The Emperor's Pleasure

[Stranger34]

An hour or so later, Tallon was striding back along the Great Thoroughfare, towards his sister's chambers, in a far better mood. The slave girl was very interesting, she had piqued his curiosity, and sated his lust at the same time, and this was a rare find in a girl.

Worries were pushed to the back of his mind, he was even feeling a little more phlegmatic about the Norse giant Farisris was rumoured to have bought. he knew his sister - this slave would be a new toy, a plaything for her, until she lost interest, but she would have little time to tempt wayward husbands into her bed, if everything he had heard about Nordic stamina was to be believed.

If he was lucky, he might even catch his sister as she was coupling with him - now that WOULD put her in a foul mood.

In fact, if you did not know Tallon better, and realise that such feelings were completely alien to him, you might even surmise that he was feeling a little mischeivous.

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

"I can stand for you," His voice, softer and warmer since her kiss, softened the smile on her lips.

“I admit I like the sight of you exactly where you are.” Both of her hands cupped his face, her fingers resting lightly on his skin, gently moving between his cheek and neck. She recalled he went to his knees willingly, if he wished to get up there was no reason to keep him down… except, perhaps the view. He was so close; she could almost feel him with her skin. She shook her, and slid her hands to his shoulders.

“Stand for me, Davis.”

"Are you not scared to touch me? I am of you... I feel as if I might break you if I touch too hard."

“Scared to touch you? I am enjoying touching you. Surely, you can see that?” Her hands moved across the breadth of his shoulders and trailed down bare skin of his arms, coming to rest at his wrists, feeling his pulse beneath her fingers.

“Do you think you could touch me hard enough to break me? Do you think you would? I heard the men from the north have ice in their veins. It is said they are fires that only ignite in the heat of battle, and their lust is reserved for blood, never wasted on the flesh.”

Farsiris placed his hands on her waist, at the soft curve between hip and torso.

“Have I been misinformed?”

 

[poohlive]

He rose to his feet, only his hands lingering where she touched him. Everything else taut and rigid as he stood for her. Too tall, too proud. His face did not look for the horizon though, it only searched for her eyes.

"Our blood does only ignite in battle, dear Countess, but not all battles take place on a field."

His lips cracked once, just enough... a shadow of a smile, but it left just as soon as it was formed.

"Would you allow me?" One hand went up to her cheek, her alabaster skin which felt like warm velvet against his fingertips. The small caress, gentle, lingering as if he were allowed to touch some work of art.

"Can I touch you, Countess?"

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

It was like watching a mountain grow from the ground, her eyes followed his as Davis rose to his feet. He stood easily, not as a man accustomed to being on his knees but as a man familiar with the use of his limbs and his balance. She should have taken a step back, she should have moved away from him but instead she let her head tipped back so she could continue to watch him and not lose the feeling of having him so close. He searched for her eyes and found them aflame, as they looked into his.

"Our blood does only ignite in battle, dear Countess, but not all battles take place on a field."

A knowing smile settled onto her face, Farsiris had fought many battles off the field and was pleased with her victories. There was no doubt in her mind that she would win this one, but unlike most, she expected it would present a few unique challenges.

"Would you allow me?" His hand brushed her cheek in a soft caress. She parted her lips to speak but suddenly found they were too dry. She ran her tongue across them instead while she slowly made a small nod.

"Can I touch you, Countess?"

She tilted her head to the side, unconsciously baring her throat as she looked at him.

“Yes, Davis, you may touch me.”

 

[brigid_fitch]

Shanti

Shanti gathered up her sari, dressing quickly. Tallon was long gone, having left his two guards to wait for her and escort her back to the slaves' quarters. Her hand absently rubbed her neck where he had bitten her as she played the last half hour over in her mind. She was still unsure as to what had happened.

On the march back to her quarters, Shanti tried to analyze what kind of game she was playing. Even as Karinna once again made soothing noises as she prepared her for the bath, Shanti was engrossed with her own thoughts. She had pleasured Tallon once again, and once again she had succeeded in keeping him off-balance and indecisive. She had been spared punishments that he had no doubt meted out to others who had not stepped out of line anywhere near as much as she had done this night. The picture of poor Ophelia sprung to mind. Karinna dried her long, raven-black hair, checking her for marks and bruises to dress, showing confusion when she found none.

