Life in Ravok [Valerius]

[Melenna]

Oddly enough, the konti felt more ill at ease as Valerius disappeared into the upper story. His song hadn't been overwhelmingly sweet, but it had held mild tones and a steady beat. She could only assume that he was neither excited nor melancholy, just calm. Valerius's slave, on the other hand, had a quicker tempo that lacked the gentleness of her appearance—there was something darker there, smooth and quiet, but slightly sinister. To the konti's inner ear, it was almost like hearing the echo of a ghostly cello. It made her eyes narrow slightly at the girl, twisting her open posture to straighten the shoulders and clasp the hands behind the back. She couldn't help but hope that she was misreading something—she so dearly needed a friend to lean on—and thus decided to interpret the girl's frown as being disapproval towards her appearance instead of anything deeper.

“Apple leaves have qualities that help to prevent disease that occurs on wounds. Added to a lemon balm compress, it might help, but it would seem they are less common than I thought. I'll be alright without it—I am grateful for anything, and there are many substitutes.” It had taken Melpomene a moment to digest her thoughts enough to start answering questions, but the words came naturally enough as she followed Tuuli into another part of the house. What slowed her down again was the thought that there were no nearby orchards, and likely no parks within the whole of the floating town. How did these humans survive without the open space needed to grow crop? Was it possible to survive on trade alone?

Melpomene's thoughts were jerked to a stop at the blunt question fired in her direction. Why would anyone care about how much had been paid for her, particularly a fellow slave? They were all destined for the same fate of servitude no matter what price was paid, weren't they? Thus, the konti's tone was slightly more hesitant as she answered, “Three hundred mizas. I still find it hard to believe that any life can be measured with currency.”

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„I have made a few salves that you can use. I also have a small stock of healing herbs“, Tuuli informed Melpomene. „I sometimes take care of the smaller injuries of the other slaves. I’ve learned a bit of healing from my mother.“ Tuuli decided that even though she was ambivalent about the arrival of the Konti – very ambivalent – she wouldn’t neglect her treatment on purpose. Besides, Master Valerius had ordered her to take care of his newest purchase. They entered a room that contained several plain wooden wardrobes, a chest as well as a chair and a washing stand. Tuuli opened one of the wardrobes. Melpomene could see that it contained several dresses in different colors and sizes. They all had the same cut though. „I think a white dress will suit you best“, she decided. „Black will make you even paler as you already are, and red will make you look a bit like a whore, and you don’t want that, do you?“ She eyed her suspiciously and handed her a long sleeved white linen dress that came to a little below her knees. „And here are shoes.“ She opened a drawer below the wadrobe and gave her a pair of leather shoes with a low heel. They were plain, but nevertheless elegant. „You should wash first though, otherwise your new dress will get dirty. And Master Valerius absolutely can’t stand dirt.“ She pointed at the washing stand. „There’s a bar of soap and a brush somewhere.“ Having that said, she crossed her arms over her chest and considered Melpomene’s price. „Are you deformed?“ she wanted to know. „No, I suppose you aren’t, unless your deformities are internal. Are you barren? Stupid? Hard of hearing? Do you have bad teeth? Or did Master Valerius scare the slaver so much that he didn’t dare to ask a higher price? I suppose the latter is the case. Master Valerius can be quite intimidating if he wants to. Don’t let his pretty face fool you.“

[Melenna]

Melpomene couldn't deny it any longer—this girl definitely had something against her. She'd mentioned salves, but hadn't expressed concern for the wounds or bothered to examine them. When she she'd chosen dresses, she'd taken the plainest among them, and even went so far as to comment on the konti's skin and imply some manner of debauchery. If that wasn't enough, at the end of it all, she had to fire off a string of insults related to the price Melpomene had been bought at, ending with a compliment towards her master. Such words made the tension of their interaction almost palpable, and the konti was so caught off guard that she said nothing for a full minute. Slave masters were supposed to be the cruel ones, those responsible for making life miserable! How could one living under such a circumstance choose to make her already miserable companion suffer while loving those that lorded over her?

