Possessions Ch. 03

The night had passed without further incident. However, such luck did not extend into the morning. The servants had arrived ridiculously early, before any in the room had woken. They were not quiet in their preparations as the women poured through the door, carrying food, drink, bathing water and other items Trivalm didn't recognize.

Perhaps Sarantha had reason to be upset over such intrusions.

At first, she had rolled to her other side and pulled the blanket over her head. It worked only for a moment before one of the servants, a woman similar in age to Sarantha, boldly pulled the blanket from her. Sarantha forced herself to a seated position, eyes narrowed at the woman, venom in her gaze. When the woman spoke, it was in clipped tones. She used no title, made no show of respect. Trivalm felt his temper rise at the blatant disregard the woman had for Sarantha's position. He did not like the woman, but there was a drastic difference between liking a person and respecting their position.

Ebon and Ivory were released from their cage by a young woman. Ivory immediately crawled onto the bed to lay curled against Sarantha's legs as Ebon released Trivalm from his manacle. It did not escape his notice that Sarantha trusted the slave with the keys. He wondered if the slave was normally locked in at night. Trivalm was allowed to see to morning necessities with Ebon standing near, he assumed in case of any misbehavior, as the servants milled around the room. After he finished, he sat quietly on his bed, trying to learn the morning routine of his new Mistress.

Ebon seemed to be the sole caretaker of Ivory. He saw to the small woman's morning cleansing then spent several minutes massaging scented oil into her skin. More time than was necessary was spent running a fine comb through the girl's nearly white hair. He even styled the long strands, shocking Trivalm with such a skill. When breakfast was served to them in the room, the large man shared a plate with her, ensuring that she ate enough, and got only the foods she seemed to like, before he even took his first bite.

Sarantha didn't argue as she drank what seemed to be an endless procession of potions handed to her. She did not resist when she was hand fed her breakfast by a servant. She did not complain when a healer massaged her body from neck to feet, skipping only her breasts, swollen belly, and groin, with scented oils. She did not utter a single word as she was bathed by more servants than what seemed necessary. She did not tense as a healer moved her body into different positions, stretching muscles. She did not move as servants dressed her in a simple maternity dress.

Her anger only exploded when one of the women pushed Ivory aside, sending the slight creature sprawling to the floor. She went from a lifeless puppet, amenable to the servant's care, to a screaming, raging beast, anything within arm's reach hurled at the rapidly retreating women, every one of the items bouncing off of the women's backs. She fumed for several minutes after the room emptied, watching as Ebon pulled the little blond onto his lap to stroke and soothe her. Anger blazed in his eyes. Even so, his actions were gentle.

Servants trickled into the room, taking positions along the walls. Anytime Sarantha reached for something, a servant was there first. Finally, she pulled her blanket back over her herself and contended herself with petting Ivory.

Soon after, Sarantha came into the room. The two women sat and talked for some time about various subjects. While the effects of Sarantha's pregnancy was discussed in explicit detail, many of those details Trivalm had no desire to know, the issue of her restrictions was never broached. Both women seemed to enjoy the private conversation. Aside from petting Ivory's head, Alaliya never acknowledged any of the slaves, and only acknowledged the servants when she called for something. When the women seemed to finish talking, Alaliya made some flippant comment about her husband having an easy morning and needing to fix that before sashaying out the door.

Midday meal was served in the room, Ebon settling Sarantha's fare near her before again sharing his plate with Ivory in the same manner as morning meal. Again, Trivalm was surprised at both the quantity and quality of food the slaves were allowed.

Finally, Sarantha moved to her reading chair and called her slaves to join her. Ebon and Ivory thought nothing of immediately following the directive. The chair was large enough that Ebon was able to curl himself behind Sarantha, his hands gently massaging her shoulders. Unlike when she had been massaged earlier, Sarantha seemed relaxed, content. Happy. Ivory knelt at her feet, her head resting on Sarantha's thigh as her head was again pet like an animal. There seemed to be something infinitely soothing in the gesture, but Trivalm couldn't imagine what.

"Choose a story, little slave. Read to me."

