Making Room For One More (Henry Brightblade)

[Gossamer]

TS: First Day of Cryxatum, Summer, Era II, XIV (pf)

Mareka waited on the curb. She was nervous, hesitant, and clutching her cloth travel bag as if the wind would blow it away any moment. The Dean had explained things to her and she was enormously relieved... she hoped. His wife, Madam Linal, was very difficult to work for. As she grew older, it got worse. The Dean, though gruff himself, had often sympathized with the girl when she accidentally got underfoot or later grew clumsy with the pressures of working for such a demanding woman.

Her mother had explained it well. Marga Dolgram was jealous. And as such, made her life a living nightmare for the most part. But the Dean had seen it, and had suggested an alternative situation.

Dean Dolgram was into some interesting things, and needed to bring his assistant on board. To do that, he wanted to curry the man's favor and somehow indenture him to his side through something or someone he could control. Mareka was that weapon, she supposed. It was true she wasn't freeborn, but that didn't mean she was treated badly in the Dolgram household. No, she'd attended domenstic schola with his own children, in which she'd been taught basic skills so she could assist in the kitchen and with the cleaning though she had no knowledge of figures and letters. And she'd fulfilled other duties as well. Now the duty of taking care of his assistant would fall to her, and The Dean had indicated the man was rather civil.

However, one never knew what happened behind closed doors. She could be going to a gentleman or a monster. But regardless, her happiness was on the line. If she did a good job with Henry, helped him, and helped The Dean bring him gently into The Fists Of Rage's fold... then she'd have a new situation away from Marga, and no matter what the cost, that was worth it. Though, a small part of her couldn't help but shiver wondering what Henry would expect, and what he'd be like. The Dean had told her, regardless, Henry would make the calls. And that scared her a little.

So, the girl stood on the curb and waited. She had her shockingly red hair hidden under a kerchief, a heavy blue peacoat hiding the rest of her skinny form, so all Henry would see when he exited the Academy was a sixteen year old girl, valise in hand, waiting anxiously for him. Her wide bright green eyes would be wary but curious, and her nose wouldn't be able to hide the light dusting of a half dozen freckles. She was a beauty, for sure, which is probably why Madam Dolgram wasn't easy on her. Not at all.

[Henry Brightblade]

Henry left the University with mixed emotions. He felt pride that the Dean had noticed his hard work, he had done everything within his power to make the office efficient and well just better. There was something in Henry that wanted to fix things, and though sometimes jealously and envy for the dean tore his good intentions apart, it was that something in his core that made him want to make the world better. There was so much injustice and cruelty in the world; it just didn’t make sense for Henry to add to it. The Dean saw that at times as well, he wanted a better Prime but the backstabbing of the ruling body wouldn’t help. Still the poor needed housing and there was nothing wrong with allowing a few people to make a profit for giving them that need.

And yet Henry now was the owner of a slave. It was scary, dangerous, and intoxicating at the same time. Henry could tell that there was a dark feeling inside of him, one that could treat a person like some item, a thing for his amusement. Who would stop him if he just decided to take his pleasure from her? Who would stop him if he beat her because he had a horrible day under the dean? He could make her under dress before his eyes and perform unclean acts? It was a dark fantasy, something that filled him with a kind of powerful lustful feeling that led down a darker path.

Yet there was something sickening about those fantasies; something that was so dark and that could turn him into someone with no love and empathy. Henry wanted to leave a legacy of value and strength, and you didn’t start that by taking someone and hurting them. Yet this was the world, it allowed it to happen. The strong rose and they could abuse the weak or help them rise as well. Henry just wasn’t sure what he would do when he met Mareka.

Henry came out the front door into the dying light of the day. For a moment Henry allowed himself to feel the presence of the world. How the heat of the day came rolling off the stone into the air, and yet how the air took it and ran it throughout the city, a city that added to the smells, sounds, and feel of the moment. Far off Henry hear children playing, women and man haggling about goods, stray dogs and cats being chased or begging for food. The smells of yeast and a million people, came to him. Some were pleasant, yet many smells were not. Still it was home, and Prime buzzed with the potiential for something magnificent. The plague had laid the city bare, yet she had survived and was mending, if the right people wanted the city could become not only better, but more so then ever before, and Henry wanted that.

The wind played with Henry budding pony tail, a fashion that most of the students seemed to love to wear, and as he spotted Mareka with his blue eyes his heart and his groin jumped for a moment. The dark passions had spoken once again, but Henry also knew from the first moment that he saw her he would never ask her for anything she wasn’t willing to give. She was someone that he wanted her to be free to give to herself, and yet if she was free would she want him? It was that doubt that stopped Henry from just avoiding the whole situation and setting her free, that and technically she wasn’t fully his to set free.

