes wander over her face as though he was touching her. “You are too used to finery.” His fist bunched in the fabric of her chiton. The best part of this place he had in mind is that it would keep her at an uncrossable distance. This woman was trouble and there was little point inviting more of it into his life, much less keeping her here against her will. She demonstrated too many times that she would not be cowed, she would not submit, she refused to break and he was not the man who cared enough to take the measures that would ensure her full cooperation.
He followed her like a shadow; from the front of the temple to the back, anywhere she went it seemed that he was concerned that she might disappear again. So long as he saw her, she wouldn't fade into the mist as she'd done two days ago. He wouldn't have to search the island for her. When she'd plucked up Artemis, she'd gone for space; for the desire of freedom after whatever that display was back then, she'd needed it. Two days ago he'd thrown her to the ground and pinned her so he could place a collar on her throat; his eyes piercing and murderous as she fought against him. Today he was pinning her to tables and showering her in precious gems. He'd kidnapped her and thrown her in a cage after chaining her and bruising her to the point that her face was still grey and yellow from the force of his backhand. She didn't trust him and as far as she knew, he still had no desire to return her to where she belonged.
Even as she walked away, she heard the rustle of the precious metal as he fished through the various pieces and the padding of his feet as he followed her. She sighed but resigned herself to his company as she moved back outside to the cliffs. The view from the steep drop was beautiful. It stretched for miles at the highest point on the island. She could see distant islands on the horizon; hazy from the day's heat. She looked down as he showed her the necklace; telling her it didn't belong packed away and she frowned. Her fingers itched to trace the pear-shaped gems but she kept her hands folded in front of her. He told her she didn't need to keep it and then moved to her back to drape the piece around her neck. She could have fought him; grabbed the necklace and torn it from his hands. Instead, she lifted the main ornament; a blue sapphire lotus flower with a yellow sapphire center and stared at it as he clasped it behind her neck. His finger trailed down her spine again. She let the piece fall against her decolletage; deciding that she wouldn't deny him the one piece. He murmured to her about her uniqueness before turning her about by the hips. She folded her arms in front of her; fingering the delicate piece as he told her he wouldn't bring her to the market. a bit of a flutter ricocheted through her stomach and she stared up at him. "Will you take me home..?" She asked him softly, though her voice was firm. She wasn't so childish as to expect too much from him. She wasn't an overly optimistic person; more realistic in the placement of where she was at a time and nothing read in a way that meant she would see her family again anytime soon.
When he denied her query, she sighed and stepped out of his grasp. Stepping back around him to move down the hill; the gown caught in the breeze behind her as she descended back down the path and into the cave. She felt as if she was slowly chipping away at him; making progress in the right direction. But she didn't have enough time for that. If they were leaving tomorrow, she wouldn't have much more time after that to ensure her freedom as when they were on the ship, he was dedicated to the daily operations on board and then sleeping when he was finished. But he was unreasonable. He wouldn't discuss the prospect of letting her go right now no matter how hard she pushed and it seemed the more she pushed, the more he pushed back. the best idea she had was to find her blade and demand her release.... but even that seemed next to impossible.
The question was music and it drew a heartless smile across his face. Of course she wasn’t going home. That notion had never entered his mind and never would. He hadn’t brought the necklace to be kind, or any of the other treasures. They were to remind her of what she was for; to be beautiful. He slowly shook his head and she sighed.
He let her slide out of his grip and made no move to touch her again as she stepped around him. The breeze toyed with the gauzy fabric of the gown. She was slowly weakening. Lukos stayed on the cliffs for a while. He sat down, hugging his knees to his chest, turning his face into the warm, west wind. Before, when he’d half convinced himself that he didn’t care if he broke her spirit or not, it was a lie.
There were too many conflicting things that he wanted from her and none of it really mattered. She would be gone in a few days. His thoughts turned from there to the ship and specifically the cabin. Likely she would insist on not sleeping on the floor again and he wasn’t sure that he would fight her on it. If she was not staying, was not to be his slave, then what did it matter what bad habits she picked up? That would be for Imbrasus to remedy.
He knew the man only a little and even that was more than he cared to. There were few people in the world that bothered him the way Imbrasus did but it wasn’t for his own sake. To him, the man was unfailingly polite. Lukos had sold to him only twice but each girl had fetched an amazingly high price. He’d stayed away from him for the last two years. If he was inclined to indulge in thoughts that made him wonder into which part of Hades he would be sitting for eternity, selling those two girls to Imbrasus was one of the things he was fairly certain would land him in the Fields of Punishment.
