Áine is stirred from her sleep when her younger sister Eira comes bursting into her room and pulls her bedcurtain away. “Chickens are waiting, and eggs are boiling,” her sister singsongs, doing little pirouettes on the floor. Áine grumbles and sinks further down into her hay mattress, puling the pelt above her head with a soft moan.
“You’re in a good mood today,” she blinks with one eye above he pelt at her younger sister, seeing her freckled face shine and glow with excitement. “And you’re up early….”
Eira laughs, the sound chiming like clear bells in the small loft bedroom. Áine finally pulls the pelt away from her face and fastens her eyes on her younger sister. She suddenly remembers… The thought makes a slightly unwell feeling swell at the pit of her stomach.
“It’s Litha.” She states, remembering that this is one of the most exciting days this year for her sister. Áine crawls out of bed and rubs her eyes. “I’m up. Now go help mum milk the cows.” She’s not even sure how she knows the time she wakes up at is the same time their mother and the other women would be milking the cows. There is no daylight to indicate the time. Áine just knows.
Eira’s lips pucker for a second, then she turns on her heels and dart away from Áine’s bedspace. Áine pulls the curtains away fully and steps out of her bed, shivering slightly at the cold and damp air in the house.
Pulling her rough tunic on as well as an apron, she exits the house and makes her way to the smithy. There, she starts her morning routines with talking to everyone who comes by and wishes to see her father for metalworks.
When the day closes towards an end, Áine knows that her younger sister will be livid with excitement. Áine steels herself as she and her father close up the smithy.
Two shepherds had taken some of the livestock to the small village downstream. The neighbouring village was smaller than Áine’s and they frequently helped each other with produce. This day was unique as Litha was a day of celebration, and the livestock was a gift to help the smaller village prepare for their own celebration this evening.
Áine busied herself in the kitchen with her mother, only paying half attention to the conversation between Eira and their mum. Eira is livid and excited about the celebration. Áine glances out the kitchen window and sees the bonfire being prepared for the day. They would light it soon, and it would keep burning all night. After nightfall all the villagers would gather around the bonfire, dance, drink, and even the courageous would jump through the flames. She knows that her sister Eira is carrying a stone in her pocket that she plans to circle the bonfire with; to make a wish.
Past the bonfire, the other children of the village had gathered flowers and braided then into crowns and large rings to hang around the necks. She smiles slightly, remembering that she herself along with her sisters used to compete on who could make the prettiest crown, and then they would try and make their crush that summer wear it.
“That’s good Áine,” her mum praises, looking over her shoulder at the bread dough she’s been kneading. “Put it in the kettle and set in over the fire.”
Silently doing as she’s told, she lifts the dough off the stone slab in the kitchen and puts it in one of the iron pots, setting a lid on it and hanging it over the lit stove. Normally their mum would not let Áine bake, her hands constantly filthy from working the smithy with their father. But Litha was special, and all hands needed to help.
10:06
“What’s that about?” their mum suddenly mumbles, looking out the window at a group of villagers gathering around the bonfire. They look agitated. Coming to stand beside their mum, looking as well, Eira speaks softly under her breath. “It’s Caleyn and Jacob, the shepherds.”
“Back already?” their mom frowns, wiping her hands off on her apron. All three women exit the house, looking towards the steadily growing mass of villagers around the two shepherds. Áine spots her father in there, and their gaze meets. His has a look of concern on his face, hers is blank with curiosity. Dislodging from the rest of the villagers, her father makes his way over to them.
“Close up the house,” he states, wasting no time to explain. “Vikings have been spotted in the village to the south. They are come this way.”
It had been a long day of riding for Lothar and his man. His company existed of almost one and a half with a good four to five hundred well trained men among them. They travelled around as was their culture. They would settle for a few months at a time, pillaging the villages that surrounded it to the ground and then continue their way to the next place. Which is exactly what they were doing this day. They had pillaged their last home down to the last bits. The few that had survived had left a long time ago and the food that they had left was gone. His people were no farmers, they did not cultivate their own food sources. So they took it from others, like was their way.
It was when that sun started to go down that the glow of the bonfires in the distance became clear to him and he couldn’t help the smile at his face. “It seems we found our victims..” He grinned at his right hand man that drove to his side. “Take the woman and children, find them a place to settle.” He would order some of his men around. “Cut down trees if you have to.” They usually found an open space in the hills or claimed a piece of grassland. But there had been almost nothing but woods for miles. “Set up the animal pens first, I have a feeling we are bringing some back.” He barked. His men nodded to him and started to turn all of the people that were on foot away from the rest of the party. Leaving just the males behind that were on top of horses.
The rest of them made their way closer to the village before he turned to adres them. “I know it has been a long day of riding, but I am not accepting any weakness from any of you!” He barked out. “Get cut down, get left behind to die in your own pool of blood!” He warned them and got an ‘aay’ back from his man. “Bring me their life stock, bring me their food supplies, bring me their weapons and furs. Anything that proves useful to us I want to have it!” Again his men let out a yell to agree. That was when his face softened and a grin appeared on
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his face. “The fastest we slaughter the faster you can claim yourself a woman to celebrate. Now go!” He turned his horse around and started the sprint to the village. “Temoroth!” He yelled out, the cry of his men soon following behind him as they charged.
They came down on the village hard. They were seasoned man on well trained horses. They might not be disciplined, but that made them all the more dangerous. It didn’t take long for blood to flow on those fields and screams to fill the air. The bonfire that had burned in the middle of it was used to burn torches and then ignite houses to lure out the people that were hidden inside. Their first order of business was to murder anyone who could fight, to cut them down and spill their blood. The collecting of food and supplies would come once they were sure there was nobody left to defend said goods.
Lothar himself was covered in smears of blood on his bare chest, only one fresh scratch over his chest from the one lucky person that had touching him with their sword. Of course he no longer drew breath. Even his hair partially caked in the stuff. Not many remained and he took his time to look around. A grin on his face at his satisfaction. Not may had been lost, only a few of his own sprawled the ground and they were the greens that you would expect it from. He ascended his horse and left it in the middle of the battlefield, knowing the loyal creature would not run. He picked a random house that had not yet been set on fire and with one smooth kick broke down the door, his axe still in hard. “Knock knock..”
@ShadowCat
Her father stood there for a few more seconds, looking between his wife and daughters with an expression that turned increasingly impatient. “Eira, you help your mum close the house and release the animals. Chase them off into the hills. Áine, I need you to help me open the smithy and make sure our men are armed.”
“Armed?” she repeated, dumb folded for a second. “Are we fighting them?”
“Yes, girl. These men won’t settle for trade to leave us alone.”
“Why are we chasing out livestock up the hills?” Áine protested, entering the smithy behind her father, mechanically unlocking the hatch that opened a large portion of the wall. Outside, she saw the mass of village men already gathered outside waiting for weapons. “Dad?” she prompted, turning to look at him.
“We need to eat this winter love. Now make sure they all get swords, shields, and axes. Daggers too.” While he spoke, he collected a few bows and a couple of quivers of arrows, walking outside with them and handing them over to the village hunters. The hunters took the bows and immediately ran off down river, aiming to keep an eye on the approaching force.
Áine looked over the selection of weapons with a sigh, and then began handing them out to the men waiting outside. All around the village she saw the other women and children had been given the same instructions as her mum and Eira, locking up the houses, chasing off some of the livestock up the hills. They only kept a handful of animals for it to not look suspicious.
Seeing that all men with any capabilities to fight had been sufficiently equipped with weapons and the best armors the town could collect, Áine then helped her father close the smithy again. They shut the hatches and locked them closed. Her father came up and took her head between his hands, looking deep into her grey eyes.
“Go find your mum and sister. Hide in the crawlspace underneath the house.”
Áine frowed, shaking her head between his calloused and scarred large hands on her c
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heeks. “I can help fight dad. Let me help.”
“Absolutely not,” he answered her sternly. His expression was one that opened for no debate, and Áine gave in, her shoulders dropping in a sigh. “That’s my girl,” he praised and let go of her head, stepping back. “Now go, do as I say.”
00:26
Not lingering, Áine jogged through the village. All around her, she saw men gather and prepare themselves, women still locking up and making their houses difficult to break into. Áine didn’t know much about barbarians or raiders, but she did know that any raider looking for loot would be hesitant to burn the houses down, as that would destroy their spoils as well.
She reached her family’s house and saw her mum and Eira in the process of locking the animal stables. “Dad says to hide.” She was slightly out of breath and her cheeks had a rosy hue to them. Their mum shooed both girls inside the house and barricaded the door behind them. Quickly she pulled open a hatch in the kitchen floor, meant for storage, and ushered her daughters into it.
Áine hesitated, shifting her weight from one foot to another. “But dad?.... Isn’t he coming?” she trailed off. Her father had once been a good warrior, but he was sporting an injured hand from a long time ago. It’s the reason he’d taken Áine as his apprentice and second set of hands in the smithy.
“Don’t argue lass. Not now of all times. Hide! Your father and the other men will know what to do.” Their mother forcibly pushed both girls down into the dark hole, before closing the hatch and moving furniture around to hide it.
Áine crawled over to the stone foundation of the house, peeking through the small airshafts that provided ventilation of the basement. She didn’t have a clear view of the village from there, but she could see some of it. Eira pressed up next to her, the side of her face coming up to rest against Áine’s. “I wanna see.”
Moving a little so they could both peek out through the hole, they fell silent. Bated breaths shifting the dust around with the only available light coming through the airshafts. Above their heads, they heard their mum still rummage around and then the telltale sound of all window shutters being latched closed. The hairs on Áine’s arms stood when they heard the rumble of horses closin
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g in on the village. Men began shouting orders at each other, and soon after there was screaming. It felt like it took forever, watching what little they could see and only imagining all the horrible things they couldn’t.
00:26
Suddenly they saw their father fighting with his sword against a riding man. Their father knew how to fight, but his hand would not allow for finesse. He took the man down by injuring the horse to kneel and buck off its rider. Their father made short work of the man. Áine could feel her sister stiffen next to her, witnessing the violence, but she didn’t do anything to try and stop her. It wasn’t until another rider came up behind their father that Áine gasped and put her hand over Eira’s eyes to pull her away from the small window. “Don’t look.”
“Dad…” Eira whimpered, shaking with shock and muted cries. “DAD!”
“Shut up…” Áine said back, shifting her hand from Eira’s eyes to cover her mouth instead. She looked to the far-off corner of the crawlspace, where another small hatch would open to the outside of the house. Their escape should this not go well. Tears were coating the corner of her eyes, tricking down her cheeks. She didn’t look back out through the hole, knowing what she’d see and not wanting to face it just yet. Their mum would be heartbroken by this.
She wasn’t sure how long they sat like that in the dusty dark, Áine basically cradling her younger sister while they both cried. Suddenly there was a sound above, someone banging on the door. But that was it. Their mum, wherever she was hiding, wasn’t making a single sound. Soon same the sound of metal against wood, whoever was outside chopping their way through the door. Eira screamed into Áine’s hand, muffled but loud none the less. “Shhh, don’t make a sound. Please be quiet.”
The moment he had entered the house he would look around it. It was a simple house, nothing much to it. Just one out of the probably two hundred that made up the village. He made his way into the kitchen, pulling the doors off the cabinet space cleanly as he looked through. He found a loaf of bread and just brought it to his mouth, taking a big chunk of it. Battle made him hungry. He didn’t stop there and kept looking till he growled lowly. “Damn places never have Ale..” he complained. He took another good mouthful of that bread till he placed it back on the counter, his axe still in his other hand.
The sounds of battle were still raging outside, leaving enough sound that he wouldn’t notice the small noises of crying that the two girls would make underneath those floorboards. Yet Lothar was not new to raiding, he knew that whoever lived here had places to hide from him. Not many woman had been seen fleeing the place yet, which meant they were still here. His eyes scanned the floor and the walls, looking for strange ridges or gaps. And he found one he smiled and walked towards it.
He moved a finger over the edge of the flooring before he took his axe and bashed it with a smooth hit. He was met with a slight scream of a woman that had red hair that was decorated with it’s own amount of grey in between. “I knew you were hiding.” He almost chuckled as he grabbed a hold of her arm and roughly pulled her out of there. He looked over her body and ended up at her face. It was that look that he was used to, one of pure panic. Her skin was pale, her lip shaking and her eyes dull and without much light inside them. “Are you scared of me?” He said to her as he brought their faces close. No answer came.. of course not, these people didn’t speak his language. “I would tell you to not be afraid.. but that is both a lie and impossible for you to understand.” He said. He was almost like a cat toying with it’s pray. He brought the axe close to her throat and he heard her squeal,
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words running from her mouth that could only be one thing.. the common begging for her life. “You are not pretty enough to be my price woman. Let me save you from a life of struggling without your husband, a life of always being afraid when we might come back to claim your life any way.” He told her as her sobbing and begs continued. When he had still been home he had often used this fear to learn more about where they hid the others, or where they kept their food. But without them speaking his language, that was no use. So he lifted that axe and slid open her throat, more blood soaking her chest as he let her slump down to the ground.
@ShadowCat
The moment the girls heard the horrifying pleas and screams of their mother abruptly stop, followed by a hard ‘thud’ on the floor above, they silenced in shock. Silently, stiffly and without breathing, they sat there in the dark, listening for the heavy feet moving around above them. Something warm and wet dripped down on Áine’s face, and she rubbed it off, holding her hand up in the light from the airshaft in morbid curiosity. A hard shudder ran through her, and then Eira began screaming.
“Nooo, no wait!” Áine shrew herself after her sister, trying to grab her ankles and pull her to a stop. But the little bugger was fast and able to move swiftly, aiming for the hatch leading outside. With one hard burst from Eira’s shoulder, the hatch sprang open, and her sister was outside.
Áine followed close by, still attempting to stop the girl from revealing their hiding spot. Too late, obviously, but who thinks clearly when they’re panicked. Eira didn’t make it far before she ran right into the arms of a couple of men, one of them immediately grasped a fistful of her hair to hold her still. Self-preservation kicked in and Áine dived into hiding behind a small shed, hoping that the men hadn’t seen her yet. Eira’s petrified screams pierced the air.
Sadly for Áine she had not gone unnoticed. Even if the other two were occupied with her little sister, the third had seen something move from the corner of his eyes. Leave no soul alive unless you claim it was one of the clans mantra's and because of that the man wasted no time in going after her.
It didn't take long to find her and before she even knew what happened a strong big hand closed around her arm and pulled her out roughly, not caring if she tripped. "Found another." They called out to the other two who still held the sister roughly by the hair. One of them looking between them and smiled. "Looks like sisters.." he chuckled. These men were cruel, they lived off these raids, lived for the fighter, the blood and the woman that came out of it. They were sadists as that was the way they survived. "We have no use for the small one. She is weak, likely underfed." The guy who held Áine. "This one though.." he said as he brought his face against her neck and smelled her. The others chuckled along with him. The older redhead was beautiful, a fine body and young. "Why don't we start with showing her what happens to those who don't listen?" One of them suggested and the laughs only rang in the air more, ignoring any begs, cries or screams that came from either of them.
Suddemly Áine was forced into her knees, her hands behind her back with by one single meaty hand, the other under her chin, forcing her to face her smaller sister. "If they can't understand.. then we will show." He said in her ear even if he knew she didn't speak his tongue.
And just like that they would make her watch as her younger sister was killed right before her eyes with a dagger that ripped apart the skin of her stomach, letting her guts spill to the floor.
@ShadowCat
Áine struggled and fought the hands as they pulled her out from behind the shed, kicking and screaming just as bad as her sister. The men spoke above their heads, their language rough and foreign to her. Nothing what Áine had even heard before. But the looks the men passed between the girls didn’t go her unnoticed, and a ball of dread settled in the pit of her stomach. She clawed on his face when he smelled her, only to find herself on her knees shortly after. His stinky breath close to her ear when he forces her to look towards Eira had her shudder in disgust, but then she saw the dagger in one of the other men’s hands and that ball of dread spread out her entire body.
“Eira! Le do thoil, nach mo dheirfiúr!Please, not my sister!” In a horrified moment, her eyes locked with Eira’s, an understanding between them of what was about to happen. Eira’s eyes were big, grey, and reddened with tears, her bottom lip quivering. Áine closed her own eyes, unable to watch as the brutes treated her little sister like an animal for slaughter. But the image of her eyes would forever be burnt in her mind, her screams would haunt her dreams.
Silence… A short second of absolute silence followed. Then the men laughed, spoke, the sound of a lifeless body hitting the grassy ground. Áine opened her eyes enough to see the grass, a panicked and sudden rage filled her. She pushed with all her strength up from the ground. While she was by far a lot smaller than the man holding her, less than half his weight, she was still able to push herself up and back enough for him to lose his balance. His hand on her arms lost its grip and Áine sprang to her feet. She turned and kicked the man in the face with her hide boot, not doing much damage other than make him angry.
As soon as she managed to get out of the grasp of the guy that had taken a hold of her, he already had his hair in her hair instead. He yanked her back roughly, but not fast enough for her boot to hit her face. “You little bitch!” He shouted at her before he wrestled her to the ground. He pushed her face into the dirt and placed his knee into her back roughly. “Here I was thinking of being nice to you…” He growled at her.
It was that moment that Lothar had decided that he was done looting the house. It had not resulted in much. He knew that two little mice had escaped from the basement, but he also knew that his men would get them before he could even get outside that house. He walked out with a sack full of stuff as he ate the last bit of bread, munching it between his teeth. He walked right into the display of the woman on the ground and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. As much as he could see of her she had firey red hair, a small body and she was young. So why was she being held on the ground by a knee in her back instead of on her knees with her legs spread wide.
“What she done to you?” He asked, instantly guessing what had happened. “She kicked my face!” He shouted down as her face once more cut pushed into the ground, surely making her bite the dirt. He couldn’t help but laugh at that and as his man shot him a nasty look he suddenly caught the backend of his axe against his jaw. A soft cracking noice could be heard as he stammered backwards. “Go find yourself a woman you can handle! Kicked in the face by her.. what a fucking disgrace!” He yelled at the guy who instantly halted his anger and wiped the blood from his mouth. He left without another word.
At the same time he would grasp the hair of the woman this time and pull her to her feet with little other support. He brought her face close to his, the dirt making her pale skin appear darker. He could see that fire in her, that will to fight and he couldn’t help the grin that appeared on his face. “S
Fuming with rage, grief and despair, Áine kept fighting the man even as he wrestled her to the ground. She flailed while trying to kick him again, spitting dirt and grass between her cursing and yelling. Tears kept streaming from her eyes, mixing with the dirt and the blood on her face. She could barely register that the man spoke with someone, a deep calm voice that wasn’t laughing or shouting. But she didn’t have it in her to care who it was or try to look up. Not that she could look up even if she wanted to.
Her red and curly long hair had fallen all over her head and face, creating a curtain of red to distort her vison. The only thing she was able to make out was the soft ‘crack’ and the man let go, moving off her with haste. “Cabhrú,Help’” she muttered, still crying, spitting dirt and scrambling to her feet. “Mo dheirfiúr...My sister” A yelp of pain interrupted her plea when she was forcefully pulled to her feet by a hand in her hair. She grasped for the hand to try and pull it off, only to find a set of hard knuckles digging into her scalp. Her hair fell away from her face and the curtain was lifted, looking into the green gaze of yet another man. She froze for a second, staring back while he seemed to evaluate her. Then he spoke, and the slow grin that spread on his face had her bones freeze. She had no idea what he said, but she knew it had to be bad. A new wave of panic rose within her. Later she would have no idea where it came from or how she even dared to do such a thing, but Áine gathered the dirt still in her mouth and spit it up into his face.
She stared wild-eyed at him, flinching at every sound and movement around her, expecting to be hit or worse.
He closed his eyes just in time for the spit to his his face. He barely even flinched, just brought his hand up calmly to wipe it off him. It was thick with gravelly dirt, leaving a smear on his face alongside the many streaks of blood that had already decorated it. Without a second to spare he headbutted her hard in her forehead, surely making her words spin while he was barely even phased by it. Yet even as he did that he couldn’’t help but keep that smile. She was fiery.. just like her hair. He liked it.
He dragged her along by that hair. If she were to slip he would simply pull her entire weight by that grip. He looked around and saw that most of his men were now just claiming the woman. There were bodies everywhere, blood soaking the dirt. Livestock was being led into his pens. Cows, sheep and goats all together. They would come back to them later. “Grab the resources you can! We are riding out in five!” He called out and a loud ‘aye’ was echoed through the air.
He dragged the girl back to his horse which was still waiting for him at the place where he left it. He grabbed a length of rope from his saddlebag and tied it roughly around his wrists in a way that she could not escape it, not caring if it might be to tight for her comfort. He the lifted her up from the ground and took off the boots from her feet, tossing them in his bag instead before placing her back on the ground. “Let’s see how quickly you learn.” He grinned at her. It would be quite a walk to the camp and most of it was through rough terrain, she would miss those boots soon enough. The whole time he was mindful of her feistiness, constantly watching her in case she wanted to charge at him again and always keeping a grasp on her hair.
Only then did he let her go, pushing her off him to make her stumble for her balance with her hands tied in front of her. His green eyes would stare his down, his look serious. Waiting for her rebel or obey.
@ShadowCat
Áine had never been manhandled before. Not like this. Not since she was a child and threw temper tantrums, resulting in their dad carrying her off to ground her in her room. As she was pulled through the village mostly by her hair, she catched a glimpse of her fallen father laying halfway face down in a pool of blood. The sight made her cry, a deep hole of pure grief etching into her being. Dad. Mum. And Eira. Gone. Along with most other villagers. All dead. All except… She glanced around and saw the horrifying truth stare back at her. Only women remained. Young ones, or still attractive older ones.
Even the children were… No. She tore her gaze off her surroundings. Several houses were set on fire, the stench of old wood burning stung in her nostrils. There was also the smell of flesh burning. Áine didn’t want to think about that too hard. A splitting headache had begun forming at the front of her head, likely a result of both all the hair pulling and the nasty encounter with his forehead.
She stayed mostly docile while the man tied her wrists, carefully flexing her muscles so that the rope would appear tighter than it truly was. He had a looming presence, towering above her while he worked. She only began objecting when he took her boots, trying to kick him and have him put her down. When he finally did, it wasn’t a graceful landing.
Trying to get back up onto her feet with hands bound, Áine was hissing curses at him and everything else, only somewhat disappointed he didn’t understand them. The unphased look on his face told her he wouldn’t have cared even if he did. He spoke, words rough and in a language entirely foreign to her. The expectant stare, however, was something she recognized. It wasn’t too far off from her father’s when he was waiting for her to do something she’d been told to do many times already.
Áine just settled for glaring back, standing still with her bare feet soaked in the dirt and blood of her own people. She wasn’t a fool and
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knew he must be planning to haul her off somewhere, have his horse pull her by the ropes so even if she fell, she’d still be dragged along. Don’t fall, was the only thought she could keep in her head in that moment. A small anchor to keep her sane. One job. Don’t fall.
The stare off between them went on for a solid two minutes. He was waiting for her to make a move, any move, any small act of defiance that would warrant for him to show her her place once more. The girl probably didn’t know yet in what position she had found herself, but he would make sure to make it clear to her soon enough. She was his, claimed by the leader of the Temoroth. And even if that kept her safe from all the other hundred of men that were rounding up her fellow villagers, or even already in the process of raping them, it did not keep her safe from him. Yet she never moved, just stared back at him with determination and stubbornness in her eyes.
After those two minutes were over he simply scoffed at her and then got up on his horse. “Moving out!” He shouted at as he started to spur his horse on, pulling her along with it. His horse kept a steady pace, making her need to take quick steps is she wanted to keep up. She wasn’t the only person tied down to a horse, but she would soon be the one that was followed by the others as his horse took the lead. There were two others who soon rode up beside him. Two warriors who were just like him covered in blood and scars. One of them had a girl laying unconcious over the back of his horse, her top ripped away from her and her blond hair moving by the steps of the horse. The other had none.
“Not often you claim a woman.” The one to his left muttered who didn’t have one either. “Not often you don’t.” He chimed back straight away. The guy scoffed. “Fair.” The male would look over his shoulder to the girl who was being dragged along by the rope and then to the her bare feet that were surely getting roughed up by the gravelly road they were walking on. He said no more on the subject however, not wanting to anger his leader. Neither did Lothar look back at her, he rode as if she didn’t exist. Not caring if she was struggling or not.
If she choose to fight her position and try and anger his horse it would be no us
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e. His horse was well trained and couldn’t be startled by a sudden slap to the rear. It would be useless.
@ShadowCat
Áine had one advantage her brutish captor didn’t think about; she’d grown up in this village. She knew the roads to and from, the terrain, the ground, and the hills very well. And she used to run them on bare feet when she was younger. Having an agile and lithe body mass helped too, at first keeping up with his horse with little difficulty. What she didn’t account for was the horse’s much longer strides, forcing her to skip a step or two if she didn’t want to stumble or be pulled off balance.
On a flat trail, she dared to look behind her at the long line of horses following. All mounted by a brute, some carrying women in different states of undress of consciousness. Áine is sure she hadn’t been the only one to put up a fight, her people were known to be temperamental after all.
A tug at the ropes was all the reminder she needed that she was about to fall behind, and she quickly turned her attention forwards again. Her captor had company, one of which turned to look back at her. Áine met his curious stare with her own, promising violence if he tried anything funny.
Likely a laughable notion to someone who pillaged villages for a living and looked like he could be twice her weight.
When the man turned back, she had time to study the unconscious girl so carelessly tied to the other horse. Áine knew her. A girl just a few years older than herself. A soft-spoken girl, kind and caring. But still decisive in her beliefs. Áine had no difficulties imagining she’d put up a fight too. A fight that had resulted in her captor growing tired of it all and knocked her out? But not before having a grope. Her grey eyes moved away from the girl, looking at the horse she’s bound to while trying to keep up.
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Meanwhile, she was silently working the ropes around her wrists. Her little flexing had done little to expand them, but it was better than nothing. If she could twist her hands in the loops, she could maybe reach the knot and untie it.
Keeping her attention divided between the strides of the horse and the rope, she had enough to occupy her mind with and found a small respite in that.
He still didn’t mind the girl behind him. He wasn’t going to keep an eye on her the entire time. He was on a horse. Even if she managed to get these ropes off somehow he was faster then she was on that horse and would catch her in no time at all. So instead he focused on his other tasks that he had as the leader of their clan.
“What did they have?” He said in a stoic matter to the other two that were beside him. They were his two right hand men, the ones that were meant to keep him safe and sound. In return they got privelages that many others didn’t. Including their own tents and their own slaves if they wished for it. “Livestock seemed low. Loads of grain and rice, plenty of fields with crops still on. Some weapons. We found a smithery with high quality metals.” They informed him. “Hmm, probably let most of the livestock go. Be sure to send some out to the mountains to see if we can retrieve them. We need all the food we can get.” Lothar spoke out. He knew how this worked and how villages over time had learned to survive after a raid. Those were not their raids though, rarely anyone made it out alive on those. Not enough to keep a village running in the least. “We will return in the morning, gather the rest and bring it back for our own woman and children.” He ordered them. The two once more answered him with ‘aye’ before silence returned between them again.
@ShadowCat
She kept working the knot, finally able to twist it around her wrists so she could reach it. The men ahead were having a conversation, and even though Áine didn’t speak their language she still listened with interest. It was a harsh language, sharp and somehow short. Perhaps they didn’t need as many words.
He feet had begun hurting though, and with the steady pace of the horse she had no time to adjust herself or pluck away roots and forest needles sticking to the underside of her feet. Her grey eyes kept flicking up to the man holding her rope, making sure he wasn’t looking at her. But right at that moment he seemed oblivious to her existence and Áine would have hoped it stayed that way.
Stumbling as one of her feet caught on a root, she hurriedly tried to prevent herself from falling. If she fell, she was done for. At this speed she’d have a very hard time getting back on her feet. It hurt too; her toes sore. She jumped and skipped many steps to catch up, muttering loud complaining curses. With the pain came everything else, a lump forming at the back of her throat. She focused back on the ropes, trying real hard not to think about her family, her village, or anything else. And yet everywhere she looked there were reminders.
The knot came loose and she stifled a sound of relief. All she’d had to do was bide her time until she could get to an area where she’d be able to lose them. Then she’d dart for the hills. For now, she’d walk silently behind them and pretend she was still tied up. Instead of making a break for it yet, she began inching closer to the girl slung across a horse ahead of her, trying gently to wake her up by bumping into her every now and then.
The conversation between him and his men kept going on as Aine was starting to loosen the ropes that she was bound with. He was completely oblivious to what she had done, confident in his own rope skills to not be worried about still. And once again, if she did run he was confident that he could catch her.
It was a long time before he looked back at her for the first time and it was right at the moment that she had walked up to the girl that laid on the back of his right hands horse. He gave her a sharp look and then tugged on that rope to pull her towards him enough for the rope to suddenly pull away from her. His eyes instantly went to hers at the realization waiting to see what she would do as he stopped his horse, ready to turn it after her if she ran.
@ShadowCat
It took her a second too long to realize what happened, her hands suddenly entirely free. She stopped walking at the same time as the man halted his horse, staring down at her hands in confusion. Then her grey eyes moved to the empty knot hanging by the man’s hand. Raising them further, their eyes locked in a breathless moment. Áine couldn’t tell if it was anger or curiosity she saw in that green-eyed look, but she didn’t give herself time to ponder either. A fake, innocent chuckle escaped her and she threw a quick glance up the hillside. Looking back at him to try and read his intent, she finally darted sideways off the trail and began running up the hill.
Her familiarity with the area came to her advantage. Even if her feet hurt, she ducked into the thick underbrush of the uneven ground and moved as quickly as she could up the hill. It would soon be too steep for horses to easily follow, and the forest was dense and hard to see through. The pain in her feet temporarily ignored, Áine ran as fast as she could upwards, her heartbeats heavy in her chest.
They’ll kill me… They’ll kill me… The sheer panic of being followed gave her more energy than she had to spare, adrenaline fuelling her muscles and numbing all pains.
And just like that she was off. Running for the hills. “Stay here! She’s mine!” He ordered his men as he saw some turning already to go after her. But he wasn’t going to let them, this was his fun, his hunt. He stirred on his horse going after her in the line of the woods. At first he gained ground fast, but the moment it started to become to steep his horse was struggling instead, neighing in distress at the route he was trying to make it take.
He wasted no time and jumped off it’s back and left it there as he went after her on foot. She might be quick and she knew the terrain, but he was strong and terrain meant very little when you could simply break your way through te branches. She might have been hard to follow if she was anyone else, but her bright red curls made her stand out like a candle light in the dark. The whole time he was shouting in the air, letting her know just how close or far he was.
They soon reached a part where the forestation became less dense as they came higher on the hill and this was where he easily gained on her. It didn’t take long before he reached her and he launched his body at her. He caught her around her waist and tackled her to the ground, making them roll down the mountain for a bit till they came to a stop. He ended up on top of her, grabbing her wrists into his hand and pinning it above her head before slapping her across the face hard. “Shouldn’t have run.” He said, his eyes holding both amusement and intensity.
@ShadowCat
Áine screamed when the man caught up with her, tackling her from behind like a battering ram. When they rolled down the hill, she fought him with everything she had; fingernails and teeth in equal measure. The back of her head had an unwelcome meeting with a rock as they rolled to a stop, her head immediately snapped sideways from the slap to her cheek.
"Imigh liom!Get off me!" Agile and far smaller than him, she was able to wiggle one hand loose from the grip he had on it. Without hesitation, she returned the favor and slapped him hard across his own cheek. She had half a mind to return the favor from earlier and grab a fistful of his hair or the braided beard hanging off his chin. Áine just wanted to hurt him at that moment.
Still struggling, she moved enough that it caused them both to slide further down the hill. Not rolling this time and his weight pinning her down, her exposed arms and calves scraped against the rough forest ground. She may not have received an actual beating, but at this point she certainly looked the part. Cuts and scrapes all over her exposed skin, a blood smear from her own mother, dirt, leaves and twigs in her hair… Plus the bruises and sore, bloody feet.
As the adrenaline dissipated, she began feeling all these small hurts and wounds. The energy from before rapidly drained from her muscles. Her head thundered by everything it had been through.
@Nakachu
He fought with her as much as she wanted. Each time she thought she gained ground and slipped from his grasp he simply pinned her down again. He got a slap in his own face in the process but it only made im laugh. Slowly but surely he put more weight into her. “Give up girl! You aren’t winning this!” He shouted down at her in almost an entertained manner.
Finally she started to come to a halt underneath him as he once more grabbed those wrists and pinned them down. He watched as her rapid breath made that chest rise and fall as she laid displayed like that. He brushed her red curls away from her face and met her eyes. “Much better.” He chuckled in amusement even if he knew she could not understand him.
He pulled his weight of her just a small bit, enough to grab a hold of her and flip her over into her stomach. That hand that had held her wrists now went to the back of her neck and pinned her roughly to the ground. His knee came across her lower legs to prevent her from kicking him. “My men are waiting for us down the hill.” He spoke before his hand went to the pants that she was wearing and started to pull it down roughly. “So you might be lucky that we don’t have much time.” As he exposed her rear he grabbed into those cheeks roughly, his callused hands rough across the soft skin of her. “But I will teach you your place..” this time his voice didn’t sound as friendly anymore, a certain roughness have taken an edge there.
@ShadowCat
The shifts of his tone between yelling and calm conversation had the hairs on Áine's back stand. His voice was deep, raspy, even melodic despite the roughness of his language. It could have been a voice she would have liked. But all those thoughts disappear from her mind when he flips her around.
Face down into the dirt yet another time in such a short time, a horrible realization runs through her when she feels her skirts lifted. A rough hand kneading the sensitive skin on her bottom cheeks has her try to claw and crawl away from him.
"Níl!No!" She tried pushing herself off the ground, to kick him or make him lose his balance. When all that failed, and the fight left her, desperate and frightened sobs wrecked through her instead.
@Nakachu
He let her fight once more against him, keeping her pinned down while she trashed. Even if her nails caught his skin a few times, he couldn’t care less. He heard her cried and then finally she stopped fighting as much as instead started to sob. “That is right.” He just spoke as that was the moment that he undid his own pants. He was already hard from the anticipation. He loved a good chase and he loved a good fight and she had just given him both. But more then anything he loved to watch someone break down before him, especially one like her that had shown so much fire. It was why he had picked her. Because if she dared to kick one of his men in the face, she sure had some guts about herself. “I own you now girl. You can fight me all you want, but you won’t win.” He warned her even if she had no clue what he was saying.
He grabbed into her hips and raised her roughly off the ground, pulling her on her knees as he neck was still pinned to the ground. He then took his hardened length and brought it to her sex. Even if she fought him he would just wrestle with her until he achieved his goal, thrusting himself deep inside of her. It was a rough thrust, one that probably hurt her, but he didn’t care. “Scream all you want. You ain’t stopping it.” He almost whispered into the air as he started to thrust into her, his hand keeping her hips pinned against him, not allowing her to pull away.
@ShadowCat
Áine's breaths left her with a high pitched cry when the man unceremoniously thrust his member inside her. In a frightening moment it hurt enough that she thought he'd cut into her. The intrusion was new and alien to her, her smaller body not ready for it, ready to take his size like this at all. The pain kept coming, shooting rays through her body.
When her ability to breathe slowly returned, Áine kept crying through it.
She clutched the forest ground with her hands, digging her fingers into it for leverage. Only vaguely aware of people yelling from back down at the trail, her attention was tightly locked on herself and what this barbarian was doing to her. Her ankles still trapped under his knees made it impossible to crawl away. She didn't even bother to try, too exhausted and in too much pain to find the strength for it.
Around them, the air was slowly getting darker as the sun had set during their scuffle.
@Nakachu
He simply let her sob and cry into the ground. He too could hear the cries of him men. They knew what was happening on that hill, knew that he was claiming his price and showing his slave her place. He didn’t care about her well being in that moment. She would learn to obey and the faster she learned the better it was for her. Eventually her body responded at the alien object inside it by coating it with her juices, making it at least a small bit more comfortable for both of them. He kept trusting into her, hitting her fast and deeper as he started to grunt out. Till after a few minute he grunted loudly and released himself deep inside of her, his hand grasping roughly into her hips as he did.
He pulled himself out and just as quick as it had started, it ended again. He put himself back into his own pants and then got off her ankles at the same time that he grabbed her hair again and pulled her into her feet. He brought their faces close. “Now be good. Or I will knock you out the same way as your friend you were trying to safe there.” And with that he started to parade her down the hill, his cum leaking down the inside of her thighs as a stark reminder of what had just happened. As they reached the other men there as a whooping in the air, a cheer of their leader having claimed the female. He just smiled at it as it was their way.
Her wrists were soon bound again and they continued their way, this time he kept a close eye on her. Not going to let her escape twice.
@ShadowCat
The march back was nothing short of humiliating. Áine may not speak their language, but she understood men cheering each other for their… triumphs. How a man could feel like more of a man by taking a smaller woman by force, she’d never understand. He hadn’t even given her time to clean herself and she kept leaking the sticky warm substance between her thighs. There had to be blood in the mixture as well. He hadn’t been gentle or small.
What was worse than the men cheering him was the women from her village looking at her. Some were conscious and walking beside a horse like she had, hands bound and attached to the saddle of a rider. Their curious gazes were filled with pity, shock, and even glee. Áine didn’t want to look at them and turned away, facing her captor as he bound her hands again. She didn’t bother trying to flex her wrists this time. It was unlikely she’d be able to pull that off again anyways.
As the long line began moving again, she stumbled along. The growing darkness around them, in addition to her eyes being swollen from tears, provided a new level of difficulty for her. Unable to see the trail and avoid rocks and branches, she stumbled and kept stepping on painful objects. She was already in pain, but her feet had begun to ache even worse. Multiple times, she stumbled hard enough that she’d fall if she hadn’t caught herself on the side if her captor’s saddle, once even using his leg to steady herself.
22:31
She was still crying somewhat, but in silence this time. Her eyes just wouldn’t stop running. She angrily tried to wipe them away but new followed. The tears would likely cause lovely trails down her dirty face. Not knowing how much longer they had to travel and losing track of time as she busied herself with not falling, Áine almost crashed into the horse in front of her when they’d stopped.
What a ludicrous notion it was, to hope they had reached the camp of their captors. But in that moment, that’s all Áine was hoping for. That or an even larger force here to kill the barbarians. But such a thing was highly unlikely and she therefore hoped for the first alternative.
@Nakachu
The ride was long and hard. The pace never letting her take a single break. His eyes would go to her multiple times, finding the broken girl he had created. She had stopped fighting and for now he was glad at that.
They finally reached the camp that was being sat up. The woman and children still busy setting up tents for their husbands. Campfired being lid with pots above them full of soups and stews. Many of these woman would be sharing their husbands with the slaves that they took. But so was their way so none would complain. The livestock that was taken was led into a large pen and closed off.
Some of the men that were there came forward and slowly ropes were starting to get exchanged. Even the rope that held Aine was being taken by his right hand men who had not taken a woman. "Bring her to the woman. Get her cleaned. I want her back in an hour." He ordered and he followed, leading her the other way.
She was dragged to one of the tents and forced inside along with several others. "This one is Lothar's." The male spoke and the woman quickle nodded. Her grasp was more gentle as she took Aine. Not just leading her by her wrists but also laying a hand gently along her back. But even if the woman was gentle, the males waiting at the end of that tent made it clear that escaping would not be an option even now.
She led her down to the back, a basin of water at the side that was steaming in the cool evening light. Nothing but lanterns to light up the space they were at. She motioned to a chair, not bothering to speak as she would not understand. Her face was gentle.
If she did sit she would reach a cloth in the basin and start to wipe down her face, getting the dirt from her face.
@ShadowCat
Whatever Áine had imagined upon seeing their camp, this wasn’t it. This was no ordinary raider camp. It was a bustling village with women and children around, greeting their men as they came ‘home’ with their spoils. From the looks of the unfinished structures and many tents, she understood these people were nomads and didn’t stay in one place for long periods of time.
When her leash swapped hands, a slight panic took her again. Her grey eyes were wide and curious as she was led through the small settlement, taking in all she could. The man leading her pushed her rather forcibly inside a large tent, and Áine stumbled on her painful feet. She saw that the unconscious girl from earlier had woken and was looking at the people around them with wild and petrified gazes. Áine would try to offer some words of comfort, but what could she say?
Instead, she let herself be led off further into the tent and sat down as instructed. Áine kept her eyes on the gentle face of the other woman as she cleaned the dirt off her face, receiving apologetic gazes whenever the cloth rubbed against a bruise or a scratch marring her smooth skin. But Áine knew she needed more of herself cleaned, gesturing to the cloth and her lower body. “Go nighim mé féin?May I wash myself?” she asked in a futile hope that the woman would understand.
Around her, other girls were being cleaned up as well. It was a strange sight, as if they were being prepared to be served up to their captors. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought, realizing it wasn’t at all unlikely that’s exactly what was going to happen.
@Nakachu
The woman did indeed not understand what the girl said and neither would she have let her if she did. She simply kept dipping the cloth in the water and wringing it out to clean more of her face and body. She washed her shoulder and arms. She lifted her tunic to wash even her stomach and back. It was a process that was done. Eventually her skirt was lifted again and she started to wash her legs. As she found the bottoms of her feet so broken apart she would fill a small basin with water and placed it down for her to put her feet into.
The whole time her hands were still bound, not daring to undo the knot without permission from one of the man. Only once it came time to wash her most intimate parts did the woman hand over the cloth.
@ShadowCat
Áine wasn't particularly shy around other women and didn't mind the washing as much as some others did. She and the other village girls used to bathe naked in the river after all, much to the thrilled amusement of the boys and men.
Grateful when the cloth was finally handed to her, her sore feet resting in a small tub of water, Áine tried to be discreet while washing herself. She took her time, wringing the cloth up several times and making sure she was thorough. She wanted no traces of that man left on her body. She hissed a little at the sting, sore even if it had been quickly over with.
"Hurts, huh?" a fellow girl from her village commented, sitting in a stool a little further away from Áine and glancing towards her washing herself. "First time?"
Áine blushed, ducking her head with a small nod.
Meanwhile, the woman that had been washing her had begun tending to her unruly curls, 'tsk-ing' at the knots, twigs, leaves, and dirt stuck in them. Her comb brushes were fast and a little rough, and Áine moaned in pain. Her scalp had been through enough already. Stopping to acknowledge her pain, the woman continued slightly more gently.
@Nakachu
By the end of the washing her skin was cleaned and had even been oiled up in a thin layer of something that smelled like lavender and roses. Her curls had been untangled and were laying around her shoulders once more.
She was soon picked up once more and given to the same male that had brought her there. He didn't pay her as much as a glance as he dragged her along. She was brought to one of the biggest tents in the whole place.
As she was pushed inside she would be met by the view of Lothar. He was in a state on undress. His chest was bare and a mere loincloth was around his waist. The lines of his musculair body gleaming in the candlelight. Just like her he had been washed, no more blood or dirt remaining on his skin. His hair was partially tied back and his beard was clean again.
The tent itself was decorated with many hides and had a bed in the back that seemed soft and almost luxurious. Very different from the common straw filled matrasses.
"I brought her." The male spoke. "Good. Leave her." He spoke back before he walked her way and took the rope. He looked over her as if inspecting cattle. Taking in her skin and hair and eyes. It seemed he approved. He then looked her dead in the eyes. Knowing she could not understand him, but hoping that he could make it clear to her anyway.
"You belong to me." He said, pointing furst at her and then to himself. "You run, I will hunt you down." Pointing at her first then outside before bringing her attention back and motioning to slice his own throat. "Behave." It was an order that came from his tongue. And finally he would untie her sore wrist. Waiting to see what she would do.
@ShadowCat
When Áine spotted who was waiting for her in the large tent, she balked and put her heels on the ground. It took her a few extra seconds to recognize him without the blood and dirt and his hair groomed. Her grey eyes inadvertently flitted across his frame when he walked closer, a hulking mass of muscle that towered above her as soon her came to stand in front of her. Meeting his gaze while he inspected her without the dirt and blood on her own features, Áine almost flinched as if he’d hit her when he spoke to her.
She stood entirely still while he spoke, following the movements of his hands with her eyes. Her- him- her- leave- him- slice throat… It was a pretty clear and non-negotiable message. When he cut the ropes with one final word, her eyes shot up to his face, watching him in return. Slowly, she backed away from him, giving him a wide berth before she began to move around his tent with the movements of a prey caught in a cage.
Gently she rubbed her store wrists, still keeping her eyes on him, his green graze muted by the lamplights in the tent. When he made no move to grab her or manhandle her, she raised her own hand slowly and pointed to herself. “Áine.” Then she pointed to him. “Cad is ainm duit?What is your name?”
@Nakachu
He would watch her almost like a predator. His eyes sharp and focused. His breathing calm as it made his chest go up and down in that soft lamp light. He would only turn when she threatened to leave his sight, but ultimately he stayed in the same place where he had been where he cut the rope. He watched explore, being reminded of a scared animal that was about to be slaughtered. Perhaps that wasn’t that strange after all.
His eyes would meet her as se spoke up again. He followed along with her motions more then her words and made out what she wanted from him. Guess giving her his name was the least he could do, even if he did not care much for hers. He had never liked the language that they spoke in these parts of the world. It sounded to soft and gentle to his ears. Yet coming from her round and plump lips it sounded almost like a song, a lullaby sang to a baby.
“Lothar.” He answered her as he pointed to himself. Just in that moment another woman would enter the tent. Her eye would pointed to the ground, her body skinny and fair, her body language speaking of fear even if she did not speak a word. She handed over a bowl of stew and was quickly dismissed again. As she turned a burn mark would be visible on the back of her shoulder blade in the shape of a moon and high pine trees.
He came back in and picked up another smaller bowl out from somewhere in the tent and poured part of te stew over. He handed it to her in a rough manner. “Eat.” He commanded her, figuring small words were the best way to communicate with the foreign girl.
@ShadowCat
Her eyes watched the petrified girl with empathy, seeing how subdued she was. Áine almost felt like she was glimpsing into the future of all the girls they had taken from her village. The girls the men didn’t tire of and simply killed. Perhaps the burn mark was how they separated the keepers from the rest. She couldn’t know.
She moved to the far back of the corner of the tent not to be near the woman -or him-, her eyes still taking in everything in the tent and mapping it in her mind. “L… Lot-har,” she muttered, attempting to say his name. At least it wasn’t entirely impossible to say. Not entirely ugly.
When the man moved closer with a smaller bowl outstretched towards her, Áine reigned in her flight instinct and took it from him with hesitation.
Humouring him, for now, she looked up at his face. He’d said a short word. “Eat?” Then her gaze fell to the bowl in her hands. The stew smelled of meat, a thick broth, and fresh vegetables. Her stomach was undeniably empty and growling for food. But the images of her dead sister and father were still fresh and sharp on her mind, and Áine wasn’t sure she deserved any better what they’d gotten. If she deserved to eat when they weren’t even breathing anymore.
Looking for a place to sit but unsure of where, she moved away from him and simply sat down on one of the many hides littering the floor of the tent.
@Nakachu
“Eat.” He confirmed as he brought his own bowl to his mouth and took a mouth full of his own. As if to show he what the word meant. He would keep his eyes on her as she seemed to try and settle down on a spot in the tent. His gaze always holding that same intensity. He seemed willing to let her be for now as long as she was willing to listen and wasn’t going to run. There were others in that camp who were not so lucky. Even now they would be raped, beaten or denied the food that she had been offered. Even if he was a brute man and the ways that he grew up with were even more so. He didn’t seem to live of the girls pain like the men had done who had killed her sister.
He gave her a few moments to decide to follow his demand before he moved to her again. He grabbed her hand before she could crawl into her feet and flee and pulled her closer. He brought that bowl to her face once more, pressing it almost completely to her lips. “I said.. Eat.” He repeated himself knowing that she had figured out the word he had spoken. Given her one more chance to comply.
@ShadowCat
Áine flinched when the man suddenly moved to crouch by her, his large hand grasping for her wrist to guide the bowl to her face. Holding his gaze, she tipped the bowl enough to take a mouthful of the food. It was just as good as it smelled. Once he let go of her arm, clearly confident she was going to do as she’d been told, Áine silently ate the food he’d offered.
Deep in the pit of her stomach, the anxiety and anger still lurked. Anxiety for herself and her fellow female villagers. Anger for her family and the rest of her people. But she’s no fool and knows she wouldn’t make it far through this settlement of she tried to run. His tent seemed to have been at the center of it, surrounded by more of those barbarians.
She tried and somewhat succeeded at not listen for what was going on outside this tent. She’s sure not all women taken from her village had been given something to eat, or a wash, or even the comforts of a roof over their heads. She wasn’t sure if she felt lucky or undeserving again, and the bowl slowly lowered from her lips. She had at least eaten most of it and she held it in her lap, unsure of what to do with the leftovers. Big grey eyes reddened by tears appeared in her memories, making her chest hurt by a pain no amount of consolation could suppress.
Looking around the tent and finding Lothar’s figure with her eyes, she pauses her thoughts and returns to watching his movements. What consolation?@Nakachu
Once she did start to eat he would leave her alone once more, but he sat down nearby. His green eyes always seemed to stare into her soul, always watching her as if he could read the very thoughts that were going on in her mind. He always found those first days of a new slave to be interesting. To see how they broke, recovered and broke again. How they went from fierce and fighting, to terrified and obeying. Yet a part of him knew that the terrified part was not exactly what he longed for in them. Eventually that part made them do stupid things, things that would get them killed. He needed someone who would obey and not question. Perhaps that was the reason Lothar had never taken a wife.
He finished his own stew in big meaty gulps, his lips smacking as he ate, not caring for manners. He finished it soon enough and tossed the wooden bowl to the side. He lifted a flask to his mouth and drank deep from the liquid inside. He didn’t offer it to her. He watched as she finished her own food and placed the bowl with a small bit left into the ground. He didn’t approve that she had not finished, but for now he would leave it for what it was. He had other needs for her.
Without much of a warning he would unwrap the loincloth from his waist and let it drop to the floor as he walked back towards her. Even at rest his member had a impressive size, set in between a bush of dark thick hairs. It stayed from side to side as he walked towards her and once more grabbed a hold of one of her sore wrists. His hands came to the tunic that she wore and started to move it upwards without even seeming to consider how she felt about it. If she struggled against him he would speak to her sternly. “No.” He warned her, again choosing simple short words.
@ShadowCat
She saw his approach, the heavy weight of his member swaying between his thighs by each long stride in her direction. She would have admired his chiseled physique if it wasn’t for the fact she knew he was going to hurt her again. Paling at the sight, Áine quickly scrambled to her feet and made to dash away. But she was too slow and he managed to catch her wrist in his hand again. The grip was tight and hurtful, offering no options.
“Níl! Le do thoil!No! Please!” A rabbit caught in a snare, she tried to bounce herself off him, pulling at her own wrist until it hurt too much and she couldn’t. The word he spoke held no meaning to her. Just a word spoken in a context she knew she didn’t want to be in.
Still exhausted from the long walk after a traumatizing day, however, her struggles were much weaker this time than before. Her bare feet still hurt even if they were clean, muscles sore and bruised, cuts and scrapes stinging with pain. Grabbing her firmly and almost shaking her, he repeated that word from before. No. His voice had a rough edge to it, his face stern as he stared her down. Áine stared back up at him with wide eyes, her breaths fast and filled with all the anxiety she was feeling.
@Nakachu
Every single time she struggled against him he would repeat that word. “No.” As if at some point it would become clear to her what it meant. The more she struggled, the more he held on to that wrist. Her top came off first and soon after her skirt would follow until she was as naked as he was. He dragged her along to the bed at the far end that was slightly of the ground and loaded with soft sheep furs and thick pillows.
He wrestled her down into his back as he forced his way between her legs even if he didn’t enter her yet. Already his member was growing harder by the anticipation as he kept her down there. Her body was beautiful to him, even with all the scrapes and bruises. She was youthful, covered in small freckles and even her sex held that same color of fiery red that had made him want to claim her in the first place.
He forced her legs further apart, opening her up to him completely as one hand worked on keeping her hands away from him. The other went down her stomach and found it’s way to her sex as he rubbed over it. Already he could see tears streaming down her face and he would try and brush them away. “No.” He repeated once more, not wanting to see her cry. It then send back once more to find that spot between her legs and feeling over it as his length was now standing from his hips, looming over her in an almost intimidating manner.
@ShadowCat
Her struggling weakened and rapidly dwindling out of sheer exhaustion, Áine didn’t even know what to do when he wrestled her onto her back in his furred bed. Each time he repeated that word ’No,’ he simply held her and waited for her to stop. It slowly began dawning on her it was a word he used to have someone stop what they were doing. She didn’t ponder on it too much, preoccupied with trying to prevent him from touching her.
This was different than in the forest. He hadn’t touched her then other than to hold her down while he took her by force. This… was far more intrusive. A hand with calloused and rough fingers touching her silky folds, spreading them for him to explore. The dim lights in the tent didn’t offer enough shadows to hide the sight of his growing member. She didn’t want to look at it, shocked at the very idea he’d been inside her once already. With the pain fresh in mind, she began crying.
It surprised her then that the man tried to wipe the tears away. Perhaps he saw it as a weakness or some kind of insult, but what could he expect.
Her breaths still fast and panicked, she stilled a little to try and gather more strength. At this rate she was just spending precious energy uselessly. Looking to the side and away from his naked form, arms held in his grip above her head, Áine took a few more and deeper breaths to calm herself.
@Nakachu
His green eyes never left the sight of his body in that dim lighting that flickered over her frame. It made her skin appear orange, watching the color of the fiery hair that was fanned out around her. He could hear her panicked breath and the softest of sobs still remaining in those breaths. But he also saw how she started to collect herself, how she forced the breasts into her body to calm herself, raising her chest into the air. It made her gleam even more into the light, her nipples shining in such an inviting way.
And just as she had seemed to have calmed herself down he could invade her all over again, pushing a finger inside of her that was big enough to already made her feel full. He was not forceful, just letting it slide in. He found some wetness to guide him, though it was more the wetness that was naturally there then any indication that she would be excited to be taken by him. He didn’t expect her too. He just watched her reaction, looking for any change in her features that would indicate even the the slightest bit of change.
@ShadowCat
Áine’s breaths almost came to a stop as Lothar pushed a thick finger inside her. It was far less invading and painful than his member, but still enough to make her stiffen underneath him. Turning her head slightly to look at him, practically sensing his intense evaluation of her reactions, she gave him a defiant glare. A glare that was as effective as a dog without teeth.
“Níl,” she complained as her lungs found their capacity for breathing again. It wasn’t as panicked as before, coming from her lips in a breathy exhale. She was still too exhausted to fight him, not wanting to spend herself entirely only for him to have it his way anyways. The only thing she could do was try to close her knees and move a little away. She had no delusions that he’d take her no or refusal for an acceptable answer, but Áine would still try.
@Nakachu
He seemed to be slowly figuring out that they were teaching each other the same word in their own respective languages. She was telling him no and stop in her own to make him get off her, while he was doing the same to make her stop struggling. Even now as she tried to close her knees, he would simply force them back open. “No.” He repeated to her again as well in a calm manner.
That finger inside her would move in and out of her, exploring the insides of her as he still watched her face. She was defiant and if anything that stubborn glare of her was turning him on even more, wanting to take her more. Once he was sure that her natural wetness had started to coat her a bit, he added another finger in, stretching her out for him to fit into her more easily later. “Relax girl. Make this easy for yourself.” He spoke even if he knew she would not understand at all. Again those fingers would start to move as he kept her legs open, no matter how much she struggled.
@ShadowCat
The additional finger added inside her had Áine flex underneath him, rejection and defiance causing her muscles to tense up. It allowed for a very fine layer of small muscles to be shown through the skin on her otherwise soft abdomen, plus he would very likely feel it around his fingers as well. He kept saying that word No to her every time she stirred or tried to struggle, but that was also all he did. Unphased by her struggles he only calmly corrected her limbs back into the position he wanted them in.
His fingers moving within her had her body add moisture to them, despite Áine’s unwillingness to have them inside her. The sensation was odd, feeling them bend and stroke along her inner walls each time he pulled them out of her. She hadn’t thought there would be much to explore down there, possessing a good understanding of procreation and the simplicity of it. Pleasure, on the other hand, was something she’d found in stolen moments in the privacy under her own bedfurs when everyone else was asleep.
