Hell of a pair

Chapter 1

A match made in hell ?

The girl cringed in her cage, the eyes betraying her. Glowing with the silver of lightning in the darkness. She used her long black hair as a cloak, shielding her face. He could see she had the build of an acrobat, yet she was broken. Years of abuse had turned her as wild as a forest creature.


He approached cautiously, the gypsy camp dark, the fires dying down. He had watched her perform for the carnival...watched as she was forced back into the cage. He had seen those eyes, no life left within them, only a faint spark of hate flaring in the gaze when a whip struck her back. His voice was soft, caressing as he spoke near the cage. "Easy, sweetheart...I will not bite...tell me your name."

She looked towards the voice, the eyes wary, silver gaze meeting ice blue. "I am Nobody."

"No, my sweet...you are most definitely somebody." The male figure looked around, keeping track of who may be nearby. "This is not a good place for one such as you, your blood calls to me."

The voice was broken as she whispered back. "Death is my place, but they will not let me die. This is all I know...all I have ever known. Go away."

“You know, this is also -funny- to hear as you are not the first and probably not the only one in this situation. But I have news for you. Things -could- really change,” he crouched and his eyes roamed the camp as he said it. “Let me show you what is else out there, what is else beyond these very bars you are looking through. Do you never wonder? I mean, when you walk that rope and have that amazing panoramic view, see that horizon...”

He pauzed a moment, giving time to let his words sink in, to permeate her mind. Of course he wasn’t sure if his words matched with her own questions, needs or desires. For a moment he had doubts if this was the right approach. After all, this wasn’t some merchant or customer he was dealing with.
Nevertheless humans, elves, dwarves and even their kin always had that piece within them that made them accessible. The only trick was to find out what it exactly was.

With the right approach he wasn’t only thinking about how he just addressed her. No, it was also about the options he had had before he decided to pick this one. He -could- have approached the gypsies and talked prices, attempting to turn this in to some great business deal. But after seeing this girl’s skills and abilities it was extremely unlikely that even he could get her out as the result of a great bargain.
He -could- just have murdered the gypsies in their sleep before freeing her, but that was beyond his own standards and values. Not only that, there was also a chance of losing that bet and the price would have been simply too high. Fortunately there was another option, that is if the girl was willing enough to cooperate. His eyes shifted back to her. And that was helping her escape. Witnessing her abilties, she sure would be capable enough to sneak out the camp with him. And after that... oh well.
That made him wonder why he was doing this, but not longer than a second. After all, hasn’t he been in a likewise situation? More even, this was kin and they just didn’t deserve this kind of life.

He glanced from the gypsies to an empty prison carriage, and as he did,... to her his dark hair gleamed in the dim light of the campfires. A weak half-smile appeared on his face as a fourth option just crossed his mind. Ice blue eyes searched for hers.

A moment later he slowly rose up to his feet and changed tactics,” Of course, I can also leave and go see for myself what is out there, free other -nobodies-.
Only know this, I won’t be a new master if you come with me.”

Her face showed both fear and longing… her eyes widening as he stood, torchlight highlighting male features that made her heart skip a beat. He was so handsome, so sure of himself. Everything about him showed his arrogance, his self awareness. The ice blue eyes searched her own, seeming to see into the very core of her. His smile held no sadistic glee, no hatred. But then his words sounded in her ears.

All of her life, men had abused her in some form, all of her life she had felt worthless and when he spoke of leaving her a fragile hope was crushed, leaving her looking so vulnerable. He would not wish to be around one such as her. She wanted to beg him not to leave her, to beg him to take her away. She cursed her very existence and wondered why she was cursed to suffer such loneliness and pain.

Her voice was broken, the words choppy with despair. "I would not survive...alone, but....perhaps survival is now the curse....at least I could die free...."

His attention got pulled back to the being in that cage, beautiful, yet hidden under an appearance of acquiescence and dejection. What was this? Couldn’t he just accept it she being a slave? Did he really had to be here?

He never got personal when doing business, he was cold as ice, like the color of his eyes… and this wasn’t even business. Was it then because of what she was? Heck, he had seen female bodies, not one like this though, probably… but that didn’t matter. He -was- used to them.

Then what was it, what is it exactly that had been intriguing him from that first moment he saw her, the moment she stepped on that rope and appeared from the shadows?

During the moments these thoughts crossed his mind, his expression towards her never changed, except perhaps now showing a vague interest in her reaction, very vague.

