Desert Djinn (Closed for Apollo Wilde and LucianDevine)

Lucian studied Anat as she spoke, looking for some sign from her that this was some sort of joke, unlikely as it was. Despite his desires though, her face revealed nothing of the sort, and truthfully revealed nothing at all.

"Anat..." Lucian started, wishing he were brave enough to take a step forward just then. He knew better though. Nothing good would come of it right now.

"I didn't do what I did last night because I felt like you forced me to. I did it because I wanted to, and I know that at some point last night you wanted it too. Is that so wrong?"

Deep down, Lucian could understand why Anat wanted to do what she was doing. It did make sense. She was a warrior through and through, and he was definitely not something she felt she needed. In a way though, he felt that he was in fact something she needed. The reactions he'd gotten from her last night told him so, and he was willing to risk punishment to convince her so.

Of course he’d be stone-faced. She wouldn’t expect any less from him, really. And a part of her flared with pride. Here was a warrior. It was rare for her to admit it...especially in his case. Gods, he was making this so difficult. What would be the best way to put it? What could she say to him that would make it clear that...what was she even trying to say anymore?

“...Here is the deal, Lucian,” her voice was even. “I can tell that you are a very good pleasure slave. I will thank you for sharing your wares with me. But they are far too good for someone as unskilled as I.” For Anat, admitting that she wasn’t good, or second at anything, was a massive blow to her pride. But it was also her pride that kept her firmly believing that she, herself, had been a terrible pleasure slave. It was meant to be beneath her. She was meant to be a warrior. That was her fate.

“You will need someone that can appreciate your considerable talents, someone that understands the way things work between a pleasure slave and his mistress. I am not that person,” and she gave him the very faintest smile. Sorrow leaked into her eyes. “Thank you for...such an experience.” There was something to be said about his candor; it made it that much harder to imagine parting with him. But she needed to.

Lucian was surprised at Anat's words. He was particularly surprised by the admissions that came after her praise in his skills and what he'd done and shared with her. He knew well enough how proud she was, and how much it took for her to admit that she wasn't good at something, especially this. This was the kind of thing that came naturally to people like Lelia, a warrior that was certainly inferior to Anat.

"Is it really that bad to admit that you are unskilled in something that you are just new to?" Lucian asked honestly in a soft tone. "You are a warrior, a warrior that is used to being the best, because you trained and practiced to become so. Is pleasure any different? It is a skill that can be honed if the desire is there, a skill I would be honored to teach and share with you."

Lucian took a slow step forward, his blue eyes staring hard and strong into Anat's brown one. "Sure, there are other women who have more experience, but just because they have that experience doesn't mean they will appreciate it any more than you will. I can tell that there was something happened in your past that kept you from enjoying the full of what we shared last night, and I would be honored if you would let me help you work past it."

Lucian knew it was a stretch for him to ask Anat to keep him. Her mind seemed set on releasing him, but not he wanted to stay with her for more reasons than just repaying his life debt. He wanted to break down the barrier that she kept around herself, and help her become a true woman, warrior and all.

And then she smiled.

It was a sad smile, somewhat patronizing. The kind that would be given to a child that had to be told "No," while explaining why.

"..It has nothing to do with inexperience," she said gently, "but use. I cannot, and do not have use for a good pleasure slave. There are many women here that do. They would treat you better, perhaps sire heirs with you. Take you into battle if you prove your merit. It would be a good life, I think. And when it comes time for you to leave, it will be easier. I'm sure Lelia can find you an owner that would be pleased with you for a year or until you produce an heir. That will take the place of the life debt."

It really was just that simple, now that she was saying it out loud. He did need someone that was going to use him to his full abilities; someone that knew what they were doing with him. While he had brought her immense pleasure in that one night, it came with so much pain that she didn't think it was worth it. It couldn't be. And listen to him - he honestly thought that he was helping her! Presumptuous at best, fatal at worse. "And you best watch your tongue with me. One night's pleasuring does not absolve the fact that you are still a slave," and her words were hard, but without malice. She simply could not have him to forget his place. "Perhaps the desire is there," she added, "but, for someone who is worthy, and sees it not as a task, but as something that he does out of love."

Ah, that was it, wasn't it?

And even women like her could dream of something more. Lelia, of course, was nowhere near the warrior that Anat was, and never would be. But she had something that Anat envied - a large family, men who had long stopped being slaves and who loved her and treasured her. That, Anat felt, would always be right outside of her grasp. "And I thank you for showing me that as well."

It was something she had never outright said before. And the words were strange to her. But still, bloodied though her hands may have been, she did not see herself as being incapable of love - nor did she think that she should be denied it. If she got it or not was a different story. And even she, as dense as she could be, knew that it wasn't something that she could force. Or could be forced in return. "I am sure that Lelia will be able to find you a home quickly. You are so earnest; there will be a woman here, I am sure of it, that will be honored to accept you."

Lucian's head bowed as he listened to Anat speak. He should have known that she'd be stubborn to the very end. His head did lift though, when her tone turned hard and she reminded him of his place. In the end though, he could bow his head, shake it, and chuckle softly.

"Defiant to the end Anat." Lucian said softly as he made to walk past her. "We're more alike than you think. We're both proud warriors that always have to do things the hard way."

Lucian made it as far as the entrance of the tent before he stopped and turned his head back to face her.

"Maybe you'll realize one day that I am starting to like this place, really like this place, and wouldn't mind hanging around, even after my debt is paid."

Lucian bowed his head once more before leaving the tent and heading towards the spring. One way or another, he was going to need to get cleaned up for the day. He couldn't help but wonder what Anat was thinking though, and if she still planned on taking him back to Lelia. Sadly though, it was out of his control, and there wasn't much to be done about it except head to the hot spring and see what the rest of the day had in store for him.

“Honorable Anat,” she corrected him, with as much malice as one would scold a puppy. It was a gentle reminder now; solely because of the affection that she had for him. Anything more, any other time, and her reaction would have to be much crueler. But for now, for these last few moments that he belonged to her, then she could be kind with him. “Do not forget it.”

And when he left, her lips twisted to the side. She was a tad, no, very annoyed with him. “Presumptuous wretch,” she snarled, but again, without malice. Of course he was like her; felt that he had to get the last word in. If only he knew! The fact that he kept referring back to his debt undercut anything else that he could have said. It always came down to his debt. She started steadily at the closed tent flap, before she went to gather a few materials. Folding them into a bundle, she headed down to the spring with him.