The soreness from his earlier abuse slowly easing away as she grew more wet and accommodating, there was another sensation that began adding to the mixture. A slow-building warm tension. Her eyes widened a little and she stared up at him, renewed struggles threatening to break free.
@Nakachu
His eyes sort of narrowed as he felt that change around his fingers. She was starting to grow more slick, his fingers moving more easily in and out of her. He spread it around his, coating her lips in it as well to make her slippery. Her body was responding even if perhaps her mind did not want it. Even on her face slowly something was changing. As if the entense anger was seeping away and the hardest edges of it were starting to fall.
He started to move into her faster, exploring deeper, hooking those two fingers to really put pressure inside of her. He knew how to pleasure a woman. And he had learned long ago that a willing woman felt better to fuck then one that was dry as she had been in the woods. Besides, you could do more with a willing woman too.
Slowly he was starting to lean into her, putting her legs up more and bending them towards her face to angle her hips more. He still held those grey eyes, wanting to see the changes in her as her sex kept accepting more and more of him.
Yet his goal wasn't to get her off and soon enough he pulled those fingers away from her. He spread her wetness around his length before he pressed his tip at her entrance and then pushed into her. Her sex accepting him much more easily then it had in the woods.
@ShadowCat
Even if she hadn’t understood what was happening, there was still that irritation of being robbed of something when he abruptly pulled away from her. For a few moments, she had thought that just maybe her pain wasn’t what he sought. Áine almost growled when she felt his member press into her instead, only then realizing that he had taken advantage of her confusion to manipulate her legs up further.
Her cry as he pushed his member deep inside her wasn’t as sharp with pain this time. But it was still there, still loud, and still angered. She immediately flexed and tried to straighten herself, bucking underneath him to try and throw him off her. Unable to hold his gaze, her head tossed back and she shut her eyes. What added to her rage was how much easier it was for him to force himself inside her this time. Even if it was still painful, her natural lubrication offered little resistance. Whatever calmness she’d found with her breaths before instantly disappeared and were replaced with furious curses and frantic pants instead.
@Nakachu
And just like that she was suddenly all fight again. As he pressed himself inside he could feel her tense up, could hear that cry fill the room. He brought his hand over her mouth to drown her out as he startes to move into her. He went slow at first, but as her lubrication coated him he would start to go fast.
As the loudest of her cried stopped he would take that hand back to push her hips down into the furs, holding her steady even as she tried to trash about. "No!" He yelled at her between heated grunts as he tried to make it clear that she needed to still her cries and stop her fighting. Yet at no point did still the thrusting of his hips, hitting deep inside of her. His eyes still watching her face as he did.
@ShadowCat
Her fury only grew when he tried to silence her with his hand. The insistence of his thrusts told her this was exactly what she had wanted to try and prevent: fighting herself to exhaustion while he took her anyways. When he yelled no at her again, the reverberating deepness of his voice almost shook Áine to her bones. She stilled, aware that he could hurt her far worse than this if he wanted to.
He wasn't stopping or slowing down to let her accommodate his size, pinning her down to take it no matter what. The deep and hard thrust almost bounced her upwards on his bed, but he was sure to hold her in place. Still unable to keep entirely silent even though she tried, each thrust into her had her groan in muffled desperation.
The smaller size of her body was slowly growing accustomed to the invasion, stretching despite her inner muscles tensing to avoid it. As the pain numbed by each new onslaught, so did her thrashing to fight him. Her grey eyes moved back to look up at his face, meeting that darkened green gaze with a dulled fire that refused to surrender.
@Nakachu
As he finally seemed to stop he struggling amd trashing underneath him he couldn'r help but feel slightly pleased. Her body was starting to accept him more and more, the found of his hips crashing into her thighs start to fill that tent along with his low animalistic grunts. Surely she was not the only woman from her village who was being taken in such manners, but perhaps she was the one being taken in the most gentle way. At least, if there was such a thing among the barbaric.
As she finally stilled and seemed to accept her fate in those furs he would let go of those hands that were pinned above her head, her wrists still raw and red from the ropes. His hand would join the other one around her hips and start to pull her into him more, making her frame bounce and her chest move up and down for his eyes to enjoy. He even peaked in between them to see how his size dominated her body amd he couldn't help but grin in approval.
@ShadowCat
When the man finally let go of her wrists, Áine guided them down to the pelts next to herself. Her fingers dug into the furs, arms supporting her against the bed. Not that she needed it, he was more than able to hold her in place. But she needed some kind of grounding, some kind of way to support herself no matter how small. An illusion that she was no longer fighting it because chose not to.
She didn't want to look at him, but his towering body covering hers was hard to avoid. Her grey eyes kept watching him, how the muscles in his chest and down his abs flexed and rippled with each thrust. How the muscles in his arms bulged with the firm grip he now had on her hips. He could break her physically if he wanted to, that much was clear by the mere size of him. Yet he bent his strength around her and applied just enough to keep her hips in line with his own..
As his thrusts grew harder into her, her complaints did too. He may have bent his strength, but he wasn't gentle. Áine's sex was getting sore from all the beating it took. Each time he pushed inside he went as far as he could, the tip of him pressing against the innermost barrier of her body. His grin when he looked down between them was cold and barren of empathy.
A new, but silent, stream of tears welled up into her eyes. Was this how he planned to keep her? As a prisoner to fuck and use whenever he wanted however he wanted? Only to later discard her when he'd had his fun and grew tired of her.
She bit her lip, stifling sob. She wouldn't let him.
@Nakachu
For just a bit he got lost in that lust that was raging in his body. Of the feel of the tightness that she had around him. He slid in and out of her in a nice way, yet she felt firm around him. Slowly but surely his mouth would open to let out deep exhales with every thrust, some accompanied by groans that indicated his pleasure. His grip on her hips sometimes getting tighter while other times it loosened.
And that went on for a short while till he looked up to her face and saw those tears streaming down, the way she had grasped into the furs and how white her lip was as she bit down on it. His rhythm slowed and eventually even stopped as he stared down at her. He exhaled, almost in an annoyed manner before he pulled out of her and got off.
He walked to the side of the tent in long strides, his boyd glistening with the smallest layer of sweat in the damp space as he grabbed a cloth and wiped himself down, putting the loincloth around him before he just walked out that tent. Leaving her by herself.
@ShadowCat
Confused at his sudden and hasty retreat, Áine sat up on the furs and backed into the far end of what could resemble a corner. She watched him leave and waited with bated breaths for someone else to come take her away. He had not finished, and he seemed displeased.
While she sat there she grew intensely aware of all the sounds from outside that she'd suppressed. Men laughing. People speaking that strange language. Women… weeping.
She didn't dare move and least of all follow him outside. So instead Áine opted for cradling herself while she sat there. She pulled one of the furs up to cover herself, feeling cold and shaking with a different kind of anxiety. Every sound of footsteps outside the tent had her jump in fear, every ruffle of cloth had her grey eyes darting to the entrance of the tent.
A downside to be left alone was the thoughts that began swirling in her head. Not just thoughts regarding her current situation and what was happening to the other women of her village. But memories. Images of everything that had happened that day. Her muted sobs turned into a heartbroken cry that she silenced into the furs.
Áine would sit like that until Lothar either returned or she succumbed to sleep out of mere exhaustion.
@Nakachu
Lothar didn’t make it back to that tent for a long time. He needed something to vent of his frustration and he found some to do just that. He barked at his men, told them to get things in order quicker. He barked at some woman, telling them to make haste with the fencing for the livestock. He took any opportunity to get that anger out and calm himself down.
What had caused the frustration? The fact that the slave in his bed crying had somehow made him lost the appetite. It was something about her, about that fire suddenly being quenched and her being reduced to the nothingness that he had so often achieved in many others. But it hadn’t suited her. And for that fact he was annoyed.
By the time he went it back into that tent she was curled up into a ball in the far corner of that bed and the sight only made him breath in deep and let that breath out again. He stripped from his loincloth once more and made his way on top of those furs as well, yet he left her alone. Rolling into his side away from her as he found sleep himself.
@ShadowCat
Grey, big and teary eyes looked back at her. Frozen in time, a petrified moment of knowledge where she knows what will happen. An absolute understanding that this will be a painful, slow death. Her bottom lip quivered. Blood. So much blood everywhere. Those grey eyes dulled and turned glassy, but the pained and petrified expression remained. Even in death, there was no solace to be found.
Áine awoke with a startle, her grey eyes wide and staring into the memory of a dream. Laying on her side and facing the tent wall, she didn’t need time to remember where she was or what had happened. Her dreams made sure of that. What she did need some time to register, however, was the slight slope in the bedfurs behind her. The tent was mostly dark, but she heard a soft sound behind her, indicating someone breathing deep and slow.
At first, she didn’t dare to move out of fear he might be awake, scared that perhaps she’d made a sound in her sleep or tossed and turned. But the longer she laid perfectly still and listened to those breaths, the more confident she grew that he was sleeping and had not heard her wake up. Slowly she turned on the bedfurs, her body aching all over with every movement. Eventually facing the sleeping man, she relaxed back onto the furs and watched him, raising herself up on one arm to look at him.
A single lamp standing at a table in the tent cast shadowed lights onto his body. He had not covered himself, and he was sleeping slightly on his back. It surprised her he didn’t snore. Most men she knew did, when they were on their backs. His chiseled chest only rose and expanded slowly with every inhale, sinking again when he exhaled. The features of his face was relaxed and lacking of that stern hardness he had carried before. And yet, despite his face being relaxed, there was still a downward tilt on his eyebrows that gave the impression of a permanent scowl.
03:37
Áine was careful to not make sudden movements while she studied him like this. She made no attempts at leaving the bed either. She’d have to crawl over him if she tried, and he’d surely wake from that.
Instead, she lowered herself back onto the furs and relaxed into them, the fur that she’d used to cover herself with was still tucked protectively around her. Her eyes roamed his figure while she laid there, studying the way his muscles were still prominent through his skin. A slight and healthy tan made it look like it was glowing in the sparse light. His hair looked like it had come partially undone from the tie that had kept it out of his face. The braids in his beard fallen slightly down to the sides.
Something painful lurked in her chest while she watched him sleep. Something that grew into a space of its own next to grief and sadness over the loss of her family. White, hot hatred for him and what he had done slowly ebbed away, giving room for this new pain instead. Áine closed her eyes, unwilling to entertain it or ponder on its nature. She curled back up under the furs and willed sleep to come back to her. The dreams weren’t kind to her, but they kept her grounded to reality and what had happened.
Even if her dreams had been so unkind to her, Lothar’s were non existent. His body had been spend from the raiding and from the ride back afterwards. Perhaps not in the same way as hers was, being beaten and used. But there had still been a tiredness in him that had resulted in a good night sleep. He had not noticed the girl moving, he had not been worried about it. There were always men on watch, even in front of his own tent. If she had attempted to run, she would still have been caught. So he had slept through her peeking at him and had not stirred until the first light started to come through.
Once it did he would stir and his eyes would open as the light shone through the thick crude leather that the tent was made up of. He groaned as he rose himself from that bed and would look over his shoulder to the girl beside him. Her bruising had started to turn more blue and purple, her cuts looking more angry now that a dark crust had formed over it. In ways she would probably feel worse today then she had the day before, but that didn’t mean that she got to rest.
He lifted himself from the furs and grabbed fresh leathers for him to get himself into. He also grabbed some of the female sets that were still in his tent, not caring if they were the right set for her. The leather it was made of was more crude then his, they were clothing for a slave after all. He would toss it right at her, waking her roughly from her slumber. “Get dressed.” He said sternly, pointing at the clothing that was now in front of her.
@ShadowCat
Blinking against the light in the tent, Áine gave the man a tired squint before hiding her face back into the fur blanket covering her, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Her body hurt, everywhere and all at once. Sensing that he was still standing there and waiting, she peeked back up and was met with that angry hardness from the day before.
Áine sighed and took the leathers he’d thrown at her, glancing at the floor where her own clothes had been discarded the day before. But they were gone, and this is what he offered. She winced as she rose and moved to the edge of the bed, pulling the covering fur along with her so she could keep it at hand.
Holding up the leathers to look at them, her eyes moved past them and met his green gaze with a disapproving scoff. They weren’t just rough, but ill-fitted as well, far too big for her. He didn’t move or indicated in any way that he’d offer something else. Áine eventually stood from the bed and let the furs that had covered her fall from her shoulders. Standing before him naked, again, she held up the clothes and gave the man a pointed look with a raised eyebrow. “Tá siad seo ró-mhór.These are too large.”
She hadn’t expected him to understand, or even care that she obviously disapproved. He only raised an eyebrow in return, giving her the exact pointed look right back at her. With an irritated sigh, she pulled the rough leather chest piece on, adjusting at the pieces to try and make them not show her breasts. It was a crude and simple design, basically two pieces of leather kept together by leather straps at the side. One piece covered her front, the other covered her back, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. The skirt wasn’t much better, held closed by the same straps on either side at the top of her hips. She tried to rework the straps so the clothes would fit better, but even when she tightened them until there was no more to tighten, they were still too big.
04:26
Pulling at her hair to try and work out the knots from the night before, she turned her attention back at the waiting man.
@Nakachu
Again that melodic sound came out of her throat, but the words were a mystery to him. All he knew was that i was likely a complaint about the clothing he had offered her. But she wasnn't supposed to like them. She was simply supposed to be covered and protected from the sun without distracting his men. And they were achieving that with it, so he didn't care.
"Come." He spoke and motioned for her to follow. If she didn't he would just grab into her wrist and start to drag her along. She was brought to the edge of the camp, many other woman from her village were gathered there. Most looking worse then her, extreme bruises or breaks on them or the light in their eyes having already faded. He pushed her to the others. "Put her to work with the rest." He commanded the women there as well as his right hand man that was there. "Already done with her?" He chuckled. Lothar shot him a look of pure hatred as he quickly got to both his feet, ready to take a fight if he had to. "Did I say I was done with her? I believe not. I said to put her to work!" Lothar barked at the guy. "She is still mine." He added to it and then turned his back and walked off.
One of the woman would quickly come forward and usher Anja along. She would be put to work at skinning a few carcasses of recently slaughtered lifestock along with some other women she knew.
@ShadowCat
While she didn’t understand the word, she certainly understood the hand gesture when he told her to follow. Áine stepped outside the tent on careful feet that were still torn and hurting from the day before. Each step felt like walking on glass, and she hobbled to keep her balance while following Lothar through the settlement. His strides were long and determined, not waiting for her to catch up but also keeping her within his sight so she couldn’t fall behind too much.
Once they reached the far end where butchery was clearly taking place, she found herself forcibly pushed into a group of women from her village. They caught her, preventing her from falling into the bloody muck that covered the ground. Grasping the hand of a girl her own age that she used to be close friends with, Áine turned to watch the exchange between Lothar and the man overseeing the women. It was a tense few seconds where Lothar looked like he’d rip the man’s head off, before he stormed back through the settlement and disappeared from sight.
The man who’d supervised the women came over and pushed a dull knife into her hand, before pointed at the animals and said a few words in his own, harsh language. Then he shoved her off to go with the women.
Áine looked down at the knife. Small, but dull and impractical in almost every way. She’d already seen the partially skinned and still intact animals hanging head down from the lower branches of the trees, and knew she was to assist in skinning them. The woman who’s hand she was still grasping led her over to an animal she had been working on. A small cow. Àine took one look at the rather sloppy handiwork and then at the knife in her hand. “They expect us to skin the livestock with this?”
07:13
“Yes,” the woman replied, returning to her task without looking at Áine. She had a sullen and lifeless tone in her voice. Her skin was covered in bruises, cuts, red angry marks from large hands. One of her eyes were horribly swollen and Áine could only assume she’d taken a fist to her face.
“Cait…?” she asked, stepping closer to the woman. Cait immediately flinched and her eyes darted to the man watching over them. Fear evident in her expression.
“Hush. We’re not supposed to talk,” was her only whispered reply.
Áine also glanced over at the man, seeing he’d sat himself back down on the stump of a tree and was watching the women. He had a weapon resting over his thighs that he leaned his elbows casually on. Their gazes met, and he inclined his head towards the animals with a slight frown. Withdrawing her eyes, she sighed and assisted Cait in skinning the small cow.
She’s always hated slaughter, but that didn’t mean she was terrible at it. Knowing her blades, even dull ones, she used her knife as well as the dull edge allowed. Once one animal had been skinned, they moved on to another. They were careful not to damage the hides, as one girl got dragged to the side and received a severe beating for doing so earlier. It set the example for the rest of them. The process was tedious work, but the pile of hides grew slowly and steadily throughout the morning hours.
07:13
Áine had always thought that raiders like these didn’t do anything but make their livelihood of the back of others, but whenever she gazed off into the settlement, she saw people hard at work. Not just slaves like her own people, but men and women from the raiding tribe too. Everyone seemed to know their places, their duties, and performed them in mostly silence. There was laughter too, men and women exchanging words in that strange tongue when they passed each other. Further off, she was sure she could hear the bright chiming laugh of children.
By noon when the sun was at its highest, she stepped back from the row of carcasses, seeing that the women had finished their task. Her face was pale and sweat trickled at her hairline. Standing in the bloody mud all morning had her feet sting and throb with an upcoming infection. She clutched the dull knife in her hand hard and turned to look at the man watching over them.
@Nakachu
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A voice suddenly rang from beside her in her own language. The woman was tall and skinny, her hair brown in a braid that fall down to her hips. Her clothing fit her better then Anja's did, fitting to her frame and seeming like it would actually be quite comfortable. "That is how you lose bodyparts around here, or worse." she said as she turned towards Anja. It would reveal that one of her eyes was closed, an ugly vertical scar over her eyelid and sunken in enough to show that what used to be underneath was missing.
The woman seemed to have no more words for her, but did motion for her to follow along. On her back was the same burn mark that she had seen on the woman the night before. An indication that she was not new. She walked up to the male that was still keeping an eye on them. "I am taking her to do washing." she spoke to the male. This time it was said in the language that she did not understand, the language the brutes spoke. "You are taking her nowhere." he spoke to her decidedly as he towered over her intimidatingly. The woman however did not back off. "I need fresh hands to teach. She fits. She is to skinny for the fencing." she spoke. The male grunted at her before he looked Anja's way. "Bring her back before sun down." he spoke as he grabbed her chin roughly and forced her to meet his eyes. "Or else.." he spoke as he spit in her face. Only then did he let her go.
She stayed calm, almost stoic and wiped the spit from her face as she motioned for Anja to follow her again. "Come." She spoke in Anja's native tongue and started to take her down the river. She adjusted her pace slightly for the girl to keep up with her painful feet, but only just. She was not taken a beating for being slow because of her.
@ShadowCat
Following the tall woman’s strides were easier than following Lothar’s. But still she struggled to keep up. “You speak Gaeilge?! From where?” Áine’s voice was high pitched with surprise, concern and empathy at seeing the woman’s physical state. She’d never heard talks of raiders like these men before, but this woman was a living proof this wasn’t the first time they went raiding in her homelands. While true that her village was a sheltered one surrounded by forests, they still had communication and trade with larger villages and settlements.
What no one had thought about, or seen, was that while the woman spoke to the man, Áine had secretly tucked the dull knife into the waistband of her leather skirt. She rolled the skirt to hide it, and with the ill-fitted state of the clothes, no one would bat an eye at it.
@Nakachu
"Keep your voice down!" she instantly scoffed at the girl, her one eye looking around to see if none of the males heard her. She loosen her stride just enough to let her walk beside her so she could talk more quietly. "I am from north of here. A small settlement called Carrick." she spoke then in a more hushed voice, though it carried enough.
She would walk her all the way down to the river. along the way she picked up woven baskets filled with cloth and leather. "Take one." she said to her in as stern as her voice would go in her mother language. Once they gathered those they went down to the river. The river was beautifully clear with rocks along the surface that were smooth from the current. The water would be cool to their feet and there went plenty of larger rocks that they could sit against. As she took her own seat down she would look over her shoulder to see if any of the men had followed them before she started to speak more loudly.
"You have to lose that knife somewhere before they know you got it." she said almost matter of factly as she took the first bit of cloth and dipped it in the water to clean it. "You want to die? Is that it? Because I know much faster ways to do that, and more pleasant once too."
@ShadowCat
Watching the woman for a bit as she began dipping the clothes and rubbing them together to clean them, Áine then did the same with the clothes in her basket. The cold water rushed over her aching feet and she wiggled her toes a little in it, a tiny sigh of relief caressing her lips.
She glanced sideways at the one-eyed lady. “I could kill myself before any of these brutes are able to lay a hand on me. No of course I don’t. The blade isn’t even good for that. It’s dull for a purpose.” Áine understood as much. Giving a mistreated slave a weapon was a horrible idea. Especially if the slave has nothing else they care to live for. Áine may have lost everything, everyone she truly loved. But she wasn’t intent on dying just yet.
“What’s your name?” She had never heard the village name before and figured it was likely as sheltered as her own had been. “Mine’s Áine.”
@Nakachu
“My name is Grainne.” She said as she kept rubbing the fabric together, hoping to get the strains out. There was some soap available in her basket, but she would rather get it out without. Soap was a precious recourse in the clan. Most of the raiders didn’t care to bring them during raids, not seeing the ‘value’ of it.
“So what is your plan then? Surely if it is dull enough that you can’t kill yourself with it, you aren’t planning to stab one of the men with it either.” She said, almost matter of factly. She was brutally honest, not caring to much about being liked or not. She would look over to see her worked. “Rub harder, don’t worry about the fabric. They will just raid for more if it starts to fray, but they won’t accept dirt or blood on it.” She said as she watched her small hands work. “Look.. I am not interested in helping you if you are going to end up at the end of an axe two days from now. The only reason I am helping you at all is because Lothar brought you.” She said, pronouncing his name in a strange way with the accent of Anja’s native tongue.
@ShadowCat
Áine’s face grew stern while the woman spoke, looking intently down at the river and the fabric between her hands while rubbing it hard together. Grainne was indeed brutally honest, but that wasn’t new to Áine. Most of her kind were after all. Her people weren’t known for sophisticated etiquette. If one had something to say, the day was too short and life to precious to not say it.
“I know how to sharpen it,” was all she said in response to the issue about the knife. Her eyes sometimes would trail up from her work, looking around the riverbend for appropriate places to hide it. One of the smooth rocks in the river would do just fine to sharpen the blade.
But then Grainne mentioned the man, and Áine stopped, lowered her hands and looked over to her. Grainne's one eye was beautiful. Her complex unusual for people of their lands. “You know him? Why would you help me because of him?”
@Nakachu
“Sure you do. Sharpen your way to an early grave.” She scoffed. “You chop one of the down maybe, and then what? You think you can run? There are to many of them Aine.” She said as she concentrated on the piece of clothing that she was rubbing clean between her hands.
The Aine asked after Lothar and she looked her way for one of the first times, her one eye focussing on her face. “Everyone knows him. Lothar is their king, their leader. He is the guy behind all this crap.” She said as she motioned to the camp. “Nothing happens without his permission.” She looked at Aine in an intense manner then. “Neither does he often claim a woman.” She said then as he eyes went down Aine’s body and up. “You don’t even know the power you are holding right now. I have been trying to get in his tent ever since I came here, trying to catch his attention.” She said before she turned back to her work, putting her frustration in it. “Be good to him, give him whatever the fuck he wants and you won’t need to be scrubbing with me in this river, hell you won’t even have to go hungry or be scared of a beating by a random guy who just felt like handing out a punch. You are protected from anyone but him.” She explained.
@ShadowCat
Falling silent while she listens to the woman, Áine can’t help but pick up on the bitterness in her voice. A bitterness Áine can understand, seeing how these people treat their prisoners. Perhaps even bitterness for being rejected. Áine hadn’t known Lothar was that important to these people. How could she. She looks Grainne straight back in her eye when their gazes meet, Áine’s just as unflinching as hers.
“It’s not like he stopped to introduce himself. Besides, I didn’t ask for this power you seem to think I have. I didn’t ask for any of this. And I suspect you didn’t either.”
She focuses back on her task. Rubbing the clothes together and occasionally letting them flow with the stream while she held onto just a piece of the fabric, allowing dirt to be washed away. The she held them up for inspection, seeing that they were cleaner but not fully cleaned. Her small hands dump them back into the water. Small hands slightly calloused already from working the forge and smithy with her father. Hands that can tolerate high temperatures without burning. Hands that do not do well in cold.
“So what happened?” she then asks without looking up from the washing. “How did you lose your eye?”
“Of course nobody asked for this.” She almost scoffer, rolling her one eye. “But we are here and we might as well make the best of it. They are brutes, but they are not uncivilized. They just have their own ways, their own ranking and Lothar is at the very top of it.” She said. “So you keep him happy and you might actually have a decent life here.” She wrung out a piece of clothing and then started with the next, really putting her back into it.
“I lost it doing what you are about to do.” She said as if she was saying the most normal thing in the world. “I tried to get away. I had it all planned out. I got one of the guys to take me that lived on the very edge of the settlement. One of the lower ranking ones… the ones you need to watch for. He beat me bloody before he raped me. But once he was passed out I snuck out of his tent. I had almost made it to before they caught me. Taking my eye was my punishment and I can truly tell you I have never experienced such an intense pain in my life..” she paused for one moment as she seemed to recall the event, quickly shaking her head. “I was dumb and naive. Now my goal is just to survive, to make my life as good as possible within the camp. Maybe one day.. one day a bigger force then them sweeps them away and we can be set free.”
@ShadowCat
Keeping her focus on her work, Áine’s eyes still darted sideways at Grainne every now and then while she told her story. It surprises her the brutes hadn’t taken out her knees instead. One didn’t need feet to be a warm hole for lusty men. But then again, she’d be useless for most other things. Keeping her morbid thoughts to herself, she wrings out the clothing she’s washing and takes a new one.
“Why would you help me, after learning it was Lothar who brought me here? You looking for some of that power to dribble onto you, is that it? You failed to seduce him yourself so now you’re going to teach me to do it instead?” Her voice was soft while she spoke, all sarcastic intent hidden well.
Why would she want to please a man who could just take by force what he wanted anyways? He had not once heeded her rejection, cared about her well-being, cared to try and make his abuse tolerable. And she was supposed to do her best to please him?! Áine furiously rubbed the new piece of clothing between her hands, her eyes hardening with a defiant fire burning deep within them. No. That word he’d repeated the night before came to mind. That word he used when he wanted her to stop fighting him, to stop crying. No…
He'd have to do better than that to earn her loyalty. A lot better.
@Nakachu
Even if the sarcastic intent was hidden well, Grainne was no dumb girl. She caught on to the anger hidden in that statement. "You going to blame me?" She said, wanting her to give it a honest thought. "We are surviving here Aine. I am not the only one wanting the power that was just thrown into your lap. So yes, I am sitting here, helping you rest your sore feet and making small talk because I do want some of what you have." She said, not even hiding her intentions. "So you can take my help or you can go back to your idea of sharpening that dull knife. Actually, do me a favor and make it Lothar that you go after first. At least them if u succeed and get yourself tortured in the square I will have a new shot at finding myself as the leader's slave." She said and she did not hide her sarcasm.
"You would do well to learn quickly that what you want doesn't have a place anymore. This is abour survival, about getting to the next day as comfortably as possible. Choosing between rape or a fist in your face." She scoffed then. Putting another wrung out piece in her basket. She was clearly wasting her time.
@ShadowCat
She didn’t bat an eye or stop her work while Grainne spoke, but she did bite her lip and refused to look at the woman. Broken… was a word that came to mind. Accepting her situation and fully broken. Áine saw it now, and her heart swelled with rage and pity at once. Something told her that Grainne had not been easily broken. Or perhaps she’d bent right away in order to survive. Whatever it was, this woman’s perception of the world had shifted into a narrow one, where all that mattered was to live to the next day with as little suffering as possible. She didn’t live anymore. No joy, no pleasure… no life.
“And what kind of help would you give, Grainne? Aside from helping me rest my sore feet in the river?”
The thought of using that knife on herself became increasingly tempting the longer she sat there and was lectured by a fellow slave into submission. But that defiant fire wouldn’t quench so soon.
@Nakachu
Aine was not wrong in her observation about Grainne. She had lost the joys in life. She had lost it the moment they had brutally cut out her eye and left her to bleed out on her own or barely survive. She had learned that day what it was like to be a slave, what it was like to be owned for nothing more but your body. She was reduced to nothing. Even if that fire was still in her, it was now only used for interactions like these, the times that she felt she had something to gain.
“Well.. For one I can help you with the language.” She said with a shrug of her shoulders. “Took me a while to learn, but once you get the hang of it, it is an easy language.” Another piece of clothing landed in that basket. “I can also get you something for those feet. Some kind of shoe wear.” She held up her own feet from the river which seemed to have some make-shift footwear from pieces of leather. “And I can try and get you to do the easy jobs with me. Like washing in the river. I promise you that this is one of the more favorable jobs.”
@ShadowCat
Áine wrung out the piece of clothing and put it away with the rest of the clean clothes. She took a new one from the basket, but didn't dunk it in the river right away. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, her one hand gently moved to her waistband where the knife was rolled up, slowly unrolling it.
Hiding the blade in her palm, she dug it in between the larger rocks they were sitting on. Deep enough that one would have to know where it was to find it.
Grainne would be able to see it, and Áine knows it's a leap of faith. Grainne's broken mind and bitterness could make her do just about anything if she thought it would put her in the good graces of their captors. Even ratting out her fellow slaves.
"So what did you do to get these easier jobs? Who's favor have you won over?"
@Nakachu
She saw her hiding that knife and instantly reached over and grabbed it out of there before putting it back in her skirt. "Ooh no you don't! I am not going down for this and they know I work here most. You find some other space." She hissed at Aine, not accepting blame for the new girls wish for death. "If you want to die thats's fine. Leave me out of it." She said, obviously getting more pissed with her.
She didn't even answer her for a while as she asked the question. Only after a minute or so did she answer. "Remember the guy at the pens that I talked too? That is Tustrunt, Lothar's right hand man. Where Lothar goes, he goes. I managed to get his favor. And like you saw at the pen it gives me certain benefits." She explained. She finally had found a stain that needed the soap and would reach for it. She put it to her nose for a second and took a whif of the scent. It was delicious and she loved it. "You don't realize this yet but these guys are dumb in their own ways. If you look around at their wives, none of them have bruises. If you pay attention you can even see some beating up their guy and shouting for being rude. Despite what they do to the slave girls, they actually respect their wives. They have the power."
@ShadowCat
Rolling the knife back up with a shrug, Áine took a moment to observe Grainne while she smelled the soap. An almost gentle expression had fallen over her face, perhaps from a memory of better days. It was a surreal notion that she thought that man had treated her with favor. But perhaps… the concept of favor had shifted too.
"You know… I overheard my father speak with a drifting traveler once. He stayed at the village for a few days. I fixed his weapons while he and my dad were having a talk and rest. He brought news from around the lands, told stories. I don't fancy myself interested in politics or warfare, but still I listened."
She began rubbing and washing the clothes while she spoke, every so often glancing over at Grainne's tall form next to her. "One of the news he brought was about a large city by the coast. Apparently they trade with seafaring raiders. It's like a treaty. They trade in the raiders' favor instead of getting attacked. It had given the raiders so much power, they could point at anything they saw as desirable and have it. Fear… allows for the extreme to become the new normal."
Grainne and all other slaves here had accepted this extreme as their new normal. Even when they could just look past the men and see their wives. Even when they had a comparable normal right there in front of their eyes. Áine shook her head. She didn't know why that memory suddenly had come to the forefront of her mind, and thinking about her father had her throat thicken.
Bowing her head and focusing on her task, she blinks the stinging out of her eyes. "Are you hoping to become a wife?"
@Nakachu
During this whole time that Anja was getting used to the camp, Lothar was out doing his own thing. When he had left her the next thing he did was gather his men and ride back out to the town that they had rampaged through the day before. This time they brought empty saddlebags and some carts behing the horses to put things into.
All the houses that had not been burned down would be searched through. Any of the villagers that had been left for dead and made it through the night anyway were killed out of mercy, and because they didn’t want to listen to the moans of them. He send another group out to collect livestock from the mountains. When everyone seemed to have their own task, Lothar also went into houses.
He went back in the house where he had killed the woman the day before. He knew that Anja had come from here and something made him go back. The body of the woman was already stiff and white. He kicked her over to her back and he could see the resemblance. “Her mother..” he mumbled softly to himself. He went through the house and found the space underneath the house where Anja and her sister had hidden. There were no supplies there either. In fact, there was not much in the house at all that was worth looting. Her did find one thing however that he did take. An amulet that hung from the neck of the mother. It was not made from any precious metals, but he took it anyway and put it in his pocket.
The rest of their trip was not interesting to Lothar. They found a smithery that was filled with weapons and precious metals that they took as much as they could carry. They found a bakery with bags of flour that were also loaded up along with the half stale breads from the day before.
Once they were ready to ride back they were loaded, having raided enough materials to get them through the next couple of weeks with his clan. It was not their most bountiful raid. But it wasn’t the worsed either.
“At least it was not a waste of time.. and their woman.” One of his
07:36
men spoke. It was his other right hand, a male named Amastan. The man he had once fought for the leadership and won. He remained his right hand out of respect. “If you say so.” Was all Lothar could comment which made Amastan turn his attention to him. “So how was the one you took? I kept watch all night at your tent, yet I heard barely any cries or screams.” Amastan commented. “How I take my woman is none of your concern.” He spoke sternly. Something that only made Amastan scoff. “Don’t go soft.” Was all he said before he spurred on his horse and ran off, which was probably a good call because Lothar could not keep his face out of the angry scowl that came to it. He had raped her in front of the whole clan, his ways should not be in question in that moment.
Grainne did listen to the story that Anja was telling her, but she had nothing to comment on it. She knew making peace with the barbarians was not what would bring her a happy and fulfilled life, but in the very least it would not bring her pain and agony either. It would let her survive, keep the one remaining eye that she still had.
“I am hoping to become anything that will keep me away from pain and torment.” She simply commented. She had finished the last piece of clothing in her basket and wrung it out into the river and back in the basket. She took the soap one more time and rubbed it over her neck, once on each side, before placing it back in the basket.
“If you do not wish for my help, suit yourself. Go work yourself to an early grave, go get yourself killed after you stab Lothar in the chest. If anything.. you would do me a favor. At least then perhaps Tustrund could become the next clan leader.” And with that she grabbed the basket and started to make her way away from her. Once she climbed the bank side she would whisper to one of the males and point her way. Making sure that someone was keeping an eye on her.
@ShadowCat
Áine watched Grainne leave and shrugged. The sloppy retreat told her more than enough, and right now she was just fleeing an uncomfortable situation. Seeing that she ordered a male to keep an eye on her, however, had her glare in their direction. "I don't need a babysitter." She muttered and took a new piece of clothing from the basket, dunking it hard into the river.
With Grainne gone, it looked like she continued cleaning the clothes in her basket. She sat hunched over, both arms into the river and a piece of clothing or two in her hands. She even put her back into the work. But in reality, underneath the surface of the water and hidden by floating cloths, she was sharpening that dull knife on one of the smooth rocks.
It took her a while, and she didn't dare do it all the time. It would look suspicious if she sat all afternoon with just one piece of clothing after all. So she cleaned the clothes, sharpened the knife, cleaned clothes again, and forgot about time. Once the knife's edge had become dangerously sharp, she shifted and discreetly tucked it away again. Áine was careful whenever she looked around, making sure no one could see what she was doing.
Grainne was like most others, fools who only saw a weapon to hurt with. But Áine had other plans. She saw the knife as an opportunity. And she knew damn well she wouldn't get a chance to even attempt killing Lothar with it. Maybe if he slept, but otherwise? No.
The day had slowly begun to darken, sun descending on the horizon. Áine's stomach was screaming for food, her body ached, and her hands were freezing in the river. The only thing she took comfort in was her feet being washed clean of any upcoming infection they might have had. She had finished the clothes in the baskets by the river, and stood from her spot. Unsure of what to do and where to go, she looked around for familiar faces.
@Nakachu
It wouldn’t take her long to find a familiar face, a face that was going straight for her. It was Tustrund, his face showing thunder, but perhaps that was just how he always looked. He waited for her to come out of the river and didn’t even bother to talk to her before he took her arm and started to pull her along. They dropped the clothes off with Grainne who only met with Anja’s eyes for a small moment. The reason he didn’t speak to her was because he knew she would not understand anyway.
She was dragged along the camp. There was loads going on. There were some slaves still working, most of them out on the field, doing jobs that almost used useless. Like shoveling, or working the ground. It wasn’t like the barbarians would be cultivating their own food. There were some that had already been stripped and were once again at the mercy on their captors. There were wives who were making food and actually laughing among themselves. And there were even still children who were running around and playing, seemingly unaffected by the other happenings of the camp.
But ultimately she made it back to that big tent that was in the middle of everything else and she was pushed inside. It was Lothar who looked up inside. “Found her.” Tustrund spoke as he gave her a shove in his direction. “Where was she?” Lothar asked. “Grainne took her to wash clothes.” Lothar didn’t seem pleased with this answer, a bit of a scowl on her face. “The whole day?” He asked and Tustrund nodded. “Grainne was not at the river when I came back.” Lothar commented. “Well, perhaps she finished quicker.” Tustrund simply spoke. “Did I not give you an order that she was to be watched?! And you leave her by herself at the river? Because your goddamn slave finished quicker?!” He yelled at the right hand. “You are supposed to keep the slaves in check, do better!” He barked. Tustrunds eyes went into an angry scowl then too, but instead of talking back e just turned his back and stormed of in anger.
Only then
02:47
did his eyes go back to Anja. “Sit.” He said to her, anger still clear in his voice as he pointed to one of the stools. Even now it was clear that her feet had been soaking as well as her hand. The skin still subtle and wet. He would have yelled at her, but he knew it would be of no use to do so. If she did sit he would just stare at her from the other side of the room. She was his to use, his to take. Yet after the crying she had done the night before he was hesitant about just throwing her in his bed once more.
So instead her would reach for his pocket and hold up the pendant from her mother before her, but if she were to grab it he would pull it back instead.
@ShadowCat
Áine watched the heated interaction between Lothar and his man with fearful eyes. Not able to understand a single word, she understood enough to see that Lothar was very displeased. Had she done something wrong? She backed away from them with slow movements and kept her distance.
Once Tustrund stormed off and she found herself alone with her captor, the fear in her grey eyes calmed somewhat. He still looked angry though, which made her spine prickle with unease and her hands shake slightly. She sat at his instruction, understanding the point but not the word. Tucking her freezing hands into her lap, she wrung them into each other to hide her shaking.
Then she spotted what was in his hand, and her face paled even more. "Muince mo mháthar!My mother's necklace!" She shot to her feet and moved to take it, stopping in her tracks when he pulled it away again. Her eyes trailed to meet his gaze, questions in her own. Was it a sick joke? She hadn't seen her mother die, but she had heard it. Áine slowly backed away from Lothar again, her hand going to the knife at her waistband and taking it out.
Before he could try to perceive the knife as a threat and disarm her, she threw it at his feet. "Is féidir liom níos mó díobh seo a dhéanamh.I can make more of these." The knife had by pure luck landed with the blade sticking into the ground, and Lothar would see it was sharp. Perhaps he would recognize it as the once dull skinning knife they'd given the slaves to work with.
She kept her eyes on his, waiting for him to understand.
@Nakachu
The draw of the knife took him by surprise yet he didn’t flinch. All it did was make his eye narrow on her to wait a see what she would do next. He was not afraid of a small cut by a knife, knowing he could protect himself from any death that she could put on him. But the throwing of that knife at his feet was unsuspected. His eyes would follow it as she started to speak in that foreign language of hers. It was indeed sharp, very sharp and he did know that it had not been since the start.
But instead of impressing him it just drew out his anger. He ignored that blade sticking out and would grab her arm once more. With a shift move he had her on the ground with him, he stomach down to the floor as he pressed his knee not so gently into the small of her back to keep her pinned down. One hand going into her hair to twist her head to the side and pin her roughly into the ground so she could still see him.
“You want to play girl!?” He shouted at her. “Think I will be impressed by you sharpening a knife?” He added to it, before he spit down into her face. He was not going to stand by her defying him like that, especially not when he had brought back something from her home. She was a slave, she needed to know her place and that place was one that washed clothes, not sharpened knives.
He started to strip her down, making sure that no other things were hidden inside of her clothing as he tossed the rough leather to the side. Not stripping her for the sake of wanting her naked, but for the sake of not being able to hide something. Her skin was still black and blue, cuts in her skin making sharp red lines, yet he didn’t care.
Only then did he pull her back to her feet and grabbed a hold of her chin in a way that forced her jaw open. “Slaves like you don’t deserve clothing to hide their modesty.” He spit at her before letting go of her again. He pulled the knife from the ground and inspected it for one second before handing it to the male that had watch over his tent t
Manhandled. Again. Áine didn't try to fight him or speak back. The less she struggled the less she hurt herself. And she was still hurting everywhere.
What she did do, however, was meet his gaze whenever he looked at her. Her own grey eyes were fearful. There was no hiding that fact. Or the fact that her cheeks burned red with humiliation. Or the fact that she was shaking with fear. Despite all that she fixed her eyes on his and waited for him to calm himself down. Temper tantrum, she thought, her eyes narrowing slightly as she mirrored his expression.
When he finished stripping her and pulled her to her feet, she wiped the spit out of her eyes. That and tears. She didn't know she'd cried. Quiet, frustrated and fearful tears. Turning to watch him, she finally found her voice again and spoke, soft but quivering words while she pointed to herself. "Is gabha mé.I am a blacksmith."
Something Grainne had said stuck with her. But if Áine was going to try and accept her situation, to survive, she would have to try and make herself useful to them as more than a punching bag and someone who washed their clothes. Perhaps the mere idea of a female working a forge was so alien to him he'd never understand it. But to her, it was the only thing she knew how to do well. She looked down at her pale, cold hands and showed him her palms. The slight callousness of them from smithing for years already. Her father had taught her his trade early.
Eventually she shook her head and looked away, not expecting him to understand or care.
@Nakachu
She was right in assuming that he did not understand. He couldn’t hear her words in her language, could not understand what they meant. And to him, being able to sharpen a blade did not make you a blacksmith, so that didn’t even cross his mind. “Stop your gibberish, girl.” He spoke, not even saying her name even though he knew it. Even as she showed her hands he just scoffed at her in a smirk.
“You want to make yourself useful? Is that it?” He spoke then as he walked towards her, seeming to at least slightly grasp what she meant. He first took her hand and rubbed over the callus. Even though it was there and for sure she had more then your average woman, it was little compared to the thick layers that had grown on his skin. Some of the cracked apart and dry, others just so tick he barely felt the skin underneath anymore. All the callus told him was that she was used to working with her hands, something that was a good sign for them.
But then those callused hands moved to her breast instead, his rough fingers dancing around her skin and moving over her nipples. “You have ways to be useful. You better learn those first before asking things of me.” He spoke in a harsh way, even if he knew that she would not understand at all.
@ShadowCat
She shied away from him when he approached, instinctively raising an arm to protect her face if he was to strike her. But when he took her hands in his own, she stilled. The massive difference between their hands suddenly became grossly apparent. Hers small, cold and pale. His massive, rough, tanned, but warm. She didn't mind it as much as the thought she would and remained in her place.
He spoke again, a rough voice forming entirely foreign words. Áine's eyes lifted to his face, studying the lines of his features. He was attractive, she could admit to that much. But the expression on his face wasn't gentle or inviting.
When he moved his hand to her breast, her skin shifted under his touch. Her pink nipple hardened. He spoke again, more foreign words. But she somehow understood the intent behind them. Áine's gaze trailed from studying his features and lifted to his eyes. She had to tilt her head back to look up at him, his proximity looming over her.
Something in her eyes hardened. That defiant fire ever burning within her. But shifting, leaving the fear behind in favor of something else. She wouldn't let him break her. And he'd already made it clear he could do anything he wanted to her. Whenever he wanted. She took a step closer, her hand raising to his chest. She was hesitant to touch him, pausing just a few inches away from his skin.
@Nakachu
He was half surprised when she didn’t shy away from him when he reached for her breast and because of it his fingers remained there. He even moved to the other breast at some point as his eyes met with hers. He was not forcing himself on her, if anything he was being rather gentle for him.
He watched her movements as she stepped closer, his face not showing the surprise that he felt inside of him. He was curious if anything, curious what she was going to choose to do. He knew that they could not understand each other in words, but it seemed that something between them had spoken. A silent understanding, maybe even an agreement had formed. If she could do what he wanted from her, perhaps he could give her what she wanted as well.
So instead of forcing his hands upon her he would take his back and strip himself from the leather that covered his torso. He once more came before her bare, his tanned skin gleaming in the candle light. The gash he had before was still there, just as angry and red as hers seemed to be. The rest of his skin also showing scars from previous injury. Only then did that hand go back to her breast once more. His thumb moving over the pink of her nipple that had already hardened from his touch.
@ShadowCat
Áine remained where she was while he stripped down, watching in silence. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of all his scars. She'd seen them the night before, but it had been in the light of a single lamp. Now she saw them clearer, and she hesitantly touched him. His skin was warm, surprisingly soft aside from the scars. One of her fingers trailed the line of a scar that must have been a very severe injury once.
She could read a story on his skin. A story about his life. Scars from many battles fought and won. Mesmerized and appalled at once, she looked back up at his face, realizing he was watching her intently. Her eyebrows raised slightly, having questions she wanted to ask but no way of asking.
Her hand kept exploring his chest, every dip and curve of muscles and scars. Eventually it trailed lower, down his abs and past his belly button. She stopped there, shy and uncertain of how he would react.
Was a slave even allowed to touch their captors? He'd allowed it so far, even making himself available to her. But how much further? Áine didn't have any experience with men in this way. She'd never touched a man like this, and curiosity began forming in her mind. The touch of his hand to her nipples was gentle, coaxing a pleasurable response from her body.
Was he as sensitive as her, she wondered.
@Nakachu
He was indeed watching her. At some point his hand barely moved against her breast anymore. Only sometimes feeling over her nipple. His eyes would slowly start to soften. The natural dip to his eyebrows still making him look intimidating, but his eyes showed a strange kind of gentleness inside of them.
His chest would rise and fall slowly underneath her touch. He never moved, never tried to dictate where she went. He simply let her be, let her explore the lines of his muscles and scars. He had some hair over his chest, and a line that went from his belly button down to past his pants, surely ending at his manhood.
And as she trailed further down, she would slowly start to get a reaction from him. Especially as those fingers came to the very lower end of his stomach, to that final bit of skin that was exposed to the air in that moment that he couldn’t help but tense his abs underneath her touch. He felt that blood rushing slowly to his length, the slightest of bulge starting to grow in his loins. Yet even then he did not move, still waiting to see what she would do. Almost like he was trying to coax a shy and scared animal into coming to feed from his hand.
@ShadowCat
All her senses on high alert, keeping track of every movement he made, his breaths, the shift of his hands or eyes, Áine noticed the tension in his abs. Her grey eyes flicked between her hand touching him and his face. She saw his expression had changed, and hers changed with it. Looking down, she saw the slight bulge in his pants and she swallowed. Her inner muscles tensed, a reminder of how it had hurt when he raped her. But she also remembered how she'd felt something different. Something that in this moment toyed at the edge of her imagination. A promise of pleasure.
But a promise he'd denied her.
Her hand trailed lower, on the outside of his pants. Gentle and worried he'd get mad with her. Worried he'd just manhandle her again. Rape her again. Hurt her again.
Touching the bulge she cupped her hand over it, watching his face closely for any indication he didn't appreciate the advance. Her breaths came in shaking puffs, lips slightly parted and eyes wide.
@Nakachu
The cup of her hands around his bulge made those apps tense even more. A soft grunt coming from between her lips. Yet he didn’t move, he didn’t make an attempt to press her hand into it more, or to grab into her. He was simply curious to see what else she would do.
His length would only grow underneath her hand, pulsing gently underneath it. He would once more take his hand away from her breast and move it to his pants. He moved slow as if any movement could scare her away. He let it drop to the floor, pooling around his ankles and boots. His length stood slightly from his hips, already almost fully erect before her. He stepped closer to her, closing that distance between them so that instead of reaching they could comfortably touch one another.
He brought his hand back to her breast once more. Even if he was still being gentle, his fingers would start to become a bit more eager. Cupping her and playing with he nipples, sometimes pinching it between his fingers, yet never enough to hurt her.
@ShadowCat
She didn't move away when Lothar let his pants drop, watching the erect member pop out of its confinement. Áine allowed him to lay his hand back on her, his touch more teasing than before. Almost… arousing.
She put both her hands on him, again admiring the shape of his body. While he was this close, his size dwarfed hers and she was slightly in awe of it. None of the men from her village had been this big, tall or… her grey eyes moved to his member, one hand trailing the line of hair back down. Her small hand wrapped around his girth, knowing she would feel slightly cold compared to his warmth. It was like he was glowing, the lights from the lamps casting a bronze shade on him. She felt his member swell more in her hand, pulsing slightly. She watched it, and him, wanting to rouse a response out of him.
At this point, Áine was doing things experimentally. She had no clue how to please a man or how to even arouse him. But she understood it was about movement. Her grip wasn't firm, even though she knew he could likely tolerate a great deal of firmness. He hadn't been gentle when he raped her after all.
Her hand slid along the entire length of his member, ending at the tip where a small and slick drop of precum had leaked from him. She looked up at his face when she caught that drop with her thumb, gently rubbing it out on the tip of his member.
The moment that hand wrapped around his length another groan left between his lips. Even if she believed her hands to be quite calussed, to him it felt smooth. He did indeed grow more erect in her hand. The skin around his shaft was soft, a few veins bulging along the sides that she could feel under her finger.
His eyes seemed to grow with a strange intensity and he stepped even closer to her till they were merely inches apart. It was keeping everything inside him to not force himself into her, to not take her the same way he had taken her the night before.
Even for him this was different. He wasn't used to being pleasured, he was used to taking what he wanted. To have that hand explore his body in such a curious manner was making him burn inside of her.
"You like what you feel, Anja?" He spoke her name for the first time. His hand went from her breast to her chin and lifted her eyes to him, though it was gentle this time. "What happened to the girl who cried last night?" He was trying to understand the change in her.
@ShadowCat
Hearing her name pronounced in his tongue was strange. Lothar's language didn't cooperate with the softness of her own, although the sound wasn't unpleasant. Her grey eyes lifted to his when he took her chin, green gaze almost scrutinizing her face. She instantly let go of him, worried for a moment she'd done something wrong. The way he'd slowly closed the distance between them suddenly became very apparent and she twitched to steal back her space.
But something stopped her. Perhaps it was the hand under her chin, gentle and yet capable of harm. Or perhaps it was her own curiosity. Or the way he was looking at her. Whatever it was she remained rooted in place, trying to understand what he'd said. But he gave her no visual clues to what the words meant, so she could only guess. For all she knew he could be scolding her, even if he didn't look angry. She didn't trust him.
"Tá tú scanraithe dom…You're scaring me" she muttered. She raised her hands slightly to show she'd not meant any harm.
@Nakachu
He didn’t understand what she had said either and he searched her eyes for something that could tell him. She seemed afraid suddenly. Like he had gotten to close and he had finally scared the animal that he had been trying to lure in. Her hand had pulled away from him, leaving a pulsing length behind that longed for her hand back.
“Don’t stop.” He said, perhaps a small bit of a command hidden behind his tone, yet his words remained gentle. He took a hold of her hand and guided it back around him, not letting her pull away. He stepped closer to her once more, his body heat now able to be felt by her own naked skin. He had stepped away from the pants that had hung around his ankles. If she took a step back from him, he would simply follow her until the back of her thighs reached that plateau filled with furs where they had slept the day before.
@ShadowCat
She allowed her hand to be guided back to his member, hard and warm in her hand. But the resurface of intimidation was enough for her to back away. Every step he followed made her feel like a hunted animal slowly being cornered. His grip on her wrist that made sure she was still stroking his member had grown more firm, unwilling to let go. Unwilling to let her stop.
Áine had a moment where she wondered how he could trust her not to hurt him. That very limb was the cause of pain after all. But she didn't hurt him. She stroked his length until it stood pulsing, poking into her stomach every time he stepped after her.
When the back of her thighs met the furs of the bed, she stopped. Her head turned to look at the bed before she looked back at him, the stormy expression on his face foreboding more pain. Pain he'd surely inflict if he had to take her by force again.
Bending one knee and moving it onto the bed, she climbed into it backwards while still watching him. The building unease and fear became more clear on her face.
@Nakachu
He could feel the unrest building inside her, yet that burning desire inside of him was building with every stroke her hands made around him. He found it hard to hold back, hard to not just claim what was his. Yet he had enjoyed it so far when she had been willing and he had not liked it when she had cried the night before.
So once she climbed into that bed he stayed back. His own feet remaining on the floor even if he kept her hand trapped against his pulsing length. He wanted to speak to her, but he knew that she would not be able to understand. His unknowing words perhaps more intimidating then his silence. So he kept his mouth closed as he once more adapted the motionlessness that he had used to pull her in in the first place. He even let go of her hand, hoping she would keep it there as another drop of precum had started to form at his tip.
@ShadowCat
Surprised he hadn't followed her onto the bed, even letting go of her, Áine stilled as well. Her grey eyes roamed his figure while she settled to stand on her knees on the bed. It didn't change the height difference between them, her still at relatively the same height as before.
Her hands slowly began exploring his form again, this time testing if his nipples were as sensitive as her own. They hardened at her touch and she searched his face for indication of pleasure. It was odd to freely examine him like this, to be able to see what had his breaths stutter or his muscles flex.
Roaming her hands lower on his body, she took his member again using both hands this time. One wrapped more firmly around the base of it while the other smoothed the precum in a circle around the tip. She could tell by the soft sound he made that he enjoyed at least this. Encouraged by this, she stroked the entire length more firmly.
Her eyes remained on his face, highly on alert for all changes in his behavior.
@Nakachu
It seemed to have worked for him to take a step back and keep his hands to himself. But he would lie if he said it was easy. She once more roamed his chest, ran her fingers over his nipples and even if they did respond to her touches, he didn’t give her much indication otherwise that he was enjoying it.
It was when those hands wrapped back around him that he did respond. Her grasp was more firm this time, less afraid as she stroked him. His abs flexed and those soft grunts started to fill the air a bit more. At some point his eye closed and his head fell back a bit as he enjoyed the feeling of those hands exploring his length. He pulsed in her hands, his hips moving ever so slightly against her. His hands however remained at his side even if his hands were balled together into fists, aching to grab her.
@ShadowCat
She saw the change in him, and her eyes narrowed just like his had the night before. But she had no intention of robbing him of this pleasure. Instead her hands began stroking with more determination, feeling his thick length throb under her touch. More of that sleek liquid leaked from him and she used it to her advantage, coating his length in it.
Áine's pulse quickened slightly, watching his head fall back a little. It was the first time he'd taken his eye off her, and she knew then that he'd gladly lose himself in desire.
The hand she'd wrapped around the base of his member moved down, smoothly touching his balls too. She felt them shift, the skin tightened and pulled them up into his body. Áine's other hand stroked him a little harder, slightly faster.
"An maith leat é seo Lothar?Do you like this Lothar?" she asked, knowing full well he didn't understand.
@Nakachu
He got lost in that feeling of her. His hips starting to move on it’s own accord more, thrusting gently into that hand that was holding him. Those eyes staying closed as kept working on him. He was starting to feel it, starting to just let those grunts escape his mouth. It was such a different feeling from what he had felt the night before, or even the time he had raped her in the forest. A type of pleasure that rocked him till his very core and made him feel weaker in his knees.
And then she said his name. His eyes shot open and stared down at her. He had not understood the rest of what she had said, but his name rolling from her tongue. It almost sounded like it was not his name, spoken in that melodic language that she spoke.
He knew then that he could not hold himself back anymore, and likely he had scared her by suddenly turning his gaze back to her. His hand reached for her and disappeared into her ginger locks. He grabbed into it and then in a swift movement pulled her forward, closer to him. Even if he was more pushing her head then actually pulling her hair.