Cut it out, Lucius, this is -not- a merchant, -nor- a customer. Nooo, this was a magnificent being, just like himself, except she had fallen into the wrong hands.
Go back to hell, Lucius. As a matter of fact, there you can have a dozen of these, all simultanously even if you really want, and all without making your hands dirty.

Still… he didn’t walk away, instead, he turned towards her again and made his choice. He wanted to do this because he was curious about her, and because of what she would be capable off beyond these bars, bars that quashed her abilities. And now he knew what it was he had been admiring except her physical appearance. Maybe he had found her… an equal partner.

Don’t show it to her, Lucius.

His hand disappeared in his pocket only to appear five seconds later, a key between his fingers. He already had stolen it. There was that half-smile again. Just in case...

She was uncertain how it happened, but she found herself astride a black horse, forced to wrap her arms around the strange young man or fall as they raced through the night. The gypsy caravan and carnival that had been her home was left behind, all of it a blur from the moment he had held out that key. Her own form was pressed against his muscular back, her arms tight around his waist. His hair, as black as her own, teasingly brushed against her face and she could inhale a pleasant scent… brandy, brimstone and male.

He felt those arms around him and for a moment he wondered if she was just holding so tight because of the speed of their flight, or maybe because she was holding onto the possibility of a new life, maybe even clinging to it?

No, not yet, it was too early for that. He could imagine she still might be dazed or bewildered after what just took place. A life event you could say actually. He compared it with an example he had witnessed when visiting another gypsy’s festival, a circus. Some boys had set a tiger free… or attempted at least. The ‘wild’ animal just kept walking around in circles, and even remained in the neighborhood of its cage, probably because it had never known otherwise. Of course the girl pressing herself against his back wasn’t an animal, but nevertheless he wondered about the short and long term effects of having a past like hers.

They raced on through the dark night, entering a city and not stopping until they came to an Inn. It was not in the best part of the city, yet the male she was with seemed right at home as he helped her down and whisked her into the tavern of the inn. She was aware of looks, from both male and female eyes. Some were assessing, others a bit hostile as he led her straight into a large suite. He called for a meal and hot water for a bath before just leaning against the door, the ice blue eyes assessing her. His voice was like the purr of a great jungle cat," You never did tell me your name?"

"They call me...nobody...I do not remember my name." She looked everywhere but his eyes, avoiding that gaze, her posture wary and uncertain.

He pushed off from the door, moving to stand in front of her. His hand raised and she flinched, expecting a blow. Instead, warm fingers raised her chin and forced her to look up at him. His other hand brushed the tangled hair from her eyes, ice blue meeting stormy silver. He regarded her steadily. "You need a suitable name...I think I will call you... Yaassima."

"Yaassima..." She whispered the name back to him, trying to look away again. "And what do I call you?"

"Lucius," his voice that low rumble again. Now that he could study that face more closeby than before and in the light of the candle chandelier, and now that he felt that skin with his fingers… it was hard to suppress a feeling that lightly excited him. A feeling comparable during the moments when he had made a really really good deal.

Except… this wasn’t a some business deal, nor some contract...


A knock at the door had him drawing away from her. She stood in the middle of the room as servants brought in a covered tray of food and filled the tub in the corner with hot water. His voice was still soft, but held that edge of command. "You need to bathe… and those clothes need burning… strip."

She blinked a bit, the silvery gaze going wary once more, yet she let the clothing fall from her body, the waist length black hair shielding parts of her. He gave her a gentle push to the large bathtub and she slowly slid into the hot water. A sigh of sheer bliss escaped her as he rummaged in a trunk behind her. He returned, carrying a small case and a brush. The case was opened and a scent was poured into the tub...it was feminine, exotic. She could identify gardenia and a hint of lemon, so unlike the rough baths that she had known.

She jumped when his warm hand touched her shoulder, his voice near her ear.

"Easy, treasure… your hair is tangled." He slowly and patiently began to brush the tangles from the long ebony tresses, working bit by bit, the untangled strands passed over her shoulder. Slowly her back was revealed and she tensed, knowing what he would see. The tanned skin was marred by silvery whip scars and fresh raw welts. She waited for him to recoil, waited for him to move away in disgust, her whole body starting to tremble.

