Not my Sister!

La_Reina

Sexy Feisty Sub
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{closed for Raiguy}

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Zoe awoke slowly letting her eyes adjust to the brightness in her room. She swung one leg than the other over the bed feeling the cold stones under her feet. Her hair was in disarray around her head and she brushed the strands with her fingers. She stretched and a small smile flitted across her face. Her little sister should be arriving today. Zoe loved her little sister and was more than protective of her. Zoe was from the Princess of the Diabolique Clan. Her people were notorious fighters, trackers, and hunters. They were often described as cruel, meticulous, and cunning. People were afraid of the Diablolique for their ruthless ways and desires. Other cultures said 'I love you' with hugs, kisses; the Diabolique said 'I love you' with bruises and trust knowing that you are loved. It was a Spartan upbringing with the traditions intact or altered slightly. So when her mother had come home for a yearly trekkage with a baby girl well the family wasn't stunned. It was common for the unwed women to fulfill desires with other cultures and have their children at home. But Zoe's little sister, Crista, wasn't like the Diabolique. She had too much of her father in her. Crista was more timid, shy, and reserved. She would rather talk than argue, give in than fight, listen than try to get her way. They were all nice qualities, but ones that didn't quite fit with the Diabolique. Though no one fucked with Zoe's baby sister. Not unless they wanted to deal with Zoe. What Crista lacked Zoe made up for 10 fold.

Zoe rushed down to Crista's room. She wasn't there. She looked around the grounds. She wasn't there. Zoe came upon her mother and looked at her questioningly. "No. Crista hasn't arrived yet."

That was all that needed to be said. Zoe sighed. Crista had went to 'find herself' on a trekkage. Crista had been gone for over 3 years. The first year Zoe had shadowed her until Crista found out and then gave Zoe an earbashing. The only one who actually could. Zoe agreed to let Crista 'grow up and be on her own' if Crista sent back weekly letters or communications. The last one was from last week stating Crista was coming back and would be back within the week. Not caring if Crista would be upset Zoe sent for escorts to help her baby sister with the last stretch of her journey. She just thought they would have arrived by now.

It was well into the evening and Zoe was with her 4 other sisters and 2 brothers waiting on Crista to come home. Her other siblings loved Crista, but didn't feel as protective of her as Zoe did. They held the opinion that if Zoe hadn't protected her so much Crista would have been like the Diabolique. Zoe knew better. Crista just wasn't wired that way. Crista would have been killed or broken from the happy go lucky girl she was. Zoe didn't care. She would always be there for her sister.

The doors banged open and everyone looked towards the door. The first thing Zoe saw was her warriors, but no Crista. She rose and walked towards them. "Your sister was captured. It seemed a slave cavaran." There were gasps. Diabolique were known to kill themselves than be captured by slavers if they couldn't kill the whole group. It was very dishonorable to be captured by slavers. Zoe turned back to see her brothers and sisters already shaking their heads as if Crista was dead.

"I'll go get her," Zoe said.

"No," Madi said. "You are next in line to lead our people if mother shall fall. You are to be here and find a mate. That is your duty. Not our weakling sister."

It was true. Zoe wasn't the oldest nor the tallest, but she was the fiercest. Which meant she was next in line and needed to find a mate to continue the bloodline. Zoe walked up to Madi who didn't shrink back and stared up into her older sister's eyes. "I don't care. Crista is in trouble. I will kill anyone who gets in my way. I will do anything to get her back."

"How will you get into the slave market. We are forever banned. They'll be too many for you to kill and not be killed yourself. Or do you plan on going to war on the slavers just to get Crista back."

Zoe thought. Her people would go with her, but they would be disheartened to know it was to get Crista out of a slave camp. They would want her to throw herself upon her sword than to rescue her. No, her people would think even less of Crista. Zoe shook her head. "I'll follow the same steps Crista did," Zoe said as she turned and walked out of the room.

"What do you mean? NO! Not..."

Zoe didn't hear her end her statement. Yes, Zoe meant to be captured by slavers.

3 days later and Zoe had found the caravan that had taken Crista. Unfortunately, they already made it to the slave market. Zoe was tracking another slave caravan down and was coming upon them. She stood right in the middle of the road with her back to them. She heard them stop behind her and could practically smell the greed in the air. Zoe was 5'6 not too tall and her body was curvy with just the hint of muscles. Her shirt was cinched at her lower back and waist and her skirt had a split all the way to her hip. Her hair hung down her back and she carried no weapons. Maybe the slaver would think she was a stupid girl who gotten lost. Zoe didn't care.

She heard the man approached and had to stiffen her arms so she wouldn't attack the man when he came into range. He spun her and looked her over. He was talking to her, but Zoe wasn't listening she was looking past him to the caravan behind. Suddenly, it grew quiet and she saw the owner take a step back. "You're Diabolique." Zoe glanced down to where he was looking. Her right hip had the tattoo of her people.

"Yes, but I'm dishonored. I will not fight."

The slaver looked skeptical, but soon his greed was in his eyes. "I will get tons of money for a Diabolique. Like Stephen. His Diabolique acts like a half breed, but you... You look like a warrior. I'll get even more." The slaver tied her wrists tightly with rope. He searched her his hands roving longer in places than she liked. She could still kill him with her hands tied, but had to endure to get to Crista. One thing that came of this she knew the slaver that her sister: Stephen. He will pay.

Zoe was thrown into the back and at first the other slaves were afraid of her. As she made no moves over the days they began to approach her and beg her for help. She shook her head. She was not interested in escape. She was interested in the destination and tomorrow the Slave Trade began. She will be reunited with her sister soon. She just had to be patient.
 
Jace "Mac" McMillan grew tired of his father rattling on. He knew what the old man would say. More yelling about his stupid mistakes. More ranting about how business would be better if he just found a woman to take care of things at home. The Orzo clan were reputed "gun runners", mercenaries, and businessmen. Mac was no different. His custom weapons were highly sought after, yet he was forever bogged down with the business end of things. The way most of the clan functioned was to have a wife or servant, sometimes a bought slave, help with these things. The wife or servant would also watch the house when the males of the clan were summoned. The most strict rule in the clan was to never kill for money. If you did that, you were dishonored, and could never operate like a normal clan member. Several dishonored had tried that, and wound up dying from these strict rules.

Mac snapped out of his thoughts, happy to find the man finished.

"Did you hear me?" his father asked.

"Yes. You want me to find someone to help with my work. I don't want to do that though. I work on my own," Mac said.

"JACE! You will go to the slave market and buy someone to help you, or so help me, you will be cast out. You bring shame to us with your business dealings," his father roared. When the old man got into a mood, it was best to just hunker down and weather the fight. Jace, as only his father and mother called him, rarely did that.

"I don't want a person who was bought. If I get someone to help, it will be because I ask them to or they want to help. End of discussion," Jace said, his temper flaring. He was one of the few people in the clan who most didn't tangle with. The clan were notorious for their proficiency in weapons, but Jace took it a step further, training his body to be a weapon. It helped with his "gun running" as well.

"Fine. We will go to the market tomorrow and buy a servant. That is final. Either you do this, or you are hereby sentenced to death," Lord McMillan said, his wife grimacing. When that threat was made, it was carried out. No one took it idly when Lord McMillan sentenced anyone.

Mac knew he was trapped, and there wasn't much he could do about it. He nodded curtly then stormed out of the house. He made his way to his small 3 bedroom house. He quickly went down to his forge and shop, taking a piece of molten mettle and quickly shaping it into a throwing knife. He had been making a custom set of them, but this one quickly became a pounding block to vent his anger.

Mac didn't need someone to help him. He was stubborn, that was sure, but he knew what he was doing. He would have to train someone how to use the forge with him, teach them minor crafting skills, management skills, and then trust them enough to live with him in a house filled with deadly weapons. Did he really want a "slave", someone those disgusting men caught and who ended up resenting being sold into captivity, to work with and live with him? He had nothing against people, but knew that, if given the chance to obtain their freedom, they would take it at the tip of a sword.

Mac shook his head, rolling his massive shoulders. His house was larger than most. The average male in the clan was just under 6 foot. Mac towered over them at 6 foot 7 inches. His size showed years at the forge, working metal into weapons and armor, and the occasional decorative piece. His brown hair and steel grey eyes were his two defining features. Most men wore their hair cropped short, yet Mac kept his hair shaggy. He finished loosening the tension, then set the mangled bar back into the forge before going to pack his bags.