And just like that he pressed his lips against her, stealing her breath and forcing his way into her mouth as soon as he got an opening. The coarse hairs of his beard and mustache rubbing against her plump lips as his tongue searched for her own.
@ShadowCat
Lothar had indeed scared her when his head snapped back to her, his green eyes more intense than before. But she didn't have time to react beyond a startle, suddenly finding herself crushed against his frame. His lips were rough, beard scraping against her skin as he kissed her. The moment she gasped for air and her lips parted, his tongue pushed inside.
At first she pushed against him, shocked at the sudden invasion. Her breasts were pressed into his chest, his skin warm against her own. She could feel the throbbing member trapped between them, some of that precum smearing onto her stomach. The hand in her curly long hair wouldn't let her pull away and Áine had to use all her willpower to not start fighting him.
Behind her chest, her heart had begun doing wild jumps.
@Nakachu
He would indeed not let her pull away from him, the hand in her hair keeping her against him and keeping their lips locked together. He enjoyed her taste, the slight sweetness that was hidden in her mouth. Tilting his head to she side just slightly as he pressed against those soft lips. His other hand landed against the small of her back, resting just above her rear and pressed her against him. His manhood was between them and as she seemed to struggle against him, she would rub against him only adding to his pleasure.
Yet his hands didn’t seem to grab at her, and he wasn’t pushing her down or hurting her. He was longing and needing, instead of taking. He let that kiss go on for a while longer, only letting their liplock loosen long enough to take the breath that he needed before he pulled away from her.
His hands left her hair and her back and he gave her a small push so she would fall backwards in the bed. He joined her in it this time and he moved over her on his hands and knees. Yet he didn’t pin her down, simply hovering over her, giving her a way out if she really wanted to take it. His mouth lowered to her breast and took her nipple into his mouth, his tongue soon swirling around them, perking them up once more.
@ShadowCat
Heavy heartbeats thundered against their chests pressed together. When Áine realized that the entrapment was less restraining than it first had felt like, she relaxed a bit more. Her mouth eventually gave into the kiss, softly following his movements and lead. Warmth began spreading through her, testing the mental boundaries of kissing her own captor.
That warmth spread slowly, seeping into her through the connection to his skin. How could he be so warm, when the evening air in the tent was slightly chilly. It took a dive into her stomach, settling inside her and spurred on by the feeling of his member pressed against her.
When he pushed her, she landed back onto the furred bed with a muted 'ohmph'. Throughout the whole ordeal, a small panic was trickling under the surface of her behavior -still distrustful of him and his temper.
But then his head lowered to her breasts and that warmth within her flared up. A soft and entirely unintentional moan slipped past her lips, her hands grabbing into his hair. Rays of pleasure shoot through her torso, far more insistent than when he'd only touched her. Moving her hands to his shoulders, her nails dug into his skin a little.
Hovering above her like he was, even if not pinning her down he was still using himself as a solid cage around her. But his warmth engulfed her more and Áine wasn't entirely frightened this time. The less force he used, the more she found herself actually liking what he was doing. A notion that was both unsettling and went against her independence as a free-born woman.
@Nakachu
The moan that escaped her did something to him. It made him swell even more, his erection almost unbearable at that point, especially now that her hand had left him. It landed right in his core, fueling that fire that had been started the moment that her hands had explored his chest.
He kept sucking at her breast, nipping at her nipples. Soon moving to the other and giving it the same treatment. Those hands in his hair almost pulling him forward more then pressing him back and the nail digging into his skin only made him groan more.
His mouth moved up, kissing and nipping his way to her neck, leaving a trail of his saliva on her skin. His hips lowered into hers and he moved her legs apart for him. His member soon laying on top of her sex and he would start to thrust his hips into her. He never entered her though, simply rubbed over her, letting his length move over her lips and clit, coating him in the slickness that had build there. His grunting and groaning started to become louder as he sucked and bit at her neck. It was the only thing he could do to keep him from forcing himself inside her.
@ShadowCat
Feeling him rub his member against her sex had her stiffen, expecting him to simply thrust himself inside her. But when he didn't and instead rubbed his tip against that sensitive little nub, her breaths hitched. A heated pink blush rushed into her cheeks, more than a little ashamed of herself for reacting the way she did.
The warmth within her spread down her thighs, centering at the very core of her body. Her inner muscles flexed, almost aching with newly discovered need. Her insides burned and writhed with it and she almost lifted her hips to meet his.
Another moan slipped away from her as he kept rubbing against that spot. Moving her head to the side, she nipped at the skin on his neck in return, her hands trailing his flanks down to his hips. Her fingernails dragged along his skin, not leaving marks but still scratching him.
Her sex was wet and sensitive at this point, that hooded nub coaxed out of its hiding place. Áine found herself wanting more. Like the night before when the promise of pleasure had toyed at the edge of her mind.
@Nakachu
The more he moved over her, the more he wanted to enter her. But he didn’t want this to end the way it had the day before. He wanted more of those moans that seemed to slowly escape her. He wanted his nail to dig deeper into his skin with need, he wanted her mouth to run along him more. But more then anything he wanted to bury himself deep inside of her. “Anja..” He almost grunted into the air in a deep voice that almost sounded more like a growl then a name.
His hands the suddenly came down to her hips, the same way that he had grabbed a hold of her the night before as he had thrusted himself inside her. But instead of that he simply pulled her flush against him as he flipped them over. He landed on his back in the sheets with her sitting on top of him. His length throbbing between them as she sat on his shaft. For just a moment he would rub her on top of him, the new pressure of her weight pulling more groans from his mouth. But then he loosened his grip as he stared at her with hooded eyes that were filled with an unsatiable hunger. Waiting to see what she would do.
@ShadowCat
The sound of her name rolling off his tongue, heavy with his thick accent, inspired a slight shake of approval. She could learn to like that sound.
She yelped in surprise when he flipped them around. The strength and ease he could move them both had her stare down at him in shock, suddenly finding herself on top of him. She straddled his hips, his member tucked underneath her and throbbing against her own sex. Her hands came to rest on his muscled chest, supporting herself on him.
For a long silent moment, she stared down at him while he grind his hips up towards her. Confusion reflected in her eyes, but this shift of position allowed her to explore him more. Her long curls fell down around them as she leaned forward, trailing his chest, nipples and neckline with her mouth. She'd bite him every now and then, gentle little bites that surely wouldn't hurt. Experimentally testing if what he'd done to her felt just as good for him when the tables were turned.
Once she got high enough that they were face to face, she paused for a moment to meet his gaze. Then she kissed him, slow and careful at first. Her breaths were slightly uneven, desire mingled with distrust coursing through her veins. But he'd given her control -for now- and she wouldn't back down from that challenge.
She finished her kiss with a bite on his bottom lip, a new fire in her eyes. Grinding herself on top of him, the wetness from her sex rubbed off on his length.
@Nakachu
He was half surprised when she actually took the offer of being on top of him. He had been convinced that she would run, that this could never work out the way that the hoped it. That having a willing female, a female who enjoyed being underneath him, was impossible. Yet her hands soon snaked around his skin and her curls tickled him before her mouth hit his skin again.
Each time that she would nips or bite him those big hands around her hips would flex. Soon his eyes were once more closed, enjoying what she was doing. Her warmth on top of his manhood sending him to new heights of pleasure, his hands feeling his hips move on top of him.
Once her head seemed to lift he opened his eyes again to gaze into hers. They were still filled with a small amount of fear for him, but there was also heat inside of them. The grey having darkened just slightly in her lust. As she came into his lips, one hand left her lips and snaked into her hair once more. He wanted to deepen it, wanted to claim her mouth for his own. Before he got the chance she pulled away with a bite into his lips, making his grunt in a bit of discomfort for the first time. Yet at the same time she would feel his length pulse against her.
Those hips seemed to pick up the pace, her slickness spreading fast around his length, creating a slippery mess that she could move over. He was nestled deep between her lips, his tip and shaft rubbing over her nub with every movement. His hands assisted her grind, demanding more of her as his mouth opened slightly and his head went back into the bed.
@ShadowCat
Áine groaned a little against his chest when he put his hands onto her hips, grinding her more onto him. Every shift, move and slide were pushing on her clit, sending shivers of pleasure through her. She glanced up at his face, seeing he'd let his head fall back again and closed his eyes.
An image came to mind. A memory buried that suddenly popped back into her inner vision. She'd interrupted a couple of villagers once. A young couple who'd snuck off into one of the barns for privacy. The man had been sprawled out on his back just like Lothar was now, and the woman was using her mouth on him. The expression on Lothar's face was almost an exact copy of that man's.
Áine slowly shifted, lifting herself off him. The moment she moved, his member rose up when it wasn't trapped underneath her weight anymore. Her mouth trailed nibbles and bites down his abs, one hand grasping around the moist base of his member. When her mouth reached it, she experimentally tasted him, her tongue swirling around the sleek head while she looked up to watch his reaction. This was highly unfamiliar territory for her, unsure of what do do and how to do it. But she wanted to see what he'd allow and how far she could go.
@Nakachu
When she pulled away he couldn't help but look up at her, that hand that was on her hip dangerously close at pulling her back into him. But when it became clear that she was not going to try and run off on him, but instead stayed he decided to wait a bit longer before deciding what to do.
Her next move was not what he had expected at all. He watched as she lowered her mouth to his abs, once more flexing underneath him. But it was not until she reached for his based and then even proceeded to move her tongue over his tip that he truly got lost in what she was doing. His hand flexed on her hip, her head rolling back once more. Her tongue was warm, just the slightest little bit of rough around his sensitive tip. One of his knees coming up as he just didn't know what to do anymore in that moment.
His hand wrapped into her hair once more and before she could complained her moved his hips forward and pressed his tip past those plump lips of hers. He groaned out into the air. Her mouth warm and moist, her lips tight around the head of his manhood. He pushed her further in, urging her to take more of him, but not plunging her down fully. Another groan leaving his mouth, his abs tight with tension.
@ShadowCat
When he pushed his hips up and added a hand at the back of her head, Áine knew he was most definitely approving of her actions. She held back a little, wanting to do this at her own pace. But he slid himself deeper into her mouth and she rubbed her tongue along his length. When she pulled up, she added suction and felt him shudder hard in response. Encouraged, Áine repeated it and allowed him deeper this time.
He tasted strange. A bittersweet mixture of both their natural juices. Not unpleasant, but nothing like she'd tasted before. When she pulled away again she swirled her tongue around his tip and felt him twitch and swell even more underneath her.
Lifting her head from him, she looked at his face and saw how utterly lost in it he was. It was almost empowering, knowing she had this large mass of muscled male whimpering between her hands.
@Nakachu
Every movement of her tongue was sending him to new heights of pleasure. This wasn't something he had ever done with a slave, as a slave would never be allowed such close access to such a sensitive part of a male with their teeth. One tight clench of her jaws and the changes of him bleeding out were not low. But with her he let her. She had done enough at that point to show her somewhat compliance and he was to lost in that feeling now to stop. His abs were clenching, her body having trouble staying in place underneath her and the slightest bit of sweat was starting to sheen against his chest and forehead.
As she took him deeper he couldn't help thrusting his hips into her, forcing himself deep into her mouth, but not deep enough to make her gag. Even if she was trying to set the pace on her own, he was too lost in it now to let her have that control. He kept pressing in and out of her, that suction she had put on him causing small sounds to escape between them. He lifted his head, staring at the sight of her with her length in her mouth. "Look at me.." he demanded from her, but of course she could not understand what he had said.
@ShadowCat
Getting nothing but good responses from Lothar, Áine increased her firmness a bit. She took his length as far into her mouth as she could without gagging, a reflex she had no control over. His member gleamed in the light of her saliva coating it, throbbing eagerly for more of her attention. Hearing his breathing go faster, grunting and feeling him shift underneath her made her even more certain that she was at least doing something right.
When he spoke, his voice was harsh, almost breathless. Áine suddenly stopped and her eyes lifted to look at him, dropping him from her mouth. She froze, watching for signs that he suddenly disapproved. Signs of anger.
One of her hands was still around the base of his member, and she let go of him.
@Nakachu
As she pulled away from him suddenly he could no longer keep himself in check. He needed her and he was not going to let her get away now. She had done all those things to him, got him throbbing and wanting till his erection felt almost painful at how much blood had rushed through it and now she was stopping?
His hands quickly came to her before she could fully pull away and tugged her forward so she almost fell over him. In a quick motion he had flipped them over once again, finding his way on top of her once more. He forced her legs open, the smell of her sex hitting the air and only driving him into more of an animalistic need for her. He no longer seemed to be afraid that she would pull away from him like a scared animal. He simply needed her. The motion of her pulling away having made that much clear.
He placed his slick tip at her entrance, her saliva and juices still covering it and making it slippery. His mouth finding that spot where her neck and shoulder connected and nipping against it as he pushed into her, grunting deep and low.
@ShadowCat
She saw him move, large hands grabbing for her and pulling her down. There was no time to try and prevent it. Despite the sudden roughness to his handling of her, she couldn't see any anger on his face. Áine didn't fight him, although she did stiffen when he moved himself between her legs. The entry wasn't as painful this time as the night before, her own natural lubricant making it much easier for him to slide inside her.
That however, didn't mean it was easy for her to take him. He pushed his full length into her in one swift motion and Áine stifled a groan between pleasure and pain. At least he wasn't holding her down this time, biting and sucking at the side of her neck instead. She buckled into his hips, her earlier arousal still there but subdued slightly while she'd explored him. Her inside hugged him tightly, tensing for a moment until the initial pain was dulled away.
Her hands grasped his shoulders, looking for something solid to brace herself on. Nails dug into his skin again, harder this time as her muscles were stretching to accommodate his member.
@Nakachu
His body was hot against her, the small layer of sweat having only becoming a bit more since she had put her mouth on him. Her sex accepted him easier then the other times. He could still feel the resistance there, but the lubrication still made it easy for him to slip in. Her insides clenched around him, forcing a groan out of him that vibrated into her neck.
His hips would keep moving into her, though not at as merciless of a speed at which he had done before. It was slower, more drawn out. He pulled out of her almost the whole way before diving back into her. His mouth still sucking at the base of her neck, leaving red marks on her skin.
Eventually he pulled away, putting his arms on either sides of his and keeping himself up. His hair framed his face as he looked down at her. His mouth was opened and his breathing deepened her he drew air. Those green eyes intense and full of pleasure as they searched for hers, wanting her to feel the same.
He took that one hand then and brought it to her mouth, pulling down her lip and hooked past her teeth to open her mouth. “Moan for me.” He spoke to her. “Let me hear your voice.”
@ShadowCat
She couldn't know if he was slower out of kindness to her or just because he was indulging himself. Either way, she could appreciate the slower thrusts, even though he pushed himself deep by each insertion. Deep enough that her hips lifted slightly, rocking her body upwards on the fur bed. She kept her hands on him even when he lifted himself a little, watching her face intently.
Not understanding the words or the gesture, she moved her head to shake his hand off her face. A slight irritation to her movement… But one harder thrust from his hips, his member hitting the innermost barriers of her body, was all it took to coax a sound from her; a shuddering moan that allowed his thumb to remain on her bottom lip. Her back arched slightly into it, feeling herself respond to the invasion of her body much more favorably than before.
The earlier warmth that had spread throughout her body returned, heating her up by each push or pull against her insides. Another moan slipped past her lips. She lifted to rest on his hips, meeting the thrusts more now than withdrawing from them. She was still keenly aware he was watching her, and she looked back at him with the same fire in her eyes as before.
@Nakachu
He soon got the moan that he wanted from her. He couldn't help the satisfied grin on his face then. The pitch and sound of it radiating through that room, so very different from the deep grunts that he produced. He trust into her again and another moan came from her. He stared down at her in approval before he removed that thumb and placed his hand back into the bed.
He would pull away from her slowly, but came into her stronger now. Grunting each time he did and hoping to draw out those deep sounds from her lungs. The sound of their bodies slapping together also joining the chorus.
Already he could feel himself building up to something. Between her strokes, her sucking him and now being inside her he had been stimulated plenty. Her hips drawing in to meet his only making it feel so much better.
A willing woman.. a woman who enjoyed him being inside her, who moaned at his thrust. It was what he had wanted and somehow it was what he had gotten from the fiery woman that lay beneath him. The woman who had pulled out a knife on him not long ago. He knew then that he was branding her, that she was to stay and be his.
@ShadowCat
Somewhat prepared for them now, Áine met with the stronger thrusts with her own. Her thighs tucked firmly onto his hips helped her not move away each time he pushed into her stronger. She also found that raising her hips allowed him to hit her differently, and that warmth inside her spread further.
Her breaths became louder and faster, moans and sometimes hoarse groans escaping her lungs when she exhaled. Tension began to build in her sex, causing her to hug firmer around his member. It felt like a building orgasm, but different from the ones she'd achieved on her own in silence. Deeper and far more powerful. But it also built slower, something that had her pant in slight frustration.
Áine chased it. In that moment she couldn't care less about who the man atop her was or what he'd done. The promise of something pleasant and relieving in the middle of everything else horrible was too much to ignore. Perhaps later she would be ashamed of her own weakness, but she pushed the shame to the back of her mind and instead allowed herself to only feel what her body was telling her.
The pressure and tension inside her grew, a tightly coiled string wanting to burst but still held back. Her fingernails dug harder into his shoulders, short and shallow breaths coming from her lungs.
@Nakachu
The rhythm between them seemed to become more fluent with time. As his thrust speed increased so did the way her hips moved to meet with him half way. Both of then panting and groaning into the air, their voices surely heard by the guards outside his tent.
But the sound was far different from the usual cries that were produced when a slave was taken. There no cries of pain. No shallow moans. No sobbing or screaming. She was making sounds of pleasure and arousal. And so was he.
Finally the tension in his own busy became to much. The grip that she had on him was increasing with every second, hugging his length tighter. His chest was covered in sweat, his hair sticking to his chin and forehead as it swayed with his trusts.
Until he finally got pulled over that edge. He pushed deep into her with a final thrust as his manhood pulsed inside of her, releasing his seed in the very depth of her as he threw his head back.
@ShadowCat
Áine could feel he was close, the pace of his thrusts and how his jawline tensed just a couple of many indicators. His member felt like it swelled inside her even more, and it spurred her own building orgasm further. A thin layer of sweat had formed on her forehead, clutching him tightly as that coil kept winding her up inside.
"Fan liom…wait for me" she muttered between frantic breaths, trying to catch up to him before he finished. It felt like she was burning up inside, each new thrust into her adding to the already tight pressure. She grasped him harder, as if it would help her more along or slow him down. So close… She shut her eyes hard, back arching and thighs shaking with the need for release.
Then Lothar pushed himself deep inside her, holding himself there as his body shook. Áine felt him swell hard and then pulsate, spilling himself into her. Her voice became a hoarse shriek when that seemed to be what pushed her over the edge. Her inner muscles suddenly clamped down on him hard, spasming wildly while her own orgasm claimed her. She couldn't move, only hold onto him while it lasted. He must have felt it, but she also remembered how he'd denied it before. Áine didn't care.
Spent and breathless, she almost collapsed as she released his hips from between her thighs.
@Nakachu
The tigth grasp that she had around him only made his own release more intense. He could feel her sex gripping at him, milking him for that last drop of his seed.
He finished around the same time she did, collapsing into her. For a short moment his full weight was on her. Almost 200 pounds of pure weight resting on top of her. He soon shifted off, his member pulling out of her as he rolled into his back next to her.
He was panting, gleaming from sweat. His manhood was still erect at first, but slowly started to soften against his belly, slick from their combined juices. He brought a hand up to wipe his hair from his face.
Even like that he was massive compared to her. The dampness making his muscles appear even more defined. He just had his eyes closed as he came down from it all. His breathing slowing down by small bits.
@ShadowCat
She didn't move when he rolled off her. Not for a long time. Áine laid there and gazed up at the tent ceiling while she regained her breaths. Every now and then, aftershock twitches of pleasure rushed through her. His cum leaked out of her, pooling underneath her. But she couldn't find the energy to care enough to try and clean herself.
Once she had calmed and she heard Lothar's breaths go back to normal, she glanced over at him. His form was still impressive, even when he laid sprawled out and relaxed like that. Her mind was quiet for the moment, having found a small bubble of bliss in the midst of a horrible situation.
The tent had fallen silent. And after a while that silence was broken by the soft growl from her stomach. Right, she thought and shifted to lay on her side, facing him. Food. She hadn't eaten since the night before. Something that had bothered her all day, and only now made itself known again.
@Nakachu
He himself was also just resting in those furs. His breathing returned to normal and just made his chest rise and fall into a regular pattern. That was all he did till Anja’s stomach suddenly complained loudly into the air. He couldn’t help but grunt softly and without turning to her he would get up and walk to the entrance of the tent and open the flap at the front. “Fetch me food.” He commanded Tortrund who was still guarding his tent. He took off instantly and returned soon enough to resume his position, having given the command to someone else.
He then turned back to Anja, his eyes looking at her in an almost curious manner. Her hair in disarray, her body still slightly pink underneath all her bruising and cuts. More spots in her neck were red from the marks he had left on her and her nipples still stood perky from her breasts. He walked back over to her and places a knee on the furs between her legs, but not pressing into her and sort of hovered over her again. His hand went down to her skin, his rough fingers exploring over her much like she had done to him before. He went from her collarbone to the mounds of her breasts, further down to where he could feel her ribs before her stomach dipped in underneath. His eyes were soft and gentle, not a word muttered between them.
Grainne disliked the nights that Tortrund was on guard at Lothar’s tent. It meant that she had to go and be with the other slaves in the big and sloppy tents in the back. Surrounded by the wails of those who had yet to accept their fate, or were so hurt that they could do nothing but grunt in the air. So when she got fetched to collect food she was more then glad to get out of there.
She went by the cooking area and grabbed a big bowl of stew made of lamb and beef, as well as carrots, onions and mushroom for the vegetables. She also grabbed some bread to go along with it before starting to make her way to Lothar’s tent. As she past Tortrund she would shoot him an eye, which was me with a scowl from him before she passed through the flap of the tent.
As soon as she saw the display before her she could not help but narrow her eyebrows together. This girl who had been complaining so much in that river.. and now she was on her back, seeming to enjoy her time with this man on top of her. She was not pinned down, she was not fighting. “I brought food.” She said in Lothar’s language, though he could not keep the angry sound out of her voice. Lothar grunted in approval before he raised his head and looked back over at her, meeting her angry look. “You wish to say something, girl?” He said to her with a dangerous tone to his voice. “She will not stay.” She spoke. She might know their language, but it was still hard for her to express herself in it. “That ain’t your call.” He barked at her as he got up from the bed and walked before her. He seemed to not care about his naked state at all. He took the bowl and bread from her and then he stared her down, willing her to say more. “She hid a knife.” Grainne said then, playing what she believed was her trump card. But all it did was pull a grin from his face before his hand landed against the side of her face so hard that it made her fall to the floor. “Leave.” He ordered her and Grainne would get to her feet and leave as
Áine allowed herself to be touched by him, his hands felt big and warm on her skin, albeit rough. But then Grainne entered the tent and Áine pulled one of the furs up to cover herself.
She watched the interaction between the woman and Lothar, seeing that Grainne was clearly upset. Not even the hard tone of Lothar's language was able to conceal the anger in her voice. There was something arrogant in her face, a smugness while she said more. Áine caught the look Grainne tossed her way before saying it. She thought she could rat me out?
But then Lothar suddenly struck her, the sound of the slap echoed through the tent. Áine shot to her feet -still clutching the furs around her- and almost rushed over to the slumped up woman on the floor. She stopped herself only because Lothar was between them and still looming over her. Áine's grey eyes searched Grainne's for connection, some kind of reassurance that she was alright. "Cad a dúirt tú leis?What did you say to him?"
But the tall woman's pride had been wounded and she refused to look at either of them when she collected herself enough to exit the tent.
She looked over to Lothar with worry in her eyes. "Labhraíonn Gráinne mo theanga…Grainne speaks my language." But how could he understand her. Wish a sigh, she gestured to herself. "Áine… Gaeilge." Then she pointed to the tent flaps the tall woman had rushed through. "Grainne… Gaeilge."
Her eyes searched his for signs that he understood.
@Nakachu
As Anja came rushing over to come to the aid of the woman on the floor he put his arm out to hold her back. Anja never reached it though and stopped before then. He didn’t make a motion at all to help Grainne get back to her feet. When Anja spoke to her though, he did look sideways to her in a curious but still angry way.
He watched Grainne get back on her feet and rush out of the tent with her hand held tightly against her jaw. Only once she left he turned to Anja. He tried to understand what she was saying, but with nothing to go on it was impossible to know what she was trying to tell him. “I am not apologizing.” He said then, as he thought that she meant that he should be sorry for hitting her. He wondered if she knew that Grainne had tried to rat her out. Probably not, she didn’t understand him either.
So he just huffed at her and instead picked the bowl back up. He grabbed another bowl like he had done the night before and poured a part over. He broke the bread apart and put half of it with hers and handed it to her. “Eat.” He said to her. Not willing to take more words from her that he could not understand. He had gotten food brought because she was hugry after all.
@ShadowCat
Her heart sank a little when she saw no understanding on his face. Only more words, his expression still angered even as he handed a part of his food to her. Stew again. But the smell was delicious and Áine took it with a silent nod of her head. Saying thank you wouldn't make any difference as long as he didn't understand her.
Seating herself with her back leaning against the bed, she tucked the furs tight around her nudity before eating. With no spoon, she opted for using the piece of bread as one. Áine would eat slow and in silence, every so often looking over at the man. She was still wary of his temper despite his lack of violence against her this evening.
While she ate, she tried not to listen beyond the walls of the tent. It was clear, by the sounds, that her people and other captives were not being treated well. Focusing instead of her own situation, she glanced at the tent flaps while her mind began working again. The knife she'd sharpened hadn't made things any different. Lothar's men were too many for escape -as proven by Grainne. Lothar couldn't understand her, and she couldn't understand him. But Grainne spoke their language and that could at least prove useful.
Áine wasn't sure if the tall woman would be inclined to help her again. But right in that moment she was the only person Áine knew that at least spoke both languages.
No. Sit. Eat… Commands, really. But at least they were short words easily understood. She would have to learn more if she was to survive.
Like the night before, Áine ate most of the food, but not all. She was used to several small meals throughout the day, not one large meal in the evening. Once finished, she rose and put her bowl away on the small table in the tent. With food in her belly, warm now and physically spent, tiredness seeped into her bones.
@Nakachu
He reached over to put his loincloth back in place and then sat at the edge of the furs as he ate his stew and bread. He would eat in large chunks, slurping the stew right from the bowl. It didn't take him long at all the finish. The food was not much about taste as it was about sustenance.
His mind in the meantime wandered. He didn't look back at her. His big musculair back blocked her view of the entrance of the tent. He was going to brand her tomorrow, he had decided that much. With her branded it would be clear that she belonged to the Temoroth clan. In her case it would even specificly imply she belonged to the leader. Any other of the raiding clans would have to return her and keep her form harm. That was the rules. It was an unwritten law and also the reason why the brands were not abused.
Eventually he got up from his bed and walked to a stand at the side. He got out a wetstone from somewhere and placed it on the makeshift table. He put water over it and then grabbed the axe that was by the entrance of the tent. The same axe that had killed her mother. The edges of it were banged up from chopping at human bone and banging against other steels. It was obvious he had tried to sharpen it before.
He placed it down on the table and then look back at Anja. He stepped aside and motioned for her to go to it. "Prove your worth." He said to her as he once more motioned to the table.
@ShadowCat
Áine watched Lothar with wary curiosity as he moved around the tent, fetching items and clearing the table. She tried to stay rooted when he grabbed his axe, eyes alert for hostility. But then she saw what he'd put there, recognizing the whetstone. Stepping closer and wrapping the furs tight around herself, she managed to tie it around her chest so it wouldn't fall off her.
Carefully picking the axe off the table, she felt the massive weight of it in her hands. Her eyes trailed the metal, one finger picking at the beginning of rust forming at the top of the axehead. Most likely from poor cleaning.
The convex edge itself was surprisingly dull and full of dents. Áine would have thought that a tribe chieftain or king, or whatever Lothar was, would have the best weapons at his disposal. But perhaps this particular axe had sentimental value to him.
She should count herself lucky she didn't know this very axe had been the demise of her own mother.
Laying the axe back down on the table, swapping places with the whetstone, she dunked the axe blade in water instead. The axe would be too heavy for her to handle anyways. Then she took the rough side of the stone in her hand and made sure the axe was laying steadily, before slowly dragging the stone along the edge in one motion. She held the stone at a certain angle while applying even pressure, repeating it a few times before she turned the axe to do the same on the other side.
10:36
This axe wouldn't have been sharpened quickly, but Áine had worked with worse and took her time. After a while, the metal gleamed a bit more, the dull dents evening out by each stroke.
Flipping the stone to the smoother side, she began working with it in circular motions, filing the edge sharper. Again, she turned the axe every now and then to make sure it would be even.
Eventually, Áine straightened from the axe and inspected her work. It helped a lot, but it wasn't perfect. She looked over to Lothar who was watching her. If he truly wanted his axe sharp -sharp enough to split hairs- he'd have to provide her with a finer whetstone. What she had done here was just the rough starting work.
@Nakachu
He watched her work, seeming to question a lot of the things that she was doing. Their way of working with weapons was different, though he wouldn’t say that it worked. A whetstone was not often used and most times when a weapon was dull it was simply tossed. But this axe was the one that he had used to get into his leadership position. It did hold value to him, but it was starting to lose it’s power of being a useful weapons.
At some point he crossed his arms and just stood there, watching her work on it. She seemed to really get into it, like suddenly it didn’t matter anymore where she was or even that he was watching her. He watched her work the stone instead of the axe, use both of the sides whenever it was needed. He tried to learn from what she was doing, but the whetstone hid most of what she was doing.
Once she got up and stepped back he simply met her gaze. His eyes not telling her what he thought about it. He put the axe back against the side of the tent and turned back to her. He looked down at her, his eyes taking her in. He sighed and then reached in the pocket of the pants that laid on the ground and took out the pendant he had taken before and tossed it her way. After that he simply went back to the bed of furs and just laid himself down.
@ShadowCat
Unable to tell whether Lothar was pleased with her work, Áine just stood there and watched him put his heavy axe away. Her grey eyes turned wide when he handed her the necklace again and she took it with both hands.
The necklace was an heirloom. Passed down to her mum from her mum again, given to her as a wedding present from her granddad. It was old and held some value, bought from a trader from a different country. Áine turned the necklace in her hands, inspecting the pendant for damages. It seemed to be unharmed, but the traces of blood on it had her stomach do unwelcome turns. Closing her eyes as she allowed the pain and grief fill her for a moment, she pulled the pendant over her head. It was cold, falling to rest between the top of her breasts. She shuddered at the sensation, the grief digging into a dark place in her chest.
Mum… dad… Eira. Gone. Dead. Possibly still laying cold where these raiders had left them.
Áine's eyes stung, silent tears coating the corners and trailing down her cheeks. She'd been able to forget about it all for a little while. Forget who Lothar was and what he had done. Forget where she was. But now as she looked over to him laying on the bed, on his back and presumably ready to sleep, it all came back to her.
She stood there in the middle of the tent for quite some time, crying very silently. The agony of loss crept into her, closer and more suffocating with the creeping darkness in the tent. Nighttime was on them, the camp outside falling more silent. The air had gotten colder and she shivered a little despite the furs tucked around her. She'd never felt this alone in her life. A loneliness that threatened to eat her up from the inside if she entertained it.
Wiping her tears, she trudged towards the bed and crawled into it from the bottom to not disturb the sleeping man. There she curled up under a new furred blanket, hugging herself a little.
Thankfully, sleep came easy to her exhausted mind and body. And she let
He left her alone with her grief. He knew it was there and he had known that the necklace was something that would bring that back. So why had he given it to her? He didn’t know. Perhaps an offering of peace between them, perhaps because somewhere inside his dark barbarian heart there was some humanity left that had wanted to leave the girl with something to remember her family by.
His own family did not live anymore either. His father killed in a raid, his mother died due to sickness. His siblings never having made it past infancy. Their clan had not always been as grand as it was now and during Lothar’s time growing up it was not uncommon to lose a child like that. Yet the clan was his family and he took care of it the only way he could. He provided and they were thriving, even if that was off other peoples backs.
He found his sleep fast and easily. Laying on his side with the furs tugged up to barely his waist. He did not run cold easily and the chilly air did not bother him at all.
He didn’t stir for a while, not for a long while. It wasn’t until the sun was about to rise again that he did as well. He grunted as he got up, almost as if his muscles were sore for some reason. He got up on his feet and then left the tent, probably going to take a leak or something.
@ShadowCat
She slept that night as if she was unconscious, barely stirring on the bed, hardly moving. But her dreams were chaotic, shifting images of burning houses and the ground pooling red under her feet. In her dreams, red was everywhere. Fire. Blood. Raid curly hair that laid sprawled out on the ground. Red marks on pale skin shaped like hands. Red and aching wounds. A reddened scar covering up what used to be a beautiful dark eye.
When Lothar rose from the bed furs, her eyes opened. She didn't turn her head to watch him leave, laying there and listening instead. The lingering grief and hurt from the night before remained, making her chest feel heavy and dark. Her mother's pendant felt warm now resting on her skin.
After Lothar had left the tent, she sat up. Her body ached, stiff and sore for many reasons. Her feet ached worse today and she groaned a little when she stood. One of the furs were still wrapped around her. Her eyes searched the floor for clothes to wear, or the leaders she'd worn the day before.
@Nakachu
Lothar moved around the camp with purpose. He wanted to get this over with. The longer he waited the worse it would be. If he was going to mark her, he might as well do it now. He went to the blacksmith or at least the closest thing they had to it and told him to prepare the irons. A fire was stoked just for it and the irons were placed into it. Branding a slave was not a very ceremonial thing, but despite that it was always something that many of his men enjoyed to watch. The moment word came out that Lothar had asked for the irons the camp started to become chaotic almost. People were running around, telling others, gathering kids so they could go and watch the display. Perhaps one of the big reasons why it was so anticipated now too was because Lothar had never claimed a slave for his own.
Once that was set he gathered his right hand men, Tustrund and Amastan. With the three of them they went into the tent. Wether Anja was dressed in those leathers or still remained hidden under the furs, they would not care. They grabbed her by the arms roughly and started to drag her along. “Feisty one ain’t she?” Amastan said in amusement as she fought. “I get why you want her.” Lothar just grunted at him, clearly annoyed. “It should not matter to you what I want.” He said which made Amastan’s smile cease again.
She was dragged across the camp. If she had been wearing the furs they would soon fall from her body, leaving her naked and exposed to the many eyes that were focused on her. If her feet didn’t carry her, they would simply drag her along. She didn’t need to walk at all if she could not. She was taken to an opening in the middle of the camp. Sort of a pit where there was a campfire during the night to stay warm. But that campfire had burned out, leaving a charred bit of ground behind. The only fire now was the one where the red hot irons were resting till they would need to be used. All eyes of the barbarians were on her, even slave girls had gathered to watch what
Áine had registered the sounds outside the tent becoming louder while she searched for something to wear. She found the leather skirt haphazardly discarded in a corner and put it on, tightening the straps as far as they'd go. But then the camp sounds grew louder, footsteps running past the tent, and curiosity eventually got the better of her. Abandoning her search in favor of taking a peek out the flaps, she saw a lot of activity outside.
Unfortunately for her, this was the very same moment two large men came charging through the opening, closely followed by Lothar himself. She recoiled away from them, crying out in surprise and fear as they simply grabbed her without pausing. In a blur of movements as the men dragged her outside, she caught a glimpse of Lothar's face, stern and darkened with a tense jaw.
Áine fought them, jerking her entire body backwards to have them let go of her. But their grips only grew tighter, adding stress to her shoulders until it hurt and her cries became more panicked. The fact that one of the men chuckled as he said something had her temper flare even more, and she started sputtering curses and hateful words at them in a language they couldn't possibly understand. All around them, people had gathered to watch, glimpses of faces in curious glee passed her by as they mercilessly pulled her along.
A hundred horrible conclusions filled her mind, public execution being one of them. She suddenly, very deeply and sorely regretted showing Lothar what she could do with blades and axes. Perhaps he saw her as too dangerous to keep around now. Or worse -and this was Grainne's words that came back- they planned to publicly torture her, and then execute her. The closer they got to what she would recognize as a village center, the more Áine fought them, fear of death now painfully prominent in her mind.
07:05
She didn't even have time to worry about the fact that she was only wearing their sorry excuse of a skirt. Or that people's eyes were scrutinizing every part of her exposed body. Áine only had one thought in her head and that was to fight, then flight.
The men suddenly stopped, but didn't release their hold on her. At this point Áine was almost on her knees, panting in panicked and furious breaths. She tried to turn, to stand and see what was going on. The scent of a glowing fire and warm metal entered her nostrils, all too familiar to her. She could see Lothar's legs while he walked past them, but little else.
@Nakachu
He could see the fear in the girl, but this was something that needed to be done. Had he spoken her language, perhaps he would have tried to explain her, but he did not. So instead he let her panic till she almost pulled her shoulder out of it’s own socket as he knew that even his face would not offer her consolences now.
He walked behind her and grabbed a hold of the hot iron rod that had been resting in the fire. The end of it was glowing red, the metal at the end shaped in a circle with a moon and stars in the middle. Yells and cheers came from the crowd around, everyone getting rowdy and unruly. Some even seemed to almost bark which was just because they believe that the reason Lothar would claim her was so nobody else could take her body but him. And of course they would. She was beautiful. Even through the bruises and cuts it was clear that she had a beautiful body. Everyone could see that as she was exposed to the open air.
He walked towards her, brushing her red curls away from the back of her shoulder blade. If she flinched he did not care. The grip of the men making it impossible for her to see what was about to happen and perhaps that was for the best. “Hold her steady.” He ordered. The grips that been around her upper arm now changed to hold into her shoulders, their iron grip now truly keeping her steady and unable to move even the slightest bit.
And that was when he brought that hot iron down upon her, right underneath her shoulder blade with a diameter of about 4 inches. It sizzled the moment it touched her skin. It almost melted underneath it. Yet no matter how hard she fought against the grip they would not let her go. He kept the iron on there for a good 5 seconds before he removed it. She might believe she was done, but this was no true… since she was his, there was a second one to come.
@ShadowCat
Through her frantic panting and the slow growing cheering sounds from the people watching, Áine faintly heard Lothar's voice. She tried to twist to look at him, but the men holding her changed their grips. Held tighter, tight enough to lock her in place, her heart galloped wildly in her chest. She still fought- still tried to twist, stand, kick herself up, punch and even pinch. But all it did was cause them to press her down to her knees harder. One of the men's grip hurt, holding her upper arm as well as her shoulder. It caused a strain that soon had her voice thin into a pathetic and hoarse whimper.
Her entire body jerked hard as she felt the burn below her shoulder blade, an instinctive reflex to flee. Áine was already breathless, but she still found it in her to scream. Her hoarse shriek of pain mixed into the sounds of the cheering crowd, her fight renewed but still useless. Not able to see what they were doing to her, only feel, more horrible images flooded her imagination. Torture by burning her flesh off?
Of course, not one single thought in her head made any sense in that moment, consumed by the pain as her skin melted and burned away. She could feel the pull as whatever had burned her was removed, her skin charred stuck to it and tearing. The scent of burned flesh filled her nose and her stomach was already doing unwelcome turns. But even as the glowing object was removed, a sharp and burning pain remained.
Áine had begun shaking between the hands that held her, unable to catch her breath and panicking more when they didn't release her. But the pain had stolen her strength away and she almost collapsed between them. Eyesight blurred by tears, she looked over to the crowd as they cheered. In that moment, Áine's grey eyes were barren of hate and defiance. All she felt was alone, surrounded by people who were entertaining themselves on her misery.
@Nakachu
As he pulled away the hot iron bar from her skin he could see the mark on her clearly. The skin a bright white underneath the charred bits that had been taken away by the iron. The smell of burning flesh was always unpleasant and he couldn’t help but crinkle his nose at it.
He had heard her scream and he had seen her fight. In a way he was proud of her that she was still fighting, but now the mark had been set that fight seemed to leave her. He slumped between his two right handede men, but they were not fooled and kept her steady. his eyes looked around at the crowd around them. To them it was entertainment, the claim of the leader. But to perhaps Anja’s surprise he did enjoy doing this to her. He raised a hand, willing them to quiet down and most of them did.
He dropped the iron bar he had held and now went to grab the other that was still on there. This one was smaller, but that would probably not make it hurt her less. It was made with crude lettering, not done by a professional at all. Yet the word was clear. It was his name, Lothar, written down on the iron. “Keep her steady.” He said again, wanting to make sure they held her and didn’t fuck up the marking.
The steel came down once more, this one pressed below the one that already been made. Once more he held it on her for five seconds before he pulled it away and dropped it to the floor. He grabbed for a bucket of cold water that had been brought from the river and dunked in on top of her, it was supposed to help a burn. He dunked a second one of her as well. “Release her.” He said, wanting to give her some space if he could. Yet if she tried to run away or flee, he would grab a hold of her himself.
@ShadowCat
She barely registered the crowd quieting down. Not at first. Too preoccupied with the pain burning from her shoulder, Áine was still trying to catch her breaths. She wasn't screaming or crying anymore, just shaking hard with every inhale and exhale. The fact that the men didn't let go of her told her more was to come.
It was only when she heard another piece of iron being shifted out of coals and Lothar's calm voice uttering a command, that Áine noticed how quiet the crowd had gone. They were still watching with gleeful anticipation, she could see that much.
The second burn had her shriek again. This time her hoarse voice was the only one filling the village center. It echoed between the forest trees, off the mountain side, coming back to her sounding just as petrified and alone as she felt. But that was all they got from her; one lengthy and weakened shriek. Again the stench of burned flesh filled her nose and she almost vomited on the spot. The glowing iron pulled at her skin as it was removed, leaving behind another burning wound that would continue to eat into her flesh for some time.
Suddenly cold water splashed onto her from behind, making her gasp loudly in shock at the unextended change. Then another. It soothed the burns, but only just. Lothar spoke again, his voice eerily void of emotion, and the men dropped her from their grips and stepped away from her.
10:25
Áine fell forward, catching herself on her hands and knees, her arms and shoulders sore and aching from the fighting. She sat on her knees, curled into herself and leaned her upper body forward. Her hair fell protectively around her torso and hid her from the peering eyes gawking at her. Her entire body shook, one hand raising to her shoulder and above it, wanting to inspect the wounds but fearful of what she'd find. She slowly lowered it again, her other hand grasped into the dirt below for support.
She didn't try to run. There were too many people around the circle, and she had little fight left in her anyway. But she didn't stand either, or look at anyone in particular. All she wanted was a safe place to hide away and lick her wounds. A place to recover her strength.
@Nakachu
He watched her fall down into the dirt and would continue to watch her as that hand came up to her shoulder shakily. The wound was stark white, the skin raw especially after the water had attempted to cool it down. He let her have a minute to herself before his eyes went around the crowd and noticing how everyone was watching for her reaction. He groaned and then moved forward.
He wrapped his arms around her, being careful to avoid the wound and if she let him he would carry her away in a gentle manner. If she did fight him he would make his grip more rough to make sure she didn’t fall, but still avoided the burning wound.
He walked her back to the tent and entered, placing her down on the bed with furs. He looked down at her with regret in his eyes, yet it had needed to be done. Those were their ways and those were their rules. She might hate him for it now, but perhaps one day she would appreciate it.
One of the eyes that had been watching the display in the middle of the camp was Grainne. The moment that metal touching Anja’s skin she had found herself out of breath. She remembered that burn.. remembered the intense pain. Even if it had been overruled by the carving out of her eyes, she still knew how bad it was. Each time a new slave was branded she could still feel the ache in her own shoulder.
So when Lothar picked her up and started to walk her away Grainne sprinted off as well. She ran off to her own secret stash that she had hidden somewhere along the outside of the camp, digging in the dirt till she found what she was looking for. A small tin canister. She tugged it away in her leathers and then made her way to the tent. She barged in, there was nobody at the entrance in that moment since they were still cleaning up in the square.
Lothar’s eyes would find Grainne’s one eye the moment she stepped into the tent. His mood changing and becoming intense angry in a single second. “You dare show you face here uninvited?!” He yelled at her as he stepped towards her. Grainne would dance back slightly but then kept steady with determination. “She needs someone who understands what she just went through!” She shouted back at him. Lothar’s hand would reach towards her and grab a hold at the leathers around her chest, hoisting her inside the air. “And why do you believe she needs you?” He asked through gritted teeth. Grainne groaned from the pressure of hanging in the air by her clothes, but she still held steady. “I know her language. I am her age. I am a slave.” She said to him before taking a big breath. “You are the brute who killed her family.”
Of course it had not been the smartest thing to say and in one motion he tossed her through the air. She landed hard against the ground, her back partially against the upstep that the furs rested on. She cried out loudly before she went a bit limp to recover from it. “She better be fine by the time I come back.” He then said and with that he left the tent.
She would stay down for a moment more, feeling the sting in her back. She hit that plateau hard, Lothar was strong after all. But she did get through to him. After a moment she attempted to get up and the moment she did she climbed into those furs to Anja and gathered her in her arms. She switched to the language Anja understood and started to sooth her. “It’s okay.. it’s okay.. You are fine.” She said as she cradled her and moved her back and forth, petting her hair. “It will stop hurting, I promise, it will stop.”
@ShadowCat
Áine heard the heavy footsteps approach and immediately tried to crawl away from them, fearing there was more torture to come. Resisting the arms as they wrapped around her, she didn’t realize at first that it was Lothar. It wasn’t until he began carrying her away from the crowd that Áine stilled and stopped fighting. She still shook violently, her teeth practically rattling in her mouth. Her breaths were deep, but panicked and heavy with what she had just been through.
Once inside his tent and back on the bed, Áine turned to face him and scooted as far away from him as she could get. Her grey eyes were red with tears, wide with the fear and rage of a creature expecting to be hurt by its master. Too far gone in her own misery, she wasn’t able to read the regret in his eyes. All she saw was his large looming frame and hands that formed fists as his sides. Her body was tense and shaking with the need to be as far away from him as possible. She would have fled the bed and crawled into a corner if they hadn’t been so roughly interrupted by Grainne’s tall figure practically rushing into the tent.
Áine stilled completely on the bed and stared at the two of them. She didn’t understand their words, but it was clear they weren’t happy with each other. When Lothar lifted the tall woman off the floor and hurled her through the air, she pressed herself as far away from the two of them as she could, certain she would be witnessing a murder.
21:42
It came as a surprise, then, that Lothar didn’t charge at them, instead fleeing the tent himself. Áine wasn’t sure what to think when Grainne suddenly cradled her, trying to offer comfort. Everything hurt. Two days’ worth of bruises and scratches, her feet hurt. Her arms hurt from those men holding her. Her back still felt like it was on fire. But most of all, her chest hurt with how absolutely alone she felt. Grainne’s comfort helped somewhat, and Áine soon found herself clutching the other woman hard as if she was drowning, desperately needing to connect with someone who wasn’t hellbent on hurting her.
“W-… Y-you s-said to please him… To t-take care of h-him,” she stuttered as Grainne held her tight. Her voice was hoarse and breaking apart. “I-I thought I did.” She paused, heaving for her breaths in between vicious shakes. “Why am I being punished?!” It was just then she fully realized exactly how frightening that ordeal had been. All the horrible scenarios that had tormented her imagination while they held her down and brutally burned her back. She took a deep and panicked inhale, only to erupt in cries that threatened to tear her apart. “Why…”
@Nakachu
Grainne tried to shush her as best as he could. Rocking her back and forth like she was a child in her mother’s arms. She rubbed over the lower end of her back, making sure to avoid the place where it was sore from the burn. “I know you don’t believe this.. but he wasn’t punishing you.” She said quickly. She pulled away a bit and then took a hold of her face. It was gentle, yet forceful enough to make her loo at her. “He was claiming you Anja.” She spoke to her with a determination in her voice. “With his mark on your back, nobody can touch you, nobody can torture you, nobody can hurt you. Nobody except for Lothar.” She tried to explain. “Whatever it is you did last night with him, you did good.” She said before she grasped into her again for a short moment. “You did good..”
She held her for a while longer. Grainne hated that she had been chosen, but at the same time she could not let the girl suffer on her own. She might be selfish, but she was not gruel. She knew the pain she was going trough, how unsure she felt.
Only then did she let her go. “Let me help you.” She said and she reached for the twin canister in her pocket. She opened the lid and there was a fatty and creamy substance inside that was green in color. “This won’t feel good at first, but it will help soon.” She said. And if Anja let her she would apply the cream as gently as she could to the burn. The mixture had herbs in it, including mint and aloe. It would feel painful at first, but the moment the sting went away she would feel the cooling effect of it, taking away the sharp burn on the wound.
@ShadowCat
Áine stilled a little, frowning at the woman’s words. His mark? Her hand rose again to over her shoulder, wanting so bad to inspect the wounds but still fearful of what she would find and how bad they hurt. To her, it felt like the entire side of her back was on fire, every movement burning and stinging around the edges of the singed flesh. She hissed as soon as her shaking fingertips just barely brushed above the wound. “How bad is it?” she eventually forced herself to ask, hiding her face a little into the furs on the bed lap.
The scent of the thick and creamy substance Grainne had brought met her nostrils, slightly minty and strong. It reminded Áine of an herbal tea her grandmother used to make. Not unpleasant. Áine gave her a simple nod when she asked to apply the cream. It couldn’t get worse. If it did, she’d get an infection and die. Which at this point didn’t seem like such a bad option. It would certainly be a far more gentle way to go than anything these brutes would do to her.
Áine’s self-preservation and will to live had never been this damaged before. Not even while witnessing her own family’s slaughter. But this… hearing she’d been tortured for the sake of being claimed in such a brutal fashion. This did things to her mind. If Lothar had wished to claim her for himself, why would he hurt her? It didn’t make sense, and just the idea of it felt wrong and unfair. Why would he claim her if he wished to mistreat her?
The very second she felt Grainne’s fingers touch her wounds, she flinched and began shaking again. Thankfully her fingers were greased enough in that creamy substance to not actually rub against her skin, but every touch hurt. Hissing in pain, she put one of the bedfurs between her teeth to mute the sounds coming from her.
@Nakachu
She tried to touch it as little as she could, her fingers working quickly to coat the whole thing. The lines of it were sharp, the mark actually having been made beautifully. They must have really kept her still. Especially Lothar’s name was thick and very readable. She pulled back again and locked the tin canister back on. She went back to rubbing her lower back then. “I am done.” She said.
After she recovered from the pain that Grainne had caused on her back she sighed deeply and then turned around. She removed the leather she was wearing from her shoulder blade and turned her back to it. “This is what they did to you.” She said then, showing her the branding on her shoulder. The 4 inch circle with the moon and stars on it. “Yours has his name under it, because he is the leader. But this is what most of it looks like. You can touch it. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
If she did touch it she would feel the ridges in the skin. It was as if each bit of skin where the iron had touched had shrunk together and embedded in the skin. It was more rough and thick feeling then the supple skin that was between it. “It will heal and he won’t do it again. Behave and that is the worst that will happen to you. Don’t… and you might lose an eye yourself.”
@ShadowCat
It took many seconds, even minutes, before Áine was able to stop shaking and remove the furs she’d bitten down on. She breathes deep and slow, feeling the sting and burn on her back slowly ebb a little away. Not much, but enough to be tolerable. Seeing Grainne remove her leathers, she looks at the moon scar with sadness on her face.
Áine had seen the brandings, but she hadn’t made the connection that this is what they’d done to her. Her fingers gently ran around the edges of the scar on Grainne’s back while a deep and painful desperation burrowed itself into the pit of her stomach. The brand mark was large enough that if one tried to cut it away, it would be…. Horribly painful. Perhaps even fatal if it got infected. She was certain the size wasn’t a coincidence, ensuring that branded slaves would be too frightened to try and have it removed. If they got away.
“Has anyone ever been able to escape?” she asks, lowering her hand from Grainne’s back. Her own wound still hurt, but the salve cooled it down somewhat. It would take weeks to heal, she knew that much.
@Nakachu
She would turn back to Anja as she asked the question if anyone had escaped. She found her eyes and saw slight determination that was still so deep inside of the fiery girl. She took a deep breath. “Since I have been here? Maybe one or two.” She said, but she very quickly started to add. “But that is from a hundred of them.. if not more. And the ones that are caught and brought back? I have seen them tied to a pole to starve or die from thirst. Some with a cut down their chest just shallow enough to survive for agonizing hours. Tongue’s cut out..” she stopped then, averting her eyes. “They do cruel things to those who run. Agonizing deaths. You don’t want that.” She spoke then.
“Besides, you are marked now. Your changes of escaping and staying away are even slimmer.. One wrong person recognize that mark and you are doomed to be back here and it won’t be a nice stay.” She warned her as well. “Give it up Anja..” she said with a deep sigh. “Appreciate your place here.. be good to Lothar and your life here will be more then bearable.”
@ShadowCat
Listening to the woman, Áine sank a little down into the furs on the bed. The words were not encouraging. Not even the slightest. She still shook every now and then, a rush of chills that would rake through her body. Likely because her body was trying to cool down the burn wounds, lowering her temperature.
“How can I behave when half the time I don’t even understand what he wants from me? He speaks, but he doesn’t always make it clear what his intentions are. I’m clueless. I keep guessing. I ‘m left at trying on my own, but so far, I’m not making things better…” her voice trailed off, needing a moment to catch her breath. The horrors of the branding far too stark and fresh in her mind.
“I need to learn how to understand. You know the knife? It wasn’t to harm him I sharpened it. It was to show that I can be useful in other ways. My father was a renowned blacksmith, he took orders from villages nearby. He taught me his art. I know my strengths and washing clothes in a cold river is not one of them.”
“…neither is being forced onto my back on this bed.”
@Nakachu
"You will learn their language. It is not hard. I can help you with that." She said. She pulled her leathers back up on her shoulder, clothing herself again. She took the tin can and placed it in Anja's hand. "Apply twice a day. Generously." She said. "And don't waste it. It ain't easy to make and you won't be the last needing it." She spoke. It seemed clear that Anja wasn't the first person to be helped out by Grainne. "And he will.."
She was silenced by Lothar suddenly walking it. The flap of the tent moving aside. His face was serious, his arm filled with weapons that looked beaten and blunt. There were daggers, swords and axes. Not all were for fighting. Some were for skinning or chopping instead.
"Get out." She spoke to Grainne who instantly got up from the bed, yet she did not move to go out. "It seems maybe he does understand you." she spoke in Anja's language. It seemed to only piss of Lothar more. "Are you deaf girl?!" He shouted at her as he emptied his arm into the table and got the whetstone back on the table as well. "I can help." She spoke then to Lothar. He just scoffed. "I don't need your help." He almost hissed at her. "I can translate." Grainne tried again.
Lothar walked up to her. Towering over even her even if she was quite tall. "You must really be deaf..." he spoke over her, his powerful body on edge in front of her. It seemed this day had made him hot headed as well.
@ShadowCat
Áine took the tin box, muttering a grateful “thank you”.
When Lothar stormed in with an armful of weapons, Áine at first kicked herself at the far back of the bed, her anxiety immediately perking back up. But it slowly lowered again when she saw what he was doing and Grainne’s comment.
However, for someone who spoke in depth about these men’s brutality and admonished compliance, she was surprisingly disobedient. While Áine didn’t understand their heated conversation, she did understand that Grainne more than likely had overstayed her welcome. Seeing Lothar tower over the tall woman with a stormy expression, her mind slowed. She saw the large hands at his sides clench into fists, how the veins in his arms bulged with increased fury, the promise of violence in his eyes.
“NO!” Áine said firmly in his language and instantly rushed from the bed, placing herself between the two of them, facing Lothar. She was shaking, but her eyes steadily met his with determination. “No…” she repeated, softer this time, trying and hoping to ease that temper a little. Grainne had said she could help with the language. She had already helped with her wounds. Áine would not witness the woman beaten to a pulp for it.
Her hand rose, shaking just as bad as the rest of her body, slowly moving towards him as if approaching a wild and dangerous animal. Her grey eyes kept meeting his gaze, even if every nerve in her body was expecting she'd soon take a fist to the face.