It was the last thing that Trivalm had expected. He moved to the bookshelf, glancing at the titles. He didn't recognize many of the stories, and was surprised that many of the books were not stories but military instructions. Not wanting the closest thing to Sarantha, which happened to be a large, thick book balanced on the chair's arm, hurled at his head, Trivalm quickly chose a book which seemed to contain many short children's stories.

The first one was about a Keeper who fell in love with a slave, but was married to a slave trader. It did not have a happy ending.

Sarantha gigged when he slowly raised his eyes to hers. "Interesting choice, little slave. Have you decided yet what you want to learn?"

"I've learned what I need to know, Mistress."

Sarantha made that same humming sound that he was quickly learning heralded trouble. "Very well." She stood and began to move toward the door. "Come, my pets. Tomorrow morning, we will stop and introduce our new little slave to his instructors."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trivalm was allowed to walk unchained, nobody giving him much attention. He wasn't dumb enough to think to misbehave in any way. Any move would require planning and careful, thought out decisions.

Sarantha looked regal in her dress made of several lengths of earth colored, draping fabrics. With each step she took, part of her creamy thigh would be revealed, only to disappear before reappearing with her next step. She wore no jewelry, and had her hair pulled back from her face in a simple style that allowed it to flow down her back. He had been supplied a clean pair of pants, but no shirt or shoes. Ebon was similarly clothed, but was wore a simple pair of shoes. The large man had clothed Ivory in pale, but somehow still colorful fabrics wrapped several times around her slim waist. By the time he was done, there were several layers of skirts that created a rainbow down her thighs. Her breasts were covered by a thin piece of fabric that was tied behind her back.

Ebon had left the room to retrieve the girl's clothing. Nobody had stopped him. Nobody had asked where he was going. It seemed the slave was allowed to come and go as he pleased. Trivalm made a mental note to find out how far Ebon's freedoms extended.

When they left the room, several servants walked with them, forming a loose bubble around the pregnant woman. A few of them tried to walk between the woman and her slaves, but a decorative vase plucked from a table sent flying through the air easily dissuaded them. Trivalm noticed that it wasn't so much he or Ebon that she had an issue being separated from, but Ivory. No matter where the girl went, Sarantha's gaze followed, making Trivalm wonder if the girl was commonly mistreated the way she had been that morning.

Ivory, for her part, seemed oblivious to anything around her, frolicking and darting ahead only to turn around and skip back. Occasionally, she would slide over to Ebon, who would stroke her hair or face affectionately before allowing her to twirl away. At one point, she skipped in circles around Trivalm as he walked. When he didn't engage with her shenanigans, she took his hand to try to make him twirl and dance with her.

He snatched his hand back, using his command voice without realizing, causing the girl to flinch at his harsh tone. "Do not dare to-"

He didn't finish the sentence before he was slammed against a wall, the breath knocked from him, Ebon's large hand at his throat cutting off air. Pure rage was etched into the dark man's features, letting the General know there would be trouble even before a fist collided with his face. He was thrown across the hall to crash against the opposite wall. The attack was so sudden that Trivalm had no time to get his bearings before the man's hand was at his throat again. That large fist met his face again several times, the back of Trivalm's head bouncing off of the stone wall behind him.

A tinkling laugh seemed to pierce his scull as Sarantha laid a hand gently hand on Ebon's forearm. Immediately, the slave released his captive and stepped back, his head bowed in submission, though his face was still marked with fury.

Trivalm gasped for breath as he leaned against the wall, his head spinning. As soon as he could breathe somewhat normally, he raised his gaze to take appraisal of those around him, to gauge their reaction. Instantly, a smaller fist met his face with just as much force had it been a man to throw the punch. A knee connected with his gut, folding him over, before the same knee met his face, sending him crashing backward, his head slamming into the stone wall behind him again. He slid to the floor, unable to stay on his feet due to the dizziness gripping him. As he groaned his pain, Sarantha knelt down in front of him, her knee crushing precious flesh between his legs, causing Trivalm to gasp as a new pain nearly made his body convulse. Before he could push her off, his arms were pinned above his head by Ebon. Ivory watched the scene unfold, her head cocked to the side, and confusion on her face, as if she didn't understand why people would fight.

