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Blessed & Cursed (Yuna & Alvis Alendran's 1x1)

Gerda paused, and turned back to face Sophitia.
"Did you know that you are the first of the Greeks to actually ask that of us?" She said, a smile on her face. She seemed genuinely amused. "We are Scyldings, descended from great king Shild Scefing. And our people are known better to the lands as the Normani. Or the Norse." She answered, not small amount of pride in her words. She turned back to setting her armour on the stand, and then sighed, stretching. Gerda was not a small woman, standing more than five and a half feet, and despite the slender look of her frame, her arms showed very clear muscle tone. It was obvious that the arts of war were not a hobby of her, but a serious vocation.

"And you Atenians. Do you claim to be of descent from your goddess? Or just her favoured children?" Gerda asked. It seemed fair to trade questions and answers.
 
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Suddenly, Sophitia felt embarrassed and naive. But she'd been taught of many different things, few of which included outside cultures. Well, not many outside of Greece or Rome, at least. Her head shook no as her cheeks flushed red in slight mortification. "N-no ... I didn't know. I wasn't very well taught in diverse cultures outside of Greece or Rome." She went silent to listen, taking all the information and remembering it all.

As Sophitia got a chance to look at Gerda without seeming as if staring too much, she realized she was about two to three inches shorter than the Norse female. Most likely a lot lighter in weight, though and certainly less muscular. Her head then tilted up to think on a fair answer to the question. Finally, her head shook no. "From what I have been taught and informed ... no. We're neither descendants of Athena or her favorites. Our gods almost never pick certain mortals to be like that. I .... know that probably sounds hypocritical with how I have my own ... abilities of sorts. But ... I'm truly not sure why or how I was given this gift and curse, chosen among so many others. Overall though, they really don't do these sorts of tasks normally."
 
"It seems to me that the Greeks find little interest in anythihng beyond their own borders. Did you not face a great threat ages ago, an invasion from the North? The...what was it now...Persians? From that, your people should have sent envoys to all distant lands, explored byond your little sea, and found a place in the greater scheme of the lands. Instead, they seemed to have gone back to the way things were, warring amongst yourselves, fighting endlessly without gains." Gerda shook her head, realizing she was getting into a rant. She let out a long, slow breath to find a calm center for herself.

"Well, I am to apprise you of duties. As a cupbearer, your task is simple at first. Ensure that Thorsson's cup never empties. Should he drain it, adn you fail to fill it within moments of it touching the table, it will likely become difficult for you." Gerda warned. "And it will not leave a good impression for the first day of your service." Gerda had done this task herself many times, not only for Thorsson, but for her father as well. But then she was known to the company as a fearsomely effective Shield Maiden, and it was an honour to have her as a cupbearer.

"You might find this place strange, but as long as it is known that you hold Thorsson's favour, no one will risk touching you. Lose that from him, and well, I'm sure you can guess."
 
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Sophitia's right hand tilted slightly in midair, a small smile on her face. "I ... think it depends what area one hails from. Spartans are more the type to expand and go on conquests. And ... Rome only dealt with the Persians. I ... have not heard of Greeks dealing with them. We don't always war against one another, more .. beliefs if I had to say anything." It was odd but made some sense. Despite how many Greeks, Athenians especially, worshipped the gods and goddesses, an equal amount had never once believed her to be able to be a Seer. Not until, of course, it was far too late. So to be able to believe the words of the gods but not hers, whom came directly from Hera ... it seemed hypocritical to Sophitia.

As Gerda went on to explain what she was to do, it did indeed seem simple enough. Her hands could certainly be fast when they needed to .. and during such times, Sophitia imagined she could succeed with being able to complete this task easily enough. Her anxieties and doubts faded more as she went on to say that as long as she kept favor with Thorsson, none could touch her. Well, none with enough common sense she supposed. There was that one ... Herliefr whom she was still a bit concerned of. But as long as she stayed under the watchful eyes, she tried not to think too much on him.

