Sacrifice Ch. 07

Another woman, no doubt seeing how amusing the Host found this, and not to be outdone, pipped up as well. "That is it exactly! And to add besides, what have we women to do with honor," she pouted prettily, "since we cannot fight for it as men do?" Then added, looking slyly to the others, "And since what little we are born with is such an easy thing to lose."

"Yes, a fruit so easily plucked." Quipped another.

They laughed. "Or pricked. As it takes just a little nudge from the daintiest prick, and it is gone." Agreed Anahita, to their continued amusement.

"So you see, it is a light thing." Penelope finished with a pleased smile and airy gesture.

The Host chuckled and turned back to Calliope. "Are you convinced?"

She sighed mentally and gave him a mild smile. "I suppose I must stand down before such a united front. I yield..."

He opened his mouth to speak, and she quickly added, "In theory at least, if not in practice."

His mouth twitched into a frown for a half-second before manufacturing another smile. "Well...I suppose that is the best we can do...for now." He offered with a shrewd glance, then turned a warmer smile on the other ladies. "Perhaps if you ladies continue your siege, you will yet break her down."

"We shall do our best, lord." Penelope chimed. He nodded to Penelope, and then Calliope with another, more gracious smile.

She couldn't find a voice to speak with, or words worth saying, so she merely bowed again and watched him go. He left behind him a sense of dread that hung over her shoulders, as heavy and stifling as a woolen rug. She hated how discomfited he'd made her feel.

"Really Calliope, you should be more careful." Chided Penelope. "Your master may not be fond of him, but you won't help matters by being so stiff and awful."

She blinked. "I was perfectly polite."

Penelope rolled her eyes again. "Well, your supposed good breeding did very little to hide your contempt."

"I'm not sure what you mean." She hedged, noting the sardonic look in Penelope's eye. She knew full well, obviously...but truth be told had no real desire to disguise it, even if it was in her best interests. The looks she received from the other women varied from person to person, ranging from amusement, to the very contempt Penelope spoke of.

"But perhaps I should take my leave of you as it is." Calliope didn't wait to be excused and gave them a brief half-bow. "Good day to you all."

**

"Good evening Master."

Calliope was standing in the bedroom, lost in thought, when she heard the door open behind her. He entered silently, but she somehow knew who it was.

He returned her greeting with a grunt.

"I filled the bath if you like."

Another guttural sound of...not quite annoyance, but not pleasure either.

She ran a hand over her stomach. The movement was becoming something of a habit.

"Did you know Demitri had children?" she murmured as a large shadow encroached on the edge of her vision.

"Yes."

"Oh." She turned toward the flash of silver-grey which appeared in the corner of her eye. She had to tilt her head back to look up into his eyes as he loomed over her. His gaze was directed, pointedly, at the placement of her hands over her belly. She felt a twinge, but left them where they were.

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. He just told me about it. It...it's very sad. How many did he have?"

"Three, I think. He doesn't like to talk about it. Unsurprisingly."

"Do..." She trailed off, uncertain.

"What?"

She shook her head. She was thinking nonsense. Being pregnant really was making her daft and sentimental.

He sighed. "I hate it when you do that. Spit it out. What were you going to say?"

"I honestly don't even know. I was speaking before the thought was fully formed. I'm just...fretting is all."

"About what?"

"Everything...apparently." She muttered despondently.

He chuckled. "Don't."

"Easier said than done."

"Consider it an order."

She half-rolled her eyes. "Yes, Master. Your every wish is my command."

He smirked. "Don't get smart."

"Why whatever do you mean, my Lord?"

She let out a surprised yelp as he passed behind her to the bath, smacking her rear lightly as he did.

She turned in order to give him a put out glare, but he was facing away as he stepped into the bath. The glare would have been wasted, so she didn't bother.

Instead she found herself watching him—examining the broad expanse of his heavy shoulders, the long swathes of muscle along his back and sides...the way the faint wisps of steam were licking up around his thick calves as he stepped into the water. Her eyes followed where it collected along the thigh and the hard planes of his flexing...

She flushed and turned away, her hand instinctively brushing her neck, as if expecting to find similar droplets of steam there as well.