No, Tallon hadn't punished her, but he had done something to her. She searched her mind for the landscape of her grand plan, but found nothing but the wasteland of the desert. Thoughts of escape no longer occurred to her. Tallon was cruel and ruthless, but there was something else there, something that Shanti had not encountered anywhere else in her life. There was his mind, quick and bright and clever. No doubt as clever as she, and that was a rare thing. She had succeeded in fooling him, into making him think she was an obedient slave, but that was only because he had been thinking with his groin. If he ever chose to remove himself from the situation, look past her overt attempts to seduce him into placidity, he would surely snap her neck without a tinge of remorse.

And now she was to return to his chambers tonight. She detachedly dressed in a new sari Karinna handed her and waited to be escorted by Tallon's guards. He had questions to ask of her, of how she knew how to please him. He had implied that she could not have learned in the village, but that was the truth. How could she tell him that the village women had taken her under their wing, told her of the Kama Sutra and all of their combined experiences in order for her to land a husband? In the village, her sharp mind and sharper tongue were her curse. Here, they were all she had.

 

[poohlive]

She offered so willingly, not even an ounce of inhibition. Even when his hand touched her throat, those thick fingers almost able to completel close around. His one hand could surround her entire slender throat.

Such a small girl, small and dainty and everything he was not. In the height of his day he'd been thrown women like this two or three at a time. They could not keep up with him.

This one, this one wanted him though. She had asked for him, and here he was, touching, caressing, gently letting his fingers wander over such flawless beauty.

He leaned down, his lips almost daring to touch, to kiss, but unable. He had not asked permission. Instead he breathed in her scent. He held the back of her neck, holding her up to him like some wonderful spring flower he had just found, and took her in. His nostrils filling with her smell, his eyes closed in happiness.

He could not resist. He had asked no permission, so the kiss would be stolen. It did not matter though. The best kisses were those which were stolen. Those hard pressed kisses in the back of the barn, fear rising up your spine, sending your head for loop after loop after loop.

His lips touched hers. They pressed, he tasted of her, drank from her, the sweet flavor that was the Countess.

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

She felt his hand at the back of her neck as her face tilted up to his. The hand was large and strong and its roughened skin caught in her soft hair. She knew it could be a gesture of control, or a signal of a threat. Where the head goes, the body must follow. For all her planning, for all her precautions, he could quite easily snap her neck with his one hand. It was a risk she was taking; he could kill her before she uttered a sound. Not all men valued their family, some would quite easily refuse to make any sacrifice, and she doubted her own brother would surrender anything for her benefit. The little fear that acknowledged Davis could change his mind at any time added piquancy to her hunger.

The soft tenderness of his touch surprised her; there was no sign of roughness. His caresses were smooth and left behind a trail of warmth that spread, the warmth touching her skin in places his hand had not reached.

He leaned down; she felt his breath on her skin before he inhaled. He drew her in as a deep breath and she wondered if it was rose of jasmine that filled his nostrils, despite her usual vanity she suddenly found she was unable to recall such a simple detail.

He pressed his lips to hers; he kissed her mouth, and for an instant Farsiris stiffened. No one kissed her lips, no one. Not since she was forced to endure those detested foul kisses of her husband have lips touched hers. She moves her hand, her intention to push him away however, she does not move her head; she does not turn away from his kiss.

It was so unexpected, the wave of revulsion did not come, instead the knot tightened in her belly spreading its warmth deeper than the touch of his of his. Hesitantly, she parts her lips and tastes him on her tongue, her hand remains on his shoulder as she pulls her body closer to his; all thoughts of ending the kiss are gone.

 

[poohlive]

There came a moment when he thought she would pull away. He felt a resistance, her tightening up, so different from those natural fluid moments of before. He thought she would pull back, chastize him for not asking for a kiss, tell him about the proper etiquette of him as a companion, what he can and can not do. Would he take that, could he? Such tension on his own part.

But as she melted into him, perhaps the thought of yelling at him seemed mute at this point, or perhaps the cool collected kiss drove away Master and slave from her mind for just a few moments, the acceptance was more welcome than anything else they had done.

Davis felt peaked, alive. He dove into her, his kisses warm and flattering, his tongue tasting, coming out shy at first, to try her taste for the first time. Once it was on his tongue, sweet and delicious, like cool water from a babbling brook, he wanted more, needed more. Davis drank deeply from her.

