Thread: The Concubine     (Fanatic/Nika)

Alicia watched the foreign slave babble in her harsh language, waving her arms about and fussing. Was that a look of contempt on the young girl's face? Barbarians, these people of the north, even the slaves. She did not understand them, nor why the Legionnaire allowed the slave to speak so freely, but it was not her place to inquire into the private properties of another. She simply turned her face, impassively. Whatever had riled the slave was no concern of hers. Impassively cool shoulders did tense however as the man approached her. He sauntered nude, no his stance and gait reminded her more of a predator's prowl. The Vestalis did not lift her eyes off the map, nodding silently as she fixed her eyes on the piece and traced the miles upon miles south to the city of Rome. The most northern piece. Alicia felt the cold twist within her. She was the farthest of any Roman from Rome. The woman did not lift her head until he was dressed. Taking the goblet from his hand, Alicia nodded as she glanced down to the dark liquid within the cup, Many thanks, Legionnaire. But no, he was not a Legionnare. A General, and a General commanding the best military forces of Rome. Alicia's eyes widened and flicked around the tent once more, before they fell back to the cup and her head dipped slightly in her embarrassment. An honor, she managed, General. Forgive me, I did not know. The fingers of her left hand rose to undo the fastening clip that held her veil in place. It fell open, and the entirety of her delicate features were revealed, the smooth planes of her fair cheeks just below downcast eyes were dusted with a scattering of light spots, trailing over the bridge of her nose. The veil gave way to a expressive mouth, the corners of unpainted lips turned down. The tint of her blood still raised in her cheeks, she could once more feel his stare. Immediately, Alicia took a sip of the wine, soothing a nervous and now-dry throat. It wet her lips unconsciously, she licked the droplet of moisture from her lip before glancing back to him. The wine had a strange flavor, similar to the wine of their home vineyards, yet strange. Forgive me, She apologized once more, I was not told my purpose for this travel. A Vestal does not usually travel alone, and it is strange I should come so far without my sisters, for I am not the high priestess, Alicia caught herself rambling, and she paused to quiet the hidden panic in her voice, Am I to lead worship here? To bless this camp? The strangeness of this turn of events could be seen written in her face, for once showing a flicker of uncertainty behind the poised facade. The girl was lost, unaware of her fate. She did not understand why she would be taken to the frontier, amongst men of battle, to bring a blessing of the hearth and home. These men were nowhere near their homes and families, how then, would a ceremony of one of the goddess Vesta's pledged Vestal Virgin's aid? The god these warriors prayed and sacrificed to was Mars. One of the old myths came to her mind, unbidden and unwanted. Perhaps it was brought upon by the powerful man who stood before her. The tale of Rhea Silvia , a Vestal Virgin like herself. She, pure and chaste, was ripped from her vestal bed. Set upon and overpowered by the war god Mars. They had twins by him, Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome.