Gifts of welcome

Description:

Etienne Bernard

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    3 Posts    75 marks
Gifts of welcome
« on: July 11, 2018, 10:14:52 AM »

Celebrations. The whole temple was alive for it, draped in fabric and lights, from pinnacle to the sprawling city below. Grander than the Temple on Corlay, where Etienne had been born. Ruled by the Priestess Mother. Who had asked for him specifically. A high honor. Higher still to be allowed to sit so near.

Eulalie Reneux. Beautiful, but frigid, Etienne thought. Drawn by the song of her Jewels and the training of his mother. Ready to serve. But his lust wasn’t stirred, no matter how close she sat, or how often her hand rested on his knee (which was not so often as Etienne imagined). No what, or who, stirred his lust, was her companion.

The shadows at her flanks, but a real woman. A slave, Etienne knew, from having asked. From Terreille, they said, as if he had never been. Certainly he hadn’t found such beauty when he had gone. He wanted her, but she belonged to the Priestess Mother. A companion slave so that she did not have to worry about petty squabbles amongst her people for the honor. As such, she was untouchable, unlike the hundreds of others on the island.

He still wanted her. And Eulalie saw (Etienne thought she must see everything) and because she was kind, if cool, she gave her to him. It was as simple as that. Done as a feast was eaten on long tables, sagging beneath the bounty of Paon. ’Take her, my gift to you.’ The Priestess Mother had said prettily, and kissing the girls cheek, just as prettily (it made heat pool in his loins), Eulalie handed her over. The Pruulian girl whose name Etienne could not pronounce.

”You will be Blanche, now.” He informed her. And because one did not scorn a gift from a Priestess,  but elevate it, Etienne decided another thing. ”And you will be my wife.” Because he wanted her. And she had shared the company of the Priestess Mother. A worthy woman, even if she was a slave.

Blanche Bernard

    Purple Dusk Birthright
  • Black Widow
  • Played By: Jones

    war bride
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    3 Posts    121 marks
Re: Gifts of welcome
« Reply #1 on: July 11, 2018, 01:22:05 PM »
Take her. The words rang in her ears. Disappointment a bitter taste at the back of her throat as she looked between Lady Reneaux and the man. One of their warriors, his eyes as hungry as the others. Until that moment she had only looked at them in disdain. None, in all her time on the strange islands, had been allowed to touch her. She had grown comfortable and stupid, too sure of her safety from such things.

What a fool. Lulled into trusting her mistress. That Lady Reneaux was a woman master was part of the false sense of security, she supposed. That and the ease of the responsibilities laid on her in this new place. A slave, yes, but was she really when it only meant being an ear to their important lady? To sleep in a bed finer than any she had ever seen before, and to know the hands on her body would rarely curl in need. And never as violently as those that had touched before.

In the end it was not a position as she had thought. Not a thing she had earned with good servitude. Just a function she had filled. Discarded by this master as easily as she had been by her own mother. A gift.

To a man. This warlord prince with hungry eyes. Stomach weak with fear she sat in the chair they put beside him. Listening with her jaw clenched as he took the last vestige of her childhood. Name culled for one he could say more easily. ”Blanche.” She repeated dully. Trying it on. There were worse things to be called, she decided, scraping the scarred tip of one finger against the smooth skin on her palm.

Blanche his wife. Eyes flicking up she tried to read his face, her own coloring with a wash of emotions. Shyness that he declared it here where other people, important people, could hear. Surprise since being a wife was better than being a slave, at least by some margin. But also anger, because being a wife meant being fucked. What could she do? The lady was watching, everyone was watching.

Shoulders rising she shrugged, ”Then I will be your wife.” There wasn’t any other choice. For now.

Being watched by only one man would make running far easier than living in the temple had been. Maybe, if she was lucky, he wouldn’t share her with his friends first. ”Is there another wife?” She asked, trying to determine how many she would have to fool. To sneak by to reach her freedom. Some of them had large estates with hundreds of slaves. He didn’t hold himself the way those uppity raiders did, though. And he didn’t wear rings on every finger to display his wealth or status. It wasn’t a sure sign, but a girl could hope.