He pushed her back, slowly and gently upon the couch, now she rested on her back, himself kneeling on the floor beside her, over her, on top of her, showering her with kisses.

His hands had not stopped their descent upon her body. He let one run down her fine curved side, fingertips daring to touch underneath the robe she now wore. They threatened to pull it off, to show more of her alabaster skin to him.

Their kiss broke though, the rush of air to his lungs was welcome, but not as much as her sweet lips. He bent down, this time along her neck, letting his teeth graze such flawless skin, lips quivering each time they came together to play.

 

[Stranger34]

Tallon

With what just might have been the smallest smile playing around his lips, or perhaps just the trick of the shadows in the dying evening light, Tallon not so much knocked, as threw his huge fist against his sister's door. It was not a request to be allowed entry, but a demand, with the implied possibilty of a door that would easily buckle and splinter should the demand be refused.

"Farsiris? It is I!"

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

Farsiris was too easily lost in Davis’ kiss and then his kisses. Her mouth surrendered to his warm lips and his sweet tongue, he was taking her lips like a child smiling sweetly and stealing the candy, waiting to be stopped but fondly allowed to continue. Needful but not demand, his kisses like candy were too sweet for her to resist.

He leaned her back into the couch, smoothly, not hurriedly. There was no force his action, just direction. It was as if he was waiting for her to object or resist. Her hands smoothed over his arms, delighting in the feel of skin pulled tight over hard muscle, briefly she wondered how deep his strength ran. Was it only of body or did it include character and control, as well. But he was bending over her, raining kisses; he was above her, yet on his knees, beside her, and the questions flew from her mind with only a hint of the answer.

His finger teased under her robe thrilling her skin, warming her flesh. Her hands moved over him, up his arms across his shoulder to his neck. She loved that spot… right there… the slow curve where his shoulder met his neck, his throat. There, she could feel the physical strength in him, the hard muscle, the rigid tendon but she could also feel the beat of his heart under her fingers, his life in her hands.

The kiss broke and released from her a quiet moan that she did not realize she had been holding. She drew a deep breath, trying to recover from kisses that left her breathless. A smile touched her lips when he lowered his mouth to her neck. She shrugged a delicate shoulder and her robe spilled off her as she slid her arm from the loose sleeve. Waiting to feel him touch her skin, she touched his. She ran her arm up his until her hand reached his back, and then she pulled on him, lifting up to him, pressing her bared breast into the rough cotton of his tunic.

With a startled mew, she latched on to him. One hand pulled on him while the other grabbed on to his arm. Then a frown crossed her face. Even before she heard him call out her name, she knew it was her brother. No one else would dare to bang on her door in such a demanding way.

"Farsiris? It is I!"

Before Farsiris could do more than stir against Davis, Besan was striding her way from the kitchen to the door, and she shot her mistress a warning look as she passed. Farsiris partially released her hold on Davis to lean back on the couch but she kept her hand on his arm as her fingers drew little circles in his warm skin.

Besan opened the door, “My Lord Tallon, Lady Farsiris requests….” As always she stepped aside to let him enter, rather than make him go through her.

 

[Stranger34]

Tallon

Tallon strode into the room, in full battle dress. He had Farsiris at a disadvantage, and he wanted to exploit the situation to the full. Also, he wanted to see if the rumours that had reached his ears, that his sister had bought a Norse warrior at auction, were true.

As always, he marched to the centre of the room, and as always, he bellowed out her name. It did not occur to him that she might find his behaviour boorish, or overly formal, or even rude. He was Tallon, and evryone else - with the exception, of course, of The Emperor Himself, was there to do as they were told.

"Farsiris! Come out!"

He waited, as always aware of potential danger, beautifully poised and balanced. He wondered what state of undress his sister might appear in, this time.

 

[Stranger34]

Tallon

double post

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

Leaning her head to the side for better view, Farsiris twisted around Davis and smiled as she watched her brother make his grand and imposing entrance. She rarely saw it him walk through the door, usually she liked to make him come in and then wait for her, and so this was a rare treat. Not worth the treat interrupted by his entry, but it was something. Unconsciously, her body was moved by remembered pleasure.

