Boudica
English Yao Ming
[ Rated 18+ for possible violent and sexual situations in later chapters - but enjoy nonetheless 
]
The room was small, damp, dimly lit and had an scent of earth and rancid vegetables - but this was the only place that the man would agree to come to, and, as she settled himself down opposite him, Ariella understood why. If this vampire, this 'slave', was found talking as though an equal to a member of the masters family, he would be flayed within inches of his life. In fact, the pale man already looked as though he was knocking at deaths door - his white skin was just starting to recover to the latest round of beatings, the long blonde hair was bedraggled and the strands, (that were too short to remain in the rawhide band that tied the majority back), hung limply at the sides of his face - only slightly framing that handsome face that had undergone such stress and labour that it looked tightly drawn over his bones, eyes a dim, dull blue and mouth a thin, pale line that seemed set in a permanent saddened line. The only cover he had was that to conceal his lower body (for the sake of the women of the house) - a pair of worn sack trousers and thin hide boots and the resulting nakedness of his torso made evident his malnutrition - with his ribs pressed against the skin insistently and the his state of undeath was apparent in the lack of rise and fall of the chest; which remained as still as the atmosphere in the storeroom of the slave quarters.
The candle which she placed on the table both illuminated both of their faces to each other, but also cast gaunt shadows underneath the vampires eyes and within his hollow cheeks - giving him a most ghastly appearance. He was on punishment for 'disobedience' (as her father called it), but all she had seen from her high window at the time, was this vampire, the one across from her recovering from the vicious lashes, taking the burden of a fellow slave when he had collapsed and couldn't carry anymore. But the overseer had been insistent that each slave carry their own quota of masonry and that had led to an 'argument' which had resulted to equal lashing for the pair of them…the one sat across from her being the only one who survived that brutal encounter.
His eyes followed her as she settled herself with a few shifts upon the seat, and she would be lying if she wasn't unnerved by his rather dead gaze.
They sat in silence for a while, just looking at each other - brown eyes meeting blue in the flicker of the candlelight - her hands upon her lap, his between his knees - however, she found his poise and his direct gaze possessing a strength and dignity that was lacked even in the current nobility that she found herself a part of - it belonged to an ancient age, a past time when character mattered more than material wealth. In the end, she found that she averted her eyes first - unable to hold such a powerful look with the battered (but not broken) being that sat on the low wooden stool across from her. The one that should have been her inferior.
"So…" she started tentatively, brushing out the creases in her dress to find some way to provide excuse for not looking at him again just yet - however she could feel his eyes boring into her body and her own mind was critical of her choice of dress for the occasion (which she mentally justified by reasoning that her father wouldn't believe she was going into the city to do some shopping otherwise) - seeing it as ridiculous frills and pomp when contrasted with his simple, impoverished garb.
He remained silent, the stem of her sentence lingering and dying in the stagnant air between them - making her breathing quicken and her heart stutter a little in her chest. She had the intention of allowing him a release of sorts, she wanted to learn of him, and had been innately curious of him ever since her father had brought him back from market and set him to work in the house - until he had been punished by being moved to work in the quarries with the other dross.
She wanted to know why he had been so valued in the first place, and she would also be lying if she hadn't found him somewhat attractive - even if that attraction was forbidden…
"What is it you command of me…" he broke the silence, his voice cracked and dry, but one could tell that it was once smooth, as there were still remnants of an ancient power and command in his broken tone. Ariella swallowed, suddenly feeling cold and as if a cold stone had been dropped into her stomach. But she gathered her wits, rectified herself as the daughter of one of the most powerful lords in the land, and surrounded herself with her own aura of chilled power. But she was surprised (despite later telling herself that she shouldn't have been), that the vampire didn't seem to be affected by this demeanour that sent most men, from the lowliest slave to the most self-assured suitor, cold from intimidation. He merely kept his eyes upon her, his quietly saddened expression remaining where it was.
"I command of…" She stopped, and her demeanour softened (it must have been seeming quite ridiculous when the target wasn't affected by it), and her back slumped a little on her own little stool - leaning forwards in earnest with a slight sad smile.
"I ask of you…to tell me about yourself…how you came to be here…"
Now, it was the vampires turn to look a little shocked, there was a slight widening of the eyes and a dilation of the dull pupils - but it only made his skin seem to pull tauter over the bone frame underneath and his face quickly relapsed into that worn visage - with the crow's feet at the corner of those sad pools and dark circles beneath them.
"Excuse me Lady…but you're family rarely asks anything - if I were to refuse, you would just have me flogged until I gave you what you wanted…"
The tables had turned again with such little words, Ariella was taken aback by his boldness that he didn't seem to mean as a transgression but had just come across as such - despite using the formality of 'lady' - but still, they kept their eyes on each other.