When the thought of her walking through Imbrasus’s gates didn’t give him the wicked thrill he’d assumed it would, he stood up to get away from the image. Instead he thought about the sack of gold drachma that would weigh heavy in his hand. That, he decided, was all that needed thinking about. Phaedra was responsible for her own fate. He would simply deliver her to it.
Evening soon descended but rather than in the temple, it found him down in the ship where she had slept the night before. He’d passed through the springs and the temple, leaving her to her basket of things. All he’d stopped for were his boots and his weapons, though he left the dagger under the mattress where it always sat. She did not know it was there and he saw no reason for her to find it.
Lukos had the remarkable ability to keep from dwelling on unpleasant topics. As soon as he’d decided to push Imbrasus from his mind, the peculiar feeling in his chest was gone. In the setting sun, he worked with Arktos and the other men as they loaded up the slaves back into their cages, getting them back aboard ship. Unlike the first night that they were captured, they seemed almost glad for a change of scenery. Each person looked about them as they were carried over the island paths but once on the ship, their faces fell again.
As before, he didn’t look them in the eye; merely treated them like they were cats in baskets. Setting them gently here and there, ensuring they had food and water, but not speaking to them. It wasn’t until full dark, when most of the men had gone back to the village to see their families one last time that he sat in his bunk, drinking alone. Unlike the other night, he did not drink to excess. Just enough to feel warm. He set the bottle down and reached under the bed for the bronze shackles.
All the other slaves were here. She should be too. He had the idea that if he came for her in the morning, she might resist. Slinging the chains over his shoulder, he left his cabin and began the trek up the hill. Her liberties had been extreme up to now. It was time that ended.
Phaedra wasn’t here for his amusement. She was not here to goad him, to fight him, and she certainly wasn’t here for his pleasure. She was bound for somewhere and someone else. It was time he started acting like it.
The moon was high by the time he stood at the base of the steps. The air was damp pressing against his exposed forearms and his neck. He situated the chains now so they wouldn’t clink as he walked. Above him, the temple was dark and he supposed her to be asleep. Slipping out of his boots, he silently ascended the steps, hovering in the doorway to give his eyes time to adjust in the darkness.
He could see her in the bed. Something stirred inside him as he moved closer. One arm draped carelessly above her head, visible even in the darkness. Her other arm lay protectively over her stomach. The sheets were tossed so that her thigh was wholly exposed. He stood just beside her now, his leg nearly touching hers at the edge.
For a moment, he had the insane idea of dropping the chains and climbing into bed with her, peeling the sheet back the rest of the way. That thought he shoved violently aside. This was not what he’d come for.
One shackle was open in his hand. He lowered himself silently until he was level with the hand on her stomach. It took some doing, but he shifted as quietly as the chains would allow, slipped the open cuff under her wrist, and pushed it closed with his thumb. It locked with a soft click.
Thalia wasn't the only one softening. At least not in her estimation. He didn't try to stop or fight her when she stepped out of his hold and this time he didn't follow her when she walked away. What was said had been said and they were at a stalemate. She wouldn't accept anything less than being taken home, and he wouldn't take her home. So there was nothing left to say.
Thalia went back to the temple and set about keeping herself busy. She wished she could train. She missed the back and forth; the physical exertion of it. It'd been days and she felt like she was already getting soft; out of practice and out of shape. She plucked the wildflowers up and found a rather ornate vase that was sitting atop one of the crates. Getting some water from the springs, she placed them inside and set them at the center of the table. She sighed because no matter what she did, nothing seemed to better the look of the temple. It was just far too much of a hodgepodge and nothing was set up correctly. She pulled the sheets off the bed and threw them on the floor before removing the pillows so she could remake it. Flicking the bottom sheet over the bed, she tucked it in around the corners so it would be tight. When she'd rounded to the side of the bed her fingers grazed against something hard and she furrowed her brow curiously before lifting the mattress enough to find the dagger tucked beneath it. Her eyes widened and she glanced at the back of the temple before dropping the mattress unceremoniously. Internally, she crowed in triumph. It was all she needed. ....But there was nothing she could do with it right now. She'd have to bide her time.
Hastily she made up the rest of the bed; draping the top sheet over it and a blanket before tossing the pillows back on. Artemis wandered back in and hopped up onto the bed; finding a comfortable place in the middle. Thalia straightened out the items from her basket; placing the candied fruits in a bowl and cleaned the rest away. When he wandered through later, she paused to watch him. But he didn't acknowledge her; simply passed back through to the front of the temple and down the path. She padded slowly after him; crossing her arms over her chest and raised one hand to toy with the lotus flower necklace. She watched him make his way down to the ship from the portico of the temple and leaned against one of the massive columns.