Does he do it like that every time? Does he always march in with a flourish, as if he has an army at his back and an enemy in the field? What does he expect? Does he fear I will launch myself at him and mar his perfect skin? Maybe he thinks I will cower at the sight of him imposing magnificence. That trick stopped working… by the gods, it never worked.

"Farsiris! Come out!" he bellowed.

She her eyes narrowed but her lips lifted in a curl, as she was caught somewhere between a rage and the desire to giggle.

She partially rose off the couch, wrapping her hand around Davis' arm to pull her head and shoulders up. It was the only way she could do it, she did not want to take her hand off him; she did not want to give up the warm strength of him beneath her fingers. Her other hand, pale and elegant, fluttered gracefully towards Davis, and she was uncaring that her robe slid across her skin, revealing more of her alabaster flesh, as she reached to touch him. Sharply, almost as if she caught it in a forbidden act, she pulled her hand back and lifted it to wave casually at her brother.

“I suppose, dear brother, you expect me to be grateful that you bothered to knock at all.” Her tone was sardonic and her lips curled in that special smile she reserves for Tallon.

 

[poohlive]

His heart picked up a beat, but only for a moment. He turned from her touch, her silken skin, to th noise and shouting from behind him. He thought it best to stand, but apparently Farsiris thought differently. She held him there, crawling to move and see the intrustion.

A brother. Her brother.

Davis didn't move from her side though, instead turning as she did. They both looked at the man, tall and proud and brillowing deep within his chest. A man who loved impressions, who dwealt within his own little world, and needed to feel the biggest and best inside of the room.

Davis looked back at Farsiris and her state of undress. Even with an audience, it still enthrilled him to see her. He wanted to keep going, to let his tongue run all over her flesh, every piece he wished to touch.

Instead, he only nuzzled against her cheek, "Do you wish me to leave, Countess?"

 

[Stranger34]

Tallon

Tallon whirled around, to see his sister standing behind him.
He flushed instantly, seeing her half-dressed, her pale, alabaster skin flawless, striking in the contrast with her red hair.

"I presume, dear sister, that you are not alone."

His voice was heavy with sarcasm, imitating her tone and way of speech, knowing as he did how it irritated her.

He turned his attention then, to the huge, blond Norseman, lying on the couch, though just how huge, Tallon was yet to find out.

"I see you have been busy at auction, Farsiris. I am not here to interfere with your doings, so long as they do not affect me. But I should warn you to be careful, that is all. I hope you will not assume that because he is your slave, he will be endlessly compliant, or will tolerate an infinite amount of humiliation - that is not the Norse way.
In fact, I am surprised that a Norse would even agree to become a slave - I thought that they would die, before entering bondage. It seems that the old ways are changing."

This was a deliberate act of goading on Tallon's part. He knew it would irk Farsiris almost as much as it would anger the Norseman - but he always felt confident in his own fighting abilities, sure that he could take on and beat even the hugest and strongest opponents. That confidence had taken him to his present position, and had helped him to stay there. He was used to intimidation, and bullying, to get his own way, and to cement his reputation as someone to be feared.

The only person who did not fear him, he felt, was his own sister - and he knew not whether it was something that infuruited him, or that he was proud of her for.

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

"Do you wish me to leave, Countess?"

With a smile, she raised until her lip were brushing against Davis’ ear. “Stay with me.” She whispered and she grazed her cheek against his as she pulled away.

She slid off the couch and moved gracefully towards Tallon. She caught sight of the blood flowing to his checks as he turned to see her, although whether he was embarrassed to see so much of her naked skin or angered to see Davis, she could not tell.

"I presume, dear sister, that you are not alone." He mimicked her tone, just as he did when she was a child and his mockery of her brought fire to her emerald eyes and an angry flare to her nostrils. She managed to hold her tongue just long enough to step aside and, with an elegant flourish that nearly cost the covering of robe, reveal Davis.

“Is he not beautiful? Magnificent, don’t you agree” Her voice was carried by the light and airy spirit of her delight but it could not completely mask the heavier, throatiness of her desire.

"I see you have been busy at auction, Farsiris. I am not here to interfere with your doings, so long as they do not affect me. But I should warn you to be careful, that is all. I hope you will not assume that because he is your slave, he will be endlessly compliant, or will tolerate an infinite amount of humiliation - that is not the Norse way. In fact, I am surprised that a Norse would even agree to become a slave - I thought that they would die, before entering bondage. It seems that the old ways are changing."