In the end, Melpomene chose to answer none of the slightly rhetorical questions thrown at her. Her pale eyes were sad, but she hadn't lost composure, hands steady and frame poised as she began to wash herself. She didn't fear offending Valerius with dirt, as she'd already been scrubbed until her skin felt varnished, but the powder she'd been covered with was slightly itchy. As it came off, layer by layer, her skin became more smooth, the sheen of her scales brighter. Wounds also became more apparent—the bruise on her back, the cuts on her hands, the abrasion along her neck and wrists. Much would be hidden by clothing, but Melpomene couldn't help but make a face at what had been offered to her.

Long sleeves, linen? No, the arms were supposed to be free, and the fabric was supposed to flow around the body, to compliment curves and dance around each movement. The stark white may have been finely crafted, but it was utterly plain and without form. It also looked decidedly larger than Melpomene's thin form, and wouldn't fit correctly. There was not, however, a better choice, and beggars couldn't be choosers. So after Melpomene was dry, she slipped the thing on. Even if it was far too breezy and bulky, it certainly was better than being nude.

The shoes Melpomene didn't even bother with. Even if they were small enough for her feet, she had the feeling they weren't made to accommodate webbed toes. Besides, the undersides of her feet were almost entirely covered by patterns of thick teal scales, which served better than any leather to protect her skin. Unless someone was expecting her to run halfway across Mizahar on a thorny road, she had no intention of wearing shoes. Thus, the only thing left for Melpomene to do with herself was to find some way to fix her dress, or at least add a shred of taste to it. Without asking, she helped herself to the wardrobe, sifting through its sparse accessories until she came across a dark blue scarf. She examined it for a moment, running her fingers across the slightly worn material, only to decide that it was too thick. With a shrug, she lightly rolled it up and set it aside, digging deeper until she came across red.

Oh, this will do! Melpomene sighed happily, remembering only too well Tuuli's jab about the color, but that just made its use even better. In her hands was a long red sash, slightly coarse, but also wispy and translucent. She delicately folded it over, then wrapping it around her waist with a generous bow. It served to add a flare of color while thinning out the waist without overdosing on color.

That slight artistic opportunity brought out the smallest bit of glow on the konti, who smiled lightly as she examined herself. It was good to be clean, to be dressed, to not be on the run. In light of all she'd already experienced, dealing with a sulky slave and a cold master couldn't be that bad. With her dressing preparations finished, she bowed her head, one hand resting delicately over her chest. “I'd like to thank you, Tuuli, for being so kind. I have borne many hardships ever since I was taken from my home, seen things no eyes should, and it is a relief to meet one who would offer me mercy instead of judgment. It is a delicate time now, to form friendship when all things around us make it so difficult, but I find myself overcome by your tact.”

Melpomene's face mirrored her saccharine tone, masking the sarcasm with a touch of humor. When she finished, she lightly clasped her hands in front of her, the picture of a noblewoman rather than a slave. “I believe I'm ready to go. It should only take a moment to apply ointment.”

[Valerius Nitrozian]