The island had a certain magical beauty to it when staring down at it from above. She could see why the temple was built here; it would give Ares adequate view of his subjects and elevate his status in the hills. From here all of the crew looked like tiny ants; scrambling about the boat and docks to load the crates. Even when she went home she would remember this.
The day grew long and the sun began to set; casting shadows over the village. She moved back inside and through the springs to the cliffs behind the temple and she sat down on the edge of the world so she could watch the sun sink into the water; it's fire burning across the sea as the stars peaked out overhead; the sky fading from yellow to orange and pink, to a dark indigo. The western breeze was warm on her face and it carried with it the smell of the sea. She closed her eyes and breathed it in.
When she returned, the servant girl had come and laid the table out with food and she ate alone as Lukos stayed away. The temple could be eerily quiet when no one else was there; with its dark shadows flickering around the perimeter from the lamps that were lit. After a time, she climbed into bed to settle in for the night; wishing she had a book or something to write with at the very least. She wasn't much of a reader, but it at least passed the time.
With nothing better to do, she finally laid down and went to sleep. The good thing about the temple was that, at the very least, it was a lot like her own home at night. She was used to the ancient house with stone floors and breezes that passed through the open gossamer drapes. Her quarters were not as dark and cool as the temple was, but the architecture was similar.
She didn't hear him when he slipped in; or feel him as he leaned over her. Aside from giving a soft sigh, she was perfectly still until the cuff clasped around her wrist. She gave a soft purr and made to move her hand but it wouldn't budge. In her unconsciousness, she fumbled through her confusion; furrowing her brow as she opened her eyes. She started as she saw him hovering over her "What're you..." Realizing that her wrist was cuffed she scrambled up in the bed; attempting to pull her hand free; adrenaline flooding into her system as she wrapped her hand around the chain and yanked it. Her eyes flashed and that same fight and fury came roaring back from two days ago. "Let me go.." Her voice was about as low and menacing as it could get. The fact that he'd slipped in under the cover of darkness when she was sleeping was....cowardly, even if it was effective. What exactly was his end game? After everything that had happened this afternoon? It was all a ruse to get her to trust him and it worked. Her face contorted in anger... anger at herself for letting her guard down and anger at him for taking advantage of it.
With the first cuff locked, the game was over. Even with her free hand, there was nowhere to go. He knew this and made no effort to hurry to imprison her other hand. She stirred, pulling her hand. The chain rattled and he leaned his knee on the bed at her side. All at once her eyes flew open and for a single second of confusion, she looked almost betrayed. He set his jaw against the look.
She shot up, gripping the chain. He laughed as she yanked it hard, attempting to pull free. The gesture did not move him. He kept one foot on the floor while his knee remained leveraged on the bed. After a second, she demanded that he let her go. In answer, he jerked the chain back, slinging her forward. His bicep bulged with the effort. When she crashed against him, he snaked his other arm around her waist and forced her back onto the bed.
It could have been an identical fight to the one when he’d collared her but he had not come to make her angry or toy with her. He’d come to take her to the ship. Making sure to keep his face out of reach, he slid his body across hers until he could half kneel on her body, effectively pinning her down. The harder he pressed his knee onto her chest, the harder it would make it to breathe.
No matter how she writhed beneath him or shouted or clawed, he ignored it and if she hurt him, he applied more pressure to her chest, stopping only when he thought her sternum might crack. Lashing out, he finally caught her flailing other hand, clamping down on it. In another swift motion, he had her other wrist cuffed. Immediately he backed off her but did not give her time to recover before ripping the chain up again so that she flew up.
Lukos caught her about the waist again and without stopping to assess her, he popped her up over his shoulder, and strode from the room out into the night. He kept the chain pulled taught, forcing her hands against his back while his other arm held her firmly on her thighs. Perhaps it wasn’t necessary to have done it this way. Perhaps he might have simply asked her to come. She might even have done it, knowing what would happen if she did.
More likely, he thought, she would have tried to sway him, give him some reason to either keep her here or take her home. He wanted neither. What he wanted was to be free of her. She was occupying too much of his thoughts, too much of his time, his space. Whatever he liked to pretend, she wasn’t a slave and likely never would be. Which made her useless to him.
He hadn’t thought through taking off his boots and didn’t bother to stop for them. She was shrieking like a harpy, making it difficult to ignore her noise. Her fists pounded his back with what little freedom she had but he kept walking, barefoot, down the hill. The few people who had been awake were gathering at the base of the hill, with more following. The sun would soon be up and it was just as well that they got an early start.