“Mareka? I am Henry Brightblade, please follow me to my…. To the apartment.” Henry looked down at the valise, “At any time during the journey you require help with that please tell me.”

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It was a quick and quiet walk home, mainly because Henry was trying to think of everything he wanted to say when they arrived. Henry took it slow since he had longer legs and the girl was carrying a bit of weight with her. He would have taken it from her, but then again it probably was everything she owned. Also, if he had said something about her not being able to carry it, then would she have taken offense? Sometimes it was too damnable confusing; surely the Gods would have graced him with better wit then this? He saw one cute little face and was ready to sire a dozen children, and yet the Gods sought to give him the will to make sure he wouldn’t touch her unless it was of her own free will. Surely they must have made me so they could laugh.

If Mareka needed the assistance Henry would stop and carry her baggage, otherwise as they walked he pointed out local shops and what he considered were some of their better wares.

Finally they arrived at the apartment, and for on brief moment Henry wanted to command the woman. Yet once he started he wouldn’t stop, and he knew it. So instead he showed her the kitchen, the closet and pantry. He showed her the bedroom and the cot he made her. He pushed over a chest and opened it with a key, telling Mareka that this was her chest for anything she wanted to place in it as he placed the key in the palm of her small hand. Before he left her to put away her items he hung a sturdy piece of rope between their beds and then placed a quilt over it. It was a cheap privacy screen, but Henry knew that he needed it just as much as Mareka.

Henry stood by the table as he awaited Mareka to finish. Once she left the bedroom and waited till she got close to the table and then started talking. “Trust is easy to lose and almost impossible to regain once lost…”

Henry held up a key in his hand, “This is an extra key for the apartment, when you leave I ask you to please lock up after yourself.”

Henry took out his purse, it contained his meager life savings, and he placed the key on the table and then placed coins next to the key. “The first stack is for food, there is enough for the both of us for several days. You will make breakfast and dinner for two; you will receive an equal portion for yourself. I don’t want to become fat, and lose any edge in sword play.” Henry placed a second stack of coins down, “You will also buy yourself a good pair of shoes or work boots, and we live on our feet, no sense in ruining either of our lives.” Looking down at the coins, he realized there would be some change, but he still placed a few more down for a third stack. “If there is anything left, please feel free to buy cloth for some dresses or a blanket for yourself, I wasn’t sure what you would bring with yourself.” Then he placed the coin stack on a hook in plane sight.

It was so scary thinking he was going to trust this young girl with a good amount of his money, not to mention that he was also placing trust in her not to run off and steal all the rest. It had place a bit of tension in the air, until Henry’s stomach growled loudly and he felt the tension go away. He smiled simply at Mareka, he hoped he hadn’t overdone the whole thing.

[Gossamer]

Mareka watched the young assistant approach and her nerves swelled up. She forgot about the beautiful day. She forgot about the noise of the city around her. The man was huge. His frame was far bigger than she'd expect from an 'assistant'. The girl had been hoping for a small studious person, one prone to the love of books and quietly shy. The Dean had assured her that Henry would treat her well, but studying this man, she couldn't help feel nervous.

"Yes, I'm Mareka." She pronounced the name softly... more like Mare... eee... kah, and kept her gaze low. The girl only glanced up once, and was startled to see green eyes very similar to her own. Again she glanced down. Mareka had no idea how to act, feel, or even think around this man. And as she clutched her valise, which did indeed have everything she owned in it, she was unable to say much. She only nodded in surprise as he first let her keep her things, and secondly let her carry her own bag with an offer to take it if it grew heavy. And they walked. Dean Dolgram walked nowhere. As she fell in step beside him, the awkwardness was almost tangible. What did she say to him? How was she to even address him? She was grateful for the walk, and the pace. It gave her a chance to calm down and really get used to his tall presence beside her. Mareka didn't know many people and kept to herself. But she had her instructions. This mans word was law. She was to do anything and everything to make his life easier and fufill any need he had at home to free him up for more time at work.

She followed him into the apartment and looked around. It was a small place, but it was clean and the man was organized who lived here. It would be tight quarters, but she could see immediately that it would be far warmer than the tiny attic room she had at the Dolgram Manor. There was, however, no privacy. It was almost instantly apparent that if she didn't get along well with this man, things would be rough. Though she kept her eyes low, she did lift them to look shocked as he gifted her with a key to a trunk that was all her own, and a key to the apartment. She took the tour without comment, and even looked over the sleeping arrangements with approval. By the time he was done making her feel welcome, Mareka was completely relaxed. Though he was a big man, he was kind. That much was obvious, and she was grateful beyond belief.