As Melpomene started searching the wardrobe on her own, Tuuli watched her disapprovingly. Master Valerius hadn’t said anything abou Melpomene wearing a scarf and a sash! But then again, he hadn’s said anything about not wearing a scarf and a sash, so she couldn’t refuse to let her have those items! What was this Konti thinking, acting as if she already lived here? Nothing had been decided yet! And how dare she refuse the shoes! „He even made the Kelvic wear shoes“, she informed the Konti. „The one that later killed Lady Salvatrice in the middle of an important business meeting, wrecked the dining room and jumped out of a window never to be seen again.“ She thought that the tale might scare Melpomene. Tuuli had actually liked Winter – the Kelvic – and been kind to her because she knew an animal in human skin would never threaten her position – and she had been disappointed. The creature had caused a lot of trouble. As Melpomene thanked her, the young slave made a face. She had been in House Nitrozian long enough to recognize sarcasm. Master Valerius could be fairly sarcastic if he wanted to. With a quick movement she opened a drawer and rooted through it until she had found a container with a salve. She didn’t like Melpomene, but being talked to like that made her uncomfortable. „Here. This will be good for your wounds. I could examine you and help you a bit once Master Valerius is done with you. Do you have any questions while we go to him?“ ~~~ Valerius‘ suite was located on the first floor. It had a balcony from where one could see the Nitrozian Plaza and the canals. Tuuli stopped in front of the heavy double doors that were covered with intricate carvings and knocked. After a few seconds Valerius’ voice could be heard from within. „Enter!“ As she opened the door, the young girl seemed to undergo a transformation. She wasn’t hateful and jealous any longer, but smiled gently and moved gracefully. Master Valerius hated nothing more than a woman who was rude and insulting. She clearly remembered when that gadgeteer Tock had visited him and built something for him. They had argued for hours and might even have hit each other despite the fact that the Master normally hated touching people. Valerius‘ suite was luxurious and extremely clean. There was not a grain of dust anywhere. In the middle of the room stood a large table of dark wood on a carpet, surrounded by four chairs. At the left wall a number of bookshelves and a desk could be seen. There were also a small fireplace and a large wardrobe that contained Valerius‘ sizeable collection of elegant clothes. Valerius‘ bed was a four poster bed with dark red curtains, and it seemed to be big enough for two or three. Valerius was currently sitting in an armchair next to the balcony door. His back was completely straight. He was never relaxed when people could see him. He was dressed casually now though, which meant that he had foregone a jacket, and the rest of his clothes were a hint plainer. He was wearing a white silk shirt and black pants this time. His appearance was of course spotless. „Thank you, Tuuli, you can go now. I want to talk to the new slave alone.“ Tuuli curtsied and left the room without a word, closing the door behind her. Once she was gone, Valerius looked Melpomene over. „Did Tuuli give you those things? Why are you not wearing any shoes?“ He gestured for her to come closer. His voice was calm and cool, as almost always, not betraying his feelings or his thoughts. „Come to me so that I can see you better.“

[Melenna]

Once he's done with me? What is he going to do? Melpomene's lips pursed at the thought, which she found more disturbing than mention of a former violent slave. She wasn't entirely sure of what kelvics were, but a verse or two came to mind: “Wild as nature, smart as man, catch them quickly if you can!” Animals, they were animals, but not—anything else she could think of were artistic similes. How might have clothes felt to such a creature? All the konti could figure was that it wouldn't have tolerated pinching shoes either if it did, in fact, have webbed toes.

When Tuuli offered medicine for the wounds, Melpomene thanked her again, relieved that the young woman hadn't made yet another rude quip. She was of half a mind to inform the girl that she could handle her injuries well enough on her own and that she might scream at the next person that wanted to “examine” her, but part of her still craved any opportunity for civil company. Even if she was going to be peppered with petty insults and shot with dirty looks, it was still better than being left alone with only recent memories to keep her company. So she quietly popped the bottle open, dipping in a single finger that then worked gingerly to dab the substance on her cuts. Almost immediately, the slight itching there was soothed, though the ointment did have a strange and sharp scent that wasn't quite herbal.

Melpomene remained silent once the task was done and she was led up to Valerius' room. Her mind was bursting with questions, but none of them seemed like appropriate ones to ask the protective Tuuli. Would he be kind? What was it like to live with him? Surely Tuuli would only speak well of him, or rationalize whatever was cruel about the man. Perhaps she'd outright lie to frighten the konti. No, it was better to leave herself open to impressions, not to make assumptions before her new life even began. Besides, if Valerius had intended to hurt her, why would he have bothered to have her clothed and treated?

That didn't keep her skin from raising goosebumps when the young man's voice sounded through his own door. In that brief moment before she was exposed to the luxury of his room, she lost her serene composure, hands trembling and ears burning. It was utterly strange—why should she be so nervous when she'd already been examined in the nude?—but it came all the same, tensing her back and making the base of her spine ache. Lips that were so confident in the sound of her voice quivered, for once utterly useless in their inability to produce words.

And then the doors opened. Melpomene blinked, realizing suddenly that it wasn't Berain that she was being brought to see. There were no cages, no mechanisms of torture or guards making lewd gestures at her. Part of her had been expecting such, simply waiting for the falsely pleasant feel of the house to reveal itself. But Valerius was just sitting there, poised as though he was being painted, and the most intimidating thing in his room was the shadow of his bookcase. Everything was illuminated by the light of day, which peeked through the windows as glimmers of sky and water. Muted sounds of the world leaked through the glass as well, splashes and the cry of gulls separated from her by a single wall.