A day later, Mac and his father, along with a guard, were standing at the slave market, waiting for it to begin. As much as it disgusted Mac to be here, he knew that he had to do it, or risk incurring the sentence his father had imposed. He shook his head, pulling his cloak and hood tighter about him. The Orzo clan didn't broadcast their entrance, or become part of the crowd. Mac stayed back, looking over the slaves, until one girl caught his eye. she looked docile enough, and even though she was sad, he could see a twinkle in her eye from time to time that showed him she might actually enjoy a quiet life.

"That girl," Mac said to his father, pointing to the half Diabolique. His father just shrugged and nodded pulling out his purse of money to get ready for the auction. both men knew that the girl would be theirs, as most players at the market had little funds to compete with a clan lord.
 
Zoe was getting antsy. They were so close and yet so far. It seemed like it took forever for them to cross the threshold of the damn market. She almost threw off her shackles and ran in, but restrained herself. She didn't endure this dishonor just to blow the whole damn thing. The wagon jerked and finally they were inside. Zoe stood with the others looking out the window. As they were looking at all the people and things she was looking for a certain person and strategizing the best escape routes. They finally stopped and the others held back where as Zoe stepped forward. The owner smiled.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. I bring you a real Diabolique warrior." Zoe was grabbed and she looked down at the hand that was touching her until the slaver removed it. People came closer instantly recognizing the tattoo and asking how he obtained her. Zoe wasn't paying attention. All this was minor details. The auctions had started and she had to get to her sister quickly. The slaver moved her forward as Zoe scanned the crowd. She couldn't see her. She would have to get free and search the whole Market, which was larger than she expected.

Zoe walked into a building already planning her escape. She was pushed into a stall and the door closed and locked. Zoe went to the bars testing them and checking out the lock. She stopped hearing the slaver's words as he walked out of the building, "...the other Diabolique is being sold now. Let's see how much she is worth and we can double even triple ours."

Zoe had the pins out of her hair faster than she one could spit. She was rattling with the lock and she was so anxious she was messing up. Zoe stopped took a deep breath, let it out, and the lock clicked unlocking. She left the other slaves screaming for freedom. She turned and threw the pins to the nearest. Let them get themselves out. She ran past the guards who screamed at her. Someone stepped in her past and she ducked under the blow slamming her knee into their sternum and continued on. She had to hurry.

Zoe wasn't sure where she was going, but she could see a large group of people in front of her. She ran putting all her energy into her legs to get her there faster. She saw more guards ahead and she made a small detour using the bales of hay to jump up a stall, onto the roof of another stall, and come rolling down the other side. Zoe pushed herself to the front of the crowd to see her sister.

"CRIIIIIISTAAAAA!"

Crista turned her head and screamed Zoe's name. Zoe was spun around and she slammed her palm into the nose of the guard who grabbed her. She took his sword before he crumpled to the ground.

"Going twice..." Zoe threw the sword into the stage and jumped onto it and jumped up onto the stage grabbing her sister. "Sold!"

"NO," Zoe screamed. Crista's eyes were watering and she was holding onto Zoe screaming she was sorry. They both knew that Crista belonged to whoever bought her. The Diabolique were loyal in that regards. Their words were like life bonds they gave. If they broke it than they would kill themselves. Zoe turned to the man coming to take Crista.

"Who bought her? I'll pay triple what you bought her for. I'll do anything. Anything." Zoe pushed Crista behind her ready to come to an arrangement or kill Crista and herself. It'll be easy to snap Crista's neck and throw herself upon a sword. Crista clutched Zoe knowing that if Zoe couldn't save her like when they were children they were both dead. Crista trusted Zoe and knew she would be saved.
 
Mac strode forward, knowing the deal would be done by his father. He saw a commotion going on, but paid it no mind. He had several daggers, and two short swords strapped under his shirt, along his back. He wasn't worried until he saw the disturbance. It was another diabolique. She was the warrior, not the diabolique he bought. He shook his head, moving quickly, his mind figuring a solution out.

Mac hopped up onto stage then appeared in front of this new diabolique.

"I believe you are holding onto someone that I purchased," he said calmly, keeping a non-threatening tone to his voice. He knew she hadn't heard when she offered to buy back the girl. "I don't want to sell her. I need her to help take care of my business. Even if you offered twenty times what I paid, I wouldn't sell her. Now please remove your hands from her."

As Mac was saying this, he quietly noticed the guards surrounding the stage. He raised his hand, then tore his cloak off, the Orzo tribal tattoos standing out on his arms, his sleeveless shirt emphasizing them. "I'll buy both of them together for three times the girl's price," Mac said, wanting to avoid trouble. He knew he could take these guards, but also knew that it was easier to pay gold than pay blood.

As the auctioneer shakily nodded, he motioned for both girls to follow him somewhere more secluded. Once they were there, he quickly turned, surprising the new diabolique, pinning her against a wall with her hands against her side, a dagger surreptitiously pressed against her neck. "Now why should I sell this girl to you? You storm in, knowing what will happen if a "slave" breaks free of their chains or cage. You cause a disturbance in front of guards and nobles from clans not of our own. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't laugh at your offer and gut you here and now," he said, his voice hard, brooking no argument. The two guards at his back casually made sure no one looked their way as Mac dealt with this new addition to his house.

He didn't want to be this violent, but he had to figure out the true reason behind it all, and at least put up the pretense of punishing or threatening his purchase if anyone so happened to walk across them. "Tell me know, so that we can move somewhere quiet and discuss this," he said quietly, waiting for her answer.
 
Zoe looked over the man that strode forward claiming he was the one that had purchased her sister. She repeated her request to buy the slave and he denied her request. Zoe growled at the man ready to snap his fingers before killing what he so desperately wanted; Crista. He pleaded with her to remove her hands from Crista and Zoe didn't move silently daring the man to come at her. Give her a reason. Any reason. She would kill them both before submitting to this dishonor. "I want to live Zoe," Crista whispered in her ear. "Leave. Go. Forget me." Zoe's eyes widened in surprise. She couldn't. She couldn't leave her baby sister. She was to protect her always. Zoe didn't move. She couldn't.

Zoe noticed the guards and was ready to make a move. In the fight she would kill her sister just before herself. Than the man said something that had Zoe's gut clenching. He purchased her as well. Zoe wasn't a slave. The dishonor and shame tore through her. She was now forced to kill herself. She had been a bought slave. She was supposed to get away before that ever happened. Zoe looked to her right seeing the nearest dagger and contemplating the best way to get it and slice her own throat. "No, Zoe please. I can't live without you. I don't want to die. I don't want you to die."

Zoe was conflicted. What to do?

He motioned for Zoe and Crista to follow. Zoe was pushed from behind by her sister. Zoe would have rather went for the blade. They were just out of the range of the others when he sprang on her. Zoe wasn't afraid. She was ready to push herself on the blade. Hell, if she could think of a way maybe she could get the blade from this man kill Crista and then herself. It was the honorable thing to do.

"She's my sister," Crista said. "She came to save me. Please don't kill her."

Zoe glared at her sister. "Yes. But you have purchased us both. Which means I am truly dishonored now. I ask that you kill us both or I will kill her and then I."

"No," Crista screamed shrilly. "You were always there for me. You saved me every time. Please don't die. Let me go. YOu should have let me go. Our people and I need you. Not like this. Please not like this."

Zoe stared at her little sister her eyes softening. "I'll bargain with you. Let my sister go. Release her as a Free woman never to be caught by slavers again and I will be your slave until you release me or until you die. Than I will die with you. I will do whatever you want, whatever you need willingly. Just release my sister with papers so that she could never be captured again. Whatever perverse nature you have I can handle it. She can't."
 
Mac thought about what she said. "Fine, but I'll do one better than that. She will be freed, but will have the Orzo clan mark. This will guarantee she is not captured or killed. I don't break my word, or go back on my promises," Mac said, pulling a bracelet off of his wrist. He pulled Crista forward, then clamped the bracelet around her wrist, making sure it couldn't slip off.

He looked at her and smiled gently, his grey eyes twinkling. "I hope that you have better fortunes than the ones that brought you here. If you ever run into anyone of the Orzo clan, or any ally, show them this and they will help you, no matter the request." Mac said, then pulled Crista aside. "Do not worry about her. I will make sure that she is alive, and if she succeeds in helping me, she will eventually be released, with the same mark you bear. Look to that day if ever you need strength. If you are ever nearby, stop by to see her, but only if I am present."