Though the society was segregated, it wasn’t uncommon for men to bathe with women. Or rather, for women to bathe with their slaves and be bathed by them. Luckily enough, it was early enough in the morning to afford Lucian a bit of privacy. Privacy that would be disrupted by Anat’s arrival. Setting down the bundle in her arms, she undid it. It would be a fresh change of clothes for her and for him, and oils to rub into their skin to not only add sweet fragrance to them, but to help protect them from the sun. Unlike most slaves, she put more care into his clothing. She figured that his pale skin would mean that he would need to be protected.

She undid the sash of her robe and slipped within the cool ripples of the water, not saying an extra word to him. If she did, it would make it that much more difficult.

Lucian heard Anat's rebuttals to what he'd said, but he chose not to respond this time. He knew that nothing would come of it. So he didn't waste the time or the breath.

If Lucian was thankful for anything this morning, it was how early in the morning it actually was. Most of the camp was still asleep, and the spring was mostly deserted. He eagerly stripped off his loincloth and waded into the water with an audible sigh.

Lucian's privacy and peace was short-lived, though he was far from surprised. He didn't see Anat approach, but he did here when she waded into the water. He turned away from her in the water, didn't say anything, and wasn't surprised when she didn't say anything to him. He simply washed and rinsed himself as best he could before finally forcing himself to turn back towards her and the bundle she'd brought with her.

Despite the clear differences between the two of them and their opinions, Lucian was thankful for both Anat's knowledge of their surroundings, and the care that she took, even in the oils that gave to him, ensuring that he didn't burn nearly as badly as he could have. He simply wished that the two of them could see eye to eye on a few more issues, but he wasn't getting his hopes up on that happening any time soon. Until then, he'd just have to tread relatively carefully and go from there.

And now he was working on her pride. Part of her was enraged that he didn't acknowledge her when she entered. And the more she thought about it, the angrier she got. She wasn't prone to cruelty, but there was just something about him that was just...rubbing her in all the wrong places. If this is what it meant to have a slave, then she was definitely making the right choice in bringing him back to Lelia. Someone else could deal with his insolent nature.

As he approached her, she swiftly cut him off. Even in the waist deep water, she moved swiftly and quietly. Without a sound, she reached up and grasped his face in her hand, forcing him to look directly at her and into her eyes. She had never treated him this roughly before - she barely touched him when it wasn't necessary. That alone would be a fair indication of how annoyed she was. Her grip was firm, but gentle. She was trying hard not to hurt him, but he needed to be corrected.

"You will address me when I am in your presence. I will not warn you again." Now she was back to the Honorable Anat, the fierce woman who had fought for her position. True, no one had much ill to speak of her among the tribe; she was thought of as fair, if not at times too compassionate. And perhaps a little late in her consideration of bearing heirs; she wasn't getting any younger. Quiet as it was kept, the fact that she had claimed Lucian, some thought, was good. Perhaps she was finally settling down to consider someone to mate with.

"Your insolence would have gotten you a flogging anywhere else. Remember that," and she let go of his face, wading back away from him. Pulling herself from the pool, her skin glistened like dark silk before she began to rub oil into it.

Lucian saw Anat coming, but didn't actually expect that she would cut him off, let alone move to grab his chin and force him to meet her gaze. Despite that though, he didn't fight her. His blue gaze was steady and strong as he met her brown one.

"My apologies Honorable Anat." Lucian started in a deceptively calm tone. "I assumed that based on the topic of our previous conversation, you wouldn't want me to talk to you. So I chose not to."

Lucian took Anat's threat in stride. For it was certainly something he'd known, and expected for the most part. Despite the words they'd just exchanged, Lucian's blue gaze followed Anat's form as she waded to the edge of the pool and pulled her dark, silken, and beautiful body out of the water. He continued to watch her dripping form as she moved to the bundle she'd deposited onto the ground, and started to apply the oil that she preferred to cover her body with

With only a slight bit of hesitation, Lucian followed suit, wading to the end of the pool and stepped free of it and towards her. He let his shoulder brush past hers as he bent to scoop a bit of oil into first one palm and then another. He then dared to take one more risk and stepped up behind Anat, and, starting from her shoulders, worked on applying that same oil to her shoulders and back. His touch was more gentle than one would assume given the exchange of words the two of them had just had, but despite that, he wasn't a cruel person, and thus used a touch similar to the one he'd used to start all of the events of the previous night.

She'd thought that by being forceful, it would make her feel better. She wasn't going to deny the slight thrill that had coursed through her when he met her gaze. Such impertinence! That she could respect. Admire, no. Respect, yes. And she realized that she had no desire to break him. And "own" wasn't the right word, either. To imagine a man like that, bold, brave, to be at her side, to hold her, and treasure her....her gaze dropped to the gentle waves of the sand. It would never happen. That, she knew, was something that could not be forced.

"I may not wish for your conversation," she said cooly, "but you do need to address me. That is the most basic part of your current position." She didn't want to outright call him a slave; that felt cruel. And she didn't truly want him to hate her. Gods. What was she to do with him? She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she was startled to sense him behind her. That wasn't good. All the more reason to be rid of him; he fuddled her mind.

Her body tensed as he touched her. And now she was going to be stubborn. "I did not ask for your assistance," and she wiggled out of his grasp. To do him one over, she pulled a robe on, belting it loosely about her waist. There would be no real need for undergarments just yet - they were only really used when one was riding to prevent painful chaffing. But here, since she was just running a light errand, the robe would be fine. It was of a sheer white linen, the dark nipples enticing hints. It had long bell sleeves and was slit to her waist, allowing her legs free movement. The belt was of a woven blue and red material, perhaps wool. The robe she had brought for him was of a deep red, but just as light to allow him some respite from the burning heat.

Again, she turned to face him, this time, not feeling the need to correct him, though part of her wanted to, just, perhaps, to have the excuse of touching his face again, making him realize who was the only really in power. He didn't seem to know or care. "Focus on dressing yourself; Lelia awaits."

Lucian didn't expect Anat to wriggle out of his grasp, and he found himself wanting to tighten his hold on her shoulders, forcing her to remain where he wanted her. Despite that desire though, he forced himself to let her go, and even forced his eyes to follow her as she moved to don a white linen robe, a robe that left very little to the imagination. The sight of her dark nipples through the fabric was an enticing one to be sure.

"And what do you want to happen today Honorable Anat, what do you truly want to happen?"

Lucian asked, looking up at her as he applied the oil the oil she'd brought for him. Despite the fact that he knew Lelia was waiting, Lucian took his time with the task, ensuring that he got as much of himself as he could. He didn't want to burn any more than she wanted him to, thankfully enough.