Once he left her alone, she placed her things in the trunk and did not lock it. While he showed her a huge measure of trust, she would do the same and not withhold anything of herself from him, she decided instantly. She found a nice peg on the wall to hang her cloak, and exited the bedroom with a lot more courage than she had before.

When she rejoined him, he could see her far more clearly. The woman was a strong beauty, not delicate like a pleasure slave, but of a sturdy strong-minded striking sort that made the best workers. She was all of a hundred or a hundred and a tenth stones in weight. Mareka's sandals were threadbare, and her shift of the thin rough sort most of her class wore. "Thank you. I understand, Master." She said simply, her green eyes coming up from the floor to meet his for an instant. "I have questions, Master, if you do not mind me asking. Am I able to leave anytime, and will you be showing me or telling me where the market and where the places are you wish me to purchase food are? I do not know this area, nor where the places are that are safe for me to go and at which times of the day." She said.

Mareka understood what he meant about trust. It went both ways. So she met his gaze for a length of time far longer than she had previous, and then smiled a slight friendly smile. "Yes, Master."

When he set the money out, she only nodded. Mareka was raised to think money sacred, and though she didn't understand it was all he had in the world, she wouldn't dare spend it on anything else other than what he instructed. "Master, if it pleases you, I will do so. Although I am able to cook, I do not know how to prepare the fancy dishes with the sauces and deserts that fatten one. I was only trained for simple fair involving meat and vegetables and bread. Such meals do not fatten easily. I will make sure the food I provide for you is healthy and watch to make sure it is what you need for your training to keep strong." She said softly, her voice slightly lyrical in its softness.

Once he'd instructed her on the use of his coin, she nodded. "Yes, Master. I will see to that. And thank you for the shoes. It is summer, may I save the coin for a warmer dress for winter when the cold weather comes. I will need one far more than I do now then?" She said, hating to ask him but wanting him to understand she had few needs. "Dean Dolgram sent me with clothing that is very useful and all I need, Sir." She added.

When his stomach growled, she frowned, and decided it was time for food. Before she got started, she did ask one last question. "Master, my duties include the cooking and shopping, I understand that. Are there others? I assume perhaps cleaning, and acting as a bodyservant. I am trained for both as well. I can bathe, shave, and I know basic massage. You only need to let me know what you wish for, and I will have things ready for you when you return from work. Established mealtimes and a list of your favorites would also be very helpful." She offered. Mareka really had a need to know her place and her duties. With Dean Dolgram's wife, she was often banished to the far reaches of the house doing menial things that kept her out of the line of the woman's sight. It was rough being the daughter of the Master under the nose of the wife. She was a living reminder that The Dean enjoyed his possessions enormously above and beyond what his wife liked to think he did. Nor did Mareka ask about the physical aspect of the ownership. She already assumed it was a given, for all he seemed keen on his own privacy. She understood that need, and was grateful that she was a quiet sleeper, not prone to snoring though she easily lived with such things from other servants.

So while she waited for his answer, she got busy surveying his stores and seeing what she could come up with. Quickly, she was able to mix together what she needed to make some egg noodles which she piled with some of the meat off the haunch he had hanging in the pantry in a thick gravey. The stroganoff would be hearty, and coupled with a thick slice of quickbread she made while she was also making up the noodles and boiling them. So, while they were conversing, she was busy preparing his food, and was able to set a very decent table for him within a half candlemark.

[Henry Brightblade]

Henry looked at the small girl in the wool shift. She was beautiful, not in a way that Henry would break her either, all she needed was a little bit of padding that food could provide and… Henry swore in his mind as he placed the coins on the table, he would not force himself on this girl. As the girl busy herself with cooking Henry decided to take his time to answer.

“Mareka, firstly my name is Henry and I would prefer that instead of ma… Master.” Henry couldn’t say the title without stuttering. It felt strange on his tongue, and truthfully he wanted to forget the idea of property between the two. He wanted to forget the desire of running his rough callusused hands up her slender arms and taking his fingertips to brush light upon her shoulder. “You are free to come and go as long as you make breakfast and dinner at the schedule times. Cleaning is one of your responsibilities’ but body servant isn’t. As for the manner of where you should go, I would stay within a five to six city blocks of the apartment. There is a market and several shops I frequent around here and I thought I showed you most of them on the way in…” Henry realized that he just had insulted her, and quickly made amends, “No matter, tomorrow morning on my way to the University I will show you the majority of them again and all will be well.”