A small nod of confirmation left as Sophitia took another glance before making eye contact again with Gerda. "So ... you appraising do ... do I practice here and now then? Or ... how are you to go about that exactly?" If she was going to do anything whilst with the Norse, Sophitia desperately wanted it all to be correctly done. She could definitely put two and two together and she did not want to lose favor.
 
Gerda snorted.
"I assume you can fill a cup well enough, and if not, then I doubt anything I can do would change that." She said shaking her head, and moving to a chest at the foot of her bed, throwing it open. She began to pick through it, searching through cloth and leather for something she might be abel to wear to the feast. She was tossing clothes onto teh bed to get them out of the way. One of the things that landed was not what would be expected from Gerda. It was a long toga, purest white cloth that seemed to shimmer lightly, as though it was made from silk, but that would have made it terrifyingly expensive.

"Keep Thorsson happy. That's all I can tell you to make yourself as safe as you can be around here." She advised. She had selected a deep crimson dress, not fancy, but seeming well kept. Without pausing, she turned slightly, adn began stripping out of her the underpadding that she had worn beneath the armour. She seemed to have no real modesty at all in this place.
 
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Sophitia quickly went silent. Once again, she had felt and sounded pathetic in front of Gerda. Her head lowered slightly as she nodded, letting it raise as the sounds of rummaging caught her ears. She turned in time to see a gorgeous white toga. While she hadn't expected to see a familiar cloth from the Norse, Sophitia wouldn't dare complain. Her head slowly bowed in appreciation and after a quick glance, she noted maybe another reason the other woman had little to no qualms stripping before her.

There ... were few private areas in here. Actually, scratch that. There were none. Exhaling softly, she began walking forward, taking her own blue one off. As much as she loved it, it was a tad dirty, especially from being tackled onto the ground. Carefully unwrapping it from upon her skin, she folded it neatly and set it down upon the bed.

" ... Thank you ... for the outfit ... " She replied softly, beginning to put the new white toga on, concealing her 36Cs in the process.
 
Gerda turned to look at Sophitia.
"Hm? oh, that. Something we acquired so that I might be able to go into the cities without attracting too much attention. You'll likely get better use out of it than I." She said calmly, pulling the dress up over herself, ensuring it sat properly on her shoulders, and still fit her well. It was tighter across the back and shoulders than it had been before, but then she'd been far less trim the last time she wore it, having barely begun her real physical training to run with the skirmishers. "Well, we can get to the hall, adn see if the rest of the company is turning out for the feast yet."
 
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After finishing wrapping the toga firmly but gently around her lithe body, ensuring it wouldn't fall or be able to be pulled off, she gently straightened it out. A smile couldn't help but cross her face .. it looked even better than when it had merely been in view of her eyes. Now that it was upon her though .. Sophitia was appreciating the simple but significant cloth even more. It had seemed like thus far, she either wouldn't have to do her 'seeing' duties or it would be after the feast. Regardless, she was trying to keep her mind off worrying, assuming and hoping that the only reason she had yet to see anything was due to not having been in a temple in this new setting.

Gently pulling her hair from under the cloth, Sophitia gave Gerda a nod. "Alright then. I'm .. ready when you are." The phrase 'rest of the company' made her a tad uneasy too. She wasn't often good around crowds ... but she'd have to start getting used to it soon enough, more likely than not. She trusted Thorsson and Gerda well enough; it was mainly others that she couldn't yet say the same to.

A deep breath passed her lips as her feet prepared to follow behind, ensuring she'd be a tad closer than when she had been guided here. It hadn't exactly helped one of the men had already confessed how much he'd love to sleep with her; she had no idea if the number would increase when she was revealed to all of the others.
 
The hall was starting to fill up, but Gerda led Sophitia around to te back of the hall, and led her through the kitchen. Food was being prepared in great abundance, clearly a celebration was in order. Gerda barked a few words in her native tongue to one of the kithen staff, who swung a long wooden stick to part some of the kitchen hands, opening a path to allow Gerda and Sophitia through. There were three spits going, roasting meat. Two wild boars, and what looked like it might actually be a lion from the northern areas of Greece. Pots making stews and other rich foods boiled away, showing a riot of food based industry.

