Closed A Trip to the Pit

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Summer 15, 513 AV Somebody was knocking on the door of Melenna’s room. The sound was loud and annoying, and it wouldn’t stop unless she opened. Tuuli, Valerius‘ other slave was standing outside, smiling a very fake smile. When she was with Valerius, the dark skinned girl was almost unnaturally submissive – she worshipped the very ground that her master walked on – but as soon as he was out of sight, she showed her real face. She was jealous of the Konti who had occuped so much of Valerius‘ time and his thoughts recently. The girl was as always dressed in white. In her floor length silk dress she looked like the epitome of an innocent young maiden. Her black curls fell over her shoulders. Tuuli, for all her flaws, was very pretty. „The Master wants you to come to his quarters right now“, she informed Melenna, not bothering to greet her. „He wants to visit the Pit. For once I’m glad that he wants you to accompagny him instead of me. The Pit is brutal. Who knows, maybe he’s finally gotten tired of you and will make you fight there?“ She turned around. Before she was out of the door she remarked, obviously having forgotten something, „Oh, and you are supposed to put on a nice dress. You know where the clothes for the slaves are. The Master apparently wants you to look good while they beat you up.“ ~~~~~ Valerius was indeed waiting for her in his quarters. The grandson of Sitanos Nitrozian, the head of the family, was sitting in in his elegant arm chair, arms on the arm rest, not moving, as if he were waiting for somebody to paint him. His copper hair had been cut recently. It was a little shorter than it had been. He was dressed in a very fine white silk shirt, black pants and black leather boots, as if he weren't going to a place where people beat each other up, but somewhere fancier. The balcony door behind him was open and a light breeze drifted into the room. It was summer in Ravok, and while Rhysol made sure that his people never suffered too much because of the weather, it was warmer than it had been. „Ah, Melenna“, he remarked. „Did Tuuli tell you what I want from you? We will take the ravosala today. It’s warm, and I’m not in the mood to walk.“

[Melenna]

Melenna had been leisurely enjoying the day, sprawled out on a rather plain bed. She had learned not to mind the small room with its equally plain furniture—privacy was a wonderful thing to have, and it was a commodity most slaves didn't get. Thus, when a familiar rapping came on her door, she was slow to answer it, taking care to pat down a few stray hairs and to adjust the yoke of her dress. By pure reflex, she had smiled at the dark haired woman that stood before her, only nodding at the news and thanking Tuuli for delivering the message. She had learned not to take most of the things Tuuli said in relation to Valerius seriously—he was neither a perfect god nor a pointlessly cruel man.

But Melenna still had to spite the jealous slave somehow. When selecting her clothes for the outing, she chose a “nice” dress, but one that was smoldering red with a neckline that asked a few more questions than it ought to. It was made of satin and sleeveless, utterly plain without feminine curves to fill it. The one adornment it did have was a rose embroidered ribbon tied just below the bust, leaving the rest of the dress to fold as it liked along her hips and ankles. It was a daring venture for a slave, but a style she was not unfamiliar nor uncomfortable in. She was too graceful, too proud to be a harlot and too confident in Valerius's cold nature to be embarrassed.

When the konti finally made her way to Valerius, his greeting was kinder than she had expected. She was in a fabulous mood after having paraded herself in front of Tuuli, and had to keep herself from laughing before he even finished his explanations. Once her mirth died down enough for her to maintain a more stoic expression, she allowed herself a moment to take the man in, getting a better sense of his mood and intentions. He was dressed as immaculately as always, so tense that she was sure his back was throbbing (if he was still capable of feeling, at any rate), but there was something about the warm air, the smell of laziness that made him seem more pleasant. She could, for the briefest moment, imagine him unbuttoning his collar and slumping in his seat as he read a good book.

But that was only a moment, and Valerius did have an end to his patience. Melenna offered a deep curtsey, but couldn't help her bright smile. “I was told that I am to fight in the pit today, and thus find it needful to request your harp in order to defend myself. If that is too much to ask, however, I do not fear loss—I am still armed with my charm. I also agree that it is not meet to break your radiance with a needless sweat and look forward to accompanying you on a boat.”