Henry walked a little bit closer to the kitchen area, he smiled as he took a few moments to watch the young wisp of a girl cook. He might have made the same thing but it was the way that Mareka did it that seemed a little bit magical. Her small frame moved allowing the woolen shift to hug one spot or another on her body. It was strange thinking that if Henry had done the same he would be shirtless and staying more in one place. It was that she was inefficient in her task it was more that she had a whisper a feminine moment that made softness where Henry expected strength. She was strong to, as he could see the small muscles ripple across the skin, but it wasn’t stark like Henry’s arms it wasn’t unpleasant either.

“You may save the change for warmer clothes as well, I don’t have a problem with that.” He realized he had been staring at her, and decided while she made dinner he would go to work on the house like his father use to do. So he pulled off his shirt showing a great deal of muscle stretched across a board frame. A few scars were here and there but overall he kept himself trim. Mainly it was due too not overeating and training with the rapier when he had time. He went to the bedroom and took off his good pants for some work britches and then went to the cabinet for a sanding stone. He went to work sanding rough areas or the floor boards and walls. He might not have loved his stepfather but the man had taught him a great deal and in the end he had respected the man. So he went to work performing small carpentry. Replacing a floor board here, sanding a rough spot there, and all the while having a conversation with Mareka. The work was hard but it went by quick for the half candlemark, he enjoyed listening to Mareka’s voice. It was much like her, soft in a way that only a woman’s voice could be, yet had the backbone of strength. He spoke about how he preferred the simple foods and how he thought for his next project he would place a window and eaves step below it on the south wall.

It was small talk and truthfully every now and again his mind went to thinking about what was underneath Mareka’s shift as much to what was behind those green eyes. As Henry put the tools back and sat down at the table for dinner and realized that Mareka had set a place for her. “Mareka, sit down and eat with me. It doesn’t make sense for you to stand while I sit and eat.” Once the table was set for two, Henry dished out equal portions for himself and her. He sat eating the egg noddles shirtless and perhaps a little sweaty but he felt good that he had finally sanded those rough spots missed by the original carpenter. He wished in a way that he could make this feel like a home for her, he wanted in a way to make her feel like this was a part of her’s not that she was a part that belonged somewhere in here. Every once and a while he caught himself looking at her and smiling. It wasn’t with lustful look in his eyes or one of cruelty it was the simple look of happiness as a man eats a good meal across from a beautiful woman.

Sometimes that was all one needed just simple quiet while you ate, smiling at the partner across from you. After the meal, Henry felt good but he still knew that much needed to be done so he help Mareka clear the dishes from the table. Trying to stay out of the little doves way as she darted to pick up and clean the few dishes that she used. There was one moment where Henry accidentally bumped into Mareka. In that one moment he felt her body pressed against his and it tested his willpower. She felt… a thousand words came to his mind, but none could come up with a good way of describe the woman he now lived with. So Henry took himself out and started to whittle saving the small pieces in a box for spacers or kindling, he watched Mareka knowing that when she was finished it would be time for bed.

Once she was finished Henry told her good night and he went over to the bedroom. He removed his work pants and place simple cloth ones on as he went under the covers of his bed. He thought about the day and how it had worked out. Wondering if he someday Mareka would truly learn to be a woman and not a slave around him.

[Gossamer]

Mareka looked pleased. "Henry it is then. If I forget once in a while, I apologize ahead of time. Its unusual to be allowed to use a first name, but I am grateful for it." For all that Henry wanted to forget that she was property, Mareka never would. Such was the life of a slave in Prime, regardless if she was created of her masters loins by his wife's handmaiden. The girl worked diligently, finishing the meal and then laying it out for him. She was pleased he seemed to enjoy it. She found too that the conversation with him was pleasant. He didn't treat her like slave, but more like company, which was a nice change. He told her a little about himself, and as he worked, she did likewise.

"I'm sixteen. Dean Dolgram is my father, and my mother is Trea Dalson, his wife's handmaiden. Thats why I'm not free. But its alright, he wasn't a bad man to work for. His wife takes a bit of tiptoeing around. Did he tell you much about me?" The girls shyness seemed to evaporate as Henry displayed such a friendly attitude. She even found herself watching him curiously as he took off his shirt and began sanding. "You know, that sanding is something I can do while your at work tomorrow. The Dean told me how hard you work. It doesn't seem fair that you work all day and come back here to work at the house, when things such as this I can do." She said softly, referring to the sanding, not wanting to tell Henry what to do, but wanting him to understand she was quite capable. Then she joined him for the meal when he asked her too, and he found himself across the table from something he'd been missing at quite a few meals lately... engaging company at meal times, whether they conversed or not.