@Nakachu(edited)
As Aine suddenly got up and yelled at him, both him and Grainne took a surprised step back from her. Her accent was thick of her own language, but the word was clear. No. The word he had used with her the most. His eyes did say sharp, but perhaps his body relaxed just a small bit. But what he noticed the most was her intense shaking. He took a deep breath as he looked down at her.
Grainne in the mean time was standing still, her eye shifting between Lothar and Anja, trying to figure out what would happen next. The reason she was been so adament about it was perhaps not for the reason that Anja expected. She had kept it no secret that Anja’s position had been what she had wanted and at some point that obsession had brought her the wrong choices. Lothar and her had not always seen eye to eye. If she had not been claiming by Tortrund she would likely not be alive anymore. She needed a way to get in his good graces again.
In the end Lothar finally spoke, his eyes never leaving Anja. “Tell her I want those weapons sharpened..” he said, his voice gruff an deep. ”He needs you to work on those knives and things on the table.” Grainne translated for her. Only then did his eyes go to Grainne. “I do not trust you girl..” he spoke to her, the tension coming back in his body a bit. “If I ever notice you twisting my words to her, to use this to your advantage, even Tortrund won’t be able to save you. Remember that.” He warned her.
@ShadowCat
When she saw Lothar take a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as he looked down at her, Áine visibly relaxed a little bit as well. Her grey eyes were still very much focused on his, searching for any signs of hostility or sudden movement. She kept holding it even when he spoke, hearing Grainne’s translation behind her.
One of Áine’s eyebrows raised at the woman’s choice of words. Knives and things? She almost rolled her eyes, but held herself in check. When Lothar finally took his eyes off her and spoke to Grainne over Áine's head, a slow, silent exhale rushed over her lips. He still looked angry, stern and very much as if he would slap her around without batting an eye. But at least he was speaking and not attacking.
“I think you should go, Grainne,” she then said, her voice low and soft, still watching Lothar. “I apparently have work to do.” Before he kicks you out face first, she almost added, but again held herself in check. “Please… tell him I need you so I can learn how to speak with him.”
She waited for Grainne to translate, attentively watching Lothar's face for how he would react. It wasn't lost on her that Grainne must have done something to royally piss him off at some point. Something that made him sneer akin to hatred every time he saw her now. Mentally she put that information away for later. Right now, she had more pressing matters at hand.
@Nakachu
She still stayed her ground, not wanting to back down even with the bulking male before her. He could hurt her, easily.. but this was her shot to get back on his good side and she was not going to miss that. It was only when Anja spoke that she moved her eyes to her instead. She was about to say something about being kicked out when Anja asked her to translate. She took a deep breath and spoke to Lothar. “She wants to tell you that she needs me to learn the language, so she can talk to you better.” She spoke.
Lothar’s eyes stayed on hers and he took a deep breath once more as she had spoken. “We shall see.” He simply said, still not trusting the girl before him with one eye. “I will take my leave.” Grainne spoke then and got out quickly. Lothar’s eyes followed her and only when that tent flap closed did his shoulders seem to relax. He breathed out once more before he walked over to the side of the tent and grabbed a jug from there, bringing it to his lips and drinking deep.
He pointed to the bench with the weapons. “Work.” He spoke, still deciding to stick to short and sweet words. It worked with the word no. She had obviously grasped the meaning of that one. Perhaps she could learn more this way. He himself fat down at the edge of the furs, the jug in his hands.
@ShadowCat
She watched Grainne leave, seeing how Lothar had his eyes fixated on her like a hawk watching a mouse until she had left the tent. Once the tall woman had vanished, the tent suddenly felt smaller with only her and Lothar in it. Áine moved from her position to create some distance between them, relieved that he wasn’t trying to crowd her but instead busied himself with a drink.
Approaching the table with the many weapons and knives, she began sorting them, laying them out in smaller piles on the floor of the tent to get a better overview of what she was dealing with. Axes, swords, daggers, and smaller knives. Plenty of them. She was still shaking slightly, but less of fear now and more because of the cold chills running down her spine every now and then. Her wounds still burned, ached, and throbbed. But laying down and feeling sorry for herself would get her nowhere. Especially now that Lothar had caught on and provided her with something she could actually do.
With a sigh, she looked at the one and only whetstone on the table before turning to the man who’d sat himself on the furs. Even when sitting, his shape loomed in the space of the tent
She pointed to the water jug in his hand, and then to the whetstone. “Teastaíonn uisce uaim.I need water” She didn’t expect him to understand, but he himself had dunked the whetstone in water the night prior. He had to know what she meant. Walking a little closer, she pointed to the jug again and then back to the stone. “Uisce…Water.”
@Nakachu
He would watch her as she walked towards him. His eyes following her as she walked closer. He look in everything about her. He sat up a bit straighter as she did, but once she talked he just raised his eyebrow. He had no clue what she was saying. Even when she pointed to the jug in his hand he didn’t fully get it. “You want a drink?” He asked her. It was not water what was in the jug, it was ale. He would move it towards Anja, but she would soon discover just that fact and it didn’t seem that was what she wanted.
He looked back towards the table where she had sorted everything out and then saw the whetstone. He moved his head up like he suddenly realized what she was asking and he would get up from the spot and move to a corner where there was a bucket with water. He placed it down beside the table before going back to the spot he had been and once more bringing the jug to his lips and drinking deep. Granted, it would take a lot for a guy his size to get drunk, but at the rate he was drinking, surely there was a chance he would get there soon enough.
@ShadowCat
After Lothar had fetched the bucket and set it down by the table, Áine didn’t waste words or energy on trying to communicate with him. She circled his frame, unwilling to get close, and began working on the weapons spread out in front of her. Methodically, she started with the most damaged ones in each pile. She held the weapons still on the table and used the whetstone in her hand. The only time she would shift was when she began working on the knives and daggers.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she was about halfway. It was tedious, but still satisfying. To watch the dented and banged metal gleam and straighten with renewed sharpness had always been satisfying. Áine enjoyed work where progress was immediate and visible. Most of the time she stood so she had Lothar in her peripheral vision, aware of his presence and that he was watching her. But as time passed and she allowed herself to be immersed in the work, she almost forgot about him being there.
Sweat had begun trickling down her forehead and neck, her wound throbbed and burned fiercer and felt like it was swelling up. The skin felt like it was too tight on her shoulder blade, and every movement of her arms hurt. She paused her work, leaning her palms on the table while she made a grimace to try and concentrate. Then, as soon as a drop of sweat made its way down her back and trailed towards the burnt wounds, she hissed as she felt the salty body fluid touch the sore skin.
With the bucket still half full on the floor, she crouched to dip both hands into it and cupped them. Drinking a few mouthfuls before she splashed the rest onto her shoulder, a shudder ran through her. Her grey eyes moved over to the fur bed, remembering the tin box with Grainne’s ointment. Lothar could be sitting on it for all she knew, and she stood to look for it.
@Nakachu
The whole time he was looking at her with a strange intensity. He found he liked to watch her work. The way she got lost in it and nothing else seemed to matter. The precise movements of her hands and the intense look of concentration on her face. Eventually he didn’t even seem to matter to her anymore. He kept drinking, the jug soon empty and tossed into the ground. He removed his shirt, the alcohol warming him enough that he didn’t need nor want it anymore. His chest would expand and fall as he leaned back into the furs, his eyes still only on her.
It was only when she turned around and her eyes found his that he paid more attention again. She walked towards him, even if he did not seem to be the goal of her coming towards him. He leaned back a bit more, his shoulder length hair falling back over his shoulders as he leaned into his arms.
It was only when she came close enough that he reached out towards her and pulled her towards him. Even if perhaps he was using his strength to get her to him, he was not being intensionally rough. His hand came around her waist almost lovingly as he tugged her towards him. One hand moved to the skirt that was around her knees and moved it up to feel into her thigh while the other travelled up her back. He pulled her towards him, bringing his mouth to her sweat coated neck and kissing into it. “Anja..”
@ShadowCat
She tried to hold back when Lothar pulled her to him, a sudden jolt of fear rushing up her spine. His hands roaming her form, she gasped in pain as one of those rough hands travelled up her back and close to the burn wounds. He would have to feel how warm and clammy she was, how burning hot her skin around the mark was. But if he cared was another matter entirely. His deep voice speaking her name sent a new jolt of something different into her, but nevertheless, he wasn’t the purpose for her coming over to the bed.
“No…” she tried saying in his language, daring to lean over him in search for the tin box. She put one small hand on his chest in a preventing manner while her eyes searched the furs. When she found the tin box, discarded in the further corner of the bed, she moved to grab it and straightened herself away from him.
Showing it to Lothar, she opened it and gestured to her shoulder. Her eyes begging him to understand that she was in pain, and this helped. If he was to try and grope and grab her instead, she would repeat the word “No” more steadily.
@Nakachu
He did not seem to care to much about her saying no to him. She only seemed to lean into him further even if that hand was against his chest. He kissed into her neck more, his hand coming into her red curls but not quite pulling at it, the other that was on those thighs traveling further up as it pulled the skirt along with it. He was intoxicated by the ale he drank and it seemed that this was the affect that it had on him.
As she pulled back with the tin his eyes jus went to it and then back up to her. The minty smell of it infiltrated his nose and he couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose. As she gestured to her shoulder he could make out that it was for the wound he had caused. He took the tin and grabbed into her waist to turn her around. His fingers dug into the substance and he applied it to the wound on her back. He might not be as gentle as Grainne had been, but he wasn’t particulairly rough either. In the very least, he was trying to help her.
@ShadowCat
When Lothar turned her on the bed, she pulled her hair away to let him apply the substance to her wound. It wasn’t what she’d had in mind, but at least he wasn’t groping or grabbing her. His thick and rough fingers were far less gentle about it than Grainne, every touch and prod against the painful skin making her shudder and grimace. She couldn’t stop the cold shivers, or the hot flashes that had her sweat. Looking down into the tin, she saw he’d taken a good chunk of it, traces of his fingers still present in the substance.
After Lothar was done, Áine closed the box and put it away. The substance was already cooling down the wound a bit, soothing the feverish feeling of it. She was still sitting with her back to him, feeling one of his arms locked around her waist. His warm, massive chest was leaning into her a little and the contrast between their body temperatures could not have been more apparent.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself while her hand moved down to his arm around her narrow waist. Her smaller hand grasped for his wrist in a gentle attempt at removing it. Her head turned to the side to look at him over her shoulder. She wasn’t done with her work. Only halfway. But she was also tired and hungry, and in pain. His breath smelled of the ale he’d drunk and she wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She could tell by the way his eyes was little heavy lidded that the alcohol had gotten to him.
@Nakachu
She was still so small compared to him, sitting in front of him between his legs. His arm was wrapped around her waist and kept her close to him. After he applied the creme he rubbed his hand against the leather of his pants. As she turned to the side to look at him he caught a hold of her face and kept it there. His eyes stared into her, trying to find what was going on in them.
Yet at the same time he could only see the Anja that had been with him the night before. The one that explored his body, that had wrapped her hands and mouth around his manhood, the one that had moaned out in that tent as he took her in those furs. The alcohol in his system did not prevent him from hardening underneath her and it made him only grab into her tighter, pulling her against him more.
He brought his lips against her again, forcing his way inside the way he had done that first night, exploring her mouth as he started to turn her body into him. If she did complain he did not give it the time of day. She had become his more then any slave had done before her and more then ever he felt that he could take what he wanted from her.
@ShadowCat
His large hand under her chin held her uncomfortably tight while he looked at her. Áine froze, solidly staring back up at his green eyes while he seemed to study hers. Unsure of what to think of it, how to respond, she just sat there and stared back at him.
But then he pulled her tighter, his lips crushing down on her own. For a second, the smell of ale on his breath had her try to pull away. His tongue forcing its way past her lips was thick and hot, invading her mouth and preventing her from speaking. Áine held back when he shifted her, moving her to face him. Her own strength insufficient in trying to stop it. It was like he was ignoring the fact that she even tried, undeterred or unbothered by her resistance.
Why would he care. He knew his strength and her lack of it. Áine also understood that branding her had officially made her his property. As if he didn’t have control over her before, he had to brand her to seal the deal. But what kind of deal. She was born a free woman and not a slave. She hadn’t agreed to this at all. But she’d promised herself to at least try to make the best out of a horrible situation. Somewhat inspired by Grainne’s words, but mostly driven by her own self-preservation.
Nevertheless, she said “No…”
The word fell from her lips like a plea, even if she hadn’t learned the tones and flows of his language, it still was. She held back, not ready to be treated like some piece of meat he could do anything he wanted to. Not ready to give up on her freedom to choose when and how they had this interaction. The night before was still a small victory, in her mind. He’d let her choose, let her explore and find her own way to him. He’d let her set the pace, so she was ready when he took her.
Fully turned to him, she pulled her head away from his kiss and managed to break it off. Sweating and shaking, still in pain and not willing to be in any more pain, Áine pushed herself away from him. “No.”
@Nakachu
She was perhaps convinced that she could somehow gain control back over what was happening, but at the same time Lothar was not in a head space to be rejected. He was the leader of his clan, he got what he wanted, when he wanted it. Especially a claimed slave had no reason to tell him no.
So the moment that word left her mouth his eyebrows would grow more stern. He pressed his mouth into her again, his hands groping at her skin perhaps even a bit more roughly, finding her breast and claiming it in his rough big hands. Her small body still no match for the pure brute strength that he posessed.
When she broke from his lips again and the word no once more he got visibly agitated. He grabbed for her hand and pressed it against his bulge as he held her eyes. A clear sign that ‘no’ was not an option here and he was not going to back down from her. “You are mine.” He said to her. “I decide how I use you, not you.” He reminded her even if she could not understand him.
@ShadowCat
Of course, she didn’t understand the words, but she did see the increasingly disapproval on his face, his agitation and sternness. She could hear how his voice had grown deeper and sharper. Despite seeing all this, Áine still yanked her hand back from his crotch and the very visible and tangible bulge in it. Feeling trapped and out of options, his agitation rubs off on her.
He could force her. She already knew how unpleasant that was. How much that would hurt, as compared to when she was ready. There was no way she could fight him off if he chose to go that path to get what he wanted, and Áine was sharply aware of that fact, it made her shake just a little harder. Her eyes avert his gaze, not wiling to meet it and be reminded all over again.
“Níl mé ag iarraidhI don’t want to.” She shook her head, staring elsewhere than at him. His large and muscular body felt like a cage. Open at the moment, but with a door that could close on her at any moment. And if it did, it would only have one outcome.
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment in silent desperation. When she opens them, she turns more fully to him and puts her hand on his chest. Not to push him away, she already knew that would not work. But gentle and caressing, trying to ease some of that agitation out of him. Her grey eyes kept averting his gaze, flitting about his muscular chest instead. Slowly, she began untying the straps on her hips, loosening them, and eventually removing the entire skirt. She threw it on the floor and returned her hands to his body.
@Nakachu
Her unwillingness to submit to him was starting to get on his nerves. The struggling against him, the turning of her face. The shaking of her body, the defiantness of even touching him. He was starting to get agitated and the alcohol probably did not help much in the manner of his temper.
Those eyebrows knitten together more and more. The gentleness he had showed with her last night no longer there. He had branded her and now she decided to be defiant? She spoke again and it only annoyed him more. Not able to understand her. He had been about to just grab her and force her into the fur and trap her underneath him when those eyes suddenly opened again and caught him.
He held back a little as she put her hand on his chest. As she started to rub over it the tention seemed to lighter a bit. By no means was the anger out of him, but in the very least she had mamaged to calm down that wish to take her by force. His eyes followed her hands as they loosened the skirt and threw it into her floor. He brought his hands to her hips and pulled her closer in against him, but after that those hands seemed to relax against her hips again. His eyes watching her with agitated curiosity, waiting to see what she die next.
Áine shifted, moving so she could straddle his lap. He was still holding her hips, looking intensely up at her. But she was still not willing to meet that green gaze. Instead, she moved her head to his shoulder, kissing the skin there, giving it small bites and nibbles. Her skin was sweaty, cold, but feverishly hot around the wounds on her back. She still shook, every now and then a cold shudder would rush through her.
She didn’t want this. Most of all she wanted to cry. To be left alone and just cry. But she’d already learned that if she fought him, he’d just make it worse. Hurt her worse, possibly even make a point out of hurting her so she’d learn…
The discrepancy between her feelings and actions were so stark, she almost collapsed into sobs anyways. Biting a little harder into the flesh of his shoulder, she stilled it and took deep breaths to try and calm herself. It somehow hurt to act so directly opposite of what she wanted. A pain and beaten grief that dug itself deep into her. It wasn’t about the loss of her family anymore. The loss of her freedom. This was about the loss of her identity, no longer Áine Conall but just a slave who’s name he couldn’t even pronounce properly.
To hide her face from him, she hugged herself closer to him. At least the warmth from his chest warmed her up too. One small thing that wasn’t entirely negative. Her bare breasts pressed up against his chest, feeling how much harder his body was than hers. Her lips began trailing kisses and nibbles towards his neck, in a wild moment considering if she could rip out his veins with her teeth.
01:25
But Grainne’s words hung over her head, about torture and worse. That the only person she’d need to watch out for from now was Lothar himself. Only him. Which meant not killing him but finding ways to appease him so he at least would not mistreat her. From the sounds she’d heard outside the tent, from what she had seen, a slave to them was just an object to beat and rape. Not a person.
She leaned more of her weight into him, hoping to make him lean back on the bed.
@Nakachu
He did notice she seemed to be odd that time, but with the ale in his system and his arousal hard he simply did not care about it to much in that moment. Within his world sex was something that a male owned. Woman didn’t get much of a choice when they wanted to be taken, if the male wished to you simply laid down and took it. Wether sick, pregnant or otherwise imposed, it did not matter to them much.
But at least the temper that he had started to show towards her was stopping. He closed his eyes as those teeth started to nip at his skin. Her chest pressed close against his skin and her nipples already hard from the feverish shaking that she was experiencing. Slowly his breathing was starting to quicken and the bulge in his loins was starting to puls underneath her. Those hands on her hips gripping into her and pressing her into him from time to time, wishing to feel the warmth that existed in between her legs.
As she pressed into him to lay down he obeyed. He let his massive body rest against the furs and would push the both of them up just a small bit so his feet were on there to. His eyes opened again to find her, trying to see if she would look at him this time. If she did not he would reach out and try and get her chin so he could make her look at him. He wanted to see her eyes. The idea of her now sitting on top of him like that only making him more determined to take her.
@ShadowCat
When Lothar obliged to her push and laid down, Áine moved off him to pull his pants open. She still wouldn’t look at him and any attempts to grab her chin she deflected by redirecting it to her body somewhere. Anywhere. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep her face neutral if he looked her in the eyes.
Her small hands worked the leather at his waist, pulling his pants open and down a bit. His large member immediately sprang lose from the confinement and she wasted to time to wrap her hands around it, one hand firm at the base and the other stroking it slowly. She would have lowered herself on him right away if it wasn’t for the fact that she wasn’t ready. I would hurt. He would know she was faking it. The desire she’d felt the evening before was non existing and all she felt in that moment was desperation and hurt.
Debating it for a many seconds while she stroked his member until it was throbbing and hard, the veins protruding from the skin almost angrily, Áine eventually lowered her head and took him in her mouth. She was generous with her saliva, her tongue slowly swirling around the head of his member to entice him more. The deeper she took him in her mouth, the more she made sure to leave a good amount of moisture behind. Her own body would thank her for it later.
@Nakachu
He did give her a bit more space as she started to pull at his pants. He moved his hips up easily to give her the space she needed and as his manhood sprang free he would watch with curiosity to see what she did next. At first it was just those warm hands rubbing over him, but then she bend down once more and brought her mouth around him.
He could not help the deep groan and the tensing of his abs as she did. His hands came to gather her red curls and keep them grasped on top of her head. His eyes watching with intensity as his length disappeared in her mouth and then came back our covered in a shiny layer of her saliva. He put no pressure on that grip yet.
However the more she went the more his hips started to involuntarily move along with her. Pushing himself deeper in the confined of her mouth. He got lost in the heat and wetness of it. Groaning anytime his tip found the tight entrance of her throat. But even if he was squirming and groaning underneath her he seemed alright with letting her take the lead then. More then alright, he was watching her with intense lust.
@ShadowCat
His hands in her hair were an ever-present threat that he could force her at any given time. Very gently she tried to remove one, trying to direct it to other parts of her body. She’d rather have him grope her than force her head down on him. Something she imagined would have to be equally painful as being taken by force. At this point she was ready to do just about anything to avoid any kind of force from him, evident by the fact that she was using her mouth to please him.
She took the slow movements of his hips as encouragement, pulling herself down on him a little deeper. With no training on how to control her gag reflexes, she stopped right before that point. But she also found she could take more of him if she flattened her tongue along his length. Altering between suction, using her tongue around his tip, and taking him as deep as she could, Áine found a rhythm to work in that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
The grunts and moans slipping freely from his was even more encouraging, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she could get him off like this and avoid being used altogether. The idea spurred her to be more firm and assertive in her movements, experimentally trying to find what pleased him the most so she could get it over with quickly.
@Nakachu
Slowly but surely he would start to give away the secrets of his pleasure to her. She would find him twitching inside her mouth everytime the tip of her tongue connectes to the bit where his head and shaft connected. That he would groan everytime he hit the back of her throat and that his abd would tighter as she sucked on him firmly.
He got so lost in her movements that she did manage to pry his hands free from her hair, watching it tumble down one side of her face so he could still watch her. They landed on her shoulder and went down to find her chest, rubbing his fingers over her hardened nipples.
Eventually he just laid his head back all together and groaned into the air as she worked on him. His hands falling away from her and only playing with the very end of her curls as his hips still moved into her.
It was only when he got close that he suddenly grabbed into her hair again. He kept her head in place as he moved his member into her mouth more, thrusting into her, though he didn't go deeper then she had been taking him. He groaned loudly till eventually he found his release inside her mouth, not allowing her to pull back. He unloaded in her, his hips still pulsing slightly from the intensity before he collapsed in the furs and let her go.
@ShadowCat
She could tell he was getting closer by the way his member swelled in her mouth and his balls began hugging themselves tight up into his body. Áine didn’t stop or slow down, wanting him to finish and determined to have it happen. It didn’t pass her unnoticed that her forgot to restrict her, forgot to even touch her the closer to his release he was. It was a sentiment she could relate to, as she herself had forgotten time and place last night when she was enjoying it.
When he grabbed her head and began thrusting on his own, she stilled and tried to just breathe, soon taking the thick bursts of cum into her mouth. Some of it made it down her throat, some collected in her mouth and dripped back down the length of his member. It was messy, not pretty, but it also wasn’t painful.
After Lothar had emptied himself and relaxed fully again, Áine pulled her mouth off him and discreetly wiped it with the back of her hand. She shifted and moved off the bed to get a drink of water, keeping an eye on his relaxed form on the furs. It had worked. He hadn’t forced himself on her, hadn’t even been inside her. Only her mouth. And still he seemed relaxed and pleased. His eyebrows weren’t holding that angered scowl, his muscles weren’t tense, his hands were not clenched into fists.
She took many big mouthfuls of water, rinsing out the taste and lingering hot cum in her mouth. Her stomach growled in hunger. She hadn’t eaten all day. But she had no appetite, in too much pain and too emotionally distressed to even ask about food. After she slaked her thirst and rinsed out, she moved back to the bed and laid down next to him on the side, facing away from him. She made sure she was laying in her good side to let her wounds rest. She had nothing to say that he would understand, and nothing more to offer in that moment. Her grey eyes just wandered the tent while she silently stored away all these new experiences as useful to her future and survival.
@Nakachu(edited)
For a moment he watched her as she pulled away. His breathing was coming in slow puffs. Perhaps he should have felt offended that she instantly went to wash out her mouth, but in that moment he did not care much. He had seen slaves do many things after being sexual with them, so he had stopped giving much thought to them over the years.
When he was sure that she was not just going to run off or continue with her work with the weapons he turned himself into his side. Sleep found him easy and he did not seem to require her company during the night. Though the sound of her breathing somehow brought him comfort.
——————————
A good week had gone by since that night between them. Their dynamic had stayed the same over that time. During the day Anja was usually left on her own, made to work along with the other slaves. She was made to wash laundry, skin more animals or even work the fields a few times. But once she returned to Lothar’s tent he had other plans for her. She was made to fix weapons, work with other metals. One time he even took her out to watch her work at the fire. He seemed interested in what knowledge she had.
In the meantime Grainne would attempt to teach Anja some of the language so she had a basic understanding of it. By the end of the week she would know simple words like no, yes, fire, water, food, hunger, stop, slave and many more. She was not at the point of knowing sentences just yet, but in the very least she was able to catch words that were being used around her.
When it came to Lothar’s sexual desires towards Anja, she had started to learn how to take control of him. Even if at some points he would still force his ways, she would learn that he was quite easy to manipulate into letting her take control. By using her mouth or her hands she could make those times more comfortable to herself while still giving Lothar what he required from her.
Everything put together, you could say that she was settling in quite well.
<@71173021915689785
“Water, river,” Áine muttered, dunking the clothes in her hands into the river so soak them. “Wet.” She paused and searched for more words related to water. Grainne had taught her quite a few of them, mostly essential words that she would use singularly to make herself understood. Áine didn’t know what the best approach to learn a new language was, but somehow her mind wanted to categorize words. “Wash.”
Next to her, Grainne sat with several baskets and was wringing out clothes too, far more efficient at the washing than Áine. The river water was cold on her hands, but she’d gotten used to it. “Cold. Hot. Burn. Fire.” Grainne’s one eye glanced in her direction. “Light.”
It was hard work. Every day was hard work for Áine. First, she had to tend to regular duties along with the other slaves. Then whenever she returned to Lothar’s tent, he usually made her work on his clan’s battered and broken tools and weapons until nightfall. The whetstone he’d provided was getting worn and she would have asked for better tools and even a grindstone if she thought he would care enough to provide them. While he did seem take interest in what she could do, he still wouldn’t let her actually do it the way she knew was the most efficient way.
They had a half-decent smeltery at the camp, a firepit to melt and refurbish broken weapons at. But their methods were crude and not half as efficient as they could have been. Áine had become a little more comfortable moving about the camp on her own now, but she still steered clear of Lothar during the day. Thankfully, she hardly saw him.
07:04
While their slaves and women worked, some men were tasked to oversee them while others honed their fighting abilities. Somewhere within the camp, a friendly spar was always going on. But what these brutes called a friendly spar could very fast turn into a bloody one. They were ruthless and taught each other hard lessons. Failure to block an attack in the camp could give a man a scar. Failure to block that same attack on the battlefield could be fatal.
Rubbing the fabric of the clothes together in her hands, she rolled her shoulder a little in discomfort. Her wounds were healing. A thick layer of scab had formed on the wounds, protecting them from the elements but also making her skin feel too tight. It hurt, itched, and she tried to keep them as clean as she could. Her feet had healed though, and so had most of her other smaller injuries.
Her and Grainne worked in silence this day, Áine too busy practicing the words she’d learned and Grainne didn’t seem very talkative. Every now and then the tall woman would correct her mispronunciation, but that was it.
“Dark. Night…” she continued.
@Nakachu
Most of Lothar’s days were spend in one of the tents that was on the campsite. Him and his men would gather and talk strategy. Despite how others might believe they were savage and barbaric, they actually had their own way of tactic. They kept a look on supplies, rationed it if needed and planned ahead when it was time to move on or find another village to raid. Scouts were out every day to see what target could be next and the clan usually struck right after a harvest so they did not need to put in that work themselves. They didn’t mind at all that the outside world believes them to be uncivilized as it was part of the reason they were so successful after all.
So even this day, Anja would barely see him at all. Any time she catched glimpses of him he was simply moving about the camp on his horse or on foot. Taking care of things around the camp and making sure people had what they needed. Already he had been moving around the weapons that Anja had sharpened, making sure that his best warriors received them first. He had even showed them to the few people within their group that actually tried their hand at smithing and told them to figure it out. He was not ready to share Anja’s secret skills with them just yet.
At the same time Grainne was indeed washing in the river with Anja. Even after that first week she was not sure how to feel about the new girl. Not that sh had much of a choice, after she had been marked it was sure that she was here to stay. Already the slaves that had been taken from Anja’s village were dwindling. Many of them passing away from dehydration, disease or their wounds. They were not treated well at all and perhaps it would show Anja that she got lucky that Lothar was not like some there.
She wanted to hate Anja, hate her for the place that she took within the barbaric clan. She had gotten that spot that she had longed for, a spot of comfort, and she seemed to be using it to. Already she was less bruised then Grainne had ever been and she was healing. Whatever magic she was working on Lothar.. it was working.
But at the same time she couldn’t help but feel connected to the girl in some ways. Not many slaves made it through their branding and even less kept their wits like she had. As Anja kept repeating words she would keep telling her more. Explaining them and letting her know what they mean. “You are getting there..” She just said in a soft compliment as she kept washing her pile.
@ShadowCat
Once the two women were finished for the day and all clothes had been hung up to dry, Áine made her way through the camp. She could move around somewhat freely, but eyes were always watching her. Men were always on guard. Not just to keep the slaves in line, but also to keep an eye on the vicinity of the camp and make sure no one trespassed or came too close. Thankfully, the camp was tucked away and mostly hidden in the woods. Any traveler unfortunate enough to come close would be swiftly dealt with and taken care of.
The fact that she was only allowed to eat whenever Lothar fed her, which was once a day late in the evening, Áine was losing weight. After just a week, the leather skirt that she’d tightened as best she could was hanging slightly off her hips. She kept her worries and complaints to herself, knowing that even if she was losing weight, she would not starve to death. The one portion Lothar provided was always generous, and he’d make sure she ate all of it. “Eat,” he would command her, watching until her bowl was empty. ‘Eat’ was not also a word she understood.
She’d seen the number of women from her own village dwindle, succumbing to wounds or dehydration and thirst. Every day, there was one face missing in the crowds. One less woman to help with the chores. At the same time, every other day there was a display of branding. A few were ‘lucky’ enough to find themselves adopted into the clan as a keepsake. At this point, not being branded as a slave to keep was a death sentence.
04:22
This particular evening as she walked slowly back to Lothar’s tent, she was watching the ground and not fully paying attention to her surroundings. Not until she crashed into the side of a hard mass crossing her path. Jumping back from it, she looked up and saw the face of a man not the slightest pleased about her interruption. He was carrying the carcass of a deer slung over his shoulder along with a bow. The man said something, hard short words spoken in their language. The only word she was able to understand being “….slave….” His somewhat camouflaged clothing suggested he was one of the hunters in the clan.
At that moment it struck Áine that she had yet to learn their word for apology and she jumped back again when he abruptly dropped the carcass to the ground. His eyes trailed her form while he approached, before he quickly closed the gap between them and grabbed a fistful of her hair, almost lifting her off the ground.
“No!” she yelled, trying to fight him off while he turned her to inspect the scabbed scar on her back. Unfortunately for Áine, Lothar’s name scarred into her flesh was hidden below the clan mark, underneath her leather top. When he turned her back to face him, his expression had shifted from anger to a dangerous grin.
@Nakachu
The fist she took to her abdomen knocked the wind out of her. Áine tried to grab the man’s arm when he moved it back for another punch. It led him to at least let go of her hair and instead grab that arm in a tight grip with his other hand. She winced, her lugs spasming for air and preventing her to call out. The second punch was aimed at her face, and she only somewhat avoided it by shielding herself with her free arm. His knuckles still made a decent connection to her cheekbone and temple.
His grip was tight, and he shook her, speaking more harsh words she didn’t understand. Finally able to force her lungs to cooperate and take a breath, she yelled “No!” again. The third punch sent her sprawling and he let go of her as she collapsed on the ground. Her head was swimming, angry tears blurring her vision while she tried to get back on her feet. A boot to her back send her into a roll.
At this point she was too dazed to try and get back up, gasping for breaths clutching around her abdomen. He couldn’t have used all his strength. A few more of those punches would have killed her if he did. In her blurred vision she saw the outline of the hunter approach again, and Áine kicked up at him, somewhat satisfied when she heard him grunt as one of her feet connected hard with the softness of his crotch. Rolling away from him while he was busy shaking off the pain, she made another attempt at getting to her feet.
Around them, a few voices shouted. People had taken notice of the commotion. Some laughed, others shouted words she didn’t understand.
He’d been on guard duty most of the day after meeting with Lothar and Tustrund in the morning. Amastan didn’t much enjoy the solitude of guarding the edges of the camp, watching the slaves work while he kept an eye on the forests. But he was sworn to keep his people safe just as much as Lothar was.
He patrolled the other side of the river, every now and then glancing at the women washing clothes there. He knew Grainne well. The tall slave had kept his bedsheets warm while she still had both her eyes. The redhead slave though, he only knew because she belonged to their leader. A feisty little thing, but small and weaker than many others. Still though, he could somewhat understand what Lothar saw in the girl. Her ‘assets’ were eye-catching, to say it mildly.
Amastan had just been relieved of his duty when he made his way back to the camp, crossing the river and directing his steps to the centre where the slave wives would be cooking dinner. Guard duty was boring, and it made him hungry for food and a warm body to keep him company.
Then he heard a commotion in between some of the tents, and he stopped to listen. It was likely a couple of fighters having a brawl, or a slave be put in her place. Either way, he was itching for some action and hurried his steps towards the sounds. What he saw had his blood turn cold for just a second, then he swiftly stepped over the crumpled mass of redhead on the ground and put himself between her and the hunter. Knowing his own strength, he grabbed the man’s punching arm in a vice grip. His dark eyes were piercing and burning.
“Have you lost your mind, boy?!” he roared, twisting further and roughly on the man’s arm until his knees buckled. “That one is a claimed slave. You wish to lose your arm? You have a death wish?”
05:27
The hunter’s eyes shifted to the redhead on the ground. She was clambering back onto her feet with pain and anger clear on her face. “Claimed?” he repeated rather dumbly and looked back at Amastan. The young man was a skilled hunter, but not irreplaceable. Amastan’s grip tightened further until he heard the bones in the hunter’s arm start to complain.
“Yes. Claimed. Means untouchable to the likes of us.” He finally let go, pushing the hunter forcibly away as he did. “Get out of here! Take your game and go. I will deal with Lothar.”
When the hunter heard Lothar’s name, his tanned face went from red with anger to pale with worry, and he picked up the discarded deer and marched away. Amastan knew the hunter would not try to run or hide from retribution. With a sigh, he turned to the redhead who had been able to get on her feet, surveying her injuries. He didn’t offer any help or assistance. It wasn’t his job to take care of her. After watching her and Grainne together though, he knew she was barely learning their language. So instead of helping or speaking, he just pointed in the direction of Lothar’s tent.
“Go.” A single and simple word, one that she clearly understood since she immediately made to leave, a little hunched as she clutched her stomach still. Amastan took a deep breath and then turned to the people watching. “What are you staring at? Get back to work!” The people dispersed and rushed off to their own business.
Her shook his head and left the area too. Lothar would not be pleased to hear this.
Lothar had made his way back to his tent like he usually did. He knew that Anja would likely not be back yet and all it did was give him some time to himself. He ordered a slave to fetch him some warm water. He stripped down to just his loincloth and sat down on a wooden stool in the middle of the space and started to roll the cloth over his limbs, washing the dirt of the day away from him.
He had time to think then, think about everything that had happened in that last week. His green eye staring into the distance in a serious way. Anja had proven a surprise. She was useful in a way that few slaves were and to Lothar she felt willing to do those things. She had shown her skills with the weapons and he wondered what else she could do. Yet to bring her to the forges or smeltery would not go down well with his men. They would not like feeling like a woman could do better then them.
And there was the part of their nights together. He had been able to do things with her that he had not been able to do with others. It wasn’t mindless fucking, there was more there. Sometimes he even felt like perhaps she enjoyed herself just as much as he did and the times that she did, it made it better for him too. Yet he still always pressed his agenda. When he wanted it done, it would be done, wether it was a moment she was willing or a moment that she forced herself.
His thoughts got interrupted as his tent flap opened. His skin was damp from the cloth, his muscles gleaming in the light and his chest and legs bare. His eyes found Anja, but they instantly turned sharper as he saw the state she was in. Amastan following in not much later. He got up from his stool, his body tense. “You better start talking.”
@ShadowCat
Áine made her way to Lothar’s tent, trying to keep her posture with somewhat dignity but failing every time her breaths had her stagger and she clutched her abdomen. The side of her face hurt, likely already bruising. When she rushed into the tent, she froze when she was met with the sight of Lothar sitting there barely clothed with a bucket of water between his feet. Their eyes met, hers wide and freshly wiped of a few furious tears -his at first questioning and then sharp with anger. It was all she needed to shy away and to the side of the tent, not wanting any more confrontations.
When the tall, long-haired man stepped inside after her, she edged further towards the back of the tent. He would surely tell Lothar she’d gotten in trouble and angered one of his men. Her heart raced already, and this was doing nothing to improve her nerves.
He had followed the small redhead through the camp, keeping a sharp eye on her to make sure she didn’t stray from her destination. All of Lothar’s closest men knew she was to tend to her duties and then return straight to his tent. Thankfully she did. Amastan stopped to get confirmation from the man on guard that Lothar was also inside the tent. He debated it no more than a few seconds before he ducked through the flaps after the girl.
Lothar had clearly already seen the state she was in, turning his sharp gaze towards Amastan as soon as he entered. He gestured to the redhead slave’s beaten figure with a straight face and spoke calmly. “Your slave ran into one of the young hunters. The whelp clearly didn’t know who she was and mistook her for a common slave.”
@Nakachu
His words did nothing to calm the anger inside of him. If anything it made it worse. He rose from the stool, tossing the cloth away and to the side of him on the ground. His body was tense with anger. Someone had touched her.. had hurt her.
"Unacceptable." He spoke almost through gritted teeth. He looked toward Anja and already saw the bruise forming on her cheek and it only made that burning anger worse. "Bring him to the square." If Amastan even dared to question him he would shoot him a look that would soon shut him up.
He turned back to Anja and walked towards her. His stride still tense. He moved his hand to her face and brushed away het hair fron her face, revealing the red mark on her cheek.
"Come." He ordered her, knowing she knew the words and went out the tent, making his way to the square. With her in tow. Sometimes looking over his shoulder to make sure she was there.
@ShadowCat
Amastan wordlessly left and walked with determined strides through the camp, finding his way to the edge where the hunters and scouts had their smaller tents. He found the whelp, Kolgar, sitting outside his small tent, replacing the string on his bow. When Amastan stopped in front of him, Kolgar lifted his gaze from his work.
Their eyes locked in a few seconds; no words needed between them. He could see the young man already understood why Amastan was there. “Ready yourself, boy,” was all he said and beckoned for the man to follow him.
Kolgar left the bow next to his tent and rose. He might be a young man, but he was almost as strong and tall as most of the others. They walked in silence back, Amastan leading the way to the center square of the camp. Once there, he grabbed the younger man firmly by the nape of his neck and pushed him forward into the square. His blood boiled a little. He had itched for some action -this was surely going to be it.
Lothar was already there, and behind him stood his small redhead slave. The hunter had stumbled many steps by his forceful shove. When he straightened, he turned to face Lothar as well. The young whelp really did have a death wish, or perhaps needed to be put in his place the same way he had tried to do to their leader's slave. His face portrayed no remorse or apology for what he’d done.
Amastan almost chuckled at the boy’s bravery or stupidity.
@Nakachu
The whole time they walked his body was tensed and his feet were bouldering into the ground almost making the ground shake underneath him. They reached the square soon and he simply motioned for Anja to stay behind him. Many already started to gather, sensing that something was going to go on. He waited there not saying a word till Amastan had located the boy and brought him in the square.
Lothar watched the boy stumble forward and as he straightened they met eye to eye. Already it was clear the boy was not going to apologize. Yet as was their custom, he would get his chance to do so. For a few moments the two simply stared at one another. “You have touched a slave claimed by another, claimed by the very leader of your clan.” Lothar said, his voice was low and rumbling. “What do you have to say to that?” His eye were serious and dark, if looks could have killed the boy before him would no longer live. “I have been hunting for the good of the clan for days. I was not aware of a claim placed on the slave.” The boy said, his back straight. Lothar let silence stretch between them. “She is marked for a reason.” He barked. “Her mark was obscured.” The boy barked back. “Apologize.” Lothar demanded, yet the boy stayed quiet, his whole body tense and on fire. “Suit yourself..” Lothar spoke.
He never took his eyes away from the boy as he put his hand up. Trustrund would come forward and hand them both a tray of weapons in which they could take their pick. The boy took a dagger and Lothar took a small hand axe. It was one of the weapons that had been sharpened by Anja. “Defend your honor, or bleed for your mistakes.” Lothar called out.
And just like that they were off. They charged at each other with loud screams. Even if the boy was a seasoned hunter, it was soon clear that he had no chance against Lothar himself. Lothar was a warrior with years of experience, especially in battled. It didn’t take long for his dagger to find the boys arm and slash it enough for him to d
04:13
rop his own weapon. His arm came around his head to get him in a lock and then grabbed into his arms to pin them to his back. The boy struggled against him as the blood from his wound seeped down his arm and dripped into the ground. “I will give you one last shot boy.” Lothar said to him, but the stubbornness in the boy remained. “I will bleed.” The boy hissed through teeth. “Then bleed you will.” Lothar answered him.
A normal punishment within the clan would be to take hands or feet or other limbs. Yet the boy before them was a hunter and a good one at that. He would need both his hands and his feet, even his eyes were of more value then they would be for most. Yet.. the hunter had no use to speak. It took only moment before his jaw was forced open and Lothar’s hands grasped at his tongue. The panic in the boy was sudden, but once it was there it came on hard. Yet Lothar’s grip did not lessen. The axe was brought up once more and as the crowd started to cheer the blade of it cut through the musculair flesh was cut of clean. The boy screamed and was soon gurgling in blood as Lothar let him go.
@ShadowCat
She’d followed behind Lothar’s stormful frame to the center square with measured and controlled steps, not wanting to show how absolutely petrified she was. Áine was certain there would be punishment to have. In her mind, Grainne’s words echoed, the stories about public torture or worse haunting her imagination. And yet she made no attempts to flee. That man had attacked her, not the other way around. Perhaps bumping into him was her fault, but she had no words for apology yet and it wasn’t like she’d caused any harm to him.
When Lothar moved his hand back to her, to signal she stop and stay, she stayed. Her grey eyes watched with a wide stare as Lothar’s man came through the crowd, shepherding the hunter who’d beaten her. Áine almost flinched at the roughness the younger man was shoved into the circle with. She backed away, unable to help herself even though Lothar was approaching the man. None of the words they spoke made any sense. She focused hard to try and distinguish anything she could recognize, and again the only one she knew was the word “slave”.
Only when she realized that the punishment wasn’t hers to receive did her shoulders relax a little. As the men picked their weapons and began fighting, she could only watch in mesmerized horror at how ruthless and severe they both were. This was not a friendly spar. They were fighting for blood.
It became clear very quickly that the younger hunter was no match for Lothar, even though he did his best and fought hard to try and defeat him. Áine flinched when his tongue was separated from his mouth, the man’s screams feral and gurgling, echoing through the village. People were not roaring or cheering. Everyone watched in silence and with bated breaths, clearly not taking any amusement in the fight or seeing one of their own dishonored and punished in such a way.
04:59
After Lothar had let the younger man go and stepped away from him, the tall and long-haired man from before stepped over, carrying a piece of glowing steel taken from the firepit. He spoke to the man and grabbed his chin, roughly pressing his fingers in on his cheeks until he opened his mouth. The young hunter did not fight this, but his eyes were wide with fear. As the long-haired man put the glowing steel into his mouth, likely to cauterize his severed tongue, he screamed again. Held in place only by the massive hand under his chin, eventually he lost consciousness. When the man pulled the glowing steel away and released the younger hunter, his body slumped to the ground.
The stench of burned flesh made her stomach churn and Áine turned away from it all, holding her hand over her mouth and nose. Her pale face stuck in a grimace of disgust, horror, and fear. Behind her, she heard heavy steps approach and knew it could only be Lothar. She turned her head a little to the side to look at him.
@Nakachu
Lothar pulled away from the man and simply stood there as the wound was cauterized by Amastan. There was no regret in his face, if anything there was just more anger. He waited for the boy’s screams to die down before he addressed the crowd that had gathered around the square. “You do not touch the slave of another! Let this be a lesson to all!” He shouted over the square. He was still livid. Especially when he cast his eyes back to Anja and saw the state that she was still in. “Touch her.” He said pointing to Anja. “And next time I might not be as gentle.” He hissed through his teeth. Soft whispers would go around the crowd, but he was sure the message had been received.
He turned back to Anja and walked towards her. As she looked up at him she would be met with a face that still spoke of his anger, but there was something else hidden behind it. Was it worry? It was likely hard to tell. “Follow.” He said, knowing it was a word she knew and started to make his way out of the square. He led her back to the tent where they had come from and the moment she was inside he would push her in further and made her sit down in the furs. He took the stool he had been on before and dragged it till he was sitting in front of her.
His hand came up to her chin and he made her turn her head to the side. His eyes took in the bruise that was on her cheek, seeing the lines of it already starting to purple up. It made his eyebrows come together. His thumb brushed against it as his lips pressed in that straight line. The bruises that had been on her before had not bothered him. He had caused them, he had known why they were there, but this one. It had been caused by another and it bothered him.
“Does it hurt..?” He asked, hoping she would understand at least part of what he was asking.
@ShadowCat
Áine followed Lothar back to his tent. She didn't look at anyone and was still trying to carry herself with some dignity. Why that was so important to her, she didn't know. She just knew that these people wouldn't see her cower just because she got her ass kicked for unfair reasons. Her abdomen and back still hurt from the hunter's punches and boot. Each step sent a new jolt of pain through her. Despite her best efforts to hide and ignore it, her arm inadvertently wanted to clutch herself. Protect herself from the pain.
Once back in his tent, at first she didn't look at him. Lothar's anger was frightening, his temper unpredictable. She'd learned ways to try and ease that anger out of him so she wouldn't be on the receiving end of it, but this evening she wasn't sure if she could force herself to do that. When he pushed her backwards onto the fur bed, a small grimace crossed her face. When all he did was pull the small stool over to sit in front of her, her surprise made her look at him.
She saw how tightly knit his strict eyebrows were. The way his jaw tensed, his green eyes somehow darker than usual. Áine observed his face while he was inspecting hers. Her cheekbone and temple. The smallest of pained grimaces crossed her face when his thumb brushed against it, a slightly sharp inhale of air. She understood only one of his words however, and only looked back at him with that same numb expression as before as she repeated it.
"Hurt." A word for pain, physical and emotional. A word for being wounded. Áine had asked Grainne about it and memorized the word. But she hadn't thought she'd ever need to say it, even less that he would care to know.
Wondering to what extent he cared, she undid her leather covers they called clothes and pulled the chest piece away. She took his hand and placed it between her ribs at her upper abdomen. Bruises were likely forming there too, even though she hadn't looked. She watched his face to try and figure out if he really car
20:08
ed or if he'd take it as an invitation for sex.
@Nakachu
Her repeating the word made a grunt leave his lungs that almost sounded like a growl. For a mere hunter to touch his slave.. and for that same hunter to then challenge him like he had done nothing wrong. He should have done more then cut out the boys tongue. He should have not cared about him being a hunter. He should have taken an eye, an ear, a foot. Anything to make him pay for this. He didn’t even truly understand why he felt that way. He simply told himself that his property had been touched and that was the reason.
As she stripped down her leathers and placed his rough hand on her abdomen that tension only increased. His hand was so big against her that it brushed against her breast but for once it didn’t seem to cause a reaction in him. He suddenly pulled away from her and went to the opening of the tent. “Go get us food. And get the females to draw a bath.” He ordered around before going back inside. He was pacing around, so much unrest in his body by what had occured.
It didn’t take long before a tin tub was brought in and female after female was starting to come into the tent to fill it with water. At first they were buckets of cold water from the river, but it didn’t take long before water was being added that was steaming into the cold air. Another slave came in with food. It was a big meaty piece of boar along with baked potatoes. Where he would normally devide a portion away for Anja, he this time simply handed her the entire plate. “Eat.” He told her as she sat back on that stool and watched her as if he needed to make sure she did indeed eat.
@ShadowCat
His restless energy made her wary, knowing it could build up into a fit of rage. Trapped in the same tent as an angry bear wasn't her idea of safety. While Lothar was pacing and women came in with water to fill the tub, she pulled her leathers back on. She'd understood the word "food", but that was it.
Áine waited on the fur bed, watching the activity that was stirring the air in the tent. Mostly watching Lothar and the way his hands formed fists at his sides. When food was brought in, she blinked in surprise when he put the entire plate in front of her. Her grey eyes wandered from the food and back up at him while he sat himself back down in front of her. The portion was far too big for her, but he made no moves to divide it with her like he usually did. Only ordered her to eat.
Slowly, she pulled a piece of the meat off, eating it while throwing glances up at him. Something wasn't right, and until she could figure out what it was she'd keep an eye on him. Unpredictable as he may be, she didn't see him as deceitful. Why would he trick her? Her shoulders dropped a little in an exhale while she ate. Boar had never been her favorite, but this was good. Whoever had made it knew their way around herbs and seasoning.
She relaxed more, even though she ate slowly. After a while she held the plate closer to him, a question in her eyes. "Eat… with me."
@Nakachu
He instantly shook his head and pushed the plate back towards her. “Eat more.” He demanded from her. He was not going to eat until she had gotten her fill, until he was satisfied that she had eaten enough. He was not going to take anything from her plate. Instead he got up again and went over to the tub which was starting to get full. He dipped his hand into it and didn’t seem satisfied. The next time a woman walked in her grabbed her by her collar and pulled her closer against him. “Make it warmer!” He shouted at her before pushing her out again. The woman quickly nodded and ran out again. More buckets of steaming water being brought in to heat the water.
The tension in him was clear, her it should start to show that it was not directed at Anja at all. He was fuming, this much was true, but he was not going to take it out on her at all. If anything there was a strange guilt inside of him that she had been hurt, something he had never really felt before.
The bath was filled more and he dipped his hand back in it, liking the warmth of it this time. He dismissed the woman with a soft growl and a bark before turning back to Anja and checking if she was done with her food. If she was he would take her arm and pulled her up from the bed so she was standing and then started to undress her leathers from her body. His eyes danced over her body, though not for the reasons she might think. Once he had gotten the clothes off her he motioned to the bath. “Bathe.” He ordered her, needing her to get it.
@ShadowCat
His agitation was one thing. This sudden interest in her well-being was another. Áine ate what she could, but it wasn't even half of what was on the plate. She'd set the plate aside when she was done, still keeping an eye on Lothar while he moved about the tent until the bath was topped with a few more buckets of water.
She stood on his instruction, looking up at him while he undressed her. Bathe wasn't a word she understood, but she understood the meaning when he gestured her to the tub. Her eyes must have revealed her surprise. Usually Áine would clean herself in the river, or with a washcloth and a bucket. She'd never had a bath during her time with Lothar.
She stepped into the metal tub, kneeling until she could sink back and sit. When the hot water reached where the hunter had hurt her stomach and back, she took deep and hissing breaths. Warm water and bruises didn't go well together. She'd bruise faster like this. But as she sank back into the tub and tried to relax, she had to admit the warm water was comforting. The evenings and nights were always cold here, and the bath warmed her up very nicely.
After a few seconds of debating it, she sank deep enough to submerge her head, letting her hair soak in the water too. Rubbing her face carefully around her bruise, she sat back up and looked towards Lothar.
She'd learned the word 'why', but trying to ask why would likely result in either nothing but a grumpy grunt, or an explanation she couldn't understand.
@Nakachu
He would still watch her intently as she got in that tub. His eyes still stormy and filled with a strange rage. Only once she had emerged herself did he move to the plate she had left and started to eat himself. He ripped the meat off the bone, sometimes popping a potato in his mouth afterwards.
The food was gone quickly and he could probably have done with more. But he was not about to ask for more. Instead he tossed the plate into the floor, barely not breaking it. Before he got up and walked towards her. His steps had slowed down and perhaps some tension had left him. He walked to side where her head was resting and brushed the wet curls away from her face. His eyes filled with concern as he looked down at her.
"Anyone who hurts you will be punished." He spoke. Not caring if she could understand him. "Be assured of that." He said to her as he brushed more curls away. "As you are mine and I will not have other hands laid upon you."
@ShadowCat
She watched his face closely while he spoke, as if watching how his lips moved with every word would somehow translate them to her. But she’d only learned ‘hurt’, ‘mine’ and ‘you’. Shaking her head, Áine took his hand from her face and held it between her own, much smaller hands. Her grey eyes were still lingering on his face, his expression entirely new to her.
“Thank you.” A phrase she had learned but never thought she would actually say. For whom would she thank in this place, and what could she possibly want to thank them for? But in that moment, it seemed like the only appropriate thing to do. He had, perhaps for the first time during this week, showed her kindness that wasn’t entirely inspired by self-interest.
Or perhaps it was. He was their leader. Áine understood that the hunter had done Lothar wrong by harming her. He had spit on his leadership and shown disrespect. It wasn’t about her. It was about his claim to her.
Amastan wandered through the camp, his heavy strides slow even if deliberate. He’d already ate and was now carrying a wooden flagon of ale in his hand. When he reached his destination, a small tent at the edge of camp, he stopped and crouched. Slumped and leaning up against a tree sat Kolgar in silence, his head hanging a little. Amastan set the flagon of ale down next to the young man.
“You got off easy, boy,” he said, and Kolgar raised his head. The expression in his eyes was an expression that kept excruciating pain at bay. He was sweating and shaking slightly. But he accepted the offer for ale and took the flagon, drinking deep gulps with a sigh.
“Keep that in mind. Lothar sees your value as a hunter. Otherwise, a tongue would be the least of your worries. Get better, do your job, and stay out of his way. You understand me, boy?”
The hunter gave him a nod, blinked and gulped several mouthfuls of the ale. Amastan nodded and rose to stand again. “And don’t even look in the direction of his slave, ever again.”
With those words, he parted from Kolgar and went back into the center of the camp, eyes peeled for his current favorite slave.
@Nakachu
"Thank you." The words made him look up at her. It was something he had expected to hear from anyone, let alone from her. Even if the words existed in his language, they were rarely spoken within the barbarian camp. They were reserved for only the most unusual situations. And hearing them come from her had him unsure of what he should say back to it. Instead he just grunted softly and then pulled himself away from her.
He wiped over his hair, knocking the small leathet band that held it together out and letting his brown hair fall around his face. He did not know how to act around her in that time and ended up just pacing the room as she bathed. In the end he sat down and pulled the dagger he had used to cut the boys tongue. The dried blood still on the blade. He pulled a cloth and started to wipe it clean with water and oil.
@ShadowCat
When Lothar removed himself from her, Áine continued her bath in the awkward silence of the tent. Usually, the silence between them didn’t bother her, the language barrier preventing any conversation. In addition to that, Lothar was able to say more than enough with his body language alone. This time however, his body language was out of order and unusual. To not listen to his restless pacing, she ducked her head back into the water, cleaning the long red curls.
Once the water began cooling and she’d cleaned up properly, she stood from the tub. The cold air immediately chilled her wet skin while she squeezed the water out of her hair. Stepping out of the tub, she found one of the cloths Lothar sometimes would use to dry himself off on. Her pale skin glistened in the sparse light in the tent. Pale but interrupted by blue and purple colors. Wrapping her hair into the cloth to dry it, she walked over to the fur bed and crawled into it behind Lothar.
There she laid down, pulling a fur blanket over herself in silence, finding a comfortable position where she’d just watch Lothar.
@Nakachu
His eyes would switch between her and the blade of the dagger. It had been sharp thanks for Anja's work and had made a clean cut through the boys tongue. In the very least it should heal cleanly if infection didn't set it. Still he felt like he had wished to do more. That he had not defended his claim enough. Yet at the same time he had put his own feelings aside for the better of the clan, to make sure they would have enough hunters to catch them food if they needed it.
He watched her get out of the tub and then dry herself off before she climbed into the bed. Once he was done with the dagger he tossed it through the air in a way that the blade got stuck in the wooden table in the tent. It was once again a display of his abilities.