OoC: Sorry for the wait! Internet issues and stuff has made it difficult to get on Mizahar.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„You look … acceptable“, Valerius remarked as Melenna stood in front of him. The colour of her dress was a little too intense – Valerius generally preferred muted colours – but still, it suited her. Without a doubt she would attract the attention of more than one man – and some women – that day, and attracting attention was what it was all about in the end. Valerius didn’t visit the Pit because he enjoyed watching people kill each other, at least not only, but to see and be seen. „Who told you that you are to fight though? It was Tuuli, wasn’t it? She tends to have a strange sense of humour.“ He didn’t laugh or smile as he said that, but frowned. He would need to have a word with her when they were back. He didn’t appreciate it that Tuuli lied to Melenna and tried to make her life miserable. He needed them to get along. If they argued and fought, it would reflect badly on him. People would assume that he was a weakling that couldn’t control a pair of women. „I don’t want you to fight“, he informed her. „I simply want you to accompagny me and watch the fights with me. I want to show the other spectators what a rare and exotic slave I have. You may take the harp with you though if you want to. You know where it is. Maybe there’ll be an opportunity for you to play for us after the fights are over.“ He gestured towards the chest where the harp was hidden, and then he rose from his chair and walked over to the door. „Now come. The ravosalaman and his boat are waiting for us outside. There’ll be refreshments for us on the boat as well. I do not like the things they sell at the Pit. Their wine often tastes more like vinegar, and you never know whether they wash the glasses before they use them again.“

[Melenna]

It was all the Konti could do to keep from exploding with laughter. The midnight of her eyes nearly glowed as her lips twitched, hands clasped behind her back as she kept the poise of a lady. There she was, a shining creature of legend with scales of pearl and the divine brand of a goddess on her skin, and the best this young man could muster for her presence was acceptable. Really, she ought to be offended—even the common human lady deserved to be reminded that she was at least pretty in the ruffles of a silken dress—but she imagined that the poor soul rarely entertained women at all. He was pride and business, the peak of intellect and apathy, and it made him perfectly irresistible to tease.

“How disappointing. I was hoping to woo the battlefield in your name, but it seems I shall have to be satisfied as an acceptable spectator.” The next part Melenna had to be a little careful with—betraying too much enthusiasm at the idea of a boat ride would tempt the contemptible man to disappoint her. “In the meantime, I shall be happy to share my voice alone—bringing so fine an instrument as yours would run the risk of damage or misplacement. But... it does seem a little warm outside for so fine a man as you—is there some manner of parasol or other instrument I may use to protect the both of us from Ravok's gentle sun?”

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Valerius did of course notice that Melenna was trying hard not to laugh. He couldn’t help but wonder why this was the case. Had he said or done something funny? He had never understood humour particularly well, he just knew that he didn’t like her behaviour. He frowned at her for a moment before he replied, in a somewhat dry tone of voice, „If you want to … woo … the battlefield it can be arranged. How would you woo it though? In a gown, with a harp in your hand, singing a song about the wonders of Konti Isle? Would it be a fight of musicians rather than a fight of warriors?“ The idea seemed fairly ridiculous to him, and yet some people would probably pay to be able to watch a couple of women make music and occasionally try to beat each other up. If Valerius had been a little less conservative and worried about his reputation, he might even have arranged something like that. But as it was, he just walked over to the chest where he kept his harp, opened it and handed the instrument to her. „Take it“, he told her. „There are finer instruments, besides I like it better when you sing and play the harp.“ „As for a parasol, look into that wardrobe over there.“ He pointed at the large wardrobe that stood at the right wall. „You should find a parasol made of fine white cloth there.“ Valerius occasionally walked around with a parasol as well during the summer, even though such a thing might be considered feminine by some. He valued his pale skin. He didn’t want to get a sunburn or a tan like those commoners that had to work all day long.