The hall had been changed, great feasting tables set up, including a large one before Thorsson's high seat. Gerda sighed, but took up a position aout three seats away from Thorsson's high seat, and pointed to a spot on the floor for Sophitia. She smiled as encouragingly as she could. There were close to eighty men in the hall so far, and more seemed to be massing outside. Quite a turnout.
 
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Hazel eyes silently glanced around the kitchen, watching all the food being prepared. Now that Sophitia thought about it ... she hadn't eaten since two days ago. She never had the chance to do so yesterday between her routine schedule and captivity. Any chance she could have had was dismissed with how quickly she fell asleep soon upon arriving here. Within a few more paces out of the kitchen, Sophitia found herself in the hall ... and felt her heart stop. She had to blink and do a double take upon noting all the seats.

... Truly?! There's ... going to be this many?! Oh gods ...

The urge to faint tried to take over, the lack of food she'd had in a while not helping out much. But she managed to follow behind Gerda, soon appearing at what was to be her seat supposedly. Her head bowed politely to the other female as she glanced down. She couldn't help but wonder ... why upon the floor? Was this a tradition she was unfamiliar with?

Her gaze stayed downward as Sophitia knelt down on her designated spot. She was too scared, too anxious to glance at the other Norse individuals. If Thorsson asked her to, she would. But on her own whim? She didn't know if she could without passing out.
 
Within a few moments, Gerda yielded her place to a man who arrived. He was a large one, barrel chested, but showing a lot of grey in his hair and beard. She took up a standing position behind his chair, and folded her hands. The man smiled at her, and she affectionately pat his shoulder. The two obviously got along well, and she'd been cupbearer for him quite a few times. Thorsson stirred from his seat, looking ehind him to see Sophitia on the floor. He paused, taking in the almost luminous toga she wore. It hung on her differently, and actually seemed to reflect some of the lamp light to make her seem to glow. Fitting for a seer really. He raised a hand, and beckoned to her. When she was close, he asked her one simple question.
"What do you See?" He asked. His emphasis on the last word showed that he was asking for something more than a simple assesment of the people around him.
 
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As Sophitia saw her cue, she stood to her feet and walked beside Thorsson. Her heart nearly stopped on the question as for a few seconds, there was nothing. Panic began to overtake her and for a bit, she truly did fear the only way to do this was before a temple or priest. However, as her eyes closed to focus, something began to steadily come to her view.

Sure enough, it was as Hera hinted; no names were given --- lest they were spoken aloud. Only a couple were; some individual named Loki and what must have been the massive dog as he addressed it first as his son .... and then ... Fenrir? She let the names echo in her mind a few times, making certain that she would be able to pronounce them well enough. The scenario didn't make sense to her ... but clearly it was significant enough for her to be viewing this.

The most important part, however, came as one of the faces she had seen at the table was seen. He began to speak, revealing he would indeed aid out with assisting in Fenrir's freedom ... for a price. He wanted the gift of persuasion in hopes to take over Thorsson's place. Alas, the concept wasn't too astounding. Many other Greeks and Romans tried to resort to such tactics. None worked, even without a Seer. But this made it all the more easier to prevent, in her eyes.

With the last thing Sophitia noticed being an odd symbol on the mortal's hand, the image around her begin to fade ...

Sophitia swallowed as her eyes finally opened. She didn't need to gaze around very long to find the same face. Giving a slight nod to a man northeast of where Thorsson was sitting, she began to speak up.

"He is trying to aid out a man named Loki to help free his child, Fenrir. In exchange for doing so, he seeks to overthrow you. Not by power, however, but the gift of persuasion and trickery. On his left palm was ... an odd mark, one that I'm guessing is somehow connected with this Loki figure."

She knew this would be quite the rude wake up call, especially at such a gathering .. but alas, he had asked. She wouldn't ignore or lie to him. Unfortunately for the male, Sophitia wanted to keep Thorsson's favor as best as she could. And if it meant revealing such things as this ... well ... not her fault. She hadn't asked for this blessing, this curse.
 