Even after he was done oiling up his body and donning the deep red robe she'd brought for him, Lucian stood strong, not wanting to move until Anat was honest with him about what she truly wanted to happen today.

"What I want to have happen today is for Lelia to take you willingly and find you a good mistress." It was really that simple. She turned and faced him, raising a dark brow. What was he fishing at? He had to have something on his mind.

"And you; why do you keep asking? You should be pleased; I am trying to get you to someone that will be proud to use your body. Perhaps they will continue to train you as a warrior. You will be a fine catch, all the more so for belonging to me for as long as you have. There is no shame in that. I suspect someone will breed you here in the next few weeks."

Her tone was as easy as if she was talking about the weather. After all, once he was in Lelia's hands, he would no longer be her concern. But still, as she watched him dress, watched his lithe body vanish under the loose folds of his robe, she fought to suppress a sigh. He was truly beautiful...and she had only the smallest taste. She looked up at him again, and her dark brown eyes were confused. "There is no place for you at my side while there is peace. Perhaps I will start a war for you to repay your debt?"

Lucian listened to Anat speak, and as he did so, he couldn't help but drop his gaze and chuckle. It would have been so obvious to so many other people, man and woman alike, but it seemed like he was going to have to spell this out for Anat.

"You really don't get it do you A...Honorable Anat?" Lucian started with only the slightest bit of irritation in this voice. "You don't get what I've been feeling for a while, and what I've been trying to convince you of both last night and today alike. I don't care about your lack of experience in some matters, and I don't want somebody else. I want you for more reasons than just the debt I owe. I want to stay with you, because we are more compatible than I would be with any other woman here. We're proud warriors you and I, too proud for our own good. It's more than that though. I felt a connection with you last night, a connection that I haven't felt with any other woman I've been with, and truthfully don't want to feel with anybody else. Sure, I'd like to share another night with you like the one we shared last night, but I need you to know that that isn't the only reason I want to stay with you."

Lucian spoke so much and so fast that he was practically breathless when he was finished, but he didn't care. He'd told Anat what he truly wanted, and he'd done it as completely and honestly as he knew how. He just hoped he'd finally been able to hammer the point through her thick skull.

She laughed.

It was an odd, low chuckle, like the distant rumble of thunder. “You must be desperate to think that such rot would keep me from giving you to Lelia! It has already been decided. And what do you know of women, let alone of the other women that are here? Perhaps it has finally gotten through to you that my title is not just a pretty word tacked onto my name! We have barely spoken since you have come to my tent, and you think that one night’s worth of pleasure earns you the right?” And with each word, she paced closer and closer to him, once more in front of him.

Grasping his face in her hand again, her eyes bore into his. “You will listen to me well, Lucian. It is not about what you want, but it is about what I tell you what you deserve. You must think me a fool to be easily bought by sweet words with nothing behind them. It is not about my lack of experience; I am far better versed in the carnal arts than you will ever know. You have made it well known that you have a debt to me and wish to repay it.” She let go of him, her fingers dropping from the sides of his face with a sense of disgust. “We will go to Lelia and you will be her property. There is nothing more to say on the matter. It would do you well to remember that.”

The more Anat spoke, the angrier Lucian found himself becoming, especially with the way she advanced on him with every phrase that left her mouth. He desperately wanted to slap away the hand that went to grip his face, but he endured it, as well as Anat's words once more.

"And what if I told you that it didn't sound like I was the one being desperate Anat?" Lucian fired back, not backing down from Anat one bit. "What if I told you that I thought you were the one being desperate, because for the first time in your life you felt something for somebody last night, and it scared you, scared you, Honorable Anat enough to push that person away at all cost? You might be right when you say that it doesn't matter what I want, but instead what you want. The problem is, that the thing you want is the very thing that scares you. I know, because I was there last night, I was with you, and you were with me every step of the way last night, body and soul, right until you realized what you were feeling and fled, fled like a coward."

Lucian's blue eyes burned with passion while he spoke, even though he knew he was asking for punishment, especially since he was doing it in such a public place, and in a tone that was likely going to wake the majority of the camp, but he didn't care. He was going to make himself heard and understood, no matter what he had to endure to make it happen.

"Yeah, I called you a coward. You've fought your way through everything else, fought your way up to Honorable Anat just to run away now, and my question to you is why. What is it that you're so damned afraid of? Is it this?"

As he finished speaking, Lucian closed the small distance between them with a single fluid step. One arm slipped around Anat's body, pulling her closer as his other hand fisted in her hair, pulling her lips to his with a ferocity that he'd never displayed before. He kissed her hard and passionately, trying to show her in a way that she could understand what he'd felt last night, and what he hoped she'd felt too, because he knew that if he was wrong in this, he was dead for sure.

Before she could chastise him, his mouth was on hers. Only the whisper of a gasp had the time to slip her lips.

Her hands, originally at her side, flexed. Her fingers curled and uncurled, undecided if she was to make a fist or to keep calm. It wasn’t that she couldn’t break his grasp; if she wanted, she could have him on the ground, curled in pain. It was more that she found herself unable to. To say that his outburst was a shock would be a mild understatement. She had never been around such an assertive male - regardless of his position. And he had to have known the risk that he was taking. It would be nothing for her to break free and slay him.

But...

Her lips parted. And in her clumsy way, her tongue sought his. It was hard for her to match his fervor, and before long, she shuddered in his grasp. Finally, she pushed him away, none too gently.

Her eyes were furious - caught between hot shame, desire, and confusion. She hastily made note of their surroundings; she could hear the rest of the villagers stirring, but so far, no one had looked into the noise. True, it was rare to hear a slave’s outburst, but it was to be expected. Some men simply took longer to obey. It would be shameful for someone of her status to punish him in broad daylight, and her dark skin was flushed. Deftly, she removed her belt. Closing the gap between them, she looped it around his neck and closed the noose. She tugged on it, experimentally, and then, pulled on it firmly.

“You will not shame me in front of anyone in this village,” her voice was an angry hiss, quiet and deadly. And with good reason; she couldn’t recall being this angry in a very long time. Not just angry - but embarrassed, confused....and something that she’d never admit to him, aroused. His insolence, while annoying, was...something that worked on her like fabled aphrodisiacs. And there had to be something behind that last kiss; he must’ve known that it could have easily cost him his life.