He stripped himself of his loincloth, having already been bare aside it since he had bathed himself before. Once he did he climbed into to furs himself and laid himself down on his back with an arm under his neck. He closed his eyes and simply seemed to prepare himself to sleep.
It was the first time that he didnt call upon Anja for sexual favor. The first time he left her alone without the need to be touched or sucked or fucked. He simply went to sleep without another word between them.
@ShadowCat
As Lothar laid down on his back and simply closed his eyes, Áine watched him with slight surprise. Every single night after he took her from her home, he’d wanted her. He would either just take it or coax her into giving it to him willingly. She’d stopped fighting him after the first brutal episodes where everything was just painful and forced. That, however, didn’t mean he’d been gentle since then, far from it. But Áine had learned quickly that the more she fought it the more he would force it.
This evening he made no attempts at such. He didn’t touch her, didn’t even look at her. For some strange reason it had her on edge. Was he really that displeased with her? It had seemed like he was angry with the hunter, not her. But now she wasn’t so sure anymore. This blatant ignorance of her even being in the same bed as him felt like a cold shoulder. Rejection.
And why did that hurt?
His behavior earlier had seemed almost caring, worried about her well-being. It had her second guess her impression of him. Now he simply ignored her, and that had her second guess it all over again. Her thoughts scattered and pursued many possible options, all of them ending at the worry he’d grown tired of her already. He’d hurt one of his own over her, over his claim to her. Over his authority in their clan. And for what? For a slave. Someone who, to his people, meant nothing. Someone who only had value as long as they pleased them and performed their duties.
Nothing. That word etched itself into her and carved a new type of wound in her mind. Áine couldn’t help but wonder what he would do once he was done with her. Cut his name away from her back and toss her to the mercy of his men? Scarps for the rest of his pack to pick clean?
There mere thought had her breath hitch a little. This new uncertainty shook her existence all over again and she didn’t like it. It had been shaken enough and Áine wasn’t sure how much more she could handle without losing her mind completely.
03:05
Slowly, she raised herself up on one elbow, facing him, and put her hand on his stomach.
The sudden hand on his stomach made him open his eyes again. They peered towards her and found those grey eyes of hers. He could see how her mouth was slightly open, how her breathing was slightly elated. He tried to find what her words could never tell him, yet he came up empty. Was she scared? Was she aroused? He could not tell.
Yet for her to initiate that touch was something she had never done and he couldn’t help but wonder why she had done it. He had planned to leave her alone, feeling the guilt of her having been hurt, yet here she was. The arm that had been behind his neck came forward and in a smooth motion he pulled her on top of him, making her legs straddle him. His manhood was soft beneath her as he searched for her eyes.
His hand came over her stomach, moving over the angry purple bruise that had formed and instantly that soft almost growl left his lips again. The hand moved up more over her breast till it reached her cheeks and found the bruise that was there as well before it came down and landed both his hands on her hips. He simply looked at her, wondering what it is that she wanted from him.
@ShadowCat
When Lothar pulled her onto him, Áine relaxed in her new position. His hands could wander freely if he chose to do so, and yet he was careful with where he put them. Her grey eyes locked with his for many seconds, stull puzzled at his behavior and needing to know… if her suspicions were true. Leaning her upper bodyweight on her arms, she moved down to kiss him. Very gently and for some inexplicable reason scared he’d reject it. A week ago, hell even just a day ago, she would have been happy about a night ‘off’ from him. But not now. Not like this.
Her hands rested in the furs above his shoulders, and while her body hurt, it wasn’t beyond what she could handle. Pressed against him like this, her breasts pressed into his chest. She could feel her own heartbeats slightly fast in her own ribcage, each thud echoing a chorus of her worries.
Her lips softly pressed against his, tongue snaking out to run along his bottom lip, gauging his reaction.
@Nakachu
He could barely hide his surprise when she leaned forward against him. She pressed those lips against his and for a short moment he was just a bit stunned. She had never initiated anything with him and here she was, pressing those small plump lips against his. As she let her tongue dance over his bottom lip he would open his own to let her in and let his tongue come to meet his. A low rumble leaving his throat that spoke of his approval.
His rough hands came up to rub over her back and sides, feeling the warmth of her skin underneath it and pressing her chest just ever so slightly back against him. It didn’t take long for the rest of his body to respond to her as well and his length would start to harden underneath her as he let his tongue dance with hers.
He soon snaked those hands back down her body and back down to those hips, pressing her into him as he brought his hips forward. Feeling the heat of her sex against him once more brought a grunt out of him of soft approval as he started to get back into it with her. He might have been fine going to sleep before, but now that she had awoken that need in him, she was not going to go to sleep without giving him what he needed.
@ShadowCat
Áine kissed him gently at first, then more fiercely and with deeper passion. For every second her lips and tongue were connected to him was a second of reassurance. He took control of it quickly, even if she had initiated it and was physically on top, Lothar’s mouth soon directed hers to respond to him, not the other way around. Áine didn’t mind it. Her hands moved to his chest, sliding them along well toned muscles and warm, scarred skin.
She should be shocked and appalled at herself. In some ways she was. Just a week ago this man had raped her in the woods. Then he’d done it again in his tent. He’d physically hurt her, made sure to assert himself over her and show her that any fight she put up would only amuse him -not deter him. But with the foundation of her existence shaken and changed so drastically, her very reason for living hanging in such a thin thread altogether, her view of it all had warped and changed with it. A man she should hate was now a man she heavily depended on. For her own health and safety.
If he was tiring of her already, she’d have to win him back over.
When he shifted and began grinding himself up into her, his large hands on her hips to adjust her position, Áine did nothing to pull away. Instead, she shifted too, making sure that his length was sliding between her lower lips and pushing against her clit. It had her breaths stagger again, for different reasons this time. A moan moved up her throat with earnestly as the rub and prod awoke real desires in her, not just what she thought he wanted to see. Her body responded to the stimulation, coating her lower lips and entrance with wetness while she swelled a little in her hunger. It rubbed off on him and allowed his member slide along her slit easily, helped along by her movements and his.
@Nakachu
It was perhaps the most willing he had ever found her. The most needing almost. Every single time so far she had tolerated him, had always had that soft edge of fear still carved in her features. The few true moans he had pulled from her seeming to have been barely there.
Yet this time it didn't time long for wetness the grow between her legs and her hips to start sliding over him more easily. His length had hardened underneath her and the need for him to push her into the furs and take her from behind was starting to itch at the edge of his mind. Yet he was curious too.
His hand left her hips, letting her grind herself against him more. Instead they came up to grab into her red curls and keep their lips locked together. Their kiss became more sloppy with the second, his rough facial hair brushing over her fair skin. Then he pulled her away by her hair, though not roughly, and brought his mouth to her neck, sucking at the skin there as he still moved his hips against him. Getting into that intense rhythm as she slid so easily over his length.
@ShadowCat
With the added wetness and her own arousal, Áine’s movements became more controlled. She let his thick member slide at the very top of her slit, making a point of it hitting against her clit. Each time it did, the hooded nub came a little more out of its hiding place to greet the stimulations. It sent tiny shivers through her and had another breathy moan flutter over her lips, free to fill the air now that he was kissing and biting at her neck instead.
Her hands were still using his chest as support, grey eyes closed in a moment of just chasing the sensation. The warmth that spread through her was real and not forced, building up a familiar pressure in her groin that she knew would lead to her release if Lothar allowed it. He rarely had the patience to wait for her to be ready for it, taking her when and how he wanted and finishing when and how he wanted.
With every movement, the sleek friction of his member against her built that pressure even more. She pushed herself a little more down onto him, wanting to chase it for her own sake this time and not his. Just this once, perhaps he could understand that her enjoyment was better for them both. Opening her eyes again she looked down at him while still grinding onto him, trying to catch his eyes in her own. Hers had a fiery determination in them, a will of her own that wouldn’t let him ignore her or cast her aside so easily. No fear. Not at that moment. Just lust and the need to know he was there.
Precum leaked from him and added to her wetness, letting her slide herself even easier on him. Her movements were still inexperienced, but it did the trick and she wouldn’t stop unless he made her.
@Nakachu
The sound leaving her throat was something that he had wanted to hear ever since it had slipped from her that very first time. He couldn't help the soft grin that danced against him lips. Following by the burrying of one between his teeth.
Each time she skid her hips forward he couldn't help but tense his abs and move along with her. It was like he was taking her. Just without being inside her. Yet the feeling of her weight and her wetness around him felt amazing.
He met her eyes and he couldn't help but admire the intensity in it, the lust written in those eyes of hers. His eyes danced between her and the movement of her. Noted that spot that rubbed over his tip that made her shudder. His hand came to her then and he placed his thumb against her mound and started to slide it down till it found that nub that she had been coaching out of its hiding spot. He started to rub over it, letting the wetness guide it alone. At the same time he would not let her lose the rhythm of her hips and kept moving his own length underneath her.
@ShadowCat
She almost lost her rhythm and had to catch herself when Lothar’s thumb found that nub on his own. The direct pressure of his thumb far more intense than her grinding herself on him. A few short and shallows breaths of surprise and pleasure had her struggle to find back to the rhythm she’d been in, but she did find it again. Better this time as he was still using his thumb on her. Why hadn’t he before?
Her wetness fully coated his length now, pushing herself down on his member harder and grinding just a little faster. The small shivers soon became stronger while the pressure inside her grew, a coil winding up in her sex that trickled at the edges of her nerves and mind. When she felt it approach, almost tasting it on her tongue, she groaned a little. His thumb slid over her exposed clit a few more times, her sex grinding the length of his thick member. Her breaths became short and shallow puffs again, chasing it until it finally exploded inside her.
Áine’s next sound wasn’t a soft moan or a muffled grunt. It was loud and high pitched as waves of pleasure sent hard shivers through her limbs. Her hands on his chest clutched at his flesh, holding onto him while she rode off her orgasm on his member. Her eyes closed and she forgot to move on him, just pushing herself down to hold the pressure from him onto every soft and sweet spot.
@Nakachu
He kept rubbing over that spot between her legs, especially as she seemed to be getting more into it. Her breathing started to pick up, her eyes closing as the pleasure dances across her face. He kept his hips going along with her rhythm and he couldn’t help his own grunts starting to slowly run out of him as well as she was really coating his length with her.
And then her sounds changed and became loud. He looked up to find the expression on her face as she came and her voice filled the space in that tent. He could feel another rush of wetness come down into his length and even if she was keeping herself still, he still rocked his length underneath her. He liked those new sounds that she was producing and all he wanted was for them to keep going. He was blissfully unaware that whatever she was going through was probably temporary.
At the same time his ache of being inside of her was growing as well. He liked the feel of her of top of him, but at the same time he enjoyed the feel of having her sex wrapped around him more. As she seemed to come down from whatever had happened to her he moved his hands back to her hips and lifted her into the air a bit. His member sprung up easily as he had been hard for a long time. He moved his tip into her opened as his eyes found hers. They were full of lust and need even if his eyebrows were still in that same stoic expression. Simply inviting her to sit herself down on him.
@ShadowCat
When he raised her hips and lifted her a little, Áine met those green eyes with her own. There was a pause, a hesitation. No force or attempts at pulling her down on him, simply waiting for her to do it herself. She wondered if he’d do it anyways if she took too long or refused, but she also knew in that moment she could not afford to, or even want to refuse. Her hand reached down between them and grabbed around his member, aiming it as she allowed herself to sink down on him. Her recent orgasm still sent small aftermath twitches through her, making her swollen readiness hug around him tightly as she slowly impaled herself on him.
Another moan rushed from her lungs, less intense but still there. He’d had his way with her many times by now, but still her body was stretching to accommodate his size. This one time it didn’t outright hurt, however. This one time she was ready for it, wanting it, taking pleasure in how it felt.
Her grey eyes had a darker shade than usual, pupils wide with the newly awakened desires that coursed through her. They were both warm and throbbing, she could feel every inch he had to give and took as much of him as her body would allow. Once she’d pulled herself down on him fully, she paused and put her hand on her lower belly, looking down at herself for a second. She was almost certain she could feel him through the muscled layer of her stomach. Likely just her imagination, but he filled every small space within her and forced the tissue to stretch and yield.
She rose again, pulling herself just as slowly off him as she’d taken him in, and something carnal awoke in her. Áine leaned forward and put her entire weight on him, her hands on his sturdy chest for leverage. Every inch slowly pulled out, and when she sank back down she did it with a little more force and faster.
@Nakachu
He held those grey eyes in the greens of his as she wrapped that hand around him and started to lower herself. A grunt left him that showed his approval as he never took his eyes away from hers. The hands on her hips stayed there, digging into her flesh but never pulling her down. He could feel her twitching around him and it made his muscled tend in her abs, taking everything in him to not just pull her down into him.
Yet that moans made her leave her in control. Those sounds that he had not been able to pull from her when he had forced himself upon her. A sound that had his lust coursing through his veins like never before.
She finally sat down fully he could feel him hitting her cervix, his length pulsing inside her. And then she pulled up again, her hands finding the muscles in his chest and gripping into him before she came down into him with more force. Again he grunted, his jaw tight from the sensations. "Good girl..." he growled low out of his throat even if the words were probably lost on her. He could get used to this. He could get used to hearing her moan and seeing her body shiver from what he was doing to her. He wanted more..
@ShadowCat
The words he softly grumbled made no sense to her, but the tone wasn’t hard or aggressive. If anything, she picked up on his approval. Áine lowered herself on him again, and again, each push and stroke from his girth causing a heated friction inside her. She shook and wanted more, yet she took her time and slowly increased her pace. Her hips rolled a little, discovering what angles and strokes she enjoyed the most. Tilting her head back in another shuddering sound of enjoyment, long red curls still wet from her bath cascaded down her back.
Once she’d found a rhythm and a roll that had her breaths stagger with each rise and sink, Áine focused on it with renewed determination. He was surprisingly passive, holding her hips in his large hands but doing little to guide her movements. Yet she could see, when she gazed down at his face, that he was enjoying it as much as she was. The pains and aces from the hunter’s abuse faded into the background of her mind, pushed aside in favor of chasing this pleasure instead.
As she moved a little faster, pulling herself down on his member harder, one single word slipped from her lips. Entirely accidental and without her conscious attention. “Lothar…”
When she realized it, heard his name on her own lips spoken with the soft accent of her own language, she looked down at him in surprise. Yet she didn’t stop. The angled rolls had the head of his member push and brush against a sweet spot inside her that made her tense and hug him tighter. She kept moving and roll her hips, almost aggressively chasing that promising warmth again while her breaths grew louder in the silence of the tent.
@Nakachu
The way her body accepted him this time around was almost addicting. He couldn’t help but watch her face as she seemed to truly enjoy herself as she starting to ride him. He could feel himself sliding in and out of her, the sounds of her juices moving into the air as well as those sweet sounds that came from low her lungs. Meanwhile his own grunts were also slowly starting to become more frequent and even slightly lower then they had been.
02:06
It wasn’t till his name slipped over her tongue that he found that he could no longer hold back. It had been so melodic.. a way that nobody had ever spoken his name before. He brought his hand towards her hair and pulled her back down to him. His lips found hers and his other hand moved down to her thigh, squeezing his fingers into her skin. He started to rock her hips into her, meeting her halfway those long rolls she had been doing against him.
Meanwhile his tongue hungrily searched for her, his facial hair rubbing against her skin as her red curls tumbled around the both of them. The sound of their sexes meeting filling the air inside of that tent as he was starting to quicken the pace between them. “Anja..” He growled into her mouth.
@ShadowCat
Áine let herself be pulled down towards him, her lips met his as he greedily took her mouth in possession. Almost intoxicated, she rolled and rockef her hips with more vigor than before, spurred and encouraged by his thrusts upwards to meet her. Each stroke and roll of his member inside her pulled her towards that peak, every push from him upwards letting him burrow himself deeper than before.
New moans filled the air, bordering on cries muted by his lips on hers. The hand at her thigh gripped her firmer, as if she'd dare to stop or go anywhere at that moment. Áine heard her name on his breath, roughly spoken and yet, somehow intimate. She could feel that tight and hot sensation continue to build along with his member moving in and out of her sex. Her wetness and warmth welcomed every intrusion.
Suddenly and unexpectedly she stopped. A sharp cry filled the air while all her lower muscles suddenly convulsed and tensed around his throbbing member, holding hard for a second or two until they broke out in frantic spasms. Áine almost mewled on top of him, her hips suddenly pushing herself down on him hard to feel all of him while she came. Tighter with each contraction and harder with each small movement, it prolonged her orgasm until she was nothing but a soft mess on top of him.
@Nakachu
Those sounds that filled his mouth were only driving Lothar further. His hips starting to become more eager as he pressed his hips up to meet hers. He felt her inside clenching down around her as she started to get closer to yet another orgasm. His own grunts starting to become louder as well as he did so, his breath coming out of his nose in short but powerful burst.
Even if she suddenly stopped that didn’t keep his own hips from thrusting up into her. As she clenched around him he could feel himself being dragged over the edge as well within just a few thrust. His grunt was loud and filled the room as it came out at the same time of her sharp cry. He could feel the pulsing of her sex around him as it milked him for his seed. As he came he kept thrusting small bits into her to release himself before he collapsed along side of her.
He could feel the soft layer of water on her skin, not sure if it was from her bath or from the activity that they had enjoyed together. His was for sure from their activity however and as she laid on top of him their skin would kind of stick together. His hand came up to idly move over her back, unsure of what else to do with it. Her curls splayed out over his chest. He had his eyes closed, marveling in the feelings that were rushing through him.
@ShadowCat
She laid sprawled out on his chest for a moment, catching her breaths while her eyelids were heavy with the pleasure she’d just had. The unharmed side of her face laid against his chest, and she could hear the heavy and steady beats of his heart behind it. His chest rose and sank with his breaths, lifting her with it while she listened. Hands still resting on him, they moved smoothly over the sleek thin layer of sweat that coated his skin. His scent has a slightly musky tinge to it, likely emphasized by their recent activity.
His hand that trailed up her back was just barely touching her, and Áine was glad for it. With the pleasure withdrawing from her mind, the pains returned and made themselves known. In her abdomen there was a pressure where the hunter had punched her. Likely a swell where she was bruised. She sighed under her breath, and finally moved off him, his now softened member popping out of her while cum followed. Slumping down next to him on her side, too exhausted to move or arrange herself any differently, Áine simply pulled one of the furs over her naked form.
Her grey eyes moved up to watch him for a few minutes while they grew heavier, and sleep soon found her and tucked her into the safety of its embrace. Beside her, she could still hear Lothar’s slow and deep breaths, even in her sleep. And somehow it offered a small comfort to know she wasn’t entirely alone in this place.
@Nakachu
The next morning things were back to usual business. Lothar had already risen before Anja found herself waking up and she was collected not soon after to get back to her work. Grainne was already there and was washing another fresh basket of musky and sweaty clothes. It was gross how sweaty and dirty some of them got. This time she was working on a basket of blooded ones from the hunters and she knew it was going to take forever to go through.
As Anja joined her once again in the water she looked up for a moment and instead of her usual smile she just kind of scoffed before she bend further down to the water and really got her back into those stains. She picked up another one from the basket and threw it her way so she could get started as well.
“I would ask if you were alright after your beat up yesterday..” she then started. “But judging by the sounds coming from Lothar’s tent you are doing just fine.” She said. It became instantly clear that was perhaps what Grainne was upset about. After all the talk they had had about being forced and her want to escape, it had simply hit a raw spot for Grainne.
@ShadowCat
Áine simply rose an eyebrow at the fellow Gaeilge woman, noting the bitterness in her voice and the
dismissiveness in her demeanor. She sat down next to her by the river, taking the clothes Grainne tossed her way. Submerging them in the water to let them soak a little, she shrugged.
“Do you often sneak around Lothar’s tent at night?”
Her hands began working the clothes, seeing the dirt and residue of blood wash off them and be swept away by the current of the water. Rubbing them together in her hands, she sighed and glanced towards her ‘companion’, inhaling sharply and holding her breath. The question burned at the tip of her tongue, but she was fearful of the answer and wasn’t sure she wanted to know. But still, she couldn’t shake her fears and the feeling that she needed not know, no matter how grim the answer may be. Exhaling the pent up breath hard, she decided to just dive in and brace herself.
“Grainne? What happens to claimed slaves once their masters tire of them?”
@Nakachu
“I do when someone just gotten beat up by a hunter..” she said, really putting a bit of her anger into those clothing. Luckily they could handle it just fine since they were rough leathers. She was cursing herself for getting attached to the small woman. It was just nice to have someone to spend the day with and in general they had gotten along. But hearing those obvious moans of pleasure coming from that tent had ticked her off a little bit. But of course she didn’t have much ground to stand on, she was just still, jealous? Perhaps.
As Anja asked her next question she looked over towards her with one eyebrow raised. “He is not growing tired of you.” She simply said with another small scoff. “He wouldn’t have defending you if he was. He took the tongue of one of his man just to show the rest not to mess with you.” She said. She was finally satisfied with the way the stain had come out of the leather she had worked on and adjusted it to get to the next one, rubbing over it with a rough brush. “But to answer your question. They get tossed back to the common slaves. And just like the common slaves, they usually don’t last very long.” She said, referring to how most of the woman from her village had already perished. Being a common slave meant that even the lowest ranks could have their way with you and there was only so much a female body could handle.
“So.. what you want to learn today? Want to know how to tell him you like his cock?” She chuckled softly.
@ShadowCat
Listening in silence to Grainne, Áine washed the leathered clothes in her hands, her small hands soon cold and pale from the river water. Her hair fell slightly over her shoulder when she leaned forward. She caught glimpses of her own reflection in the water and saw the purple bruise on her own cheekbone. Thankfully the man had not hit her eye, and the bruise was moderately swollen.
Grainne’s words were somewhat comforting, and still not. But she didn’t comment on it further and kept her fears to herself. Instead, she smirked a little at the woman’s quip, choking down a chuckle. “Sure, if that’s something you think he would want to hear? But what I want to know the most is why Lothar hates you so much. What did you do to him?”
This time her hands lowered a little and she turned to look fully at Grainne, her grey eyes searching the woman's one eye for answers. “Lothar doesn’t treat anyone with the same animosity as he does you.”
@Nakachu
At the next question Grainne’s eye shot up to Anja. She was obviously not happy with that question. Her eyebrows knit together and she once more scoffed as she looked down at her hands again. “Doesn’t matter.” She said quickly, clearly not wanting to speak about it.
But after a few minutes of silence the sighed and opened her mouth. “First off, he doesn’t like me because when I was captured I actually took the life of one of his men.” She started. “It was pure luck on my part, I just happened to find a weapon on the ground as I was raped and drove it into their neck and hit the right veins.” She explained. “I was one of the first slave who actually managed to get a kill.” She once more started to agressively rub at the leathers. “I was beat up for it and raped by Lothar himself as a way of learning my place before he tossed me in the middle of the square for the night and let anyone have their way with me. I barely survived the night.”
She straightened her back, stretching herself out a bit more. “But I don’t think that is why he hates me.” She admitted. “I think he just does not like how I have made my own place within the camp. Of all the slaves who cower and do as they are told.. I stand straight and go against what I am being said to do. I find the limits of what I can get away with.”
@ShadowCat
Áine had returned to her washing while Grainne spoke, grey eyes flicking sideways at the tall woman every now and then. There had to be more to the story. Lothar didn’t seem like a vindictive person who would hate someone for having a bit of defiance in them She wasn’t buying the story, but if that was the story Grainne was willing tell -at least for now- then that was the story Áine would get.
She also found it hard to believe that Lothar would feel so intimidated by a woman who refused to break after that kind of abuse. If anything, these brutes should have seen the strength in Grainne and accept her more for it. Not treat her like an unwanted rodent. Furthermore, Grainne was resentful towards Áine for her place with Lothar, even if she should hate Lothar with equal fury. Something didn’t add up in this story.
With a sigh, she inspected the leathers in her hands and found them acceptably clean, putting it away only to take a new set of clothes to dunk and soak in the river. A long pause of silence stretched between the women on the riverbank, the air between them only broken by the sounds of their washing.
“So how do you say ’I like your cock’ in their language?” Áine asked after many minutes, snickering a little.
@Nakachu
While the girls were doing their duties in the river, Lothar was already on his way through the camp again. He had gone with the hunters in the morning to speak about the animals that were around the encampment and their succes in hunting them. They didn’t care much about overhunting the area, they were going to move on soon anyway.
After that it was time for his usual meeting. Trustund and Amastan both gathered as well as some of the other higher ranked among the clan. He sat on the head of the table, a big wooden chair with furs sprawled over it while the rest of them sat near the sides of the table. There was a crude map on the table of the general area with all kind of markings on top. It stood for villages, discovered or raided, as well as for where their camps had been or where the others raiding clans were as far as they knew.
“The hunters are having plenty succes in the woods to keep everyone fed for now. The livestock from the village is slowly being retrieved from the mountains as well.” He spoke to them, big boots leaning on the table. “Have other villages been located yet?” He asked. One of the men spoke up and said that the scouts had found two potential villages, one bigger then the other. Both seemed proper for raiding for food and livestock, though other supplies might be low for them. “Alright..” he spoke.
He then turned to Amastan. “Any complaints that were heard in the camp after the punishment for Kolgar?” He asked him.
@ShadowCat
Amastan sat on one of the wooden chairs close to Lothar, poised in his own form with a straight back and one hand leaning on his knee. His long hair fell down his back, pulled away from his face so not to disrupt his vision. Instead of a leather harness, he was wearing a linen shirt with a wide V-neck and untied strings, pilfered from the latest raid. It was comfortable and something different but suited him well enough in this climate.
Brown eyes were gazing upon the map on the table with a calm and detached expression. Their scouts had done some good footwork despite the forested terrain and the unpredictable topography of these lands. The two mentioned villages should not be difficult to take over.
When Lothar addressed him, he rolled one of his shoulders in slight annoyance. His eyes slowly moved over to their leader. “None,” he said calmly with a deep voice. “The boy knows his mistake. As do the hunters. Two clan marked slaves will keep him company at nights to make sure he stays clear of fever.”
The slaves keeping the hunter company might seem like a reward of sorts, but Amastan knew the clan couldn’t afford to have anyone else keep watch over the boy. So, it fell to the slaves to watch over him. A slight smirk crossed his lips, however and his expression turned speculative while he looked at Lothar. “Your slave shook it off. Judging by the sounds coming from your tent, she shook it off good.”
@Nakachu(edited)
“Good.” He spoke simply as he drank from his cup. “We can not afford to lose a hunter with his talent. If we could I would have taken more then just the bastards tongue.” He spoke, it obviously still bothered him what had happened. Just seeing Anja this morning with the bruise blooming purple on her cheek had been enough to make him angry all over again. If not for the memories of the night before, he would have probably been in a much worse mood.
“I want to utilize the slaves talents for the clan as well.” He then spoke up. “We always treat them like they are only good for the lowest chores that the clan can offer, but it has come to me lately that some of them have more knowledge then we give them credit for.” He spoke. He grabbed a hold of one of the daggers that Anja had sharpened and stabbed it into the wooden table. It easily stood up. He then took a bit of horsehair and let it go past the blade, which easily cut it in half. “My slave worked on that.” He said, not calling her name as that would be inappropriate. “I want her to show me what else she can do. If we can wield sharp weapons instead of tossing the dull ones in the rivers. We could be even more powerful then we are now.” He spoke. “And she is not the only one. Tortrund’s slave can translate for locals, she speaks both languages. And Kothar’s slave seems to have knowledge about tailoring. Perhaps she can make better more fitting clothing for the warriors.” He would look around the table, seeking opinions from his men on the subject.
@ShadowCat
Amastan listened to their leader’s suggestion, slowly reaching forward to pull the shard blade from the table and inspect it. He traced his thumb along the edge, testing the sharpness with a few barely noticeable nods of his head. A soft, inaudible sigh had his nostrils flare, and he gave Lothar a sidelong squint.
While the logic was sound, it didn’t sit well with him. They took slaves for free labor and enjoyment. But they were disposable and, in the end, no more than a nuisance. If Lothar made his slave or any other slave indispensable to the clan, it would give them power over their masters.
“You let your slave work with weapons?” His voice rumbled with the mixture of disapproval and the conflict of understanding the logics behind it. Raising the knife, he pointed the handle edge at the man he had fought and later served to protect. “You trust a slave to not stab you in the back? One more incident like the one yesterday and she might sink this sharp blade into your chest while you sleep. So would any other slave in this camp, given the chance.”
“How do you plan on controlling her? Or anyone else you give such power to?” he continued, seeing the rage build in Lothar’s eyes but not stopping until he had made his point across. There was a reason Lothar kept himself and Tustrund as advisors and right and left hands. “Just because she pleases you in bed does not mean she is loyal to you or anyone else here.”
His gaze shifted to Tustrund, inclining his head in the direction of the man. “As for your slave, she is as unreliable as they come. I watch her and Lothar’s slave by the river. They are bonding. They might be scheming. She has murdered one of our own before. Don’t tell me she won’t do it again, because we both know that she will.”
@Nakachu
His eyes narrowed at Amastan, it was obvious that he was not happy about the sudden outburst that had been aimed his way. Or perhaps he did not like how the word slave ran off his tongue as the warrior addressed her. “I will let it be known that the first time the girl had a weapon it was one of the skinning knives that you handed her.” He reminded him. “She sharpened it herself, showed it to me when we were alone. She could have stabbed me perhaps, but she did not.” He said to him.
He shifted his body, leaning more to the front of his knees instead of hanging back in the tent. “The only time she had acces to a weapon was within my tent while I was watching her. You sit here daring to claim that I was neglegtent of my own safety and I will not stand for that.” He said with a gritted jaw. “I am here trying to rise this clan above the others and I am telling you that she is one of the ways that we can do this. If she is our slave, why not use her in the best way we can? She would only work while watched, I am not giving her acces to tools on her own. One little incident, one time caught with a knife she should not have or anything else and I will put a blade to her neck myself.” He assured the men in that room.
“As for Trustrund’s slave. I am talking about making her translate important information. I am talking about making her translate the treats that we shout at them that now don’t make a single dent. To translate the orders that are given out instead of trying to make ourselves known by hands and feet. I am talking about efficiency here.”
@ShadowCat
Amastan shifted too, swapping what hand he leaned on his knee. He had a slow and deliberate way of moving, powerful muscles rippling under his skin. Some would regard him as a man of pride, perhaps needing to compensate for the loss against Lothar. But he had taken the loos with as much pride as he would take a win, graciously admitting to his inferiority opposed to their leader.
Dark brown eyes still held that speculative squint, however, and a rumbling chuckle filled his lungs. “Would you trust Tustrund’s slave to translate correctly? The moment she sees a chance at freedom, how can you be sure she will not sputter information about our camp or people?”
Again, his eyes found Tustrund, questioning this time. “You could have her teach you or one of the wives instead. It takes longer, but this way we are not putting our success or the safety of our clan at risk. All it takes is for one survivor to get away with information your slave could give, and we would find ourselves in an ambush.”
He slowly looked back at Lothar, giving him a small inclination of his head. “How you control your slave is your business. If you watch her, you will know if she steps out of line. But such knowledge does not come easy with words spoken in a tongue we do not understand. I do not fear for myself, but we have children here. I will NOT watch them slain over a slave’s betrayal.”
As the words left his mouth, Amastan knew it to the deepest part of his bones that he would not ever relent on this subject. “At least make sure someone who also understands her language accompanies her. Someone loyal from our own clan. She knows Tustrund the most.”
@Nakachu
Lothar was not above taking advice from his men and he would let Amastan talk and get his own feelings out into the open. And he did make good points, he was not going to discredit him for that. Yet his suggestions seemed to solve no issues at all.
“What makes you believe that she will teach Tortrund correctly?” Lothar question. “If her translating wrong is the concern, then surely that solves nothing.” He said a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “At least when she translates you can be sure that she is conveying the message by the reaction of the slaves. But that being said, be my quest and get her to teach you. About time one of us knew how to speak to them.” He offered.
“I am keeping the health and safety of the clan in my mind as a priority. But I do not think that we should stay back in our development for that. I want us to rise to new heights, I want to keep us moving forward and I believe this can get us there.”
“We shall give it a shot and come back to this to see if it works or not. I am not above hearing your feedback. And I am also not above your ideas, so please voice them.”
@ShadowCat
He stilled his worries and met Lothar's gaze steadily, knowing that this bickering offered no solutions. Lothar had always had a pragmatism to him that had served the clan well for many years already. These imagined what-if's raised valid concerns, but a solution would likely not be found until the moment such a what-if situation were to unfold. Snd if it was to happen, Amastan would not hesitate to separate any slave's head from her body. That be a claimed slave or not. For the prosperity and longevity of their clan triumphed above all else.
A stoic smirk crossed his lips, looking between his male company. Both men would find themselves without a slave if his concerns came true. And both men would find themselves discredited in the eyes of the clan if their actions and misplaced trust brought harm upon them. Perhaps it was better to simply allow it all to unfold and sit back and watch.
"You are right, brother," he confirmed Lothar's words. "But I have no patience for the wench and should she anger me I cannot guarantee her safety. I would not rob Tustrund of a slave he values if I can avoid it."
@Nakachu
“It has been decided then.” He said as he finally sat back again, the tension out of the room now that he had made his decisions. His men would respect it, at least till a point where it was proven to have failed and then they would question it as hard as they could. Making him admit his mistakes. And if they were bad enough, challenge his leadership.
“Tustrunt, learn her language best you can. I do not want to see you not by her side unless you have tasks to complete for the clan. I don’t care if you fuck her all day, as long you learn.” He spoke. “Amastan. While Krogar heals I want you to join the hunters on patrols. Find out what you can about the surrounding villages. The moment they take in the harvest we strike.” With that he got up from his seat again, deciding this meeting to be closed. “I am going down to the river to wash.” He announced, letting them know where he would be.
With that he made his way out the tent and made his way down the hill till he reached the mouth of the river. Without much care he stripped himself down from his clothes and laid them on a rock till he was in nothing but the skin he was born in. He pulled the leather strap from his hair, letting the locks frame his face before he went into the water, letting the cold brush against his skin as he breathed out.
@ShadowCat
"Help. Stop. Wait. Listen. Watch…." Áine muttered under her breath, trying to repeat and remember the words Grainne was teaching her. She worked the leathery clothes in the river with a little more efficiency than she had the first days, but she was still far slower than Grainne. "Slow…down?" Her grey eyes glanced sideways at Grainne for confirmation, receiving a nod in return. "Hurry…"
She sighed and rolled her shoulders, bending her head from one side to another while she stretched, stiff from compensating so her bruised abdomen and back wouldn't hurt. Pausing, her grey eyes drifted upriver where she saw the tall and long haired man leave the camp along with a handful of -judging my the bows on their backs- hunters. She inclined her head towards them. "Who is that man? One of Lothar's closest?" she asked Grainne, following them with her eyes until they silently disappeared into the forest on the other side of the river.
"He stepped in and stopped the beating yesterday."
@Nakachu
Grainne’s one eye would come up to look at what she was pointing at. She saw the long waves of Amastan’s hair as he walked off. He was the only one who kept his hair that long. Most found it troublesome during fighting, but Amastan seemed to take some kind of pride in it.
“Yes, that is Amastan. He is second in command along with Trustund.” She explained to her as she stretched out her back for a second before getting another piece, they were starting to make process on the baskets that needed to be done. “He lost to Lothar for the leadership role of the clan. Some say he still holds a grudge over that, but if he does he hides it very well.” She spoke.
As she leaned back once more her eye scanned over the river. The mouth of the river was not far away and in the distance she could see Lothar getting in the water to bath himself. Grainne couldn’t help the soft smile on her face. “You can say what you want about him.. but if he had walked into my village with good intention I would have been all over that body.” She said, trying to start some small girl talk. She missed the simple life. As much as she had expected being a slave in the camp she missed those days where they were just giddy about who they would marry or who the the hottest boy in town was. And even if Anja and her had their differences.. she was probably her only friend.
@ShadowCat
She followed Grainne's eyes, spotting Lothar wade into the river. Even at this distance she could make out the powerful muscles underneath his skin, ripping as he moved with measured strength. "Maybe…" Her eyes dipped lower and saw his nakedness, stomach dropping a little at the size of it even when hanging limp, likely shrunken by the cold of the water. "I wouldn't wish my first time upon anyone though. He hurts. At least he did."
Her gaze drifted back to Grainne's face, seeing the woman's smile and almost endearing look on her face. "Were you promised to marry when they took you away? Anyone special that held your heart?"
Áine herself had not been. And she'd made it clear to her father she was in no hurry and wanted to make the choice herself. A choice he had respected. It had suited him just fine, since Áine was learning his trade.
Looking back to Lothar she couldn't deny he was attractive. Very much so. His face, even when set in a hard expression that could freeze her to the bones, had defined and clear features that sat well together. His body was proportionally large in all ways, his demeanor radiated authority and confidence. Trying to imagine it, if Lothar had strolled into her village like a normal person and with good intentions, if she'd been interested in him.
Coming to a harrowing conclusion that yes, she probably would be, she chuckled. "He'd still scare the living out of me though."
She sighed at Anja’s question. “I was.” She admitted. “Thought perhaps that was the only part of being taken that I did not mind that much. I was promised to the butchers son. He was brutal and fat and mean.” She explained. “I don’t think my life with him would have been much better then here. He would take his time slaughtering the animal when it came to it. It was horrifying to watch. Nobody sane in their mind would do that.” She said, a shudder running down her spine as she talked about it. “I believe you right away when you say things with Lothar were not good to start. But at least he seems gentle with you. Compared to many others here that is.” She flashed her a quick smile that faded just as fast.
She had just finished her talk when a familiar whistle rang the air, at least familiar to her. She looked over her shoulder, Trustund standing by the water’s edge. ”You are done for today.” He spoke to her in the crude language that they spoke. ”I am not finished.” She said decidedly and with confusion in her voice. ”Don’t care. Come.” He said, his tone irritable and with no patience. Grainne looked towards Anja quickly before getting up from the rock she had been sitting on and making her way to the shore. The moment she got there Trustund grabbed her by the arm and roughly pushed her out in front of him, almost making her trip, but she kept hr ground. Trustund was not the most gentle man in camp. He had a shot temper and his behavior was heavily reliant on his mood that day. It seemed today was a bad one.
@ShadowCat
Áine shot to her feet as Trustrund grabbed Grainne's arm with needless force, the grip most likely painful. She would say something, do something, if she thought it would make a difference. Instead she was left there to watch apathetically while Grainne was pushed ahead of the man as they disappeared between the tents of the camp.
Sighing and looking over the now much larger pile of clothes she had to clean, she sat down on the river rock and continued her work, hands now working with angered movements.
"Idiot brutish moron…" she muttered while she focused on her task. "She'll come back bruised and beaten tomorrow…" As the words left her mouth, the image wasn't far away in her mind and she shook her head. Would it really kill them to treat their captives with some dignity? Have some compassion? Likely a ludicrous idea to them, too set in their barbaric ways.
Stop it… don't think about it. Grainne can handle herself, Áine forced herself to think while she tossed the clean leather into a basket and grabbed a new set of dirty ones. "Village… camp…" she started muttering again, recanting the words taught to her.
@Nakachu
Meanwhile down the river Lothar was just taking his time. It was the best part about being the leader of the clan, when he needed time to himself he could just take it. And having that cold river water cool down her skin felt nice. Lothar had always ran hot, he preferred the colder climate of where he came from, but there was nothing he could do about that. At last the nights were cool around here.
As he did bathe his mind wandered to the conversation he had held with his men before. Was he taking this to far? Was he trusting a slave that would give everything to kill him? His eyes followed the river, finding Anja sitting on the rock with the clothing that needed to be watched. His eyes intense and focussed even at this distance. No, she was different.. He choose to believe that. She could have stabbed him with that knife she had taken and sharpened. She could have smothered him in his sleep, or at least attempted to. She could have kept fighting her while he took her..
Just the thoughts of the night before was enough to wake his arousal, his length slowly starting to stand from his hips. He splashed himself with more cold water but it was no use. He could still hear the melodic sound of her moans that had rang the air, could remember the feeling of her pulsing around his manhood as she had pulled every drop of his seed from him. Such a unique feeling..
@ShadowCat
She lost herself in her work, keeping her mind busy with remembering foreign the words she needed to learn if she was to survive this place. Some slaves may be fine with not communicating with their captors, but not Áine. She needed to be heard, understood, and she needed to understand. Her small hands were almost constantly submerged in the river stung from the cold, the water not warming up much as it was in constant movement. It nipped at her skin and crept into her very knuckles.
Every now and then, her eyes could not help themselves and travelled down to Lothar’s form where he bathed. One of the times she glanced towards him, she caught a glimpse of his aroused member before he lowered his hips into the water to submerge it. One of her eyebrows rose, wondering what and why. But was it really any of her business?
Wringing out the water from a clean piece of leather, she threw it in the growing pile clothes ready to be dried and took another dirty one. It was menial work, brain numbing and boring. But at least she got to work in peace and by herself. At least she got to enjoy being on the outskirt of the camp and watch the scenery. It had only been a week, but the wear and tear on the environment form Lothar’s people had already made itself known.
She wondered if they had a place or a land they called home. And where those lands may be. His language wasn’t like anything she had heard before. His people were generally tall, even the wives, dark hair and eyes seemed to be the domineering overall features amongst them. Her eyes again trailed downriver to Lothar’s form, and this time she caught him looking back at her. Sharp eyes met her own, assessing her from a distance while he simply just stood there with the water up to his thighs.
@Nakachu
He had believed that the bath would eventually numb his mind and relief his body from the needs that it had seemed to decide it wanted. Yet even with the cold water rushing past his stiff member, it did not want to die down. Not with her so close by, so available. Had it been any other slave he would simply have walked over, grabbed her by the arm and done her right there by the river. So why wasn’t he? Why was he preferring the privacy of his tent over the public displays that had never bothered him before? The truth was probably jealousy, not wanting others to share if her beauty, in her moans. He wanted them to exist only for him. But jealousy was not a word that existed in Lothar’s life and because of that these feeling were new and foreign.
He submerged a few times, getting the last of the dirt away from his skin and out of his hair. The wet thick strands framing the side of his face as he rubbed the excess water from it. He looked back towards her once more and their eyes met from across that river. His arousal still standing from his hips, making it obvious where his mind was. His hand came up from the water, a finger pointing towards her before it moved to beckon her towards him. A clear command given without words.
@ShadowCat
Seeing Lothar's very clear and inaudible command, Áine stopped the washing and sat there for a few seconds, looking back at him in wonder. Not once during the week she'd been here had he approached her or tried to communicate with her during the day. Even if she saw him in the camp, he barely looked in her direction. Confusion rolled in on her as she slowly stood and dropped the wet clothes in her hand into a basket. Lothar was still watching her, as if he reinforced his order by the sternness of his gaze.
Glancing around, she saw that for the time being no one was looking in her direction. Everyone was busy tending to their own tasks. Her grey eyes shifted back to Lothar and she began slowly making her way towards him, wary of his intentions.
She didn't step into the water, but stopped on the river bank, meeting his eyes.
@Nakachu
His eyes would follow her movements as she came closer and closer to him. He made no motions for himself to meet her halfway, wanting her to come to this side of the river with him. It was perhaps not out of sight completely, but it was more hidden from view from the main encampment.
Once she did reach near him and waiting on the riverbank he would come towards her. Waterdrops were still gliding down his musculair frame and when his hand reached out to touch her the skin was colder then it usually was. He reached for the straps of her leather tunic, starting to move them from her shoulders while the other started to lift it up. "Bathe.." he said, then added another word. "Wash." He wasn't sure what words she had learned, but he knew she was learning from somewhere. Not all words she had spoken had been said between them. He suspected the washing with Grainne had something to do with it.
Even if she protested he would move the top over her head, revealing her naked skin to the world. He didn't even care about it and his hands soon found the rim of her skirt as well. He pulled her closer, causing her feet to go into the cool water as he watched her eyes. "Clean." He tried another word, wanting her to understand what he wanted.
@ShadowCat
She stood still as Lothar waded out of the river, the water splashing around his powerful thighs as he moved through it with measured and determined steps. Her grey eyes held no small amount of admiration for his form, agreeing with Grainne's words earlier. He was a prime example of male physique at its best.
As soon as Lothar's hand reached out to untie the straps on her tunic, she stepped away with surprise in her eyes, quickly looking around for prying eyes. Here? Now? "No…" the word slipped from her mouth easily and with the soft accent of her own language.
She understood his words, most of them. He wished her to bathe. Áine would wash herself in the river, but with discretion and not fully undressing as she did. Once the top of her leather tunic was removed, ripped from her pale form and over her head rather abruptly and without heeding her refusal, she hid her breasts behind her arm. She wasn't shy in private with him. But this wasn't private. Anyone could come walking through the camp, the river was well used for all purposes.
Her feet plumping into the cold water, Lothar pulling her closer in full disregard of her denial, Áine pulled back again. "No." Her mind frantically searched for words she knew to make him understand. But all it did was to annoy him, large hands working to untie the straps of her skirt with harsher movements. Equally annoyed now, she stared up at him with defiance.
He did indeed not approve of her words and his hands would continue to work on her. They were far enough away to be considered private in his eyes. There were no prying eyes anywhere near them and he even turned them so that his back protected her from view of the campsite. "Yes." He spoke to her, his voice showing not even a hint of changing his mind. So he simply continued with the skirt till it was removed from her frame as well and tossed in into the sand near the shoreline.
He pulled her closer to him, bringing her to a deeper part of the river. Slowly her body would submerge in the water till the form that she was so worried of showing was hidden underneath the cold water. All the while his eyes would look at her with both desire and adoration for her. A wet hand coming up to brush over her buttom lip. Even if she was mostly submerged he was only in the water to his chest because of his height. A hand came over her body, strubbing over her arms with the roughness of it to clean her from dirt from the camp. "Bathe." He once more said to her.
@ShadowCat
Áine huffed in indignation and exasperation as Lothar was entirely undeterred by her protest. She wasn't outright fighting him, knowing it was a fight she'd lose very fast and likely pathetically. Pulling her naked form to him and almost lifting her off the ground enough so she couldn't struggle, he waded them both backwards into the river. The water was cold, making her gasp and flail in his grip as it reached her sensitive parts, moving up her stomach and chest.
It wasn't until he stopped where she could barely reach the bottom with her toes, her chin above water, that she looked back up into his eyes. He was still holding her, still preventing her from trying to break free. Furthermore he could easily dunk her head underwater and hold her there if she was to anger him.
But as she gazed up into his green eyes, it wasn't anger she saw. They were dark with the look of passion she had learned to recognize, but something else too. Something that had her still as he rubbed her arms. Áine has seen that look, in her father's eyes as he had looked at their mother in stolen moments when they thought the girls weren't looking.
Lifting her hands to his shoulders, she raised herself on the water until they were at eye-level with each other. Her grey eyes were questioning.
"Bathe?" She asked, replicating the slight increase at the end of the word that signalled it was a question and not just a statement. Did he really intend for them to just bathe?@Nakachu
As she seemed to finally stop struggling against him and just be there with him he let his grip go on her just slightly. He felt those hands hold into his shoulders, pulling herself out of the water a little bit. He could feel her legs brushing against his as she asked her question. He nodded to her. “Yes.” He said to her. Even if he was aroused, it was different with her. Other slaves would have been on the sandy shore, their faced pushing into it as he took them from behind, but her. It was different in a way he could not explain. He wanted to just be there with her, share this time with her. The cold baths in the river was something that he enjoyed and usually he choose to do it by himself. So to invite her in to that space, it was more out of character then Anja would probably think.
To show his point he would then dunk himself under, letting the water reach over his head before he pulled back up again. He wiped his wet hair out of his face and shook some of the worst out of it. Then wiping down his face as the waterdrops leaked down through his bird and falling from the two small braids that always seemed present there. “Bathe with me.” He tried, not sure if sentences worked with her just yet, his eyes once more on her.
@ShadowCat
'...With me.' Those were words Áine understood. She watched him for many seconds, treading the water a little, hopping off the river bottom with her toes every now and then to keep herself above the surface.
Then she suddenly kicked off, swimming a few slow strokes away from him towards a deeper part where she couldn't stand on the bottom anymore. With a faint, almost teasing glint in her eyes she inhaled deep and then disappeared beneath the surface. Swimming in a circle around him, Áine kept to the bottom of the river. Although her red hair was likely a beacon and he'd be able to see her through the water anyways.
Emerging again on the other side of him, she looked with amusement at him, wondering if he was a good swimmer or not.
Then sudden noises upriver caught her attention and she turned. It seemed that her abandoning her work had finally caught someone's attention, two of the males who would oversee the slaves stood there, saying something while one of them pointed to the abandoned baskets. They looked around, and finally spotted her further down the stream. They moved and came walking towards her.
Without thinking about it, Áine immediately swam back to Lothar and more or less hid behind him. The two men stopped on the riverbank and said something. She only recognized the words 'slave', 'work' and 'wash'.
@Nakachu
He would watch her with the same kind of amusement. The moment the water drenched her hair the red in it would pop out even more, making her a beautiful red cloud that moved through the clear water. He watch it with almost a grin on his face, turning along in her circle as he watched her long slender legs kick her off.
It was only when the uproar started that the smile went away from his own face as well. The stoic expression returning as they came closer. "Why are you keeping the slave from her work? She still has a shit load to wash and the other one is nowhere to be found either." They said to Lothar, clearly irritated. He didn't mind Anja hiding behind him, if anything he stepped in front of her more.
"She is my claimed slave. I am free to do with her how I wish!" He barked at them. "What about the washing." The youngest one dared. Lothar'a scowl turned worse. Was he cutting another tongue this week? The tension in his shoulders building right there. "Find others to do it. You have plenty of slaves to keep busy. Or do you forget what happened to the last one who touched what was mine?" He reminded them. They both looked at each other and seemed to decide it was not worth it to face the wrath of their leader. They turned their backa and left again.
Lothar just grunted and spit away from him somewhere in the river, clearly more irritated now then the relaxed form he had moments ago. "Fucking youngsters.. ought to teach them. They are not even old enough to claim their own.." he muttered even if Anja didn't understand much of what he said. It was always he young ones who had an attitude. Till you taught them their place.
@ShadowCat
Paying attention to the exchange between Lothar and the two men, Áine was trying to listen for familiar words. But there were few. Whatever was said between them however, the men took their leave. Once Lothar turned to look at her again, she saw his agitation, heard how his voice had deepened along with the dip of his scowl. She swam closer and put her hand on his shoulder, again raising herself in the water so she could look eye-to-eye at him.
"Me," she used her hand to point, first at herself then at him. "Your slave. Not work?"
She hadn't properly learned how to make sentences or proper grammar. Hoping he would understand she was questioning why he didn't have her work, her grey eyes moved between his.
Around them, the sounds of the river dulled out most other sounds, winds above the treetops making them sway slightly. Looking over his shoulder and back up the river, she saw that two other girls had been tasked to finish her chores.
@Nakachu
She stared down at her as she tried to form a sentence for him to understand. It took him a moment to get what she was trying to say. His eyebrows knitting together as he pieced it together before eventually understanding what she meant. “Not now.” He said to her as a hand came forward to caress her cheek and lift her to look at him if she wasn’t already. “You are mine.” He spoke to her, a hint of lust hidden in the deepness of his voice. “You do.” He said pointing at her, before pointing at him. “What I want.” He tried to keep the sentences easy even if he was perhaps still overwhelming her. He didn’t care a single moment that the other slaves now had to do her tasks. He had wanted to bathe with her and it was his right to claim her to do that with, no matter if she was done with her task or not.
He would pull her even closer, her body flush against him, his length swimming against her stomach as he claimed her mouth for his. Rough, coarse hairs of his bears scratching against her skin as he claimed her lips and tasted the sweet taste of her. He groaned into her mouth, voicing his approval of her taste. He wanted her, he wanted the same thing that they had the night before. Where she was moaning for him and her body taking him so willingly. It had been a mesmerizing feeling. And as he broke their kiss his eyes would tell her exactly that. Speaking of the intense need inside him that she could likely not refuse, but perhaps guide.
@ShadowCat
Indecisive about how to feel or react to his possessive nature, words so firmly cementing his ‘ownership’ of her, Áine grimaced a little. He sure had the power to have her do anything he wanted, whenever he wanted. But he had also been less forceful with her after she figured out how to deflect that need to just hold her down and take.
She returned the kiss when he pulled her in for it, her plump small lips dancing along to his lead. Her tongue snaked along his bottom lip as if asking for entry, and he was all too happy to oblige and take possession of her mouth. Exploring every part of her and what she could give, he didn’t pull away for a long time. Áine could certainly feel his arousal, the thick member prodding against her stomach. One good thing about water was the weightlessness, and she pulled herself up on him enough that his member slid down to rest against her sex. One of her legs hooked onto his hip and wrapped around him to hold herself there.
When he broke the kiss and simply just watched her with his eyes darkened with need, Áine shuddered a little in excitement. She didn’t like the lack of privacy, but at the same time it was exciting and a little daring to give herself to him out here. Even if no one would see, the thought that someone could has her stomach drop in a mixture of shyness and a strange eagerness of her own. She moved a little so her sex rubbed against his member, before leaning in on him to nibble at his neck.
“Here?” she asked, again replicating the rise at the end of the word that would signal it was a question.
@Nakachu
He grunted deep in approval as she wrapped those small legs around him and let his member rub against her. He could feel the heat of her against the tip of his manhood, her sex such a stark contrast against the cold of the water that surrounded them. As her mouth came to his neck and nibbled at the skin there he throbbed against her as he once more groaned in approval of her actions
His hand would snake into her wet hair and pull her away from his neck. “Yes. Here.” He spoke to her before he pressed his lips against hers once more, an eager kiss that spoke of his desires for her. His other hand would come around her hips and press her hips into him as he thrusted himself against her sex, rubbing between her lips and legs, feeling the warmth of her against him. Her frame so small and light against him in the water. Not that he normally had trouble to move her how he wanted.
The thrusting soon became more eager, the need to enter her growing with every passing second between them. The cold of the water seeming to disappear around them as the heat between them grew. The water around them starting to make sounds from the movements that they made inside of it. His tongue still claiming the depth of her mouth.
Finally he could not hold himself back anymore and his hand in her hair would pull her back from him so she had to look him in the eyes. He moved his other hand around his length pressed his tip against her entrance. His eyes searched hers, dark and passionate as they stared into her. Seeking her approval of what was about to befall between them.
@ShadowCat
Áine let herself be pulled closer into a kiss, feeling the hardness of his member rub and prod against her entrance as Lothar sought to prepare her. The cold water was not helping her own arousal, but the warmth radiating off him did. Her lips danced against his, pressed firmly against him as he took possession of her mouth, seeking to retake the possession of her body as well.
When he pulled her head back to break off the kiss, he caught her eyes in his own with a smoldering stare. Áine knew she couldn’t very well reject him. Just attempting it would likely not end well for her, seeing the passion and need in his eyes. She wanted to hate him. Hate him for what he and his people had done to her family, her village, and her. Yet the hatred wasn’t that white and intense glow she would have thought it to be. It was a small fire kept at bay and conflicting with her desire for him as a man in addition to her needing him for her own survival.
Her grey eyes perhaps conveyed some of these emotions, that hidden fire within her resurfacing in moments like these where she had no options to speak of. Her leg hooked on waist tightened around him as his grip in her hair pulled her down onto his member. She wasn’t ready yet -the entry more forced than she would have preferred, whatever natural lubricant she had was washed away by the river stream. Her hands on his shoulders grabbed him harder, her lips parted in a sound mixing between approval and discomfort. Each small thrust let him a little deeper, guided by him pulling her down on himself as if coaxing his way into her and forcing her to yield to the intrusion.
The dark and green intensity of his eyes became unbearable as he made his way deeper into her, and Áine eventually couldn’t stand the scrutiny and pulled herself close to his chest. She buried her face at the crook of his neck, biting lightly on his shin as a sorry excuse to hide. Her sounds of discomfort grew a little louder, but soon mixing with softer m
05:29
oans as he eased his own passage into her.
@Nakachu
The legs wrapping around his waist were taken as approval from her part and he would soon start to pull her small frame down into him. He could feel his length gliding into her, being met with more resistence then he had felt from her in a while. It made him grunt as he rocked his hips into her to find acces to the depth that he knew that she had for him.