"I would do no such thing…I am not my father's daughter…" she sighed, rubbing her forearms against the sudden chill in drafty room which had caused gooseflesh to raise on the fair skin that had seen little strain of manual matters in its entire twenty eight years; just plenty of preening and care which came as her duty as a nobleman's daughter.
She could suddenly feel his gaze change upon her, as if studying her rather than just looking, and she hid her startled feelings beneath a calm façade…but no doubt her saw through that as well…His blue eyes barely moved, but she could see the little movements, the little twitching jerks of the iris within the confines of its milky yellow sclera and she didn't chastise, but allowed him to - after all, hadn't she done this earlier, and he had shown no protest…or any signs of discomfort at least…
"No, you're not are you…" was all he said finally, but his poise remained proud and unbent - back straight, but hands still clamped between his knees . He wasn't much of a talker, Ariella finalized, and decided she would have to start small instead of poising a huge canvassing question at the first hurdle.
"Where do you hail from?"
"The North…Skyrim…"
"So, you are Nord?"
"Yes."
"What is your name?"
"Stoneback"
"No…your real name…"
He hesitated, as if he were considering whether or not to reveal a piece of incredibly important, top secret information.
"Abel Ulfsson…"
Well, Ariella gave her slight, harmless smile, considered reaching out to lay a soft hand on the scuffed knee of his trousers (but reconsidered just as she was about to) and instead, laid a hand over her heart to show a physical sign of her following sincerity;
"My name is Ariella Callidus…" then she gave a small, grim laugh, "although you probably already know that…there isn't much that you don't know about me and my family I supposed…and I bet all of it isn't too grand…"
The vampire didn't respond to her dark, self-depreciating humour, and she suddenly felt uncomfortable again - as though she didn't know what she was doing here or even why she was…
Thankfully, (and totally unexpectedly), Abel saved her from drowning in this stunted social situation, and he shifted his poise - shoulder back, as if there was something to support his back in the thin air behind him.
"Why do you wish to know of me Lady…"
"Curiosity…" she answered before she could stop herself and think of a better reason - but she couldn't pull back the words that now hung in the air, on trial and awaiting his judgement.
"Curiosity…" he repeated quietly, although the words seemed to fill the whole storeroom to her ears, as one would when awaiting a verdict, and she breathed a visible sigh of relief when he held her gaze with those solemn eyes and his eyebrows creased his brow;
"It is as good a reason as any…and an honest one - where is it you wish me to start Lady Callidus?"
"Please…call me Ariella…"
"Where is it you wish me to begin…Ariella…"
She knew exactly where she wanted him to begin his tale;
"From the beginning…"
]The room was small, damp, dimly lit and had an scent of earth and rancid vegetables - but this was the only place that the man would agree to come to, and, as she settled himself down opposite him, Ariella understood why. If this vampire, this 'slave', was found talking as though an equal to a member of the masters family, he would be flayed within inches of his life. In fact, the pale man already looked as though he was knocking at deaths door - his white skin was just starting to recover to the latest round of beatings, the long blonde hair was bedraggled and the strands, (that were too short to remain in the rawhide band that tied the majority back), hung limply at the sides of his face - only slightly framing that handsome face that had undergone such stress and labour that it looked tightly drawn over his bones, eyes a dim, dull blue and mouth a thin, pale line that seemed set in a permanent saddened line. The only cover he had was that to conceal his lower body (for the sake of the women of the house) - a pair of worn sack trousers and thin hide boots and the resulting nakedness of his torso made evident his malnutrition - with his ribs pressed against the skin insistently and the his state of undeath was apparent in the lack of rise and fall of the chest; which remained as still as the atmosphere in the storeroom of the slave quarters.
The candle which she placed on the table both illuminated both of their faces to each other, but also cast gaunt shadows underneath the vampires eyes and within his hollow cheeks - giving him a most ghastly appearance. He was on punishment for 'disobedience' (as her father called it), but all she had seen from her high window at the time, was this vampire, the one across from her recovering from the vicious lashes, taking the burden of a fellow slave when he had collapsed and couldn't carry anymore. But the overseer had been insistent that each slave carry their own quota of masonry and that had led to an 'argument' which had resulted to equal lashing for the pair of them…the one sat across from her being the only one who survived that brutal encounter.
His eyes followed her as she settled herself with a few shifts upon the seat, and she would be lying if she wasn't unnerved by his rather dead gaze.
They sat in silence for a while, just looking at each other - brown eyes meeting blue in the flicker of the candlelight - her hands upon her lap, his between his knees - however, she found his poise and his direct gaze possessing a strength and dignity that was lacked even in the current nobility that she found herself a part of - it belonged to an ancient age, a past time when character mattered more than material wealth. In the end, she found that she averted her eyes first - unable to hold such a powerful look with the battered (but not broken) being that sat on the low wooden stool across from her. The one that should have been her inferior.