Mac walked back to Zoe, then pulled a necklace with a steel pendant, worn from wear, off of his neck. He placed it around Zoe's neck, then closed the lock. He looked at her and raised her chin. "Be a proud Diabolique. You still have your honor to me, so act like it. You are not allowed to kill yourself, or even think about it. You will learn to do what I tell you to, and as quickly as you can. Failure is not an option in my line of work. Do not think of running away, or killing me to gain your freedom. If you follow those rules, I promise to be a kind and courteous master to you. I won't degrade you by forcing you to do something vulgar, but do not cross me. If you step out of line, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?" he said, firmly asking her the question. When she barely responded, he fixed her with a look right in the eyes, telling her that if she didn't repsond, or even thought about killing herself or her sister, she was going to reap the consequences faster and harder than she was prepared to stand. Seeing the steel return to her jaw and the fires return to her eyes. "That's the girl I want, not some broken vessel. Now answer your master that you understood me!" He said, smiling inwardly. He would see if she could succeed, or if she would fail. He hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst.

He secured her wrists, then her ankles, before searching her as thoroughly as he could. He looked to Crista. "What are you waiting for? You do not need to say goodbye to her. You will see her again. Go now before your sister does something stupid," he said firmly, knowing how Zoe, his new servant, could react, even in chains. He smiled slightly, to himself, as Crista slowly made her way into the wilderness. She had her pack with her now, and a small weapon to defend herself.

"Your sister will be alright. Again, if you even think of killing yourself, or your sister, you will suffer severely. No physical pain will be equal to what I decide as your punishment. You think you have some idea on how to beat me, or outlast me, but you are very wrong. Try me, my patience, or my limits, and watch your world crumble around you. The dishonor you think of now that would surely be bad will be worse. Imagine if your family found out about you being captured and sold as a slave," Mac said, making sure she understood that if she tried to end her life, his life, or her sisters life, or tried to resist, he would make sure that she reaped what she sowed. "Now lets get a move on. We need to get back to my house so that you can learn as much as possible, and as quickly as possible. As I said earlier, with failure comes punishment, but with success comes rewards. Perform admirably, and gain liberties. Try my patience and become what you were sold as: a slave," Mac threatened, his words carrying more weight.
 
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Zoe snorted. Crista didn't need the mark of the Orzo clan. She was Diabolique. Still Zoe didn't say anything as he proceeded to give Crista a bracelet something she could take off. Once everything was done and she could see his guards had witnessed the release of her sister she nodded. What's done is done. She gave her word and that was bound by everything she possessed. She was his until he released her or he died. Which would be very soon. As soon as Crista was safe.

Zoe nodded to Crista telling her to go. She didn't like the way this man commanded her sister about. Or how Crista could only visit Zoe once he was around. Oh yeah this man was going to die by the end of the day. "Go Crista. It'll be okay," Zoe was so intent on looking at Crista that she didn't notice the necklace coming off his neck. She almost punched him when he started to place it around her throat. She quickly steeled herself. Crista wasn't safe yet. She didn't need to see Zoe kill this man and his guards if need be.

The man dared touch her by raising her chin and Zoe just stared waiting for him to turn his back so she could take his blade and kill him. His next words caught her by surprise. He was telling her she couldn't kill him and then forcing her to agree to his words. Giving her word to be shamed. And worse she couldn't take her own life. Zoe barely nodded her head when his hand was upon her face. Her eyes widened at the shock and she jerked herself from jumping onto his chest and beating his face in.

"I agree and understand your fucking terms!"

Crista closed her eyes at the words. She opened them long enough for a moment between sisters to pass through them before she disappeared into the woods. Zoe knew she would be fine.

"I know my sister will be fine," Zoe growled at the man as he bound her. She hated that his hands were on her body searching her. Didn't he know she could kill him without a weapon. Dammit she promised she wouldn't kill him. Dammit she promised she wouldn't kill herself. What had she gotten herself into. He told her to move and Zoe stared at him with something akin to disgust. "Do you wish me to hop where you need me to go as you bound my wrists and my ankles. I have nothing to use as balance."

Zoe didn't like the use of the word slave. She knew he knew how it fucked with her and she hated that he was using it against her. First chance she got she was going to deck him for hitting her. The bastard.
 
"That bracelet won't come off, by the way. I pushed the ends together, and once they meet, they meld permanently. Only I can remove them, due to them being my personal crest. Now then. As for your mouth. You will either address me as sir or master. For every cuss word, you lose a meal. Starting with the next meal, you don't eat. That one word just cost you dearly, because we will only be eating once in the time it will take to get back to my house. I hope you are used to being starved," Mac said, shaking his head at her stupidity.

He felt her anger, and knew that she wanted to lash out. He turned around as they started walking. "I gave you enough chain to walk. Give me any more lip, and you will not eat until I think you are good and ready to. You live by my ways now. Not yours. You are no longer diabolique. You might act like one, but from now on, you are a slave. You earn your heritage back from me. If you so much as think of touching me, the consequences will be dire. For every finger you lay on me, your sister will suffer 10 lashes from one of my guards. They don't use regular whips. These whips are barbed and coated with a poison that, while not fatal, causes extreme pain. If you try an attempt on my life, your sister dies. I may have given my word that she would live, but you break it the first chance you try to kill me. Know this. I am indeed a man of my word. Mess with me, and you will cause those around you more pain and suffering than you can imagine. You might think I will break, but unlike your people, you will only run into a wall that will never break or change for you. Get used to learning to live by my ways," he said, noting it took its effect when she realized the danger she caused to herself and her family.

"Oh, and another thing about that bracelet. Your family has enemies because of your ways. Without that bracelet, she would be killed for being what she is. they see that bracelet and know that she is, first and foremost, a member of our clan, which gives her protection your clan doesn't come close to having. I am not trying to belittle the diabolique, but my clan doesn't have enemies due to our weapons manufacturing status. If you make enemies of us, you are killed off due to not having weapons to survive," Mac said, his back right in front of Zoe.

Mac's mind was a jumble. He knew that he had to be tough, but he didn't want to have to fulfill these promises. He was a man of his word, but he also knew how hotly tempered diabolique could be, having dealt with them before. He realized what it meant for her to be a slave, but knew that by making her a slave, she would obey his commands, even if she hated doing it. He realized that he did need her help, but not if she was going to be difficult at every turn. Better to get it out of the way now, than later when she thought she had too much freedom, and he had to act.

Mac snapped out of his thoughts as he looked at Zoe. He tilted her chin up, seeing her grimace. He waited until his guards were out of sight before looking into her eyes. "I know what it took for you to do that for your sister, and I understand some of the thoughts going through your head. I thought you were amazingly brave, a true credit to the diabolique. I know you don't like me touching you, so I will respect this one wish from you after this," Mac said, leaning down and kissing her softly. He watched as her expression turned from one of surprise to anger, to plain rage. "Remember who you are. I am a patient man, and do not want to act on the promises I made. Do not force my hand by doing something rash because of the moment. That was a salute to your bravery, courage, and dedication. Even if you hate me, want me dead, despise me, use it to focus on what I set before you. Complete all that I set before you, and you will be free. On that day, your promise to not kill me will be broken, and if you so wish it, I will provide you the weapon to do it, if you so choose that method. I am not a cruel man, but again, do not test me. Those promises will be enforced if need be. Oh, I can find your sister. The bracelet has a tracker in it, mainly to keep her safe or help her if she ever needs it. Please do not make me hurt her, or dishonor you further by doing something stupid. Like I said, use that rage, anger, hatred to complete your tasks. If that is the only thing that drives you, then so be it. Follow my rules, and complete your tasks. Do this, and you shall have your freedom," Mac said, turning and walking back to his guards. He hoped what he said got through to her, otherwise those promises, and punishments, would have to be fulfilled.
 
Zoe listened to the claim about the bracelet thinking that her sister didn't need two hands and she could just chop it off and take the damn thing off. Simple solution solved. Though if she knew her sister she wasn't Diabolique enough to do it. But one of her sisters or brothers could. Crista would just have to understand. Her head snapped to the man as he basically broke his own word saying he would harm her sister. Men of these days have no loyalty. Plus Zoe didn't care about being starved. Hell, starving to death was was more honorable than being the slave of a man. "Go fuck yourself dipshit." Zoe arched an eyebrow listening to the sounds of Crista running away. She was sure that her trackers would have followed or would follow her and come get Crista. She was sure of it. As sure as she was next in line to the Diabolique. For now she would have to think of another way to seek her revenge.

