His Daughter the Slave [Edward Thatch Karo]

He had been out on the king's business. An important trade opportunity that would bring him wealth, the king a new tie to their neighbors the west and much needed flax for the people. A win, win all around, except their neighbors to the south, the Rones were apparently opposed to the new alliance. So much so they sent a legion, a full legion onto his lands to rape, murder and pillage. As if that were not bad enough, they took is baby girl. Well, at least she was a girl to him. She would always be his little girl, despite having passed the age of womanhood. But now they had her and made her a slave. His girl! A damned slave!

So now he sat outside the Enari Tenple in Rone trying to buy his little girl back. Oh, he had wanted to and had planned to come and take her back and not leave a man, woman or child of them alive, but as he was gathering his forces he received word from the King. He was to protect the peace. He could defend himself, defend her life or the lives of any of his men, but he was to maintain the peace. He seethed. He very nearly disobeyed and his King must have known it because with he order to keep the peace was a deed for the adjoining lands.

So he sat there and listened to them drone on about the sacred duties of a slave owner and the gods witness and … “Wait, what was that again?”, he asked. The priest looked him and replied, after you pay for her, you will cast lots which will dictate how long she must be kept till she may be freed.” A look of murderous rage came across Cajetan's face and he gripped his sword and was on the edge of doing violence. The priest just eyed him casually and commented, “A slave that is the cause of the defilement or a scandal to the temple is considered unclean and cast to the wild animals in the arena.” Watching in satisfaction as the father released his grip on his sword hilt he continued, “Also do not think you will simply take her across the boarder and free her. Enari watches. Break the Contract and it will be a holy war.”

Disgusted he paid the monstrous price and went to the private room to “review his merchandise” before signing the final agreement and casting their lots. He waited for these devils in human flesh to bring his daughter, his new slave to him.

They had come in the night, far more of them than they could possibly defend against. Eva dreamt every night of the sounds of countless horses barreling down on them, of the shouts and screams, and smell of smoke and bright glow of fire in the air. The attack came so suddenly, and they had nowhere near the means to defend themselves.

And she had been taken from the home she loved so dearly.

She had stopped counting days, stopped counting how many times she had changed hands in the time since her capture, before arriving at the slave market they called a temple. It was the gods' will, after all. The gods willed that mercy be shown on captives of war, that they be shown the graciousness of being allowed to live as a slave, rather than dying at the hands of a soldier.

The skin on her chest still burned, the brand she had been marked with still a bright, glossy scar where her collarbones met. A mark she would be forbidden from covering as long as her servitude was sentenced. The temple guards showed no sympathy towards her plight as they opened the door to the small, empty room she had been held in. Her clothing was fitting of a slave, rags that barely covered what was needed for her to be considered modest, and she padded barefoot along the stone corridors. The men fit a heavy iron collar around her throat, and shackled her wrists in front of her. She had been sold already, almost before she could even comprehend what had happened.

The two men brought her into the room, and for a brief moment, her heart soared as she laid eyes on her father. She had feared the worst; their neighbors had never been bold enough to launch an invasion before, for them to attack so suddenly, they must have known something, that he wouldn't return to seek revenge for any reasonable time. She stepped forward, wanting nothing more than to rush to him, but a sharp tug on her chains from the guards brought her down to her knees, a hand on the back of her neck forced her head down in a bow to him. She was, after all, a slave now, and was expected to act as such.

"I trust she'll be to your liking?" One of them said to him as they offered Eva's chains to him.

He stared at the chain used as a leash being offered to him. His face darkened and a slight tremble of rage took his hand as he struggled to keep it at his side rather than flying to his swords hilt. “Remove the chains.” he growled at the guards. The one that seemed to be the more senior spoke up. “Sir..” “Lordship” Cajetan snapped at the guard. “I am a High Lord the appropriate appellation is “your Lordship”. She had NEVER heard him make an issue of his title or how he was to be addressed before, but more surprisingly was to see him quiver in rage like that and not see dead bodies at his feet.

The guard shift his body as if taking a fighter's stance. She knew that was exactly the wrong thing to do. She'd seen his rages before. A man, perhaps two, were about to die. Instead, he spoke to the man again, but his voice flowed from his lips like liquid death flowing down a dried river bed. “Remover her chains. Now.” The guard was not sure what to make of this arrogant out-lander “Lord” so he tried again. “Your Lordship, we will be happy to remove her chains for you, but you must understand as a slave she can never be out of your direct presence unchained.” The look of shock on his face cooled some of his rage. Only just some. “But I have new clothes I want her to put on. And she my dau..” The guard interrupted him. “Your Lordship, we honestly don't care what you do with your slave once we leave her, as long as you obey the law. She is not to be outside your presence, unchained. Ever.” He began to remove her chains.

Cagetan stood there with a glare upon his face. Once they were finish and out the door he looked down to his daughter and said in a voice fraught with exasperation, “Oh just get up. I'm your father not your Mast...” He cleared his throat. He pulled out a package from under his arm. Here are some new clothes. Its your choice to change now or not, but we do need to talk.” Looking her skeptically as he handed her the package, “I am sorry I cannot afford you privacy if you do want to change. But you heard the man.” He cleared his throat and again and waited for her to say or do something, anything.

Though she remained kneeling on the ground after the two guards had left, her shoulders sunk and she finally let her held breath loose. She had learned a few hard lessons about her newfound status, and how those suddenly stationed above her would respond to a lowly slave so much as looking like they were about to disobey. Still, though, she feared that she was being watched, and it was only after hearing her father's familiar voice from near her that she dared look back up.

Almost at once, she scrambled up to her feet. As she took the package from him, she couldn't restrain herself from throwing her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself against his chest as she embraced him. It was almost like seeing a ghost, something so familiar in what she thought was a hopeless situation. She feared if she let him go, he would disappear.

