Possessions

Alaliya looked down at the men kneeling before her. All three obediently kept their eyes on the floor near her feet. She wondered how long that would last. They were not submissive men; they were just well trained. But even training could be overridden with enough anger.

Delicately, Alaliya plucked another strawberry from the platter being held by a slave near her side. She took a small bite out of it, then gently threw it at the man kneeling in the middle. He was a well-built man with defined muscles and tanned skin. He wore his hair down his back, nearly to his waist, as all the warriors from his country did. When his eyes snapped up, anger bordering on rage darkened them even more from their dark chocolate.

"Come here to me, pet." She purred, crooking a finger at him. When he remained still, glaring at her, she threw her head back and laughed at his stubbornness. "Oh, don't pout, my new pet. Your king lost the war. His corpse decorates my king's keep. His whore wife gave his generals in exchange for her own miserable life."

All three men tensed at the insult to their queen. Alaliya rose from her seat. Slowly, swaying her hips as she walked with narrowed eyes to the middle man, who was still glaring daggers at her. She crouched down, placing herself eye level with him.

"Do you still feel loyalty to that harlot? She traded your freedom. Gave you over to a life of slavery. And do you know where she is now? She's in my King's dungeon, with that overused slot of hers filled with-"

She was abruptly cut off as the man's fist connected with her face. She found herself on her butt, sprawled back. When she looked up, she was surprised to see the other two generals holding the man in place, whispering to him in their language, instead of her own guards. Even as his countrymen tried to restrain him, the man spat curses at her, both in her language and his. Well, she admitted, even if only to herself, that was unexpected.

"Bring him here." She hissed. She didn't even try to hide her rage as her guards kicked the two men away and dragged the third to his feet. It took a few moments, but eventually they had him restrained on the chair that had been previously brought up from the dungeon, his arms, legs, waist and chest held immobile and a gag in his mouth. She walked around him slowly as he continued to spout curses at her through the gag. Alaliya glanced over her shoulder, ensuring her guard would be able to control the other two. She sucked in her breath, donning her lighthearted demeanor once more, even as blood tickled from her lip.

"Hmm... It seems that perhaps you were not informed of your place. Maybe your Queen didn't feel it necessary to explain to you your new status. Or maybe she was just too busy trying to save her own life. But I will be kind enough to do what your slut queen neglected to." She walked slowly around him, trailing a finger as she went. She spoke matter of factly, as if she really believed he didn't know this information. "Your king lost the war. Instead of going peacefully to her death, she offered her dead husband's five best war generals in return for her pathetic life. She chose to give you all up as slaves to save herself. My husband, as the king's second in command, and his recently diseased brother, the king's third in command, were so loyal that we were gifted with new playthings. The one we choose will be gifted to the wife of my husband's brother. However, before we send one of you to her, I have to make sure that you are trained well enough that you won't upset my poor, grieving, widowed, sister. You," Standing behind him, she gripped the man's hair and forced him to look up at her, "obviously are not."

She hummed as she twisted his hair into a braid. The two men still kneeling on the floor looked at her, confused. She was sure the man strapped to the dungeon chair was equally confused. It wasn't until he heard the distinct sound of a blade being unsheathed that he began to struggle again. The men on the floor tried to lunge forward, to help their friend, but they were greatly outnumbered and the guards easily held them down. Calmly she started sawing back and forth at the braid. The man struggled wildly, but she held it tight. It only took a moment before the braid was in her hand, detached from his head. As soon as he felt the tension break, the man hung his head in defeat.

Alaliya looked down at the man for a moment, thinking what to say or do next, before a soft sound alerted her to another presence. Damn! How long had she been there? Hastily Alaliya whipped the blood from her lip, hoping her Brother-in-law's wife hadn't seen it. "Sarantha? What are you doing out here? You should be resting." Alaliya asked gently.

The petite woman walked slowly into the room, taking in the looks on everyone's faces. She looked soft. She was a beautiful woman with soft skin and beautiful chocolate hair that hung slightly past her shoulders. Her ice green eyes were lined with kohl, which brought out their sparking even more. Her large belly showed she was late in her pregnancy and looked almost disproportionate to her small stature. "Why did you do that, sister?" Even her voice was overly gentle.

"It was a punishment, darling. He is ok, just a little upset."

The man jerked in his restraints at the casual remark. Sarantha slowly circled to stand in front of him. She crouched down to his eye level and, ignoring his snarl, gently cupped his face in her hand, her thumb gently feathering over his cheek.