Soon her face was in his neck and he could feel her teeth nipping at him, yet even he could tell that something was different and it frustrated him. Even the sound that came from her was not pleasing him in the slightest. Without much of a second choice from her part he suddenly pulled out of her again, a displeased expression on his face as he started to drag her out of the water with him.
Soon the water no longer covered her frame and neither did it his. It went down his chest till even his manhood was no longer covered by the waterline and soon dragged her out of the water and into the line of trees. He didn’t care about anything sharp that might be on the ground and simply walked her to one of the big and smooth trees and pressed her against it.
His body loomed over her as water still came from both their skins, his hand finding her breast as he looked down into her eyes. He tried to find words that she could understand, words that he could convey to her what he wanted. But he found few. The only attempt he had in the end was the following. “Pleasure?” Making it clear that it was a question, wanting to know if she enjoyed being with him.
@ShadowCat
At the sight of Lothar’s displeased expression as he dragged her out of the water, Áine stifled a fearful instinct that had her want to hold back and pull away. His thick eyebrows were tightly knitted in a downwards frown, an expression she knew forebode all things unpleasant. She stumbled on roots and rocks as he unceremoniously pulled her into the tree line, less concerned about her nudity now and more about her safety.
When he pushed her up against a tree and loomed over her so she couldn’t shy away from him, her arm raised to protect her head as if expecting to be hit. But he didn’t strike her, instead cupping one of her breasts in his hand. Many seconds passed before she dared to look at him again, meeting the intensity of his eyes with her own look of confusion. The word he spoke was new, but Grainne had said it in a joking manner. Pleasure?
Áine searched for words of her own, trying to pick the words she knew and put them together in a meaningful way. She wasn’t proficient enough to form full sentences yet, but she could put words together and in relation to one another so they gave meaning.
“Pleasure, if wet. Hurt… if dry…” she almost scoffed at her own attempts to explain. Frustrated that she even had to explain this to him in the first place. He’d taken her brutally with force the first time and a few times after that. He should know it would hurt if she wasn’t ready. Her grey eyes shone with that irritation, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to elaborate even though it shouldn’t be necessary.
“Hurt if not… warm, wet, pleasure?”
She looked up at his face, searching for any indication at all that he understood what she was trying to say or that he would perhaps care enough to realize her had hurt her many times already in his eagerness to just fuck her before she was ready for it.
@Nakachu
His eyes searched in hers as she spoke and tried to explain herself, but his eyebrows only seemed to be knitting together even tighter. The frustration that their language barrier was something that had annoyed him time and time again and this was once more an example of that.
He was sighing loudly as she explained herself, trapped against that tree in her naked state with him looming over her. He only pressed in closer to her, but eventually he was starting to get it. The times that she had seemed to enjoy it most she had been wet between her legs. Yet what he did not know was what was the difference between why she was one time and not the other.
“Why not wet?” He asked then, trying to keep his question simple and not over complicate it. “You don’t enjoy me?” Not knowing how to simplify that one to a point where he could make it clear to her. Meanwhile his hand would come up under one of her legs, raising it into the air to expose her sex to him and once more run his length alongside it without entering her.
@ShadowCat
Even though his hardening expression offered no comfort, she was ironically enough responding to him pressing against her. When he lifted her leg to hold the bend of her knee as he pushed his member a little against her sex, he incited that warmth from her that signaled a building arousal. Blinking while she still looked up at his face, she huffed a little in irritation of not understanding him and the fact that he seemed oblivious to how a woman’s pleasure worked.
It had never been more glaringly obvious to her that men of his people didn’t care about a woman’s pleasure in the act of sex -- only the man’s. But the fact that Lothar even bothered to ask had her irritation soften a little.
“If not wet… Give time. Give pleasure. Then wet.” To emphasize her point, she braved to take his free hand and guided it down her own body, steering his fingers to the small, hooded nub currently hiding at the top of her slit. He should remember how she’d reacted when he rubbed it. “Pleasure.” She said as she moved a little to make herself more available to his touch.
@Nakachu
He could feel that she was getting frustrated as well. But he was trying his hardest to understand her. To get what she was trying to say. But she didn't speak many words of his language and she spoke none of his.
Yet when she took his hand he let her take it and bring it to her sex. As his rough finger found that nub he could see the small shiver running up her body and his face softened a small bit.
He pushed her into the tree more, really pressing his body against her and trapping her against the smooth bark. His finger going over that spot with new found determination.
As he did he however took her other hand and wrapped it around his length, not standing for being left our in that moment. His masculinity and upbringing not allowing him to simply take the time to get her 'ready' if he didn't get something either.
"Show me your way." He groaned into her ear then. Wondering if she would even know.
@ShadowCat
Áine took his guidance to his member and wrapped her hand around its girth, slowly dragging it along his length. She was glad he seemed to understand, somewhat, and let herself be pressed up against the tree as he pinned her against it. The roughness of his fingers was rubbing a little harder than she would have preferred, but the effort was a success in her eyes. Out of the cold water, her limbs heated quickly and slight shivers raked down her body with the determined movements of his fingers.
Her hand moved along his member with soft ease. Using her thumb to catch a drop of precum leaking from him, she rubbed it around the tip of his member in a languid movement that had his abdominal muscles tense up. She leaned her head back against the tree and looked up at his face, seeing the dark but now less strict expression on his face.
It didn’t take long for the warmth in her to plumet down to her sex, readying her as the tension around his fingers’ movement spread through her groin. A hoarse moan fluttered over her lips, moving a little in rhythm with his fingers to show him he was doing it right.
@Nakachu
Slowly but surely he was starting to draw out those moans that he remembered from the night before. They were deeper, seeming to come from the very core of her instead of coming just from her throat. He bend forward then, trapping the side of her neck in his mouth and sucking and nipping roughly at her skin.
His hips moved back and forth in her hand, liking the feeling of her grip around him. Meanwhile his own hand kept working on her, kept circling the nub and trying to pay attention to how she responded to different things.
Eventually his hand would start to dip down and find her wet, something that made his eyes glint as he pulled back and stated back into her. His eyes looked at her with almost a curiosity as he spoke to her. "You are wet." He said to her as he ley their faces hover close. It wasn't a question yet he didn't move to force himself inside her once again. Perhaps because he was still enjoying thrusting into her small hand. Or perhaps he was still searching for some kind of permission that she could grant him. Or tell him it was no enough yet.
@ShadowCat
New shudders raked through her as Lothar seemed to grow more confident in how he used his fingers on her, altering between circling that hooded nub and stroking directly over it every now and then. Her breaths grew louder, tension building within her and around the delicious promise of a climax. When he moved to nip and bite at her neck, she made herself available by tilting her head slightly, his beard scraping and tickling her sensitive skin.
Her hand stroked him firmer, feeling the heated twitch and occasional jerk from the thick member in her hand. Every now and then his abs and pectoral muscles flexed as his breaths became heavier and matched her own. Áine could appreciate his ability to focus on what he was doing to her while simultaneously receiving pleasure like this.
When his fingers dipped down to trace the soft folds lining her entrance, her breaths staggered a little at the needful hunger of her sex. His comment shook her out of the slight dream-like state she was in, looking up to meet his gaze. “Yes,” she agreed, but made no other move to usher him to proceed. Her hand slowed the strokes of his member a little, returning to the teasing pulls that occasionally circled the head.
She wondered if he took her wetness as a sign that she was ready, or if he understood that she would be even more ready if he proceeded to give that sensitive little bundle of nerves more attention. If he understood the female orgasm, the actual meaning of pleasure at all.
@Nakachu
If Anja believed that he knew about the woman’s body during sex she would be proven wrong. Lothar had grown up learning to take what was his. Giving a woman pleasure was not in those teachings. In fact, for years he had probably believed that sex just simply was not pleasurable for the female sex, having seen the responses of woman as he took them as his reward after raids. It was only once he grew older that he started to grow bored with that way of life. Something had been missing for him, something that he could never have pinpointed.
It was with Anja that he had finally found it. The mutual desire that she had for him gave him new heights of pleasure and he would lie if he was not enjoying her pleasurable moans to the height. But in the core of his being, Lothar was still a being that had learned to take his pleasure where it was due. If she wished for him to learn about how to pleasure her, she would have a fair bit more to teach him.
So as a responds to her yes he pulled himself away from her hand and placed his tip against her entrance, pushing the head of him into her. Her sex accepted him more easy now, the slick folds wrapping tightly around him and making him groan. With shorts thrusts he buried himself deeper into her as his teeth once more found the skin of her neck, till eventually he was once more completely inside of her.
Yet there was one thing that he did do different this time. Once he had found his way inside her and was confident that he could thrust into her the way he wanted, his hand went back to her sex as well. With her lips now spread wide around him, he once more found that nub that he had been playing with and started to move his hand against it again. The movements were more clumsy now and less precise, but he still found it and touched it for her at the same time that he was starting to pick up his own pace.
@ShadowCat
Áine groaned as the man pushed himself inside her, inch by inch in small thrusts until he made her muscles yield to his intrusion until he could insert himself fully. She leaned her head back against the tree to let him access her neck more easily, her one leg still hooked on his arm as he moved it from his hand to hang over the crook of his elbow instead. The position wasn’t the easiest for either of them, the distinct height difference between them forced him to bend his knees to get down to her level, and he almost lifted her when his member prodded at her depths and hit her cervix. She steadied herself on him, using her hands on his chest as leverage while he began pressing into her more firmly.
He did surprise her when his hand snaked down her belly and dipped into the small space between them, fingers seeking that small nub again that would make her knees buckle and breaths hitch in her throat. Áine didn’t mind his less precise strokes over it, her body still churned into a heated response that had the muscles around him tense up with pleasure. Her hands on his chest clutched him harder as a trembling sensation shook her spine.
The fact that anyone could come across them both soured her arousal and had her blink with newfound shyness, focusing on Lothar fully to not look around and check for people. The softer groans from her changed into more eager sounds, savoring how he felt as he throbbed deep inside her with every push, how his length dragged along her insides with every pull. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a very good start, and she knew she could find her climax like this if he had time to wait for her.
“Yes,” she muttered softly, trying to encourage him that this was better than before and how she liked it. Her hands roamed his scarred and perfectly molded chest, hard muscles flexing underneath tanned skin in coordination with his every movement. Grainne was right, Lothar was a magnificent man and she’d be a fool to not appreciate it.(edited)
As her sounds became more and more like the ones that he had heard the night before, he became more eager in his own movements. His thrusts would soon bring her to her toes, almost lifting her from the ground. Had he had his other hand free he would have mostly likely just picked her up and put her in a position where he could straighten his knees, but he didn’t.
Because that hand was still occupied to rub over the top of her sex, uncordinated fingers just rubbing over her in the heat of it. His grunts started to become deeper the more that her sex clamped itself around him and tried to keep him there. She felt amazing, always had and even for him this seemed more pleasurable when she was wet then when he had gone in dry.
Eventually he could no longer stand the awkward bend of his knees. Without warning he pulled away from her and let that leg down to the ground. In just a quick grip on her hips he made her face away from him before pulling her hips back towards him, making her bend over against that same tree. It didn’t take long before his tip found her entrance again and he pressed himself in again, hitting seemingly new depths of her body.
With one hang gripping into her hip, the other still reached for that spot between her legs he thrusted into her again, pushing her roughly into that tree every single time. He wanted to command her, to rule her, to make her moan his name, but he knew words still did not work between them. Instead he let his hand land on one side of her cheeks as he pushed himself in again.
@ShadowCat
As Lothar’s thrusts grew rougher and more eager, Áine’s sounds took a higher pitch. His fingers were less focused and sloppily just rubbed at whatever he would reach, something that soon aggravated her a little even if she couldn’t rightly fault him for it. Then the sudden withdrawal from her had her look up at him in surprise, noticing the slight impatience in his expression before he turned her around and bent her into the tree. She barely had time to brace herself against it, smooth bark under her fingers as the tip of his member found her heated core again. The new angle and shift of position allowed him to drive himself deeper into her, causing Áine’s entire body to jerk forward in shock at the depth he found.
Even if he was trying to return his hand to stimulate that sweet spot again, he couldn’t quite find it. The sudden slap to her cheek had a hoarse cry erupt from her. He wasn’t outright violent with it, but the harder thrusts had her inner muscles contract around him in a vice grip as he impaled her over again. Her knees threatened to buckle, held up by her own support on the tree and his hand around to her front.
She wanted to ask him to slow down, to not rush it and let her build her climax along with him. But such words didn’t exist for her yet and instead she released one hand from the tree and reached down to take his dipped into her slit. Finding it, she attempted to steer him to accurately rub against that spot again, wanting so bad to find her own release along with his.
“le do thoil..” she said before she could correct herself to find the right word in his language. “Please…”
@Nakachu
The sudden hand took his by surprise. Feeling the soft and smooth fingers on top of his own causing him to slow down in his movements. He felt her guide him, bringing his fingers back more till they found those folds. He heard her small plea into the air. First in her own melodic language before it switching into the one that he knew.
He let her hand take a bit more control then and when he found the spot that she had wanted him to he could feel her walls clenching around him. He once more starting to move his fingers, keeping his hand still against her lower belly to not lose the position. As he thrusted himself inside her again he could almost feel how he moved inside of her and he couldn’t help but groan in approval.
As he started to pick up the pace again and let his fingers run freely over her nub he could tell that he was at the right spot for her and it was only spurring him on more. He enjoyed this time with her, his pleasure in such a heightened place that he had not often found before with a woman. There was something about the way her body accepted him and clenched around him that had him getting addicted to it all over again. Part of him not even wanting to spill his seed inside her as it would mean that this would end.
@ShadowCat
As Lothar seemed to take the instruction and finally found back to the tiny nub, immediate and new waves of pleasure raked through her limbs. Áine pushed back against his hips, meeting the deep and more controlled thrusts with eagerness of her own. A deepened warmth began building and spreading in her groin, centered around that small nub and inside her where she could feel him stretch and push at her inner walls.
A shuddering moan later and Áine was chasing the climax as the promise of it began teasing the edge of her mind again. Her tongue curled as if she could taste it, her body welcoming his member with heated coils winding her up as she tensed and flexed around his length. Her hand was still resting on Lothar’s, just above his wrist as of preventing him from removing it. She gripped it tighter, fingernails almost digging into his skin while her other hand clutched the tree for support.
It was building fast and hard, her body responding to him in ways it hadn’t before. Perhaps it was his eagerness to learn, his willingness to take her pleasure into account for his own. Whatever it was, Áine found her arousal much quicker than normal and was grateful for it. As her inner muscles tensed even more while it built until it bordered on shattering, his name rolled off her tongue in a soft plea. “Lothar…”
@Nakachu
She wasn’t the only one that was starting to feel the build up of his climax. He could feel it in his balls and his lower stomach. It was building quick and with each thrust he could feel the sensitivity of his tip growing larger and larger. It didn’t help that Anja’s sex was milking him, flexing around him in ways that drew deep groans from his lips.
The fingers on her clit never stopped moving, his hand staying in place while they worked on her, never losing that placement again. He could feel her nails digging into his arm and it drew a deep grin on his face. A few more thrust that went deep into her were enough to bring him over that edge, he gripped into her hip more roughly, probably enough to be perhaps slightly painful to her as he thrusted himself deep into her once more. He grunted loudly as his seed shot out and into her while her sex milked him for his seed.
It was more intense then he had ever experiences before. His length taking a long time before he ran empty and a strange exhaustion took over him. It was not something he had experience that heavily before and it took him by surprise more then anything.
@ShadowCat
She could feel his member swell and throb inside her, spurring her own climax on further. Her moans became softer cries as her breaths grew short, chasing the churning heat in her body with feverish frenzy as Lothar teased it towards the edge with his fingers. Suddenly all her muscles clamped hard around him, the winding coil in her coming to a tense peak and holding itself there for a few breathless seconds. And then it broke loose, whirring her inner walls into a tantric spasm that practically tried to squeeze the life out of his member.
He followed her over that edge, his thrusts slowing but plunging as deep into her as he could reach. Hot thick ropes of his cum filled her, spilling into the sanctity of her innermost parts in pulsating expansions. Áine whimpered, cried, and almost collapsed to the ground by how intense it was. Only his hands on her kept her upright and on her feet, and more than anything she wanted to lean into him as her climax subsided and left behind a blissful ache between her thighs that somehow felt right and gratifying.
As they both calmed and their joined pleasure had been found and enjoyed, Lothar pulled from her with a limb that was still somewhat hard. Áine turned on weakened knees, spent and flushed as her grey eyes searched for his.
“Pleasure,” she said softly, voice hoarse with the cries that most likely had been heard through the nearby area.
@Nakachu
He pulled away from her with another groan. The sensation of pulling from her warmth into the cool air almost unwelcome. He had to take an extra step to prevent him from losing his balance, even he was slightly weak in the legs.
As she turned to face him and he saw the unsteady movement in her as well he would step forward and push her back against that tree. He kept her protected with his body and arms, making sure that she would stay upright.
His eyes found hers, their faces so close together before she spoke. "Pleasure." She said and he couldn't help but scoff softly, though not entirely for displeasure. It was quite the opposite, he had known without her telling him.
His hand came to her body then, his fingers brushing over the skin of her stomach. It slowly reached down before it came to between her legs again. He was gentle though. He found the spot she had placed him at and placed a finger gentle on her sensitive nub without moving it. "Pleasure?" He asked her as if he was trying to confirm that it was that spot that had worked the magic.
@ShadowCat
Áine relished in the warmth of his embrace as he pushed her up against the tree, her head tilted back so she could look up at him looming above her. As his hand reached down, one single finger pushing on the sensitive bundle of nerves, her eyelids fluttered as a small aftershake of her climax surged through her. “Yes,” she confirmed in a hoarse exhale, growing weaker at such a simple and direct touch.
Her hand reached up behind his neck, pulling him down to her for a kiss. She couldn’t care if anyone saw them, or had seen them, or what they would think. She created a bubble around herself of safety and warmth that included Lothar and excluded what he had done to land her in this situation in the first place. Her small yet plump lips brushed against his thicker lips, pressing herself up to him with hunger.
“Pleasure,” she repeated, taking his hand to guide it to her breast, making sure his finger found one of her nipples that instantly hardened under his touch. Áine was in no way experienced, Lothar had been her first after all. But she’d had some idea of what she liked, and she was still exploring herself -and him- when it came to what gave her pleasure and what didn’t. If Lothar was willing to explore it with her, she would be happy to let him.
@Nakachu
He she pulled him down towards her he didn't complain or fight against her. Her lips found his and he groaned into her mouth as he instantly claimed her mouth as his. His tongue forcing it's way inside and finding hers as he exchanged his saliva with her.
As he pulled away she guided his hand to her breast and he could feel the nipple harden underneath his palm as he gave a soft grunt in approval. He simply watched her eyes, seeing the aftermath of what he had done to her. Both pleasure and exhaustion dancing in those grey pupils of hers.
Before she could say much else he would remove his hand and bend down to kneel in front of her. Without warning his mouth came around her breast and sucked at the hardened nipple. His hand cupping the other and rolling the nipple between his fingers. His tongue pressing into it before rolling around it, waiting to see her reaction.
@ShadowCat
Unbeknownst to Lothar and his slave, Amastan had returned from his scouting mission with the hunters and other scouts of the clan. Sweaty and in no mood to go back into the village yet, he’d made his way through the forest, aiming for the river and a private duck in the cold water. What he had heard, however, piqued his interest and he slowed his steps. It would surprise many how silently he stalked forward, considering his large frame and heavy weight. But years of training had taught Amastan to move with ease even in the most uncooperative of terrains.
He stopped when the source of the sounds came into vision, standing mostly hidden behind a thick tree as his dark eyes peered at the scene in front of him. His leader Lothar was fucking his little redhead slave up against a tree, holding her leg in a forced spread position. Not an uncanny or unusual sight at all. What was unusual about it was… the sounds he was eliciting from the small woman. Amastan’s leathery gloved hand leaned on the tree a little while his eyes sharpened on the scene, eyebrows raising a little when he realized Lothar had his hand down between the slave’s thighs.
The large man smirked as he watched, seeing his leader flip the slave around and enter her from behind. For a second he wondered how he even fit in her. Amastan had seen Lothar naked before, watched him rape raid captives many times. And this particular slave was on the petite side of things. He expected a cry of pain, for her to scream, but none of that happened. Instead Lothar’s hand found its way down her body again and her sounds reminded him of the sounds Amastan had overheard coming from Lothar’s tent.
09:40
How? He wondered, watching as his leather pants grew undoubtedly tighter at the front. By the looks of it, Lothar was enjoying himself quite a lot. Amastan couldn’t help but wonder how he made the slave girl so pliant to his will without beating her raw. He stayed hidden and secretly watched the two until they finished, and once they did Lothar led her onto the water where they washed and waded back up on the banks, the slave clothing herself before they disappeared into the village.
Once alone, Amastan undid the straps of his pants and leaned hard in the tree, closing his eyes as his hand wrapped firmly along the thick length of his cock. He let his imagination run free while he pleasured himself right there in the forest.
@Nakachu
A couple weeks went by and the day to day was starting to become the norm for both Lothar and Anja. Slowly they were getting to know each other more, especially in body. Even if he was still rough with her, he was learning how to give her pleasure as well. The language between them also improved, making them able to somewhat communicate with one another. He had granted her acces to the forge a few times a week under his own supervision and she had created some good weapons for them that were given to the higher ranks among their men after they had been testing thouroughly.
But that rest could never last forever with the barbaric raiders. Supplies were once more getting low, all livestock slaughtered for meat and at the right time the village that they had scouted had taken in the harvest. The village had been seemingly on alert for weeks now as well. It seemed that word of the raiders had reached them and they were prepared to defend. Not that Lothar was worried about it.
He had put Anja to work at the river and had told Tustrund to gather Grainne and bring her to tent with the rest of the men as they were set to prepare the raid. As he walked in the tent he found everyone already there and gave them all a grunt of approval as he sat himself at the end of that table.
“I know none of you are going to like this, but I am going to say it anyway.” He said, getting straight to the point. “Today, I don’t want to raid. I want to negotiate.” He said. “We have a tool who can talk to them.” He said, pointing to grain. “Let them hand over whatever they can afford in return for the safety of their woman and children. Let them recover and then we raid them.” He spoke.
@ShadowCat
He watched as Lothar strolled into the tent and announced his plans. Amastan did not object to them. He had already voiced his concerns and the matter was settled, the clan would follow Lothar’s lead for this raid as they had on so many others. Amastan looked towards Grainne instead, the tall one-eyed slave they were all supposed to put their faith in. He hoped Tustrund had learned enough of her language to be able to interpret any falsehoods while she negotiated with the villagers.
By his hip hung a great axe, sharp and brand new. Made at the hands of Lothar’s slave. How such a small and frail looking thing could produce something so strong and powerful was a mystery. Some clan members whispered sorcery; others suspected they would break. But the weapons she made had been tested thoroughly for weaknesses and they found none.
He’d clad himself in his combat leathers for the occasion. It mattered little that Grainne was supposed to negotiate a deal. He’d always expect a fight and from what he’d seen of the targeted village they had prepared defenses. He would not be caught off guard.
As the warriors around the table grunted their agreement to Lothar’s strategy, they prepared to leave. Most horses had been readied by the wives of the warriors and were saddled already. Others had been tended to before the meeting. Amastan found his own, trusted stallion and mounted it with ease. It was a seasoned horse and not easily scared. He watched as Tustrund brought his slave to sit on his own horse with him. They had to travel faster than her legs could carry her, and they would not be slowed down by a simple slave.
02:59
As the rode towards the edge of the village to cross the river, he spotted the redhead slave of Lothar’s and watched as she stood from her work. She watched the progression in silence, her eyes lingering for many seconds on Lothar at the front of the group. Amastan saw Lothar watch her in return, his eyes hard as if willing her to focus on her work from this distance. But the small woman did not heed the warning in his eyes and rushed over to Lothar's side, placing her hand on his saddle. She spoke to their leader, but Amastan could not make out the words over the sound of many hooves against the ground.
She heard the horses and turned to see the large mass of many warriors come riding. Áine stopped her work and dropped the wet leathers from her hands, watching Lothar as he rode at the front of the line. Behind him was Tustrund with Grainne behind him on the horse. Her grey eyes flicked back to Lothar, meeting his stern gaze for many seconds.
Unable to hold still anymore, she jogged over to Lothar and put a small hand on his saddle. But he didn’t stop, and she had to walk to keep up with him. She’d known something was stirring. Lothar had her work the forge hard these past couple of weeks whenever he brought her there. She’d produced many weapons for them by his instruction and repaired many more. It wasn’t lost on her they were planning another raid and she’d noticed the dwindling number of animals.
But why were they bringing Grainne?
“Take me with you?” she asked, looking up at his face and pretending she didn’t see the disapproval on his face. He’d not appreciate her interruption and half expected him to kick her off and away from him. But Áine shifted her grip to his calf, grey eyes pleading for him to listen. Why the idea of them riding off for a raid had her stomach turn uncomfortably she couldn’t say. It just did.
He was happy to not hear any objections coming from his men. Many of them still believed a fight would come, more then ready to get some of their anger out on the battlefield. Yet Lothar truly hoped that it would not come to that. Not because he himself was not itching for a fight. It was because if they could convince them to just hand over the things they needed, they could get more out of this target then they had ever before. Raiding it again once they found out they had been used.
He also mounted his horse, a great stallion with long black mains and a dark brown coat. It held scars just like Lothar did and was a muscled battle horse. He rode them out, leading the group. His eyes found Anja by the river and her eyes met his in return. He did indeed scowl at her as she started to come over to him, yet she seemed to ignore that all. He stopped next to her and before she had even fully finished her plea her answered her harshly. “No.” There was no place for a slave on a battle field. The only reason Grainne was coming was because they needed her. He looked back over his shoulder, his men looking at him strangely that he stopped in the way. Even his horse was impatient, stepping back and forth with restless legs. “Don’t embarrass me in front of my men..” he hissed at her. It had been the first time in a long time he had snapped at her, their relationship actually having build over the past days. But he would not have her act like she could get anything she wanted from him. She still had to keep to his rules. “Get back to work.” He ordered her, his voice carrying louder then and simply stormed off without caring if the horses backside bumped into Anja on the way out.
@ShadowCat
It was with no small amount of satisfaction Amastan watched Lothar practically shove his slave out of the way, the flank of his horse bumping into her small frame and causing her to fall backwards. The little redhead fell on her ass and sat there as she watched the rest of the progression follow as Lothar set off at a faster pace. Amastan stopped for just a seconds, leering down at her in silent disgust. She glared up at him in return and it had him laugh and shake his head as he urged his horse to catch up to their leader. However much he understood Lothar’s attraction, had she been Amastan’s slave she’d be put in her place once he got back. In ways she wouldn’t soon forget.
He rode quickly past the men that had gotten a head start on him, soon falling in line right behind Lothar’s horse as he rode at a fast trot through the forest. The clan’s presence was already visible, the trails they’d used getting beaten into the terrain by the horses and the many scouts that traveled them every day. If this raid went well, they’d be able to stay a while longer. But not so hidden anymore and they would have to strengthen their defenses.
His dark gaze swiftly moved to Tustrund with his slave behind him, the tall woman clutching onto him for dear life to not slide off the horse. She was clearly uncomfortable, having to sit on the thick rump of the horse as its muscles played underneath her while it kept up pace. He’d speak a threat if he thought it necessary, to make sure Tustrund understood the severity to both the slave and himself if this failed. Tustrund was supposed to know enough of her language now to be able to discern any falsehoods in her translation. But such threats were not needed, Tustrund likely trusted her as much as anyone else.
Shifting his attention away from the two, he pointed forward where the path divided. “Nort,” he spoke calmly to Lothar. “We’ll direct our archers up the hill to flank the villagers in case they attack. They can find vanta
02:47
ge points up there and be able to intercept any livestock chased off.”
@Nakachu
Lothar did not look back to Anja, not even as he knocked her down. He would not tolerate her trying to embarrass him in front of everyone. He had not grown soft, not in the slightest. He might be enjoying his time with her, especially during the nights that they spend alone. He cared for her, that much he was willing to admit. But he was not going to show that affection when they were out in public.
So instead he rode on, his mood having taken a shift but determined to do what was needed for the raid. These were days that he always looked forward to, but they were also days that he dreaded at the same time. They were as much as a test to his leadership as anything. So he drove his horse hard and expected the others to follow.
It was only when Amastan caught up next to him that he slowed. He listened to his second hands ideas. He nodded in agreement. “Send them.” She spoke and he would slow down his own campaign so that they could get in position before they walked up towards the village.
She had never been this nervous in her entire time with the clan. She had always just been able to live her life calmly, but now the pressure was on. They had explained her what they expected from her, but she also knew that if they even slightly suspected that she might be telling them the wrong things she knew she was done for. Even if perhaps she had not even done that. She had already been suspicious when Tortrund showed interest in her language, yet this was not what she had expected.
They had not even been riding for long but already she could feel herself growing sore. Her legs were cramping for holding on to the horse and her pelvis was hurting from bumping up and down on the horse. She tried to peek past Tortrund, but it was impossible to do so without risking the fall.
Only once they slowed down and rode up to the village was she able to find it. She had not seen anything but the inside of the camp since her capture and seeing a bustling village before her did awake things inside of her. Many emotions running inside of her, but she pushed it down. The moment they rode up the village started to move as well. Woman and children were pushed into their houses while the man gathered their weapons and all gathered at the entrance. She held her breath.. knowing that soon she would be thrown before them. Would they believe she was one of them? Would they hurt her if they got the chance?
@ShadowCat
Amastan gave a curt affirmative nod and paused his horse, rounding up the archers as they passed him while the warriors trailed after Lothar towards the village. He had a calm air about him, giving orders with short and clear directions on where to go, positions and appointing a seasoned archer and hunter to lead the group. The archers dismounted their horses away from the village to move more silently through the terrain, and to be able to scale the hillside faster and more safely on foot rather than expose the animals to that hurdle.
Seeing the arches duck into the underbrush of the forested hills, cloaked by their leather and furs, he then urged his horse to catch up with the rest of the warriors. His place was beside Lothar, and he wouldn’t miss the chance to slay down any villagers playing hero.
Slowing the strides of his horse as he approached at a leisure trot, he steered it up to the front where Lothar and Tustrund stood with the slave in tow. Amastan remained on his horse, his dark eyes peering at the villagers as they gathered. Most men were armed, and he saw archers in lookout towers newly erected by the looming threat coming their way as word of raiders in the area had likely reached them. The men of the village didn’t look half as capable as Lothar’s men, but they had numbers to their advantage. It had Amastan smirk, knowing very well the power of quality over quantity when it came to battlefield success. He already itched to swipe them down with his axe, knowing Lothar’s slave had done good work with it. It would slice through these men like a hot knife through butter.
04:15
He took a slow and deep inhale as his gaze wandered from one man to another, seeing their trembling determination as they blocked the entry to their village. His dark eyes met the gaze of many, and his smirk widened into a vicious grin that would have any lesser man piss his pants. Seeing their fear made him certain they’d surrender to any demands coming their way. Although he was a tad disappointed they wouldn’t get the chance to claim women as a part of the spoils. The number of slaves back at the clan settlement had been dwindling as the weaker fell victims to the harsh treatment of their captors.
His hand rested on the pommel of his axe while he waited for Lothar to execute his plan.
@Nakachu
Lothar had gotten closer up to the village and once it seemed to have been established that neither parties were going to move on another without provocation, he dismounted his horse. He motion form Turstrund to do the same and he took his slave down with him. The girl seemed more terrified then he had ever seen her, though her spirit remained strong as well. That is why he needed her, she would not shake in fear.
Once Amastan had joined them he grabbed Grainne by the arm and pushed her forward in a rough manner, almost making the girl stumble over her own feet. “This is your last warning, girl. If you tell them anything, but what I want you to say I am tying you up and leaving you for my men till you die of thirst or otherwise.” The threat was harsh, but Grainne would know he meant it.
His threat was indeed something that was deep in her mind. She had seen slaves who had been left to the bunches. It never ended well for them. Even if she knew the pain of having her eye carved out while concious, she was not waiting to find out more. “I know.” She quickly said. She took a deep breath as they came forward.
The villagers looked terrified. Unsure whether to ready themselves for battle or to stand and wait to see what was going on. The stories they had heard about raiders had probably never started like this. A slow walk towards them. That was when Lothar started to talk in the harsh language that she had made her own and it was up to her to translate.
“We stand before you as the clan of Temoroth, lead by the great Lothar.” She translated first. Of course they had to boast. “We have decided to show this village mercy, but that mercy will not come for free.” She went on. Her eyes would shift to Lothar and then to Tustrund, but both of them were keeping a close eye on her. She had considered using this to her advantage, but perhaps this was not the time.. especially not with a village that looked like they would just give up everything just to make them go away.
“We are in need of livestock, meat, armor and weaponry. Hand over your bounty, leave just enough for your men to survive. In return we will turn a blind eye and go back to our camp. What is your answer to our offer?” She translated then.
The people before them started to talk among themselves. She could hear people in disbelief, if they could be trusted. But then the sea of men parted and one single elder came forward. Grainne met his eyes and could see that he was most likely the elder of the village. “Who is your leader?” He asked. She translated it to Lothar who stepped forward. “I am.” Lothar grunted in his own language before Grainne translated him as the leader of the bunch.
And then suddenly everything changed.. An arrow made a whistling sound through the sky, blowing right
06:45
past her face before she heard the deep grunt behind her. The rest seemed to move in a blur. Lothar’s men gave into action without a second doubt. Horses galloping around her, arrows being fired from the hills around them. Battle commenced as scream of war filled the air.
It was so disorienting. So frightfull. Images of her own raid flooded Grainne’s mind as she just ducked down and made herself small, hoping none of the horses would hit her. She did not dare to look before her, so instead she looked to the side. And there he was.. on the floor. An arrow sticking out from his shoulder and blood slowly seeping into the ground. The great leader.. Lothar.
@ShadowCat
He should have known it would go down this way. He had known. As the elder man approached and wished to know who their leader was, Amastan had readied his axe in distrust. What the elder and the villagers failed to understand was that Lothar wasn’t the adhesive that kept the clan a united front on the battlefield. All men were trained well and knew what to do. He idly wondered if the arrow had been aimed at Grainne and missed, or if it was a haphazard shot from a nervous archer.
Either way, as the arrow burrowed itself through Lothar, Amastan and the other warriors exploded into action. His horse lunged forward in a leap over Lothar’s fallen body, his axe swung powerfully, and the elder man’s head rolled off his shoulders before his limp body hit the ground. Like a hot knife through butter, he grinned and turned his horse so he could swing the weapon again without breaking momentum. More villagers fell -slashed and mangled bodies quickly littered the ground and it took a hot crimson hue.
Amastan’s heartbeats were steady with the flow of the commencing fight. He saw arrows rain down on the village from the hills, expertly aimed as the archers had vantage of higher ground. He saw the other warriors explode into action, deep ferocious roars of battle filled the air and had more than one villager turn on their heel to flee. Amastan simply pointed at them in a command to pursue, and their own men took up pursue.
The villagers had perhaps been prepared to fight, but how ill trained they were would soon become glaringly clear as more and more of them fell. Amastan kept himself in the thick of it, after slaying the closest circle of defenders he leapt of his horse and simply smacked its rear and it fled to safety. With his feel sturdy balanced on solid ground, he advanced on one villager, then another, then a third. The pommel of his axe was soon sleek with blood, but it did nothing to lessen his grip on the weapon.
04:48
Shifting, his dark eyes sharpened on Lothar’s form. He was conscious but still on the ground. Amastan saw no immediate threats to himself or their leader and marched over, bringing himself down to collect the large man and pull him to his feet. “Get off the ground brother,” he murmured and unceremoniously broke off the arrow sticking out of his front and back, leaving just enough that they could remove it safely later. Right now, it was likely the only thing preventing him from bleeding out and it would have to stay there as a plug.
His eyes located Grainne cowering towards one of the archery towers. Tustrund was somewhere on the battlefield and had no time to ensure the safety of his slave. Amastan locked eyes with her while he supported Lothar’s heavy weight, a promise of many things painful in his eyes. Then he scoffed and hoped she would just perish there with the rest of the villagers as he turned and pulled Lothar with him to the edge of the village. “Trust a slave huh?” he grumbled to Lothar, but his voice wasn’t unkind. His blood boiled with the thrill of battle, and regardless of the outcome of Lothar’s ingenuity, he was still their leader and a man Amastan would protect to the last inch of his life.
@Nakachu
The battle went on to fast. Everything around her was a blur while Lothar grunted beside her. Yet she could not bring herself to help him. What could she even do to help him? Her one eye was big and wide. Fear written all over her. If she had known what PTSD was, this is what she would have called it. The sounds alone were enough to send her in a huge spike of fear. Her breathing fast and rapid, making her head spin. To unsteady to get on her feet she simply crawled away to the brushes or at least what she thought were brushes, trying to find safety. If that even existed at all.
And then another pair of heavy boots were suddenly beside her. She looked up to see a face. Amastan.. he had always scared her. He was the one she could never figure out. Immune to her advances, immune to any kind of flattery.. and now his face stood like thunder as he looked her way.
Run Grainne.. a voice inside her said.. He will blame you.. he will kill you.. yet her feet would not carry her anywhere.
Multiple times he attempted to get himself up on his feet. But the back of the arrow was plunged into the ground, making it to painful to move as he could feel the blood seeping out of him. A stupid arrow.. was that really what did him in? A stupid fucking arrow..
He attempted it once more, resulting in a heavy scream before Amastan was with him. With two quick snaps the long wooden shaft was no longer in his way and he was lifted from the ground with the males support.
"Trust a slave huh?"
"I don't want to hear it." He growled heavily under his breath. He was angry at himself. Had he really been to naive? How could he have let that happen! With trying to move their clan forward, he had only made a fool of himself. "Bring me to my horse.. I can ride." He demanded.
@ShadowCat
Amastan held his comment in check upon Lothar angered response, but he couldn’t help the deep chuckle that escaped his throat. Supporting Lothar’s weight towards where they had left their horses, he made sure their leader could mount it and sit properly without assistance. Blood still pooled from the man’s wound, but not alarmingly fast. Amastan gave him a small nod and shifted his attention back to the village.
Their warriors had done swift work and only a few male villagers still stood. As per their usual tactics, doors were soon broken down and women and children were pulled from the buildings. Then raiders began collecting loot, weapons and armors, in addition to other valuable trinkets. They had located the mill, food storages and the smokery. Amastan stayed for a while beside Lothar, his hand tight around the pommel of his axe as he watched the raiders work through the village, house by house.
“The slave?” he asked, finding Tustrund with his eyes and watching him inspect a couple of crying and screaming women. Amastan’s nostrils flared upon seeing the fellow warrior disregard the responsibility he had in this raid, leaving the cause of their failure to herself and free to make a run for it. For a second, just briefly, his mind drifted towards the throwing axe at his belt. It would be easy to cleave the man’s skull even at this distance. But an axe to the back of the head was a disgraceful death, and he abandoned his impulse as quickly as it found him.
The slave in question was still cowering by the archery tower, her tall frame huddled into the bushes as she watched with her one eye as large as that of a dying deer. Her natural tanned complexion was white as snow, expression frozen in a look of pure fear and shock. His own eyes narrowed on her before they shifted back to Tustrund. Had she…? If she had, why had Tustrund not intervened?
His hand slowly gripped tighter around his axe.
@Nakachu
He accepted Amastan's support reluctantly as he helped him back on his horse. The side where the arrow had pierced him, he let his arm hang limp as the other grabbed the reins. Even with one hand he could control his horse easily, so used to having an axe in the other to fight.
He watched the raid commence before him. His eyes reduced to were slits by both pain and anger. Yet there was no way he was going to give in to the pain that he was feeling, he wasn't going to appear weak. He barked some commands to some other men that were around them. Having them make sure the looting went right.
When he turned back he watched the small exchange between Amastan and Tortrund, but decided it was not worth his attention.
It had taken everything in het to find that brush and she hid inside of it. She pressed her hands against her ears, trying to drown out the sounds that were happening around her. It helped only slightly. She hummed to herself softly, trying to calm herself down.
It had just all became to real in that moment. The reminder of the day her life had changed so drasticly, the day she became someone else entirely.
And then the brush moved and as she looked up with her one eye she came face to face once more with Amastan. Her heart jumped in her chest as the brute tall male stood before her. His eyes moved back somewhere, but she did not dare to look away. Not until she saw that grip tighten on the axe.
He is going to kill me..
Without a second doubt in her mind she shot off. Her long legs carrying her as fast as she could. One day she might have outrun them, but months of malnourishment had killed her stamina. Yet she tried. Tried to get away from him.
@ShadowCat
It took him a couple of seconds to decide whether he should chase her down or not. The idea of his throwing axe still lingering on his mind as he watched the tall and slender slave dash away from him. It would be a quick death and an end to this nonsense. A problem with an easy solution. Too easy. Merciful.
Amastan scowled, not the slightest amused by her behavior. He’d admit he liked a good chase; hunting prey -in whatever shape and form- had been an enjoyable pastime of his since childhood. But this was not a hunt for enjoyment. His long and powerful legs exploded into action. He moved swiftly and surprisingly silent for a man of his size, extended and numerous seasons hunting had taught him how to efficiently maneuver in uncooperative terrain. If the slave wished to behave as cowardly prey, he would treat her as such.
His war axe still at hand, he chased the slave not far into the woods where she dashed between the trees to try and shake him off. Clever enough, but not fast enough. Amastan caught up with her and used his free hand to grab the nape of her neck roughly, pulling her backwards so she lost her balance as her feet still had a forward momentum. He threw her back towards the village and the raid, her body colliding with a tree while she fell. She screamed. He didn’t care.
“You welcome death?” he grumbled, marching back towards her and grabbed her again. This time he lifted her by the nape like he would lift a kitten. Much of her brown hair entangled in his fist and it likely tugged at her skull as well. He didn’t care. Her raised her to her feet and had her face him, looming over her while he made sure the digits of his fingers pressed into the muscles at the back of her neck. She shook, fear stealing her strength away.
06:39
“Run,” he taunted with a deep voice, pointing with his axe into the woods without breaking eye contact with her. “You die.” It was a promise. “Stay.” He released her and roughly pushed her towards the raided village. “You live.”
Amastan had not taken his eyes off her, holding his axe in a fierce grip with enough power to cleave her torso down the middle if he brought in down on her. He quietened and waited for her to make her choice. He’d seen her disposition for self-preservation before, willing to go far and beyond to ensure her own survival. He wondered if that had changed, if she truly wished to end it all right there. It would be a clean death, but not pretty. And certainly not painless.
He tucked his chin down a little and tilted his head forward at her, watching for signs that she had made her choice.
@Nakachu
She ran for her life. She didn’t even dare to look back. Yet she knew he was behind her. She could hear the sounds of him crashing through the forest behind her. The branches scraped at her skin, leaving her arm with several shallow cuts, but she could not care. She was in blind panic at that moment and all she could think of was getting away.
But the longer the ran, she slower she got. Her legs burning before long. She felt that hand find her neck and she yelped loudly as he brought her back. Screamed even harder as she hit the tree hard enough to make it feel like she broke her shoulder blade. ”Fuck you!” She shouted at him, though she did it in the language he did not know. Perhaps it had been out of self protection, or perhaps it was because her fear had made her revert back to the language she originally spoke.
She tried to raise her arms in a way to protect herself as he grabbed for her again, but of course it was no use. She groaned loudly from the pain at the tight grip that he had on her as he brought her back to her feet. Her hands coming to grab at his to try and eleviate some of the pain. She stared into his eyes as he spoke to her. Telling her that if she dared to run she would surely die. If she stayed, she would live. But she had lived when they had taken her eye. It told her nothing of what might await her back in the village. It told her nothing about the anger that he could unleash on her, that anger that was in his eyes right there. For a short moment she tried to shrug out of his grip, but all it did was make her yelp at the pain.
Yet with the sounds of the raid now far away from them she was able to clear her mind. She knew he would keep to his promise to kill her and even now she did not want to die. So in the end she closed her eye and pressed her mouth close together, going more limp in his grip. “I will stay…” she said in a whisper that was almost to soft to be able to hear.
@ShadowCat
Her compliance annoyed him greatly, even if he had to acknowledge her will to survive. This particular slave had on multiple occasions earned her execution. But she was a hard worker -when she obeyed- and so not entirely without value. Amastan merely grunted in agreement and pushed the slave forward, making her walk back to the raid on her own two feet. He used the flat side of his axe to shove her ahead of himself, but otherwise she would have to make that walk on her own accord with her head hung in shame. This did not annoy him, and he even adjusted his pace to her much slower walk so he could savor the moment of her defeat.
Once they returned to the village, he saw that the raid had come to an end. They would still need to send out a second search party the next day to gather what had been left behind and the rest of the livestock. But for now, they had compiled a hefty bounty and could return to their clan settlement shortly. Everywhere around the village, dead bodies laid strewn about. Amastan exhaled through his nostrils as he saw the number of women and children also dead. Only a few women had been rounded up for taking, the rest had been disposed of.
08:48
Spotting Tustrund alongside Lothar, he grabbed the slave by her hair and dragged her over to them. There he threw her at Tustrund. “Control your bitch,” he barked and then left to find his horse. Tustrund had apparently found a new girl he liked the look of and suddenly found himself with two women to control. Amastan couldn’t care less about his fellow warrior’s dilemma and mounted his horse without any more words. Instead, his gaze wandered to Lothar who had begun slumping more in his saddle, face pale with pain and blood loss. They needed to get him back so his wound could be cared for.
Amastan curled his tongue in his mouth and whistled loudly, and up the hills above them came an equally loud whistle. It was the signal to the archers to return and meet with them. His dark eyes moved back to Lothar, refraining from offering their leader his help but instead watch over the man. Helping him would only bring him more shame.
@Nakachu
She could see the hate that he had for her in that moment in his eyes. He didn’t like her.. that much was clear to her. When he grunted and motioned for her to get walked, she obeyed. She knew he would kill her in a heartbeat and he would not make it quick. Her legs were still shaking, having trouble holding her own weight, but she kept it up. She felt the axe in her back, pushing her along with it.
Slowly the village came back into view and it brought more shudders down her spine. it looked exactly like hers had looked. That first day that she met the clan of Temoroth. Broken down, burning and raided to the ground. Woman pulled along by their hair, the fear in their eyes. And more then anything the smell of the blood that came from all the dead bodies. It took everything in her not to throw up.
As they got close to Tustrund her eyes widened more. There was another woman sitting in front of him with his horse. This was bad… what if he had no need for her anymore? What if she had bored him? No.. she had value right? She could speak the language.. but did they even want her to anymore after this disaster. She got pushed forward and this time she didn’t hold her ground, falling to her knees and hands in the dirt. Tustrund’s grunt already told her that he was not in a mood. “She walks.” He spoke and she knew then that this was going to end worse for her then she had even thought. She looked to Amastan, but he had already mounted his horse and was now more concerned with Lothar. Walking it was.. all the way the fuck back.
The longer went on the more Lothar could feel himself fading. His head was starting to get lighter and it was harder to sit right in his horse. Even if the bleeding was slow, it was still flowing from the wound that was now in his shoulder. And as the wound was starting to swell it was throbbing more and more.
“We ride!” He then announced, his voice already hoarse from the lack of energy in his body. Amastan had already called back the archers and they were on their way shortly. They didn’t rode fast, Lothar could not handle more then a soft trot at that moment. The longer went on, the more he struggled, but he did not allow himself to give in. Keeping himself steady in the horse as much as he could as he was starting to grow more pale. It was only when the camp of the clan came in view that his body finally took control of him. Just as they entered the first row of tents, the great leader tumbled from his horse, hitting the ground hard. He was out cold.
@ShadowCat
Amastan reined his horse to wait for most men who’d participated in the raid, doing a visual check of their injuries as they passed him. It was not an easy task, all warriors covered in a substantial amount of blood that wasn’t their own. He did see some bloodied warriors who were clutching abdomens or limbs. While these men carried their scars with pride, an unchecked injury could be fatal if left to fester.
After a few minutes, he clicked his horse into a light trot to catch up with Lothar and Tustrund. On the way there he saw the tall slave woman walk, off to the side and unguarded. Amastan frowned as irritation began to boil at the back of his mind, cursing Tustrund this irresponsible negligence. As he got closer to the slave, he leaned down and swiftly scooped her up in his arm without stopping of slowing down his horse. She yelped and cussed, but he couldn’t care less and with a strong arm unceremoniously pulled her up to hang over the horseback in front of him. Her hair fell over her face as she hung there like a sack while he urged the horse to trot faster.
Once he caught up with Tustrund, he eyed the terrified girl behind the man before frowning at the younger man. However, this was not the time nor the place. Tustrund needed a reminder of his duties, but he would not shame the whelp in front of the whole clan. Lothar had chosen the man to be his second alongside Amastan. That choice was to be respected.
The slave in front of his stopped squirming and he was glad he did not need to slap her into silence. He simply rode on without caring how uncomfortable she must be.
The sun had dipped low on the horizon by the time Áine had finished the many baskets of clothes and leathers. She sighed as she straightened her back in discomfort, the pop and stretch giving some small relief. This was a two-person job with the sheer amount of clothes they had to wash. But this day she had been alone and Grainne off to gods know where. She’d tried not to think about it too hard, tried not to imagine Lothar and his men as they were clearly equipped for a raid. Tried not to imagine Grainne there with them, unarmed and vulnerable.
But no matter how hard she tried, there was that pestering little nag at the back of her mind. She couldn’t help herself and her grey, wide eyes would constantly drift towards the forest trail the men had disappeared to. Her breaths had been slightly elevated all day, making it hard to concentrate on her work. Áine was certain she could feel it -something wasn’t right.
After she’d hung up the clothes and leathers to dry, she delivered the empty baskets back at the tents she had picked them up from. With Lothar away, she stood in the middle of the camp uncertain of what to do. He was usually the one who asked food to be brought to his tent, and she’d never been allowed to go get anything on her own. The clan wives were cooking over the large firepit, big iron casseroles with stew and freshly baked bread spreading a delicious scent throughput the area.
Her stomach rumbled as she watched the women, seeing many men and other women simply walk up and help themselves to a bowl of food. But she saw no brandmarks on their backs and assumed she’d be in for a beating if she tried. And without Lothar, she dared not tempt such a fate.
20:43
Turning away from it, she headed towards his tent instead, wringing her hands together at her front and biting her lip. She was deep in thought and almost missed the cheerful yells at the edge of the camp. Cheerful at first, then a few shocked gasps and people ran past her to reach it. That nag at the back of her mind lurched into a full-fledged worry and Áine ran as well, pushing herself past many other women and men. They had gathered in a circle, and as she broke through the line of people, Áine’s heart froze like a cold hand clutched it in a fierce grip.
Time slowed as she gawked at the scene in front of her, Lothar’s limp body on the ground looking deathly and unusually pale. She saw his second in command -the long-hired man, dismount his horse in a leap. Her feet moved without her permission, forward and closer, and before she had time to think about her actions Áine was kneeling beside Lothar’s form. Just as she had reached out to touch him, the long-haired man grabbed her shoulder and pulled her away, leaning down to collect their leader and heave him over his shoulder. She sat on her ass for no more than a few seconds, spotting Grainne sliding off a horse with tousled hair and red cheeks.
Then she scrambled to her feet and quickly followed the long-haired man as he carried Lothar through the camp, towards the tent Áine had slowly begun to associate as her new home.
@Nakachu
Walking was not how she would have chosen to go about it. But walking is what she got. At least nobody seemed to be paying much attention to her. Tustrund was to busy with his new catch from the village. Because of that she could slowly move closer to the tree line. Running away was still on her mind. The only thing holding her back was the weakness she still felt in her knees. The panic attack she had experienced really taking a hold of her.
She had not even been really paying attention when she suddenly heard the trots of a horse behind her. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see Amastans arm reach out and grab a hold of her. She yelped loudly and could indeed not help but cuss out. He slumped her over his saddle like she was nothing but a sack of potato’s, the front of his saddle painfully pressing against her stomach with each throt. She could not help but move her face aside and aim an angry scowl at him before she gave herself into this new position she found herself in. She would be bruised by the time they came to camp, she was sure of that at least.
And she was not wrong. The ride was painful. Even if she tried to relax as much as possible the saddle kept hitting her in the stomach, her back hurting from the weird bend that she was in. Amastan had no regard for her as he urged his horse on. She was glad when they got to the village and he pulled the horse to a stop. She heard the gasp around her and as she looked up she knew exactly what had happened. Lothar had gone down. Amastan dismounted his horse, taking care of his leader now more important then the little slave slumped over his saddle.
She didn’t care about Lothar in that moment. She cared about not being paid attention to. She let herself fall from the saddle to the ground, her legs barely holding her up as she hit the ground. Her hand went to her stomach and as she moved the rough leather away she could see the start of bruises forming on her abs. She gumbled softly under her b
02:03
reath.
She found Tustrund with her eyes, but he still seemed occupied by the new girl who was terrified of him. Like a small mouse trapped in a corner by a cat. It was the bad and good thing about him. He only had attention for one person at a time. So she just let herself fade away in the crowd. Sinking into the man slaves as she made sure that she was as far away from the whole display as she could be. Perhaps take a small dip in the water to help eleviate the pain.
After he had blacked out, there was just nothing that got to him. He had gone down hard, yet had not even felt it. Even as Amastan lifted him from the ground it didn’t register for him. The first thing he remembered again was being slumped over the shoulder and hauled into his tent. “Put me down..” he grunted, his voice almost none existent and rough.
His request was taken as he felt himself placed on the bed of leathers. His hand went to the hole that was still in his shoulder and then back up, coming back red and bloodied. More people had started to gather in the tent beside Amastan now. He could see Anja and wanted to bark at her to be gone. Not wanting to show her the weak state that he was in.. but at the same time he wanted her there. There was also one of the elder wives who specialized in medicine and injury. Her son with her to aid her. Something that she would need when dealing with a hot headed male like Lothar.
“Take off his shirt.” The elder woman ordered. She was one of the few that could talk that way, especially when someone life was considered. Lothar wanted to protest, but he soon gave in to it as the son came over and started to strip him from the leathers. He was soon bare chested, the wound raw and red with the wooden shaft of the arrow just barely sticking out where Amastan had broken it. The slowest trickle of blood still coming off it.
The elder lady came closer and examined it, poking at it as Lothar half barked from the pain it gave him. “We will leave the arrow.” She then decide. “Removing it now might make him bleed out. He needs to recover first.” She spoke as she moved to signs for her son to bring her things. “We will bind it tight, stop the bleeding. Tomorrow we will see what to do about it.”
@ShadowCat
Áine followed closely while Lothar was carried off to his tent, darting inside right behind the large man carrying him. She watched Lothar’s pale face closely, looking for signs that he would awake and stir. When he did, she exhaled in relief. The man carrying him laid him down on the fur bed, shooing Áine rather roughly out of the way as more and more people entered the tent.
Pushed off to a corner of the tent, she watched with horror struck and wide eyes as an elderly woman took command, barking orders at the others and they stripped Lothar of his shirt. The broken arrow came into view, and she staggered at the sight. Everything else around her became a blur of motion, people passing by her, flitting around Lothar as they did the older woman’s budding. The would was cleaned in boiled water first, then wrapped tightly with wet and cold cloths from the river to stem the bleeding. Her attention was on him, his face as he bit down the pain while they pulled tightly around the arrow to keep it from moving within him and cause more damage.
She wanted to ask why they didn’t remove it. Why they didn’t treat the wound properly. Why they let him suffer needlessly. But none such worlds were known to her and so she was left to watch, apathetically and discarded as nothing more than what she was; just a slave.
The large man who’d carried Lothar left the tent, and then returned shortly after with a bowl of food and a jar of ale. He set them down on the small table in the room and pulled the table closer to the bed Lothar was resting on. People had begun leaving the tent, and eventually the man turned to Áine while the pointed between the food and Lothar, saying a few words she didn’t understand. Áine’s eyes barely had time to leave Lothar’s form, and eventually the man lost his patience and stepped closer.
05:12
“He must eat,” he repeated, again pointing to the food and then to Lothar. Áine’s grey eyes shifted to the man and she gave him a meek nod that she understood. The man grunted in return, then left the tent and the two of them alone.