His eyes roamed her back. Heck, this girl had suffered more pain than the average war veteran. Just the sight of that scarred skin was a possible confirmation over another thought about this girl. There was more than meets the eye. She was tough. As he finished the hair, he lowered himself on his knees, not paying the slightest attention over his clothes. Slowly and very carefully he started to clean the wounds, without saying a word or expressing himself.
To her, this gesture and his movements may almost look tender and caring… probably even an unprecedented event in her life.

Then he got up to his feet, and whispered,” I’ll take care of those…” just before he walked to his backpack and started to search for medical supplies.


Each brush of his fingers against her back made her shiver. She kept waiting for him to say something, waiting for pain. Instead, he gave her gentleness. She peeked back at him as he went to get the supplies, a tear trickling. She wiped it away quickly, smearing the dirt and makeup on her face. She dipped down into the water, washing her face, wetting her hair. When she surfaced, he could see the runes that displayed her heritage around her eyes, glowing with a dim silvery light.


He lifted his arm and a moment later his forefinger carefully traced the path of the familiar yet difficult to read symbols, analysing them with patience.
Then his eyes shifted back to hers and he said,” Turn around.” His hands moved their attention a moment to her back again as he applied a thin coat of alcohol on the skin.

The whole time he tended to her, she trembled. It was part fear, part reaction to his touch. Something in the way he looked at her had her bewildered. She knew the look of lust, desire yet this seemed far more. She lifted her chin slightly, trying hard not to cower. She washed her body with the soap he provided, again showing shock when he himself washed her hair. She found herself standing and bundled into a towel before she was even aware, the strange young man drying her naked form as if he had done this a million times.

"I...you...." She stammered a bit. "What...happens now? What do you expect of me?"

His lips were pressed together and now only one side came up. Whether that was a sign of arrogance and superiority or rather playfulness was hard for her to determine, but it may have caught her interest in him.
He placed his forefinger on her lips as he spoke in a hushed voice,“ Let’s not rush into things, but since you ask… right now, I expect you to go to sleep, and to eat.” And with that he motioned her to the bed.

Her next impression was of him looking like a man of good birth and excellent education, endowed by nature with an almost phenomenal feeling for speech.

LUCIUS EBERHARDT


The next morning...

After he pushed himself off the bed, he glanced over his shoulder and briefly examined the female on the sheets, and she was not bad… not bad at all. Actually she was even more good looking than he’d expected. Her dark hair, clean and glossy now, was flowing in waves over her body, adorning her glowing, porcelain-like skin and magnificent curves.
Her eyes, still closed, were framed by rather long lashes, but when she would open them, the stormy silver color of her irises could brighten the world. Her nose was straight and flawless, the lips below nicely full and moist. Her racial traits were just like his rather well hidden and practically undetectable for others. Very inconvenient if it had been otherwise.

His mouth corner lifted, … picture perfect perhaps? Who knows… maybe he would even have sex with her one day. But not yet since he first wanted to teach her things, and an important one to start with was to learn her dealing with… freedom.
Already some time ago, Lucius had learned to suppress his dominant possessiveness which was perhaps typical for his blood. He looked down at Yaassima and could imagine she was a barrel filled with held up and delayed anger… which would definitely release once she witnessed what life she had been missing out on thus far. And if he succeeded in channeling those emotions… well…


Lucius stepped away from the bed. It was still very early and dark outside but he had only little need for sleep. Whether that was due ‘habit’ or inherent to the natural evolution of his race was uncertain, but it certainly highly contributed to his business.
He stopped in front of the large mirror and when he saw those ice blue eyes making him without doubt appealing, he offered his inverted doppelganger a faint grin.
Time is money, and when you had a lot of the first, all the rest would follow automatically.


While the light of the flames from the torch standing next to the mirror flickered over his nude body, his hand brushed over his lightly muscled chest, and instantly he decided to go for a body shave, a comprehensive one.
He bent over and picked up a cupping glass filled with a white creamy substance. The moment he applied the salve-like product, a fresh scent started to spread through the bedroom.
Then he turned his head to stretch his skin, and flawlessly the razor blade found its path over his cheek, cutting off all the stubbles. He didn’t mind a three-day beard, but with a smooth skin he was even more good looking.

And that was another thing important for his work.
People just simply have, or at least show more confidence and faith in someone who pays attention to his looks and appearance. It was actually a way to show respect, to show them they have his attention and that he took his time to listen to them.
He grinned a bit. This way of behaving and acting was also the reason why his days resulted in a well-filled social life with connections in every layer of society.