She was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Tugging him along, not too kindly, she brought him back to the tent. Her pace was fast and silent against the sand, careful not to draw too much attention to her as the village began to slowly awake. Slipping back into the warm confines of her tent, she waited a few brief moments for her eyes to adjust. The sunlight had not reached the point of burning outside, and the air inside of her tent was cool and fragrant from the night before. Her eyes trailed down to the damp spot on her bedroll, and then back to him.

She sat down on the edge of her bed, still holding firm to the end of the belt in her hand. Brazenly, she slowly spread her legs, pulling the end of his makeshift leash so that he would kneel before her. Her dark brown eyes focused on him, her face didn’t betray what she was thinking, nor showed a trace of anger. “Stubborn to the last, Lucian.”

Anat's initial reaction left Lucian unsure of whether he'd chosen a wise course of action or not. When her lips parted though, and he felt her tongue dipping between his lips, searching for his, albeit a bit clumsily, he relaxed a bit. The fact that he wasn't dead already was definitely a good sign.

Lucian's relaxed posture made it easy for Anat to push him away, and the force with which she used told him of her feelings, even before he saw her eyes. The anger there was obvious enough, but so was the flush of her cheeks. He knew there was more than just anger inside her, but he didn't dare act any further on it, not out where they could be seen by anybody that looked out.

The fact that Lucian wasn't dead already told him that it was definitely smarted not to fight Anat when she removed her belt and looped it around his neck. The first pull she gave was clearly a test one, and it also seemed to indicate what she wanted, because the next pull that came was a firm and confident one.

Anat's voice, when it came, was quiet, but the volume did little to mask the anger in the threat. The steady pace with which she also dragged him through the camp by the belt around his neck also did little to mask what she was feeling.

The pair of them entering the tent and getting out of the heat should have been relieving, but Lucian didn't dare relax, whether or not he intended to put up a fight. Anat lingered in the entrance of the tent, and Lucian watched her gaze, watching it move to her bedroll and then back to him.

Anat's movements were as swift as before as she moved to her bedroll and seated herself at the edge of it, facing him. He couldn't help but notice the way she slowly parted her legs before pulling down on the leash, forcing him to his knees.

Lucian's gaze moved first to those parted legs, but Anat's words caused his gaze to lift to hers once more. This time though, there was nothing in her eyes, not even anger. He swallowed hard as he considered his words carefully, not wanting to anger her any more than he already had.

"Actions speak louder than words Honorable Anat..." Lucian started, knowing that his eyes would reflect the truth of his words. "...And it was the only way to get my point across in a way you'd recognize."

Lucian swallowed hard one last time before speaking once more, knowing that he couldn't take back what he was about to say once it was out.

"I am yours Honorable Anat, yours to do with as you wish." With his last words out there, out there to be interpreted however Anat wanted, Lucian had no other choice but to remain there, on his knees with Anat's belt around his neck, waiting for her to make the next move, whatever it was.

She lazily adjusted herself on the edge of her bed. Her legs were still spread, her thighs dark and shining faintly with oil. Smooth and unbroken, he could see the lines of muscle through her thighs, drawing his eyes further to the nest of curls that sat between her legs. With her legs spread so openly, the sheer linen of her dress did little to hide that part of her from him. Her curls patterned the fabric, lending a rough texture to it.

Now, within the safety of her tent, did she feel that she could speak freely."You have risked much in saying what you have. I suppose I am also honor-bound to answer you fairly," she kept her legs open. Was she hinting at something? Maybe. Her grip on the makeshift leash remained firm. There was something about it that she enjoyed. Since they first left together, the edges of her full lips curved upwards.

"What shall I do with you? The moment I grow fond of you, you will leave me." She was being honest - not that it surprised her. Anat had a reputation for honesty. What did surprise her was that she was finally talking to him like he was on the same level as she was. And perhaps, in a sense, he was. He had not experienced the same torments as she had as a slave; she had made note never to treat him in any fashion that was similar to her own. "You have a brave heart, if not misguided. I am..." How did she really feel about him? She felt that he cared for her - but to what extent? How could she really trust him?

Slowly, a sound bubbled from her chest. It would take him some time to figure out that she was indeed laughing. "Well, my knight, if you dare to tell my secrets, expose my weakness, I will just have to kill you." There was safety in that! If, at any time, he had displeased her, she could kill him. Was it that simple?

And when she looked down into his clear blue eyes, she knew the answer to that was no. She could no more harm him than kill her own horse. He had come to mean that much to her. She pulled him closer to her, softly tugging him so that his shoulders touched her thighs, so that he was seated between her legs.

"You are the biggest conundrum in my life, Lucian. Do you appreciate that?"

As the pair sat like that, with Anat periodically adjusting her position, Lucian found it difficult to keep his gaze locked with hers. Every time she shifted, even slightly, his gaze flicked down to her spread legs. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder if it was a signal of some kind, a signal that dared him to look, or perhaps touch?

Anat's voice though, when it finally came, brought his gaze back up to meet hers once more. The firm grip she kept on his makeshift leash worried him some, but only until he saw the edges of her mouth tilt slightly upwards, the beginnings of a smile.

Lucian wanted to speak up when Anat mentioned that he would leave her the moment she became fond of him, but he knew there was more on her mind than that, and when her next statement just sort of trailed off, he knew that she had still more to say, so he remained there, kneeling and silent, letting her sort through the thoughts in her own head until he was sure that she was done.

A sound caught Lucian's attention as he waited. It was a sound that he hadn't yet heard, despite all the time he'd been here, and it took him a fair bit of time before he realized that it was actually the sound of Anat laughing. When his gaze lifted to hers once more, there was a curious look in his light blue eyes. In the end, he chuckled along with her, even as she joked about killing him. He knew well enough that he wasn't going to reveal any of her secrets or weaknesses to anybody, so he didn't think he had too much to fear on that front.

Anat's final words came with two things, a question, and a pull of his leash, albeit a softer one than those that had brought him to her tent and to his knees. This pull didn't end until he was seated between her spread legs with his shoulders touching the leg on either side of him.

Lucian found himself torn on how to proceed. Anat's gestures read like signals to him, but he found himself torn on what exactly to do with them. There was only one thing to do in the end though, and that was to trust his instincts.

"Yes Anat, I understand and respect the challenges that have been introduced into your life because of my presence."Lucian started as he lifted his hands to brush his fingers tips over each of her knees. "As long as we're being honest though, there is something you should know. If I wanted to be gone, I would have been gone by now. I do tend to the horses after all, and with just children around me all day, it wouldn't be hard for me to procure some supplies and be escape."

