3

As Malakaie walked down the short corridor to the laundry house he smiled to himself. 'That cook was something else.'

Him.

Do laundry.

An awkward smile turned his lips. He may have been brought into slavery to do field work and pleasure rolls, but he had never been so demeaned as to do laundry.

The only reason he kind of agreed to what Cook said was because he wanted some time to talk with Ares. He had no intention of actually carrying out the chore.

Finally, he arrived at the Laundry House door and knocked on it quickly. He composed himself and stood, waiting patiently.

No one came to the door.

He rapped on it again andfixed his expression to appear neutral, though he couldn't help by raise his eyes brow as his knock went unanswered for a few moments.

He heard a soft growl from inside the room before he was about to knock again. Finally, the door opened a little and he was met with an exhausted, aggravated-looking witch.

"What- Oh! Malakaie. Good!" She threw the door open. "You can help me with this laundry!" Her tone was a hopeful excited combination as she grabbed Malakaie's arm and practically threw him into the room before he even had a chance to protest.

"I'm the only one in here this morning and for some reason, all of the guests want their laundry done today." Ares explained, holding her arms and hands out in a gesture ofharried annoyance.

She gave a brief smile to him before she turned around and continued washing a shirt in a large wash barrel.

Malakaie sort of stood there, flabbergasted. He looked around the room rigidly and forced himself to stand straight. There were a few mounds of clothing by the door. Next to them were the shadowed forms of two more wash barrels full of water. Scrub brushes and drying racks hung all over the walls, along with several wash boards. Near the wash barrel Ares worked at, Malakaie noted a shelf full of herb jars and sewing kits.

Ares looked over her shoulder and noticed he wasn't working.

"What are you just standing there for? Roll up your sleeves and dig in."

Hearing the tone in her voice, Malakaie snapped to attention and took his jacket off, placing it on a chair next to a table in the middle of the room. Then he unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and rolled them over his elbows and walked over to Ares' barrel. Pulling out a washing board, he quickly found a tunic in need of a good scrub down.

To hell with his no-laundry streak.

4

"Did you sleep well, Prince?" Ares asked politely after about fifteen minutes of what was strained silence for Malakaie. He was just about done scrubbing the material (literally)off of the shirt. Ares pretended not to notice.

"Hmm?" he asked, a little distracted by the shirt. "Sleep." Ares said again.

"Oh, yes." he looked up from his work and watched Ares professionally scrub the stain out of a pair of trousers. "It was a lovely moon last night." And he turned back to the shirt with more or less material.

Ares paused when he said that, her shoulders slumping a little. Then she stood up and walked over to the clothes line by the back of the hut.

She had seen the moon. And it was lovely, indeed. It was just she was forced to watch it into the early hours of the morning because of her body's discomfort.

As she clipped the trousers on the clothes line to dry, a barrage of cramps racked her abdomen and she let out a slight hiss as she gently placed her hand over her stomach. The hiss caught Malakaie's attention and he dropped the shirt back into the barrel as he looked over and stood up.

"Ares, are you alright?" he asked, with a slight stern tone in his voice. He walked over to her, stopping a good four feet away. The scent of Moon's Blood was strong enough for him to faintly detect. Perhaps that was what put that edge in his voice.

The girl glanced at him when he had asked if she was alright. She didn't like that edge she caught.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just some cramps." She took a small breath and waved her hand in dismissal as she began walking back to the barrel again.

When she came up to Malakaie's side, he turned and gently put his hand on her arm. "Are you sure, Lady?" he worked to keep his tone even this time. He knew when he spoke before it had thrown the girl off.

Ares looked up at him and smiled, saying, "I'm positive. I just...my stomach is just a little upset. That's all."

He knew she was lying. Lying straight through her teeth. And it made him aggravated that she didn't trust him to tell him she was in her weakened state.

However, he didn't argue what she said, and didn't badger her about it. He just dropped his arm, and waited for her to pass before turning and walking back to the barrel as well.

Ares had picked up another garment and had began to scrub that as well, when she noticed Malakaie was having trouble getting the stain out of a table cloth. She draped her garment on the wash board and with a slight laugh moved over to Malakaie's side of the barrel.