She swallowed thickly as she approached the bed, Lothar’s pale skin contrasting harshly with the dark pelts covering him. His eyes were closed, but she could see his breaths were laboured and understood he must be suppressing the pain. His thick and furrowed eyebrows were tightly wound together in concentration. Áine gently sat on the bedside and touched his chest just below his bandaged shoulder, watching for shifts in his attention and wondering how she could help him. She’d never had much training in these things, too occupied with the smithy and her father’s work.
“Hungry?” she eventually asked, her voice soft and fearful of disturbing him.
@Nakachu
The entire time they were working on him, he grit down his teeth. He was not allowed to show his weakness. He had already done so to much by fainting from the back of the horse. He was angry at himself for letting a simple arrow take him down. Now he had to appear as if nothing was the matter, even if the elderly woman knew full well how weak he felt inside of him.
The bandaging process was excruciating and it didn't take long before sweat beaded from his chest and forehead from the pain he was enduring. Multiple times he felt close to passing out again, but sitting down was the one thing that saved him.
It was only when they all left that he was left alone with his pain. The bandage was so tight that it put constant pressure on the swelling wound. His heartbeat causing small jolts of pain to course through him every single second.
Anja's hand touching him made him jump as his eyes shot open to meet her. First full of desperation and pain, but soon softened a bit as they found her.
"Hungry?" She offered him the food and he looked down at tbe bowl. His body not in the mood to be accepting food. "No." He spoke, his voice slightly hoarse. If she ended up insisting he would sigh and take the bowl to eat it. His hand going in it to grab the fatty chunks of meat and popping them in his mouth with his good arm. The meat was tough and after gritting his teeth hard were hurting his jaw. So he took his time with each of them, eating slowly.
He hated the fear and worry written on his slave's face. She should not worry about him and it was making him feel frustrated, was making him feel weak. In a desperate display of ego and dominance he suddenly grabbed her by her arm and dragged her into the furs with him. He laid himself over her, pinning her to the bed, holding himself up with one arm. "Don't look at me with pity, girl.." he growled at her.
He would probably have done more had his body not instantly been angry at him for having moved like that. The pain becomi
19:58
ng worse and the change in blood flow not helping his cause at all. He once more grew pale and soon pushed himself off her and laid on his back next to her instead, needing to close his eyes to not pass out.
@ShadowCat
She silently watched him eat, her grey eyes following every movement and dip and curve of his features. Color slowly returned to his face, although he still looked ridden by pain. Áine bit her lip, her hands empty and limp in her lap while the sensation of helplessness filled her. She wanted to help him but didn’t know how. When Lothar had finished eating, she set the bowl away and was about to reach for the flagon of ale when he grabbed her and pulled her down onto the furs. His strength still outmatched hers, even when wounded, but it was clear he lacked his usual steel force. She didn’t say anything when he barked at her, didn’t shy from his angered expression, ignored the pain in her arm where he gripped her.
As the fight left him and he rolled off her, Áine sat up next to him and placed her hand on his chest below the bandage. His skin was slightly cold to the tough. She didn’t know if that was a good think or not. All she knew was that fever meant infection and he didn’t seem feverish. She understood he was restraining himself to not show his pain, the short and subdued breaths along with muted groans of pain revealing more to her than if he probably intended.
Her eyes flitted over his form where the scars of past injuries marred his otherwise chiseled body, now adorned with a new injury fresh and raw. A treacherous tear escaped the corner of her eye and she rose from the bed, quickly grabbing the empty water bucket and a strip of washcloth. She left the tant, hurried and bothered by the sight of him, the need to help him urging her to do something. Outside, a man stopped her and peered at her with a hard expression.
01:56
“To wash Lothar,” she said, gesturing to the bucket and the washcloth. The man’s stoic expression faltered, and he gave her a single nod, stepping out of her way. Áine hurried to the center of the settlement where hot water could be found in one of the many large pots boiling on the firepit. Few paid her mind while she filled her bucket with hot water. She was still a slave and had little to no rights in this place, and yet no one tried to stop her. When the bucket was filled halfway, she carried it with her and went to grab one of the soap bars reserved for particularly dirty clothing. Áine didn’t care if she wasn’t supposed to take one. She may know very little about injuries, but she did know that filth and dirt needed to stay out of a wound. Lothar was somewhat dirty from his rather harsh encounters with the ground.
When she returned to the tent, Lothar was still in the same position as before; on his back and with his eyes closed. He’d draped his good arm over his forehead to shield from the light in the room and she couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not. She approached and set the bucket down by the bedside, dipping the bar of soap into the warm water to foam it up. Once done, she wrung out the washcloth in the water and sat on the bed, gently guiding his arm away from his face. Looking down at his closed and tense expression, she began washing his face with gentle and slow movements.
@Nakachu
He almost half growled at her as she placed a hand o his skin. It felt warm and comforting, but at the same time he felt like she as still pitying him. He felt so weak, to be downed by one single arrow. Such a bad show of leadership. The entire day had been in fact. It had been his fault for trying to treathy with the village after all.
And it seemed he grunt had been quite enough to scare the slave girl away. He did not know where she had gone and in that moment he could not care about it. He was angry at himself, frustrated to no believe. He just laid himself down, putting an arm over his eyes to shield himself from the light and tried to find his strength back. His head still swimming from the blood loss.
When she came back into the room it took him a moment to realize she had. Having almost drifted off to sleep. But once she sat down on the furs beside him he knew that she was there. Her hand soon came to his arm and pulled it away from him and for a moment he was ready to bark at her again. But only until the cloth reached his face and brushed gently over his skin. His eyes would flutter open to find hers, an expression finding her that was a strange mix between calm and anger. A deep breath left his nose before he closed his eyes again and just relaxed, letting her do what she wanted.
Meawhile Grainne had simply removed herself from the whole ordeal. Lothar falling off his horse had been exactly what she had needed. With Tustrund to busy with the terrified girl he had found and Amastan helping Lothar to his tent, nobody was paying attention to her. She walked away from the middle of the camp as quickly as she could without drawing suspicion to her.
She made her way to the water, to the river side. The moment she got there she let herself fall down to the water, not caring that her leathers got wet she plashed the cold water into her face as she willed herself to calm down. After that she just sat on her hands and knees at the water edge for a long time,flashing water into her face, her long black waves shielding her from the outside world.
She had never thought that she would feel that weak again.. the complete panic she had experience as she saw the raid happen before her. She was stronger then that.. better then that. She wasn’t just a slave! One day she was going to make something for herself. Yet Amastan’s treatment of her had made it very clear what he thought of her. Her stomach and back still hurt from being draped over that horse like a bag of potato’s. His treatment of her in the forest. She had been so close to running from him.. Surely he would leave her alone no that they were in camp right? She was Tustrund’s after all..
@ShadowCat
She washed him slowly and with meticulous movements not to disturb his rest. Fist his face, neck, and down his chest. She also made sure to clean his hands, taking the large palms in between her own while she cleaned off whatever dirt and grease was left on them. Lothar didn’t move much, and with his eyes closed and breaths slow, she couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or unconscious. After she was done with his upper body, she wrung the cloth out one more time and set the bucket away. She would have washed his lower body as well, but he was wearing his hide pants and too heavy for her to lift. This would have to be enough, for now. Very carefully, Áine pulled the furs up to drape them over his form, making sure he was tucked in to stay warm.
Arranging herself to sit on the floor by the bed, she laned on it and watched him in silence. The camp outside had grown silent as the evening hours ticked by, nighttime soon announcing its presence where only a few guards would be up and watching over the camp. Her stomach made a soft growl, yet she ignored it and didn’t move from his bedside.
It would have been a perfect opportunity to try escape, had she still nurtured those thoughts and believed it possible. But by now, after weeks enslaved, Áine knew better than to even try it. The thought of how reliant she’d become of Lothar already stirred difficult feeling within her, some still hateful of him for what he had done, others sad that she would only ever know him as his slave. Grainne was right; had she met Lothar under peaceful circumstances, everything would have been different. But his people were not a peaceful people.
She adjusted the flame on the table oil lamp, so it was small and barely lit. The tent went darker and the shadows grew deep as she sat there, watching his face for every shift and movement. Her smaller hand rested on the bed beside his body and she leaned on it, eyelids heavy with a lighting sensation prodding behind them.
Amastan had wasted little time after leaving Lothar’s tent. With their leader currently indisposed, someone had to oversee the distribution of today’s plunder. He beckoned a couple of clan wives to assist as they would know better what they needed and where they needed it. The women helped him with stern faces and pointed to warriors and hunters to carry the food items off for safe storage. Amastan himself had the warriors gather the weapons and make sure they were stored away at the settlement’s makeshift blacksmith. If Lothar’s slave would be available to work on them was a different matter, but he would address that issue when it arose.
While they worked, he saw at the corner of his eye the handful of new slaves being led off into the old women’s hut to be cleaned. He spotted Tustrund’s new plaything amongst them, and quickly his dark eyes surveyed the area. Sure enough, the younger man was standing not too far from the tent, likely waiting to lay claim to the woman as soon as she emerged from it.
He looked around again, this time searching for a female shape, seeing her nowhere. With a slow exhale to stem the irritation within him, he gave a few parting orders to the people dividing the bounty and approached Tustrund.
“The one-eyed slave. Where is she?” Perhaps his voice was drenched in a darker gruffness than he had intended, because Tustrund’s back straightened and he looked less than pleased about the question.
“Don’t know,” the whelp shrugged with indifference. Amastan’s expression hardened.
“It is your responsibility to know. It was your responsibility to watch her today. You failed.”
“She said nothing wrong,” Tustrund interjected, his eyes narrowing at Amastan’s tense and larger shape. “Calm yourself. The slave did what she was told.”
02:02
“Lothar is injured.” He still wasn’t sure if it was the slave’s fault, or a lucky shot from a frightened archer that had caused the treaty to go so horribly wrong. The villagers had been prepared for a fight; it was not unlikely that the preparation had struck fear in their men. Whatever the reason for it, Amastan could not overlook the fact that Tustrund’s slave had been in the thick of it all. Moreover, he could not overlook the fact that she had been terrified and attempted to flee. “She speaks their language. She knows this location,” he continued, voice dipping to a deeper tone. “Go find her.” It was not a request.
Tustrund grunted, crossing his arms in refusal. “I am busy.”
It caused his ire to surface and Amastan stepped forward, grabbing the younger man by the scruff of his neck. He pushed him forward and away, causing the man to stumble. “You can fuck your new slave later. Go find her! Make sure she doesn’t try to run. Tie her up if you must. I don’t care.”
With those final words, Tustrund grumbled as he straightened, walking away to go search for his slave. Amastan watched him until he disappeared between the tents, his eyes calm yet promising a world of pain should the whelp fail again. Once Tustrund was out of sight, he turned to the guards watching over the tent with the new slaves in it.
“Take the young blond girl to Tustrund’s tent. Make sure she is fed. She’ll need her strength.” Then he left the area to find himself a meal. It had been a long day with many obstacles.
@Nakachu
Her small hands worked over his skin. The many old scars that were there stark and white over his darker complexion. He didn't want to admit it, but the feeling of the cloth moving over his skin was soothing. Exhaustion soon took a hold on him now that he was just laying down. The food might have helped a little bit, but it had not recovered the blood he had lost from the battle.
So he just let his body relax as she washed him and slowly but surely he had found himself drifting off into a heavy sleep. Not to wake again till much later in the night.
She had been by the water for to long already, but the cold was so soothing. She wanted to stay there forever even as the night grew dark around them. She felt almost at peace for now.
But that didn't last long as she suddenly heard footsteps behind her. As she looked up with her one eye she was Tustrund walking to her with angry steps. Why was he here? Where was his new slave? His expression spoke of thunder. She quickly got up to her feet, but not in time for the barbaric male to grab a handful of her hair.
"You!" He shouted at her. "You always get me in trouble!" He spat into her face which made her more angry then she could express against him. "Don't yell at me!" She shouted back of which his only responds was to bring her to the ground amd drag her along behind him. She screamed and yelled at him the entire time. "You are goddamn worthless! Lothar will have your other eye!" Tustrund spoke to her.
She had expected to be dragged to his tent, beating and perhaps taken. That is what had happened the other times he had gotten mad at her. But they changed direction and she was soon brought to the square. The moment she saw that she struggled against him. Yelling things in the language Anja spoke as well, knowing he would not fully understand her.
He bound her to the pole that was on the middle of the square with her hands behind her back and the pole between her shoulder blades. "Shut up!" He warned her and she just spit back into his face like he had done for hers. His responds was a heavy slap that left her stunned and grunting. He wasted no time as he ripped a piece of his shirt and pressed it into her mouth with another one he tied it around her mouth tied enough to pull the corners of her mouth back, essentially gagging her. "That will teach you, bitch! Don't try to run!"
So that was why.. Amastan had told him she had tried to run from the raid. Still she looked back at him angry as he walked away from her. Leaving her tied to that pole as a slav
03:20
e who could be taken by anyone. Luckily not many dared.. following her reputation and the fact she belonged to the right hand of Lothar.
@ShadowCat
He had seated himself on a spare bench by the cooking pit, a bowl of warm stew in his hand and a flagon of ale next to his feet on the ground. Beside him sat a woman, one of the younger clan wives by the looks of it. She ate her food in silence while every now and then poking at the burning logs with a stick to keep the embers going. The warmth of the firepit kept him warm as the coolness of late evening took over, along with the steamy food in his bowl. Amastan tipped to bowl to his mouth slowly, the meat tough but rich in taste as he ate with an absentminded face.
Then he heard it. The unmistakable angry shouting and yelling of a slave woman. Amastan paused mid motion with his bowl, eyes snapping up to watch the scene in front of him. Tustrund was taking his suggestion rather literally and came towards the center of camp with his slave in tow. One of Amastan’s eyebrows raised over the bowl of his food while he slowly tipped it again to take another mouthful. He cared not to move from his spot, watching as Tustrund bound the woman to a pole and gagged her.
“At least he shut her up,” the wife next to him muttered, tending to the firepit with an impassive and bored face, not the slightest concerned by this usual display of punishment. It had Amastan grunt in a nod of agreement, eyes drifting back to the one-eyed slave. Tustrund simply left her there and walked towards the part of camp where his private tent was.
Amastan couldn’t help himself and swept the area with his eyes, wondering if anyone was going to take advantage of the situation. A few younger men stood from their seats, watching the slave woman and speaking amongst themselves. An older man shook his head and barked at them to not touch a higher ranked man’s property. The men sat back down with disgruntled faces. It had Amastan chuckle. Tustrund would not have left her like that unless he considered himself done with her. And she wasn’t carrying his personal mark on her back.
04:36
Free game, was all she was in that moment. It should not be a new situation to her. She’d been in that exact situation before – when she first murdered a man. This was the lowest possible situation a slave could be in, bound up and offered as a meat for the men. Tustrund might as well have bound bent over and naked.
His dark gaze found hers, watching the fear and rage swirl behind that one eye. At least she still had some fight in her. That was good. She would need it. He continued eating his food while he held her gaze, seeing the furious hatred in her eyes. It had him smirk, something akin to pride and pity taking hold of him. Had she not acted so stupid on too many occasions she would have made such a good slave. He could only assume that the muffled sounds she made behind her gag were wild curses. Perhaps losing her tongue would teach her to be mindful or her words. Perhaps crushing her ankles would teach her not to run again.
Following that line of thought, he frowned. What was this lesson supposed to teach her other than to fear them more? It would inspire nothing but a stronger desire to flee than ever before. With a sigh, he tore his eyes off her and finished his meal, gulping down a few mouthfuls of the ale to rinse out his mouth. This time he ignored her, keeping his gaze locked on the embers of the firepit in contemplation. These thoughts were not good. He held no pity for the slave or any other slave in their possession, but he did understand their value to the clan. Treating them as simple flesh for their cocks did nothing to the slaves’ work morals. Perhaps Lothar was onto something after all, treating his slave better than the rest and in return having her improve their weapons. Whip a mule or bait it with a carrot. Or better yet – both.
04:36
His mind made up; his gaze lifted in time to see movement on the opposite side of the open area. The bound slave saw it too and her head whipped to the side, those angered sounds coming from her more fiercely as a man approached. Not a low-ranking man. A valued hunter of the tribe. A man who would not shy away from claiming a discarded slave as his plaything for the night…
@Nakachu
She didn't let it go down easy. For the longest time she pulled against that pole and cursed into the gag. If he thought he would keep her quiet, he was wrong. Yet her one eye kept going from left to right, trying to see if anyone came for her.
And that was how she found Amastan sitting by the side of the ring, a bowl in hand. She instantly narrowed her eyes at him, her anger now focused on the male before her. He had tracked her down, he had seen her fear and he had told Tustrund she had tried to run.
She cursed at him even when her mouth went dry and the corner of her mouth got close to cracking apart. She hated him and blamed him for her position.
But that eye soon found a new target as a male started to walk up to her. She looked up to see him. One of the hunters.. she pressed herself against that pole as he came closer. Her eye was spitting fire, but there was a fear hidden in it now as well.
The hunter grabbed her hair roughly and yanked her to her knees rough enough to make her yelp out into the gag. "Fierce arn't you?" The hunter whispered into her ear as he pressed himself close. "I like them fierce.." he let her know. "Perhaps next time you run I will get to be the one hunting you down."
She cursed at him and yanked to get herself back to her knees, but he was having none of it. Soon another hit landed on that same cheek as Tortrund's had. They all seemed to favor their right.
"You want to play rough?" He spoke to her. A hand came to her leathers, yanking it till her breast was bared and he took her nipple between his fingers, twisting it in a cruel way. She screamed out again. "I can't harm your body... at least not much." He spoke to her as he took the other one to and twisted it till tears sprung to her one eye. "But I can find other ways you make you behave." He warned her.
He yanked her pants down as well, leaving her exposed to the world and the camp. He undid his own belt too and let his pants drop and stripped his shirt off.
05:00
His erection sprung from his hips.
He grabbed her legs in an attempt to spread them apart and she kicked as if her life depended on it. She was not going to be taken easy. If he was raking her, she would fight.
Till his hand came to her face and suddenly closed her nose. With the gag in her mouth she could not draw in air to her lungs. She started to panic and he took his chance to plunge himself deep inside her making her yell out again. "Bitch! I will fuck you bloody! Unconcious or not!" He said to her as he still didn't release her nose waiting for her to almost fade before letting her draw air.
@ShadowCat
Amastan’s face did not reveal any emotions as he watched the hunter pry the leathers off the slave woman, exposing her nudity for all eyes to see. Her body was stunning, he had to admit that. She was a long-legged and curved woman with a healthy layer of muscle on her limbs. He understood why Tustrund had favored her for so long.
As she tried to kick the hunter away, the man merely snatched her leg and kept it in an iron grip, spreading her wide as he pushed it to the side and up. It offered the spectators a better view of her sex, and the younger men began stirring again at their side of the circle. Amastan sipped his ale slowly, watching over the rim of his flagon as the hunter released his member and unceremoniously plunged inside the slave woman. Her muffled screams silenced, replaced by gasped struggles for air while the man pinched her nose.
The hunter plunged into her in deep, hard thrusts that didn’t stop no matter how hard she tried to fight it. If anything, his grip around one of her legs grew tighter as he pinned that leg to the side, hand bruising her skin while he pushed her knee up for good access. He almost lifted her entire weight off the ground with each powerful thrust, and Amastan was suddenly reminded of the scene he had spied in the woods. The scene where Lothar had fucked his slave in a similar, less brutal fashion. It had him shift on the bench, gulping down the rest of his ale until he found his flagon empty. With a frown, he handed the empty cup to the young wife next to him.
“Get me another.”
05:58
The woman squinted at him in irritation but didn’t object and soon enough rose from the bench to do as he said. She did not even bat an eye at the rape happening in front of her. Amastan’s attention was on the pair, the slave woman struggling in futile fury against the hunter as he had his way with her body. The hunter’s stamina soon outmatched hers, growing rougher and faster as he neared his climax. But he didn’t stop there. The man continued, not nearly satisfied with taking her just once. The man’s cum dripped down the woman’s thighs while he kept going. Amastan saw that behind the hunter, a group of men had gathered, slowly growing in numbers as more and more dared to wait their turn on her.
The young wife returned with his flagon refilled, and Amastan took a greedy sip of it while he continued to watch the scene. He leaned his elbows on his knees to try and conceal the tightness at the front of his pants.
@Nakachu
The moment the hunter had forced himself inside of her and stole her from her breath she was no longer paying attention to Amastan anymore. The hunter only let go of her nose when her eyes started to roll back into her head and her body went limp. Once he did she gasped for air at the same time that he pounded himself into her. He had no regards for her pleasure and soon was pressing her deep into the pole, holding up her leg in the air to grant him acces. She still tried to get out of his grip, but he only gripped her harder till she was sure she would be bruised by the morning.
He came into her once and she screamed out with how deep he had pushed himself inside her, but even then he was not ready to stop. The cum soon dripped out of her, feeling the liquid run down the side of the thighs made her stomach turn. Knowing that she could not get away from this guy, knowing that even if she did that she would not get away unharmed either.
She saw the line that was forming behind the hunter. Men already with their dicks out, jerking the hard long lengths as they watched the hunter take her. It had seemed that it only took one person to not be afraid of Tustrund for her fate to be sealed for that night. She was going to be doing this the entire night and there as nothing she could do about it. Once more reduced to the whore for the taking of pleasure. So she just changed her ways. Staring into the the hunters eyes with a look of pure anger and hatred in her eyes, angling her hips as far out of his reach as she could manage.
@ShadowCat
Amastan saw the defiance return to the slave by her angered glare and the way she tried to angle her groin away from the hunter. It had him smirk into his cup, drinking slowly while he watched -not yet ready to intervene.
Her attempts did not dissuade the seasoned hunter, the man merely shifted his grip on her and lifted her, adjusting his hands between her legs and under her rear. The new position had all her weight hanging in his hands and she had no control over her hips. At least the shift busied both of the man's hands and he was no longer suffocating her. "Keep looking at me like that and you might lose your other eye," he warned while maintaining eye contact with her, plunging himself into her harder than before.
Amastan's eyes left them, trailing to the growing line behind the hunter, all younger men eager for the scraps higher ranked warriors left behind. It caused an unwelcome stir within him and his own erection softened a little, wondering if he himself had been this foolish and needy at that age. Probably… His face hardened, knowing all the things these younger men could think to do with this slave. Their inexperience and curiosity would drive them to do unspeakable things just because they could.
Dark eyes returning to the slave, her muffled cries filled the air again as the hunter kept his pace, pushing her forcibly back into the pole and likely driving the air from her lungs by each plunge into her. It was a punishing, brutal pace that would surely render her raw and aching. The hunter's pace grew erratic with his second climax, harsh grunting exhales announcing it seconds before he laughed deep and loud as he spilled himself inside her again. One of the man's hands quickly released her rear and gripped her throat hard, pushing her head back against the pole while he held himself still inside her.
(edited)
18:10
Amastan finished his second ale and slowly rose from the bench, setting the empty flagon away with calm movements. He fetched his axe, a satchel of goods he had secured for himself, as well as a flask of stronger alcohol he'd found amongst the raided products. Tucking the bottle into his stachel, he eventually walked towards the bound slave.
The hunter was done and had removed himself from her, but not before catching a handful of his own cum from between her thighs and smearing it over her face. Some of the burning fury in the slave's eyes faltered at that. A younger man stepped forward to take the hunter's place.
"Enough." Amastan's voice was calm but firm and loud enough to interrupt. He gave the line of men quick glances as he passed them, assessing every one of them in silence.
"Wait your turn," the man who was ready to take her said, gripping the base of his member while he aimed himself to her sex.
Amastan's hand came down on the man's shoulder, pulling him back and away from the slave. "I said enough. Is that moss in your ears, boy?" He couldn't help the tiniest of smirks cross his lips, watching the exasperated disappointment in the man as he rounded the slave and cut her loose from the pole. He cared not to prevent her from falling, watching with a rueful face while she tried to catch herself. Without explanations or parting words, Amastan pulled her to her feet by gripping the nape of her neck. If she fought him, he would shake her and point at the men.
"Do you wish to stay here with them?!"
For the second time that day, he was steering her
ahead of himself. This time away from his own people, out of the camp center and towards his own private tent. Her clothes still lay discarded by the pole, but Amastan didn't care.
"The young men get off on your fear. It makes them feel powerful and important," he grumbled, unsure if she was even listening.
@Nakachu(edited)
It hurt.. already she was hurting.. He had gone in raw and fast, not caring about anything but the pleasure that he would receive from using her. The position he was forcing her into not great either. The pole was digging into her spine, chaving the bare skin that was rubbing up against it. He eyes once more went to the row of people that was forming, already preparing their own length to take her. The look in their eyes.. she knew it too well. By the end of the night she would be bleeding and bruises, used in ways that she never would have asked for. She had blocked out the memory of the last time she had found herself here, but just having them float back was enough to make her hatred fill even more.
He once more plunged into her as he pressed hard on her throat to choke her out. She gasped for air, but nothing came to her lungs. He pumped his entire being into her before letting her go. She could just barely hold herself up against the pole as his support left her. She felt him seeping down her thighs right before his hand reached for it and smeared it over her face. It had her cry out in anger as he did, her one eye cursing him out as he walked off.
But that anger soon went to fear again as the next person walked up. She remembered him.. he was not interested in the hole that the hunter had just used. He had been so young and inexperienced last time. She couldn’t imagine what he would be like now. She once more tested out the ropes and screamed into the gag. Right up into the point that someone suddenly shouted next to her.
Her eye instantly went towards him. Amastan? What was he doing? Her breathing was elevated as she just stood against that pole, cum still dripping down her thighs as he seemed to be stopping the line from moving. Why?
She saw him pull out his weapon. She screamed at first, sure he was going to just end her right now, or maybe even take the suggestion of the hunter to cut out her second eye. So she was not ready for when he cut he
20:49
r down. With her arms no longer supporting her she fell forward and just barely caught herself on the ground. Amastan pulling her back up to her feet with ease. She did try to fight him, trying to get lose from his grip. It was just how she was, especially now that she was already angry and desperate.
“Do you with to stay here with them?!”
It made her freeze in place as she looked at him, her nostrils flaring from her elevated breathing. But it worked and got him what he wanted and she stopped fighting. He pushed her forward, almost making her trip once more but she kept herself up. Her hands were free now, but she did not dare to remove the gag in that moment, even if it had cut into the corners of her mouth and was painful.
“The young men get off on your fear. It makes them feel powerful and important.”
She just kept walking. What was she supposed to do with that information? Not be scared? Sure.. she could just do that, she thought to herself sarcastically. She tried to find where they were going and she soon knew the exact corner. The tents of Lothar and the right hand men. Now she was left to figure out which of those she would be brought to. Was it Tustrund? Was he simply delivering her back to him and tell him to keep her in check? Or maybe to Lothar.. to ask for permission to maim her further. Or did the stoic male was a turn of his own? Perhaps his needs were better served in private, not one to fuck a slave in public. It would make sense.. she didn’t think she had ever seen him with a slave.
@ShadowCat
He did not speak anymore. How she chose to interpret his words would be her own business. He had at least offered his opinion -which was a rare gift considering she was a slave. As they neared his tent, Amastan steered her right to it and pulled aside one of the flaps to push her inside. He briefly debated checking on Lothar, but then decided it was better left to someone skilled with healing. After a no more than a few seconds, he ducked into the tent after the woman.
His tent was not as large as Lothar’s, but it was big enough to house a wide bed-pallet with thick furs covering it. A small table sat next to the bed and a lit oil lamp was perched atop the table. He had a wooden chest in his tent that he used for storage of clothes and other items. Next to the tent opening was a bucket with water, a washcloth, and a bar of soap he had secretly poached from the cleaning supplies. It was simple, practical, and moderate.
The slave had turned to face him, her mouth still gagged and her one eye watching him with wariness. Amastan ignored her, setting his satchel next to the chest and leaning his axe up against it. He pulled the bottle of alcohol from the satchel, uncorked it, and had a taste. It was a strong brew, likely made of barley as that was a common grain in these lands. Directing his attention to the woman in the tent, he offered her the bottle without words, waiting to see if she would take it. He did not care to help her remove the gag, leaving her to take care of it by herself.
Her inner thighs still glistened with the hunter’s cum, and Amastan looked over her naked form with an expression that could best be described as indifferent and objective. Whether she took the bottle or not, he proceeded to take it back and have another swing of it before corking it and setting it on the table. Then he pointed to the bucket of water. “Wash yourself.”(edited)
00:29
It was not a request, not a suggestion, nor was it a kindness. She was filthy. He would not have a filthy slave in his tent. He waited for her to comply to his demand before he stripped out of his shirt and tossed it over the chest to join his other belongings. Then she simply laid down on the bed and threw a thick fur to the floors so she could have it.
“Rest.”
And that was it. No matter how aroused he had been watching her fucked by the hunter in the village centre, he had no interest in pursuing her as a plaything. Not this night anyway. Amastan waited for her to do what he said, if she would. He still did not trust her and perhaps taking her away from the men seeking to have their way with her was a mistake. But the way he saw it, her current hatred for them could only lead to one of two outcomes if she had been left there to suffer. She would try to run away at the first possible moment and lose more than her eye. Or she would snap and kill a man again, only to find that death would be a kindness.
“You run, you die,” was all he said before his hand reached out to extinguish the flame in the oil lamp.
@Nakachu
When he pushed her inside of his tent she was more confused then ever. She turned around quickly, not willing to risk having her back at him as he entered behind her. Why was she here? Why did he bring her here? Did he really want a turn with her himself? Or would he just give her his punishment himself? She didn’t know. So she just stood there with her eyebrows knitted into anger and she took him in.
The offer of the drink was the first moment she truly got confused. But she didn’t hesitate to grab the bottle that was offered. The slaves never got alcohol and right now she would welcome anything that would help her calm her mind. She reach up for the knot at the back of her head and undid the gag. Wincing as the fabric left the corners of her mouth. They were red and raw from how tight it had been. As she took the other piece out of her mouth she found herself smacking and lapping at her own mouth, almost like a dog, to try and get the moisture running again. Only then did she take a swig, only to find it stinging painfully at the corners of her mouth. She instantly whined through the mouth full as she swallowed and then just let him take it back.
Finding no reason to go against his request she washed herself. Happy to run the cloth between her legs and getting rid of the thick sticky liquid that the male had coated her in. She dunked the cloth again and wiped down her face as well, then her breasts and finally the rest of her body. The cool water made her feel better, not having the scent of the hunter lingering around her anymore helped as well.
His second demand was just as simple to follow and she just looked at him again before she lowered herself to the floor. She wrapped the fur around herself, welcoming its warmth against her naked skin. Was he being kind to her? Why? She didn’t trust him. Even when his warning came through and the tent was plunged into darkness she did not trust that he would simply let her sleep.
For the longest time she just laid
04:41
there, listening for signs of his moving. Signs that he would grab her in the dark and take her anyway. But nothing happened. Yet, she could not sleep like this either. Her body was to tense, the soreness between her legs still a reminder of what had happened in the square. So she just listened to his breathing, waiting for her to fall asleep.
@ShadowCat
Blissfully unaware of the torment her friend was going through, Áine sat on the floor of the tent still leaned up against the fur bed and watching Lothar. She sat with him like that all night, studied his face, followed his defined features with an index finger and thought about who he was with pain. Lothar was either asleep or unconscious; she didn’t know which one. The only thing she knew was that despite everything, she was glad he had made it back. A happiness that puzzled her as much as it unnerved her.
The floor was hard and cold to sit on, and she considered lying down with him in the bed. The weariness as night grew on was close to paralyzing. She was already working hard during her days, tired, hungry and cold. She had a lightening pressure behind her eyes. Her face felt swollen and her skin too tight.
The man in the bed moved a little and Áine immediately removed her hand from his face. She had let her thoughts and mind wander while she followed his jawline with her finger. Hesitantly she raised the fur blanket and placed her palm on his bandaged chest. He was warm, but not feverish. Her shift of touch must have disturbed him, because suddenly his unharmed arm lifted, and a large hand suddenly shot out and grabbed her arm.
Áine froze, watching his face intently. His eyelids fluttered a little before he managed open them, and he stared at her through the darkness of the tent. His eyes, almost black, looked for a moment wild and crazed as if he was about to rip her in half. Áine held her breath, not daring to move. It only lasted a second, and when he recognized her and where he was, he relaxed and released his hold.
“Anja.” His voice was husky and deep. Áine sat up on the edge of his bed to prevent him from moving and he released her arm from his grip.
“Quiet,” she whispered. “Rest.” Simple commands she’d learned to say, enough to make herself understood.
02:35
Lothar looked down at himself under the blanked before his eyes settled on her again. They were not murderous black anymore, but still unsettling and hard as he looked at her. For a few seconds, the tent was eerily silent, until he exhaled slowly through his nose and relaxed back into the bed. Shortly after, his eyes closed again, and he presumably drifted back asleep. Áine sighed as well, settling back to sit beside him with one hand resting on his chest. His heartbeats were strong and steady, which had to be a good sign.
Not long after, she drifted into a light slumber as well, shuddering slightly against the cold.
Amastan had laid awake for a long time, listening to the slave woman’s bated breaths while he assumed she was litening for his. It took her a while to relax, but eventually the ordeals of a long day claimed her and he heard her steady breaths go slower and deeper with sleep. Only then did he shift on the bed to lie on his side, making himself comfortable and following her into that rest.
He had half expected her to try and harm him during the night. His axe was sitting right there after all. Amastan was a light sleeper, and he woke several times during the night. But each time he woke, he heard her sleep as well. The rest of the camp was mostly silent, a few of the new slaves could be heard crying somewhere further off. There was muffled sounds of men laughing. No sound was unusual and he would fall back asleep shortly.
When daylight announced it presence, he awoke fully and rose from the bed without hesitation. The woman was still sleeping, curled up on her side and tucked into the furs so deep only a handful of her tousled black hair stood up from the pile. He used his foot to wake her, placing it on her body with a hard shove. She whimpered, a sleepy and childlike sound as she made a sound pf complaint, and he could see movement under the fur blanket.
“Get up,” he grumbled once he was certain she had opened her eye, evident by how she was hiding her face under the blanket. He bent over to pick it up, ripping the warm comfort away from her naked body and tossing it back onto his bed where it belonged. It stirred her to sit up, meeting his eyes with her one eye glazed in annoyance. It had him chuckle that even now, she would dare to show her temper. “You have work. Get up,” he repeated, turning away from her to ready himself for another day. He pulled his shirt on and strapped a thick leather belt to his waist, the axe hanging heavily from it. Once done, he turned back to her.
02:35
“Find yourself new clothes and get to work.”
Then he left the tent and headed straight for the old lady’s tent -the woman who would see to healing Lothar. He needed to know if their warchief was well enough to remove the arrow. If he would survive at all.
@Nakachu
Lothar had no recollection of what had happened during the night. His temperature had ran slightly high, though not to something alarming. By the morning it had gone down a small bit again. But when he finally stirred awake he could not say that he was feeling good. Though his body had started to recover from the blood he had lost, the wound on his shoulder was more sore then ever.
He grunted loudly as he forced himself upright, a growl leaving his teeth that spoke of the pain that he felt. His flesh had swollen around the arrow shaft, despite how tight they had bandaged him. Even now he could feel his own heartbeat beating against the arrow. It felt hot and annoying, the pulsing painful each time his heart beat.
He searched for Anja and found her asleep on the floor. He woke her up and the pain he was in was instantly clear written on his face. “Get the elder.” He spoke to her. “The woman!” He growled at her when she didn’t seem to understand. He pointed to his shoulder. “Get help.” He then tried and finally she seemed to understand. He was not entirely angry with her, but he just was grumpy from waking up in pain like that.
The elder woman came in the tent soon enough along with two wives to assist her. “I see you are awake, your color is better.” She spoke to him and he could only shoot her an angry scowl. “Get this arrow out of me.” He said through gritted teeth. “That would not be wi..” she started but Lothar interrupted her. “Get it out of me!” He barked. The elder didn’t seem to be phased by his outburst. She just looked at him for a moment. He was still her leader, even if he knew nothing of medicine. “Of course.” She eventually said. “Get some men in here to hold him down.” She ordered the two wives and they soon went out to search for willing males.
Eventually she had fallen asleep as well. For the longest time she had been convinced that he would wake up and decide he wanted her anyway. She had known the men of this clan. Almost none of them gave up the opportunity to fuck a slave raw. This much had become evident from the line that had quickly filed in the center that night.
That night.. he had saved her from a terrible punishment. Had simply cut her loose and brought her into the comfort of his tent. Well.. comfort, she was still made to sleep on the floor. But all in all he had seemed to wish to protect her after the hunter had taken her. Why? She had not known Amastan to ever care. It confused her.
But eventually sleep had found her and she had slept deep, knowing that the male seemed uninterested in her. A sleep that was only broken when she felt the push of his foot in her back. She did complain, the hard shove having hurt her back that was sensitive from the position she had been held in the night before. The blanket was soon pulled away from her, her naked form revealed before his eyes. The cold air instantly went over her skin, causing goosebumps and her nipples to perk up. She looked towards him with her eye, sure that now was the time he would take her, but once more.. he surprised her. That didn’t stop her from showing displeasure from the situation though.
But she did pick herself up from the floor as he demanded. Perhaps her bit of obedience his reward for shielding her last night. She watched him get dressed, her eyes going over his body. His long ponytail hanging down his back. “Yes, sir.” She said in an annoying way as he told her to find herself clothes and get to work right before he left.
Once he was gone she found one of his undershirts, made of stained white cotton and put it over her. It was long enough to cover her rear and her chest, something that would make sure that she didn’t need to run around the camp naked. She made her way outside to go and find herself the clothin
05:19
g she needed.
She did not get far however. An angry Tustrund had seen her come out of Amastan’s tent. Before she had a chance to even react her had grabbed her by the hair. “You were supposed to be out last night!” He shouted at her. “You think you can just run from you punishment girl!?” He spit into her face. He started to drag her along and she shouted at him in displeasure. He did not seem to care and even when she tripped he just pulled her along by her hair. The big shirt she was wearing crawling up and leaving her almost just as naked to others eyes as she would have been.
Once Tustrund found Amastan at the tent of the elder he threw her at his feet. “Why do I see my bitch crawling out of your tent, Brother.” He growled at the male, the term brother being said in a mocking way. “I was teaching her a lesson!”
@ShadowCat
Amastan had debated going to check on Lothar himself, but doing so would likely irritate their chieftain unnecessarily. Instead, he was waiting outside the Elder woman’s tent while she gathered her tools, herbs and concoctions. She had already informed him she had not seen to Lothar yet, but that she would very shortly. Her son was helping her collect a satchel full of aid. While the camp was not large, it was simply impractical to have to run between tents and get everything they needed -when they needed it. The woman was wise to be prepared.
That’s when he heard the commotion coming his way; a woman yelling angrily and a man cussing through clenched teeth. He turned towards the commotion the same second Tustrund threw the one-eyed slave at his feet. Amastan didn’t even bat an eye at the sight or try to help her, simply watching as she scrambled to get back on her own feet. Then his gaze adjusted to Tustrund’s angered expression, one eyebrow rising slightly in surprise as if questioning the younger man’s intelligence. “Because she slept there,” he informed casually turning fully to face Tustrund as he crossed his arms over his chest, tilting one eye at him with the smallest of smirks playing on his lips.
“And what lesson were you teaching her?” he asked then, admitting to himself his curiosity was piqued enough to indulge this pointless conversation. Amastan stood calmly with his back straight, looking right at the younger man with honest curiosity. He outmatched Tustrund both in size, battle prowess, and age. The younger man’s anger did not even phase him.
Áine hurriedly left Lothar’s tent, searching with her eyes for familiar faces. Get help, he’d said. Elder. Elder? It was a word she didn’t know, and she tested it on her tongue to try and say it. It rolled off awkwardly, but hopefully someone would understand.
Setting off into the camp, she looked for someone she could speak with. She asked one woman -a wife- and the woman pointed her in the direction of a tent at the far back of the camp. Áine didn’t take her time to thank the woman and jogged towards it.
There, she spotted Lothar’s two most trusted men, and… Grainne? Her heart leapt in her chest of worry and relief as she hurried towards them. The large man with the ponytail was the first to spot her, his eyebrows shifting from a scowl to a rise in surprise. Áine slowed her jog, pointing back towards the was she’d come from.
“Lothar…”
The man nodded and said a few hard words over his shoulder, and shortly after the elderly woman and younger man from the night before emerged from the tent, squinting at Áine. The woman shared a few words with the two men who had seemed like friction was going on between them, and they soon followed her as all four began moving. Áine moved to follow as well, but the man with the long ponytail stopped her with a hand in the air.
“Work. Now.”
“I can help,” Áine protested, her grey eyes wide and shifting towards the others disappearing between the tents.
06:51
The tall man sook his head, expression going sterner. “No.” His dark eyes moved over her shoulder and he spoke again, this time faster. Áine turned as saw it was Grainne he spoke to. “Take her with you. You have work, both of you.” When neither woman moved, he lost his patience and roared. “NOW!”
Áine practically recoiled away from him, shying back to where Grainne stood. Only then did she notice that her friend wasn’t wearing her usual clothing. “What happened to you?” she asked, looking back to the man as he’d turned to march after the others. She bit her lip, that ball of anxious worry coiling into a painful pit in her stomach.
@Nakachu
She just stumbled down to the floor as the two men argued over her. She was once more surprised when Amastan seemed to be protecting her. Her eye went up to look at him, wondering what he was thinking. Or was he just not appreciative of the younger male shouting at him that way. Tustrund was young for being a right hand. He had earned it in his own ways, but it also made him still very much below Amastan, the male who had almost earned the title of leader himself.
"Fucking respect!" Tustrund spit into Amastan's face, obviously not ready to back down from the male. But that was the exact moment that the woman came out and kind of got in between them. She saw Anja with them, their eyes meeting one another. Soon they were told to go and get back to work and she was glad to be gone from the two fighting males in that moment.
She quickly motioned for Anja to follow them and if she resisted she would just grab the girls arm and drag her along. She was still taller and stronger then that she was. "What happened to you?" She looked over her shoulder to Anja. "I don't even know anymore.." she said with a scoff. She brought her to the usual place and grabbed the clothes to take them to the river. She rummaged through it and quickly found something to wear that would cover her up more. "They wanted me to translate during the raid.." she started explaining. "It went wrong.. so they raided them anyway. I got.. scared. So I hid away. Amastan fucking found me." she cursed as she was finally back in an outfit she felt sort of comfortable with. "He told Tustrund about it who figured he would teach me a lesson by tying me up to the pole in the center of the square, letting anyone have their way with me." she growled as she said it. "Amastan cut me off after one of the hunters took me and kept me in his tent for the night.. nothing happened. And now Tustrund is on his ass for getting me off there. Which also mean he is on my ass.."
@ShadowCat
Áine barely listened to Grainne’s story, even if she knew she should. Her attention and worries were too preoccupied with Lothar and what was happening to him. Her grey eyes kept wandering in the direction of his tent, biting her lip and wondering how angry they would be if she ignored orders and went there anyway. Probably very. Looking over at Grainne as she informed her about yesterday’s events, Áine tilted her head with a frown.
“You mean he left you to be… Oh, I see.” Her eyes searched Grainne’s face, looking for signs of distress, that the incident had broken her or in some way changed her. But Grainne acted as her usual, no-nonsense self and collected baskets of dirty clothes on their way to the river. “Why would… Amastan? Why would he help you? Did he say anything? And Lothar. What happened to him yesterday?”
The image of Lothar’s unusually pale face against the fur bed swiveled in her mind, unwilling to leave her be. Why she was even so worried, she couldn’t say. He was a monster like the rest of them, a murderer, abusive, and controlling. But he does care for you, a small voice reminded her, thinking about his rage when she’d been beaten by one of his hunters. However, she wasn’t certain he cared for her as much as he cared for his pride and his right to have his personal slave under his own control.
He tries to please you, the voice returned, insisting that there was more to Lothar than she readily acknowledged. Only when I don’t fight him. If I fight him, he’s just as bad as the others. With a hard swallow, she arranged the baskets along the riverbank and sat down along with Grainne, picking up the first piece of clothing in a pile of many to start her day.
“Grainne? Are you… Are you okay?” she looked sideways at her friend, again searching for something, worry and concern in her expression.
He caught up with the others just as two of the wives came out of Lothar’s tent, asking for assistance in holding him down while they removed the arrow. Tustrund was waiting outside the tent as well, the younger man’s face stern and stormy with his wounded pride. Amastan cared not to entertain the whelp’s antics and simply ignored him, entering Lothar’s tent upon the women’s beckoning.
The tent had a smell to it. The smell of sweat, blood, and a hint of building infection. Amastan walked up to Lothar’s bed and smiled down at their leader. The Elder woman had given Lothar an alcoholic sedative that would relieve some of his pain, but not all. “A good day to drink, brother,” he nodded towards the bottle in Lothar’s hand.
Amastan moved to the side of his pallet bed, placing one knee on it and watching as the Elder slowly unwrapped the bindings around Lothar’s wound. The shaft of the arrow soon came into view, his skin red and raw and angrily hugging around the wooden splinter. It had to hurt, no doubt.
“Drink up,” the woman commanded while she readied clean bandages and other ointments on the table. “Get me a set of tongs from the smithy,” she said, pointing at Tustrund. If the man was displeased about being sent off like an errand boy, she clearly didn’t care and barked at him to get moving. Amatsan simply watched in amusement as the younger man left the tent while grumbling incoherently to himself.
“Your boy there needs a talking to,” he said, looking down at Lothar. “Better yet, a beating to remind him of his responsibilities. His translator slave nearly got away yesterday while he was busy groping up a new girl.” He paused and considered Lothar’s stern and concentrated expression, realizing now was not the time to bother him with such matters. “I will take care of it with your permission.”
@Nakachu
“I don’t even know..” she admitted as Anja asked her why Amastan had helped her and what had happened the day before. “They had decided that I was their little translator for the raid. They were going to offer protection in exchange for goods, instead of sacking the village. I believe they then wanted to come back weeks later and raid it anyway. Getting a double bounty. So they needed me.. because I speak both languages.” She explained to Anja, trying to let her know why she had been there.
“The moment they tried to start the negotiation an archer shot Lothar from his horse.” She said. “It all happened so fast.. the raid starting, yelling everywhere, shouts from the villagers as they were cut down. It was terrible Anja..” she said, her hand shaking slightly as she recalled it. She quickly shook it away. As she looked back at Anja she saw the hurt in the girls face. Had she fallen for him? Was that why? Was she concerned that Lothar might die?
But before she could ask anything Anja seemed to ask her first if she was alright. “I don’t know..” she admitted. “Amastan got me in a bad place by undermining Tustrund and releasing me. I am screwed.. I don’t see any way around it. He might just leave me for the dogs, or cut of my limbs to repay me for this.” She could honestly not help the fear that she felt. If these two men decided to fight over her, she might as just drown herself in this river.
“How about you..?” She asked then. “Are you worried about Lothar?” She studied her face. “He will be fine.. he is much tougher then you think.”
Lothar was not having the best time. He had barked at them to take the arrow out of him, but the closer they got the more he might have regretted the order. Just removing the bandage from around him was causing him enough pain to make his brain cloudy. So he was thankful when the elder handed him the alcoholic beverage. Ready to drink himself into oblivion before those tongs came to the tent from the smithy. He drank deep right at the moment that Amastan came in.
Just from the look on the male face, he could tell something was going on outside. “Speak.” He barked at his second in command before putting the drink to his lips once more. The moment he started about the raid and Tustrund he grunted deep. Great.. his right hands fighting among themselves. Just what he needed at that moment. “I can’t have you two going at each other’s throat over a goddamn slave.” He muttered at Amastan as he finished the last of the canister and slammed it down on the table. He sighed deep, something that made his flinch as it moved the arrow. “Take care of it. Do what you see fit.” He then said, he didn’t care in that moment. They figure it out among themselves.
@ShadowCat
He stared down at Lothar for many seconds, confusion at first making him frown in surprise. He thought they were fighting over the slave? The idea had him laugh, a sudden and deep booming laugh that had him topple slightly forward. It was enough to startle the females in the tent and Amastan silenced while wiping his eyes as if ridding himself of an unwanted image.
“I care not about the slave,” he then informed, voice back to its calm and neutral self. “I care that the man we entrust to watch our backs and see to the safety of our clan is thinking more with his cock than his brain. That slave was his responsibility. It was his job to oversee her translation, the negotiation. But at the first sight of a new woman he left her free to try and escape. If found, she would be able to point out the location of this camp, with information on you, me, our children and everyone else here. That, my Brother, is what I care about. The whelp is young, and I cannot fault him for that. But he should know better. He needs to learn.”
While he talked, the man in question returned with the tongs from the smithy. He handed them wordlessly to the Elder woman and she gave both men a nod to hold Lothar still. Amastan, with his knee still on her pallet bed, adjusted so he was leaning most of his weight onto Lothar’s good shoulder and arm. Tustrund placed his own weight on Lothar’s other arm, locking the man in place so his wiggle movement was minimal. The old woman took the bottle away from Lothar and shoved a piece of leather in his mouth to bite down on.
01:14
Then she used the tongs to get a good grip on the sleek arrow splinter, angling the pull straight out of him to minimize damage to the surrounding tissue. She pulled with strength surprising for someone her old age. Lothar’s body was at first unwilling to let go of the piece, and when it eventually started moving a sickening sound of flesh ripping followed.
With the wood finally out of him, the wound gaped uglily and began bleeding. A lot.
The tent suddenly grew hectic as she barked orders to her son and the other wives, to fetch clean water and clean cloths. She herself used both hands and leaned all her weight on the wound to stem the bleeding. There was no sense in stitching up the wound while it still bled.
Amastan held Lothar still with an impassive face, watching his pain with detachment. An arrow could kill a man, but he had also seen men survive worse. This was nothing.
Meanwhile at the river, Áine busied herself with her work while she listened to Grainne’s story. The still fresh but suppressed memory of the raid on her own village came to her, the screams as her people were slain without mercy. Her father being cut down after fighting so desperately. Her sister Eira… the cruel looks on the men’s faces as they… No.
She blinked the stinging out of her eyes, glancing at Grainne and understanding that reliving such an experience must have brought similar memories to her friend. She could not even begin to guess the reasons for Amastan helping her friend. He had come to Áine’s rescue once as well, but not out of concern for her safety. More out of concern for her as Lothar’s property. If he respected his fellow warriors’ claim, why would he undermine Tustrund? Áine shook her head at that, equally confused about it as Grainne seemed to be.
“Lothar… You said so yourself. Under his claim I am safe. Safe from anyone but himself. And he’s not… he does not treat me like I see other slaves treated.”
Her worry dug itself deep again, burrowing into a part of her she wasn’t ready to face. Lothar was the reason for her situation, but without him her situation could have been so much worse. If he was to die, what would become of her? The stinging in her eyes persisted and she angrily punched the water as she dunked a new piece of cloth into it, biting her lip in a furious attempt not to cry. “I know he’s tough. I’ve seen the scars. But that does not mean he is indestructible.” Her voice was thick with the suppressed desire to cry, and she silenced, continuing her work with a sharp focus so she wouldn’t break under the pressure.
@Nakachu
He had been about to comment about the whole ordeal with the slave when Tustrund came back with the thongs in hand. He could not help the low growl that left him, knowing what was coming next. He didn't feel the strongest in that moment and even if the booze was slowly numbing his mind he was not looking forward to this at all. "Just take care of it." he said to Amastan as Tustrund gave them a look, wondering what had been spoken about. Yet Lothar would speak no more about it. He had other things to occupy his mind.
And just like that he was being held down by the guys at his side, their weight enough to make his limbs hurt from the pressure. He bit down on that piece of leather, not wanting to damage his teeth. Yet the moment she started pulling he bucked against them, veins popping in his neck and face as he bit down on that piece of leather and screamed into the air. His voice probably heard for a few tents past where he was. The arrow didn't move much at first, but then it ripped away from him. He screamed out loud once more and could feel the hot rush of the blood over his chest as it left him.
The orders that were barked went past him, his breathing fast and deep. The woman leaning down on top of him to press against the wound hurt him as well. He really didn't want to show his weakness there, but at the same time it was impossible for him to hold himself still and steady instead of trashing against them. The elder did her best to keep the blood from leaving his body, yet his chest and sides were soon covered in his own blood once more. The elder had probably been right to let him recover for a full night, or this bloodloss might have killed him after what he had already lost the day before. His teeth still grabbing into that piece of leather for dear life.
They just needed to get the bleeding under control and hope that the infection didn't kill him after.
She couldn't help the small bit of suspicion she felt as Anja claimed her worries stemmed from protecting herself. She had seen her with Lothar. The relationship between them was rough but almost.. loving? She didn't fully know how to describe it. But just for her safety? It didn't feel like that type of worry. But of course she was not going to say that out loud.
"Nobody is indestructable.." She said slowly as her hand idly went to the scar on her eye. She hated the position she had found herself in. Stuck between two warrior of equal rank. Part of her wishing that he had just left her on that pole the night before. She would have been wrecked, she would have hated it, but at least it would have been done. She shook it from her mind just the same.
It was right at that moment that Lothar's scream rang in the air. Even from this far away the low grunt could be almost felt in their soul. Her head instantly turned to Anja. "Don't.." she warned her, knowing she was likely to bolt.
@ShadowCat
The Elder woman worked quickly. As soon as more and clean strips of cloth and bandages came to the table, she released the pressure on Lothar’s shoulder for long enough to pour some kind of liquid into the wound. It likely stung a lot, making its way through the canal the arrow had created in his body and coloring the bedfurs beneath him in a sickly, pale red color. Then she added pressure again, holding it with all her weight for many minutes until the bleeding seemed to slow down to a minimum. Once it did, she could release the pressure and start bandaging his shoulder.
Amastan had held Lothar down the entire time, but this time looked at the Elder woman with confusion. “No stitches?”
She shook her head while gesturing for the men to lift and support Lothar into a sitting position so she could reach around his body. “No. Wound go through. If I stitch him, it will seal up an infection. It is better to heal from inside and push infection out of the body, not close it up.”
He shook his head, not sure he understood her reasoning, but didn’t dare argue with her. She knew better than him how to treat a wound like this. He was at least glad to see that they had gotten the bleeding under control. While Amastan and Tustrund supported Lothar’s upper body so she could apply new bandages tightly around his shoulder and diagonally across his chest to support them, it struck him that he didn’t see Lothar as weakened from this. While true his plan to negotiate with the villagers had gone horribly wrong and was a bold move in the first place, at least Lothar had the balls to try something new.
As the Elder woman finished bandaging Lothar and securing the bandage with a tightly pulled knot, she stepped back and readied a bottle of something for Lothar to drink. If he was conscious, she would just hand it to him. If unconscious, she would tilt his head down and try to make him drink it on reflex, avoiding that he choked on it.
02:55
“He needs someone to watch him. Lothar is proud, will not say if he feels sick.”
“He has a slave,” Amastan added, looking around for the redhead for a moment before he remembered that he’d sent her to the river to work.
The woman nodded. “Good. She can keep watch over him.”
Amastan looked at Tustrund and gave the younger man a short nod. “Go to the river and collect Lothar’s slave.” The he looked down at Lothar again and grinned, trying to instill some camaraderie back into their leader. “You’ll pull through, brother. Your body has been through worse.”
Áine had risen to her feet at the sound of Lothar’s pain through the camp. Her grey eyes were wide, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, hands helplessly clenched around nothing. She only stayed put by Grainne’s order, realizing that if she barged in there whoever was taking care of Lothar might not appreciate it. Moreover, it would make her worry too obvious.
With a sigh, she kneeled back down on the riverbank and resumed her work, scrubbing filthy clothes together to clean them. “Why are you so upset about Amastan helping you?” she asked to divert her own attention. “I thought Tustrund mistreated you anyways.”
Her quick glance at the one-eyed woman was inquiring and somewhat surprised. “I mean… If Tustrund is really that bad and he left you out for the others to… do as they pleased with. Would you not be grateful to have been spared? I know I would….”
She shifted her attention back to the clothes, rubbing them fiercely against each other to remove stains from them. Most of the clothes today had been worn by warriors the day before, and most were stained by the blood of their victims. It was almost cruel and comical, to have their slaves wash these clothes, being victims of such raids themselves.