When she glanced back he was seated with his elbows propped casually along the baths edge and had turned his head to look back at her. He wasn't grinning like a wolf, so she could only assume that he hadn't seen her staring.

He turned away. "Join me." He commanded gruffly. Always so demanding. She suppressed her smile.

She arched a brow at the back of his head. "I'm busy." She returned lightly.

He snorted. "Doing what?"

"Things. Things and...stuff." She knew he could hear the teasing smile in her voice. She certainly could. She reached up and unpinned the knot at the back of her head, uncoiling the braid and slowly tugging it loose through her fingers.

"Horseshit." He still didn't turn around, but he lifted a hand to wave her over. She obliged and sat on the wide ledge surrounding of the bath, still loosening her dark curls.

"You beckoned, Master?"

He reached up, smirking again, and grasped the side of her thigh, leaving a wet splotch on her dress.

"At-ta-ta-ta..." she winced and pushed his hand away. "You'll get my clothes wet."

"Then take it off."

It was her turn to scoff. "So that was the plan, was it?"

He didn't smile, and she wasn't sure what to make of his serious expression. She shrugged and kept him in the corner of her eye. He watched her as she pulled away and untied her belt... only to refold her skirt at the waist to lift the hem to mid-thigh.

She noted that his face was still strangely impassive. "It seems to me it would have been easier to just take it off." He rumbled.

"And let you get away with that? Hardly." She soften her rebuke by slipping in closer. She leaned against the back of his shoulder, bending one leg beneath her and letting her other foot dangle down into the water. He accepted the conciliatory prize and massaged the offered calf. She considered reciprocating but found she was presently too comfortable to consider moving. So she simply rested her arm and chin on his shoulder and enjoyed the moment as it was. Besides, he had made himself bigger again, so rubbing his shoulders seemed like far too much work at the moment.

She smirked a little. It seemed that he was getting a little larger each day...as if his frustration was linked to his size. It was, she considered, though not in that way. It was no doubt a conscious effort to display his growing impatience and encroaching ire to his brethren, and to do it through sheer intimidation. It amused her somewhat, even if she feared what the reaction of said brethren might eventually be.

But then his size did have other benefits. There was something inexplicably wonderful about being able to wrap herself around him completely and still not encompass him fully. She closed her eyes and smirked, even in his smallest form he was a proper giant in that respect. Currently, draped as she was over his shoulder, that fact was more than obvious.

She slid her foot along his thigh, tracing its thick length. As she did, a snippet of some half remembered poem tripped brokenly through her mind: I know the shape of his leg; this is his hand; his foot mercurial; his martial thigh...

Her own leg, her foot, felt small and delicate pressed against him.

She opened her eyes again and found his eyes closed, allowing her to freely examine and admire the broad angles of his profile. At least until he sighed deeply, upsetting her perch.

"What's troubling you, my Lord?" She asked softly, her eyes lingering on the heavy line of his jaw and the point of his tooth indented against his bottom lip.

"I'm bored. I hate sitting and waiting. I've been here too long as it is." She could tell by the edge in his voice that it was far more than boredom weighing on his mind.

She ran her fingernails up the back of his neck and felt him shudder slightly beneath her touch. She pressed her lips against his shoulder and smiled, if sadly.

"You're going, aren't you?" It was barely a question.

His fingers tightened around her ankle. She looked down at it, wondering at how his hand dwarfed her. "This upsets you." He wasn't going to deny it at least.

She hadn't thought she sounded upset, but maybe he just knew her well enough to tell. "I can tolerate this place when you're here..." She left the thought half finished, and saw him nod slightly.

"I'm afraid." She added after another silent moment.

"I have no intention of leaving you here."

She lifted her head at that, and searched his face with her eyes. "When will we go then?"

He tilted his head toward her and she could see the light in his red-gold eyes and the flicker of subdued fire. "Soon." His hand slid up her calf, twisting to draw his finger tips across the backs of her knee. It was her turn to shiver.

She pressed her body more tightly to his. "I want to go home."

"With me?"

She frowned and pulled away enough to meet his eyes. "You mean instead of with Demitri?"