Thus, most of the sting from Valerius' greeting was lost in her wonder. Had she still been the pampered artist from the White Isle, she would have chided him for the lack of manners towards a lady and reminded him that her name was Mel-pom-ene, not the new slave. But she had spent too much time being shoved into the dark and stinking crevices of a ship, too much time being handled and broken to find reason to enjoy the world that was around her. Her music, the delightful melodies locked inside had been lost, forgotten in the face of overwhelming evils. She could know no offense then, no anger at any bitter words when she was allowed to bask in newly discovered luxury.

When Tuuli left, leaving the two alone, Melpomene offered a curtsy herself, head bowing and knees bending with all the docile aestheticism of a swan. She was too buoyant to be polite, and thus the gesture was more artistic than appropriate, taking her too close to the floor and blatantly showing the curve of calves where the shield of a full skirt should have been. The konti didn't even bother to answer Valerius' questions immediately, instead letting silence fall as she approached. There was only the rustle of her skirt, the lightest sound of her breathing. She let her body do the talking, arms loose at her sides with her palms open towards him. Her dress only served to accentuate the posture, the laced frill of its long sleeves framing her pale hands like the lip of a lily.

“Do my feet offend you?” Melpomene spoke at last, standing no more than a few feet from the man. “They're very clean, and it is as I naturally am. One can hardly swim with shoes, and these scales provide what protection I need.” Here, the konti partially lifted one foot, gliding it away from her and grounding it on her toes, turning it just enough to reveal some of its pearly underside. As she'd promised, the skin on the rest of her foot was pristine as well, the creamy pink of her nails trimmed and smooth enough to have been polished.

“And yes, Tuuli gave me this dress. Is it to your liking?” Melpomene smiled, at this point feeling more flirtatious than nervous, but how could it be helped? He insisted on seeing her alone, on looking at her, and while there was nothing particularly amorous about his frigid gaze, the calm of his inner music was soothing and brought out her most natural reaction. She was even amused to see how he would respond—though her tone was nothing more than benign, the artist that craved attention was dying for something more than flat approval or dismissal.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Valerius cast a glance at her feet. They looked clean, but he didn’t like the shape of them. He didn’t find webbed toes particularly appealing, but the rest of her was beautiful enough. He could tolerate webbed toes, he decided. „Your feet are fine“, he replied. „You may walk around barefoot as long as you clean your feet every time before you enter my suite. If one of my guests complains about the fact that you are barefoot though, you will wear shoes. It is important that my slaves make a good impression on my guests.“ „Your dress is likewise acceptable, although it is a little plain. Such a plain dress might suit Tuuli with her dark skin, but I want you to wear something a little more extravagant.“ He didn’t appreciate her flirtatious smile, but the expression on his face remained indifferent. He finally rose from his chair and walked around her inspecting her from all angles much as one would inspect a valuable new possession. Finally he nodded and met her eyes for a moment before he abruptly turned to a chest that sat next to his bed. „I initially wanted a slave that would help Tuuli with her work around the house, but you mentioned that you are a musician and know how to play the harp. I want you to play for me, with me, when we are alone together. I want you to accompagny me on the harp while I sing, and I want you to help me improve.“ „But you are not allowed to talk about this to anybody. It would ruin my carefully cultivated reputation. I wish to gain Rhysol’s favour, receive his mark and become my aunt Amanda’s equal. If it became known that I make music – with a slave no less – people would think I’ve grown soft, and I’m no weakling. Is that understood?“ He opened the chest and removed a small harp made of black wood. It was a fine instrument and clearly expensive. He touched the strings of the harp, playing a few sounds, and then he handed it to her. „Now show me how good exactly you are. Play something for me, a song of your people.“

[Melenna]

It should have been infuriating—being told how she was to dress, what parts of her were fine. The look-over Valerius was giving her was no different from how he had examined her at the slave market, likely noting every imperfection on her too-slim frame. The problem lay in how relaxed he had allowed her to become, how he hadn't yet threatened her or cut her off. Instead of being miffed by a male's cold scrutiny, she was amused, almost moved to laugh. He reminded the konti of a girl fussing over her dolls, brushing the hair until it was just right and finding the perfect dress to slip on. Even if there wasn't much to say for the man's charm, he seemed to have an eye for detail. If she was lucky, he'd have good taste, too.