Etienne Bernard

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    3 Posts    75 marks
Re: Gifts of welcome
« Reply #2 on: July 11, 2018, 09:28:43 PM »

”Just so.” He touched a curl of her hair. Like gold silk in his fingers. Her pronunciation almost flawless. Etienne was pleased, but he did not smile. Watched her, instead, hair falling away as he dropped his hand. She was blushing. Blood stirring and making her face flushed. Etienne’s blood stirred too, but he did not blush.

Did not care who was looking, or listening. She was his, and what he chose to do with her was his alone.

”Of course you will be,” Etienne corrected her gently. For her sake, because people were listening and watching. The Mother Priestess especially.   But his smile was full of teeth. It might have amused him that she thought she had any say in the matter, had he been a man to laugh.

Relaxing into his seat, Etienne picked at the food on his plate. Hungry but too tense to eat. Too eager, if he was honest, turning his chair so he could see her better, long legs kicked out in front of him. His hair was braided to one side, the leather thong that held it studded with semiprecious stones.

”No. There is just you.” For now, his tone implied. Etienne chewed, eyes eating her. He drew her chair closer with his foot. ”Would you be jealous, if there were?” One day he would have another wife. A woman born to Paon. Spread his bloodline to Thure. Too concentrated back home. Here there were many new beginnings.

”Eat.” Tomorrow, he thought. They could get a priestess tomorrow to see them wed. Now he just had to choose if he would wait or not. ”Do you want me to feed you?” They had not brought her a plate. Not at the Priestess Mother’s side nor at his. He would feed her from his own. By his hand or hers.

Blanche Bernard

    Purple Dusk Birthright
  • Black Widow
  • Played By: Jones

    war bride
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    3 Posts    121 marks
Re: Gifts of welcome
« Reply #3 on: July 11, 2018, 11:19:46 PM »

Warning in the sharpness of his strained smile. A mistake made already. What a start.  Eyes shifting under her lashes Blanche lowered her head in apology. Shoulders low in submission. Lessons taught by a warlord prince brother. This time she was lucky. He didn’t raise his hand. There was a promise in the set of his shoulders, though, that he would hit her if she gave him reason.

She would have to be vigilant. Learn to read his moods. She started now, with furtive looks because she was too afraid he would mistake the intent of her interest. Too afraid to take her Purple Dusk out of her cabinet and try a probe. It was just another way they could control her, if they took it away. Before it had seemed impossible, but Lady Reneaux with her Black… If he asked, could she strip it away, right out of her psychic cabinet?

This man might ask it done too. Handsome a figure as he cut, he was a weapon- a spear that could not control itself once thrown. Like all men. Except for the strange ones that served in the temple, the eunuchs. She had not met one of those with a temper yet. Some people whispered that they were not men, but Blanche had seen one’s prick. So she didn’t know what it was they cut away to temper them.

Maybe she could find out and cut it off this man. Husband.

He lounged in his seat like a lion on a warm stone. Choosing pieces from his plate instead of licking blood from his paws. All his muscles tight, she had studied people from quiet slave corners enough to tell. Body aimed at Blanche. She sat stiffly, too short for her toes to reach the floor. Simple sandals keeping her feet from being bare. Touching the tip of her cold nose to her rounded shoulders she clung to the bottom of her chair.

Blanche tried to mask the sliver of hope that blossomed in her chest. No fretful wife at home to bully her, or watch her with suspicion. Good. Then the fear in her stomach jolted. Chair dragged closer with a foot as if she weighed nothing at all. Close enough now that she could smell the spiced woods of his bath water. Eyes on her again, all over her, as she tried to choose the right answer. Either could be deemed an insult, or a compliment. Was she supposed to be jealous or would he loath possessiveness? Thinking hard she shook her head. He had touched her hair. Maybe the bouncing curls would distract from her words. ”No. It isn’t my place. It is your right.” And no because he was an animal. Disgusting man. He would fuck her raw, she could tell already. But in a few moons he would get bored. Then she would find a way to escape! A way to get… somewhere. Anywhere. Pruul might be worse, but this was not the paradise they liked to pretend.