"The Diabolique will never fall. She have risen against all odds. We will never stop fighting. We will annihilate anything that gets in our way. So if you want to declare war on my people than go ahead. If we all die in battle than so be it. If the Goddess of War deems my people to fall than we will be happy to die in the face of battle. There is no other glory." Zoe spoke from the heart her words passionate.

He was touching her again and Zoe wanted to snap her teeth at him. She was a bit confused as his tone was softer and he was complimenting her. It was a trap. She knew it. Just what kind of trap she wasn't sure. Then he kissed her. Her eyes widened in surprise and then she could only see red. How dare he kiss her? She would kill him. She strained against her bonds finding that they held true. Fucker! How dare he put his lips on the lips of the Diabolique. She would wipe out his useless little clan and cut his lips from his face. When he pulled away she growled.

"I gave my word. Now stop your insignificant threats and lead the fucking way. Oh and to remind you you promised not to lay a hand on me. That includes your lips. Kiss me again and you will be bringing war upon your clan and my people." Zoe took 5 steps before stopping once more. "Oh, and I will take you up on your offer to relieve you of your pathetic existence on this plane as soon as I have 'fulfilled my obligations' to you." She continued walking.

Soon they had left the place behind them. They were far from sight and sound as two Diabolique trackers came out from the brush. They looked at eachother. Yes, it was dishonorable to be taken as a slave, but their Next Queen had done it to save their weakest member. They felt more honor for her than they thought they could. They knew the name of the clan and their destination. For now they would finish what Zoe started and protect Crista and bring her home. Then they will decide what to do about their Next Queen. Go to war or wait for her to gain her freedom. The Diabolique smiled. The former was more fun.
 
Mac smiled. He wasn't stupid. He knew that Zoe would be tracked. "If you trackers try anything, your family will know your dishonor. You will then be removed from the line for the throne. I know how this works in your clan. I've dealt with Diabolique enough in my business to pick up on a few small things. They might feel gratitude and honor you for saving your sister, but when everyone finds out you are a slave, your honor will be gone. As for war, your clan would die. We don't look to fight, but your clan mean nothing to us. You want war, fine, but be prepared to be the last diabolique on this planet," Mac said. "I'm choosing to ignore your flare up for now, but remember, if you try to die of starvation, what will happen to those you care about? I never gave my word that your sister would not be killed by one of my clan, just that I would let her go free. My bracelet will provide protection for her from your enemies. If she removes it, she can be captured and sold again. Don't think that I gave my word that I would not harm her."

Mac shook his head at this girl's determination. She could rant and scream all she wanted, but at the end of the day, he wouldn't break. The two trackers, or the threat of war from another clan meant little to him. If they came seeking blood, they would die.

As Mac and his entourage made their way back home, he thought about all that had happened because his father was too stupid to understand Mac didn't want help. He might not realize it, but he could have sentenced his people to an untimely accident. They would survive an onslaught, but not without casualties. Why couldn't he have just let Mac be? Mac just shook his head, then continued walking.

The small group didn't stop for rest, and they ate as they walked, eating things that they either found or brought for the journey home. Mac could see Zoe lagging behind, looking extremely fatigued. He had known she had been up for several days now, and had had little to eat. She would say she was fine, but he knew better. He shook his head. She had made her bed, now she had to sleep in it. He just kept on walking, but sent a guard to walk behind her and make sure that she didn't drop from exhaustion or hunger.

Mac, Zoe,and the guards made it back to their house without incident. Mac took possession of Zoe and moved her to a room in his house. He decided to trust her, figuring that once she gave her word, she would keep it as well. He had her sleep in his room. He knew that if she wanted to kill him, she would do it whenever she thought she could. He shook his head and hoped she wouldn't be stupid. He moved a small bed into one of the corners of his room, letting her know it was his. He then went down to the forge and stripped to the waist, leaving her standing in a corner, surrounded by weapons, with only one word, "learn."
 
He was still talking. Zoe tuned him out not listening. Not entirely true. She was half listening for anything of importance aside from his usual threats. Zoe rolled her eyes. If this man touched one hair on her sister's head she would gut him like a fish. Hell come to her, but she would make sure this man suffered before he died. With that thought she found comfort. And with that comfort she found solace. Still she had to do what this excuse of a man said. With his harsh than kind confusing mixed up ways.

Zoe was lost in her thoughts as they walked. Zoe was the only one on the caravan that had slept at night. She wasn't afraid of anyone trying to rape her at night and wasn't afraid of anyone trying to kill her either. She was a light sleeper and always prepared to fight. So though the walk was long she wasn't as fatigued as she should have been. Though the not eating and the adrenaline from earlier was having it's effect on her. She started to lag behind. She wasn't offered any food and she didn't ask for any. She had been on many trekkages where food wasn't readily available. As long as she got water she was fine. Almost as if the guard could read her thoughts he stopped her and reached for his water pouch. He poured some in her mouth and walked beside her. Zoe smiled. So her lagging behind hadn't been unnoticed.

The sun was just setting when they arrived to the village. She saw some people staring at her and she held her chin high. Yes, she was Diabolique and yes she was in bondage. It was shameful but her intentions were honorable. She would not feel bad for what she is enduring. She refused too. She was led to a good size home and wasn't allowed to get acquainted with it before she was pushed into a room. She saw what was to be her bed ... in his room. Bloody hell.

Than he laughed telling her to learn. She looked around. She knew the various weapons and some she didn't. She would have loved to pick them up but she was still bound. She wasn't going to learn a new weapon while bound. So she took the sword and cut through her ties. Free she stretched her muscles hearing them pop. She moaned. It felt so good. She looked over the various weaponry. Her owner was wrong. The Diabolique knew how to use weapons, they had weapons. Theirs were just more natural made and made to blend into the surroundings. They had swords and blades but Zoe liked them to be smaller easier to maneuver without cutting into her speed and agility.

Zoe stared at the various items trying to decide if she should keep up the pretense of his own lack of knowledge that she didn't know the weapons. Zoe looked behind her. She was alone. She picked up an interesting staff. There were 3 buttons on it. She held it away and pressed the first button. The staff elongated until it was about 6 feet tall. She pressed the second button and the two ends swung out moving back and forth. She pressed the third button and the staff shortened again.

Zoe's eyes lit up. She started swinging it around testing its capabilities. To block an attack, push the button the end swings out giving it an extra few feet to hit and enemy. Push the button and it stiffens again. So many possibilities. So much fun.
 
"I see you like the staff I made. I designed that thinking it could be fun to practice with, then realized its capabilities. I see you are familiar with it. If you ever have a question about any weapons here, don't be afraid to ask. I can train you in the ones you don't know, and probably learn from you in the ones you do know," Mac said, walking up behind her with a few blocks of metal. He set them down next to the furnace, then pulled an apron on. He pulled the steel rod that was heating out, and setting it on the anvil, proceeded to make a light, strong short sword to replace one of the swords he kept strapped to his back. He hated the cumbersome weapons most of his clan made, and dreamed of making weapons that were light as a feather, but stronger than ever.

He gestured around the room. "This is my business. I know that you know some of these weapons, probably most of them. What you don't know, ask so that I can explain them to you. Your job is to clean them, keep them gleaming. If you train with one, put it back in the exact place, cleaner than when you started. I would expect no less from a diabolique royal," he said, nodding to her. He picked up a bit about the royal family from the two or three trades he had done with the diabolique, and found that one of the royals was named Zoe, just like her. He wasn't fully sure if it was her, but figured he would at least try.