As she was cleaning the dishes, he bumped her, and she had to grab at his waist to keep from falling. Before he could take himself away, she looked up at him and met his gaze. "You know, I'm here for this too. The Dean was very explicit in his instructions. And... well, your a very nice man, Henry. I wouldn't mind. It's part of my training. I really want to be useful to you, in all ways. It is something I'd enjoy." She added, leaving him no question in his mind what 'this' was by shyly trailing her hands down his arms, and allowing the position they were in... pressed together, to continue.

The Dean had said Henry would probably be shy, reluctant, and have misgivings about her being his gift. However, she also had instructions from The Dean. They were specific, and if the past was any inclination, she'd know acutely if she failed by additional marks on her back. It was already scarred, much like any slaves would be. And she was afraid if she didn't do her duty and make Henry completely and irreversibly attached to her, she'd have to go back to the Dolgram Manor, or worse yet, face Dean Dolgram's wrath.

So she waited for Henry's response...

And then, as the night approached, Mareka pulled out the hip bath and heated water for herself on the stove. When it was ready, she stripped off her things and stepped into the hip bath. Henry had disappeared into the bedroom, presumably to get ready for bed. And while she didn't wash her hair, she stood in the shallow basin and washed the rest of herself thoroughly. She was fastidiously clean, and wanted to remain that way. When she was done, she wrapped a light cotton wrapper around her, did not belt it having no natural shyness due to her social position, and slipped into the bedroom. "Henry? There's still hot water if you'd like to bathe. Or shall I throw it out? And do you want help?" She said, peeking around the curtain to see if he was about.

[Henry Brightblade]

As Makera talked while he brushed the floorboards down to a nice grain, he smiled. Then he heard her ask about the sanding and he stopped for a moment, looking up at Makera, he brushed his forearm across his forehead to rid him of the sweat that was building up. She stood there with her thread bare shift, hands dirty from cooking, and her fiery hair tamed back only by a rag that laid itself on her brow. She stood there questioning about her position and what she was capable of doing, and Henry just looked at her in the candle light enjoying the shadows playing across her shift.

“Makera, I have no doubt that you are capable of this small task, but I need these things to remember that I am not some fool born to pen down reports and memo’s. I need this to know that I did something today to improve my… our life. I told you about my father and my stepfather. Both were men that worked all day, but in the end the stopped and took time for them selves to improve the place they lived in. It’s important that I can say that. Now if you come back and go over all the boards I have done, well I won’t stop you because you probably could do a better job then myself. Yet, let me have this small win at the end of the day, tomorrow night I might practice the rapier instead.”

It was the flicker of the candle that dance within the light his eyes as bowed back to his work. He felt that he needed to do chores and keep busy, the day didn’t seem complete without some visual improvement. And he could order Mareka to do all these things that he wanted, but in the end Henry would slip away into something that just ordered others to do the work. He didn’t want that to happen… he didn’t want that to happen with Mareka…

The moment that Mareka laid hands onto his strong forearms, he felt like an almost intense wave of pleasure radiated up his arms. Slowly Henry drew in a deep hot breath. Along with it came the hint of being that defined Mareka. Part of it was from her chores and yet a part of it was just her, that simple yet unexplainable scent of the young woman in his arms. Henry felt his hands move to place the dishes on the counter, as he did so his biceps moved against Mareka’s frame. The felt the rough ridges of her lower ribs and the slow came upward. As his arms moved the thin slip that Mareka wore grew tight about her frame.

Henry leaned into Mareka, her body and slight frame starting to truly press into the Henry bare chest. Small curly brown hair was over his tanned chest going down his tight stomach. He could feel Mareka’s frame against his, her slight and thin body separate by only a thin sheet of cloth. The heat that came from his body mingled threw the cloth to feel her. Henry’s heart started to increase and spill through out his body.

As Henry let go of the dishes and placed a single hand upon the small of Mareka’s back. He let his fingers very delicately trace up Mareka’s spine. His other hand was firmly planted on the counter for support as he bent his face down to Mareka’s for a single kiss. As he came closer Henry felt his breath spill briefly over Mareka’s mouth. He felt her lean up to return the kiss as he came so close that not even a finger’s width separated their mouths.

But then he stopped, Henry hadn’t realized that his eyes were closed but now that he had opened them he stared into the closed eyes of Mareka. “Your father told you to do this?!” Henry’s voice was filled with disbelief, as if the thought hadn’t crossed his mind before this. “What else did he say to do for me?!” His voice was starting to rise in anger. Henry moved away from there closeness as his mind began to clear.

“I suppose it’s my right!” Henry spoke in anger and his voice dripped with sarcasm. “I suppose I could do whatever I wished with your body heedless of what ever painful screams came from you! And who would stop me? It is my right!” Henry started to close his eyes and lean against the counter, he needed to control his anger, he started to take deep breaths. His passion had gotten the better of him. He had wanted Mareka to want him like a woman wanting a man. She instead in her own mind was offering what was his be the pure direction of her owner.