Farsiris, her cheeks flushed with renewed anger, stepped closer to her brother, close enough to slap his face but she held her hands clenched to her side refusing to give into that desire. Instead, she stood between them, between Tallon and Davis, nearly toe to toe with Tallon as she hissed at him.

“It seems the Norse put their honor before tradition. They value the old ways by respecting their family and their honor.” She cocked her head to the side, as she looked up at him, “Perhaps, if you spent more time on the battlefield and less time in arms of the Emperor’s pleasure slaves, you would understand these things.” Her lips curled into a goading smile as tossed back her tussled fiery curls, she bared her throat as if daring him to reach for it. “There is only one man in this room who has recently battled with anything more deadly then a cowed and fearful foreign slave girl and, dear brother, it is not you.”

 

[poohlive]

A fire stirred in his belly as Farsiris left him. He turned, rising to his full form. It seemed that his head almost touched upon the ceiling. When he rose it was a dawning, and he glanced to the brother with glaring eyes.

Honor...

If it weren't for his sister he would show this man what honor truly meant. To know she would be safe he would do more than just kill himself, he would take as many with him as he could before he went down.

They would all hear it.

But, Farsiris went between him and the man, not that he made any advancements. Although, Davis would have if he hadn't been thinking straight. He would have stood up, broken this little man's neck, and continued his conquering of her sister.

As it stood now, Farsiris seemed to be protecting him. And yet, the more she talked, the more he feared for her own safety. She lashed with her words, harder than any whip could afford, and for them to fall upon such a stranger's ears would hurt even more so.

He decided to move up against his countess, not to back her, but protect her from any lashing that her dear brother might have in store for her. He liked Farsiris, she was a good and fair mistress. They would need to change some rules about who he was, and why he was here, but Davis imagined before this pompous bafoon arrived negotiations were going quite fine.

He would protect her... if nothing else, she deserved his protection.

 

[Stranger34]

Tallon

Tallon was a big man, huge, even, by normal standards, but the giant that faced him, as he slowly rose from his position next to Farsiris, was colossal enough to almost dwarf him. Tallon had seen Norsemen before, fought against them even, in a brief war, but had seen none quite as impressive as this.

He appraised the giant, showing no outward sign of fear, looking for potential weak spots, should he ever need to face him in a fight, though inwardly, he sincerely hoped this would never come to pass.

"There is only one man in this room who has recently battled with anything more deadly then a cowed and fearful foreign slave girl and, dear brother, it is not you.”

There was a fragment of silence, as fraught and full of fear and danger and violence as a great battle condensed into the space of a heartbeat. Her remark sped like an arrow and buried itself deep into Tallon's flesh, wounding him almost mortally, carrying with it as it did the implication that he was a weakling, a coward, when compared to the mountain of carved ice that stood behind her, protecting - protecting - her from her own brother's rage.

His face flushed a deep red, a mixture of fury, and hurt, and confusion. All the more hurtful, because deep down, he may just have known it was true.

The jade eyes blazed, meeting with his sister's, a lifetime of quarrels and love and frustrations and battles, now teetering on the edge of a dark and bottomless chasm.

"You are saying, that I am soft, and weak, and good for nothing but pleasure with slave girls???"

Silence. Even Farsiris seemed to think she had gone too far, she was pale, even paler than usual, and her tongue was quiet.

The giant Norse, behind her, even he was unsure.

"Maybe I am soft, Farsiris, soft and weak in my dealings with you. Maybe I should have had you sold into slavery like Father wanted, or even made you one of my own slavegirls, and cut your tongue out when you were disobedient!!!"

"You are my sister, I have a duty to protect you, and to see that you do not come to harm, even when your EVERY action and word seems designed to humiliate me!

"You have a protector now - no, there is no need to defend her from me, I shall not be returning. Defend her from herself, if you can stand the humiliation you will endure.
I cannot, any longer!"

And with that, as quickly as he had entered, Tallon turned, and left her, and her giant Nordic slave.

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

The jade eyes blazed, meeting with his sister's, a lifetime of quarrels and love and frustrations and battles, now teetering on the edge of a dark and bottomless chasm.