"It really is ok. It is just hair. It will grow back, I promise. My hair was cut short only a few months ago, on the front. See how long it is now?" She said soothingly. There was no hint of sarcasm or condescension in her voice. She really was trying to soothe the man. The man, recognizing this, simply blinked at her, finding it difficult to direct his anger at such a gentle creature.

"Sister? Why aren't you resting? The healer said you need more rest." Alaliya brought the attention back to her original inquiry.

"I can't rest." Sarantha said with a sigh. "There are servants and slaves in my room and they keep looking at me and I feel like a fat cow about to be butchered. Is this one mine?"

"No!" Alaliya snapped. "Stop trying to change the subject of our conversation. You know very well the servants and slaves are there to see to your care. The healer said-- what are you doing?" Alaliya couldn't quite keep the exasperation from her voice. Truly, Sarantha had no idea of the real workings of the world. She was far too gentle, too caring, and far too forgiving.

Sarantha ignored the question and finished removing the gag from the man's mouth. "You will speak respectfully or I will put it back. Do you understand, general?"

The man pressed his lips together, but gave a curt nod.

"How much of our language do you understand?" Sarantha asked softly.

"I am fluent in it."

"'Ma'am'" Sarantha corrected. "You must show proper respect when you speak. Do you understand?"

"Yes Ma'am." He said simply.

"Do the other generals speak my language fluently as well?" She inquired, glancing at them.

"Yes Ma'am."

"What is your name?" She cupped his cheek again, her finger resuming its gentle feathering.

"Raikol, Ma'am."

"And theirs?" She nodded at the kneeling men, still surrounded by guards.

"Drimelk and Trivalm, Ma'am."

Sarantha smiled, rising back to her feet. "See, sister? Sometimes kindness works just as well."

Alaliya gave her a droll look. "Perhaps nobody taught him that."

Sarantha just shook her head. "Which one is mine?"

"Sister," Alaliya said with a sigh, "when we decide which is best suited for you, you will have your gift. We are not trying to keep anything from you, we just want to ensure your safety. What if you had been the one he struck? What if he would have harmed your child?"

"He struck you?" Sarantha asked, glancing at the man in the dungeon chair, Raikol. "What did you do?"

A deep laugh answered her question.

Both women turned to watch Ehrik, flanked by two of his captains, enter the room, a mischievous grin on his face. He immediately went to his wife, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her neck, grinning the whole time. "She knows you too well, my beautiful wife. What did you do that he struck you?"

The generals watched their new Master's antics with tense muscles. He seemed far too relaxed for man whose wife was just assaulted by a slave. They had also heard stories of this man's battles. There was a reason why he was gifted with two war slaves, where no other had been.

"I was simply telling them of their queen's new accommodations in the King's dungeon. He struck me before I could explain how much she was enjoying them."

Ehrik just chuckled before turning to his brother's widow, ignoring the now snarling men. "My darling sister, you look more radiant each passing day." He gallantly took her delicate hand in his much rougher one and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "However, as much as I adore your company, the healer has given her instructions that you are to rest for a few hours every morning and evening. Two short naps should not be difficult to manage, especially when it is for the benefit of your unborn child. Hmmm?"

"Brother," Sarantha retained his hand, wrapping both of hers around it. "I rest for most of the day. The only time I am allowed out of my room is for meals, and even then I am rarely allowed to walk. The slaves and servant stand there, watching me, instead of seeing to their duties. I have had no pain, no dizziness and no bleeding in weeks. Other women who are with child are allowed to be active. Slaves and servants have children while still performing their daily duties, and their children are born perfectly healthy. My child will be born colicky."

"Their duties are to see to your care. And other women did not suffer the trauma you did. I hear what you are not saying, little sister." He gently pulled the smaller woman into his arms, stroking her hair back softly. It was such a gentle act that the generals watching the scene unfold were startled at the brotherly kindness the war general displayed. "You are not a burden. This is your home, until you decide to move on. If for the rest of your life you require every single one of my servants, every single one of my slaves, to see to your care, you would still not be a burden. You are my sister and I love you more than you believe."