It was hard to resist the urge to turn and follow Vaerius' gaze as he circled around her. Melpomene tensed, her cheeks warming slightly. She could barely maintain her gentle posture, knees turning in to each other as her arms itched to wrap back around herself. But he never touched her! Her smile withered, eyes wide, but something warmer colored her features when he mentioned better clothes. By the time he'd finished talking about her playing for him, she'd forgotten that she had been ordered to make music and was practically on her toes.

“I... I...” Melpomene's hands trembled as she was handed the instrument, excitement and dread pulsing strong enough inside that she felt almost sick. If her fingers weren't so busy trying not to drop the thing, she would have examined the quality of the sound and the feel of the wood. As it was, however, she was at a complete loss at what to do. Valerius' requests left so many questions in her head, things she knew she shouldn't ask, but so badly wanted to. She needed a distraction, anything to keep the slight pleasantness of the present from being crushed under the guilt that came from holding an instrument again. So she took a risk.

“I am very happy to play anything for you, but... but it has been hours since I tasted a single drop of water and more since that I had anything to keep inspiration out of my stomach. It must seem a brazen request and I am sorry, but my voice and my work will surely do little for one of... of such refinened taste as yours if it is not at its best.” The konti offered a sheepish smile, her chin dipped as she looked to the man. He hadn't exactly been kind, but he seemed reasonable. Food and drink would buy her some time to prepare, as well as opening up an opportunity for her to ask him what was on her mind.

“Oh! And I wouldn't dare tell anyone if you would not wish it.” Here, Melpomene reached to touch his shoulder, just the lightest gesture to punctuate her sincerity, but she thought better of it, instead clasping both hands firmly on the harp's frame. “After all, any harm to you is done to me as well, isn't it?”

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„Don’t stutter“, he said to her as he handed her the instrument. „I don’t like it. And don’t drop the harp. I don’t want to have to replace it.“ He was about to sit down again and listen to her play when she asked for food and drink. He frowned. He was aboout to deny her request and tell her that he would reward her with something to eat and drink when she had played a song for him when she mentioned his refined taste. She had not been here for a day yet, but she already seemed to know how to deal with him. „You will receive some water and a light meal now. I hope that your song will be worth it.“ He walked past her, over to the door, without looking at her. She could see that a bell hung on the wall next to the door. Valerius rang it, and a while later one of the numerous slaves of House Nitrozian – not Tuuli, thank the gods – appeared. The man bowed deeply and asked, „What do you wish, master?“ He looked past Valerius into the suite where Melpomene was standing, but didn’t ask about her. It wasn’t his business. „My new slave needs something to eat and drink“, Valerius informed him. „Of course, master“, the slave replied and disappeared only to return a few moments later with a platter that contained a pitcher of water, a glass and a plate with some bread, cheese and vegetables. He set the platter down on the large table in the middle of the room and then left again. „Eat and drink if you must“, Valerius told her and then returned to his chair by the balcony door. He wouldn’t sit with her while she had her meal. A Nitrozian never ate with a slave.

[Melenna]

Melpomene glanced between Valerius and the lunch on the table. Her tongue became wet just looking at the water sitting there, so innocent, so silent and clear and wonderful. It took almost all of her self control not to jump to the thing and guzzle it down—instead, she had to slowly, painfully make each delicate step towards the table. She glanced back at her master, almost certain that he might change his mind just to be cruel, but as usual, he kept his distance and didn't say anything outside of orders. The lack of real conversation was starving her, but she had to be grateful. Thus far, Valerius hadn't threatened her once, not even bothering to tell her what might happen if she continued stuttering or dropped his harp.

Not that those things could be helped. The konti said nothing to chide the man, but for the first time, a solitary brow rose at him. Valerius made her nervous, and yet he didn't—her reactions were almost bipolar because she didn't know what to think. She was intimidated by his dark masculinity, a feature he shared with her captors who had proved to be stronger and more vicious than she; she was amused by his sense of possession, how he could think himself master over one as skilled and old as she; she was flustered by his striking features, unsure of how to approach one so cold and yet full of the tenacious beauty of youth. But Valerius had conceded to give her a meal, and if he could be kind enough to offer that, perhaps he would tolerate a little honest feedback.