“Make ready!” Lukos roared over her screaming to Arktos who was shrugging into his shirt, just meeting him at the dock. Arktos glanced at her backside and then at Lukos but did not offer to take her. With the crowd, Lukos had about as much as he could take from her. He slapped her backside hard enough to leave a handprint and started forward again but it didn’t have the desired effect.
All the way to his cabin he fought her until he kicked open the door and slung her on the bed. The chains hit the wall and he lept on her, squeezing her hips with his thighs and covering her mouth with his hand. “Shut up!” he hissed.
With a swift pull, he tugged her forward and off her axis. She yelped as her body slammed against his; her face too close. She could smell the wine on his breath and she wondered if he was drunk again.. but the hardness in his eyes and his control lead her to believe that no, he was quite sober. She sucked in a breath and the fire in her eyes wavered for a moment; a glimmer of fear betraying her features as she remembered the last time he'd been like this; how he'd pinned her down.
He pushed her down forcefully onto the bed and pressed his knee against her chest and she flailed against him; beating at his thigh and chest with her fists; the chains buffeting them. He pushed down harder on her chest; into the bed. The harder she fought, the more he leaned his weight on her; crushing her breasts until she was gasping for breath.. She turned instead to push at him; trying to get him off her chest and he took her other hand and wrapped the iron around it; Fingers clawed at his hands as her face contorted in rage leaving red bloody streaks where her nails tore the skin from his arm. If only she could get to the edge of the bed, she could find the dagger and end this right now..but she was too firmly pressed down.
With the second cuff secured, he immediately got off her and she sucked in a breath of painful air just before he yanked her forward by the chains. He wrapped his arm around her waist and twisted her until she was propped atop his shoulder. Immediately she set to punching and kicking him as hard as she could, but he gave a yank and tightened his grip on her chains and he tugged them so she couldn't move them. She screeched viciously; her voice echoing off the high ceilings of the temple; frightening Artemis away. Without a second thought, he stomped out of the temple and down the path to the village; all while she screeched so loud, there as no way she would have a voice by tomorrow. She elbowed and kicked and flailed...to hell if she fell off, she'd never let him get her back on his shoulder. What was it with these brutes, anyways. She was perfectly capable of walking. Did it make them feel more powerful to completely incapacitate her by flinging her over their shoulders?
the crowd seemed to follow them down to the boat in some messed up procession and Lukos stopped long enough to greet Arktos; all while she railed. When he reared back and slapped her ass, she gave a yelp in pain and paused her screeching out of surprise before she doubled down on her rage and screeched even louder; arching her back and punching his ribs. He carried her aboard and down the stairs to his quarters; pushing through the door before he flung her off his shoulder onto the bed. She gave a grunt as her back slammed into the hard surface and she immediately started screeching again.
His body clambered atop hers; squeezing her hips with his own and his hand pressed down firmly over her mouth; muffling her screeches. As they were rendered useless, she stopped enough to attempt to catch her breath; her chest heaving beneath him as she narrowed her eyes at him; fingers fisting into the chain. She grabbed its length with both hands and swept the chain up; slamming it against his shoulder; his head; his arms; using its weight and length as the only weapon she could against him. She'd continue hitting him with the chain as hard as she could until he either let her go, or was able to get her under control.
He kept his hands on her mouth, glaring, only his hold easing as her shrieks subsided. Her breath was hot against his hand and for a moment, they were both still. Their breathing synchronized. As if to prove how much he could underestimate the woman beneath him, he foolishly assumed that she might cow down and be civil. Leaning back, he looked down at her, seeing the fiery rage that gave him pause. The chains clinked beneath him.
All at once pain burst through the muscle of his shoulder. Instinct took over. He raised that shoulder as though to block another blow on that side but he mistook which direction she would take. The chain slammed across his face. Agony exploded inside his head. His mouth tasted like the chain had ripped through it. She reared back again but he caught the chain with his arm before she could do further damage.
It wrapped around his forearm like a snake. He grabbed it in his fist and ripped her up while at the same moment driving his fist into her gut. Keeping her up against him, he swayed on his knees, blinking hard, attempting to maintain focus. Having her this close, her face almost against his, her arms wrenched up as he held the chain high above his head, was making him dizzy. The perfumes that she’d used cascaded down over him and his stomach lurched.
He spit blood, only just managing to turn his head. The hand he’d used to punch her clutched her back, his fingers digging into her skin, holding on like she was his anchor to consciousness. For several heart beats, he fought to keep awake. The ringing in his ears was deafening.
Their chests were pressed together and he timed his breathing with hers, mentally counting but his lips were moving, unaware that he was saying words aloud. Dots swam across his vision but they were clearing. Without easing his hold on the chain, he forced her down until she was flat on her back so that he could pin her there. He rested his forehead on her chest. His jaw ached and he tongued the jagged cut inside his mouth.