"So…" she started tentatively, brushing out the creases in her dress to find some way to provide excuse for not looking at him again just yet - however she could feel his eyes boring into her body and her own mind was critical of her choice of dress for the occasion (which she mentally justified by reasoning that her father wouldn't believe she was going into the city to do some shopping otherwise) - seeing it as ridiculous frills and pomp when contrasted with his simple, impoverished garb.
He remained silent, the stem of her sentence lingering and dying in the stagnant air between them - making her breathing quicken and her heart stutter a little in her chest. She had the intention of allowing him a release of sorts, she wanted to learn of him, and had been innately curious of him ever since her father had brought him back from market and set him to work in the house - until he had been punished by being moved to work in the quarries with the other dross.
She wanted to know why he had been so valued in the first place, and she would also be lying if she hadn't found him somewhat attractive - even if that attraction was forbidden…
"What is it you command of me…" he broke the silence, his voice cracked and dry, but one could tell that it was once smooth, as there were still remnants of an ancient power and command in his broken tone. Ariella swallowed, suddenly feeling cold and as if a cold stone had been dropped into her stomach. But she gathered her wits, rectified herself as the daughter of one of the most powerful lords in the land, and surrounded herself with her own aura of chilled power. But she was surprised (despite later telling herself that she shouldn't have been), that the vampire didn't seem to be affected by this demeanour that sent most men, from the lowliest slave to the most self-assured suitor, cold from intimidation. He merely kept his eyes upon her, his quietly saddened expression remaining where it was.
"I command of…" She stopped, and her demeanour softened (it must have been seeming quite ridiculous when the target wasn't affected by it), and her back slumped a little on her own little stool - leaning forwards in earnest with a slight sad smile.
"I ask of you…to tell me about yourself…how you came to be here…"
Now, it was the vampires turn to look a little shocked, there was a slight widening of the eyes and a dilation of the dull pupils - but it only made his skin seem to pull tauter over the bone frame underneath and his face quickly relapsed into that worn visage - with the crow's feet at the corner of those sad pools and dark circles beneath them.
"Excuse me Lady…but you're family rarely asks anything - if I were to refuse, you would just have me flogged until I gave you what you wanted…"
The tables had turned again with such little words, Ariella was taken aback by his boldness that he didn't seem to mean as a transgression but had just come across as such - despite using the formality of 'lady' - but still, they kept their eyes on each other.
"I would do no such thing…I am not my father's daughter…" she sighed, rubbing her forearms against the sudden chill in drafty room which had caused gooseflesh to raise on the fair skin that had seen little strain of manual matters in its entire twenty eight years; just plenty of preening and care which came as her duty as a nobleman's daughter.
She could suddenly feel his gaze change upon her, as if studying her rather than just looking, and she hid her startled feelings beneath a calm façade…but no doubt her saw through that as well…His blue eyes barely moved, but she could see the little movements, the little twitching jerks of the iris within the confines of its milky yellow sclera and she didn't chastise, but allowed him to - after all, hadn't she done this earlier, and he had shown no protest…or any signs of discomfort at least…
"No, you're not are you…" was all he said finally, but his poise remained proud and unbent - back straight, but hands still clamped between his knees . He wasn't much of a talker, Ariella finalized, and decided she would have to start small instead of poising a huge canvassing question at the first hurdle.
"Where do you hail from?"
"The North…Skyrim…"
"So, you are Nord?"
"Yes."
"What is your name?"
"Stoneback"
"No…your real name…"
He hesitated, as if he were considering whether or not to reveal a piece of incredibly important, top secret information.
"Abel Ulfsson…"
Well, Ariella gave her slight, harmless smile, considered reaching out to lay a soft hand on the scuffed knee of his trousers (but reconsidered just as she was about to) and instead, laid a hand over her heart to show a physical sign of her following sincerity;
"My name is Ariella Callidus…" then she gave a small, grim laugh, "although you probably already know that…there isn't much that you don't know about me and my family I supposed…and I bet all of it isn't too grand…"
The vampire didn't respond to her dark, self-depreciating humour, and she suddenly felt uncomfortable again - as though she didn't know what she was doing here or even why she was…
Thankfully, (and totally unexpectedly), Abel saved her from drowning in this stunted social situation, and he shifted his poise - shoulder back, as if there was something to support his back in the thin air behind him.
"Why do you wish to know of me Lady…"
"Curiosity…" she answered before she could stop herself and think of a better reason - but she couldn't pull back the words that now hung in the air, on trial and awaiting his judgement.
"Curiosity…" he repeated quietly, although the words seemed to fill the whole storeroom to her ears, as one would when awaiting a verdict, and she breathed a visible sigh of relief when he held her gaze with those solemn eyes and his eyebrows creased his brow;
"It is as good a reason as any…and an honest one - where is it you wish me to start Lady Callidus?"
"Please…call me Ariella…"
"Where is it you wish me to begin…Ariella…"
She knew exactly where she wanted him to begin his tale;
"From the beginning…"