Sucking her lip she looked at the empty place at the table. Hunger a low gnaw in the pit of her belly. One she had grown accustomed to ignoring. Lightly fed to keep her Jewel weakly filled. She was not meant to eat at this table, with all of these people. Legs curling under her chair she chose to tell him the truth. ”I am too nervous to eat.”

Down the table another girl snickered. Blanche did not look. She didn’t have to look to know the sound was at her expense.

Etienne Bernard

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: dergon

    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    3 Posts    75 marks
Re: Gifts of welcome
« Reply #4 on: July 12, 2018, 11:11:45 AM »

He liked her hair. Etienne wished her shoulders were bare, they would look good adorned in only her curls. And his mouth. Stretching a leg out, he thrust his shin beneath her feet, which dangled in the air like a child’s. The rest of her looked nothing else like, thank Darkness. Sometimes a pretty face masked a disappointing body.

”Just so.” She was a quick learning. Etienne was glad. Stupid women had little worth, even if the clever ones were dangerous. At least they were usually smart enough not to get themselves killed. Ah, he hoped she was just clever enough that he wouldn’t have to strangle her. Pretty, small woman. Shy or scared or both, Etienne was not sure, her feet vanishing beneath her chair.

Nervous, she said. Etienne smiled. Nervous. He could believe it with the way she clung to her seat. As if at any moment he might swoop down and snatch her from it. She was very clever. Because he just might. But first... first...

A snarl twisting his lips and flashing his teeth. Eyes and head whipping around to find the source of the snickering. His now, he would let no one mock her. Craft racing along his line of sight. Painted fingers covering smirking lips. His precision was a blade. A cut. Sharp and severing so that she had nothing to hide her wickedness behind anymore. Settling, Etienne leaned closer to Blanche, the screams farther down the table nothing to his ears.

Beyond them the Mother Priestess was laughing, and sending servants to tidy the woman’s place. And remove her. Her fingers carried out after her squealing body.

”Come eat. You are safe with me.” Etienne promised. As long as she was clever and well behaved. ”You may sit in my lap, if it makes you feel better.”

Blanche Bernard

    Purple Dusk Birthright
  • Black Widow
  • Played By: Jones

    war bride
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    3 Posts    121 marks
Re: Gifts of welcome
« Reply #5 on: July 12, 2018, 01:49:35 PM »

He would not make her fuck his friends. Blanche realized it with a jolt that was not relief. It was cold horror. Eyes wide as they followed the path of his craft. Watched blood spurt where fingers had been a moment before. The scream on her own lips swallowed by something sticky in the darkest part of her heart. Ha! The black widow crowed while the girl beneath the caste trembled. If he had not let them ridicule her uncertainty then he would not let them taste her body either.

Pity was not an emotion she had ever learned to feel. So she set her face back to shy passivity. Watching Prince Bernard instead of the suffering creature they carted away. Squalling the entire time. Blanche said nothing, but absently pressed the severed tip of her own finger to her lips. Quietly content in the knowledge that she had not cried when it was her finger on the table.

They fawned over him from afar. The mindless women of Paon. Impressed by the swift accuracy of his violence. Blanche was not. Or maybe she was. It was clever craft. Terrifying craft. Could he cut out her legs as easily if she made a break for the horizon?

How far was his reach? Cheeks flushing at his offer she fingered the wood grain of the chair under her. Not stupid enough to believe she was actually safe. They always told her that she would be. If she submitted properly. And regardless of what choices she made, she ended up passed around or sold again. There was a part of her that wanted to resist him. Just as there was a part of her that wanted to embrace the promise.

In his lap was his prick; he just wanted to feel her weight on it, she was sure. But from his lap there was food that no one could take away without taking it from him. If she wanted any hope of running she had to eat.

That was the only reason she slid to the end of the chair. Toes reaching his leg before they reached the ground. She stepped to one side of him, waiting at his hip to see where he wanted her to sit. Knees weak with self disgust and fear.

When she settled into place she waited for the prying eyes of onlookers to turn back to their own food and conversation. ”They say you are only recently come to Thure.” Was his house new too? Empty and unfamiliar enough that he might struggle to find her in the dark if she tried to slip away. 
 

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