"I mean to clarify which home you mean." He eyed her with a side long stare. "There is your father's home..." It was his turn to leave his thoughts incomplete. She pulled away and straightened, cocking her head to the side and frowning deeply.

"I fear I don't understand your question, and if I do...I don't think I like it."

His cool expression faltered and he raised a brow. "No?"

"No."

She thought she saw his lip twitch.

He turned toward her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in closer. "Calliope, I want to ask you something." She could feel the damp of his arm filtering through the cloth, but the look in his eyes made it hardly worth mentioning. Something was wrong.

She wet her lips and eyed him uncertainly. "What is it?"

He ground his jaw and looked away, expelling a harsh breath, then back into her eyes. "If something were to happen—"

It was her turn to look away, "—Thelios, don't say such—"

"Listen." His voice was low, but insistent. His hand gripped her hip tightly, prompting her to turn back to him. She didn't want to hear what he had to say, but she held her tongue. He noted her compliance and continued. "'If' does not mean 'when,' Calliope."

"I know." She offered softly when he seemed to require a response.

"It's perfectly reasonable to make contingencies." Again, he paused.

"I know."

"We need to discuss the possibility that something could happen to me."

She remained silent, even when he prompted her to speak by squeezing her hip again. "Well?" He finally asked.

"I don't want to talk about it...or discuss it, or...consider it." She swallowed hard to keep back the hot tears she knew were creating a lump in her throat. Thelios opened his mouth to argue and she help up a stalling finger. "But...I will."

He looked at her a moment, thoughtfully. "It isn't just you I'm trying to protect." He added in a low rumble.

She didn't know what to say to that. He hadn't really mention the child since she'd told him, even indirectly, and there was something about what he'd just said that sent a strange warmth through her limbs.

Protect. He wanted to protect the child. And her, she thought with a faint smile. She blinked the moisture from her eyes and nodded. "What was it you wanted to ask?"

"If something were to happen," he paused to eye her and make sure she didn't interrupt, "would your father take you under his protection?"

She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. She honestly didn't know. She thought a moment then spoke her thoughts plainly, unsure of what else to say. "I...don't know. My first thought was to say yes...but a second later, I wasn't as sure. If..." she hated to voice the words, but pressed on, "if I were a wife...and widowed, and with no father-in-law to claim me, then I do not doubt it. It would be his duty. But...I am not that, so I don't know where I stand."

"Even if I were a man?" He pressed. She nodded. He made a displeased sound.

"I fear you being...what you are," she continued, "would not help the situation. But to return as a pregnant slave, no matter who the master...well, I would be relying on affection alone to secure me a place in their home." She tipped her head thoughtfully. "I think if my younger sister were married I might be able to go to her, and hope her husband's affection for her would over-ride whatever shame my presence could bring into his home."

He shook his head. "Such idiocy." She arched a brow at him, and he returned her quizzical look with one of annoyance. His voice came out in a growl, "Forced from your home, pressed into service, and under duress...whether it be duty or fear, and for their sakes..." he paused to fume and shake his head again, "And somehow you could bring shame to them? Idiocy." He made a sound not dissimilar to a snarl and glared at the dark, tiled wall across from him.

His expression was dour, and should have been unnerving, but she couldn't bring herself to be put off by it. Not in the least. That tingling warmth which was still lingering in her veins had bloomed and washed all else away. She leaned into him again, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and attaching herself like a limpet to his side, and pressed her head back against his shoulder.

She felt him start when she gripped him, but he relaxed easily enough into her. A moment later she smiled as rough lips brushed lightly against her forehead. "It's...it's not fear or duty which compels me, my Lord." She murmured softly against his shoulder.

"Wasn't it?" He challenged, his voice as low as hers.

"It was. It hasn't been...for some time now." He said nothing. When she looked up, he was glaring at the wall again. She smiled sadly and took his face in her hand, turning it to face her. Her lips parted, to say something reassuring...but she forgot the words when her breath was stopped against his mouth.

She shivered and wrapped her arms that much tighter around him, pulling him closer until she was crushed against him. He did the same, threading fingers through her loose curls until they tightened at the nape of her neck. His mouth over hers was hard and hot...as always. And as always she melted happily into it.