"You are saying, that I am soft, and weak, and good for nothing but pleasure with slave girls???"

Farsiris felt the color of her fury drain from her face as she realized she might have finally gone too far. All she could do was hold her tongue and lift her chin, daring him to continue.

"Maybe I am soft, Farsiris, soft and weak in my dealings with you. Maybe I should have had you sold into slavery like Father wanted, or even made you one of my own slavegirls, and cut your tongue out when you were disobedient!!!"

“No! Father? You blame our dead father for your own heinous deeds, you fiend! He told me! He told me how you wanted to sell me to the Emperor’s procurer. How if I was lucky enough to survive the training to be the Emperor’s toy for a night, I might be fortunate enough to end that night with my head. He told me how I could look forward to a lifetime of being passed from one man to the next until I was too hard used for anyone to want to me. He told me the only way he could save me from what YOU planned for me was a marriage, marriage to a vile perverted old man who….”

Farsiris shrieked and threw up her hands. Her eyes blazed and her pale skin was hot and alive with color. Her chest rose and fell as she gasped for air, “You vex me! You only come here humiliate or chastise me, you deliberately goad me into speaking hot words, and then you act the injured party! You come into my home; you mock me at your leisure and … what? Do you still hope that I will lie down and take what you give me? Do you expect me to be as frightened and compliant as one of your slaves? My words, you fool, are the only weapons I have against your attacks; you force me to use them than complain they are too sharp.”

"You are my sister, I have a duty to protect you, and to see that you do not come to harm, even when your EVERY action and word seems designed to humiliate me!”

“Oh, by the gods, Tallon! I am a widow; I seek comfort and companionship. It has nothing to do with you, how was I to know you would have such an interest in who I fuck? I have done nothing TO you, yet you see my every action as a personal attack”. She steps closer to him as she hisses like an angry snake. “Perhaps, if once, just once you had tried speaking to me as your sister instead of ordering me like a slave or commanding me like a soldier, perhaps I would have enjoyed having a brother to guide me, protect me.”

"You have a protector now - no, there is no need to defend her from me, I shall not be returning. Defend her from herself, if you can stand the humiliation you will endure. I cannot, any longer!"

And with that, as quickly as he had entered, Tallon turned, and left her, and her giant Nordic slave.

“That is it, dear brother; do as you always do… run away. But don’t worry, when I retell the tale, I’ll make sure it is told truthfully, I know it’s not Davis you fear, it is me.”

 

[poohlive]

It felt a great deal like his own dealings with his sister, but in the same respect it felt so foreign, so indignant. He could never deal with his sister such as this, and his sister in turn would never deal with him in such a way.

They did have their arguments though, every family did. Were it this extreme? God, could it ever be so extreme? He didn't think he could put aside such feelings for his sister to hurt her so, or have her do the same for him.

How could he, when she was locked up by Farsiris and he is here trying to keep her safe from harm's way. He would do whatever he could to keep her out of the brothels and street thugs who whore out girls for pennies.

Then, by the way some of it sounded, Farsiris' brother had done the same to her. So maybe they were not so different after all.

He still stood, tall and proud. The intensity and proximity of his eyes gone now, a flash of indifference running through him as he looked not at the Countess, but the room in its entirety.

"Is there anything else you require for me?" Even the tone in his voice was gone, that familiarity, that spark they had shared earlier swept away. He was her prisoner, she his captor. Nothing more.

 

[Stranger34]

Tallon

Tallon returned to his chambers, angry, hurt, wounded, furious with his sister and the world.
“That is it, dear brother; do as you always do… run away. But don’t worry, when I retell the tale, I’ll make sure it is told truthfully, I know it’s not Davis you fear, it is me.”

Every word she spoke twisted a little closer to his heart, he hated her for making him feel so vulnerable, and yet another part of him loved her still, and hated her for making him weak enough to love her, to be vilnerable to her words and actions.

He slammed the door in a dark fury, sending the little servant girl scurrying away in fright.

Maybe Farsiris was right, after all. Maybe he was turnig weak, and soft. Maybe all those slave girls had sapped his strength - perhaps he should venture out into the desert once more, alone but for his sword and his wits, to battle whatever he might find. Just to escape the claustrophobia of the court, and it's politics, and intrigues, and the responsibility of training girls for the Emperor's pleasure.