“Fuck you,” he breathed into her skin. Then, louder, “Fuck you.” Taking his arm out from underneath her, he reached up to her face and caught her by the jaw, squeezing the pressure points until he was sure she was hurting just as badly. Bringing his face up, he dragged his tongue across her mouth, leaving a smear of blood before he shoved violently away from her, backing off the bed and standing pressed against the door.
The chains hit his shoulder with a sickening thud. Had she been more in control of her emotions, she may have stopped there. But she wasn't. She reared back and swung them again; hitting true so the folded chains slammed across his face; wrapping around his head and he fumbled in his hold for her. Each time she hit him she let out a grunt of effort as she didn't have the room to swing very well, she was going off the sheer force of will and what little strength she had.
The third time she swung he caught the Chains and hauled her up to him; slamming his fist into her stomach. Diomedes had practiced throwing punches with her when they trained. She was good at blocking each one. He'd even made her tense her stomach up so she could take a punch. But she always knew he was holding back. Still, there was a difference between being ready for a punch, and being sucker punched. all at once, all the air flew from her lungs and she felt like she would throw up. She coughed violently; unable to wrap her arms around her stomach for comfort. He gripped her torso to him and she coughed into his shoulder; her nails digging into her palms. She felt him wavering over her and when she finally stopped coughing, she wheezed against him; trying to suck air back into her lungs. His heated breath exhaled numbers into her ear as he counted incoherently. She fought her own stars before he finally pushed her arms back; laying her down on the bed. She didn't fight him. She couldn't if she wanted to.
His forehead buried itself between her breasts and she stared up at the ceiling; taking short, gasping breaths. They were the only thing her diaphragm allowed her to do. They lay there; he crouched and bleeding over her and her trying to keep from throwing up, for a while before he finally murmured against her chest. As the adrenaline faded from her system she felt..exhausted.. spent and close to passing out. She couldn't raise a fist against him if she tried.
He pushed himself off her and cursed her again and through her panting, she stared up at him. His fingers curled around her jaw and tightened into the pressure points along it. She winced and gave a whimper as his hand tightened unmercifully against her face. She parted her lips enough to tell him to stop and he leaned down and licked her mouth which she'd pursed closed. She gave another whimper as her eyes welled up with tears.
Finally, he pushed off her and she sucked in a deep breath; curling into a ball so she could cradle her stomach with her arms as he cursed again and went to the door. She didn't get up to follow him or even watch him leave. They were both fighting as if their lives were on the line...only hers was the only one that was. And sooner or later one of them was going to kill each other. "Just.... Go..." Her voice came out watery and guttural; as if she was on the verge of throwing up. And the way her stomach throbbed and roiled, she was close to doing just that.
Blood pooled in his mouth. He stood there, pressing his back against the door, watching her cry, and debated whether or not to spit it out as he’d done before, or swallow it. Swallowing blood always made him queasy for hours; knowledge gained from being hit more times than he could remember but never by a woman. Not like that.
A sudden burning on the back of his hand made him look down. Three clear, red nail tracks glistened against his ripped skin. Somehow he hadn’t noticed before now that she’d scratched him too. He spit the blood out and haphazardly wiped his uninjured hand across his mouth, blood now coating this one too.
His breathing evened out but the ringing headache remained, lending a certain hardness to his eyes as he watched her curl into herself on the bed. Her order for him to leave did not inflame him the way it might have but instead made him feel cold; like there was a hollow emptiness inside his chest. He resisted the temptation to walk over to her, to see if she was alright. Certainly he hadn’t meant to punch her quite as hard as he had.
Lukos raised his hand up to his eyes and curled it into a fist. He twisted it this way and that before looking over it at her. She looked small. Very unlike the demon that had been wailing on him with shrieking rage. Dropping his fist, he turned, opened the door, and shut it softly behind him.
He did not have the luxury of collecting himself alone out in the passage. Arktos and Bianor stood at the base of the steps, one crossing his meaty arms over his barrel chest, while the other stood wide eyed and tight lipped. Lukos swiped at his mouth again but the action only brought fresh pain. His face was pounding. As he neared Bianor, the old man pointed at him and said, almost in a whisper, “You’re bleeding.”
“That bitch,” Arktos offered a grimy rag from his belt. Lukos stared at it for a second and then dabbed at his face, actually surprised when he pulled it away to find there was a goodly amount of blood on it. There was a thin gash on his cheek from where the chain first struck him. It was superficial at worst but wounds to the head tended to bleed a good deal.