"I understand, Father," she finally said as she stepped back from him, clutching the package of more familiar clothing in her hands. "It's what the gods command, after all," she spat, acid in her voice as she repeated what had been explained to her relentlessly since her capture. It was the holy word, the law of the lands for what was to be done to prisoners of wars and raids.

She unfolded the clothing, her fingers brushing along the cloth as she looked it over. Anything would be better than the rags they had forced her to wear during her imprisonment. For how she lingered over the material, it might have been the finest silk from the farthest lands, rather than the more practical cloth it was woven from.

"Please...speak," she said softly as she turned her back to him to change. Though she might not have privacy, she wanted nothing more than to be out of those damned rags. She bared her torso to him first, a few bright red welts marring her shoulders, though she seemed to have been spared the amount of punishment doled out to the more disobedient captives. She seemed to have been left mostly untouched, the soft curve of her waist free of any obvious bruises or scratches. "I feel like you have answers to questions I would never, ever even begin to ask..."

He readily hugged back but threw his hands away like they were on fire when she winced. “Not our gods, honey, not our gods. And if they do, I never want any truck with the bods again.” He responded to her regurgitated rhetoric. The fire that had left his voice when they had told him he'd have to stay with her while she changed suddenly returned as he spoke of the perverted beliefs of these people. The rage and disgust at them was dripping from his voice like venom from the fangs of snake. He was visibly trying to control his rage, his outrage at this situation.

Her simple please at the clothing he had brought her both thrilled and further enraged him. He was thrill he could so readily bring his little girl some small measure of happiness. The thought that her short term as a slave had been so cruel as to make such a basic thing such a wondrous pleasure had him griping his sword hilt again. When she bared her torso he gasped at the sight of the whelps lashings had left upon her. He had his blade half bared before he realized it. He slammed it back home in it's sheath. His breath caught when he looked beneath the wounds and saw her bared torso. He had not seen her bare since she was a little girl. He knew she was a woman but she had always been a little girl in his mind. Now he was faced with the woman and was dumbstruck. He had almost opened his mouth to answer her when the rest of her clothes came off and he caught himself staring. It had been many years since her mother had died. It was not that he had not tried a woman here or there but had generally found himself uninterested for anyone save her. He felt his blood heating and face flushing seeing his little girl in such and intimate way.

With a red face he spun on his heel, putting his back to her. He started at the beginning of this nightmare and told her and explained from there. “Firstly honey, you should know that I wanted to come for you immediately. I had a force ready to come after you.” He looked over his shoulder and immediately turn his face away again. “I received and order from the King. It told me to keep the peace. I was allowed to defend myself. I was allowed to defend your life or the life of any of our people. But I was not allowed to invade, engage in battle or do anything that would challenge the peace.” Fire entered his voice again. “I very nearly disobeyed my King and oldest friend.” He involuntarily looked back again and realized it was safer so he turned back to her.

Facing her again, he continued. “You know how convincing he can be. So there was the negotiations to allow me to cross the boarder. Then I had to petition the Rule to be allowed to conduct business and then the Temple Elders to prove I was “worthy” of owning a slave.” He grunted. “I think the casual mention of returning to my 30 000 man army and considering my options is what won them over.” Looking into her eyes again. “Then they put me off by telling me they would have to research their records to find where you were and finally the process of an out-lander to meet with the Head of this “Temple””, that word was spit out with pure hatred, “And finally the identification and actual purchase.” He looked down at the floor and said, “Eva, please forgive me for not getting her, getting to you sooner.”

After all was said and done an all the emotion reactions were finished with he got down to the hard part. “Eva, after I signed the contract they told me things. After we leave here I will have to cast lots and determine how long you will have to remain a slave. They said that I should not even consider just taking you home and freeing you their “god” watches they said. I know that that means, spies.” This time he did spit. They threatened a “holy war” if I tried that.” He took her in is arms. “Honey, I think, at least in public you will have to seem in every way my slave. Private if for us, but public will have to be for the common good, the good of the peace.” Trying to save her back he had wrapped his arms around her waist, but because of it could not look her in the eye.

Eva knew her father well enough to know when his blood boiled. He was not an angry man, she had never known him to be cruel or unfair. She heard the venom in his words as he all but cursed the gods these people worshiped, the gods that commanded them to ransack towns and take women and children from their homes to serve as slaves. However, even before he explained the whole situation to her, she knew that they were deep in these lands. They clung to their gods and their rules, and the fact that she and her father were outsiders meant nothing to them. They would have no qualms about taking her from her father again if they broke any one of their many rules.

She had finished dressing herself by the time he turned back to her a final time. Her fingers worked some of the tangles out of her hair as he finished his explanation. She shook her head as he sought her forgiveness.

"Father, I know you'd never let me suffer a minute if you could prevent it," she said gently to him.

Once again, she found herself pulled into his arms. Despite their dire situation, how far they might be from home and from the relative safety there, at the very least she was with him. He'd protect her with everything he had, this much she knew. She felt his strong arms around her, rough hands still comforting against her skin in the familiar embrace.

For a moment, she faltered, even the idea of acting as a slave turned her stomach, but she knew he was right. Whatever they wanted from them, at the very least, they would get the satisfaction of forcing them to follow their laws, at least while they were in these foreign lands.

She took a step back, and breathed out a deep sigh. Her eyes closed, her hands holding her father's tightly as the reality of their situation set in.

"I...I understand. I think," she said quietly. Though still young, she had always had a level head. They'd always said she took after her mother like that, able to see through whatever dire situation they were faced with. "If it means I can stay with you, I'll do whatever I have to, whatever we have to." she paused for a moment, then glanced up, meeting her father's eye to confirm her next fear.

"If...I'm to stay a slave in their eyes, for however many years they decide...will we be able to return home? Or will they make us stay here? I can imagine they're waiting for us to make a wrong step somewhere, to give them an excuse to declare another war..."