Lucian's gaze lifted from his hands as his fingertips traced slowly from Anat's knees to the tops of her thighs. "I wasn't lying though when I said I was growing fond of this place, and one of the big reasons for that is...you. You had no reason to take me in, or even treat me as nicely as you have, yet you did. You treated me like more than a prisoner or slave despite the customs of your people."

As he spoke, Lucian's gaze dropped once more to his fingers, fingers that had finished their slow trace of the tops of Anat's thighs, and now dipped to trace along the insides of her thighs, moving back towards her knees.

"Then, last night, despite the battle that I knew you were fighting in your own head, you let me share something with you, something that I don't share with just anybody. It's for that reason that I could never be a proper pleasure slave and why I had to take the chance that i did today. I would die before I was forced to do what I did with you last night with somebody I didn't want to...somebody I didn't care about."

Lucian's gaze lifted to meet Anat's once more, and as it did so, the light tracing of his fingertips along her thighs slowly transformed to a gentle massaging and kneading of her inner thighs. He hoped that she could see in his eyes, and read from his actions that he was telling the truth.

“You might be surprised at the ferocity of the children that you work with.” No child was designated to a task that they could not perform or protect – and despite the “low” station of tending the horses that many cultures had, for her tribe, it was an honor. One of the big steps of being recognized as a budding warrior was to have a horse of their own. And she had kept in careful contact with the children and made sure that Lucian’s horse, that beautiful white stallion, would be difficult to get to. “Assuming that you could have just taken any horse, it would take you days to break it. And by that time,” she leaned back, gently adjusting her legs in his grasp, “I would have not only caught up with you, but have subjected you to one of the most trying punishments that my people have to offer. So, no, Lucian, I was not worried that you would escape that way.”

Logically, at least.

She knew that it was a possibility, even if it wasn’t what would be called a “successful” one by any means. “I would not have been surprised if you found my company that abhorrent.” Her voice grew thoughtful and her gaze distant. Through the rich colors of the side of her tent, she pulled together the threads of her past. “I have once been a slave, though nowhere near treated as well as you. I know what it is to long for freedom and have it be denied. Here, I will show you,” and she leaned forward. Her deft fingers worked the belt from his neck, and she let it drop to the ground. Standing, she let the robe slip from her body. Across the left side of her neck was the slightly raised flesh of a deep brand mark. It wasn't noticeable from a distance, and given the nature of their activities the night before, it would have only been natural for him to overlook it.

“It has only been through the care of the doctors there and here that I did not catch my fever of this and die the day it happened. I told myself that I would allow no such mark to be placed on ‘slaves’ here.” The scar, though faint, showed the markings of once having been deep and brutal, lines of open weeping flesh that would have taken months to heal. "I am here because of kindness, and I have to do the same. Though it may seem contrary to what I do now. I could not leave you to die. I watched you; have watched you. Through your infuriating and insufferable pride, to the care that you speak with the children, to the way your body moves. You are a fine man; even I can recognize that. To have let you die, there, and not on a battlefield seemed a terrible waste."

She stepped out of the robe now, her back still to him. “When I made my way here, I knew nothing other than brutality. I was lucky, then. I suppose it was really both luck and the will of the Gods. And now you are here, much in the same place that I was, but with the added benefit of having been a warrior before and now, you are tied to me. So now that you are here, and are at my command, what would you do, what would you make of your life? Have you no one that would miss you? How did you come to be in that village - did you even want to be a warrior?"

Today would be different, she had decided. She lay back down on her bedroll, rather leisurely, enjoying the lush fabrics on her bared skin. But she was still torn; she had duties to oversee, a presence to maintain. Though she may wish to lay abed, she knew that she could not, unless…No; she’d wait until he answered her. She wanted the truth. “I remember crying for a family that would never come,” she said, nearly so soft that he could not hear her. “But now I am here, and have a family that cares for me more, for they brought me up from nothing. I would not deprive you from those who love you, no matter what loss it was to me.”

And there it was – beneath all of the haughty, cold and calculating demeanor, there was her heart. “You have given me a great gift, Lucian, and I merely wish to do the same. Surely you would understand the concept of a debt,” and she smiled, playfully, from under her arm that was stretched over her forehead.

Anat's words weren't exactly what Lucian was expecting to here next, but he continued to hold her gaze, even as she adjusted her legs as he continued his gentle massage of them.

Lucian couldn't help the chuckle that slipped from him when Anat spoke of what he might think of her company. She was honest for sure, of that much there could be no doubt. Then again though, that was something about her that Lucian liked. He didn't have to guess with her. She spoke her mind, giving him more to work with than most of the other women he'd been with in the past.

Lucian's light blue gaze continued to watch Anat as she started to talk about her past, a subject she'd kept from him earlier. When she spoke of wanting to show him something though, and released the belt from around his neck, he moved slowly backwards, remaining on his knees as he gave her room to stand up. He did eventually have to stand when Anat let the robe slip from her body. He saw what she was talking about, something he was surprised he'd missed before, despite what the pair of them had been doing.

Even as Anat continued to speak, Lucian felt the desire to lift his hand to touch the branded flesh. No sooner did that desire enter his mind though, than Anat was moving once more, stepping out of the robe that had pooled around her feet. He remained silent as she questioned him, his gaze still watching her body, especially the muscles that bunched beneath the flesh as she moved.

Only when Anat was finally settled on her back, looking up at him from a pose that was completely and utterly seductive did Lucian finally speak. He'd taken his time while she spoke to consider her words, and in what order he wanted to answer her.

"I am well aware of how slaves are treated in most cultures, and I know I've been a handful Anat." Lucian began calmly. "Believe me when I say that I am truly grateful for your mercy and generosity Anat."

After Lucian spoke, he moved towards the bed and sat beside Anat's naked form.

"I do have a family, but they won't be looking for me. I chose a different path from them a long time ago, when I was still just a boy."

"My parents owned a weapon shop, but weren't particularly good with them. One night, a man came to rob the store. We lived above it, and my father heard him. Despite his ignorance, my father did try to fight the man off. The intruder was too much for him though, and my father was soon on the floor begging for his life. The man advanced on him, but wasn't smart enough to keep an eye on the staircase. I had come down to investigate, and when I saw the man looming over my father, his intentions clear, I picked up a sword that I could barely hold steady, snuck up behind him and stabbed him in the back."

Lucian's blue gaze lowered as he spoke of the act, both honorable in it's intention, and dishonorable in it's execution. "The man was alive when he hit the floor, but before I could stop myself, I swung at him again, killing him."

A short silence followed Lucian's words, but when his gaze lifted once more, it was strong and proud once more.