"You're doing it wrong." she said with a laugh. A broad smile was on her face as she pulled the cloth up and massaged soap into the material with her fingers. Then she had to move closer to the man to scrub it on the wash board he used.

Malakaie watched as she expertly managed to rub most of the wine stain out and keep the material in tact.

"Here," she said as she grabbed his arm and put the cloth into his hand. "You have to use your fingers. And make sure you get a lot of soap into it, or else it won't come out." Then she took his other hand and began to move his finger on the material the way she had done.

And in all of this, Malakaie was distracted. Being so close to her, he could smell her full psychic scent and felt her feminine power wash through his arms when she touched them. He savored the whole experience, reveling in the clean, cold force that her touch brought.

"Now you do it by yourself." she said cheerily. Malakaie snapped out of his inner self just in time to hear her say that, and concentrated on what he had seen her do.

He managed to pull it off. He actually managed to clean the cloth with out destroying the thread count. A slight grin parted his lips as he looked at it, and then to the girl.

She had a proud smile as she watched him. "Wonderful job, Malakaie."

He loved it when she smiled. He made his mind up about that right then. But before he managed to make her feel uncomfortable with all of the smiling, he decided to say something.

"So that's all you do?"

"Yep. Just make sure to rinse it out really well before drying it."

"What? Like this?" he crumpled the cloth into a ball and submerged it under water. He knew he was doing it wrong, but he wanted an excuse to have her near him again.

With an exasperated sigh, she marched back over to where he was and submerged her arms into the water to stop him.

"No! No!" she tried to sound forceful, but couldn't help laughing at the end. She pulled the cloth from the water and undid its crumpled mess, with Malakaie still holding onto a portion of it.

"You're killing it!" she giggled as they played a sort of tug-of-war with the material. The two struggled to free it from the other- Malakaie actually chuckling from the fight she was putting up.

When he pulled the cloth towards him, forgetting his own strength, Ares was flung forward with it. She fell onto his side, laughing from it all. Then she took a breath and rested a bit, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Malakaie turned his head to look down on her and gave a weak smile. When she turned her head upward, she began to smile as well.

At that moment, Malakaie felt this urge like he had never felt before. His heart started beating faster and he felt some of the blood rush from his head. He went to say something, but the breath caught in his lungs.

"Can I just take a break on you?" Ares asked, a little breathless. Malakaie managed to nod his head twice. She responded by leaning into him, and just relaxing next to him on the floor.

He didn't know what to say or do. For the first time in his life as a slave, he didn't know what to do. May the Darkness be merciful.

He felt the girl's head shift a little on his shoulder and he, having regained a little composure, looked down to where her gaze had settled. His arms. So he raised his left arm towards her and asked, "Yes?"

Ares seized his wrist and began to trace the design of the serpent.

"Where did you get these?" she asked softly, as if she were about to fall asleep.

Malakaie studied his arm for a moment, recollecting the events that lead to the designs being burned onto his skin. He frowned at that as he brushed his fingers over the serpent.

Then he moved his hand gently, and clasped the girl's between both of his hands. He kept his gaze fixed on the distance.

"That story, Lady," he said in a solemn tone, "is better suited for another day."

I LLLLLIIIVVVVVVEEEEE!

I am sorry. I neglected you wonderful legions again.

and then i go and try to make it up to you with that pissant filler chapter that was inexcusibly short, even for me.

so here i am, your admiral, rewarding you for your faith and willingness to read my jumbled rubbish with a fun almost fluff chapter of friggin' excitement.

"Man, it's like my POOL is tearin' ass in the backyard."

So yes. Malakaie learned a few things today.

1: He now figured out how to successfully ruin a shirt

2: He also now knows the proper way to clean said shirt

3: He likes Ares A LOT

4: (not reli him but you) Now know that he is AWESOME.

I loove him and Valcan. Out of all the male characters that will be introduced,it's them two that i love. like the rabbit from Monty Python.

yes. so

ps. should i do Metallica as my concentration theme in Ap art or Family Portraits?

Please let me know

"Let me know... if you see a Radio Shack."

until the later, mes Legionaires.

Your ambiguously wonderful Admiral