Thorsson nodded, and drained his cup of the drink within. Fortunately, there was a jug that looked about the right size for a single person to use comfortably sitting right behind his chair. he turned his full attention to the man she'd singled out. Thorsson stood, and waved a hand to him.
"Andvett! Stand and be recognized!" He called. The man started, but slowly rose from his seat, facing his jarl.
"What can I do for you lord Thorsson?" He asked, looking about hesitantly.
"You have only joined with this company recently, haven't you? Shortly before our voyage that landed us here?"
"Indeed lord! Your memory does you fine credit!"
"I would know my men better than a simple name! Come Andvett! Seat yourself at the high table, speak with me closely, and know my favour for the night!" he called. Men pounded the tables adn roared in approval. He caught the hesitance in his stance, and that made Thorsson actually wonder if the Seer might be on to something. But she'd given him a few tells to look for, and that was what he needed.

He leaned back to speak to her, reaching for what he hoped was a newly filled cup, he'd not had the time to pay proper attention to her actions.
"I am about to potentially accuse one of my men of treason. If you are to be found false in your vision, know that this will go tragically for you this night." He warned her simply.
 
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Sophitia's eyes quickly went from the man -- called out to as Andvett -- to the jug. She remained standing, her gaze remaining upon Thorsson's cup. She recalled Gerda's hint and advice that she shouldn't take too long and wasn't about to make any vital mistakes. This would have been one, especially since the head of this specific Norse clan had been so insistent for this of all things to be her duty aside from a Seer. And then ... another thought, alas, came to her as she began to refill his cup.

Would he keep the fact she was a Seer away from the others even? Or would they all know that if any others dared such an act, they could try to get revenge upon her? She had no idea how often she would be around or protected by Thorsson nor how cunning any of these men could truly be. Especially if push dared to come to shove for them. It made her horrified .. but now would likely be a good test time she assumed. Though Sophitia recalled Hera's blessing she was supposed to have, somehow being immune from harm that would come from a weapon, would it only be a one time thing? Permanent? What if someone noticed and worked on some sort of reversal?

So many what ifs raced through her poor head, her pulse was racing once again. The only thing which made her forget of any of it was the stern warning that soon came from Thorsson. Her head slowly nodded as she began to set the jug down but stopped, keeping it held instead to make the job of a cup refiller easier. "I .. I understand." She whispered softly, a swallow following.

Her gaze remained down and away from the others, especially Andvett. She didn't want anyone, him especially, putting two and two together on how this had all happened. From the brief vision, it seemed as if Loki was usually good with trickery .. similar to Mercury in that aspect. Thus, this plot shouldn't have been so easily seen. Then again, she doubted any of them would have expected a Seer to be among them.

Fortunately for her, all the visions she'd seen thus far - no matter how graphic they were - had always come true thus far. She wasn't afraid of it being wrong ... but more of the other Norse people and what they would do if they understood exactly what, or whom rather, was before them all.
 
Andvett took a seat at the high table, and the whole of the hall, now filled with more than a hundred people roared for food to be brought forth. Serving crews emerged from the kitchen, carrying the great spitted beasts, which only made the men roar all the louder in appreciation. Meat was cut carefully from each creature, and placed before Thorsson, and then along the high table, ansuring that those seated there would only have the finest of cuts. Thorsson leaned to the side, and spoke to Andvett.
"You serve me well so far Andvett, bringing a much needed cunning to the band." He said quietly.
"My thanks my lord! I do my best to serve." He repleid, his mouth half full of boar. Thorson stared at him for a moment before speaking again.
"Andvett, what is that mark upon you left hand?" He asked. Andvett froze instantly. He turned to face Thorsson with a wide eyed look.
"My lord?" He said quietly after swallowing. Thorsson didn't smile.
"I see a mark. A brand or tatto. Of a flame. A mark that no one amongst our people bear for what it denotes. Show me your hand Andvett, or annouce that you no longer swear your fealty to me." Thorsson said coldly. He'd backed Andvett into a corner, and the other man knew it. He did exactly what Thorsson thought he might do. He panicked.