"Now that we are alone, the pretenses can be cast away. While in public, you will follow what I have said. Otherwise I have to carry those threats out. My clan is all about appearances. I would have rather you not been here, rather your sister not been captured. But that is life. The Gods decided something, and here we are. You don't like me, want me dead, and I can understand that. While you are living here, remember why you are here and just do that. You can be civil with me in this house, as long as it is us. I gave you my word I wouldn't touch you, and so I won't. I will also try to be a civil, if not kind, "master" to you. I know that you hate that word, hate the thought of being subservient. That's life though. Just as you are subservient to me, I am subservient to others. Work hard, do things the right way, and you'll make it out alive to kill me. If you fail, you stay at that task longer, adding to what you have to do. You can be months behind what needs to be done for doing a task wrong. So don't. I know you are a very smart girl. You have to be for going about getting to your sister the way you did. Use those smarts to outlast this. You might think it's strange, but I hate the thought of someone being subservient to me. You are an equal to me right now while we are alone, in this house. If you want, rant, yell, scream, curse me, hit me, but do not wound, leave bruises, or try to kill me. That would have to be punished. While we are here in my sanctuary, we are equals in my eyes, so don't abuse that privilege," Mac said. He knew that she wanted him dead, wanted to be free and have her honor. He knew she didn't want to be here almost as much as he didn't want her to be here. Unfortunately, the Gods thought otherwise. He shook his head and continued to work the metal, skillfully placing hammer blows to form the sword before quenching it, then reheating it, smoothing out edges, and continuing to quench and reheat it to give the steel strength.

He felt Zoe still looking at weapons. "If none of those are to your liking, there is another room with my preference of weapons. I've tried to put all my skill into those. They are lighter, faster, and stronger than the weapons in here. This short sword will join the daggers, throwing knives, swords, and other weapons in that room. Anything in this house is yours to ask about, but don't think about killing yourself or me, ok?" he finished quietly, going back to working the metal.

He quickly lost focus of his surroundings, letting his feelings flow through his work to shape the sword into something beautiful, not just an instrument of death. He tried to add details, worthless to some, but meaningful to him since they added to his idea of what a weapon should be. He wasn't extravagant, far from it. Everything he put on a weapon was designed to help it's purpose. This short sword was thinner along the blade than any other short sword he made. It was designed to be lighter and faster, but the spine of the blade was a harder steel than he normally used, giving it strength to hold up under even the most devastating blow. The handle allowed for adequate space to grip the weapon, or use a hand and a half if only one short sword was present. The guard protected the wrist and fingers with a cross, allowing it to catch any strike but a stab. As Mac came out of his trance, he realized how much time had passed. He looked around, seeing Zoe still watching him. He set the piece down on a padded leather counter, then looked at her.

"Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?" he asked, pulling the heavy apron off and wiping the sweat off of his torso.
 
Zoe turned her head at her owner's voice. She hadn't heard him approach. Hell, with the fire roaring, the sounds from outside, the house constantly creaking and her being in a new surrounding she hadn't distinguished the normal noises from footsteps. She would have to process that quickly if she wanted to stay on alert. She stared at the staff. "It is nicely made and I like the intricities of buttons, wires, and wood." Zoe replaced the weapon and took a few steps back so they were out of reach. She wasn't going to hurt him, but she didn't want temptation either. She was sure he was going to make more threats and she would want to ram him with a blade.

As he spoke she learned what she was to be doing. Cleaning. And a lot of it. As she looked over the wall seeing the weapons she figured it would take maybe a few weeks and then she would be free. Not too bad. She didn't say anything or give any indication that she was of the royal bloodline. She just kept staring at the weapons and let him speak on.

Than he did it again. His voice softened his demeanor changed and she found herself getting suspicious. What kind of act was this? She nodded. She understood what he wanted. Outside of the home she was to behave as subservient as she could, but in the home she could be herself as long as she didn't hurt him too badly. Zoe found herself smiling. Oh, she could hurt him well enough without bruises or wounds showing up. You just had to know how to hit. He might have just opened himself up to a good little beating.

Zoe's eyes did widen when he said there was another room full of weapons that needed cleaning. This might take longer than she thought. "So I'm to be however I want inside these walls and clean your armory. After that I'm done and you'll hand me the weapon of my choice to slaughter you like the pig you are?" Zoe wanted to make sure she understood the situation perfectly. She watched him start to make a sword and she became entranced in the way he worked. It was like the river flowing as he molded the steel into the design he chose. It was hard work she could see, but then he put little touches on it and Zoe could tell he was a Master of his craft. He looked up and caught her eyes.

"I would like food," she said in answer to his question. "I also don't know how to clean these weapons properly and would need a demonstration before I try any of this on my own."
 
Mac smiled at her, then shook his head. "You aren't just cleaning weapons. I have months, if not years, of paperwork that needs to be done. You saw what happens when I work. I've spent days down here without realizing it. I've stopped working on pieces, realizing I've missed days, or even a week, only to realize I'm famished and have tons of papers to do. As for the weapons, I'll show you how to clean them. And yes, once you are free, you can pick any weapon here, and kill me with it if that's what you decide," he said, getting up and walking to the kitchen, smiling as she fell in behind him. He thought back to what he said, then realized how much trouble he could have been in for saying that. Orzo clan law stated that slaves were always to be subservient. If they so much as looked the wrong way, they could be punished. Luckily, since his trade was so valued, the elders were lenient with him. He knew it might be needed with Zoe.

He pulled a chair out for Zoe, then started moving around the kitchen with practiced ease. He had learned at a young age how to cook, being forced to after his father drove him out of the house. He smiled, humming softly to himself as he forgot about Zoe, making his favorite meal. the livestock in the clan provided rich nutrients, and the small game in the forests around the village allowed for variety. He quickly made a salad, ground beef and venison burgers, and rye bread.

As he was cooking he finally relaxed. He knew Zoe could hurt him if she wanted, but hoped she wouldn't. He wasn't trying to trap her, just try to treat her like the human she was. He extended courtesy to everyone, unless custom dictated otherwise. This was part of the reason why he was so behind. He rarely ventured out into the presence of others due to the strict customs the Orzo clan had of meetings out in public. He snapped back to what he was doing, flipping the burgers with a practiced ease before pulling them off and setting them on the rye bread.

"Lunch, or dinner, is served," he said, sitting down and demolishing his meal. He didn't mean to eat so fast, but a new piece he was developing was quickly forming in his mind, and he didn't want to lose it. He quickly finished, then went down to the forge, pulling the block of metal from where he set it, letting it heat before pulling it out and elongating it. He continued this process, until he had a cylindrical pole about ten feet long. He heated and quenched the rod, repeating the process to make it lighter and stronger than he normally did. After he did that, he divided it into three sections, the two ends being longer than the middles. He was basing it off of the staff, but adding a few minor details. He could tell that Zoe was more of a light weapons fighter, and didn't like to be weighed down with bulky weapons, or weapons that couldn't be concealed. They were alike in that regard. He hollowed the rod out, then added the mechanisms to allow it to break down into sections, or extend to the rigid ten foot length. He added flanges to the ends that were spring loaded, making the staff even more formidable. His last addition was the ability to compress the staff down to a 5 foot length, or an even smaller 8 inch length.

Mac stretched, feeling the soreness from his muscles and joints, protesting the positions he stayed locked in to complete the new weapon. He picked it up, and flipped through the different settings, testing each out, satisfied that each worked. He smiled and then went to find Zoe. Once he found her, he handed it to her. "Think of the staff you liked, only with a few new perks. This might end up being the weapon you kill me with, but thank you for inspiring me to make it," he said quietly, realizing it had taken several hours to complete the weapon. He turned and walked towards his room, stripping to the waist before rinsing himself off and laying in his bed. He was asleep within minutes.
 
As he spoke her eyes got wider and her heart dropped. So this might take a lot longer than she thought. He spoke so calmly and matter of factly that she followed him without thinking even though she was looking around the house with concern. Oh, hell she might be here for a long time. Still if it saved her sister from this man or a life of enslavement than she would gladly take this punishment.

Zoe sat as he worked his way around the kitchen. By the time he was done she was famish and when he sat a plate in front of her she ate slowly out of fear she would gobble the whole thing down. It was very good and she nodded her approval. She needn't had worried, because he ate like he didn't taste his meal; just swallowed the whole thing down. Than got up and left. He just left her. Curious she debated running away, killing him, killing herself, but knew it was no good. She was his fair and square.

Zoe finished her meal and ate seconds. Once she was done she cleaned up the dishes and put away the left overs. She slowly walked to the back following the sounds of metal and other sounds she didn't know what he was doing. He was working and as interesting as it was she needed to know exactly how much work she had to do. The house was bigger than she thought and filled with all sorts of various weapons. She was looking at them and had taken down a long blade. She tested it finding that it was evenly balanced and rested nicely in her hand even though it was slightly too big; obviously made for a man. She twirled it a bit, but found the extra weight taxing. She could wield it but it wasn't something she would keep on her at all times.