Slowly Henry turned towards Mareka, the anger left from his voice and frame. “Makera, I won’t do this with you. My body wants to, but I won’t do that. I can’t just take you, because it’s your job, nor will I do it because you’re my property. I won’t do this because in truth I would rather have you, not just the physical bit, but the whole you. For when we move in rhythm I want it to be as one, not as some dog mounting another.” Henry couldn’t stand the look in her eyes, was it judgment or pain? Either one he couldn’t look at, and so he returned to his work…

Henry thought about the bath water as he pulled up his cloth sleeping bottoms. Aye he wouldn’t mind a good soak to just let his mind unwrapped around the day and shock of now having a young beautiful woman to live with.

As Henry turned fastening his drawn string on the pants he saw a pair of green eyes peeking from behind the cloth. Henry had opened the only window in the apartment to all the little bit of moon light from the sky. It now glowed off his body as he went over to the cloth. His pants were thin enough to allow the outline of lower body to be seen. He hadn’t much thought about it since most nights he slept alone, and as he pulled back the cloth to see the small beautiful Makera in a cloth wrap he felt once again the beating of his heart and the tautness that came with it.

“Yes Makera that was thoughtful of you. I will take a bath while you go to sleep…”

[Gossamer]

Mareka watched her new Master, one who wanted her to call him Henry, and a million thoughts went through her head. Was he fooling himself as to what she was? Was he against slavery? She heard that there were people like that in the world. Never, personally, had she met one, but she figured it took all kinds to populate the world and surely there were a few of those too. And then he spoke, and she smiled.

"You need to remember you are a man, you mean? You don't need to sand floors to do that, Henry. You deserve time to relax, to be pampered. You worked hard. It doesn't matter if your sanding floors or doing Dean Dolgram's work. Being what you are is a thing that comes from inside, not from the way your earn your money. My kind know that." She said softly, moving about. It was a pleasant house, she had decided early on. He ate the meal like he enjoyed it, and didn't throw food or tell her that her fair was too simple.

She noticed, almost immediately, the lack of what she thought was real tension. There was tension between them, but not the same kind that robbed her sleep back at the manor house. Her new Master had hangups. But she had orders. And she was starting to think, slowly, that regardless of what Dolgram wanted, she was the one that was going to benefit from the new situation. Mareka had freedom, a really nice man to serve, and time all to herself during the day when she could do whatever she wished as long as the chores got done. And the thing about having such a small place to live, chores were easy and done quickly.

Her thoughts had her attention almost completely, so the bump was unexpected, but it gave her a chance to get closer to him. He smelled clean, and when she looked up to meet his eyes, she saw the fire in them. It sent a shiver through her, that only got worse as his hand trailed up her spine. He bent to kiss her, and her bright green eyes widened. She wanted that kiss. She wanted it badly. Henry was a big man, and she pressed closer... feeling like she aught to be scared. But he hestiated, and she sought to reassure him. This was what she was supposed to do. This is what the Dean instructed. She was to make Henry love her, make him need her, make him a tool completely to his desires so he'd always be in The Dean's control. Her father's control.

The he grew angry, snapped, and she pressed back, into the counter, her eyes widening in fear. Did he have such thoughts? Was this the real man? She hadn't been here long enough to really know. Mareka glanced at his hands, one flat on the counter, the other fisted at his side... and she was afraid. Very afraid.

Then he turned, gained control, and turned back. His words shamed her. She dropped her head, long red locks falling forward like a splash of captured flame tethered to Telath unable to rise heavenward to dance as flames aught too. Her hair concealed her features. He was right. What did that make her? She might be a slave, but she should have some semblance of honor. Instead, she had none. She was worse than the Dean, worse than all of them that just wanted Henry as yet another tool.

And so, she did the only thing she could think of, because the silence was drowning her, and the accusations in her own heart. "He wants to own you, body and soul. Like he owns me. He thinks if you loose yourself in me, I can be a tool to control you. He doesn't want you thinking, he wants you like that dog you refer too; mindless, and with a scent in your nose. He told me to do anything to make you love me. He told me to seduce you, find out all the things you like, and make sure you never had a reason to leave home again. His group is planning on killing people high up in the government. He needs scapegoats and security nets. You are to be one of those. He cares, but he goes about things the wrong way and his caring is sick and twisted. Don't let him do what he plans. And don't give any thought to me. Use me for what I'm here for. To help. And let that be it. We are a crown a dozen, Henry, and you can replace me in a heartbeat with someone who is even more beautiful and far less tainted." She said softly, firmly, without looking up.