"After that night, my parents hired the best tutors for me and had me trained to be a warrior and a knight. When I came of age, I sword an oath, not to any god or lord though, but to the people. I vowed to protect them, much like I had my father that night. It was that vow that eventually brought me to the village you attacked the day we met. I was there to investigate the attacks and try to put a stop to them. The rest, as they say..." Lucian continued with a soft chuckle." is history."

She lazily rolled over, eyeing his thighs. “You do have splendidly beautiful thighs,” she murmured. Even though their relationship had been…strained (to put it mildly), she hoped, somewhere, that he noticed that she looked at him with more than a little favor. She was still mortified by her crying jag the night before, and had resolved herself to maintain some of that warrior spirit that she’d fought so hard to cultivate. It simply wouldn’t do for her to be overly demonstrative. And Lelia’s pale sister, Michi, had said that compliments were to be given sparingly to men, lest their egos grow too large.

“Men are silly creatures,” she’d said. “They strut about thinking that they are gods because of that little flap of flesh between their legs. They will take your sweet words and lord them over you. Never be gentle with them.” Wryly, Anat thought that Michi had a point. Her long stint as a slave had shown her much of the ways of men. Of course, Lelia disagreed – and had her six loving men to show for it, while Michi only had four. But the devotion between the men never seemed to change. Maybe it was a mix of both that kept a slave happy?

With the way he sat in front of her, it was tempting to want to put her head on his lap. But she didn’t. That would be a little too...forward. And while she was growing comfortable with him, and had enjoyed hearing his story, she was reluctant to move things any further. One day, perhaps...but...he was still her property. She couldn’t run the risk of his newfound ‘freedom’ going to his head. Part of her was still mistrustful of him. And the part that wanted to convince her otherwise still had to listen to logic – but it didn’t hurt any less. Strange. She had too much to lose by trusting a slave. The tribe was full of stories of slaves that manipulated a master’s love.

The mats beneath her were delightfully cool, the air within the tent still faintly redolent of sex and incense, of sweet oils and body odor. She did not know what else to say to him, the specter of his brilliant blue eyes on her shoulders like a shawl. And then it hit her. She sat up, looking at him impishly. “And are you sure that no one would come looking for you?”

Before he could answer, the distant sound of a horn caught her attention. She tensed, instinctively. Waited. A second blast of the horn, and she was up, throwing the robe loosely around her body. Knotting her belt deftly at her waist, she slipped on her sandals and wrapped her face in the traditional dark blue wrap in a matter of moments. Though her robe was of a thin white linen, sheer, she quickly threw on flexible leather armor. It wouldn’t be too effective against close strikes, or even a careful archer, but it was better than nothing.

As she was lacing it up on her sides, she stopped, looking at Lucian. Just as quickly, she removed it and handed to him. “Put this on,” and gone was the softness in her voice. She was authoritarian, confident. “I do not have the time to retrieve your armor.” Softer, and with the hint of a smile in her voice, she added, “If you wish now to escape, I will be too busy to come after you.” Of course she had to throw it back at him. What liberty could he find here, with her? Surely, someone would come looking for him. He was a knight, after all.

She grabbed her ornate halberd from against the edge of the tent. She kept it pristinely polished and sharpened, and if it were any other circumstances, it would look all the world as a decorative piece for the care instilled into it. Leaves curved around the edge of the axe, and continuing with the floral theme, the topping knife seemed to spring from a delicately carved lotus blossom. At first blush, it did look a little ridiculous. A little too feminine and too decorative to actually work. But as Lucian would know, it became deadly in her hands. She grabbed her scimitar as well, strapping it almost carelessly to her waist. Though she prepared hurriedly, she was thorough, and everything in her tent was laid out to facilitate her.

Dashing outside, she squinted momentarily against the white glare of the rising sun. An attack this time of day, crossing the desert, was an act of sheer desperation. Someone needed supplies, and rather than rely on the hospitable ways of the desert nomad, decided that attacking a slumbering village would be better.

“Where are they coming from?” Anat said, shielding her eyes against the glare of the sun. She was looking east-ward, towards the village she had attacked months prior, to the edge of the city. After all, they had recently raided the village - and now they had Lucian. A hot tongue of rage twisted her guts. And she had trusted him! Of course they’d send someone after him. Well, he would be dealt with later. She couldn’t allow her anger to distract her, not now.

“West, Honorable Anat,” said an older woman, her dark blonde hair cropped boyishly short. She held a long staff in her taped knuckles. Her arms were thickly muscled, and rippled as a draft horse.

Perhaps they thought that they would target the small village outside of the town, then gear up for a larger attack - but Anat's village was still far from the town. Or perhaps they had heard of this village, and wanted to prove their might. It could really be a myriad of things; Anat couldn’t overlook any of the possibilities. The fact was, they went unchallenged for many moons, and then, as if brought in by an ill wind, all of the surrounding ‘warrior’ tribes would try to attack. It was the worse when she had first gotten her title – everyone wanted to prove that she wasn’t worthy; that under her leadership, the women warriors, the desert djin, would finally become nothing more than a horrific fairy tale to be whispered around flickering camp fires. If they were coming from the West, she thought, it could be a number of groups. But she would have to hold off on making any more assumptions until she had captured one.

“Ruka,” she said, her voice loud and solid, “Gather the archers to protect the edge of the village, and get the horse riders on their mounts to back them up. I will be behind the first line of archers. Get the nursemaids to protect the children.”


Nodding, the blonde dashed off. It was amazing, really - within the short time from the original horn blast, the women of the village had organized, and stood outside of their various tents, weapons in hand. Some were dashing towards the horses, others were standing prepared, long bows drawn. Unlike the idea that most had of leaders charging into battle, Anat picked carefully when she would need to do that. If they were attacking, she would – but when they were attacked, she was a part of the final line of defense, a line that was unbroken and fearsome. The idea was that most people thought that as they fought further in, the lines would grow weaker. In truth, the lines only grew stronger at the village. Many found themselves overwhelmed, and never got to where they could fight Anat personally.

And if the women were not fearsome enough, the men that dotted the dashing figures were no less armed to the teeth. Anat dashed among them, giving orders and directing the flow of warriors. It seemed disorganized; a great mass of people. But they parted, divided to where she instructed them to go. And, true to the tribe’s hierarchy, the men largely moved to the outskirts of the village, behind the rapidly preparing archers. It was still a truth that, though loved, the men were expendable. The true skill lay with the women. And, in a strange sense of irony, that was no different from any other war, any other battle where young men were eagerly turned into knights.