How long since he'd kissed her this way? Since she'd felt like this? Days? It seemed an eternity. The joy she felt, the gratitude even, to have it back again...there weren't words to express it.

She found herself on her back with urgent fingers tugging her dress down her shoulders. The jasper tiles of the bath were cool against her already heated skin.

Her own half-frantic fingers left him just long enough to find and release the pin holding the cloth together before reaching back for him. She gasped as her dress fell open and his mouth found her throat.

Calliope tightened her grip around the straining, corded tendons of his neck and shuddered as her nails bit into skin. He returned the gesture with a growl, biting lightly into her shoulder and wringing another delighted shiver out of her, one that made her back arch against the huge chest pinning her to the floor.

She grinned at the ceiling and let her eyes flutter closed as his mouth moved lower and his hand higher between her thighs. They fell open at his touch, her hips lifting to induce him further. However, her coo of delight as his finger tips found and pressed between the the slick folds of her sex turned to a hiss of pain as his mouth found her hard, tender nipple a moment later.

His eyes shot up to hers, questioning. She rocked her hips against his hand encouraging him to keep going. "It's ok," she whispered thickly, "they're just....tender..."

He pulled away and leaned back, bringing the hand that had been wound in her hair down over her shoulder to gently cup her other breast. Normally they didn't quite fill his large hands, yet even with his added size, they seemed fuller than normal...and he must have recognized this since he seemed to move his hands over her experimentally, testing their weight with his palm. His expression darkened and he began to pull back completely.

"No! Don't stop," she gasped, reaching for his hand to pull it back to her.

He chuckled. It was a dark, thick sound...and it made her tug that much harder at his wrist.

"I must." He rasped as he easily resisted her. She groaned in disappointment.

"Why on earth must you?" she demanded, with a more than plaintive note hitching in her voice.

He returned her glare with a rueful smile. His hand slid up her thigh, making her buck hopefully, but it passed over her hip and smoothed with a firm touch over her stomach, stopping there as his smile turned to something else. She blushed at the insinuation.

"Do you find me so undesirable already?" She asked with a trembling smile, attempting to keep the hurt and fear from her voice.

Thelios kept his hand where it was on her belly, his thumb caressing the soft skin, but lifted himself to sit next to her on the edge of the bath. He turned towards her and gripped his now evident erection with his other hand. He looked her over with a hot grin, a grin which widened when her eyes did. He was...rather large. Or larger, she should say. In fact she quailed a little at the sight, and wondered if it might not be a little bit more than she could handle just then.

He released his manhood and leaned in over her, eclipsing her with his massive bulk. He brushed his mouth lightly against hers. "I think you can put that ridiculous thought out of your mind." She heard the smile in his voice and returned it.

He sat up again and turned serious. "I wish you'd told me sooner." Her blush deepened and she nodded. She was still flush and breathing deeply, but his words cooled her ardor somewhat.

Calliope nodded again. "I know. I'm sorry. It was foolish of me to be so anxious about it."

He shook his head slightly. "No, I don't begrudge you that..." He flinched, almost imperceptibly, and turned his gaze away. She bit her lip and covered his hand with one of hers, leaning up on the other.

"What? What is it?" She pressed.

He frowned. "I'm not exactly gentle with you...the last time especially. I could have..." his jaw tightened as his words fell off.

Her own expression of concern melted and she smiled warmly at him, lifting her hand from his to lay it against his cheek. "I'm fine. We're fine." She added.

"Perhaps. This time." He grumbled. "I'd rather not take that chance again."

Her stomach dropped. "I'm...I think if we're careful...I've heard it's only in the last months that they advise against it..." She flushed and looked down. "We'll just be careful."

"What, are you so eager?" He smirked.

"Aren't you?" She whispered roughly, meeting his gaze. His smirk faded and the fire in his eyes flared. Perhaps he thought she would deny it. "I've missed you. Missed this." She added. Her cheeks burned, but she refused to look away, even when his eyes darkened and seared into her.

She felt his hand leave her stomach and slide lower. She dared not breathe, nor break his gaze as his fingers found her slit once more and cupped her sex with a firm squeeze.