Slave Chappie3

Taking a deep breath, Pansy leaned forward and tried to concentrate, a frown settling on her brow as she struggled with the words on the paper. Reading was such a chore. Like ciphering and scribing, reading was genially too tiresome to pursuit. After all, one could hire someone trained in the menial tasks. Unfortunately, if one wanted to keep things private, then sacrifices must be made.

Why did Draco use such long words? Slowly, painstakingly, she sounded out each syllable. After several attempts, she understood the message. ENGLAND! That godforsaken isle? If only he had died, she would never have to leave her beloved Normandy.

She paced the room, formulating her reply. Then, thoughtfully, she reformed her acceptance into four small words she could spell. I wil come soon. (A/N: I know will is spelled with two 'L') She blew on the ink to make it dry faster then smiled at her work. She would not cross the channel until the last possible moment. With the curt missive written, she placed it aside and thought of the fun she would have visiting her friends before her exile.

"Morgan!" Pansy bellowed for her maid. The young girl ran into the room, looking like a scared rabbit. "Pack on bags. And mind that you do a good job or I will have you whipped."

There were so many important families to bid farewell to. It could take months. The serving girl moved in frenzy. Her obvious fear brought a smile to Pansy face. She enjoyed her station and the power it held. England. No doubt the serfs there would be worse then here. The thought was appalling. She was going to live among savages.

Pansy boxed Morgan's ears. "How many times do I have to tell you to fold the tunic in thirds, not halves?" Tears glistened in the young maids eyes. "Do not rouse my ire again," Pansy said, indifferent to the servant's weeps, but vowing that if one teardrop stained her clothes that girl would rue the day she was born.

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Ginny kept her eyes averted from the sleeping pallet. Curiosity ate at her restraint, but she would not tempt fate and look at the Norman. His snores continued to full the air and Ginny poured water into a basin without alarm to the noise she was making. Then she placed the flagon of ale next to it and looked around for the goblets.

"Are you looking for these?"

The goblets were shoved before her eyes and her gaze skittered from the hand that held them up the arm to the shoulder and finally the face. He was awake and fully dress and she had not heard a sound! She glanced at the bad. The mound remained unchanged, but now the snoring sound came from the figure before her.

"You were awake the whole time?"

"Oui. A warrior does not sleep so soundly that an enemy can approach and place a sword in his gullet."

She inhaled slowly to calm her apprehension. "I have brought you warm water to wash and ale to easy your thirst."

"Such a thoughtful slave. Where were you last night? I had a need that was not met." Her face buried from the question and she tried to turn away and slip to the door. His massive hand seized her shoulder. "You will never make it."

Frustration and anger filled her. "I an not afraid of you."

A smile actually creased on his lips. "I noticed that. But, from now on, you had better fear me. I want your clothing brought in here. This is where you will reside. Do I make myself clear?"

Ginny nodded, "I will bring my clothes."

"Nevra, I seem to remember warning you that if I had to looking for you, there would be consequences."

Ginny stared at him. Hostility and loathing filled her gaze and she didn't bother to concern her hatred. "If it pleases you to beat me over this, then I will speak my mind and tell you that I would rather be beaten than share your weight in bed."

"It is fortunate that I do not take you at your word. I tell you true, maiden, you try my patience to the limit."

Ginny looked at him curiously. Although women ruled this demesne, she knew that elsewhere things were difficult. And she was mindful of the beatings and punishments woemn frequently incurred at the hands of their husbands, let alone their masters and lords. She was suprised he had not already retaliated.

"What will you do when you lose you patience?"

"You question me? Do you have any instinct for self-preservation?"

"I must know what manner of man rules my land and people."

"Your land and people?"

"Aye, they look to me and I am responsible for them."

"Now anymore," he said with finality.

"I am responsible for them. If I were not, I would have left last night, not hidden."

"Which bring us around to the topic. Where were you last night?

Ginny swallowed the lump of fear. "It does not matter."

"You asked what I would do when you pushed me beyond my limits." His gaze narrowed and seemed to bore into her. "If my question remains unanswered, you will find out."

Ginny took a step back. She felt trapped. An inner voice told her- tell him, you can find a new hiding place tonight. "The tower. I spent the night in the tower and until you lust waned and it was safe to return."

"Safe to return?"

"Aye, safe. The sun has risen," she said and at the his puzzled expression, expanded, "You will not be abed where there is work to be done. Besides, 'tis daytime. Surely you could not want--that, in the daytime."

The Norman stared at her, blinked, and then stared again as though he did not believe the sight before him. Laugh lines crinkled from his eyes, and he covered his mouth trying to clear his throat.

She hastened to pour him a goblet of ale. "Here, drink this," Ginny instructed. Though he did as told, Ginny noticed an expression of humor in his gaze but she did not comment on it. She was at enough of a disadvantage without showing her ignorance.

"You are right about one thing, chérie," he said finally, handing her the goblet. "I have a very busy day ahead of me." He smiled, showing bright white teeth, and the expression lit up his eyes. Leaning forward, he brush his knuckles across her cheek. She felt a rush to her toes. A deep sigh passed his lips as he pulled away. "Work must be seen to first." With obvious regret, he withdrew his hand, turned and left.

Ginny felt warm all over. The man was truly handsome. For a Norman.