Lelia came to Anat’s side, battle ready with her short knives and sword. “It could be the V’itan,” she said, her normally cheerful face set severely.

"Could be,” replied Anat, her hands steady on her halberd. It was long range – perhaps even unwieldy, depending on how the fight would go. Not that Anat stayed in one place for long. Her speed on foot was part of why they were called ‘djinn’ – she seemed to appear and disappear at will, leaving death in her wake. “I’ll leave it to you to catch one or two that you find fitting.”

And though Lelia couldn’t see Anat’s face, she could tell by the creasing at the corners of her eyes that she was smiling.

“Perhaps!” Lelia grinned, as she pulled her own wrap over the lower half of her face. “If I see one to rival Lucian, I will make sure that you get him first. Only the finest for my Honorable lady!”

Anat's compliment prompted a smile and a soft chuckle from Lucian. "Heh, believe it or not, I used to run every day to stay in shape. Taking care of the horses isn't exactly the same as running, but it's better than nothing.."

Lucian held Anat's gaze as they talked, even as she sat up in a single sudden motion and asked him once more if anybody was coming for him. He chuckled once more, bowing his head as he did. Just as he opened his mouth to respond though, something seemed to catch Anat's attention, distracting her attention from him. He watched as she tensed up, and a couple seconds later he heard the sound of a horn, something that she must have heard the first time.

No sooner did he hear the horn, than Anat was already acting up on it. There wasn't much for him to do but watch as she slid a robe over her body, knotted a belt around her waist, slid on a pair of sandals, and wrapped her face in the same wrap that he'd seen her and the others wear when they'd attacked the village.

Lucian was still just sitting on Anat's bed as she slid on some leather armor and started the process of strapping it in place. What happened next though, caught him completely off guard. She slipped out of the armor as quickly as she'd put it on and passed it to him. That action, along with her words spoke volumes. He knew how suspicious this looked, but she still cared about his well-being, or at least had enough care to fake it. He moved to stand and took the armor from her.

The words that came with Anat handing him the armor cut deeper than Lucian wanted them to. He had hoped that after all this time she would have learned to trust him by now.

Though he didn't actually think that Anat would trust him enough to let him fight, he was still touched that she wanted to make sure that he wouldn't be a sitting duck if he were attacked.

Even as Lucian slid out of his robe, pulled on one of his pairs of shorts, strapped on the leather armor and slid on a pair of sandals, his gaze still lingered on Anat, watching her as she picked up her weapons and strapped them in place on her lithe form.

Lucian moved towards the opening of the tent as Anat rushed out. He knew well enough that not much would be expected from him, but he still wanted to know what to expect and what direction the threat would be coming from. He remained inside the tent and listed to the assessment from the women Anat was talking to. When the small group broke up it left Lucian free to exit the tent. He squinted at the sudden brightness outside and gladly took a few seconds to let his eyes adjust. He knew well enough that no good would come to rushing into anything half blind.

Once his eyes had finally adjusted, Lucian started to walk, heading across the camp to where he knew the weapon rack by the training ring, and his katana, would be waiting for him. Even as he moved through the camp, it was a flourish of movement. The women were rushing here and there, their wraps wrapped securely over their faces. He was thankful that nobody challenged him as he moved through the camp, not even when he reached the rack, and his own personal prize. It had been more than a month since he'd last held his katana, and he was truly glad to have it back in his hands. Even after he finally had his weapon of choice though, Lucian wasn't done. He knew that it wasn't wise to just have one weapon when you didn't know what to expect. So he also pulled on a weapon belt, and strapped a pair of scimitars to his waist along with his katana. He would also have put a dagger in each of his boots, if he'd had them but sadly, such was not the case.

When Lucian was finally as ready as he was going to get, he headed back towards Anat's tent. He still wasn't challenged by anybody, and he was thankful for that. He didn't want to have to explain himself or risk being restrained during a battle.

Just as Lucian reached the tent though, another horn sounded from the edge of camp, this time from the east side. He swallowed hard as he looked around, wondering what protocols he was expected to follow. In the end though, he decided to head in that direction. It couldn't hurt to at least check out the situation before he made a decision about what he was supposed to or expected to do.

Short, shaggy little ponies slowly came over the high ridge of sand to the west of the village. It wouldn’t take a skilled eye to know that the beasts were exhausted; their heads were held low, the riders nearly limp bundles of cloth atop small saddles. As soon as they were in range, as soon as they allowed themselves one long, last hard desperate push, the archers fired. As the ponies wearily galloped forward, their riders dropped, flecked with the long plumed tails of the arrows.

Anat paced forward from the inner circle of the village; she could tell at this point that the invaders would never get that far. Before long, she pushed to the front of all of the other women, her halberd posed in hand. Despite her title and her position, she blended in easily among the women; there was nothing in their dress to tell one from the other. Here, the only differences were in height, weapons, and skin color. Close to her ear, she could hear the soft voice of Lelia.

“This is pathetic,” she sighed. “There’s not going to be a single one of this bunch that’s going to be worth keeping. And I wanted to make a gift of the finest one to you. How is the blonde working out for you, by the way?” ‘Pathetic’ truly was the right word; these invaders had tired their horses, didn’t have archers – and were nearly exhausted by the hot sun. It wasn’t so much as a battle as a whole-sale slaughter. Little more than half of the men were decimated by the archers, and lay still in the sand where they fell. The rest spilled forward, leaping nimbly off their horses, blades shining in the light. A dull roar collectively rose from them, buffeted by the long swirls of their mud-colored robes.

Anat resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she lightly nudged Lelia in her generous side with the blunt butt of her halberd. “Now is not the time, Lelia.” But with the invaders dropping like flies under the hail of arrows, it was clear that the women wouldn’t have to be as much on their guard as she would have liked. Still, it wouldn’t do to have such a glib attitude.

“My apologies, Honorable Anat.”

“Besides, if you want one, go and get one. It looks like we might have a few that might break the lines of the archers,” Anat added, before taking to her heels. She had deliberately avoided answering Lelia’s question about Lucian: the simple truth of that matter was that Anat was still attempting to formulate her opinion about the man – he seemed honest enough, but there was no trusting a slave. As a blade swung near her face, she almost carelessly parried with the axe head of her halberd, before deftly kicking her attacker in the stomach to knock him off balance, and then to finish him with a graceful downward swing of her weapon.