The night passed by quickly, even faster than she figured it would. Her bath was quick, and when she decided to ask him to if he wanted to use the rest of the water, she hadn't thought she'd see all of him like she did when she peaked around the corner. It caught her breath and she stared. Her eyes traveled up and down his form, which she found... absolutely beautiful. She had no idea how long she stood there staring at him. He was backlit by the moonlight streaming in through the windows... and it took her quite a few breaths.

In that moment, before Henry spoke and broke the spell, she hated her father, hated her slavery, and hated all the reasons why she'd never let Henry near her heart.

She climbed into her makeshift bed as he bathed, and listened in the dark as he did a proper job of it. Then later, he returned back to his bed, and climbed in. She listened for quite a while... quite a long while but his breathing never leveled out. Neither did hers. The night grew long, and the wind through the window turned to chill. After a while, when it was quiet but neither of them were sleeping, she asked softly into the dark...

"Henry...Can I join you? Neither of us are sleeping. I'd... well...." She said nothing more. She rose, not intending what perhaps he thought she was. And with that she tiptoed the four feet to his place and lifted the blanket. She slipped in with him, at his back, and curled there finding more comfort in numbers than she ever would alone.

Slowly, she started to speak... she didn't want him to get the wrong idea. "When I was small I slept with my sisters. I have five of them. We are all halfs, though I think I was lucky because I'm the middle one. When your in the middle, no one remembers you like they do the first or the last. I've never had to be alone before. Dolgram isn't a bad Master... he always made sure we had food and a warm place to sleep, medicine when we were sick, and money to spend when it was a holiday... a little at least." With that, she rubbed her cheek against his back, and draped an arm loosely around his waist. "I'd like to know you better Henry... about where you come from and where you want to go. I don't want any of this tension to continue. Before we can have peace, we need a semblance of friendship... a common ground. And no blanket hanging from the ceiling over a rope."

And then she shifted against him once more, and he could feel her exhaustion because she stretched, pressing against him, then yawned into the back of his neck, near his ear. And before he could answer her question, she was asleep, trustingly... like a warm cat curled in the small of his back.

In the morning, when he woke, the spot behind him was still warm, but his bedroom was filled with a strange smell. Coffee was brewing. Bread was baking. It smelled delicious. Almost as good as the warm apple blossom smell on his pillow. As he rose, he saw clean clothes laid out, and the makeshift bed beside his own was tidy and neat. He small apartment was clean, orderly, and .... though he couldn't quite put his foot on it....

.... somehow far more welcoming than ever. It was as if his body was glad to get up, glad to greet the day, and eager for the newness that surrounded him. Breakfast was simple, delicious, and though Mareka didn't say much, she smiled a lot and seemed far less nervous than the night before. She followed him out on his way to work, and hit the market he pointed out for her as he parted her company. Mareka gave him a quick hug, a peck on his cheek, and a promise to have something ready for him when he got home... something called pirogies.

And for her the rest of the day was magical. She wandered the allotted six blocks, window shopping, her precious key tucked into her pocket. Around noon she crumbled a crust of bread for the ducks in a small park and found herself quietly crying on the edge of the fountain. She wasn't sure why... perhaps it was because even though she'd been in her situation in less than a day... she was happy... very happy.

She gave her tears a few minutes. Then she rose, and headed back to her new place. She had a meal to cook, a new male to take care of... and someone she felt might be worthy of a little bit of friendship. Perhaps, even love.

[Henry Brightblade]

And so, she did the only thing she could think of, because the silence was drowning her, and the accusations in her own heart.

"He wants to own you, body and soul. Like he owns me. He thinks if you loose yourself in me, I can be a tool to control you. He doesn't want you thinking, he wants you like that dog you refer too; mindless, and with a scent in your nose. He told me to do anything to make you love me. He told me to seduce you, find out all the things you like, and make sure you never had a reason to leave home again. His group is planning on killing people high up in the government. He needs scapegoats and security nets. You are to be one of those. He cares, but he goes about things the wrong way and his caring is sick and twisted. Don't let him do what he plans. And don't give any thought to me. Use me for what I'm here for. To help. And let that be it. We are a crown a dozen, Henry, and you can replace me in a heartbeat with someone who is even more beautiful and far less tainted."She said softly, firmly, without looking up.

Henry went over to the small fiery redhead. His hand slowly cleared the hair from her face as he looked down into the pale and freckled skin. His fingertips brushed her temples as he hooked the few red strands of hair behind her ears. He felt the delicate ear lobes softly, as he came closer once again. Yet this time his closeness wasn’t sexual in nature, for he bent down and merely softly kissed her forehead and he pulled her in for a hug.

