Sari stared up into his sapphire eyes, caught in their depths as surely as she had ever been in any of her Master's chains and cuffs. A small smile curved the dark-haired man's face as he reached out to stroke her cheek. Though the gesture was meant to deepen the intimacy of the moment, it jerked Sari out of her trance. With a small gasp she turned away.
"Sar?" He questioned in his smooth, deep voice. Sari shook her head, and took a few steps away, still turned away from him, her head ducked low so that her hair hid her face. When she spoke it was a low murmur.
"I-I'm sorry Zare. I can't. I just...Sorry." The last word held a hint of tears, and she dared not speak another word, if she wanted to maintain at least a semblance of composure. Silently, she walked away, grateful when she didn't hear his footsteps following.
She felt awful. How—how could she want two such different things at the same time? No. Not want. Need. A need felt with her body, her soul, her heart…The need to be safe, the need to be loved…The need to be truly loved, by that one particular person. Zare. And yet at the same time, every fiber of her being told her that loving Zare risked her safety. A safety she had been cultivating since she had escaped almost a year ago.
Sari cringed as she lay on the ground in a hunched bow.
"Stupid girl!" Jethro, her Trader and her Master, snarled at her. He had a whip in his hand, but Sari knew he wouldn't use it. He didn't dare risk giving her physical marks, with tools or with his hands. That wasn't what had Sari cowering in fearful submission. There were other things that could be done to a person. Rooms slaves could be left in, for days on end, coming out half-mad, but also more docile. There were drugs, and words, and situations…Already she had found herself subject to too many of Jethro's tricks, and each and every one of them would haunt her until her days ended.
"Please, I don't—" She pleaded softly, but he interrupted her with a shout.
"Silence!" He snarled threateningly. Sari snapped her mouth shut. Jethro continued.
"Dro paid good money for a willing participant. Sari, you should have known! A pretty slave such as yourself is always used for such things! But no. He took you into his bed, and you refused his touch. No, not just refused, fought it! You were born into this life girl, and eighteen years into it, you should have learned to accept it."
He paused, staring at the crumpled girl in front of him, her red-blond hair brushing the stone on the floor. He sighed,
"Master Dro said he'd be willing to try again. He called your reaction 'virginal nerves'. You will go to him tomorrow night and tell him it was exactly so. You will then do whatever he tells you to do, without complaint, is that understood?"
He didn't wait for her to respond. He stood and strode out the door. A moment later, two of his guards came in and escorted the shaken Sari to her room. As they began to step out of the room, a high-pitched scream came from the Masters quarters.
"Guards, guards! We're being attacked!" The voice of Jethro's wife rang out terrified. The two guards who had been exiting Sari's room exited hastily, running towards the noise. Sari slumped in her room, about to give in to her despair, when she realized something. She hadn't heard the lock click.
She'd escaped that night, and eventually found her way here, among the Serpiente and Avians of Wyvern's court. After so many trials and complications, the human girl had found something she'd never thought she'd find. Safety, acceptance, and freedom. Yet somehow she still couldn't escape from the shadows—created by her past—that clung to her so fiercely they often caused physical pain. How could she ever be rid of them? Her heart screamed at her every time she spotted Zare, talked to him. Every time he smiled at her or touched her, it cried out for her to respond, to encourage the contact. Her soul ached for something, and Sari was becoming more and more certain that it ached for that one thing her mind and her fear would never let her accept.
Her pace quickened into a jog as she neared the building that housed her room. There were few people downstairs to see her, and none she knew. She brushed past them, trying to keep herself composed enough that it wouldn't be blatantly obvious how close to tears, how close to falling apart, she was. When she finally reached her room, she slammed the door shut and fell upon her bed, her hands on her face to muffle the sobs wrenching her body. She felt so empty…She was so caught up in the chaos that was herself, that Sari didn't hear the soft footsteps that approached her, nor the quiet murmur of her name. What she did notice was the arm that wrapped around her back and pulled her into a firm, warm body. She blinked through her tears and looked up at her comforter, jumping as she realized who it was, but too tired now to push him away again.
"How—" She gave a small hiccup, took a breath, and continued, "How did you get in?" She questioned Zare.
"Window," He replied matter-of-factly. "It's not hard."