As scarlet blossomed across her sheer robe, she turned to face the next enemy. These weren’t the Vi'tan. The Vi'tan would have been worth getting out of bed for. In the midst of the whole-sale slaughter, she was still observant as always. There was no unifying series of tattoos or garb on any of these men. They spoke hurriedly; frightened. Woefully underprepared. Arrogance gave way to the reek of urine and the salt of blood.

Hardly a test of her skills.

Anat wove easily in-between the few men that still managed to charge forward, even in the face of overwhelming odds. That, at least, she could respect. In the midst of severed limbs and the shrieks of the fatally wounded, she happened to turn to face the east, shielding her eyes. Wavering in the heat, she could make out the lines of fast approaching men - not enough to cause concern. The east side was protected well enough. She had to be seen on the front line.

But, like most things, it was over before she felt it had truly begun. It did not take her long to realize that she was surrounded by a score of dead and dying men - the other women were picking through, looking for anything that could be of use, or momentos, or spoils. She kicked over a prone man in front of her, an arrow embedded in his throat. The fool. His face was hardly covered against the harshness of the elements. His features were nondescript; he didn't look like any of the outlying tribal members that she was familiar with.

"Honorable Anat!" The voice came from behind her.

"Mm?" She turned. It was a younger woman, barely out of her teens. Her skin was milk white, and her almond eyes a dark brown. Jet black hair hung down to her waist.

"Lady Lelia has caught one - the rest have all been killed. Weak," and her voice was full of contempt. "I do not know why they even bothered."

"Your guess is as good as mine, Rei," sighed Anat. "But perhaps the one that Lelia captured will be of some use. These men clearly did not know what they were up against. And it troubles me - because perhaps that is why they were sent."

Rei stood back, a mix of awe and respect in her eyes. She bowed, and held out her arms to indicate where Lelia had gone to. "My Honorable Anat," she said, softly.

"This is going to cause quite the stink if left out too long." Anat sighed. The logistics of battle. "Send the men to clean this up - have them load the bodies onto the horses and give these men a burial under the sky. Far from here - we do not want to run the risk of polluting our wells."

"Yes, Honorable Anat."
____________

"My, he fought like a wild cat! He's got youth on him," said Lelia, eagerly, as she lead Anat through the camp. "I had to tie him to a post in the old storage tent for him to feel like he was really in trouble."

"Well, he is," said Anat dryly. "He was a part of a raid that tried to kill us. I would say that that constitutes being in trouble, yes."

"Hm! Well, fair enough. Tell me, have you seen or heard from your Lucian in all of this?"

"I have not." Her voice warned Lelia to drop it.

"Perhaps you should...I have heard many a splendid thing about him..."

Though he wasn't entirely sure what or who he expected to see, the sight of the raggedy group that was coming towards the camp was certainly none of the possibilities that had crossed Lucian's mind.

He'd expected some sort of army or another tribe of warriors like Anat's, or even a barbarian tribe. Despite the first feelings that came to his mind at the sight of the attackers though, Lucian kept heading towards them and the line of defenders that stood between him and the attackers. There was only a single line of men in front of several lines of women. In addition to the warriors blocking the path itself, there were several archers on the edges of the path, ready to fire at the invaders. The women lining behind the men also bore bows to go along with their melee weapons of choice.

Lucian took a slow and deep breath as he approached the back line of women, knowing that Anat wasn't here to speak for him or defend him if any of the women, or even men for that matter, decided to turn their weapons on him in the middle of the battle and claim it was a mistake. Despite all the things that could go wrong though, Lucian was confident as he walked past each row of women to join the row of men. He could feel the eyes of the women upon him as he drew his weapon, but he didn't turn back. His gaze was fixed on the approaching attackers.

The men on either side of Lucian stood steady as the first twang of a bow sounded and was soon joined by more. It started with the women on either side of the path, picking off the front runners. They slowly fell back as the enemy got closer. The first volley of arrows from behind the men came with a sense of relief within Lucian as arrows flew past and over them, but didn't hit any of the men, particularly him.

The sounds of the dead and dying soon joined the sounds of the bows, but it was all drowned out when the attackers leaped from their visibly exhausted horses and charged, The row of men were ready, and charged forward, Lucian just ahead of them. With that charge, came a feeling that Lucian had never felt before. an excitement that was beyond anything he'd ever felt. He met the first attacker head on, barely stopping as he parried the man's blade to the side and pivoted, using the momentum of his spin to slash up and across the man's wide open body. The slash was instantly fatal and sprayed Lucian's face and chest with blood. There was no time to celebrate though, because no sooner did he bring his blade back to the ready, than the next attacker was before him. Lucian blocked the man's blade and kicked him square in the stomach. The man doubled over, and Lucian finished him off with a clean swipe of his blade, covering him in even more blood.

The battle was fast and brutal, especially given the clear inexperience and exhaustion of the attackers. They clearly had no idea what they were in for, and had ridden too hard through the night. Despite that though, Lucian did have to be on his toes, and when the bulk of the group approached, he discarded his katana and it's sheath, knowing that it would only slow him down and be too bulky and slow against so many attackers.

From the moment Lucian drew his scimitars to the moment the battle was over, he was like a whirlwind of death. One blade would block a blow, and the other would strike. Which one did which task seemed irrelevant as he cut through one invader after another.

When the battle was finally over, Lucian was covered in blood from head to toe. He was gasping for breath as let himself fall to a knee, letting his blades slip from his hand as he looked down at himself. He couldn't help but wonder what the others had thought of him. With a low grunt, Lucian picked up his blades and sheathed them. He turned back towards the camp. He felt the eyes of everybody on him once more as he stopped to pick up his katana, but paid the viewers no heed. He was on his way to the weapons rack when he heard what the men were supposed to do. He gave a heavy sigh as he set his weapons back in place on the rack. He took a brief minute to stop by Anat's tent and drop off the armor. He left it on the ground outside though, not wanting to get blood on anything inside. He then reluctantly followed the rest of the men to perform the less than savory task of burying the dead.

Burying dead people is never an act to be enjoyed, but it let lucian have his first full look at the men, though some were barely older than boys, that had attacked the camp. The sight of them all, and the condition of both their clothing and bodies brought a sadness to his heart. Despite that feeling though, there was nothing to be done about it. He, along with the rest of the men, performed their unsavory task, and when it was finally finished, headed back towards the camp once more.

Lucian had no idea what he was supposed to do next, but returning to Anat's tent covered in blood probably wasn't it. So he dragged his hot and exhausted body back towards the spring. He stripped off what little he wore and waded into the water, letting out a soft sigh of relief that came with the first touch of the cool water on his overheated skin.