[Melenna]

Melenna couldn't help her laughing, a light, tinkling sound that made her delicate chest swell as it hadn't in weeks. “The gods are kind—yes, terribly kind—and to think I assumed you had no imagination! Indeed, my fair master, I would have faced your fiercest champions with music and laid them low with the overwhelming beauty of Mura's prose. But it seems such a battle must live only within our heads, for I fear it may never be a reality in Ravok. A shame, no?”

With her dark eyes glinting and her lips delightedly turned upwards, Melenna accepted Valerius' harp, holding it gingerly against her chest. When he mentioned a parasol, she walked to the wardrobe, taking it out and swinging it in one lazy circle before placing its nose on the ground in front of her like a gentleman's cane. “You are prepared for every fine detail—it is quite inspiring. Unfortunately, it also brings about a question. Am I to walk behind you, where the shade of this fine instrument will not cover you, or shall I be on your arm where I may best protect you? If my touch should make you nervous, I am sure you will be relieved to know that I took great care in bathing this morning. No flakes, no dirt, just scales and skin polished for your taste.”

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„Only one god is kind“, Valerius corrected her. „Rhysol is the only one that matters. You’d do well to remember that.“ He paused for a moment and simply looked at her. As he spoke again his voice was a hint softer. One could almost think that he was amused. „I do have some small amount of imagination, but I prefer to use it for science rather than to waste it on stupid jokes and stories that don’t get me anywhere.“ As she said that it was a shame that such a battle of music would never happen in Ravok, he shrugged his shoulders. Her comment hadn’t been important enough to actually waste words on it. „I’m always prepared, for everything“, he confirmed. As she spoke about walking next to him and touching him, he frowned. Valerius Nitrozian didn’t like being touched, especially by a woman, but the prospect of getting a sunburn was even less appealing. And thus he glanced at her hands that did indeed seem clean, almost as clean as his own, and then he decided, „You may walk next to me. You may even touch me as long as you hold your hand still. My arm is covered by my shirt, and thus you cannot do any harm.“ „And now come. The ravosala is waiting for us.“ Another man might have offered her his arm right now, but Valerius walked out of his suite in front of her so that she would have to follow him like a good slave, carrying both the harp and the parasol. Since the sun wasn’t shining inside his house, there was no need for her to be directly next to him, protecting him right now.

[Melenna]

“Oh, I am honored.” And in the oddest way, Melenna was. She hadn't actually expected him to let her so close—close enough to touch him for an extended period of time. It wasn't as though she had something perverted in mind, but Valerius was just the sort of man who had an absurdly solid personal bubble. He had never seemed fond of handshaking (if he did, indeed, shake hands at all), nor handling anything touched by another person (unless it managed to pass his standards of cleanliness), so it seemed genuinely curious that he should let an inhuman woman touch his arm—or rather, shirt. Because sleeves had always been known to be impenetrable barriers to cooties or whatever ravaging disease konti women had.

Really, Valerius, you have the strangest way of justifying things. Is it possible you're as curious as I am to see what happens when I touch you? The thought made Melenna smirk as Valerius promptly stepped out in front of her, for he was ever the picture of gentlemanly command. It left her only with the problem of how she was going to hold his harp, parasol, and arm at the same time without looking entirely silly. Her eyes wandered all about the empty hall as she pondered the problem. She didn't feel like bothering Valerius about it, and thus took to stealing two tasseled cords from one of the grand curtains they passed. Without a word (and certainly while he wasn't looking), she tied one cord at a time on, forming simple loops on either side of the harp's frame that she could slip her arms into. The slight invention may have even passed as a legitimate harness, for the cords were of fine black silk, and quite perfect for the purpose she'd made for them.

Melenna carefully straightened herself up again after the harp was resting comfortably against her back, her free hand on her hip as she walked with the parasol's nose nearly brushing the ground. It wasn't much longer to the door, and she was curious to see if Valerius would notice anything—and more curious yet, if he was truly willing to walk with a slave at his side.

OoC: Eesh, hope this wasn't too rusty.