Deep in thought, the soft knock on the door came as a surprise. Who the hell was that? Then he remembered - the slavegirl.....Shanti - he had ordered her to be at his rooms. Well, he would have to send her away.

He growled at the door. "Enter!"

 

[impish_pixie]

Farsiris

Her fights with Tallon always ended the same way, unfinished, with him slamming the door and she breaking glass. She turns from the door and her eyes frantically search for something to throw. They alight upon a vase of cut green glass, large, and heavy, it is filled with water and cut flowers. Perfect. She is reaching for it when the cool, indifferent voice of Davis cuts into the fire of her rage.

"Is there anything else you require for me?"

She grabs the vase and pulls it to her chest before spinning to face him. Her eyes rake over him before reaching up to his, searching his eyes. Probing deeply with her gaze, green fire finds nothing but blue ice. There is no spark in him, no intensity, and no passion.

He is different; he has changed…No!

The fury re-ignites in her like the blast from a furnace and she pushes past him with a fiery shriek, “Curses on you both!” With two hands, she hefts the vase over her head and hurls it at the door. The shattering of the heavy crystal mars the wooden door and sends a shower of water and green glass over the room and a fall of fresh flowers sliding to the floor. As she stares the little scene of destruction she created her passionate fury becomes precariously controlled, and her emerald eyes narrow as the fire in them is banked to smoldering embers masking the anguishing pain she will deny.

She turns back to him, commanding and unyielding. Her control is tenuous, her cheeks are still flushed and her breath comes fast and deep but she slowly raises a graceful alabaster arm and points a long elegant finger to the door. Her voice now hard where it was once soft, “Go to the kitchen and get your sister, have her clean up that mess.”

In a flourish of white silk and red hair, she turns and calls out for Besan, but she stops before she leaves the room, “Davis, I’ll have you in my bed after dinner.” Her beautiful smile does not reach her eyes. She turns to leave the room, pointing at the door, “Jennifer. Do not forget.”

 

[brigid_fitch]

Shanti

"Enter!"

The guard accompanying Shanti chuckled at Tallon's bellowing.

"He's in a mood tonight. Behave, or he'll snap a little thing like you in twain." He leered at her, moving his hand to her hair. He stroked it, but then grabbed it in a cruel fist as his hand reached the nape of her neck. "Better you should stay with me. I'll make sure to give you a night you'd not soon forget." He pulled her closer to him, his rank breath assaulting her nostrils, making her wince. "Tallon may be Head Trainer," he continued, "But my Head can teach you a thing or two." As he leaned in to kiss her, Shanti turned her head towards the door and put a hand to the man's chest.

"Do you think it wise to keep Tallon waiting?," she said, a little louder than necessary. "If he is in a mood, as you say, at whom do you think he will more likely direct his wrath? To me, who is here at his command, or to you who is detaining me from your Commanding Officer?" She hoped the oaken door weren't so thick that Tallon couldn't hear her. She'd love nothing more than to see this foul beast punished for insinuating himself onto her. She reached for the door latch, but the guard, furious that Tallon may have heard her, slapped her hand away. With his hand still in her hair, he opened the door and practically dragged Shanti into the room.

"My Lord, I have brought you tonight's slave." And he quickly left the room before Tallon could stop him. If the bitch was as good as the slaves rumored, he hoped Tallon would be too distracted by her to notice he'd left without being dismissed. Closing the door soundly behind him, the guard stalked off to the slaves' quarters in search of meeker fare.

Shanti stood by the door in her new sari, a beautiful green silk that offset her brown eyes, black hair, and dark complexion nicely. She looked again into Tallon's eyes and wondered at them. Such a hulk of a man, with a litany of cruel deeds to his credit, to have such captivating eyes. She was at once glad of Karinna's choice of sari, as she noted the color was almost that of those arresting eyes. But it took her only a heartbeat to see that something was wrong. To say he was "in a mood" was an understatement. Something had infuriated him, affected him deeply. There were dark storm clouds looming behind those eyes. Tallon's outward appearance was usually guarded and aloof--now he was flushed and sullen. The guard had been right about one thing--if she made one mis-step, he would no doubt take out his frustrations on her. Instantly, she was on her knees before him, head bowed low to floor against the plush rugs, her ass artfully displayed for him.

I can handle Tallon...I can handle Tallon...