“Give the word,” Arktos continued.
“Shut up,” Lukos mumbled, shoving between them to walk up the stairs. The sun was just beginning to rise but there was no flurry of activity on board the ship. The members of the crew and village that were present stood still and only started moving when they heard him coming up on deck.
From the bottom of the stairs, Arktos called up “Want to keelhaul her?”
Lukos spun around, regretting it immediately and clung to the railing for support. His vision jumped but he stood firm. “Shut. Up.” He hissed from between clenched teeth. Even that hurt. Arktos glanced down at Bianor who did not take his eyes from Lukos.
There was no time to indulge the pain or nurse his headache. He simply had to keep going, keep walking, keep waving off questions or looks. It took several hours but at last all the cargo was on board, stored down in the hold. The slaves were situated much like they had been before, most on the middeck, some down below.
For his part, Lukos made a show of being seen, working, hauling, cursing; though none of it was done with his usual undaunted vigor. Late afternoon found him on the top deck, sitting under the railing. After hours and hours, his headache finally abated. The bleeding had stopped on his face and in his mouth. At some point he’d ordered that the girl be brought food and water and that someone should clean his blood off the floorboards of his cabin.
All this was done and still he did not go down the stairs. Evening fell and Bianor and Arktos came to give reports. Both knew better than to ask him how he fared. When they were sent away, he sat alone for several more hours until the sun had fully set below the water. Stars shone above him, ambivalent to the violence and pain below.
He had a notion that he might sleep up on deck but the wind passing over him was not warm. Sliding his tongue over the ragged imprints of his teeth inside his cheek, he at last hauled himself to his feet. His reluctance to face her surprised him. She’d beat him with the chain. Slamming his fist into her wasn’t necessarily uncalled for. Yet he could not forget the way his knuckles had met no resistance, only soft flesh and the way she’d clung to him afterward.
The walk across the deck was a long one and descending the dark stairs was worse. He moved gravely to the cabin door and pushed it open with his fingertips, moving sideways inside so as to offer as little of his body to her as possible. There was no immediate attack, however and he lowered his fist. His gaze took in the room, the window. Her. At last, when he was sure she wasn’t going to come at him, he shut the door and pulled off his boots, kicking them under the bed.
He would not look her in the face. Instead his eyes would rest on her shoulders or her hands or her legs. Never higher than her chin. The empty feeling in his chest had persisted the entire day and showed no signs of easing. With nowhere else to sit, he took the end of the bed but changed his mind and laid his full body on it, inching up so that his head rested on the pillow with an arm underneath it. His gaze lingered on the beam running across the room.
Her face throbbed from how he'd gripped it. It was the reason why her eyes were watering, though leave it to him to think she was crying. She saved that for private. She'd never let him see her cry. And the muscles in her stomach felt bruised and injured. Like she had a knot coiled inside of it. Her hands remained tight around her waist as if she could somehow hold in her insides if she just gripped her torso hard enough.
She heard him panting across the room; still not having left and her nails bit into her palms. If she had the strength she would have stood for round two. But she just didn't have it in her and since he wasn't fighting her anymore, she wasn't going to chase him. Finally, she heard the wooden door creak open and then close silently behind him as he stepped out. She heard muffled voices beyond, but no one came back in.
When her stomach finally felt like she wasn't going to throw up if she rolled the wrong way, she uncurled from the ball on the bed and slid a shaky foot to the floor. She stood to open the back window; needing some fresh air. She leaned out on the sill; careful not to press her torso against the hard wall and glanced out. They were moving away from the port; the boat gliding back smoothly; slow enough at first that she wasn't sure if she was just imagining it. She closed her eyes and lowered her forehead to her folded arms. She took a deep breath from between the circle of her arms and then stepped back away from the window. The only question she kept asking herself was "why"? She wasn't so naive as to think he would keep her on the island, and even then she didn't want to stay. If he'd come and asked her to go to the boat, she would have. Granted, she probably would have asked him if he was taking her home, but by this point, she was growing accustomed to the idea that he wasn't going to.. that he was likely going to try and sell her. Her leverage would come when he did so. She would offer the person who purchased her four times what he paid. Because not everyone was as unreasonable as Lukos.
She took a shuddering breath before laying back down on the bed; pulling the drape she'd brought on board two days ago over her slender frame. She tucked the pillow beneath her head and willed herself to go to sleep. It was still incredibly early out and he'd woken her up while it was still dark. Instead, she just laid there staring at the door; listening to the heavy boots that moved across the deck and the muffled orders of the men. The steady drumbeat as the crew rowed below deck.