Sari closed her eyes and pressed her face against his chest. She found herself thinking that humans were somewhere between the Serpiente and Avians when it came to social conduct and regulations. In this moment, however, she lost all desire for reservation from physical contact. Knowing that Zare wouldn't fault her for it, she took full advantage of the comfort he offered, allowing him to hold her as she fought to stop the tears. She breathed in his scent. Past that strange reptilian tang, he smelled like fresh air, like the spices of the markets, and the scented candles that burned near the dancer's quarters. Beneath that blend of sweet every-day smells was the mild smell that was simply Zare. Sari had been too aware of his scent lately. She'd been too aware of other things, too. The way the sunlight caught his hair and made it shine like polished obsidian. The way his eyes gleamed with richer colors than any other being she'd met. The weakness in her knees whenever he flashed his white teeth in laughter. How the sound of his voice so often sent a gentle, pleasant chill up her spine. Oh yes. This one man, who had been such a prominent presence in her life from the moment she arrived here, had somehow broken past that bubble of paranoia, fear, and resistance that had kept her heart and her body isolated from such sensations.
Zare reached up a hand and brushed her hair away from her tearstained face in a gesture very similar to the one he'd used earlier. This time, Sari didn't break away. Instead she reached up with one of her own hands and caught his, holding it to her cheek. Amber colored eyes raised to meet his.
"I'm messed up, Zare." She told him, holding out her hand when he went to talk. "I know you don't mind. You've made that wonderfully clear. The very clarity of that fact is part of what makes me so…so afraid of you."
He frowned, but let her continue.
"I don't know if I can ever really trust anyone with…everything that is myself." She told him flatly, too tired to give anything but the truth. "Yet every time I see you, all I want to do is press myself into you, drop all the cares I've carried around with me. All the fear, all the suspicion, all the pain…But it's those cares that have protected me this long. That allowed me to live this life for myself. I always thought this would be enough, but it's not. I'm just not sure what is." She sniffled, but she was done with her tears now. Her hand had slipped down, and was now clasping the other in her lap. She lowered her eyes to stare at them, unsure how Zare would respond, now sure how she wanted him to.
Slowly, both his hands cup up to cup either side of her face, his thumbs putting gently pressure on her chin, making her look up. Before she could say anything, his lips brushed against hers softly, once, then twice, little feather kisses that sent a shiver down her back, and made her stomach flip. She sighed softly, the muscles in her body relaxing. Zare seemed to take that as a sign, and the passion behind his kiss increased. He melded his lips against her own, then pulled back slightly, still cupping her face in his hands. Sari realized that at some point her eyes at closed, and she couldn't bother to open them. Tentatively, she kissed him back, not as certain of her movements as he had been, but putting her heart into the action.
Zare huffed quietly, and his hands moved lower, roaming her shoulders and rubbing gently along her lower back as their breath mingled. Sari was becoming aware of a strange sort of warmth pooling inside her, rising up through her body and heightening her senses. When Zare's hands dipped under her shirt, she jumped and gasped, not expecting such a small, simple action to create such a jarring sensation. He soothed her, with his mouth and hands, silently conveying that it was all right. That no matter what happened, it would all be alright. For the first time, Sari found herself starting to believe him.
Empowered by this newfound confidence, she opened her eyes and moved her own hands off of her lap, to slip under Zare's shirt so that she could feel his warm chest beneath her hands. It was Zare who caught his breath this time, and he pulled back a few inches, his eyes burning like blue fire.
"Sari, perhaps you—we—should stop for a moment. Both of us…calm down." He didn't want to say the words, Sari heard the thread of subdued agony in his voice. Showing her teeth in a small flash of anger at his words, she shook her head.
"I can't, now. Don't you see? I need this. I need to…" She needed to what? Somehow she had to find a way to dull the pain that crippled her heart, and it was her crippled heart that told her Zare was the one who could do that. She wasn't going to let him ruin her chance. Her blood raced in her veins, singing a song of want all it's own, as she leaned forward and pulled his head down to her own. She had little experience in this area, but she'd seen plenty to take some initiative. She stroked his bottom lip lightly with her tongue.
With a quiet breath of air, Zare opened his mouth, accepting her offer, and returning the gesture. The warmth in Sari's body was flaring into something stronger, brighter…needier. Her hands moved to Zare's back, her nails pressing against his skin as sensations overwhelmed her.
She was still scared, but beyond the fear, something about being here with Zare felt so infinitely right.