Of course, the konti wasn't going to risk that when he could take her food away. When Valerius retreated back to his chair, she offered a shallow curtsey, a light smile on her face. “You are kind, and I thank you. A generous heart, I think, will understand my music better. We konti have many songs and stories, but we make it a practice to absorb all else that is good in the world. Perhaps you will become the subject of one such tune?”

Melpomene turned away from the man to set the harp flat against the table, then settling herself into one of the chairs to eat her meal. Her lips pursed as she saw the plainness of the dish and its lack of fruit, but the thick bread and cheese would at least settle her stomach without offending her tongue. She also noticed the lack of a knife for thinning out cheese for the bread, but didn't dare sigh or roll her eyes for fear of offending her ever-watching master. Hadn't the last slave murdered a dinner guest or something? She'd be surprised if she was even offered a fork. For the time being, it seemed the cook was content to simply give her finger food.

The konti ate slowly, soon coming to admire the rich and moist texture of the wheat bread and the soft creaminess of the cheese. Even the carrots and celery were fresh, though she had to be very careful, as she didn't want any loud snapping to win Valerius' ire. Personally, she wouldn't have tolerated it, as eating in front of others without food was terribly rude in her mind, but it had been his decision. She could hardly feel bad for him when she was certain he'd be receiving a much more elaborate meal when he was hungry. Rather than thinking on him further, she indulged herself in the water, letting it fill her dry mouth before she swallowed. There was nothing quite like a good drink for a semi-aquatic woman—her whole body eased at its touch, making the scales tingle as it ran all the way down into her stomach.

When Melpomene was finished, having left no drop of water and hardly any crumbs on her plate, she carefully wiped her fingers with a provided napkin, then looking about for a water basin to rinse her hands. She should have been more mindful of Valerius' sense of cleanliness, but even she wouldn't touch an instrument without making sure she had no oils or food residue that could harm such fine craftsmanship. When she was finished, she remained near the table, standing up only to lean against it as she faced Valerius.

“I understand your need for privacy, but if you wanted the fullness of music I can offer, I would need a real harp—one of normal size. A lyre has many beautiful features, but it lacks the range of sound and harmony.” Melpomene's head tilted slightly to the side, her lips thinning into a more sober line. “I cannot help but wonder, though, why you wish to learn a craft your god may disapprove of. To hide it from others makes sense, but if you seek favor, why would you want it if it would threaten that in any way? I ask not to question you, but because I am concerned for you. I cannot help you if I cannot be honest with you, and certainly not if you are not resolved.”

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Valerius watched Melpomene from a distance as she ate. The slave had forgotten to provide her with a fork and a knife. He would need to punish him later on. He had been worried that it would look disgusting if she ate with her fingers and that she would get food on her clothes, the table and the floor, but it didn’t look too bad. The Konti, he was pleased to note, had good table manners and was careful. And he had only paid 300 golden mizas for her! Had she really called him kind though? He arched an eyebrow as he heard that. Valerius didn’t think of himself as kind and generous, and he didn’t know if he wanted to be seen as such either. Weaklings were kind and generous, fools, those cursed Syliran Knights! „I don’t think so“, he replied as she wondered if perhaps he would become the subject of a tune. „You don’t know anything about me, and I won’t appreciate it if you just make assumptions about me.“ „Ring the bell and ask a slave to bring you something to wash your hands with“, he told her when he saw that she had finished her meal. „As for a real harp, I might be willing to buy one once you have proved to me that you have mastered this small one here. A harp will cost a considerable amount of money, money that I do not want to waste on nothing.“ He considered her next question. She was just a slave. He didn’t need to answer and explain himself, but for once he didn’t mind. He was in a comparatively good mood, and he wanted her to be in a good mood as well so that she would play a better song for him. „My god doesn’t exactly disapprove of such interests. Rhysol doesn’t mind what you do as long as you are faithful to him. But people that play music, that sing and appreciate poetry are soft, and I don’t want to be seen as such. If you were one of my enemies, would you fear me anymore, knowing that I play the harp and associate with one of my slaves in such a way?“ „And do no be concerned for me. As I said before, you don’t know anything about me.“