An hour later he was finished and all dressed up in fashionable silky clothes, giving him an appearance which was a stylish mixture of a roguish yet dashing swordsman and a well-dressed merchant. The sleeves were a loose fitting and featured a white lace trim. He turned a few times left and right in front of the mirror to see if the fabric of his dark blue coat was correct and in place. Absently dusting off invisible stuff from the sleeves, he glanced at the bed.
The young girl was still sleeping and for a moment he wondered about her age. She was younger than him, for sure, but how old exactly? She couldn’t be older than sixteen. He walked over to the bed and leaned over, as if to give her another good look. And then he picked up her scent.

Easy, Lucius, keep it in your pocket… for now.

Instead, he straightened his back again and decided it was time for a first test.
Lucius walked to the door and opened it quietly. He glanced one more time at the girl while he adjusted the white ruffled collar of his outfit, contemplating whether to untie one more knot or rather go for the opposite.
It would be pity if she would take off, but lets see how a recently freed cat behaved while he was down at the market….

YAASSIMA


She was awake as soon as he rose from the bed, but she would not let him know. She awoke with her belly full for the first time that she could remember, the taste of the decadent food still on her lips. She had slept peacefully and deeply, succumbing to the ever present weariness that had been part of her life for so long. In his arms, his body curled around hers, she felt safe and she missed the heat of him.

She could feel his eyes on her and she wondered what he saw. He had not done anything but hold her, in spite of their nudity. Perhaps she did not appeal to him. Her eyes slitted, watching him as he went about his morning routine. The light defined whipcord muscles as he admired his own reflection. She could not deny she found him attractive. There was something seductive about the way he moved, the play of muscles beneath his skin.

Her nose twitched slightly, the scent of the cream he applied to his face filling the air. It was...pleasant. She first thought it a pity when he scraped away the facial hair, but his face clean shaven made him appear a fallen angel. The clothing was elegant, fancy. The rough people that she had lived with so long may even term him a dandy. Yet, she could see the danger inside of him, the deadly instinct that could make him an intimidating adversary, or a useful companion. With almost uncanny instinct, she let her eyes close and her breathing even out as he turned in her direction.

She heard the door click as he left and realized that he had left her there… alone. First there was a panic. Was he leaving her here for good? She rolled out of the warm bed and began looking for easy things to steal. The cool air kissing her skin made her realize she was naked. She went to his nearby chest and began her search and found herself in shock. She had no idea how long she spent looking at the elegant shirts and coats, her fingers drifting lightly over the various materials.

A black silk shirt was chosen, the garment nearly a short dress on her, the blood red lace making her smile. She went to the mirror, staring back at the image reflected back at her. Her hair tumbled to her waist, she was clean, no dirt marring her skin. The runes gleamed on her face, the symbols pretty to her.

Another examination of the room had her kneeling before a chest, one with a very nice lock. She carefully examined it for traps, then found a stray hairpin that she used to slowly and methodically pick the lock. So intent on her task, she did not hear the steps in the hallway, of the almost silent creak as the door opened.

Halfway through the third street of the market, he suddenly realised he forgot the amulet he had promised to an old fisher lady last week. He harbored a curious sympathy for the woman, perhaps because she treatened him as if she were his mother. And Lucius had liked his mother…
Each time he passed her shop at the market Ol’ Emma insisted he accepted some of her prepared fish bites for free, and in return he chatted a bit with her. Ol’ Emma just loved gossip and even invited him over a few times for dinner with her husband, an almost retired captain of a small but famous fishing company.
Last week she had recovered after a long period of illness and he had promised to look for a charm that would protect her from any further diseases. That amulet was now waiting to be gifted in the chest in his room.
He adjusted the package under his arm, in it a dress he bought five minutes earlier. A dress that -could- perfectly fit Yaassima, made of red silk.

Ten minutes later he was standing in front of his door, and took only a blink to listen. Quiet, she was probably either gone… or still sleeping.
But when he opened the door, he saw something he hadn’t expected. The girl crouched next to his chest… he had just caught her, red-handed, as she was trying to steal his stuff.
Then he saw what she was wearing, a shirt of him, one of his favorites even. He glanced at his chest with clothes while he closed the door behind him quietly.

Stormy silvery eyes met ice blue as Lucius turned to her. Relaxed he leaned with his back against the door before he said,“ You can leave if you want… but I really like that shirt back if you do.” He walked over to the bed,” You can wear it if you stay… if not… you may want to ‘steal’ these instead.”