Henry wasn’t sure what this would accomplish. He felt like this broken woman needed the feeling that he was close too her and knew the horror of what she just relieved. Maybe the hug was reassuring her that she was now with Henry and Henry didn’t want her to be a slave. Maybe the hug was for both of them, for what she had said spoke deeply to the core of Henry and he was frighten. If the dean was willing to kill high government officials and was willing to whore his daughter, slave or not, then what else was the Dean capable of? Henry needed to find out, get proof and go straight with to the city guards.

Slowly, his right hand that reassuringly stroke Mareka back between her shoulders blades stopped, and Henry left had that had put pressure on the small of Mareka’s back ease away. He wondered if Mareka had her his heartbeat with her face pressed against his chest. His on face had rested upon the top of her head, he had need the feel like she was wrapped up in him and he had needed to feel every bit of her against him. It was comfortable with holding one another, and slowly Henry let go to get dressed.

Right before Henry went back he took the chance to stroke Mareka’s face lovingly. There was a part of him that wanted to keep touching her skin, to feel it forever, and yet he knew that he couldn’t do it for no other reason then it would send the wrong message. Yet Henry had no idea what message he wanted to send, and so he stopped himself and turned away from Mareka to go change.

"Henry...Can I join you? Neither of us are sleeping. I'd... well

...." She said nothing more. She rose, not intending what perhaps he thought she was. And with that she tiptoed the four feet to his place and lifted the blanket. She slipped in with him, at his back, and curled there finding more comfort in numbers than she ever would alone.

Slowly, she started to speak... she didn't want him to get the wrong idea. "When I was small I slept with my sisters. I have five of them. We are all halfs, though I think I was lucky because I'm the middle one. When your in the middle, no one remembers you like they do the first or the last. I've never had to be alone before. Dolgram isn't a bad Master... he always made sure we had food and a warm place to sleep, medicine when we were sick, and money to spend when it was a holiday... a little at least." With that, she rubbed her cheek against his back, and draped an arm loosely around his waist."I'd like to know you better Henry... about where you come from and where you want to go. I don't want any of this tension to continue. Before we can have peace, we need a semblance of friendship... a common ground. And no blanket hanging from the ceiling over a rope."

And then she shifted against him once more, and he could feel her exhaustion because she stretched, pressing against him, then yawned into the back of his neck, near his ear. And before he could answer her question, she was asleep, trustingly... like a warm cat curled in the small of his back.

Henry hadn’t known what to say so as he came to bed with him he felt her body start to press closer to his. He loved the feel of it, for something very primal about two bodies pressed together in the darkness lent to a deep sense of companionship. So he listened to Mareka, she hadn’t needed to say anything really, Henry was glad that he had someone like her in his life. She wouldn’t love him, he started to realize that, but Henry needed that feeling of support, because tomorrow he went to war with the Dean. A war that Henry would win, and that he would take Mareka and her half sisters from him.

As she drifted off to sleep Henry waited for a moment and then shifted so that he was staring at the ceiling. The sleeping form of Mareka changed her position draping an arm over Henry torso and resting her head on Henry chest. Henry felt Mareka’s heartbeat, and enjoyed the sensation of her tiny form pressed against him. Softly Henry allowed his left arm to pull Mareka closer into and embrace. While his right hand felt the soft skin of her forearm. Quietly, he reviewed in his head the events that he needed to do.

Henry would have to go into work tomorrow and make sure that the Dean thought he was utter indispensable. However, Henry would need to keep notes and somehow find ways to store documents of the plot against the government.

In the morning, when he woke, the spot behind him was still warm, but his bedroom was filled with a strange smell. Coffee was brewing. Bread was baking. It smelled delicious. Almost as good as the warm apple blossom smell on his pillow. As he rose, he saw clean clothes laid out, and the makeshift bed beside his own was tidy and neat. He small apartment was clean, orderly, and .... though he couldn't quite put his foot on it....

Henry dressed quickly feeling better rested, and as he came out into the kitchen seeing Mareka quietly watching something, he quietly walked up behind her. Henry placed a soft embrace about her, moving his hands across her hips and finally resting on her lower belly. He place his head down resting his chin upon her right shoulder.

“Mareka it all smells wonderful. Thank you for it all.”Henry couldn’t help himself and planted a small kiss on her cheek. Henry choose to eat and drink his meal within arms length of Mareka, at times he smiled and simply moved with her, touching her at times or at other times just looking into her eyes and smiling.

He knew the time had come and finally they left together. Henry stopped at the market and told her where some of the better vendors were, and then he hurried off to work. To her father. To a murder. To a criminal. He was about to go into battle, but at times all he could think about was apple blossoms.