A Slave In Rome

[sojournerwolf]

I watch as Portia leaves me. It is all I can do not to gape in foolish amazement. She sees, this one, sees deeper and further than any woman I have ever known. Yes, I want her, want to ravage her body until she screams for me to stop...and make love to her until she begs me for more.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and finding myself alone, I walk back to my quarters. I pass Otto in the corridor. He has been eavesdropping, I know, for I can see the anger in his face. I grin like a wolf and brush past him.

I pass Cornelia's room and for a moment, pause. I can sense she is not alone. I know this is not the time, not yet. Thinking more clearly now, I recall the confusion I felt in her. Izak? I wonder on this as I walk away.

Within my room, I stare for a long, long time at the moon, but this is the Roman moon, their Artemis, and she sends me no answers, merely shafts of silvery light like arrows which pierce me in a place I thought protected.

[Edited by sojournerwolf on 05-11-2001 at 11:37 PM]

 

[dansemajik]

I can't sleep. It is nearly dawn, and I am troubled by what I had read. I gather my robes to me, and I make my way to Britannicus' room. I carry the scroll in my hand.

I walk in boldly. I catch him anawares staring out the window.

I put my hand on his shoulder, and I say to him, "why did they do this to you?"

 

[sojournerwolf]

Lost in my thoughts, I do not hear Portia enter. It is not until she touches my shoulder I am aware of her presence. The arena reflexes are swift as i turn, steeping back into a crouch, ready to fight. Seeing her there, bathed in moonlight, I could almost believe the goddess herself has descended to me.

Drawing a ragged breath, I straighten. Fear had glimmered in her eyes but briefly, then was gone. I think she understands the danger within me, but it is not a danger which would make her cower.

"Mistress," I murmmur and bow slightly. Oddly, I feel no mockery within myself at the gesture this time. A trick of the moonlight, I tell myself, this feeling of reverence...so I tell myself.

I notice the scroll in her hand. "You have been reading of my land?" I ask.

She nods.

"Then you know, the Roman province of Britain has always been an uneasy one. Though claudius did indeed make headway there, many are the tribes that do not accept Roman rule. We have a fierce pride as a people, a warrior race unused to the trappings of civilization.

"My...father," it is all I can do not to spit that word out of my mouth as a sour taste. "He was chief of a Western tribe, one which in our tongue means the mountain eagles. He made an alliznce early with the Romans. They trusted him. As his second son, I was given as hostagein the traditional manner. As part of that treaty, I was to be trained and educated in the ways of Rome as well as our own. It was planned that eventually, I would be given parole and come to Rome to serve as a liasion between our peoples.

"I know not why, even to this day, my father broke the treaty. Perhaps some of his fellow chiefs who did not care for the Romans threatened to make war against him. Perhaps he grew weary and angry with roman arrogance and their regard of us as less than they. Perhaps he felt there was some gain to be made. I do not know why, only that he did.

"It was on a night shortly after I passed my sixteenth year, the year young men of your people don the toga praxilia, and are declared men. I was asleep when, when..."

My throat tightens at the memories. I choke upon the words, bitter as gall in my throat. My hands clench at my sides and the old rage and pain threatens to consume me...for the moment, I cannot go on, but close my eyes and try to breath...

 

[dansemajik]

I approach him, sensing the emotions overtaking him. Even to this day, so many years later, the surpise, and appalling fact that someone dear to him betrayed him, the rage at the simple unnecessity for it.

I hands reach up to grip his shoulders, I pull him to me. I know he does not want my roman touch, or the comfort of a woman who is in fact his owner. but I tug him to my breash anyway, and I run my hands through is hair, marveling at the soft thickness of it.

I feel him stiffen against me as if suddenly aware of the act of kindness I was bestowing on him. It was not out of pity, or any misguided sense that was maternal. I simply felt his pain.

I put my finger to his lips, while looking in his eyes and shook my head, telling him to not speak.

Something passed between us, something that sizzled the air.

 

[sojournerwolf]

I feel her touch and it startles me. She draws me to her and for the moment, I am tempted...but no, I will accept no ones pity, no matter how strongly I wish to bury my face within her sweet smelling breasts and feel her arms around me.

I look into her eyes, hard words forming on my lips...but they die. There is no pity in those eyes. A depth of comapssion, but also a recognition of my pride.

My resistance melts, perhaps it is the hour, perhaps it is that this has too long been locked away within...I do what no slave should ever do without the permission of his mistress. I let my lips touch hers, not savagely as before, but with a tenderness I did not know I possessed. I draw her to me, and for the moment, feeling her heart beat against my chest, I know a contentment as never before and a gratitude I did not know I could possess..

 

[dansemajik]

I felt him pull me to him. And something happened to me.
I had never let anyone this close to me. He held me to him, for the longest time we stood that way. Two people, from two different worlds standing on common ground.

 

[sojournerwolf]

I feel Portia's tension within my arms, against my chest. For a moment, I feel as if she might pull away. Yes, I have gone too far, I think. I have crossed the boundaries that should not be crossed between mistress and slave though my birth and blood is at least the equal of hers, though from another place.

I ignore the faint question in my mind. When did I accept her as my owner and mistress? Though I have been a slave many years, I have never truly acknowledged that anyone owned me. And yet, now, it comes to me, uncomfortably for sure, but it feels...certain.

Slowly, I let my hands fall, though not without gently caressing her hips, for there is still much of the rebel in me. I step back and for the first time without being forced, I kneel before her.

"I apologize humbly, Mistress," I say, and cannot believe I say these words with sincerity, but do, "if I have overstepped my place. I would not offend you."

I look into her eyes, then...knowing I am hers to do with as she pleases, to command me. And though I know I will still seek my freedom, will somehow, some way once more know what it is to taste the air as a free man...for now, while I am here, I am and will truly be, her slave.

 

[dansemajik]

As he steps away from me asking me what my wishes are, I smile at him. A smile I feel. "Get some sleep Britannicus, we have to prepare for a feast on the morrow. Your first official duty will be to act as my escort. I will have Otto send the tailor to you, and get some proper attire for you.

I stepped back to him, lying my palm on the side of his face. "you are a mystery to me Britannicus."

Then I made my way to my rooms, the impression of his strong arms around me still firm in my mind.

 

[sojournerwolf]

BRITANNICUS: CHARACTER UP FOR GRABS. Have at it whomever wants it.