And with that he placed a package on the bed out of which he took the red silky dress. Draping it over the bed, he sideglanced at her and took a few steps back, away from the bed, and away from the door...

Yaassima had been intently working at the lock. It was a hard one, tricky but not beyond her skill. But as habit, she became focused on the task. It was a game to her, to see if she could get the lock to open, almost a compulsion. The task took all of her attention, everything fading but the lock. And she just heard the satisfying click of the lock opening when she heard the door open.

She turned to face him, her stormy eyes meeting ice blue. Her hair tumbled around her face and shoulders and she could feel herself starting to blush… just be for panic set in her face. Her heart thudding she took a step back, herbreathing becoming unsteady. Would he hurt her now? Would he throw her away?

He relaxed against the door, blocking her way out before making the quip about his shirt. Her eyes followed him like a trapped animal as he sauntered over to the bed and laid out the red silk. He was now between the bed and the door, watching her.
She looked at him, then the dress, then back at him. She inched forward a step, then another. One slim finger traced along the dress, feeling the silky material. The stormy eyes found his, a wary cast combining with years of fear and hopelessness.

"What is the game? Something like this is way too fine for the likes of me....and no one gives something for nothing." Her little chin lifted. "So...what is the catch?"

Her reaction had him almost smile widely, but he limited himself to a slight lifting of his mouth corners.
So,... not a broken puppy after all. Even after an abuse that lasted for who knows how long, this girl still had a sharp mind and a set of skills that would turn even the best of thieves pale. The lock she had just picked was high quality and a moderate lockpicker wouldn’t even have tried to unlock it.
She probably wasn’t even aware of this skill, and it was even less likely that she fully understood what she could achieve with it.

And then her reaction, what’s the catch.
Was this business after all? Did he had to start to look at her as if she was some merchant trying to make the best of deals? Or a companion after all… ?
One thing was clear, she wasn’t thinking about running away, otherwise she would have already left. She had placed one of her cards on the table and shown it to him. Perhaps it was time he played one of his, slowly… controlled.

He offered her a slight smile,” Why don’t you first try on that dress, then we can talk… “ he glanced at her barely concealed body parts,” … business.”
And with that he made her clear he had at least some interest in her.

She looked at the dress with a hunger and a longing that he could likely understand. It was beautiful, perhaps one of the prettier garments that she had ever seen. Did he not see? Did he not understand? Was he making fun of her?

He smiled at her, his eyes wandering over her. She blushed, she could feel the color rising to her cheeks. "I will not make you much money as a whore...I am ugly." She looked down at her feet. "Dresses like this are for the pretty girls, not demonspawn."
He saw her hand linger just a moment before it formed a fist and she placed it at her side. "I would rather not be a whore...I do not think I would be good at it. I...do not like being touched by strangers. But....I can work for you...maybe...?" She had started off confident, but the words trailed off into uncertainly.

She did not know if he wished to keep her. She did not know what he may want from her. She would give much to be away from the ones who hurt her, yet she was scared of leaving this room alone. "I....I could...be your eyes, your ears. I do not take up much room....I could make you some money...I...I promise not to be any trouble." The silver eyes pleaded with him a moment.

Once more the short girl’s reaction had surprised him, she wouldn’t be anyone’s toy anymore, … excellent. He walked over to the bed, his eyes shifting from her to the dress.
In the short time she was left alone in his room she had concluded he ran some business,... since she offered herself to work for him, quite observative. This cat didn’t need to be brought from wildness into a domesticated state, she needed to be guided. Just as he thought even before he had turned the key of that lock on her cage.
And she needed to regain some self respect. Clearly she had no idea how beautiful she was in his eyes, and how beautiful she would be in those of many others. She just had bad luck when she ended up with those ignorant idlers.

“Alright then…,” he picked up the dress from the bed, and with the red silky fabric in his hand he passed her, almost teasingly.

With a faint smile drawn on his face, Lucius walked over to the chest with his clothes and placed the dress on top of the pile before closing the chest, making the expensive dress disappear from sight… her sight.
He stood up again and looked a moment pensive. She didn’t liked to be touched by strangers, but what was he then? Another conclusion, ... she liked him.
And he liked her, more and more…

His tone was soft yet very confident,“ Just to be clear. First of all, I won’t allow anyone -else-... “ he paused two seconds while his ice blue eyes seemed to penetrate her silvery, as if to emphasize his words,” … to touch you.”