He felt this shiver run through her at the thought of even “playing” slave to anybody, least of all to her own father. He took on arm from her waist and ran his fingers through hair, as well as he could in its current state, cupping her head and turning her face to him he kissed her brow and said, “Baby doll, it's alright, I'm here and I have you. I promise, all will be well and all will be well and all manner of things will be well.” He kissed her nose, then her chin and gave her a hen peck on the lips, just like when she was a little girl.

He listened to her talk about doing what was needful to stay with him and get out of here with a sad cast to his eyes, but a deep pride when she said spoke of not making any wrong steps and not wanting to cause a war. He was deeply proud of her for thinking of her duty above her own wants and desires. But she had always been that way. Ever since she was tiny she had always had such strong character. He sighed and answered her question. “We may have to stay and finish up the paperwork and whatever rituals these savages have, but then I'm taking you home.” Clearing his throat he concluded, “I could stand here and hold you forever honey, but this is not getting you out of here. At least we can finish here and get you back to the tavern.” He sighed, “I had ordered a second room for you but do not think they will allow you to use it.” A teasing light came to his eye, “I guess you're just going to have to sleep with daddy just like when you were small. How'd that be?” He was clearly trying to boost her spirits and make the best of the situation. He kissed her brow again and broke the embrace.

Looking around the room he hiss and he kicked the chains on the floor. He took her hand and led her to the main Temple area. “She meets with your approval then, My Lord?” the high priest asked in a parsimonious way. Cajetan seethed, the man knew he had come for his daughter and would not leave alive without her. In a tight and controlled voice he said, “Yes, she is quite the treasure. Let's just get on with it. They walked to the altar to cast the lots. Cajetan took up the bones, scarcely giving the priest his chance to bless them and cast his baby girls future.

He stood there and watched his daughter for her reaction. “Well,” he thought to himself, “isn't that just special.” He finalized the rites of the transfer of property, keeping an eye on her. When the put the collar on her and offered him the leash he sword was out before he could think of what he was doing. He grudgingly put it up though and asked in a harsh voice, “What's this about? She'll be in my presence after all.” It was explained to him and thereby to her just by chance she happened to be there, that yes, as long as she was in his presence she did not have to be chained or leashed, generally, but as a new slave she would not be trusted till at least her brand fully healed over. The priest just talked on as if she were not there, as if she were a piece of furniture.

He father was beet red as he took the leash and turned on his heel and almost stormed off jerking her behind before he caught himself. “Come on honey, let's get to the tavern and get you cleaned up and fed.” And so he led her through the town to the nicest tavern. He had been right, they would not let a room to a slave, particularly a new slave no matter what he offered. Finally in disgust he ordered a bath set and a meal for the two of them. He thought about it and made one of the meals a double order of everything. He was sure she was famished. He led her up to their room and as soon as the door was closed he ripped the collar from her neck and threw it across the room. He took her in his arms again, whether to comfort her or himself he could not say.

Just as he was about to speak a knock came at the door and the servants brought in the large copper tub, buckets of hot water toweling, soaps, bath oil and body rub. They also brought in their meals. He senior servant took in his daughter's new and puffy scare and offered, “We can happily send up an experienced slave to help and show her how to give her master a proper bath, if his Lordship wishes. Shocked at the thought, and oddly not as horrified by the idea of his daughter bathing him as he knew he should have been he said, “No that's fine. We'll manage. Thank you.” he handed her a gold piece, more to get rid of her than anything else. He looked at his daughter, his slave and said, “Eat first or bath first its up to you honey.” Looking away from her eyes and blushing remembering his glimpses of her from earlier he continued. “As before I am sorry I cannot offer you they privacy I am certain you'd prefer.” Then he set himself to filling the tub and preparing a proper bath so it'd be ready regardless of what she chose first, food or bath.

Only her father would be able to make her smile in such dire circumstances.

"Papa..." she laughed as he kissed over her forehead. "You know I'm not a little girl anymore...it wouldn't be proper," she started, then paused for a moment. Of course it wouldn't; nothing about their situation was proper at all. She faltered for a moment as she stepped back from him before he lead her from the room. She clung tightly to her father's side, hardly daring to even loosen her grip on his arm.

Even as the priest sneered over them, she remained quiet and stalwart. This was not the time to cause a scene, not when they were surrounded by temple guards. While her father might be released for a small act of insubordination, she would undoubtedly face a much harsher punishment. Even in her short time in captivity, she had seen the beatings doled out by slavers, seen men and women with their tongues cut out, fingers removed, and worse. She couldn't bear to force her father watch that happen to her.

Eva tried not to show that her heart sank as the priest announced her sentence.

Thirteen years.

She would be bound to the laws of a strange god for thirteen years, unable to marry, unable to own lands. All for the crime of having her lands razed and her home ransacked.

Her mind had gone numb, only vaguely comprehending the words that were exchanged as the collar was again buckled around her throat. For the moment she was numb, pulled back to reality only at the unexpected tug on the lead from her father. It was time for them to be gone, to return to what was left of their home to hopefully find some sort of peace.

At the tavern, the landlord spoke around her the same way the priests had, never once addressing her directly, discussing her arrangements as if she were livestock rather than the daughter of a lord. Her birthright meant nothing to them, not for as long as she bore the scarred symbol on her chest, or as long as she had the humiliating collar locked around her throat.

She remained silent as her father pulled her into another comforting embrace. Their people had always been known for their resolve. If anyone could make it through such an ordeal, it would be them. That much she knew. And they were together now; it would be only a short time before they were as free as they could possibly be, all things considered.

Her attention turned to the door as it opened, to the young servant who entered the room. Again, she was never once addressed directly, Cajetan now fully responsible for her actions, at least in the eyes of their priests and laws. She tightened her jaw, let her fist clench for a moment, waiting until after the girl had left to release the breath she had been holding.

The option to eat had barely left her father's mouth before she eagerly helped herself to one of the plates. Of course she had been fed while in captivity; a starved slave was no use to anyone, but it had been bland, and only enough to keep her functioning, never a full meal. Manners were forgotten as she cleared the plates of her favorites first, well-seasoned meat and heavy bread filled her empty stomach. She gulped down the weak ale that had been brought up with their meal, and by the time her father had readied the bath, she had cleared a good portion of her plate.