Sarantha tried to control herself but her slight body began to tremble and tears began to leak from her eyes. Her small frame was wracked with the force of her sobs. "I just want my husband to see to my care. What happens when the King decides I require a new husband? I will be taken away and my child will be ripped from my arms and I will not be your sister and-"

Ehrik stopped her panicked rambling with a tender finger to her lips. He tipped her face up to look into her eyes. "You will not be taken away from us. The King has allowed you to remain here, and it is his intention to continue to allow it. He believes that between you, Alaliya and I we will be able to manage both holdings until the time that your child would inherit what is theirs. The King is more than grateful for your husband's valor on the battlefield, and his kindness to you is the only way he is able to repay your husband's sacrifice. You are not going anywhere." He continued to hold her until she calmed. "I will make you a bargain. Go back to your room now and rest, and I promise before dinner I will speak to the healer about reducing your restrictions." At Sarantha's sniffle and nod, Ehrik turned to his wife. "My love, would be kind enough to escort Sarantha to her rooms?"

"Of course, husband." Alaliya smiled, holding her hand out to the smaller woman. "Come, sister." She sent one knowing glance over her shoulder as she passed through the doorway. She was cold when she needed to be, but she loved her husband, and could see the turbulence beneath his calm demeanor.

Ehrik watched the two women leave with a slight smile still on his face. However, the moment they were out of sight, his entire demeanor changed. His harsh gaze landed on the guards. "How, with six guards here, did a slave manage to strike my wife?" Rage and disgust dripped from his voice. "Perhaps after a proper beating and some time working the dungeons you will take your job duties a little more seriously." The men were near trembling under their general's glare. "Leave!" He barked the order and all six men hurried to obey. Finally, his gaze fell to Raikol, still strapped into the dungeon chair. "Please understand," His voice was kinder than it had been with his guards, but still held anger. "I hold no malice for your people. I even respect all three of you, and your skill in battle. However, in present circumstances you are no longer generals, but slaves. And I cannot allow a slave to strike my wife, harm her, without being properly punished." With no warning, Ehrik punched the restrained man in his abdomen, hard enough to leave him gasping for air. He didn't even glance in the direction of the other generals, trusting his captains to restrain them if necessary. It was. "If you were any of my regular slaves, you would be punished far harsher, but I feel your current circumstances and the emotional blow my wife has already dealt you-" He ran his hand through the man's now shorter hair, "should be taken into account as well."

Ehrik delivered several more blows to the man's abdomen, keeping them spaced apart enough to ensure that he felt each one, before landing several more blows to the man's face.

Ehrik cupped Raikol's face, ignoring the blood dripping from his nose, mouth and cheeks. "If you ever touch my wife without permission again, slave or not, I will cut off your hands. Slowly. Over weeks. Knuckle by knuckle. Do you understand?"

Raikol could only manage a small nod. Ehrik looked him in the eyes for a moment before leaning over and connecting his knee to Raikol's face in a blow hard enough to leave the man dizzy and fighting to keep his head up.

As Ehrik turned back to his captains, Alaliya entered the room. She gasped as she walked around the chair and saw the general's face, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

"He will not be going to my brother's wife." Ehrik said simply as he changed direction and walked to his still gaping wife.

He slid one hand to rest on her lower back, while the other gently cupped her chin, tipping her head to allow him to inspect her face. He gently feathered his thumb over her cheek, wincing in sympathy when she tried to pull away from the touch. He pressed gentle kisses over the already swollen flesh, careful not to cause any pain.

"It's already swelling and bruising." He murmered softly. "You need to be more careful, my love. What did you expect, taunting him like that? Especially when you knew he wasn't properly restrained."

Alaliya was not going to admit that her goal had been to make one of them lose their temper, not in front of them at least. So she just nuzzled into her husband and murmured, "Yes, husband."

After a few moments, Ehrik sighed. "Trivalm will be going to Sarantha."

"Are you sure that is wise, Sir?" One of the captain's asked. He was obviously one of the favored ones to feel free to question his superior. "You know his reputation on the battlefield."

Ehrik smirked, "I also know his reputation with women. Sarantha needs soothing or her child will be born colicky. Plus, rumor has it that Deimelk despises children and I will not risk him doing something stupid that causes harm to my niece."

Alaliya, still cradled in his arms, looked up at him. "You always say niece, husband. How are you so sure?"

With a full bellied laugh, Ehrik pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Only a woman could cause as much trouble as that child has caused."

Alaiya gave him the droll look that she had perfected, before glancing over her shoulder at the captains. "Would you two be kind enough to deal with the new slaves?" There was a twinkle in her eye that the captain's obviously recognized and had them grinning. She turned back to her husband, feathering her lips over his jaw line as she murmured, "I need to show my husband just how much 'trouble' a woman can be."

Alaliya didn't wait for a response. Her hand trailed down her husband's chest, over his abdomen, to brush gently over his groin suggestively, before sliding to his hands and pulling him through the door, neither of them bothering to look back for confirmation.