Andvett rose quickly, drawing out his heavy seax knife, adn driving it at Thorsson. The other man swept an arm around, pushing the arm holding the weapon out of the way, and driving a hard, flat fist into Andvett's throat. Andvett grabbed his neck, and dropped to his knees, labouring to draw breath through a throat no longer capable of conveying it. Thorsson lifted the knife from the ground, adn looked to the room, which had fallen dead silent. He spoke calmly and cleanly.
"All witnessed what transpired here. Andvett sought to kill me in my own hall, and not across the circle, as proper warriors, but as a sly killer, a coward. And now, here he kneels, dying for his crime. What shall be done with him? I put his fate to the warriors of this felag!"
"Let him suffer. Let him die." The man on Thorsson's imediate left called. Thorsson had known that he could count on Lief. He always could, in any endeavour. Thorsson kicked Andvett in the face, sending him sprawling on the floor. He was behind several other cupbearers, and he began to feebly paw at the feet of the closest , who simply kicked him in the face disdainfully. It was clear that he was running out of time and air. No one around him seemed to care.
 
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Never once did Sophitia dare to look at Andvett, still very horrified he would understand what exactly had just happened. But then .. another concern crossed her mind. These new gods that she was slowly seeing and learning of ... how would they react to this?! Was a Seer even something typical that the Norse believed in? She doubted it. For Greeks and Romans, however, this was common in belief. Having a mortal with an ability, though, was nothing less of a pure miracle. She swallowed again, waiting for all of the others to be served before grabbing some of the food and drink for herself. Even if only a little, she definitely needed some.

As the exchange of words between Thorsson and Andvett began, she mentally prepared herself. She'd damn well nearly screamed at the sight of the knife. But before that could leave, Thorsson's palm connected with his throat, all but disabling it permanently. Sophitia inwardly shuddered. Few mortal men --- well, that wasn't true when she thought on it. There were quite a few demi-gods or 'favorites' of gods, if not a combination of both. So she shouldn't, she supposed, be that astounded to see such strength from a mortal.

First wiping her hands with a napkin, not wanting to use her new toga given to her, she then ran a hand through her hair. The first test had been passed ... and with barely any time or strength left, she wouldn't worry of Andvett anymore. But the others? As much as needed and for the moment, that would remain until she knew for certain she was safe and away ... which would likely be after the feast. She doubted many people had the nerve, or consent, to try to come into Thorsson's chambers ... assuming that had been where she slept last night. And if things were to repeat, she would go there again.

"I'm sorry it came out as something negative for you. But I hope, nonetheless, I have proven myself as competent enough for you." She finally murmured softly, unsure of how strong Norse people had bonds. Some Greeks were very close, others not so much. It honestly depended ... and often did in most cultures. It was her own mini-warning of sorts; that it would not, unfortunately, be the last time something similar such as that would be seen. Hera was very fickle on whether she showed her good or bad news, always had been.

All in all, though, Sophitia was feeling mostly well. She'd definitely stayed on his good side and had thus far been managing her duties well enough. Speaking of ... her eyes glanced back to check on his cup. Not yet ... but she noted it all the same, figuring after perhaps a few more sips to refill it.
 
"He was a traitor, devoted to Loki the Lie-smith, and a traitor knows no rest on this side of death, or the other. He'll be a faceless one of Hel's legions in no time at all." Thorsson said quietly, draining his cup quickly, and settting it down. That particular revelation would be made known to the peple on the morrow, right now it was meant to be a feast, and the men were getting more and riled as drink was served and abundance. Lief leaned over from his seat to speak to Thorsson.
"A fortunate guess old firend." He said quietly.
"Maybe so Lief. Maybe so. We'l see later, won't we?" Thorsson replied.
"Indeed." Thorsson began to eat quickly, shovelling great amounts of food into his mouth. Gerda appeared beside Sophiti, pressing a roll of bread into her hands with a nod. The roll was hollow, stuffed with meat, and what looked like cheese. It seemed someone in this place was still looking out for her. Thorsson tok a moment to lean back.
"It's a start Seer. It's a start."
 