A tiny flush of embarrassment rose to her cheeks as she realized she had been scarfing her food, but really, it was too welcome of a meal for her to take slowly.

"A bath would be wonderful after this," she said. "You should eat, too. I'm sure you could use a good meal after everything that's happened."

He smiled seeing his girl fall on the food and pleased he could give her this much at least. He was a little concerned about how much and how fast she was eating. It wouldn't do her any good to eat, just to get sick from doing too much too fast. When she looked at him with embarrassment for her table manners she saw the love and devotion in his eyes and a sadness there too. A smile came to his lips, but it was a sad smile all the same.

“I will eat soon honey, let's get to you bath.” He knelt by the tub for all the world as if he were the slave and she the master or perhaps a flash of a father giving his little girl a bath. “We have to get used to being around each other since you can't be out of my presence unless chained and I have no intention of ever chaining you.” He motioned to the bath with his hand and gave her one of those looks that said he was not going budge or be disobeyed. A look she knew too well from childhood. So there he waited. A loving father to bath his baby girl, a doting master, pampering his new slave.

She started to protest, but she knew that look, and recognized that tone. It was rare for him to take such a stern demeanor with her. She could hardly remember the last time he spoke to her so sharply. Perhaps it was the third time she had ripped a hole in a new dress while climbing trees, none of which was suitable behavior for a lord's daughter after all.

With a sigh, she relented, crinkling her nose at him as she stood. "And are you going to give me your belt if I don't?" she asked with a tiny laugh.

Again, she turned her back to her father to change, though it really was little use as she would have to turn back to him to get back to the small tub. She folded her clothes neatly for later, then slowly turned back to face her father. Again, the rose blush spread over her cheeks, and it took a few flickering glances up before she could look him in the eye as she stood exposed in front of him. There was no questioning that she had, somewhere over the last few years, developed into a stunning young woman. Full, pert breasts, a smooth curve to her waist, and a tiny bit of extra weight carried in her hips and thighs now.

She paused for a moment, and averted her eyes from him as she busied herself with checking the temperature of the water.

He blushed at the mention of the belt. He'd only ever had to spank her couple times and was in such a black mood after his dearest friends and advisers avoided him for days. He again noticed her as a woman as she undressed, but shoved those thoughts down. When she turned he was astounded and in awe. He was so overwhelmed he couldn't even think to banish the thoughts of his enjoyment of the sight of his daughter. He did however manage to keep his face a cautious mask for her. He would not let her see the reactions she was provoking in his.

Eventually, when he found his voice and could trust it he said softly, “Eva, don't you understand? I want to do this for you. Out there, among them we may have to be masters slave. But here, I am still you loving father and I want you to know and see how much I want to take care of you and dote on you. Can you understand that honey?” He dropped his head to his chest, “I just want you to know and see, beyond doubt that I love you and you will never be a slave in my eyes.” His voice was a broken whisper.

When she finally slipped into the tub he began by soaking the sponge and pouring water all over her body and hair, wetting her down completely. He then took the soap and loaded the sponge with suds and started to wash her. He started with her shoulders and then her arms. He was cautious but sure with her breast. Firm and sure but never what could have been call inappropriate. He washed her belly and legs. He had her sit up and washed her back, very gingerly and yet thoroughly. He handed her the sponge and turned away to let her wash her womanhood. Then he rinsed the sponge out and began using it to wash all the soap off of her. Next he moved on to washing her hair. He had always love her hair, so like her mother's. He took his time and washed it thoroughly.

When he finished he sat there next to her and looked at with love and adoration in his eyes. The whole time he had not said a thing, save to answer her questions. When she finally wanted out of the bath he brought her toweling and toweled her dry himself. He told her to lay face down on the bed as he got out some ointment for her back. When he finally finished all he said in a whisper was, “I love you Eva”.

That bathing scene sounds familiar, lol.

Remember our discussion about RPGing 101, you should not insert a post into an established story unless invited. PM the participant you wish to address. I know it is all knew and strange to you. Don't worry the ... RP manners just come with time.

Caverlyl said:

That bathing scene sounds familiar, lol.

Click to expand...

(and now back to our regularly scheduled programming lol)

For a while, she almost forgot about everything that happened. As her initial apprehension left, she let her eyes fall closed, the water warm and comforting as it ran off of her shoulders. As the soap touched the still-healing welts on her chest and shoulders, she gave a tiny little twinge at the sudden sting. As she felt her father's hands so gently washing the dirt and grime from her tired body, she was reassured that all was as well as it could be. Her father was a fierce man, but he would never direct any of that ire towards her. Even as a child, his punishments had been few and far between, and she knew it took something very serious for him to even raise his voice at her. And when he did, she knew well enough to listen.

She left the small tub with a longing sigh. Though the room was by no means cold, the heat of the tub had been a welcome bit of relaxation.

Soon, she was dry, the pleasant scent of the soap clinging to her body and hair, the soft sheet welcome against her skin as her father bid her to lay on the bed. Again, she twitched at the slight, sudden sting, but it quickly subsided, the salve providing some relief to the raised welts on her shoulders. For her own sake, it was lucky she learned quickly. It had taken only a single angry guard quick to turn his whip on her for her to learn to bide her time.

She turned her head to her father as he finally spoke, the silence between them heavy and comforting, in a way. She knew he was there, and now that she was under his protection, she needn't answer to anyone else, that no one else would be allowed to lay a hand on her.

"I love you, too, papa," she replied, her voice small and quiet as she shifted closer to him, propped up on her elbows as she kissed his cheek affectionately.

"I was afraid, when they came to our home, I feared something had happened to you. No one had ever dared wrong us before, I thought for them to suddenly turn and attack, that something terrible had happened to you," she said.

