Jump to content
Sign in to follow this  
Azarion

The horse and his boy

Recommended Posts

October 74AD

Azarion had been a stable boy for the Whites for a few months now, and he was working harder than he'd ever worked since he became a slave. But this time, he wanted to. The horses were nothing like the pack and saddle animals his previous masters owned; they were hand picked and carefully bred, and while they were very different from the sturdy horses of the steppes he grew up with, they were a different kind of amazing. Azarion cared for the White's horses, made friends with all of them, and gave them Sarmatian names that no one knew about. In his free time he practiced some letters, but his reading and writing was still very far from smooth.

The teams were preparing for the races in a few days, but on this afternoon, the Circus was mostly empty. Some of the stable hands were walking and exercising the horses on the tracks, and some people were sitting on the spectator benches, watching. The Circus always seemed a lot larger when it was not full of people. Azarion walked around, leading  a lean white mare by her bridles. The people above him on the benches did not bother him much; most of them were fans of the races, while others just came to the Circus for the view, admiring the sight of the Palatine above them. 

The mare, whom he'd secretly named Borena, was being a little skittish today. She snorted and danced, jerking her head back and pulling on the bridles. Azarion made some soothing sounds, but she reared up anyway, pulling herself free, and galloping a few paces to the wall that divided spectators from the race course.

@Beauty

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

She had been to this area of Rome before, seeking safety within the Temple of Cymbele when trying to escape a “monster” of a man who’d been following her, the way a bear might when tracking its prey. That was when she met Clio, who’d brought her to a nearby shop with pretty hair ornaments. This time, however, she was a lot more cautious, not just making sure that she wouldn’t be stalked, apparently because she had “I’m an easy target” air about her, but from not becoming lost.

Running errands led her in the area again. She’d seen the Circus Maximus before but this time, as she had time to spare, her curiosity got the better of her. Nymphias had been in the spectator stands but wandered down to a door at the walls, leading into the race course, to simply linger and observe. It proved to be a daring, almost stupid idea once a horse came in her direction. Behind the animal was a boy about her age, an inch shorter. How adorable, she could just pinch his cheeks!

Nymphias panicked, retreating into the doorway until the horse slowed down and it was only then that she rushed to try and catch the reigns to help the boy.

“Here,” she said shyly to the boy, handing him the reigns. Her attention returned to the horse and wanted to stroke it but wasn’t sure if she was allowed. “He is very beautiful. You are lucky, you work here with animals. Not people.” She didn’t hate people, they just scared her. She pointed at the horse. “What is his name?”

@Chevi

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Borena bolted for a door that would have been too narrow for her to get through, and then danced back as she noticed a person in the doorway. Azarion let out a yell as he saw the blonde girl emerge right in the mare's path, but Borena, for all her fussiness, was a clever horse; she reared and retreated, snorting as she allowed the girl to catch the reins. 

Azarion ran over, walking around Borena to take the reins from the girl. She seemed shy, but thankfully not terrified. He gave her a look; for all her help with catching Borena, she should not have been down on the tracks. She did not work in the stables, and visitors were only allowed on special occasions.

“Here... He is very beautiful. You are lucky, you work here with animals. Not people.”

Azarion's eyes narrowed at Borena being called a 'he', but he could not really argue with the second part of her comment. Working with horses was much, much better than working with people. Although it was a tad surprising to hear someone like her say that out loud.

“What is his name?”

Azarion unceremoniously pointed at the hindquarters of the horse, signaling that she was not a he. Then he made some hand signs, using one hand to hold the reins; he did not expect her to understand him, but at least she'd see he was mute. What are you doing down here on the tracks, lady?

@Beauty

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

The boy pointed at the backside of the horse or rather, near to it. Smiling, Nymphias bent downwards but when she did, her smile disappeared. It felt strange to be looking at a horse there and had to apologise in her head. Worst of all, the boy probably thought she was an idiot. She straightened her back and her attention then returned to the boy, who was moving his hands about. Her brows furrowed, mostly because she didn’t know what he was doing at first before it slowly sank in.