He walked over to her,” Secondly, if you wish to stick with me, fine, go ahead. But -if- so, then yes, you will work with me since…”

Lucius stopped right in front of her, and ignored her earlier comment about strangers as his hand gently cupped her cheek a moment later,” … since you won’t leave my side.”

She may have caught he didn't say ‘work for him’, but ‘with him’.

The man standing so close to her may now look as the strong silent type, the type to who women might flock due the mystique that surrounded his persona. It looked as if he could be both strong ànd sensitive. And perhaps also as someone used to be in charge and in control. His body language might tell her he seemed like someone who was able to persevere during all kinds of situations with a strong and confident demeanor.

The hand left her cheek, the warmth on her skin vanishing as he said,” As for taking up room, you can just stay in my bed.” He looked her over,” What do you say?”

She watched him, silver eyes covertly seeking his face as she awaited his answer. She was nervous, uncertain as his eyes shifted from her to the dress. So beautiful, so pretty. She smothered her disappointment when he picked up the dress and passed by her, putting it away. She could not fault him for that. Such lovely things should be given to those who deserved to wear such. But still, there was a twinge of disappointment. Maybe one day...she...no...she would not even hope that. It would be enough just to no longer live in fear.

She felt his gaze on her, his smile faint, his voice soft as he stepped over to her. When he said that he would not allow another to touch her, she believed him. There was almost instant relief in her eyes. He would not force her to be a whore for him.

Then he spoke of her working with him, not for him. Her eyes widened slightly as his hand moved up to caress her cheek. His hand was warm as it cupped her face, gentle... no show of strength or dominance, just a gentle caress as he said that
she would be at his side.

Her heart started to race a little, her eyes widened a lot. His hand was gone quickly as he spoke of her sharing his bed. Her own eyes drifted to the mounded pillows, the luxurious setting having her almost breathless. She bit her lower lip and murmured quietly. "I...you...you must have...ummm ladies...ummm lovers....won't they mind me sharing your bed?"

Again her reaction surprised him, or rather not since it confirmed what he was assuming. He had studied her expression right before she asked that and now knew this girl had seen much more than the average sixteen year old. Probably she had been sexually abused too, forced even, but she also seemed to understand the concept man-bed-woman really well.
She looked almost cute when she bit on her lower lip and it told more about herself than she even probably wanted to reveal. She was curious about him, she wanted to know if he already shared his life with someone or rather used whores to satisfy his physical desires.

She was playing her cards, and whether that was her intention or not, his answer would provide her with extra information… and thus she was actually ‘hearing’ him out. The nerve... if she was fully aware.
For a moment he wondered if he made a mistake, freeing her and bringing her here in this room and in the centre of his life.
Well, too late and time to make a bet.

He tilted his head slightly as he said,” I don’t -do- whores, and the last time a girl entered my bed is now a while ago.” He studied her facial expressions as he said it.

The silver eyes watched him so curiously. She stood there, in his shirt, forgetting to be self conscious as she awaited his answer. And she was unable to hide her surprise when the words actually came. Her gaze roamed over his face and form a moment, her head tilted.

"I do not understand. You are handsome. Females would find you very desirable." She thinks a few moments, then he sees her expression change again. She reveals a bit of relief at his words, there is a lot more curiosity and now respect.

She inched a step closer to him. "To let someone that close, is dangerous. To let someone with you as you slumber gives them an edge. And you are too smart to trust strangers to wield such power over you."

A slight smile shows on her face. "You have given me a taste of freedom, Lucius. You...honor me with your trust. I will not betray it."

Alright, that was enough for him, and for now she wasn’t getting any further information about him. The reason why he didn’t had a woman at each finger was his. He would keep her at his side, observe her and if she proved herself, he would start inducting her carefully into his life.

The bet was taken, the stakes high,... the girl… tempting…
Right now he had to take care of his daily business, no interruptions, no exceptions, not even because of a girl like her.

“Then take your freedom and walk with me,” he said with a glance at the chest in which he had stored the dress. “I have a nice black cloak that goes well with it…”

“And I still think it will look good on you,” he too now took a step closer and offered his help to take off the shirt she was wearing…

She looked at the door, at him, then at the chest where he had stored the dress. He could see the fear, the nervousness. Her stormy eyes found his, and that is when he saw it...just that small flicker of trust. She bit her lower lip again and nodded slightly.