"I hope they have to answer to their gods soon," she said, seething quietly. It was wrong to wish ill on others, that she knew, but in her short time in captivity, she had learned that these people, at least those responsible for her capture, held no mercy in their hearts. They weren't worth her pity. "I'd love to see this whole city burn..."

He laid down next to her and kissed her gently. “Honey, I am fine. Our people are rebuilding and most importantly I have you back.” He opened his arms to her to come into his embrace as he asked, “I know they beat you and did not feed you well, but did they do anything... else honey? Are you ok? Is there anything you need to talk about?” He knew better than to push her or press her. He would just lay with her for a time and listen. He purposefully wore his “Lord's mask” of a face, not revealing any of his internal thoughts or feelings as she decided to except his embrace or not tell him what she wanted or not. Listen to what she did tell him with a prudential and nonreactive expression.

When she was done speaking he kissed her again. “Honey, I wish I had not answered my King's summons. I wish I had not gone and been home to protect you, keep you from having have had to experience all of this, all you have had to experience. I wish you did not have to be a slave, let alone my slave. Know I would happily trade places with you if I could.” He stopped himself. He felt himself on the verge of going too far, saying too much. “If there is such a thing as justice and righteousness in this world these people and their foul gods will be wiped from the earth. And if there is no justice than to hell with all the gods.” The heat and vehemence in his blasphemy was a thing she had only heard once before, early that day. He had always been so devout and reverent of the gods, even those not his own. This was certainly a new aspect of him. But his heated moment left and he laid there with her, offering her what comfort she would take. The warmth of his body if she needed it to stave off the chill air.

After a long time he began to rise. You will take the bed, I will make a palate on the floor. I really had thought we would be allowed the privacy of our own rooms at least.” Looking at her a little guiltily and clearing his throat, “You see honey, over the years I've gotten into the habit of not wearing bed clothes and well”, he blushed a little, a very odd look on him, “I didn't think to pack any and so I didn't think to by any for you either. I'll have to sleep in my clothes and you will just have to sleep … in the bed.” His eyes were still averted from her and he was still beet red. “Okay honey?”

Again, Eva settled easily into her father's embrace. She closed her eyes, and let herself get lost in the familiar sensations, the smell of her father's clothes, his strong arms around her, the slight rough texture of his hands against her skin. It was only as he questioned her that she frowned, and faltered for a moment before answering him.

"I was...examined. Thoroughly. Once when I was captured, and again by the priests," she said. "That was the extent of what they did. If it weren't for their laws, though..." she fell silent for a moment. "None of them were shy about going into detail about what they would do if they bought me. But the law forbid them from doing anything until I was properly sentenced. So as not to ruin me for whatever man chose me." she said, more of that venom seeping into her words. She had never been a hateful person, but her captors had brought out every ounce of ire in her body. So much so that she trembled in her father's arms, not out of fear, but out of anger.

Silence fell between them, and she again settled into the comfort of her father's embrace. She was almost able to fall asleep then and there, but was stirred awake as he rose. She sat up with him, propped up on her elbows on the bed as she watched him.

"There's no reason I can't sleep in my clothes, as well," she said pointedly. "You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor, there's space on the bed for the both of us. Perhaps we should look for some place that will sell us a set of bedclothes, since it seems that this will be our sleeping arrangement until we've arrived home again."

He was relieved and happy to see the tension drain from his daughter as he bathed her. He was elated to see her so readily fall into his arms and still enjoy his embrace. He had so feared her experiences would have made her jaded or anxious. That she could still enjoy his comforting touch and relax into his embrace, it boded well for the future. Maybe they could find a way through this. Maybe they could learn to be at ease about all the new openness that had been forced on them. It's not that they had ever been anything but open and comfortable with each other and certainly they had always been very familiar with each other. They were closer than most fathers and daughters than he knew. He knew he had a rare jewel and treasure in his relationship with her. He had so deeply feared losing that that when she relaxed into his embrace he let out a breath that surprised him he had been holding.

Her explanation of what had been done and not done to her evoked decidedly mixed feelings. Of course the beating, under feeding and degradation angered him. That he kept to him self. He endeavored to maintain his stoic mask listening to her. He explanation about the examination stirred a deeper hatred about the common way she was treated. That she was not and could not be touched till bought spurred his greatest conflicted feelings. He was grateful to the law he hated; that she was not then and certainly would never now be subject to a mans touch, particularly a man she did not want. The thought of some stranger forcing his attentions on her caused such a rage he nearly lost control of his carefully constructed and maintained mask. The comment about her not being “ruined” thrilled him. It inferred she was still a virgin. Like any father the thought of any man touching his little girl in such a way greatly distressed him. Though again like any good father he would never admit it out loud. She was and always would be his baby girl.

He lay there and held her for a long time. The shadows moved and evening was dawning. He began to become aware of his daughter's body next to him. His earlier awareness of her utter femaleness grew and he could feel his body begin to respond to having so beautiful a girl in his arms, a beautiful nude girl. It really had been quite sometime since he had opened his heart or his bed to any woman. But this was his daughter so he dashed those thoughts and rising feelings against his love of her. He got out of bed with her under the pretext of readying for the nights rest. He told her to take the bed and he would create a palate on the floor.

At her words about sharing the bed he became immediately aware of her nude form and her beauty. She spoke of wearing her clothes to sleep in. He immediately snatched up the clothes she wore back from the slave market and threw them into the fire. “You will never wear those clothes again. They carry the taint of that place and what they did to you. I have new, clean clothes here. Tomorrow you can choose what you will to wear.” Calming a bit he continued. "You should sleep as you are. Sleep in your new clothes and they will be rumpled and wrinkled. We need to show a superior face to these monsters. We need to be seen as clean and well groomed and carry ourselves with a baring that shames them.”