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She didn't need to contemplate on Thorsson's logic long to understand it. Harsh as the words were, it was rather similar with Greeks and Romans. Traitors weren't exactly smiled upon and equally embraced quickly into Hades's domain. They were all meant to suffer some form of eternal damnation. Depending on the exact crime or form of treason determined how bad exactly it was; though Sophitia couldn't imagine any methods were more merciful than another. After all, it was the Underworld. Few mortals had been able to go there for naught but mere 'visits'.

By the time she began pouring Thorsson another cup - something she expected, given the abrupt but still bad news - Lief had made his way over. Her heart stopped for a bit but his words hinted he hadn't understood what'd just happened. Poor Sophitia .... would begin to trust others more when she could better see whom was or wasn't a worry. This Lief ... with how close he seemed to be to Thorsson would hopefully be an individual that she could fully trust with time. For now, though, she still wasn't ready to allow anyone that privilege just yet.

As she finished setting the jug down, Gerda was the next to appear. Her own small smile crossed her face as she returned the gesture with her own head bowing and nodding to her. Taking the time to mouth the words 'Thank you' first, an inward sigh echoing in her head.

Thorsson was right; this was indeed a beginning. But she was still mourning slightly. Had his men needed to go through such measures? Could her mother have not been spared? In truth, she wouldn't have fought quite as much if they'd asked. After all, she hadn't been believed or paid heed to by much of anyone else. Why remain in Athens? She only had because no other opportunities had arisen before now.

" ... True enough. Everything and everyone needs to start somewhere." With her own words repeating in her head, she began to slowly eat the roll, sighing softly as her empty stomach began to steadily get satisfied with nutrition.
 
The feast raged on. There was no other way to describe it. It was pure, raging joy in every man present. Soometime during the night, someone came and dragged Andvett's corpse out of the hall, and deposited him somewhere out of the way. Thorsson presided over the whole affair, sharing out the spils of the raid, offering praise in places for a job well done, and awarding Herliefr a new sword. It was a beautiful piece of workmanship, and the metal rippled in a way that hadn't been seen in Greece. A superior weapon for a superior task completed. After accepting his praise, herliefr still spared a moment to leer at Sophitia, and gaev her a suggestive wink. He sauntered back to his seat, adn rejoined his small group. Songs were sung in the rough Nordic tongue. Wine, Ale and mead were served in such a quantity that no one left sober unless they wished it. Gerda stopped by a few other times to offer Sophitia another stuffed roll to keep her fed. Finally Thorsson heaved himself to his feat, raising a hand in farewell. Lief smiled, adn helped his old friend towards the back of the hall, where a door led to Thorsson's private chambers. Gerda made sure Sophitia knew to follow.

Lief dumped Thorsson onto the bed without ceremony.
"You're a bastard Lief." Thorsson grumbled.
"And you're a drunk fool." Lief retorted with a grin.
"Traitor..." Thorsson grumbled. Lief just shook his head, and left the room. Thorsson managed to haul himself to a sitting position. Out of sight of the men at large, he was allowing himself to actually react to how much he'd drank, and he felt truly terrible. "Tyr's severed hand, why did I drink that swill?" He muttered, seeming more to himself than anyone else.
 
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During the entire ceremony, Sophitia ensured to keep her eyes mainly upon Thorsson's cup. Perhaps the only other place it would go would be upon Herliefr to ensure he wouldn't be able to do more than merely wink. She'd never been one for drinking much if at all herself, personally. Now, though, she had even more incentive to do so. She would need to be sober, not just for herself but Thorsson also. She was incredibly glad for everything, the food and Lief helping get Thorsson into his chambers. There would have been absolutely no way her lithe body could have handled his.