She did not move as he slowly unlaced the shirt. She only swallowed when it pooled at her feet. She stood quietly, but trembling as he helped her into the dress, his fingers brushing her skin as he laced it. Her hair fell past her waist, cloaking her scarred back. The red silks molded her form, the color complimenting her skin and hair. He guided her to the mirror to look at her reflection. And she gasped softly at what was revealed.

Lucius moved behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders as he looked over her head at their reflection. She was short, he could see that now in the mirror, and even though she looked very young, this dress made her so lady-like and the color just seemed to fit.
His eyes were drawn to the open part of her front and the sight stirred something within him. But he was in control, and instead his hands moved to her hair and bundled the long tresses for a moment. That… revealed her neck along with a part of her shoulder, and again Lucius felt this strange attraction.

Fifteen or sixteen years old, and she already was a jewel. It’s weird… he had already seen her naked, he had already felt her skin against his… but now, this dress molding her figure…

Lucius quickly banished the thought of looking down at her butt, the silky fabric stretching there over her sweet skin like a thin red layer and accentuating her curves. He managed to control his sexual urges once more and instead took a decision. He would show this young lady how he dealt with women, since it also kinda disturbed him how she earlier thought about him in that ‘area’.
He would court her, … and he would keep her.

His hands left her hair as he moved to the wall next to the door. He took a hooded black cloak and came back to drap it around her shoulders.

“Now, come with me, and put that hood on.” Lucius walked to the door and opened it for her, waiting till she got through first...

Chapter 2

Dealing with



Weeks later, in a dim corner of a somewhat calm taproom of the same inn, a man found himself slightly slouched in a low with brown leather upholstered armchair.
He was dressed in a simple black silky shirt with a semi-high collar and a black leather pants. On his feet he wore soft stylish all purpose boots of black smooth leather which had a large fold-over cuff, worn down for the occasion.

In front of him stood a low round table, surrounded by a few others. On it, an opened bottle with a substance of the highest quality, a big contradiction with the place where they were consuming it. The bottle contained a spirit distilled from the fermented juice of a famous grape family.
At the moment he was listening to someone while he seemed to study the liquid in his square glass intently, rolling it around as he does, just before holding the glass almost horizontal. He raised his arm and brought the glass to his nose, sticking one nostril deeper in it and sniffed once. To the other men it almost looked as if he was more interested in the brandy than the subject they were discussing.


The owner of the inn, Marvin Cook, knew better than to bother him, at least right now when he was talking business. As a matter of fact, Marvin made sure others didn’t disturb him, since he payed well and was actually his best customer. It is also the reason why the bedroom where this man was staying, now more like a suite, looked so much better than the rest.
In the early days when Marvin took over the inn, it didn’t really had a good reputation, but last year when this man arrived, his inn just flourished within a matter of weeks. More affluent customers started to visit his place… most of them to see this man.
Marvin glanced in the direction of the ‘business corner’ of his inn.

He was just in time to see how the man his arm reached out to the other side of his chair, blindly, as if he knew exactly where she would be sitting. Marvin saw how man’s hand descended a bit only to gently touch the head of the female sitting next to his chair, almost at his feet. It was a strange sight, and yet… nobody seemed to care. On the contrary, it rather seemed to interest a few of his customers. But none asked questions about the woman, not even to him. And if one did… Marvin knew better, for sure…

That... woman… a shiver ran down over his back… she was beautiful, but those eyes...
Then Marvin saw how he leaned forward, placed his empty glass on the round table and held up his hand to the other customers. And that, was an indication the man was about to do business.

Yaassima leaned into the hand that stroked her hair. The glossy mane was carefully arranged, partially piled on her head to allow the loose locks to tease at her neck and shoulders. She knew that with one motion of his fingers, he could have the long stiletto like weapon that was hidden within the hairstyle.

The dress she wore was equally cunning. The red silk clung to her curves and she knew she was on display, yet sewn within the dress were sheathes for many blades and hiding spots for other various items. The color went so well with her skin, her hair and the silvery eyes which moved around the place so restlessly.

The place was rough, in the slums. Yet she could see where the owner had worked to accommodate the intriguing male who now had his hand on her hair. The floors were of rough plank, but covered in this corner by a colorful rug. The walls in this little alcove had been covered with a brocade cloth, lending it a fake richness. The rest of the room was lit with oil lamps, but at this table, the glow of real beeswax candles cast them in a golden glow.