He considered her again. “Nor will we go out to buy bedclothes. I could not go out without you, I cannot let you out of my presence unchained and,” he sneered at the leash and collar, “I am not prepared to put that thing back on you.” He sighed heavily, “No, honey. You sleep in the bed as you are and I will make a palate on the floor and sleep in my clothes. We'll figure everything else out later.” He blushed deeply as a thought flitted across his mind. A thought of him climbing nude into bed with his little girl. He shook the random thought off physically and grunted. “Yes, sweetheart, that is likely the best course. Just let me get my bed roll and spread it out. Its been a little while. Would you like me to order more food? I'll have them just set it on the floor outside the door...”

For a brief moment, Eva thought she saw something strangely familiar in her father's eyes. It sent a faint blush over her cheeks as she was again made aware of her own nudity. Cajetan's gaze, however, lacked the malice that the men at the temple held. There was no cruelty to be had from him.

Nonetheless, she found her arm moving to cover her bare chest.

The feeling had been fleeting, though, and as quickly as she thought she'd seen something, the sensation was gone. Whatever she thought might have been behind her father's otherwise stalwart appearance was nowhere to be found. She must have been imagining things, a combination of the stress and exhaustion compounded over the past few long weeks.

The familiarity of the indignant rage that her father displayed at just the memory of the market, the short outburst as he tossed the clothes into the fire, shook her from whatever thoughts had crept in. He put his foot down when it came to their current sleeping arrangements. Perhaps further away from the temple they would be able to figure out something more comfortable for the both of them, but she knew the tone he was taking with her. He rarely backed down when his mind was already set on something like this.

"You'll have to put it back on eventually, unless you plan on staying in this little room for the next thirteen years," she said pointedly. "And I know I'd rather get away from here as quickly as possible." She rolled out of bed and padded across the room, bare feet all but silent on the wooden floors. Even in her hands, the collar felt heavy as she picked it up, the weight of it around her neck already a humiliating memory. "We can't avoid their laws and customs while we're here. I know it pains you to have to treat me like one would an unruly dog, but what choice do we have?"

She took a seat on the edge of the bed, still fiddling with the rough leather band in her hands before setting it down on the nightstand.

"It won't be forever. They cannot possibly force us to keep this up when we arrive home, they can't expect me to be under your watch in our home. Not like this," she said.

"Perhaps once we're out of the city, they'll at least allow us separate beds, so neither of us has to sleep on the floor. I can only hope that the rest of their land is not nearly as barbaric when it comes to such things."

As she finished speaking, she stretched out on the bed again, damp hair hanging loosely around her face. "I'm not hungry, what you got before was plenty. I'd much rather get some sleep; I want to get home as soon as we can."

Even as she finished speaking, she had started to doze, eyes falling closed as she listened to her father moving about the room to ready himself for bed. The noise became a dull, pleasant drone in her senses, and though she tried to focus on it to stay awake, it wasn't long before her breathing slowed and settled, blanket half draped over her lower body as she hadn't quite managed to pull it over herself. Morning would come soon enough, and then they could leave this awful city behind them.

Seeing his daughter blush and cover herself broke his heart. He knew the depravity of his thoughts were know clear to see and known to her. How could she ever trust him or be comfortable being alone with him now. From now on would every moment alone with him be a torture for her? Would she live in fear he'd act on a random thought? He sighed and looked away from her dejectedly.

He started when she mentioned the collar and staying here with him for years and her desire to go home. “Honey, I'd happily live in this room alone with you if it meant I never had to put that thing back on you. But I know what you are saying … I just want to put it off a little longer is all.” His voice was quiet and plaintive. Her picking it up and holding it sent a deep shiver through him. A shiver of deepest revulsion. “Honey I don't think we can escape their laws even when we leave here. It's been my experience this place and the capital are the two most “civilized” places in these lands.” The sneer in his voice at the word civilized was markedly severe. “Nor do I think we can hope to really escape when we get back home. They way they told me their god watches, it screamed “spies” to me. I believe we will be constantly watched, even in our own home. It's clear they are looking for any excuse to declare their “holy war”. He let out an audible breath when she set the collar down. “Perhaps we can find rooms on the way home that have two beds and we can certainly try to find bed clothes for you. Though what the call women's bed clothes here I wouldn't put on a whore. It seems they use and objectify every one here. He let out another deep sigh. “Camp at night will be easier. As long as you are in my line of sight.

He nodded at her refusal of more food and as she settled down in bed he finally got around to eating his cold meal. He set his bed roll up and sat on it watching her sleep. So peaceful so precious. He loved her and marveled at her. Hie errant thoughts still deeply disturbed him and he sat trying to reconcile them, but mostly he sat watching her sleep peacefully. She ease and comfort pleased him. Occasionally he note her bared breasts and after the third time he caught himself looking and forcing he gaze away he went over and pulled the blanket all the way up to her chin. Returning to his bed roll and sat and just watch his precious girl, his treasure and his reason for living. Dawn found her waking to his still sitting there watching her. It was almost as if he feared if he took his eyes off her she might disappear again.

(I might regret trying to reply when slightly intoxicated, so I apologize if my writing is subpar lol)

"I don't want to live in a cage. Be it metal bars, or the confines of this room," she replied quietly, her voice solid and even. If there was anything she was certain on, it was this, that she could not spend the next decade locked in this tiny room in the inn. She was certain she'd go crazy, like a horse tethered to a fence for too long. Even if she knew she'd never be truly free, that she'd have rules to abide by, she couldn't bear losing the freedom to at least walk the streets, even if she had to remain under her father's supervision.

They would do what they had to. Though, it seemed that convincing her father that they would, at least for the time, need to abide by this country's laws, would be a harder task than she thought. To him, the collar was perhaps a reminder of what he couldn't protect, where his failings lay as his only daughter had been taken and branded a slave. To her, though...it was only a strip of leather, and as long as her father was the only one holding the other end of it, she knew she would be in secure hands. He'd never so much as hurt her, it had always pained him to even give her a well-deserved lashing with his belt when she had been an unruly child. He'd never abuse the complete power he suddenly had over her.