It was the footsteps that alerted her that her owner was finished with whatever spell took him over. She turned and saw he had a small weapon in his hand. She took it and her head lifted in surprise at his words. Did he really make a weapon for her to ... kill him with? She held it out and saw the buttons. She pressed them all getting familiar with it.

"It's light and easily concealed. Thank you."

Zoe slid it into a hidden pouch at her hip. She was going to ask him what his name was, but he turned and walked away leaving her alone. Zoe sighed. She went through the rest of the house getting acquainted with it and finally went to the room where her bed was. She pulled out her new weapon and sat down on top of the bed. She leaned against the wall and let herself fall into a light sleep. If he moved she woke up and watched him before falling asleep again. She would hear if he woke up and would react if he came near her. She wasn't taking any chances.
 
Mac woke up, then shook his head. The fog quickly cleared away, and he stood up, getting ready for the long, menial day ahead of him. He had to explain everything to Zoe now, from paperwork to cleaning.

"Wake up," he said softly, knowing she would hear. He figured they were more alike than she realized. He never really slept fully. Too many years under his father's thumb had seen to that. He stayed in his sleepware, not caring what she thought. He had shorts on, and that was decent enough for him.

Mac walked down to the kitchen, scrambling eggs, adding cheese and bacon, while toasting more bread and pouring juice. He finished quickly, then set a plate piled with food in front of Zoe. "Eat, you'll need it for today. Neither of us will have much time off," he said, tearing into his food, grabbing seconds and wolfing them down quickly. He cleared his dish, then went to change into a pair of heavy shorts and steel-toed boots. He didn't bother with a shirt as he ran his hands through his hair, before stepping into the office.

He heard Zoe behind him, and knew she probably just died a little when she saw the mess. Stacks of papers covered three desks, as well as boxes piled along the floor. He looked at her and smiled. "Most of that just needs to be organized. The back room is where you will actually have to do paperwork. This will probably take about 3 months to square away. The actual paperwork could take closer to a year if the peak times are bad," Mac said, shrugging. He would help her when she needed it and he had the time, but otherwise it was her responsibility.

"That weapon I gave you is for personal protection, training, and a walking staff outside of these walls only. That means that if you go outside with me, it either stays hidden or as a staff. If you break it down to attack someone, they have the right to demand satisfaction. I have no power to stop them without killing them. That could cause problems since the weapon is my make. If someone attacks you, then you are allowed to use it, but only to disarm them. No more than that. "Slaves" around here earn the right to carry weapons, and most will think you haven't earned it. Until I let you know, just keep it as a staff," he said.

"I'll be in the shop if you need me. I have some new ideas to try out and see if I can get things to work. If you need help, come find me. Right now, stick to organizing until midday. Come down to the forge and I will show you how to clean weapons. You will then spend the mornings organizing this mess, and the afternoons cleaning the various weapon rooms. Right now, there are 7 rooms, but that doesn't include my own personal rooms. Those you will not enter unless I am there. Now get to work. I'll be where you hear all the noise coming from," Mac said gruffly.

He strode down to the shop, his boots making a dull thump with each step. He didn't bother with the apron today, knowing that the sparks would hit no matter what. He took out two large blocks and set them in the forge, heating them. He pulled them out and cut them in half. After hollowing them out, he left an inch this edge that he rounded, leaving spikes, to form a mace head in each block. He then took the waste metal and melted it back down. He used those scraps to turn into a fine powder that he left inside the metal to use as a weight, then sealed the two halves together. The mace heads were lighter than normal mace heads, but the weight allowed for them to hit with more impact than a normal mace. He started on the chains, making it so they wouldn't kink, using circular links. He finished with the handles, leaving grooves on the ends of each handle to thread them together if the wielder so chose. Mac set his handiwork down, then turned around, seeing Zoe standing there. "Were you waiting long?" he asked.
 
Zoe's eyes snapped opened when she heard him tell her to wake up. She didn't change her body position or tilt her head. Just opened her eyes and stare at him. He wasn't wearing much and on any other given day she would have admired his physique. His upper body toned from all the hard work he done, but today wasn't one of those days. Than he left. She figured he wanted her to follow, but she would take her time. She stretched and rubbed the salt from her eyes. Than she went in search of a bathroom doing her morning ritual and a quick scrub of her body. The smell of food had her stomach grumbling and she was heading down the stairs.

By the time she got there the food was made and there was a plate for her. She was getting a little tired of his commands, but said nothing as she ate. Again he ate like he swallowed the food whole instead of tasting and admiring the food. She inwardly shook her head and ate her fill managing to finish one plate by the time he had eaten two. She followed putting up her dishes and there wasn't much left overs so those dishes were added to theirs. He walked away and she cleaned the dishes and put them up for the next meal. She turned and He wasn't there. She still had no idea what his name was and every time she meant to ask something else came up that prevented her from doing so. She was determined to find out the name of the man who had taken her submission.

She found him in a large room that looked like a tornado went through it. She blinked taken by surprise. No wonder he was desperate for help. Any sane person would like at this and turn around. This was ridiculous. He spoke so matter-of-factly and she was a little pissed that he had allowed his workspace to become like this. She would have boxed his ears. Instead she nodded her head not saying anything, but taking it all in. Where to begin? It was daunting. She took a step inside, but he was warning her about her weapon. She looked down at it noticing it was still in her hands and she hadn't let it go since he gave it to her. She slid it into her hidden pocket and nodded.

"I understand. Use for self defense only or under your command."

She took another step into the office. "Hey, what is your name or what shall I call you," she turned around, but he was gone. She hadn't even heard him walk away. Zoe sighed and began to put all the paperwork in huge piles in dates. Than she'll take those dates and arrange them into orders for weapons and those weapons into last name. It seemed like the best way to find anything. You'll just go to the date, then pull up the weapon, and look for the last name and you have your person and if that person had purchases multiple weapons there was a section for that too. But she was still a long ways off from that.

Zoe was hungry and tired. She needed a break and from the look of the sun's positioning she had been working for hours. She stood up hearing her back crack and her joints creaks. She stretched and went into the kitchen. It didn't look like a meal had been prepared and she made a quick one of sandwiches with a meat that smelled and tasted delicious, but she wasn't sure what. She made him 3 of them and one for herself and found a bottle of ale they could enjoy. She went in search of him and found him hard at work. She didn't think he was going to stop and then suddenly he did. Just like that. She had already placed the tray down holding on the food and he just looked at quizzically.

"A little, but I didn't want to interrupt you. I brought food and drink." She motioned to the only spot that looked clean where she had sat out the food. "I thought you might be hungry." She walked over to the food and picked up a sandwhich biting into it. She wasn't sure if she was telling him that she hadn't poisoned the food and it was good to eat. She sipped the ale and made a slight face. It was bitter than what she was used too at home. It tasted more like Mead than ale. She slowly swallowed.

"What is your name?" There she had finally asked the question she was dying for. "Also it seemed you're out of meat so I was wanting to go hunting and try out my new weapon in combat." This part seemed to get stuck in Zoe's throat. She wasn't used to asking, but she knew she had to. She almost didn't, but she was already halfway there. "If that's okay with you?"
 
Mac smiled, then grabbed a sandwich. "We can start training now," he said. He slipped off his apron, discarding his shoes, leaving himself in just shorts. They were a heavier weave than most, yet still allowed for free range of motion. Fire suddenly leapt into his eyes as his twin swords appeared in his hands.

He slowly walked out onto the training floor, rolling his shoulders. He was loose from working, and his frame felt great. He smiled as he waited for Zoe. Absently, he started hopping from foot to foot, knowing that he liked to keep moving until a fight started.

He smiled as she set her food down and snapped the rod out of her pouch. "Just a word or two before we begin. While we can kill each other, only touches. I know you want me dead, but leave that for when you can't get anyone in trouble. For now, just feel your weapon out, and show me the true power of your people," Mac said, the inner fire growing brighter. Finally, someone who he was equal to, and might be able to beat him. He settled into a crouch, then prepared, one swordpoint dropping to the floor, the other sword resting on his shoulder.

Mac tensed and shook himself, looking forward to this. This was one time he could let himself go. He wasn't going to hurt her, but wanted to see what she was capable of.

"Oh, as for hunting, we will go later today. I don't want you getting lost, and I enjoy it as well as you do. We don't have to hunt together, but I definitely have to go with you, and we both need to get out of the house from time to time. Now! Let's begin," Mac said, stepping forward, then waiting, seeing what Zoe would do.
 