"My Lord," she said in as sweet and unchallenging a voice as she could muster. "I have come at your request." She flexed her long, nimble fingers almost imperceptibly--enough to make it look reflexive, but just enough so that he'd notice them. When he said nothing for a moment, she dared to continue. "My Lord wished me to answer some questions for him, about what little knowledge of pleasure this humble slave apparently possesses." She looked up at him, her eyes respectful. "I will be happy to tell you my tale, if that is your wish."

 

[Stranger34]

Tallon

Tallon sighed.
Normally the sight of pretty little Shanti, her pert bottom displayed for him, her seductive, delicate fingers flexing suggestively, would have sent him into transports of delight.

But his mood was soured, blackened, by the fierce argument he had had with his sister, and worse, by the things that she had said to him, things that deep down, he was afraid were true.

Perhaps he should be rid of her.....but he did not want to be alone with his thoughts. The things Farsiris had said about fearful foreign slave girls......well this one was foreign, and she was a slave, but the one thing she had not been was fearful. It was one of the reasons, other than the pleasure that she seemed able to divine that he wanted, that he liked in her.

"it seems, that I am only good for striking fear into slave girls, that they are making me weak and complacent."

The sentence hung in the room, Shanti wisely did not reply.

"I am not myself tonight. I will hear your tale. Begin."

He resisted the urge to pick her up, carry her over to his lap, and stroke her while she told her story. The feeling was a powerful and urgent one, but he was going to resist this, he would not give in to the wiles of a slave girl, and prove his sister right in all that she had said.

 

[brigid_fitch]

Shanti

"it seems, that I am only good for striking fear into slave girls, that they are making me weak and complacent."

Shanti hoped her expression did not betray her surprise. This was not the Tallon she knew, or thought she knew. He was brooding, almost sulking--definitely not the commanding Head Trainer she had been so methodically manipulating into heedlessness. Someone had done her work for her. Almost. She thought it best not to reply. In his current frame of mind, he was too unpredictable.

"I am not myself tonight. I will hear your tale. Begin."

Again surprise, but this time she let it show. She doubted he would have admitted his mood to anyone, least of all a slave. His tone was one of familiarity, as though he were speaking to a...peer? She knew she did not have that kind of license--not yet, anyway--but she was certainly going to take advantage of the situation. But there was something in his voice, his manner, that made Shanti feel pity for him. What could have happened to him since this morning to change him so? His reputation of cruelty was well-known throughout court, spoken in hushed tones as though the mere mention of his name would bring down fierce punishment. Ophelia was walking proof of his mercilessness. But he had never shown any of that malice with her. She felt as though she had been witness to another side of Tallon that the others had never seen. And her pity turned to compassion.

"My Lord, I'm afraid I don't know where to begin. I can bore you with details of my life in the village, of working at the loom at my father's market stall, and how I am still unmarried even though, as I'm sure My Lord has guessed, I am well beyond the age to do so." She slowly rose from the floor and brushed away the wrinkles in her sari with her hands, making certain to display her fingers to him. Spying a decanter of wine on a low table, she walked towards it. "But if My Lord is amenable, shall I fetch a glass of wine to refresh you? Perhaps that will make my tale less banal."

She poured a goblet of wine, marveling at the deep, rich color. It was nothing like the thin drink she was used to at the village, pressed by the vintner's daughters and watered down to make up in volume what it lacked in quality. She went to her knees and presented the goblet to Tallon with bowed head. When he did not reach for it immediately, still moody and somber, she placed it in his hand for him, wrapping her lissome fingers around his. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and she kept her expression sympathetic. Then, taking a chance, she moved behind him on the pillows, slowly dragging her nails up his powerful arm as she did so, until she had reached his broad shoulders. She began to knead the hard muscle beneath, working out knots, and feeling him slowly, ever-so-slightly, relax despite himself.

"If My Lord would tell me what he'd like to know, or where I should start, I would be more than happy to accommodate. I am here at your command." Leaning in closer, so that her mouth was to his ear, she whispered, "And, I am glad of it." She smiled to herself, pleased with this new tack. If someone had convinced him that the slave girls obliged him only out of sheer fear, then let him believe there was one who came of her own volition. Whomever had rattled Tallon so had done a great boon to Shanti, and she was not going to let the opportunity go to waste.