Sleep came easier than she had expected. Her body was exhausted, her mind begged for the dull abyss that sleep granted. It felt like she had only been out for mere minutes when she found herself woken by the first glimmer of sunlight through the small window in their room.

Her eyes fluttered open, and the first thing she noticed was the familiar weight of the blanket over her shoulders, followed quickly by her father's form, sitting watch from across the room. Had he stayed up all night? He couldn't have, he must have just woken earlier than she had. She stretched as she sat up, one hand keeping the blanket clutched to her chest, keeping her bare body from view of her father. She tried to shake the memory of the looks she had caught him giving her, but...something pulled deep in the bit of her stomach as he watched her. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but she was very aware now that he saw her as a woman. Not that she thought he'd ever act on it, especially in a way that would hurt her. But who knew what situations fate would force them in.

She watched him for a moment as she rubbed her eyes, and brushed her fingers through the tangles that had formed in her hair while she slept. "Is there water in here? I'm rather thirsty..." she said after a few moments of silence.

Yes, he had sat up the whole night watching, no keeping watch over his daughter. And he thought. He thought about a great many things. He thought about her abduction and having been forbidden to use military force to get her back. Though in retrospect perhaps that was wise. If he'd attacked en masse they could have used her against him or just killed her to punish him. Though then he would never have stopped till every man, woman and child of this nation lay dead, still they might have thought it worth the chance to kill her to halt his intended invasion. He still was not completely unsure he shouldn't go over to the “temple” and put every living being there that was not a slave to the blade. But if he did that getting back out of the country would be much harder and he would not further risk he baby girl.

He thought of the number 13. She would have to be his slave for 13 years. By time she was free she would be too old for any of the other Lords to consider for marriage. This also effectively ruined her future and hope at a marriage. What kind of love life could she have under his gaze all the time. He saw her nude for again in his mind and that was what had consumed most of his mind most of the night. His shameful and lustful new awareness of her as a woman and a stunning woman at that. He had feared that his unwelcome thoughts might show through to her and then in utter horror he saw her covering her self and knew, knew she saw his shame and his monsterousness. He loved her, but how could love him anymore knowing the unbidden thoughts that had come to him. She was a beautiful woman and he'd have to be blind not to see it, but for it to even for an instant heat his blood? He shook his head.

She began stirring and he watched and considered the entirety of their situation. Then he saw her covering herself with the blanket and with a deep hurt he looked away from her. She knew. She knew he'd, as unwillingly as it have have been, she knew he'd had those thoughts. His deepest shame was laid bare to her. How could he see him the same? He knew the answer, or at least thought he did. She could not. Look how she now has enough wariness and revulsion of him to feel the need to consciously keep herself covered. What kind of torture with the next years with him be for her? How will she endure it knowing that those thoughts can even in passing occur to him. He figured he must disgust her now.

When she finally spoke it mildly surprised him do deeply was he in his reflections. Without saying a word and keeping he eyes averted from her he got the fresh water that was left outside the door this morning, poured and brought her a glass. It was an awkward proposition, as he would not even look in her direction enough to see where to place the glass. He saw her new found modesty with him, twice now and knew he would not cause her the heart ache of believing he hungered after in that way. He didn't of course. They were just stray thoughts, just a new awareness of her. But the thought had registered on his face and she had seen. Her reaction told him she, in some small way, now feared him, as he so believed anyway, and it broke his heart, but he could not make her see him as she had before. He could not make her comfortable in her body with him as she had been. Maybe he was over thinking it. Maybe he was reading too much into her reactions. Maybe she felt none of those things or maybe she was uncomfortable because she was the only one unclothed. Perhaps if he had last night to bath the commonality of it the sharing of it with each other would have made her more at ease, or not. The bottom line was he didn't know. Not really and couldn't without asking her and he could not imagine do that.

Eva bit her lip as she watched her father, as she took the glass from him, and drank down the refreshing liquid. The night's rest had helped her recharge and to regain her strength. She had slept well for the first time since her capture. Under her father's watch, despite the lingering feeling of him seeing her as a woman, as more than just his daughter, she knew she was safe. At least, she was as safe as he could possibly keep her. They still had this region's laws and god to answer to.

A servant brought up a meal for the two of them, warm bread and fresh milk, as well as some of the meat left from the previous night's dinner. It wasn't lavish, but it was filling and welcome after a long night's rest. Eva managed to keep her manners about her this time, no longer starved as she had been at the time of her rescue. She remained seated on the bed, though she had let the blanket drop as she ate, still unclothed as she had nothing to wear.

"When will we be leaving here?" she asked as she finished her morning meal, looking over to her father for an answer. She was still anxious to get home. Even if they had to abide by the laws here, she was willing to walk leashed if she must, to be chained or even marched naked through the streets if it meant they would be closer to returning to their home. Her father, though, seemed hesitant to even step foot outside of this small room.

"I know...you have some hesitations..." she started as she stood, again picking up the collar from where she had left it the previous night. She felt the weight of the heavy leather in her hands, ran her fingers over the rough edges and metal buckle. It would not be a pleasant accessory to wear, but if she must...

She bit her lip, then slowly, buckled the band back around her neck, partially so her father could be free of the guilt of being the one to do it. If it would help him and, in doing so, coax him to the road home, she'd wear it as long as she needed to.

From the moment she stirred and noticed that he had kept watch over her all night, the moment saw he was aware she was awake he turned his face from her. He would not look at her. When retrieving their meal and even while eating, he sat with his back to her. When she moved about the room he turned his face to his gaze would not fall on her. When she walked up to him with the end of the leash in her hand he dropped his face into his hands and let out a sob. Finally he said, “I know you saw the look of a man's appreciation of a woman in my eye yesterday, my daughter. I have seen how it has changed how easy and carefree you used to be with me. Twice in the last six hours, you have covered yourself from my sight when once it would have been nothing between us.” Head still lowered and in fact it seemed as it he was trying to bury his face in his own lap. “I assure you they were errant thoughts. A man wonder at the marvelous of the hand of the Master Craftsman in creating his crowning achievement; you. You are a gorgeous woman, a beauty beyond even your mother. I will not lie and say I will never see and savor the beauty that is in you. The gloriousness wrought by the gods in you. I will not lie and say a lustful thought did not enter my mind nor would it ever again. You are wrought by the gods to be the epitome of feminine beauty, to my mind at least.