As they arrived into his chambers, Sophitia offered him a small smile. "Well ... to be fair ... it was a feast. I'd assume you were but enjoying yourself?" She offered, remaining standing in front of him as she took a quick glance around. Even while here, she wanted to double check and make damn well sure she would be safe. It wasn't a risk she was willing to take. Tonight had proven one thing; even among all the Norse men, there would be a few who would be so selfish, they would go to such lengths to get whatever it was they desired.

And with Herliefr's case ... she definitely did not want to take that risk if he dared to go down that path. A new idea came to her though as a new question passed her lips, allowing her to temporarily forget about that slight but still real fear. "Do you want anything else, Thorsson?" She offered. The man sounded reasonable enough ... Sophitia didn't fear asking that question to him nearly as much as she should have.
 
Thorsson looked at Sophitia. Seers. They were always so damned sensible and logical. Of course it had been a feast. And of course h'd been enjoying himself. But he was drunk, and feeling lousy. He held the look a few moments, before remembering that she was still young. A lot of the time she'd simply not know any different, and he couldn't fault her for that. He groaned, adn stood, popping the clasp on his heavy cloak, dropping it to the floor. Grumbling a moment, he pulled the heavy shirt he wore, a comfortable garment from home.
"What I want... I want a great many things. I'd like a chalice made of solid platinum, covered the most precious stones of the world. I'd like a ship, a good one, that could carry me and my company away from this sweat-box of a country." He kicked his boots off, leaving them where they lay. Not thinking in the least about the comfort or modesty of anyone else in the room, he pulled his belt off, letting his trousers fall. "I'd like a woman in my bed to keep me company for the night. But we all want for things we cannot have." He said this last with a faint tinge of wistfulness as he sat on the bed again, dressed in nothing but a hip wrap.
 
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Once the hint of clothes coming off was seen to Sophitia, she turned her back. As article after article of clothing left Thorsson's body, she gathered them and set them down upon a chair, folding each item neatly. For the time being, this would be a fair enough spot given she wasn't sure where exactly to put the dirty clothes. Even as she finished, Sophitia made sure to keep her gaze above his waist, not wanting to seem as if staring in ... locations she probably shouldn't be doing so. Even when he said his last want ... that would be pushing it, in her eyes. She wasn't worthy, having barely known any of these people for so long.

Then again, there were many whom didn't give a damn on such things. Still, she shook her head no at herself. He'd sounded like the better wording may be more along the lines of an actual lover, not just a woman. And that .. she couldn't yet try to give herself credit for being. Hell, if both of their guesses were correct, she may never be able to be anyone's lover if her abilities did rely on her staying pure. It disheartened her in a way. She had wanted kids, eventually, when she was ready and had found a proper man. But now ... that may not even be possible.

A nod of understanding and agreement left as his last sentence rang in her ears. "Oh, I know that one ... very well. My parents taught me that at a young age ... " Her thoughts couldn't help but go to her Father. Had he lost the will to live even? Or was he struggling, barely hanging on somehow? She hoped the latter ... selfish as it was. Especially with the fair assumption that she'd likely never go back home ... another thing that saddened her. Enough to make the urge to cry overwhelm her. And given she'd been fighting it since being dragged away from Athens .. it was pretty damn strong.
 
Thorsson leaned back in his bed, stretching out. The mead and Grecian wine was hammering away in his head, to the point that he couldn't believe it. He took a deep breath, and propper himself up on his elbows. He nodded towards a large piece of plush furniture. It looked as though it had been looted from a Roamn villa somewhere, a divan style couch.
"You sleep there for now Seer. There will be more tasks for you to complete come the morning." He said to her, the faintest hint of a slur in his voice. Gods, had he really gotten that drunk? Apparently he had! His mind ran the contemplation of what else he could get up to, and he decided that it wouldn't be poor for him to make the knowledge plain. "Unless you prefer to join me here." His voice was not forceful, making it clear that anything she did from here was going to be her own choice. He didn't hold out much hope of it, and it would be something of a surprise to him. But one never found out anything worth knowing without trying.
 