When breakfast was brought in, she stared at the man who brought it. He set it up on the table; glancing at her in wide-eyed fascination; even desire. Thalia glared back at him. She'd like to see anyone try anything with her. As if in emphasis, she gripped her hand tighter around the chain.
The man left her with the food and she ignored it. Instead, she turned her back to the table and tucked her chin to her chest; willing herself to sleep...and she did. Fitfully.
The day at sea passed by as slow as they always did. She couldn't leave the room, but it was better than the cage. She could only sleep so much and she didn't feel like doing anything save look out the window or lay in bed. Darkness fell over the ship and they set it to drift for the night. Thalia sat in the middle of the bed with her knees drawn up; wide awake as she'd not spent a lick of energy. Finally, the door was pushed open and Lukos moved inside with his fist raised protectively. Her lip quirked up in the corner, but otherwise, she didn't move; simply stared at him over her folded arms she propped atop her knees in front of her.
He closed the door and moved across the room; kicking his boots off and tossing them below the bed. She expected him to tell her to get out of the bed. He looked at her...well.. he looked everywhere but at her face and she frowned; still not moving from her seat. But he said nothing. Instead, he sat on the foot of the bed; his shoulder to her. And after a while, he lay down; scooting himself up until his head found the pillow. There was nothing said, and whatever strife they'd had earlier that morning had now devolved into uncomfortable companionship.
She closed her eyes and lowered her forehead to her arms; her voice muffled and soft as she spoke. "You could have just asked. ...Why didn't you just ask..?"
If she had spoken in harsh tones, glared at him, jumped on him and started hitting him again, he would have known what to do. He lay there, muscles tensed, ready for anything. He supposed he’d been ready for anything. She draped herself over her knees and as much as he was just staring at the ceiling, he could see her movement, or lack of it, in his peripheral vision.
"You could have just asked. ...Why didn't you just ask..?”
He sucked in a breath to answer but held it instead. Under his head, he could feel the tendons in his arm flex as he made a fist. The fingers of his other hand toyed with the fabric of the blanket and at last, he turned over so that his back was facing her. It was preferable to stare at the wall. But the question pursued him, soft as it was, unobtrusively asked. Her words dogged him no matter where he tried to look. His breath seethed out slowly between parted lips.
He pictured her sprawled out on his bed, her arms draped carelessly, her naked thigh open, inviting touch. The moonlight obscured everything but her skin. She had been peaceful and he wondered, now, belatedly, how she seemed to be so comfortable wherever she found herself, whatever he did. Almost whatever he did.
Lukos half turned and stared at her back. She was exposed, her posture not ready to fight. With a sigh he sat up so that he was beside her. Looking down at his hands, he turned one over and inspected the scratches extending from his wrist to his knuckles.
“Phaedra,” he began with a light tone that did not match his expression. “Wake up. I would greatly appreciate it if you would walk with me down to the ship and sleep with me in the cabin. We are leaving at first light and it would make my life easier if I had all my slaves onboard before daybreak. You don’t mind leaving everything behind, do you? Good. Thank you for being so understanding that you’ll never see any of this or your family again.”
Reaching over, he slid a finger under her chin and forced her to look over at him. Serious dark eyes searched hers and he narrowed his gaze, running his rough thumb over her bottom lip.
“That would have worked?” his voice matched hers. Soft. Incredulous. Withdrawing his hand he pushed back onto the bed again, laying down. Gods he was tired. He wanted to shut his eyes but she was still chained. A strong part of him considered hooking her to the metal ring again to take away her option of hitting him. Yet that would definitely result in another fight and his lust for that had been more than filled.
Reaching out, he curled his fingers into the back of her chiton in an effort to get her to lay back. There was no sleeping if she was going to be so obviously awake. He didn’t trust her like she obviously wanted him to. He wanted her stretched out beside him, sleeping. Once she was down, he would remove the cuffs.
When he turned away, she wasn't sure he was going to answer. And to be honest, she didn't have the fight in her to talk to him endlessly until he finally caved as she'd done so many times before until she got her way. Annoying the hell out of him just didn't seem to take on the same prideful satisfaction it did a week ago. But then again, living constantly on the defense was exhausting. Even in their worst arguments as adolescents, her brothers and she never stayed enemies more than a few days. She'd never had to carry on this level of vitriol for so long.
She leaned her shoulder against the wall; resting her forehead against the rough wood. After a sigh, he sat up beside her and she glanced at him from her peripheral vision. Using the name she'd given him felt..wrong. But she still wasn't willing to relent on that. After what he'd done to her today she'd take her name to her grave. She frowned at his long-winded and detailed request. Clearly, this man had never been a salesman. She turned enough so she could look at him when he tilted her chin. "Phaedra. It's time to get on the ship. We leave port in an hour."