Behind them, a sharp voice caught their attention. Áine turned to see Tustrund there, looking less than pleased and scowling at them both. Áine quickly moved to Grainne’s side, worrying he was there to harm her friend again. What she could possibly do against him, didn’t matter. What mattered was to try and stop it.
@Nakachu
The liquid being poured into his was absolute torture and he once more fought against the two men that held him down. His muscles bulging as another scream was gritted into that piece of leather. He trashed as much as he could till she finally stopped pouring and he sunk into the bed. His forehead and chest covered in sweat from the pain he had endured. But he recovered quickly, or at least seemed to as he settled down, breathing fast. Even if at some point he pain got the better of him, he moment he got his mind back he refused to show it.
He was let go and just looked at Amastan and Tustrund with both hate and respect in his eyes. He was helped upright so that the woman could bandage his wounds and he just closed his eyes so he would not show his pain again. He spit the piece of leather out of his mouth, teeth marks carved deep into the thick hide. He was lightheaded, especially now that he was sitting up right, the world spinning around him. The conversation that went on around him went past him entirely, or else he would have probably barked that he needed nobody to keep watch over him. But instead he just concentrated on staying conscious. When the bottle was pressed into his hand he brought it to his lips instantly on instincts, downing the liquid that was inside. It tasted aweful, but he drank it anyway.
“You will pull through, brother. Your body has been through worse.” Lothar looked up towards the brother who was around his age. “Wipe that smile of your face before I punch it off.” He barked, though a hearthy chuckle soon followed. One that was quickly held back again at the pain it caused in the wound. “Next time you get hit by an arrow.” He added to it, but there was a sense of humor hidden in it.
She was surprised that Anja stayed put, having been so sure the girl would bolt at the scream that she had heard. Even when she didn’t, Grainne did not trust her fully and kept a close eye on her. “He does..” he said as she asked about Tustrund. “But at least I would have known that was it.” She said out loud. “Now I just need to wait and see what kind of cruel punishment he has ready for me because I got let off last night.” She rolled her eyes, feeling so angry at the whole situation. “And you can get your ass that Amastan will not there to save me this time.” She grumbled.
She stayed quiet till they heard the voice behind them. Fuck.. She turned to see Tustrund there, sure he had come to find her after he had dealt with Lothar’s situation. “You, Come.” He spoke to Anja instead and she just looked towards Anja and then back to Tustrund. “Don’t think I forgot about you!” He yelled at Grainne. “You will learn your place. At the bottom of my fucking foot.” He said. As she was ready to get up from her seat he waved her off. “You work, those clothes don’t clean themselves. I expect them done by the end.” She kept her grumble to herself. Great.. now he was going to have two reasons to get her, because she was not finishing this in time.
Meanwhile Tustrund would grab Anja’s arm roughly and pull her along. He was not going to have another slave run from him. He had learned his lesson. He spoke nothing to her as he dragged her to that tent and then shoved her inside. The smell of what had just happened there still clear in the air. Lothar sitting weakly on top of the pallet bed and the Elder and her son cleaning up to leave.
@ShadowCat
He chuckled at Lothar’s comment, gesturing to his clothed chest with a grin on his face. Underneath his shirt, he had just about as many scars as Lothar, perhaps more seeing as Lothar was a better fighter than himself. There were scars from cuts and slashes, stab wounds, and arrows. “Already have, brother. More than once.” How they were both breathing and living was a mystery, and Amastan couldn’t help wonder if they’d survived out of mere stubbornness alone.
His attention was interrupted as Tustrund reemerged at the tent entrance, hauling that small redhead slave with him. The younger warrior’s face was a study of annoyance, anger, indignance and… embracement? He violently threw the girl ahead of himself, making her fall to her knees in the tent. She looked petrified for many moments, until her grey eyes settled on Lothar on the bed.
Amastan gave his leader a nod. “If you need anything, she’ll get it for you.” Then he moved away from the bed pallet, ushering Tustrund ahead of himself and out of the tent. Once they stepped outside, he grabbed Tustrund’s arm harshly.
“Do you wish to repeat your disrespect for me earlier, or are we done here?” His face was hard and revealed no emotion other than anger. He’d beat the smaller man into a bloody pulp if that’s what was needed.
Inside the tent, Áine collected herself from the floor. She had not understood much of the men’s words, but she was happy to see Lothar sitting up and being awake. The stench of sweat and blood clung to the stale air in the tent, and she made a note to air it out as soon as Lothar was tucked in and could stay warm. She moved towards him, her grey eyes shy of his temper and how he might react to her presence.
“Are you… hungry?” she asked slowly, speaking the words through her clumsy accent and trying to sound calm. The fact that she herself had not eaten in almost two days was only a minor sidetrack in her mind. She was only allowed to eat whenever he fed her after all. She moved closer, looking at the bandages around his shoulder and crossing his chest. They were tightly wound around his skin, likely to prevent any more bleeding.
The older woman and her son had not left yet, and the woman eventually grabbed Áine’s hand to get her attention. She looked at Áine with a stern face and pointed to Lothar. “Bandages must not be disturbed. If he gets a fever, come find me.” She grabbed a flask from her satchel and pushed it into Áine’s hands. “He must drink it four times a day. Make sure he does. Big baby will not like the taste.” Then she grinned and gave Lothar a small nod, before gesturing for her son to accompany her out of the tent.
Áine looked down at the bottle in her hand, then back up at Lothar. Her expression could best be described as one of hopelessness. She’d only understood a fraction of the woman’s words.
@Nakachu
And just like that the tent had suddenly grown quiet. His right hand men, that had just held him down like he was a pig for slaughter, out of the tent and even the elder had left. The only one left behind was the slave that had begged him to come for the raid the day prior and was now forced to nurse a weakened man. Even now as he was sitting up he could feel his mind spinning and his vision was not clear in that moment. He had lost a lot of blood and the infection was slowly growing in his system, making him sick.
He looked at Anja, finding her eyes that told him that she had barely understood what had just gone down. He sighed deep, but he couldn't blame her for not understand. "Don't touch." he said as he pointed to the bandage on his shoulder. Then he moved his hand to his forehead. "Hot is bad, find Elder." he said. Then finally he pointed to the flask that had been pressed into her hand. "Four times a day." he said, holding up four fingers. It was the best he could do to explain to her what had been said. At the same time he felt like he was being babied and he hated it. He was a big man, he could take care of his own needs.
He looked down at Anja before. He had not seen her since that morning when she had been send out and even then he had not fully been aware. "Bring me food." he then said, coming back to the question she had asked.
@ShadowCat
She nodded multiple times as Lothar did his best to explain what had been said, understanding a little more. Her eyes drifted down to the bottle in her hands, wondering what it could be but trusting that a clan elder would do what was in their leader’s best interest.
When he told her to get food, her face brightened slightly with finally having something she could actually help with. She sat the bottle down on the table next to his pallet bed and moved to the flaps of the tent. She left one flap hallway open to try and let some fresh air in there while she was gone. Outside, she spotted Amastan and Tustrund in a conversation that looked less than friendly, but she didn’t linger to watch. Instead, she hurried through the settlement towards the center where the wives were preparing food. It was not time for dinner yet, but she hoped they would have something.
Her eyes fell on the pole stuck to the center of the open area, spotting discarded leather clothing on the ground. Grainne… A small lump of nausea formed in her throat and she pried her eyes away from the pile, focusing in the cooking spit instead and the wife that was tending to it.
“I need food,” she said as she approached, earning herself a scowl and a scoff from the woman who instantly recognized her as a slave. “For Lothar,” she then insisted, stepping closer to the cooking fire and glaring at the wife. The woman stopped stirring the large pot and took a moment to give Áine a more thorough look, eventually offering a small nod. She fetched a wooden tray and placed bread, cheese, and salted meat on it. A good portion suitable for a man. Áine could only guess that the food had been taken from the village they raided the previous day.
“Drink?” she asked as she accepted the wooden tray, taking the flagon of ale that was handed to her shortly after. With the tray of food and the ale in hand, she balanced it all back towards Lothar’s tent, resisting hard the urge to have a taste of anything. It wa
As she left the tent he allowed himself a small bit of the freedom to just be in pain for a moment. He let his head hang and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. His body felt heavy and hot, yet cold at the same time. He was not quite at the fever point yet, but the infection was slowly starting to get a hold of him. No matter how touch he was of a man, even he was not immune to the pain that wrecked his body.
After a few minutes he felt a bit better. The sweat on his skin was starting to dry up and he no longer felt as light headed from the pain as he had before. Yet he did not dare to actually get up from his place on that pallet bed.
Once Anja returned he looked back up at her. His eyes seemed a little bit more clear. He looked down at he tray of food that she brought and instantly felt his body wanting to reject it. Even if he knew that he would need that for his recovery, he was simply not up for it. So when she came closer he took the ale flagon and drank that down, but didn’t move to take the food at all. He wondered if she had even been fed with the other slaves. Probably not.. as it was his responsibility.
“Eat.” He said to her then, pointing at the tray. If she seemed to refuse he would just get agitated. “I said eat!” He said to her in a demanding tone, not wanting to deal with her sas today.
@ShadowCat
When Áine returned to the tent, she was pleased to find that the air inside it had grown less stale and pungent after she’d left one of the flaps open. Her grey eye took in Lothar’s form on the bed, seeing the small shivers running though him and how he likely was in a great deal of pain. Bringing the tray of food and the ale to the table next to the bed, she sat it down and gestured for him to eat. His refusal had her frown, feeling like the tables had turned and she was somehow now his caretaker, not the other way around.
Yet Áine knew she could not force this man to do anything, and simply sat on the floor by the bedside while he finished the ale. It was better than nothing. When he ordered her to eat instead, she took the tray down and leaned her back against the bed pallet, eating a little bit but saving most of it for him should he change his mind. It wasn’t so much sass as it was concern for his health.
Meanwhile outside the tent, Tustrund had simply given Amastan a look of indignant rage when he asked if the younger man wished to repeat his disrespect.
“What about the disrespect of my right to punish my slave as I see fit?” Tustrund barked in return, which had Amastan shake his head slowly. “Did you fuck her?” he followed up, glaring at Amastan.
“So what if I did?” he retorted calmly, giving Tustrund a pointed look. “I would not have been the only one who helped myself to her body.” He slowly stepped closer to Tustrund, a look of menace on his face as he crowded the younger man’s space and looked him straight in the eyes. Unflinching, unmoving, uncaring if he took insult to the trespass on his personal space. “No brother of mine would abandon his responsibilities like you have. Slave or not, it was your job to keep an eye on her during the raid yesterday. A task you agreed to do, a task given to you by your leader. Yet you threw it all aside at the first sight of a new plaything. You are a child Tustrund. A spoiled little boy who just had your discarded toy taken from you.”
Amastan spat on the ground in front of Tustrund’s feet, slowly removing himself from his presence again. “Your claim is forfeit. Fight me over it if you wish. I will make you bleed if that is what it takes for you to understand.”
When Tustrund made no immediate indication that he would rise to the challenge, Amastan grunted in a slight approval and marched away. Shame, he thought, clenching his fists. He wouldn’t mind to teach the whelp a lesson or two.
@Nakachu
He drank deep from the ale. It added to the rest of the alcohol that he had been given and soon he could feel his head starting to swim more and the pain starting to dull. Finally his shoulders relaxed some as he watched Anja pick at the food. At least she was eating. He sure didn't want any in that moment.
He moved himself and laid down on the pallet fur. His chest still rising up and down slowly as he closed his eyes. Rest is what he needed. Useless goddamn rest. He felt like a mess, a failure. Letting Amastan deal with the happenings in the clan while he should have been able to. He needed to recover, and quick.
And for that he needed food huh? He sighed deep then grunted as he brought himself back up. "Give." He said to Anja. Motioning for the food and would start to eat of the bread and cheese even if his stomach disagreed.
Meanwhile Grainne was at the river. Rushing to clean the dirty bloodstained leathers. She knew she needed to finish this or she was in a world of pain. Not that she wasn't already. Tustrund was furious.. she was in a bad spot. Why had she learned their dumb language.. if she had just been a mindless slave..
Meanwhile Tustrund had walked away from Amastan with a deep huff. He could not fight the male in a fair fight. He knew that much. His claim to the slave forfeited. Did that mean Amastan, his brother would take her? Was that what had happened? Whatever it was. He was furious.
So when Grainne suddenly looked up because of footsteps and saw Tustrund her eye grew big. He was furious, she could tell. She tried to jump away from him, but once more her long dark hair was grabbed between his fingers. "You think you are so goddamn smart?!" He yelled at her as he brought her to her knees. "I know what you did Bitch. Were you that sick of me? That you had to go and fuck my Brother?" He shouted at her before she was suddenly plunged into the cold water. It knocked the air from her lungs and in the minute he held her down she trashed against him, begging for air.
He finally pulled her back up, she gasped for air. "Jokes on you. He is more gruel then I am. I am sure you will find out soon. Because you are reduced to a common slave once more." He then whispered into her ear. "What?" This was bad news... he was forsaking his claim? "You heard me. I don't want a whore like you!" Tustrund shouted at her before she was once more dunked into the water, held under the stream even a bit longer, waiting for her body to lose strength before he pulled her back up. "Get back to fucking work. Tonight you sleep with the pigs." He threw her forward, landing on her hands and knees as she coughed deep and watched him walk off.
@ShadowCat
Áine was glad she had only eaten a very small portion of the food when Lothar changed his mind and motioned for it. She placed the tray upon the bed next to him. While he ate, she fetched an extra set of leather clothing she’d been able to salvage. Moving back to sit by his bed, she sat there in silence to give him the privacy to eat. Meanwhile, she stitched up the leather clothes to try and make the fit her. Her feet were slightly cold, but she didn’t mind it.
While being busy both with her washing duties and tending to the village smithy, Áine never had time to do anything else. Her wight loss since she’d been taken had become more visible, and the clothes Lothar had first given her were growing larger. These leathers she had salvaged would hopefully fit her better, and now she finally had the time to tend to them.
As the day came to an end, Amastan had checked on Lothar once more. Their leader slept and so did his slave, so Amastan had let them be and retreated towards the center of the camp. There, he fetched himself a large bowl of hot stew and a big cup of ale, bringing it with him to his tent. He was in no mood to sit around the fire and chat this evening, preferring to eat in silence and then go to sleep.
Guards had orders. Hunters had orders. Wives knew what to do. Slaves old and new were taken care of -a few deceased ones buried behind the camp. With little else to do, he was confident he could get some rest. He had only glimpsed Tustrund throughout the day. The younger man was clearly avoiding him now after their talk. Amastan didn’t care and would let the boy be for now.
Entering his tent, he sat down on the bed pallet and ate his food slowly, every now and then taking a sip of his ale.
@Nakachu
As Tustrund had left her she had tried to gather herself back up. She was shiver in the cold air now that her clothes were entirely soaked. It was not warm enough to dry up fast either. Yet she returned to her work, it being more important now then ever. If she was back to being just a common slave.. if she did not finish her job she would be fair game to everyone.
So she scrubbed until her hands were raw from it, trying to get the blood stains out. She barely finished in time, Anja still nowhere to be found. She dragged the basket back to camp, her clothes and hair still partially damp from the dunk she had taken in the river. She quickly delivered them to where they were supposed to go and lucky for her it seemed that word had not gone around yet. They did not send her to the common slave camp, neither did any of the warriors passing grab her. It seemed that as far as everyone knew she was still Tustrund Property.
But she knew that would not last long, so without hesitation she made her way towards the tent that belonged to the right hand man and paused there. She could not go to Tustrund.. He had already barely browned her that morning, she could not imagine what he would do if she begged for a place to sleep. You will be sleeping with the pigs. He had made himself clear. He could find Anja, ask her to let her hide till Lothar woke up, but what if Lothar did wake up free of fever and recovered? Last her eyes fell on Amastan’s tent. He had saved her the night before, offered the floor near his bed. Would he do it again?
She gathered her courage, her heart beating inside of her chest as she walked to his tent flat. As she opened it she saw him sitting on his bet, eating at his food and drinking of his ale. Her eye met his and she just stood there for a moment. How did she even start this? She did not know what he was weak too. Always had found him hard to read.
“You want company? It appears that I am free game now..” she spoke in the end, letting the
He was sitting deep in thought, chewing the rich stew slowly while looking off into an unknown distance. The worry for Lothar’s health aside, he could not deny that the current albeit temporary rise in clan rank pleased him. He had fought for leadership once, after all. But he respected Lothar too much to sulk over his defeat. Lothar was a good leader, even if Amastan did not always agree with his decisions. Few were ever privy to their disagreements, showing the rest of the clan a united front when they passed on their rulings for the better of the clan.
Amastan’s train of thought was interrupted by the muted sound of light feet outside his tent, looking towards the tent opening with a hard frown as soon as the flap was pushed aside. He straightened his back where he sat, leaning on one hand resting on his knee while he regarded the slave. His eyes had a sharp look, taking in her form from head to toe. She’d bathed with her clothes on? Unwise.
Did he want company? No, absolutely not. Did she look like she needed it? Yes, she very much did. Whether or not he cared however, was another question entirely.
Grainne would not be the first slave to come to his tent, offering their ‘company’ in exchange for shelter and protection. Amastan sometimes said yes, sometimes no. He had never liked keeping a slave permanently, thinking them too much trouble to look after. He also did not partake in the public free use of the females.
Free game, she said, which had his frown smooth slightly. So, his younger ‘brother’ had forfeited his claim after all. Amastan was somewhat surprised to hear this, suspecting that Tustrund would cling to what he saw as his claim like a toddler cling to their toys.
He tilted his head slightly, observing the look on her face, seeing perhaps some of the anger that boiled within her. Anger and worry for her new situation. “This displeases you?” he asked slowly, uncharacteristically wondering what might be going through her head.
<@
The intense stare that she was met with did not prove this to be a good venture, but where else was she supposed to go? The moment she sat down to sleep with the common slaves it would be known that she was discarded. Every warrior that had ever wanted to have his turn with her would know that now was the chance to do so. The line that had formed at the center the day before would soon once more be her reality. If she could not find shelter somewhere, she would not be surprised if she would be buries with the rest of the dead slaves soon.
“This displeases you?”
The question came unexpected, yet somehow it made her blood boil. It was his fault that she was in this position in the first place, because he took her away from the square and harbored her in his tent. Tustrund had been convinced that he had taken her for himself, appearrantly enough to discard her like an old toy. “Yes.. It does displease me.” She just said through gritted teeth.
Grainne had never been good at holding her mouth shut. Even if it had gotten her in trouble many times, it had also saved her just as many. Even the brute barbarians appreciate the honesty sometimes, admiring her braveness where other slaves nodded and did as asked. “Did you tell him you used me?” She questioned him. “He nearly drowned me in the river..”
@ShadowCat
He tilted his head slightly at her confirming words, that she was much displeased about being free from Tustrund’s care. “Why?” she simply asked, indulging her anger and finding himself edging between curiosity and giving her a lesson himself.
He was mildly amused by her anger. Enough that he was willing to overlook the fact that she was questioning him. She -a slave- questioning him… Under any other circumstances, Amastan would have served her a powerful right fist to her face for such an insult. One that would have rendered her unable to eat solid food for a lengthy period of time. But this one amused him in equal measure as she angered him.
Had he told Tustrund he used her? “I did not,” he replied calmly and truthfully. He had neither confirmed nor denied such a thing when Tustrund asked about it. It did not matter, for in the end he would not have been the only one to use her. Hearing that the younger man had almost drowned her, he barked out a laugh and looked over her frame again, this time pointedly.
“He did not. If he wished you dead, you would be.”
Taking his eyes off her for a few seconds, he set the bowl of food aside and drank a mouthful of the ale, setting that aside too. Once done, he looked back at her questioningly. “Would you have preferred to stay there tied up?”
@Nakachu
A part of her did not want to believe that he had not told Tustrund that he had used her. Another part could understand the male might have come to the conclusion. She herself had full expect him to use her when he had taken her away from that pole in the middle of the square. The fact that he had just told her to sleep on his floor had been the real surprise of that day. She also knew better the to call him out. She was already pressing her luck, but she was angry and frustrated. The fear that had ben so thick inside of her stomach just coming out in all the wrong ways.
The fact that he said that if Tustrund had wished her dead she would have been only pissed her off more. Great.. so she had been nearly drowned for fun. Part of her wondered why he had not gotten rid of her. The only way she had seen the high ranks personal slaves go was death.. For him to let her go and not kill her.. it was strange. Was it because he was scared of Amastan?
She was still standing at the entrance of the tent when he asked her if she had preferred staying tied up at that pole in the square. “Yes.” She said decidedly as she stared him dead in the eye. “Because if you had left me there I would have known my place here. If you had left me there I would not be discarded slave. Yes, I would have been raped and hurt, but I would have lived. If those that did not get the chance yesterday find out I got discarded..” she paused taking a deep breath. “I will not make the morning. And it might surprise you, but I actually care about my life.”
@ShadowCat
“Known your place…?” she echoed the slave, speaking slowly as his expression hardened considerably at her words. “If-if-if, would have, would have…” Swiftly rising from his seated position on the bed, every muscle in his body tensed. Perhaps that right swing to her face was the appropriate solution after all. But he would not. This slave was unsure of her place and would have preferred the punishment Tustrund had placed upon her? Even if he managed to overlook the fact that she was being blatantly ungrateful, he was still angered by her response. "You do not know your place?" A slow and malicious smile spread on his lips.
“Very well,” he simply said and marched forward, grabbing the back of her head in powerful hand as he left the tent. Amastan dug his fingers into her hair and flesh, pulling her along with him through the camp. He cared not of she fought him, cried, screamed, kicked or even tried to claw at him. His steps were unwavering aiming for the center of the village. On the way there, he grabbed a length of rope with his other hand, not stopping but still hailing the woman along.
Once he reached the center of the camp, he released her by throwing her forward into the center. The rope soon followed as he threw that at her as well. “As you wish. Go,” he pointed to the pole. “Tie yourself up, let them have you in turns until you cannot walk. Learn your place, slave.” He practically spit the words at her. “If you still live by the morning, come find me and tell me what lesson you learned. What lesson my brother wished to teach you.”
Silencing, he looked at her hard while waiting for what she would do. Around them, many had taken notice of the display and were watching her as well.
@Nakachu
At first she stood her ground and let her anger take the forefront. She made her body bigger, her shoulders wide, trying to give herself courage. She was not going to let him scare her like that. This was his fault.. if he had never gotten in between them. It was only when those big feet took their steps towards him and that smile grew on her face that the anger changed into fear.
Before she could react he had a painful grab on her skalp, one that made her yelp out as he dragged her out of that tent. “Let go off me!” She yelled at him, but of course it was absolutely no use. She did indeed fight him, kick him, tried to get him to let go of her. But he seemed to not care at all. It was not till he grabbed the robe that she really started to put all her weight into her attempt, almost ripping out her own hair in he process, screaming loudly as perhaps someone would help her.
He flung her forward and she fell face first into the dirt. As she came up and spit it out of her face she looked back over her shoulder at him. “Tie yourself up, let them have you in turns until you cannot walk. Learn your place, slave.” Her eye grew wide, her heart beating a million miles an hour. She looked around her, looking around at the faces that were already staring at him, some men already with smiles on their faces, others going as as to undo the length of leather that kept up their pants. If he left her here.. if he did tie her to that pole, she was going to die. But what could she do instead. Beg? Fight? Run? Somehow none of those seemed like options to her. It didn’t take long before she was shaking.
“Why would you safe me from this if you didn’t even care in the first place..?” She then asked him.
@ShadowCat
His anger did not leave him, looking down at her with his hardened expression still in place. He did not take his eyes off her, not even to acknowledge the people who were watching them -her specifically. With measured movements he stepped forward and lowered himself to his haunches, very much crowding her space while he took a hold of her chin so she had to look at him with her one eye. The grip was not gentle. He spoke slowly, his voice deep and almost vibrating with the anger seething inside him.
“You dare question the help I gave you. You would rather see yourself used and abused by Tustrund's order? Now is your chance.”
A slow exhale had his muscled chest relax a little, looking at the slave on the ground. It was not his responsibility to explain his reasons for helping her. All she needed to know was that he had, and leave it at that. He may despise Tustrund for failing his duties, but such information was not for a slave to have. His loyalty to the younger man surpassed her right to question him.
He nodded towards the pole while he released her and stood again. “You may choose, slave. Have it your way. I will not intervene.” Again, he waited for what she would do. If she wanted her punishment, she would have to go up there and make herself 'presentable' for it by her own accord. If she should instead choose to stop questioning him and be grateful he had helped her, he might consider letting her stay in his tent.
Growing inpatient, he repeated the words, harder and louder. "Choose!"
@Nakachu(edited)
The grip at which he forced her to look at him was harsh, pressing her cheeks into her jaw and hurting against her teeth. She still did not understand his intentions with her Her mind was overflowing with questions and as he held her, her breath was flowing out of her nose in fast and quick burst.
He soon spoke about her choice and she could not help but be confused by what he was saying. Was he giving her a choice? She knew he was telling her to take her punishment, to tie herself to that pole and let everyone who was watching her take her like they pleased. But what she did not understand was what the other options was. To walk away from there? No.. she would be used all the same. To give herself to him? He did not seem to want that.. if he had he would have taken her the night before.
He let go of her chin and she just sat there on her hands and knees, spitting more dirt out from her mouth as one hand grabbed around the rope. The sudden shout had he flinching and pinching her eye closed. He needed an answer, yet she didn’t know the answer to what he was asking.
“I want your help!” She then shouted, not knowing what else the answer could be, bracing for when he would hit her for getting it wrong.
@ShadowCat
Amastan looked down at the slave as she shouted the words, surprise almost making him laugh. She could choose to just walk away, find another male in the clan to seek shelter with, try to run again and face the consequences of that, or even tie herself up and take the punishment Tustrund had intended for her. She had many choices, some decent and some bad. But choices none the less. And she chose to ask for his help.
He had already contemplated the idea of letting her stay with him, so why not.
Stepping forward, he bent and grabbed her arm to lift her to her feet, looking at her with a stern expression. “You will not try to run. You will not talk back to me. You will not disrespect me. You will do as I say, when I say and without question. Understand?”
He took the length of rope out of her hand, throwing it aside as he gave the spectators around them a sweep of his gaze. Amastan had nothing to say to them. Witnessing this would be enough for them to understand to leave her alone unless he gave permission to do otherwise. With a slight grunt of annoyance, he let go of the slave and beckoned her to come with him, heading back to his own tent.
“Bring food if you have not eaten,” he ordered, not looking back at her.
@Nakachu
In a way she had never felt this humiliated in her life. To be begging for help from the guy that was standing before her. She might hate him more then anything in the world in that moment. He had caused her to lose the space that she had made for herself. He had unknowingly broken down her entire being within this clan. But what other choice did she have? She felt like crying and screaming, but there was no space for that in that moment.
When he reached forward and grabbed her she rose to her feet and told her his terms she just scowled up at him, anger in her eye and the two eyebrows she still had. But even if her eyes spoke of fire she did not speak back to him. He was her way out of that square and she knew that. "Understood." she said to him, making their language sound even more crude then it might have needed to be.
As he ordered her to follow him, but gave permission for food she would reach over to one of the bowls that had been left unattended by one of the hunters. Even if the owner had seen it there was not much that could be done. After her shout the attention had been on both of them, it being clear what had gone down there. She didn't know if that was a good or a bad sign, judging on her current situation.
Once they were in his tent she walked inside, keeping her shoulders back and her back straight. Trying to appear strong and confident despite how she felt. Anger still fueled her, but she tried to keep it to herself. She did not dare to eat from the bowl yet. Not for a little bit anyway.
@ShadowCat
Back inside his tent, some of Amastan’s tension left him and he exhaled wile he threw himself to the bed. Rubbing his forehead and the bridge of his nose with his hands, he almost growled in annoyance. Why did she have to come to his tent? Out of all the males she could try to seek shelter with, why him? He’d known she aimed for rank with how she’d advanced on Lothar for so long, only to settle with Tustrund. Now she would not settle for lesser? Not all men in their tribe treated their slaves with cruelty. A few even saw them as companions. This slave could have made a good retirement for herself if she’d only aimed for a little less rank and found herself one of the more gentle males. But no. Hardheaded, stubborn little bitch. As the thought those words, he lifted his hand from his eyes and scowled at her, seeing her stand rather awkwardly in the center of his tent with her bowl of food.
“Sit,” he grumbled, gesturing his hand at anywhere in his tent. The hatred shining out of her one eye had him rethink helping her. Hardheaded, stubborn and ungrateful. “Eat.”
It was all he could say not to work himself up into a raging frenzy and beat the living breath out of her. Instead, he moved to sit and swiftly pulled off his shirt, tossing it across the tent and into the pile of his other clothes. He rested back down onto the bed and laid there, looking up into the tent ceiling with many unwelcome thoughts swirling in his mind. Mostly unwelcome, some dark, some quite pleasant. She was not bad on the eyes, even with her hideous scarring. If he was to keep a plaything for a while he might as well take his enjoyment out of it.
For now, however, he let her be. Let her eat her food in silence and simmer down some of that hatred.
@Nakachu
It seemed that both of them were fuming by the time they had gotten to the tent. Neither of them willing to give the other even a hint of space. She hated herself for begging him for help.. but she had not known who else to turn to. The truth was that she probably would have settled for a lesser male at this point if she could have. But she would have been free meat.. With how many had seen her the night before, finding her sleeping with common slaves would have been plenty to know that she was free game. A simple lesser warrior had no chance to claim her during a night like that. But Amastan.. he could have… and in the end he had.
As he commanded her to sit she did so even if her eye was still staring at him angry. When her commanded her to eat she ate. The food a welcome addition to her stomach that had ran empty long ago. Yet she would not thank him for it, not at that point. She hated what he had made her do, how he had made her beg for protection.
So she ate in silence and even if she was cold on the floor with her clothes still partially wet, she refused to ask him for warmth. She was just shivering silently to herself with her knees pulled up against her. Eventually her anger seeped down and she was just left with feeling sorry for herself. The bowl empty and next to her, her knees pulled tightly against her as she shivered. She kept her teeth clenched together to keep them from clanking together. It was going to be a long night.. but in the very least she was not out there..
@ShadowCat
He had almost drifted off to sleep by the time she had finished her meal and curled pitifully up on the floor. Amastan wasn’t sure what woke him from the light slumber, possibly a noise from outside the tent. In the distance somewhere out there, a few people were arguing. He could hear male voices shout at each other with deep and reverberating tones, clearly and angry dispute. Then the voices were abruptly interrupted by a stern female voice saying a few hard commands, and a ‘clank’ sound following after. Despite the mellow mood inside his tent, Amastan took to laughing, his entire upper body shaking with every deep chuckle. Leave it to one of the clan wives to literally bonk a man over the head with a steel object to shut them up. The clan wives could do that and get away with it. Female slaves… would have been flayed on the spot.
He turned his attention to the slave in his tent, thinking for a moment that this spirited creature had more in common with the women of his own people than the other females cowering in the slave pens. But she lacked one vital thing that the women of his people had; genuine compassion for their men.
Perhaps that was why Lothar kept the redhead for himself, he mused while watching the one-eyed slave shake from the cold. The redhead had a temper too, but she was able to cull it when she needed. This one in his tent did not seem to possess such self-control.
He raised himself slightly and pulled one of the furs out from underneath him, tossing it at her. “Remove the wet clothes.” What good was she if she got sick. This one’s daily duties might seem menial, but they were important. And with Lothar’s slave keeping an eye on him she would be alone all day the next day. He would not see her sick or bedridden and unable to tend to her duties.
07:38
“You may sleep in the bed if you wish. If not, take the floor.” Returning to his relaxed position, he only occasionally threw glances at her sideways, wondering what she would choose. The bed was softer and by far more comfortable than the floor, but at least he gave her a choice. She’d come to him for ‘company’. He was curious if she still offered that or if it had been a ploy simply to avoid the pens. He tucked one arm behind his head and rested the other on his chest, waiting.
@Nakachu
She flinched as the fur was thrown her way. She clung it to herself instantly. It was still warm from Amastan's body having been on it. It was something all these barbarians had in common, they ran hot and so did their temper along with it. As he demanded she take of her clothes she shot him a scowl, but in the end she did get up and get out of the slightly wet clothes in favor of the warm fur she had been given.
Yet it was the choice that she had been given that threw her through a loop. To sleep on the bed with him or stay on the floor. To some it might have been an easy choice, but to Grainne it was one that she considered carefully.
Did she stay on the hard and cold floor? Choose her dignity instead of giving him the pleasure of seeing her reduced to taking yet another favor from him. She could feel that he gloated in it. A part of him enjoying the emotional torture he had put her through. He might have saved her from death, but it had come with a price. And even if he offered her refugee tonight.. how would it go the night after?
It was perhaps the very reason she did not want to go up in that bed with him. It was like admitting defeat, giving herself to him, letting him be the one who took her on that pole, just a different location. Or would he yet again do nothing to her like the night before?
Probably a good minute or two had passed before she did move and got up from her spot. The fur falling open on purpose to show him the curves that still excisted on her despite the malnoutrision. Because if Grainne was sure about one thing, it was that she wanted to survive. And no matter how much she hated it, Amastan might be the only one who could save her in that moment.
She went on top of the bed and crawled towards him before laying down next to him. She did not actually touch him, but she didn't lay on the edge of the bed as most others would have done. Leaving the choice open to him on what to do with her. She could only hope that she was enough
19:52
to cause Amastan the Lonely to claim a slave..
@ShadowCat
He laid perfectly still while the slave crawled onto his bed, coming to a rest beside him. Amastan did not move or shift to offer her more space, the bed big enough for the both of them. His dark gaze was locked on her; her figure that she so clearly flaunted at him, the way she moved as if frightened and seductive at once. Once she had come to a slow rest beside him, he turned his head slightly to look at her. The slave was taller than most other females but he still dwarfed her. A very slow and calculative smile spread on his lips.
Shifting towards her, he wrapped one hand into the nape of her neck and fisted her hair, firmly holding her head still while he looked at her. His expression was calm, but his nostrils flared with the scent of her so close. An earthly scent of nature and fresh air, likely from being dunked into the river. “You are fed,” he spoke with firm assertiveness. “You are warm, you are safe. You live.” While still holding the back of her head and keeping her down, he pulled the furs away from her naked body. Goosebumps soon ran along her skin, her frail and thin body not resisting the cold very well. Amastan rose to his knees and moved so he was hovering above her, turning her to lie on her front on the bed.
“You want my help. You came here to offer yourself as company,” he continued, leaning forward so he spoke into her ear. His voice never changed, holding that deep baritone calmness. While he held her head down into the furs, he used his other to untie the straps at the front of his leather pants, pulling them down. “You wish to stay here?” He turned her head slightly so she could look at him over her shoulder with her one eye. With a swift pull as he draped his arm underneath her, he dragged her hips upwards so she had to rise onto her knees. But he kept her head down, pushing down against her spine with his elbow so her back swayed and to hold her in submission.
07:13
Using his thighs, he spread her legs, dark eyes trailing her naked flesh with sudden greed at what he had at his disposal. It had been a while since he’d taken a slave. Especially one so forthcoming. His fist in her hair gripped harder while he adjusted himself, the tip of his tick and warm member soon pressing against the exposed folds of her sex. Her skin felt slightly cold against his own, but he did not care. He would warm her up soon enough.
“This is what you want, slave?” he asked, his eyes setting back onto her face while he pushed his hips forward slightly, pressing a little harder against her folds. She was not wet or ready, but the precum leaking from him lubricated her entrance enough. Holding himself there and keeping her still if she was to thrash against him, he waited for her to answer.
@Nakachu
His advanced on her came as if out of nowhere. The hand that snaked into her hair making her gasp out. From that moment on it was obvious what was going to happen and she gritted her teeth from the very start. She tried to keep her face neutral as he narrated her with his calm voice, as he listed off everything that he had done for her.
She was almost glad when he forced her to lie down on her stomach so she could let her face go into the angry scowl that she needed it to be. She had never liked this part.. Specially not the first with a new warrior. They were ruthless.. and selfish. Even Tustrund had not made it pleasurable to her. The only times that she got the smallest bit out of it was when she had advanced on him and made sure that she was ready and doing it on her terms. But there was none of that here.
Her body was rigid and tense. Even if she didn’t exactly fight against him putting her in the position where she was, she was also not letting him just do whatever he wanted. As he pulled her head to the side and made her look at him as he undressed she could not help the anger that was resting in her face. She was still seething.. that much had not changed and likely would not change for a long while.
He pressed himself against her and as his hot tip met with her dry folds she knew that he was going to hurt her when he pushed it in.
“This is what you want, slave?”
His words almost making her growl at him, barely able to keep the sound in herself. He pressed into her more and even with his precum she knew that it would take a good few pumps for it to not rough up her insides. It is better then the square she had to remind herself.
“Yes..” she said, though her voice was nothing but convincing. It was almost the same barren tone that he had used against her. “Stick your cock inside of me. Use me.” There were others things at the tip of her tongue, but she bit them back in fear of angering him.
@ShadowCat
He could feel the tension in her body, see the white burning anger in her eye. Her reply clipped and drenched in anger, dripping with the contempt she clearly held for him in that moment. Amastan almost chuckled at it as he pressed himself more into her, slowly savouring how tight she was around his hard member. “Liar,” he grumbled, fisting her hair harder to force her face sideways so he could see it. He would watch that anger while he fucked her. His other arm returned under her hips to hold her in place, one large palm pressing up into the lower part on her belly.
He pushed himself slowly into her, the precum coating her dry passage just enough to allow him access. Then he withdrew slightly, only to drive forward again, gaining a little more ground than before. The tension in her refused to yield, but to Amastan it only made her feel all the better. A deep and shuddering exhale left his mouth as he pushed harder and could feel himself slide more easily once he found the natural wetness hidden deeper within her. With one, final and much harder push, he stopped as he felt the resistance of her womb press against the tip of his member.
Looking down into her face, he gauged her expression, pulling the hair away from her eye to look into it. She was tight and tense around him and he found himself pleasantly surprised by it. His cock throbbed inside her with eagerness to continue, but he held himself still so he could appreciate the moment. His hand on her lower belly pressed up slightly to feel the outline of himself buried deep inside her.
08:56
There was clearly nothing she would not endure as long as it got her what she wanted or needed. Her hatred shone at him clear as day, yet she kept still with minimal force on his part. When Amastan leaned over her, pushing harder into the resistance within that would not yield, his thick braid fell over his shoulder and onto her back. He could still see the seething anger in her eye, and a carnal desire to fuck that insolent glare right out of her took hold of him, his hands slowly gripping her harder.
Moving his hips on a fast and forceful thrust, he watched her face intently, not giving her any leeway to move away or hide. Again, he moved, pushing himself slightly deeper to a point he knew would hurt her. Pulling her entire body roughly to him, Amastan began fucking the slave with rough, steady movements that would have jerked her body forward had he not held onto her so tightly.
@Nakachu
She grit her teeth as he started to push deeper into her. It was rough at first, feeling uncomfortable inside of her. She grunted into the air for a moment as she just stared back at him. She didn't care that he didn't believe her. She had tried. So she didn't even try to hide her anger anymore.
With each thrust he dug deeper into her until he indeed found that pool of natural lubricant that was hidden inside her, pumping into her hard enough to bury himself inside. His hand on her stomach keeping her pressed against her as he pulled her head even more to the side.
She grabbed into the furs underneath her, her knuckled white from the pressure. She dug her feet into the furs to, even if it did not make much of a difference.
He started to push into her even harder and finding her cervix. As he hit it she opened her mouth to let the breath leave her, but she did not moan for him. Yet it wasn't till he began to fuck her earnest and force himself against that part of her that she started to struggle. Each thurst hurt as he hit deep against her. The first few not that bad, but soon growing worse. She grabbed into the furs deeper as if that would help her. She tried to turn her hips to keep him from hitting deeper, but he just turned them back by force. Each time the thurst in a sound of discomfort and pain left her as she still looked at him in anger.
"Feels good?" She spoke to him. She knew she should not put oil to the fire, yet she could not help herself. Something about him pulled it out of her. Perhaps the way that he seemed to be hurting her on purpose. "Does it make you feel powerful?"
@ShadowCat
His thrusts into her were rough and relentless, keeping at a punishing yet steady pace. Amastan could tell by how her knuckles whitened into the furs that she was not enjoying it, but he did not care. She'd asked for it, asked to be used. Just like she wished he'd left her on that pole to be gang raped by members of his clan. She'd said she didn't know her place, so he would oblige her request and show her.
"Yes," he growled almost viciously at her question. She did feel good, tight around his cock as he buried himself deep into her, likely bruising the soft tissue of her insides. He knew he was powerful, strong and capable. He did not need to fuck a pitiful slave to prove it. She should know better than to try and taunt him like that, her words repelling off him like nothing. Yet he slowed his pace, taking a steady rhythm that didn't jerk her entire body but was still deep with every insertion.
Leaning more over her, he looked into her one eye. "You wanted this."
As soon as he'd spoken the words, he accentuated them with another bruising thrust into her warmth. Her natural wetness combined with his precum had made her easier to fuck, less resistant to his plunder. Amastan almost growled at how good she felt, how insufferably defiant she was even when faced with the consequences of her own words and actions. It all collided in his mind into a vicious, almost unkind need to break her so she would not lie to him ever again.
"You put yourself in the dirt," he grunted, his eyes hard on her. "To be used." He fucked her faster again, feeling the warmth of a release begin to swell within his balls as they tightened. A glint of something passed his eyes, something unreliable and teasing. He released his hold around her hips and brought his hand to his mouth, licking his thumb. Then his hand stroked down her spine, almost caressing her, gentle and heavy at once, the touch getting more firm as he neared the split of her ass.
10:46
"That will be your place if you wish." Thrusting himself as deep into her as he could go, Amastan held himself firmly there. Without any warning, he pushed his thumb into her rear hole, the thick digit moistened by his saliva. He didn't push it far, didn't need to. Stretching the tight right of muscle with his thumb, he held her firmly down with his other hand on her head, watching her reaction and feeling her squirm.
His cock swelled more within her, soon enough bursting into a powerful orgasm that made him pulse and throb, coating the outside of her womb with his seed. He kept the pressure on her tight rear, pushing his thumb into it a little more and feeling how her entire body tensed around his throbbing member while he spilled himself inside her. His breaths had grown fast and rugged, but his eyes never left her face, dark eyes watching her every expression.
"Next time… do not lie to me."
@Nakachu
The whole time that he was pumping into her was not pleasant. She moaned, but it was from the pain and him bruising her cervix almost exclusively instead of pleasure. Only sometimes he hit that spot inside her that actually felt good, but the pain overtook it easily. She just tried to keep herself steady, to curve her hips in a way that he would not hit as deep, but he was making it hard.
“You wanted this.”
The growl only made her more angry, groaning out loud as he pushed inside of her. “Fuck you…” she just growled underneath him as she grabbed into the furs even more to try and endure what he was doing to her. It only seemed to anger him more and he picked up the pace again. She started to whine softly between the groans, the pain stating to become overwhelming as he pushed inside of her.
She didn’t even really notice the hand that was going down her spine or into his mouth, her eyes pressed close in her endurance of his attack at her body. It was only when he started to press it inside of her that her eyes shot open and she looked back at him. The way he pressed in was uncomfortable and painful. She tried to push herself away from him, to get her hips away from where he was, but he held her steady. She whined into the air once more, her hand coming up to try and get him to take it out.
She hated it, even if it had not been the first time that a warrior had tried to use that end of her, she did not like it at all. After a few more thrust he suddenly pushed himself inside her hard. It made her gasp out as he knocked the air out of her and released himself inside, that thumb still hooked inside her to keep her steady. Her grasp turning even more white and her mouth opening from the way that she was trying to keep in her painful grunt.
“Next time… Do not lie to me.”
Her eyes met his again, her expression perhaps more angry then ever. She just was not someone who could hide her emotions, no matter how much she might want it. She had so much she wanted
06:03
to s
06:03
ay, so many words that lay at the tip of her tongue that she wanted to say to him, so many names she wanted to call him. “Understood..” was all she said in the end, even if it was said through gritted teeth.
@ShadowCat
Seeing the anger in her not subside even a little, the continued misinterpretation of what he was trying to teach her, Amastan pulled his member and thumb out, releasing her from himself. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and grabbed a pitcher of water from the table, drinking a few mouthfuls before he offered it to her. An unbidden anger began boiling in his own chest, his expression hard and locked in unreadable tension. His jaw tensed with it and he stared off elsewhere than at the woman.
Taking the pitcher back from the slave after she’d slaked her own thirst, he put it back in the table and rose from the bed to dress himself. “You may sleep,” he simply ordered, tying up the laces at the front of his waist and throwing his shirt on. Then he left the tent and set off into the camp, looking for something to shift his attention on.
For some inexplicable reason, the image of Lothar and his redhead slave came to mind, when he had spied on them together by the river. Their leader knew close to nothing about how to treat a woman with gentleness, yet the redhead had not fought him and instead seemed to enjoy it. Amastan had not been close enough to hear their words, but it had seemed to him that Lothar allowed the slave to guide him in how to please her. She’d been both physical and vocal about what she wanted, making it clear to the man.
The slave back in his tent asked to be used, and yet she kept hating everyone for it when they did exactly that. It set his teeth on edge, making him clench his fists along his sides.
06:44
Shaking his head to rid the unwelcome thoughts and images out of his head, he steered himself towards the edge of the camp where a couple of warriors would be on patrol. The two women could not be compared, and he would be better off not trying to. He stopped by the river and looked downstream, pondering for a second what to do with the redhead if Lothar did not recover from his injury. Amastan knew he would be taking the mantle of leadership if that was to happen. The clan would approve, and the few who did not would fight him and lose.
Again, he had to shake the ideas from his mind. Pondering about what-if and what-could-be did no one any good. This wasn’t like him at all. His frown deepened as he began moving to circle the camp, wanting to catch up with whoever was on patrol.
@Nakachu
As he pulled out of her and left her alone she let herself fall flat against the bed. Her breathing was fast and she could feel the pain at her cervix, groaning softly into the bed. As he offered her the water she took it and drank deep. She could not read this men. Even now he seemed so angry with her even if she had let him use her however he pleased. She watched him leave and said not word, getting permission from him to sleep.
It didn’t take long before she was left on her own devices in the almost dark tent. She put her hand between her legs, half expecting to be bleeding, but there was none there, just the mixed juices of them both. She wiped herself down before turning into her back and pulling a fur over her body. The pain in her stomach still persistent, her entrance raw, though not as bad as it could have been. She closed her eyes for a moment and just took a few deep breaths as she lay there.
The night could have gone worse.. way worse. If anything, she had made it work the best she could. Him leaving her right after was worrisome, but perhaps that is just how that worked with him. She was not back at the pole, she had not been left in the slave pen. She could sleep here. Perhaps it was a temporary solution, but she was safe for another night.
She eventually turned on her side and curled up, closing her eyes and willing herself to sleep. Letting the long day just seep out of her to prepare for another one.
@ShadowCat
When Amastan returned to the tent, much calmer and with his mind more at ease, he found the slave fast asleep burrowed into the furs on his bed. She’d made a cocoon for herself in one of the pelts and was laying curled up on her side, breathing softly and steadily. He undressed without a sound and laid down beside her, taking another pelt to cover his naked form. He did not touch her or lie too close, for the time being content in ignoring her and letting her sleep.
Closing his eyes as he relaxed into the bed, his trained mind soon drifted off to sleep, able to will himself into it whenever he needed. It the warrior in him trained like that, to sleep whenever possible and for however long he could. He knew he would wake by dawn before her and was not worried about her trying to attack him in his sleep.
Shortly after, he was swept away into a slumber.
The night passed too fast. The dawning light awakening him too soon. It felt like he had merely closed his eyes for a moment. Rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes, he turned slightly and gave the sleeping slave a hard push on her shoulder, enough to rock her entire body just once. Then he rose to dress himself again, trained hands working the leathers with swift ease.
The lump of furs on his bed stirred while he was pulling a shirt over his head. “Work,” he ordered, taking his axe and knife, tucking the knife into his belt. “Get up.” Without waiting for her to rise or do as she was told, he left the tent to hunt down the Elder woman to get an update on Lothar’s situation.
Áine had spent most of the night on the floor beside Lothar’s bed, one hand always on his chest to monitor of his temperature and breaths. He slept restlessly, sometimes grunting in pain while he shifted slightly to try and ease the discomfort. Every now and then she had to force him awake so he could take a sip from the bottle the Elder woman had given her, following the instructions. He became increasingly difficult to stir awake as the night went on.
She herself did not sleep much, nodding off every now and then while she rested her head against the furs of his bed. Shivering as the cold of night was at its darkest, she’d taken a small pelt from the end of the bed to drape it over her legs and feet. It helped a little, but not enough.
As daylight broke into the tent, she stirred and rose to her knees, leaning over the man to look at him. His breaths were shallow and uneven, and he was paler than he had been the night before. Áine knew close to nothing about medicine, but she could tell that the area around his wounded shoulder ran warmer than the rest of him, the skin under the bandages hard to the touch and clearly swollen. Her grey eyes looked at his face for many seconds to see if he would wake while she inspected it.
Outside the tent, she heard the rest of the camp come to life, voices speaking and feet shuffling on the ground. Áine shook him gently by grabbing his good shoulder, then put her hand on his cheek. “Lothar…”
Surprisingly she had slept pretty well. Her dreams had been quiet and pleasant instead of riddled with nightmares like they sometimes were. Perhaps she had simply been so exhausted from the entire day that her body really needed the time to unwind. Whatever the case was, she was getting the rest that she so desperately had needed in that bed underneath the furs.
It was the abrubt awakening that was less pleasant. The sudden push made her grunt as she came out of her dream and it was not till he actually spoke out loud that she started to register what had happened. She pushed herself up and only then noticed the aching feeling inside of her, the bruised cervix that he had caused her the night before. She grabbed to her stomach. Everything that had happened came back and she knew better then to anger him so at his command she got up from the bed and reached for her clothes. By the time she got the first bit on he had already left, not a word spoken from her side.
She looked around his tent and found the jug of water. She drank deep, knowing that breakfast would likely not be something she would be getting. She looked around his tent, wanting to take it in before she finally went outside to do her task, washing clothes by the river. Likely on her own again even though she needed Anja more then ever.
The night had not been kind to Lothar. He kept waking in the middle of the night. One moment he woke from the cold and had to pull more furs over himself, another he woke up in heat and had to toss them away. And then the moment Anja had woken him to actually give him the medication.. It had caused a broken sleep that had not given him the rest he had needed.
By the morning he was running hot again, his breathing faster then it should be. A soft layer of sweat on his forehead and chest and his teeth clenched together to prevent them from clattering. His eyes were still closed, an attempt to get some more sleep when suddenly Anja’s hand came to shake him awake.
His eyes shot open to look at her. His sense to fight kicking in almost instantly and he pushed her away. He forced himself up in the bed only to grunt out loudly at the pain in his shoulder. He was still refusing to look weak, he just had to push through it. He wasn’t weak enough to let a goddamn arrow take him down. Even through the fever that was one thing that he knew for sure.
“Water.” He demanded of Anja, his mouth dry and his lips chapped. If she did grab him a jug of it he brought it to his lips and thew his head back to drink. He drank so eager that some of it fall past his lips and down his chin and chest. As he came down again he sighed deep.
Afterwards he stared at Anja. Part of him needing her warmth and comfort, another one not letting him give in to that side. “Get the elder.” He spoke instead, deciding to keep the tough act going for a bit longer.
@ShadowCat
Áine fell to her side and off the bed when Lothar pushed her away from him, scurrying to keep backing away out of a sudden fear he’d turn violent on her. She saw how bad he was shaking when he sat up, noticed the clenched and tense jawline, how he seemed furious and in desperation for pain relief at once. Without a word, she handed him the pitcher of water and watched as he gulped it down greedily, then she nodded and dashed out of the tent to find the Elder woman.
He was frightening in this mood. She had not seen it directed at herself before, only at others. Like that hunter who had hit her. But this was different somehow. Áine wished she understood more of his language, that she understood him more. She wished she could help him without being looked at as if she was about to be punched for disobedience.
She beelined through the camp, dodging other slaves and warriors walking to and from their own duties. Only a handful took notice of her enough to step out of her way. In the distance, she saw Grainne’s tall figure carry baskets of clothes to the river. Once she found the Elder woman’s tent, she didn’t notice the tall man stepping into her path before she crashed violently into his frame. Recoiling away from him she shielded herself from any potential hits coming her way. But none did.
Amastan stood in front of her, looming a little as he looked down at her with a raised eyebrow and questions in his eyes. “Lothar?” he asked.
Áine gave the man a nod and pointed past him to the tent. “Elder.”
(edited)
21:46
He nodded once and turned towards the tent, pulling the flap aside to enter it. Áine was tripping with anxiety, having difficulties standing still while she waited. The minutes it took the Elder woman to prepare felt like hours and she had half a mind to go back to Lothar’s tent and wait there instead. But for some reason she didn’t want to be alone with him either. Not when he was sick and in a foul mood. When Amastan and the Elder woman emerged from the tent, she fell in line behind them as they made their way towards their leader.
She hesitated going inside, watching the two disappear through the flap. But in the end, she could not stay away either and slid past the flaps, watching as the Elder woman was removing the bandages around Lothar’s shoulder. The woman spoke with him in a calm manner and shook her head as the infected would was revealed, ‘tsk-ing’ a little. Just like the day before, she pushed him to lie down and began preparing her many ointments, likely seeking to clean the wound.
Áine just stood there, feeling helpless and utterly useless while she watched.
@Nakachu
As Anja left and he was alone in that tent, he let the pain take over his mind for just a small bit. His shoulder felt tense and tight under that bandage, his heart beating inside the wound making it hard to concentrate. He wanted to rip the bandage off, no rip his shoulder off. It was probably less pain then he felt now. He grunted loudly and threw the pitcher at the side of the tent, the ceramic breaking as it hit the ground.
It wasn’t that he wanted to be angry or agresive, but in that moment it was the only things that he could do. The idea of appearing weak had been beaten out of him at a young age, this was simply the way he handled it. Eventually he calmed down a bit and just stared at the entrance of his tent. Something was wrong with his wound and he needed the elder to come and take a look at it.
So when he finally did come in it was almost like a breath left him that he had been holding for minutes. He watched as Amastan came in along with her, but he did not care. “You look bad.” The Elder said, very matter of factly before she just went over to him and started to remove the bandage. At first it was not to bad, it was nice even, the pressure slowly releasing. It wasn’t till it got stuck to the wound from the blood and fluid that had leaked from it that he started to complain audibly. He had to grab into her own hands to keep them from pushing the woman away.
As the bandage was taking off it was clear that infection had set in, and it had set in hard. Pus leaking from the wound an down his chest now that it had space to go. “That is not good.” The elder said and her face said plenty to make that clear. “We need to clean it. Lay down.” She ordered Lothar and he did as she asked, not having enough energy to fight her about it. “Hold him down.” She said to Amastan, knowing that she was going to hurt him.
She looked over her shoulder to Anja who was hovering in the corner, the slave who was supposed to take care of him. “Come here.” She ordered to Anj
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a and motioned her over. She got a bucket of boiled water that was still slightly warm and filled up a leather sack at the end of a tube. A tub was held against the back of his arrow wound before she placed the tube inside and pressed on the bag, making sure Anja was watching. Lothar screamed as the water rushed through and opened the wound up again, bucking against Amastan, but eventually just tensing and laying down. As the tub from the other side was removed it was filled with a nasty smelling liquid. “Again.” She simply said and filled the bag up once more. But instead of putting it to the wound she handed it to Anja, making her do it till the wound ran mostly clean.
@ShadowCat
((@Nakachu@ShadowCat
Hello! There hasn’t been a response here for awhile, so I just wanted to reach out and see if you guys were interested in continuing this RP. Let me know either way! ❤️))
(( @Nakachu@ShadowCat Hey there! - Looks like it's been a while since this has been posted in. So I'm checking in to see if you would like to continue or if you would like to archive it. Please let me know either way and I'd be happy to help! ))
(( @Nakachu@ShadowCat Hey there! - Looks like it's been a while since this has been posted in. So I'm checking in to see if you would like to continue or if you would like to archive it. Please let me know either way and I'd be happy to help! ))
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