“I honestly cannot comprehend how you can stand being in the same room with me knowing that even though a passing thought as it was, I was still able to have such a thought about you, my daughter, love of my life, seed of my soul. I cannot imagine what torture, what hell the next 13 years will be like for you tied to such a beast as can find such a simple pleasure in his daughter's sublime beauty.” He sighed and let all that sink in for a long moment then before either of them could make it worse by speaking about it more he said. “Those two whole chests over there are filled with your clothes, as least the ones I always remembered you favoring. No, I do not want to put the lease on you, but know at some point I must. When that point comes, I will do it. I failed to protect you and so brought you to this, I will not fail to do what is needful to get you out. And however repugnant and disgusting we believe their customs are, I plan to keep us locked away in this room at least two, maybe three days. As untrue as it will be, they will believe I have taken you as a pleasure slave and so will assume I will ensure you will always be close at hand which in itself means more freedoms for you. Like only a month in the collar instead of the normal year.”

Finally looking up into her eyes with his heavily laden with tears he asks if there is any part of this plan she would change or think better of. Then, she saw a new first from her father. Even swearing fealty to their king he was powerful enough a Lord to simply bow and place his hands between the Kings and say the words. But her powerful and proud father who had never knelt to any man knelt before her. His voice broke. “I cannot ask forgiveness or understanding for whatever stray thoughts may enter my mind but whatever is mine to make this up to you I happily yield it to you. I cannot stand you being wary of me as if I were every other man. I am not.” He removed his dagger and placed the hilt in her hand and the point over his heart, “Anything it takes to make this right between us again, please, by all the gods take it.”

Eva felt her chest tighten the longer she listened to her father speak.

All her life, he had been a boulder, never faltering, never showing weakness. He couldn't. Not in his position, not as a man with lands, and enemies, and everything that came with it. To see him on the verge of tears, spilling his heart to her, was to see a man she had never met before.

His words dug deep, acknowledging what she had been trying to hard to avoid. He had looked at her in a way no father should, as more than just his daughter, but as a woman. She found herself avoiding his eye again as he turned back to face her, the silence between them stifling as they were forced to recognize what had happened the night before, how something so simple as a wayward gaze had hammered a wedge between them.

She glanced over to the chest he mentioned, eager for the familiarity of her own clothes, something from home, more than the rags they had given her at the slave market. She turned to move over, but felt his hand against hers, pulling her attention back to her father.

He knelt in front of her, dagger to his heart, putting himself to her mercy. She felt the weight of the knife in her hand as he released it. His life was in her hands, and, if she so desired, she could end him right there.

After a shocked pause, the dagger clattered to the ground. She could never bring herself to even think about doing such a thing. Seeing her father in tears, brought to his knees, instilled a new determination in her. They would get home, and they would not ever let their tormentors get the better of them.

Without an ounce of hesitation, she dropped to her knees in front of her father, and nudged her way into his arms, under the crook of his elbow like she would as a child, when storms battered at their walls, or when scurrying rodents would keep her awake through the night. While not forgotten, his iniquity was, at least for the most part, forgiven. She said nothing, no words could really speak the way her actions did, as she nestled herself close to her father, wanting nothing more than to feel the comfort of his embrace.

He watched the gambit of emotion run across his daughter's face, from horror to shock to revulsion and finally to resignation. He heard the blade clatter to the floor beside him. He felt his daughter's weight laid against his chest and his arms automatically enclosed her. His head fell to her shoulder and his nostrils were filled with the scent of her. A sob escaped his throat as his heart began to race and his blood began to heat. “Baby girl, it was just a stray thought, a random idea. I swear to you I would never do anything to you that would be hurtful or harmful to you. I certainly would never do anything to you without your leave.” It was only when the last sentence was out of his mouth that the import of what it meant, what it implied struck him.

He loved his daughter. Was it possible he was falling in love with her? Or was it the extreme conditions and circumstances of their situation? It was only going to get worse. Thirteen years locked alone together with only each other as one anothers most intimate and close company? They, neither of them could ever ask another person to tolerate such an arrangement. Besides she could never marry till she was free. He had rejected other women's love because he wanted to focus all his love and attention on being a good father to his little Eva. Now she would never know the feel of a man's love because he failed to protect her when she needed him most.

Was it fair she never know a man's love? Was it fair he never take another woman for his love of her. She was the whole of him. She was all his world and the best parts of him. He would do anything for her and refrain from anything for her. If these thoughts and feeling kept coming and they would only ever be allowed to have each other for the coming years, why consider them wrong? He could not fully embrace the idea, not yet. However he had to have some idea of how things stood with her, truly. Was there even a chance she may grow as lonely and needful as he knew he would or would she always feel repulsed by his errant thought? Would she ever be able to come to terms with such an idea as the best solution to a terrible situation?

He did love her, desperately and knew now that he could all too easily fall in love with her. Was there even the slightest spark of the chance of that in her? Might they make this torturous sentence less a torment of loneliness and aloneness? He had no illusions that there WILL be spies in his Home to ensure they lived by the tenets of the agreement or war would ensue. He whispered in her ear with all the feeling and tenderness in his heart, “I love you Eva. You and you alone are my heart and soul, my life and my all.” Tentatively the tried to kiss her on the lips. A chaste fatherly kiss, but with just a hint of fire in it. Enough of a hint that if felt it could be returned but so little that she could be forgiven for thinking it was all imagination. If he had to be inflicted with these thoughts, he could right here and right now prove or disprove how real any possibility of them were.