"Little slave, you are confused." Sarantha's voice had taken on the sickly sweet tone that made those who knew her pause. "You do not ever hurt my pet. You do not ever speak to her in such tones. You do not ever make her flinch in fear. If you do, your cock will not ever-" she put slightly more pressure on his crushed manhood, ignoring his gasp of pain, "-function properly again." She rose, with a sweet smile upon her pretty face. "There is a certain hierarchy among slaves. Well, a hierarchy within a hierarchy. Work slaves are at the bottom, rarely seen in the keeps. They labor in the fields, the mines, above ground. It is uncomfortable for them, I am told, constantly above ground, in the sun." She shuddered at the thought. Suddenly her mood uplifted again. "Then keep slaves, the ones that work the maintenance jobs in the keeps, owned by the Keeper, but do not work for the Keeper himself. The ones that clean the halls, prepare the meals, see to the guests' rooms. Above them are the Keeper's slaves. The ones that draw baths, and attend to the keeper and their family's rooms, run more personal errands. Honestly, I recognize their faces, but they do not speak to me, other than when necessary. Of course, personal slaves are at the top. You are a personal slave. Personal slaves are anything their Masters decide they are. Pets," she stroked back Ivory's hair, "caretakers, guards, items, bed toys, anything. Keep that in mind, little slave." She gave him a look full of meaning before continuing. "Personal slaves have their own hierarchy. Of my personal slaves, Ebon is at the top and you are at the bottom. My precious Ivory is outside of that order. All understand that Ebon is her caretaker. He will protect her, care for her, and is forgiven any actions that are taken in that pursuit." Then she turned on her heel, and continued to the Great Hall as if nothing had transpired.

Trivalm understood perfectly. Ebon could do anything he wanted and receive no punishment, as long as he could justify it as somehow related to caring for Ivory. Evidently, everyone knew that. It was clear that the order, as far as Sarantha was concerned, was set in stone, and anyone attempting disrupt that order would be dealt with harshly.

Trivalm snarled at the back of her head, and sneered over his shoulder when Ebon smacked him across the back of his.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Trivalm glared at Drimelk and Raikol when they both grinned at him as he was led into the Great Hall. He wasn't in the mood. He didn't even bother to look at those seated at the table.

Alaliya was the first to notice their approach. She was instantly on her feet moving toward them. "What happened? What did he do? Are you hurt?"

Ehrik looked to see what caused his wife such panic. He rose from his seat to pull out Sarantha's chair for her, but did not comment on Trivalm's appearance.

It was Allek's laughter that finally made Trivalm snap his gaze to the table, irritation paramount in his expressive eyes. "I warned you. You yelled at the pet didn't you? You didn't actually hurt her, otherwise you wouldn't be walking." He was obviously amused at the other man's expense.

Trivalm simply plopped down in his spot in front of the table, too exasperated to waste energy with the fools around him.

Sarantha took her seat as Ebon placed a large cushion next to her and helped Ivory arrange herself on it. The man disappeared, again with nobody commenting on his movements. The man had an extraordinary amount of freedom for a slave. Or perhaps it just seemed that way compared to the seemingly over structured maintenance of Ivory.

The meal went smoothly, with few interruptions. Conversation was mainly centered around various occurrences in the Keep that were of no interest to Trivalm. When all the plates were empty and cleared, however, Sarantha again expressed her displeasure with her restrictions.

"Brother, I did everything I was instructed today-"

"Before or after you chased the healers from your rooms?" Allek quipped, a smirk in his voice.

Sarantha ignored him. She seemed overly calm. "-and I feel worse than I do when I am allowed to be active. Perhaps, if in the morning, I rest as the Healer instructs, in the afternoon I could be allowed to assist with some of the preparations for my child's birth. Sewing and such. I would be still."

Ehrik seemed to consider her request, even as his eyes narrowed in distrust. "You seem more calm in regards to this matter than you have ever been." Suddenly, he smirked. "Do you believe me to have forgotten the last time I granted such a request? I believe I found you in the training rooms, climbing the cliff wall. Without ties in case you fell."

