Anders (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
apurrstate) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
makinglies2016-08-18 11:44 am
apurrstate) wrote in makinglies2016-08-18 11:44 am
Entry tags:
Hindi Sad Diamonds
When he woke up this morning, it was to an aching back and a cold hard cot stuffed away in the back of his master's home. The sun had barely turned the morning air blue and purple and already the streets were alive with merchants setting up shop for the day, Master Irving included.
Hours later, his life had turned upside down.
The chill of the evening was already setting in even with the sun dipping into the horizon, but Anders could feel it all too well against his bare skin and, what little clothing he was wearing, was hardly protecting him from the air. The sleeves of what could barely be called a shirt when it really only covered the top part of his chest and left his abdomen open to the air, were so sheer his arms were clearly visible in them. The long stretch of bare skin was only interrupted by the wrap artfully tied low around his hips, his legs encased in some sort of thin but stretchy material that showed off exactly how long they were. The clothes themselves were in rich shades of blue he never could have afforded for himself in all his life, but the most ostentatious part of the entire outfit were the strings of small pearls artistically string through his tied up hair.
He felt like a show animal and, he supposed, that was exactly what he'd become.
Anders tried not to stare at the opulence of the room he'd been left in and instead focused on poking into every nook and cranny to see if there might be a way to escape. As he searched, his mind drifted over his insane situation and questions of just how exactly he'd managed to end up here.
Being bought to be the palace's potion maker and healer seemed like a dream come true and the women who'd picked him up seemed nice enough and certainly beautiful enough to have come from the palace themselves. But then he'd been brought in through the back and put through what could only be called luxurious torture. They'd shoved him into the longest and most fragrant bath in a tub he would have sworn was as big as the entire hovel he'd just come from. Isabela and Merrill (as he'd come to learn) had stayed with him every step of the way, even as other servants came and went to help with various stages of his 'cleaning,' trimming his hair and nails and waxing him in a way he swore was actually a new torture technique used by the rich, all finished off by the two women dressing him up like he now was and dumping him in this room.
Isabela made it very clear very quickly their intent for bringing him here wasn't simply to make potions and heal ailments, he was meant to be a courtesan to none other than the Maharajah. He'd lost his breath in that moment. Few had even seen the man, much less knew much about him. His presence was more like that of a distant god to those in the town, affecting their lives but rarely visible. Perhaps it wouldn't seem so utterly terrifying if the two women hadn't filled his head with images of some large quiet brute with the sexual prowess of the very god citizens painted him to be. At least, that's how Isabela painted the picture. Marrill's side of things was much more vague, but tried to highlight the good things like how the lord Hawke had a very nice smile when he used it and had a lovely voice that was smooth as silk. He'd had to bite back the sarcastic retort about how that was sure to make him feel better when the time came.
On top of all of that, he knew well what was expected of a courtesan, he'd known plenty of women who dismissed the notion and many who longed for it and Anders knew he really wanted no part of it, he had no interest in 'satisfying' whatever lords or ladies the Maharajah decided he would 'lend' Anders to. He might be dressed and painted to be some show horse, but he wouldn't be treated like one.
Which was why he needed to find an escape route. Even if this first night couldn't be avoided, he would find a way out and finally gain the freedom he'd thought he'd been stepping into this morning. He should have known there'd be a catch.
The sound of the chamber's outer door opening had Anders scrambling away from a somewhat promising view of the balcony and the wall beside it to avoid his intentions being found out. He stood, heart pounding in his head and chest, in the middle of the grand room, eyes fixed on the doorway. This was it, he was only seconds from meeting a man rumored to have an iron fist and unflinching dedication to break whatever got in the country's way. He would surely be a terror of a man.
Hours later, his life had turned upside down.
The chill of the evening was already setting in even with the sun dipping into the horizon, but Anders could feel it all too well against his bare skin and, what little clothing he was wearing, was hardly protecting him from the air. The sleeves of what could barely be called a shirt when it really only covered the top part of his chest and left his abdomen open to the air, were so sheer his arms were clearly visible in them. The long stretch of bare skin was only interrupted by the wrap artfully tied low around his hips, his legs encased in some sort of thin but stretchy material that showed off exactly how long they were. The clothes themselves were in rich shades of blue he never could have afforded for himself in all his life, but the most ostentatious part of the entire outfit were the strings of small pearls artistically string through his tied up hair.
He felt like a show animal and, he supposed, that was exactly what he'd become.
Anders tried not to stare at the opulence of the room he'd been left in and instead focused on poking into every nook and cranny to see if there might be a way to escape. As he searched, his mind drifted over his insane situation and questions of just how exactly he'd managed to end up here.
Being bought to be the palace's potion maker and healer seemed like a dream come true and the women who'd picked him up seemed nice enough and certainly beautiful enough to have come from the palace themselves. But then he'd been brought in through the back and put through what could only be called luxurious torture. They'd shoved him into the longest and most fragrant bath in a tub he would have sworn was as big as the entire hovel he'd just come from. Isabela and Merrill (as he'd come to learn) had stayed with him every step of the way, even as other servants came and went to help with various stages of his 'cleaning,' trimming his hair and nails and waxing him in a way he swore was actually a new torture technique used by the rich, all finished off by the two women dressing him up like he now was and dumping him in this room.
Isabela made it very clear very quickly their intent for bringing him here wasn't simply to make potions and heal ailments, he was meant to be a courtesan to none other than the Maharajah. He'd lost his breath in that moment. Few had even seen the man, much less knew much about him. His presence was more like that of a distant god to those in the town, affecting their lives but rarely visible. Perhaps it wouldn't seem so utterly terrifying if the two women hadn't filled his head with images of some large quiet brute with the sexual prowess of the very god citizens painted him to be. At least, that's how Isabela painted the picture. Marrill's side of things was much more vague, but tried to highlight the good things like how the lord Hawke had a very nice smile when he used it and had a lovely voice that was smooth as silk. He'd had to bite back the sarcastic retort about how that was sure to make him feel better when the time came.
On top of all of that, he knew well what was expected of a courtesan, he'd known plenty of women who dismissed the notion and many who longed for it and Anders knew he really wanted no part of it, he had no interest in 'satisfying' whatever lords or ladies the Maharajah decided he would 'lend' Anders to. He might be dressed and painted to be some show horse, but he wouldn't be treated like one.
Which was why he needed to find an escape route. Even if this first night couldn't be avoided, he would find a way out and finally gain the freedom he'd thought he'd been stepping into this morning. He should have known there'd be a catch.
The sound of the chamber's outer door opening had Anders scrambling away from a somewhat promising view of the balcony and the wall beside it to avoid his intentions being found out. He stood, heart pounding in his head and chest, in the middle of the grand room, eyes fixed on the doorway. This was it, he was only seconds from meeting a man rumored to have an iron fist and unflinching dedication to break whatever got in the country's way. He would surely be a terror of a man.