Zoe finished her sandwich. She was hungry after all. She watched him as he slowly got undress or as undressed as he was going to get. She wiped her hands and decided her attire was good enough for a little jousting. She met him in the middle and held out her fist with her staff in her hands. She pushed the staff and it sprung open to full length. She twirled it in a circle in her hands. "Are your swords going to cut my staff? I would hate for it to be cut before I could use it in actual battle."

Zoe nodded her head to his words, but stilled. "I cannot show my power of my people without the mindset to kill you. I would do anything to kill you even sacrificing myself. So I would need to hold back and not take advantage of killing blows. That will be the difference in the true power of my kin and this jousting session."

Zoe got prepared for the fight, but he was giving her more instructions on the events later in the day and since they were talking and fighting she decided to ask her question again for the second time. "And your name? I have asked before and I do not look forward to asking a third time. As a matter of fact I won't. I will instead call you He who has no name and will only respond to you as such," Zoe paused for a moment letting that sink in. "Or you could give me your name."

Zoe waited a moment and decided talking was done. Her first move was more to test her weapon than to test him against her weapon. She thrust her staff out towards his face stopping about a foot from his nose. She pressed the button at the right moment and the end broke off swinging towards his face and would impact him if he didn't block it. She twirled and brought the other end up from her staff also pressing that button to make the end swing off towards him before pressing another button and making the staff solid again to block any attacks he would bring her way. She jumped back a bit grinning. Oh she did like this weapon very much.
 
Mac smiled at her test. She was going to have to earn his name, and he didn't think she was going to do it easy. He waited until her staff popped back, then he suddenly sprang forward, bowling Zoe to the ground. In a flash, he was on top of her, his sword against her neck.

"This is what I mean by holding your killing blow. Touch only. As for my name," he paused, debating on whether he should tell her. "It's Mac. You haven't earned the right to know, or use my given name. So Mac is what you will call me while inside this house. Outside of this house, it's Sir, or Master. Now, again!" he said, getting up and waiting. He knew she would be angry and ready to fight. He also knew she wouldn't underestimate his size again, so would have to fight now.

The match that followed was an intense, almost poetic display of skill. Even while Zoe was getting used to her weapon, finding the reach, ways to manipulate the given parts, she still possessed that fighting instinct needed to survive in their worlds. He grinned, looking down at his red forearm after a particularly swift series of exchanges. He nodded to her as they started again. Mac knew this would be the last round, as the time was flying much quicker than expected, and they would need to hunt soon.

He rushed forward, keeping his feet as he pressed his attack. He knew his size was not a factor, so instead tried to use his skill. He quickly found her an even match, especially after she got comfortable with her weapon. Mac lost himself in his dance as he saw Zoe starting to do the same. Both of them were concentrating on the task at hand, and Mac failed to realize a subtle shift until it was too late. He realized it as he ended up on his back, Zoe standing over him.

"Very good. I can see that if we don't kill each other, we could learn a great deal from practicing with each other using any weapon in this house. And it's Jace. After that display, you've earned the right to know my name," he said, standing up. He grabbed a towel and wiped himself off, setting another towel close to Zoe. He couldn't tell what was going through her head. He figured he had surprised her by telling her his actual name, but he wasn't sure.

"Now then. We need to hunt, otherwise we are going to have to go into town to buy meat. I don't particularly want to go into town, so lets go. I'm bringing a bow and a few knives. Bring whatever you would normally hunt with. We stay at each other's side though. I don't want you getting lost, or for you to get an inclination to run away or try and kill me. I'm not really worried that you'll do either, but there are other Orzo members who hunt in these woods, and I at least have to keep up appearances. Now, lets get a move on so we find something to eat for tonight," Mac said, throwing on a shirt and sliding back into his boots as he strapped a quiver of arrows onto his back, alongside his bow. He grabbed a bandoleer of knives and then proceeded to head upstairs, leaving Zoe to select her hunting weapons.
 
Zoe wasn't paying much attention to him and for her lapse she was awarded with him being on top of her with his sword in her neck. Her heart pounded, her adrenaline surged, and she was moist between the thighs. From his look she knew he didn't know what he had just done. It was a form of foreplay and she closed her eyes just so he couldn't see the lust entering them. It was the Diabolique way. Rough take down and force; oh he didn't know what he was doing to her. His gruff voice only added to her ardour, but she barely nodded her head and waited for him to get up. She understood she was given a nick name and to call him Sir outside of the home.

At the end of it all Zoe had to admit he was a skilled fighter as well as a skill weapon maker. It took a lot for her to get the upper hand and it helped her hone her skills. It was a good work out. She saw her respect for him go up a notch. She was owned, yes and it was shameful, but he was a warrior in his own right so it helped her swallow the sour taste of being a slave. She retracted her weapon and her head whipped around when he said another name. Did he just tell me his name? His real name? Zoe felt some pride in that and nodded her approval. "Thank you Sir Jace," she said softly.

Zoe sighed. "I gave my word that I won't kill you or run away. I understand staying close to you so the others in your Clan won't hurt me or you. But please stop warning me on running away or killing you." Zoe watched Jace select his weapons and clothes. She didn't need anymore and was willing to use her hands or her weapon. She followed him respectfully out of the home noting people taking an interest in him, but mostly with him. She thought the town would be more suspicious or curious of her, but they were oggling him with something akin to awe and what she couldn't quite place maybe satisfaction? Zoe wasn't sure, but it was intriguing. Was he long overdue for a slave in their eyes? Kinda like he finally got what was coming to him?

Before she knew it they were deep in the forest. Zoe branched off and though she was out of sight she could hear Jace. She sat down almost covering herself completely in a thicket and just waited. She loved the outdoors, the smell of the fresh air, the sun beaming down on her warming her skin, the sounds of the animals as the circle of life evolved. She felt the animals slowly become acquainted with her and ignored the feeling of ants and bugs climbing over her. It was the touch of fur that had her hand snaking out and grabbing the ears. She looked down and saw that it was a good size hare. She twisted its neck and slowly stood up brushing the bugs and dirt off her.

"Jac...Master!" Zoe didn't want to get in trouble and he had told her what to call him. Though it left a bitter taste in her mouth. She had heard him down wind from her. She assumed he could smell her. That's when she smelt something else with the next wind. Something that could eat her. Or more than likely wanted her fresh kill. She looked up and just between the trees almost invisible was a mountain lion. She could see the sunlight reflecting off its eyes. She slowly dropped the rabbit and backed away, but the eyes watched her. It was no longer in the mood for an easy meal.

Zoe smiled. She slowly unsheathed her new weapon. It was like Zoe was attuned with the animal. She could feel it's muscles bunching. She slowly held it out so the mountain lion could see it and then she pressed the button. As soon as it snapped to full spring it was like a gunshot to the lion it lept at Zoe and she rolled out of the way laughing. The lion came back around to snap its massive jaws at her and Zoe spun just out of the way, used her staff to block it's claws, and managed to smack it on the nose. The lion backed up a step as Zoe rolled to her knees and stood up. The lion shook his head as though it was shocked she smacked him.

Zoe could hear footsteps and then the clear distinct sound. "Jace, I was going to help her, but I couldn't get a clear shot. I've been watching, but it almost seems like she's playing with the animal."

Zoe turned her head towards Jace catching his eyes. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the animal move towards her but she held up her hand a signal to halt and in disbelief of the 5 men there it stopped. She pointed to the rabbit she had killed meaning to Jace that she had hunted, but the lion must have taken that as 'here you can have it,' he went to it, sniffed it and then picked it up with his massive jaws and ran deep into the forest.

One of the men approached Zoe. "What the hell was that? How did you do that?"

Zoe looked at Jace not sure of the custom here. He had warned her so often she wasn't sure if she was allowed to speak to the man or not. Did she need to wait for Jace's approval? Jace gave a subtle nod and Zoe turned back to the man. "She wanted to hunt." That was all she had to say on the mountain lion subject. She turned back to Jace. "Did you fare well on the hunt?"
 
Jace smiled and nodded, showing the multiple hares he had killed. He smiled at Zoe's ability to interact with animals, a trait he also shared. He looked to another member of his clan and shrugged. "When you understand yourself, you understand others. Zoe knows what she is, and knows how to understand others. I've done it before, although not as well as her. If you'll excuse us, we need to get moving," he said, not caring for the gawking expressions.

As he and Zoe walked, he realized how much they were alike, yet how different they were. He pondered on it until they got back to his house. After ushering Zoe inside, he stripped out of his shoes and shirt, then went into the kitchen. Wasting little time, Mac quickly had the hares skinned and processed. He smiled as he pulled out a pan, humming to himself as he started cooking. He decided to deep fry the hare meat, save what was left, and have a salad, herbal tea, and some bread as supper.

He smiled when he heard the shuffle of feet on the floor. "You did very well today. My praise might not mean much to you, but what you were able to do with that mountain lion shows your abilities. Thank you for not being another mindless member of the clan and slaughtering it. that lion and I go back a little ways," Mac said as he continued to work. When he heard Zoe sit down, he smiled and held his left arm up, showing her the long, jagged scars along his ribs.

"I was mauled by a cave bear. I was out hunting and had done pretty well, bagging two deer. I was getting up from gutting the second deer when I was hit. It took two swipes at my left side, leaving me these. I would have been dead but for that mountain lion. I don't know why, but it attacked the bear, driving it off of me. It got injured in the process, and I somehow got it and the deer carcasses home. The lion and I spent close to two months here, healing and getting to know each other. The black tufts of fur you saw in it's coat were from where it was wounded. Ever since then, whenever I hunt, we always run into each other, and I always leave at least one hare for it. The fact that it didn't attack you showed that you are an animal yourself, like it sees in me," he said, going back to cooking. He realized he hadn't told anyone in his whole clan that story, yet here he was telling her his whole life, or so it seemed. He shook his head and sighed.

After putting dinner on the table, he sat down and ate slowly, trying to think. He realized that he liked having Zoe around. He didn't like that she was subservient at times, but it was nice to have someone else around who was somewhat like he was. He also realized that their sparring match had been one of the most erotic displays he had seen. She was so perfectly in control of her body, and let herself go, losing herself in the moment. It had turned him on more than he liked to admit, yet he had done his best to hide it, his gruff voice the only indicator. He smiled, remembering her face, the look of passion and joy as she succumbed to the lust for battle like he had.

He shook himself out of that thought. There was no way it could work between either of them. She wanted him dead, and he wasn't ready to be tied down. He had also given his word to not lay a finger on her.

Mac continued to mull things over, switching his herbal tea for an ale, cradling the glass in his hands as he thought about how life had thrown him into a loop. He lost track of time, and the food on his plate. He also lost track of Zoe sitting at the table across from him.
 
Zoe was ushered from the group. She felt him gently guiding her and leading her to his home. Normally, she would have buked at his insolence, but she was mindful of the rules and she really didn't feel like trying to fight off a whole town, plus she was silently laughing at the look on their faces. She sat down at the table and watched him prepare supper. Her eyes crinkled at the corner as she realized he was making her another meal. She liked this being waited on, but knew better than to say anything unless he stop.

Zoe's head snapped up at his words. "The animal didn't really want to fight me. He was hungry looking for food and hoping to scare me away from an easy kill. We fought like cubs, but when the others showed up knew the game was over. It was all fun and games." Zoe shrugged her shoulders as if this was a normal occurance.

Zoe's eyes went wide seeing the long scar. She listened to the story and nodded her head. "Oh. Yes, that lion has a good heart and can tell ..." she faltered as she realized what Jace had said. She knew she was more animal than human. She had been accused of such before and had always liked the thought. Was Jace just as much an animal? Just as naturally as that thought was the thought of a mate. She quickly shook her head at that. No, Jace wasn't her mate. He couldn't be. He was ... a .. he didn't have ... he .. .just couldn't be.

Jace laid the bowl down in front of her and she began eating it. Like everything this man did it was exceptional. She was almost halfway done when she realized he wasn't shoveling food down his throat and was staring at her. No, not at her, but lost in another time. She found that she could sit and look at him without any interruptions and this intrigued her. She hated to admit he was a good looking man. His skin was touched with the sun's kiss and she liked how his hair spilled just past his ears. He had a rugged look that if she was on a quest she might have pursued him.

What the hell? Again that thought had crept upon her. It was his stupid talk of being an animal like her that her all in heat. Yes, that's it. She was in heat and just needed a cold shower and her anger to pull her back. She wanted to get up and look at more of the weapons. She wanted to polish her own weapon that she had used. She waved her hand in front of his face.

"I'm going to sleep in the other room tonight." It wasn't a question, but a statement.
 
Mac just nodded. He was too lost in his own thoughts. He realized what he was thinking, but it couldn't be right. There was no way it would ever work. He shook his head again. Zoe was never going to be interested in him. He was also never going to convince his father to let him have Zoe as a wife.

There was a rule against captives becoming wives, and only the current chief could grant a pardon for that law. He and his father argued enough that it wouldn't happen. He also knew that there would be huge waves if he married a royal from her house. The Diabolique rarely thought highly of outsiders. The Orzo clan was accepted because of their weapons.

Mac sighed and made his way down to his forge. There was no way he would be able to sleep with this much on his mind. Instead, he pulled his shirt off and pulled a thick bar of his special steel out and put it into the forge. He was determined to make a weapon he had heard about, but had never seen. It had a gentle slope to the blade, and was especially effective in battle.

Mac lost himself in the forge. Once the metal was heated, he pulled it out, quickly focused as his hammer fell, the strikes landing with power and pin-point accuracy. He slowly started to shape the metal, leaving it perfectly balanced. It would be a one-handed weapon, and he would make another to compliment it, yet for now, he knew it would need to be perfected if it were to work for him.

As the metal was slowly formed into the image he had, his thoughts slowly sorted themselves out. He realized that until Zoe showed any interest, he would not move on his interests. He just focused on making the sword, quenching and reheating it, making it stronger and lighter with each successive repeat.

The sword finally took shape, and Mac set it into a vice at his bench. He pulled out his row of files, then started to grind the edge, giving it a blade that would never lose its sharpness. His blades were renowned for this trait. It was why is weapons were so highly sought. He lost track of time as the edge slowly formed, then the sharpness finally reached its peak. He hadn't realized, but a wave had appeared in the metal, following the edge of the blade, and the curve.

Mac pulled the metal from the vice, and started to create a grip for it. He whipped the handle with wire, then pounded it into the steel, creating grooves for the wire to sink into. He then whipped cord around the handle, followed by a steel grip that wouldn't slip from his hand. He added the guard, and then set the weapon down, looking at it.

He sighed and took a step back, realizing how fatigued he was. He picked up the weapon, marveling at its lightness, and swung it. The weapon practically sang as it cut the air. He replaced one of his current weapons with this one, then made his way to his bed. He didn't even know the time as he fell into the bed, slowly sinking into sleep.
 
He did that weird thing again. He was still so lost that it seemed he hadn't realized she was there. He got up and left. Zoe watched him go and sighed. She cleaned up the dishes and went in search of the other room. It wasn't hard to find neither was any of the cleaning equipment. She quickly cleaned her weapon and then looked at some of the other instruments for killing. She could hear Jace banging away and knew he was lost in work. So that's what had captivated him and took him away from her.

Zoe frowned. That didn't sound right in her head. She knew what she meant and she quickly put that thought out of her mind as she looked at the weapons in the room. They were similiar but every one of them was different in a small way or some detail. They were glorious and she knew that she was looking at the artist who's weapon she would only touch. She hadn't realized it until now. Her people would go and buy these weapons and though there were other Masters at their crafts she was drawn to one merchant's in particular who's name she didn't know or care to know. It shocked her to realize this was the merchant's home. What had fate planned here?

Shocked, scared, and because she was scared angry Zoe made a makeshift bed and slept. She woke up early feeling dirty. She wanted a bath and after a little hunt she found a tub. A few hours later and she was relaxing in a hot tub of water in the middle of Jace's weapon's room. She found that she liked that. All the weapons around and she was naked in a tub of water. She found it actually relaxing and her hand idly played with her own weapon that was hanging on the outside of the tub.

She paused thinking she heard footsteps, but sighed. She still wasn't used to the sounds of this house. She couldn't distinguish shit. She sat back and relaxed tilting her head back further and sinker deeper until just her face and her hard nipples were poking from the water. Her ears were under water so she couldn't hear too well anyways. A sign she should have known meant she was comfortable in her surroundings. That didn't dawn on her as she just relaxed.
 
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