She stopped at that. A lengthy explanation wasn't necessary. She knew all the details without reiterating the entire "arrangement" they had. It would have resulted in a lot less physical, as well as mental cuts and bruises. Why he thought it necessary to choose the most violent means necessary to take her down to the ship was beyond her....but then, Lukos did things in extremes. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. "That would have worked..."
He laid back silently and then after a moment, his finger grazed across her back and he tugged her chiton to lay down. She didn't fight him; laying by his side with his arm beneath her as if this was in any way natural. She sighed and turned towards him; resting her head on his shoulder since he was hogging the entire pillow. If he was going to stretch out on the bed as he was, this would have to do. The chains to her cuffs rattled as she tucked them between her and his body and after a minute she felt his hand take hold of one. Immediately, she tensed...but he wasn't forceful, so she let him turn it over so he could release them. (she really needed to watch when he did that so she could learn how) She lifted the other so he could repeat the steps and rubbed her bruised wrists when he pulled them away. They really were wholly unnecessary.
She considered thanking him for taking them off...but the idea seemed ridiculous. Like thanking someone when they gave you a salve after they'd beaten you. She stared at the door to the cabin and sighed. There was no way she was going to sleep. The walls were closing in on her and the cabin was too small. In the same quiet tones, she gave one final request. "...Take me for a walk?"
When he relented, she rose with him and clambered out of bed; following him out of the cabin an,d lifting her chiton, she climbed the stairs to the main deck. It wasn't as deserted as it was the night of the storm, but then, she was wearing more clothes now so that was fine. They were smoking doing a few last minute duties. So she walked over to the railing and leaned against it; taking a deep breath of the sea air. The evening breeze was cool and the sky was blanketed in stars; only a few skud clouds dotted the sky and she stared up in awe at its vastness. There were no trees or hills to break up the horizon so with the reflection of the water, she could almost imagine the ship was floating in an infinity of stars. She let out a breathy "...wow" of disbelief.
He was not surprised when she laid back but he was when she turned her face into his shoulder. His whole body stiffened as she tucked her hands between them. What she was doing was something he had not experienced in time out of memory. He had to have been less than twenty the last time any woman had felt in the least bit comfortable enough around him to actually rest there. With a deft flick of his fingers the first cuff came off.
She held up her hand for the second one to be released. Lukos finally dragged his eyes to hers. Without looking away from her, he undid the cuff. It fell in a rattle onto his hip before sliding off onto the blankets. His gaze strayed down her arms to her wrists as she rubbed them. When he looked back at her, she was staring at the door and he knew in that moment that sleep would have to be postponed.
He sighed from deep inside his chest and sat up, grabbing his boots from under the bed. She wasn’t naked this time. Probably he could trust that she would remain unaccosted but the problem was he could not take the risk. These first days at sea, she would be fine. His men had only just left their families and the beds of their wives. Yet she was beautiful in a way that none of their wives could compare.
He glanced at her as she sat waiting before he rose and opened the door. The stale air of the passage hit him but he ignored it as they walked up the stairs into the cool night. Perhaps he might have dwelled on her behavior, or his own but he was exhausted. His face hurt. His shoulder hurt from the chain.
She walked across the deck and leaned over the railing, staring at the stars and the water. Lukos, meanwhile, stood with his arms across his chest. Someone drifted up beside him. He had only to glance at the book clutched in the withered old arms to know who it was. He turned his attention back to her far more pleasant form as Bianor spoke to him.
“I commend your restraint,” he said his voice carried as though he wanted Thalia to hear. Lukos shifted. “If a woman had done that to my face, she would not be recognizable.”
“A woman would have to be willing to touch you first,” Lukos retorted
“I’ll happily forgo the joy if the end result is what happened to you,” Bianor quirked his eyebrows.
Lukos glanced down at him and then back at Thalia. She had asked him why he had not simply asked her to come down to the ship. First, his real reason had been what he’d said: he hadn’t believed she’d come on her own. The second reason was that he truly did not want to show her any degree of kindness. Yet here she was, up on deck simply because she’d asked it of him. Without her shackles and that had been his own doing.
He did not like to examine his own behavior where she was concerned. At first he’d thought to treat her like she did not exist. Except she delighted in igniting his rage. And he loved the thrill of a fight. It was what he knew and she could fight him like no one else.
Leaving Bianor, he joined her at the railing, leaning out but he didn’t look at the water. “Where did you learn to do this?” he pointed to the angry red line on his cheek but it appeared black in the darkness. “You fight like an animal.”