Sarantha seemed insulted, her jaw falling open. "I have never fallen!" She seemed to be completely overlooking the issue.

"No, you have not," Alaliya said softly, "but you have never attempted while carrying child."

Sarantha slid her eyes over, the look on her face clearly telling all those at the table that her sister-in-law was wrong, but she did not speak the words that would undoubtedly restrict her freedoms even more. "It was early in my pregnancy. I was barely even growing!"

When she didn't continue, it seemed Ehrik took her silence as an end to the conversation.

"There is to be entertainment tonight, little sister. Dancers, quite skilled, I am told." Ehrik seemed excited. "They are said to be quite the spectacle."

Alaliya seemed equally as enthusiastic about the upcoming display. "I've heard that they are unbelievably flexible, able to twist their bodies in the most amazing ways and-"

"And I've heard," Sarantha cut in, in her syrup sweet voice, "That I am still restricted to my rooms for most of the day, given disgusting concoctions to drink, kept unable to rest by the clamoring of the servants, and seemingly have become unable to bathe or feed myself." She lifted a goblet to her lips, a slight smile, full of sarcasm and mockery, playing upon them.

Before anyone could make retort, many of the fires around the hall were extinguished, throwing the room into shadows. Excited whispering died away as a hush fell over all those present. Music began to flow through the air, seemingly from nowhere.

Without warning, women began to file through the main doors, twirling and spinning in a grand entrance. Their bodies were covered in strips of cloth that only covered their breasts and between their legs. Their bodies had been painted from head to toe in glittering golden paint, with various sized and colored gems adhered to their skin in contrast. The women moved in and out of the shadows, allowing light to reflect off their decorated bodies in an artful colors and refractions of light. As promised, the women moved around the floor, contorting their bodies into various shapes. They stood on their hands, with other girls climbing to stand on their upturned feet before jumping off and twirling through the air to land on safely on the floor. Across the room, a group of women climbed onto each other's shoulders to create an even greater attraction. Gradually the strips of cloth began to fall away, leaving the women naked. Small bars of metal were pierced through each girl's nipples and clit hood, standing starkly silver against their golden painted skin. Dancers began to climb onto tables, often brushing up against the spectators before catching their eye with a saucy grin. A few took sips from offered goblets.

The slaves sat on the floor transfixed, having never witnessed such a spectacle. Displays such as these weren't done in their country. Several times they lunged forward or reached out, thinking one of the women would fall and injure themselves. Those at the table noticed their movements, but didn't move to stop them, only chuckled at their panic.

Three girls darted between the slaves seated on the floor to the main table. They planted their hands on the edge of the table, then used raw strength and practiced skill to raise their legs until their bodies were upside down, vertically balanced on the edge. Slowly, they spread their legs until their thighs made a straight line from knee to knee, their pointed toes touching. The women continued to twist their limbs, allowing those seated at the table to admire their lithe, dancers' bodies.

Gradually the room began to empty, the dancers slipping out the doors on the arms of various men, women, and even couples, until only the three performing on the head table were left.

Suddenly, without warning, Kriel snatched one of the women from the table, hauling the grinning woman against his chest. "I believe I will have a treat waiting for my wife when she returns from her duties." Without a second glance or word to his General and Keeper, he wrapped an arm around the smaller woman's waist and began to move toward the exit. The girl giggled but didn't seem averse to his touch as Kriel lead her from the room.

"Shall we too take our leave, my love?" Ehrik skimmed his fingers down his wife's arm, his face not masking his desire.

Instead of answering, Alaliya turned toward Sarantha. "Will you be retiring soon? Would you prefer company? You said you were kept from your rest today. If you'd like some peace, quiet, we can look after your slaves for you."

Something in her questions earned her a sharp look from her husband, but he didn't comment.

"No. I will take my slaves back to my room." Sarantha motioned to Ivory and Ebon, who had reappeared unnoticed at some point during the performance, as she stood. "Ebon, bathe my new little slave. He's managed to become covered in filth again. Begin to teach him how to care for my pet. Let her play for a bit, too."

Drimelk smirked as Trivalm stood, using a falsely high pitched voice, "Behave, little slave."