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A slight twinge of guilt tried to surge through Sophitia, mainly because he'd admitted one of these days he wanted a woman. But between feeling unworthy and - for now still - slightly uncomfortable on trying to take that role, she couldn't fairly say she would be able to do it and feel well enough doing so. Her head shook no as she managed to keep her voice calm. "I'm fine, thanks." She supposed she could appreciate the fact his own voice had been as collected as hers, without force. But still, it was just too ... she couldn't place a fair adjective on the word. Ironic? Maybe, to lie with a man from the same clan and nationality who looted her hometown and caused the death of her mother.

Even if he hadn't directly ordered that ... it was still from men under his command. And knowing one of the few reasons she was still alive and pure didn't exactly make Sophitia feel much better in being here at all. Her own low sigh left as she lied upon the couch on her back, her hands resting on her stomach. Why me? Why not someone else? No answer this time though then again, Sophitia wasn't astounded. It seemed to be when she least wanted or tried for an answer that the gods ever replied to her.

Slowly, she closed her hazel eyes, trying to get some sleep. Her body relaxed but ... Sophitia definitely felt wide awake. She'd probably fallen asleep due to exhaustion more than anything. Her visions always gave her slight mental strains but unless it was a long one, it never wore her out. And thus ... she found herself in a hell of a dilemma. She'd need sleep, whether she liked the surroundings or not. But it seemed like that was the last thing her body desired, making her inwardly curse. Oh come on now ... She inwardly whined, trying to send up prayers to Hypnos.

If nothing else, she at least looked asleep despite not actually being it.
 
Thorsson let himself go, finally surrendering to sleep, and dropping back on the bed. It was still an odd feeling not to have to bundle himself up in the layers of furs that had been needed back home. Anything less would have been fatal there, but here, it was all too easy. His drink addled mind offered up a final curse to this land. As he slept, not for the first time, he dreamed...

His axe split a shield apart, letting him slam his own shield into the helmed face of the Greek that was opposing him. He'd breached the shieldwall, what these Greeks called a phalanx, and now his men were in the breach, forcing it out further, and taking the enemy formation apart. Slivers of bronze were flying through the air, shields and armour being sundered under the impact of the iron and the rarer steel weapons among the Norse. It wasn't the first time he'd dreamt this moment. The scarlet cloaks of his foes marked them as the fabled Spartans, and the logical part of him knew that facing this foe was inevitable with ihs band working for any who would pay them. He found himself before a Spartan with a differing crest on his helm, going crosswise rather than front to back, marking him as an officer. The man thrust a spear at THorsson, but the bigger Norseman took the spearpoint on his shield, adn hacked down, splitting off the spear. The Spartan dropped the sundered weapon, and drew out his own sword, but the blade was damnedly short, good for the press of cloe in fighting. Thorsson took advantage of his reach, hammering away with his axe into the shield, sending the Spartan reeling before finding himself exposed to Thorsson's axe. The death of the Spartan seemed to rob his section of their steely resolve, beginning to rout. His call of victory rang from the hills, and he noticed something different this time. On a hill, where his skalds stood, recording the battle. lay Sophitia, but strager than that, was that there were people behind her. Tall people, crowned in majesty adn glory, adn he knew he must be looking at Gods. Several Goddesses, and a single God, whose face glowed like the sun. Sophitia's eyes glowed with that same power, radiating trapped power and divinity. The girl might be mortal as any, but her eyes and Sight were divine.

With the divine being behind her, and now that she answered to him did that mean those powers were now also behind him? Or did that mean she might someday ultimately betray him for those powers? He was a warrior, not an interpreter of dreams. What he knew was that he would need to watch her. Assuming this dream meant anything at all, and wasn't just a reflection of his knowing that someday he would be facing the Spartans, these best warriors that the Greeks could put in the field.

His eyes snapped open, and he looked around the room. Damn it all, it wasn't yet morning. The mead no longer addled him, and he could think very clearly. He looked up, and caught sight of Sophitia laying on the divan, but her breathing didn't suggest she was sleeping. What to do with her? A Seer was too valuble to discard, but a foreign Seer who followed none of the practices of his people, cast no runes or wands, and owed no true allegiances...it was hard to find a point of real trust.
 
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