The race course was unusual looking and the sun was bright, she hadn’t seen anything like it back in Britannia. She was accustomed only to her family’s small settlement and the vividly green nature that surrounded it. But she was more distracted by the horse. She preferred, smaller, gentler animals but horses had a majestic way about them and being both young and captivated, she wanted to be closer. Nymphias raised a hand above the horse’s neck, indicating that she wanted to pet the horse.

She is very pretty,” she said, embarrassed about her earlier comment still. “Can I touch?” She did not yet touch the horse, waiting for the boy’s approval, if one came. “I have not seen race yet, I hear it is unsafe. But horses maybe are worth seeing.”

@Chevi

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

She spoke broken Latin, which meant she was probably new to the city, and definitely new to the Circus. She dutifully inspected the back side of the horse, realizing her mistake; Azarion chuckled a little as she corrected herself. He wondered where she was from. Probably not from the steppes.

“She is very pretty. Can I touch?”

Azarion narrowed his eyes. Borena was not in the best mood, but she seemed to have calmed down once the girl caught her. He placed a hand on her heck, making some soothing noises, then, when he was fairly sure Borena would allow it, he nodded to the girl. The horse snorted, but didn't make a fuss.

“I have not seen race yet, I hear it is unsafe. But horses maybe are worth seeing.”

Unsafe indeed. Azarion scoffed. Not for the spectators, who loved the excitement, but definitely for the drivers and the horses. Once again, he wondered where she'd come from. He remembered arriving to Rome, and being overwhelmed by the city for the first time. He tapped the slave tablet around his neck, which, now that he knew his letters, noted his name, and also that he belonged to the White team. Then he pointed at her. Did she have a name? Who did she belong to?

@Beauty

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Some people seemed to speak well with horses, this boy was one of them. Nymphias’ hand still hovered over the horse nervously, cautious not to frighten the animal before her hand began to caress gently. Nymphias beamed brightly. With her attention returned to the boy, she watched as he tapped the tablet around his neck. He pointed at it and she watched him carefully, trying to pay attention. She knew very little of Latin letters and numbers, a lot of it was so confusing but she was aware of enough to make out some simple words, nothing beyond that, and all remembered by noticing similarities.

It took her a while to figure out what was said. “Az..azarion,” she said, repeating what she’d picked up but somehow she felt like she’d read it all wrong. “W…white horse?” She was still stroking the horse, she could feel her body heat radiating off against her and feel the softness of the fur on her fingertips. A pleasant change to scrubbing the floors of the kitchen. “Nymphias. I do work for Titus Scul-sculpius Rufus and family. They are good people.” She couldn’t say anything bad about the people she served. While she hated that she didn’t hate them the way she thought she should, saying anything bad was potentially costly.

“You don’t help family, only horses?” She was still learning how slavery worked to begin with and she wanted to learn quickly, knowing she was the type to drown very quickly. “And they like bad beasts, your domine or good like mine?”

@Chevi

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

“Az..azarion. W…white horse?”

Azarion was still not quite used to people calling him by his name. Before he learned to write, there was no way to communicate it, even if his previous masters gave a shit, which they didn't. The girl's pronunciation was not the best, but she did what she could. Apparently reading was not easy for her as well.

White horse, indeed. Azarion nodded at the flags decorating the race course. Green, blue, white, red. Four teams.

“Nymphias. I do work for Titus Scul-sculpius Rufus and family. They are good people.” 

Nymphias. That sounded... Greek? Roman? Hell if Azarion knew. She was probably not either, which meant her masters renamed her. He was glad none of the Whites had gotten around to that yet. He would have hated going around as a Marcus or something.

“You don’t help family, only horses? And they like bad beasts, your domine or good like mine?”

Azarion arched an eyebrow. Calm down, girl, no master is all that great. He shrugged. He liked working at the Circus. Much better than tending to someone's private stables.

Broena snorted again, and Azarion started walking, leading her on the tracks. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded to the girl to follow. At least she would not wander around alone, getting under foot. Reaching up for the reins, the FVG brand on his arm and some of his old scars became visible; as he turned, the deer tattoo on his calf probably showed as well. She could make of that whatever she liked.

Glancing back at her, he made some signs with his free hand. What was she? Gaul? Briton? He pointed at her, then made some motions that could have been weapons, or beards, or a ship on a sea. Where did she come from?

@Beauty

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Her eyes followed to where he was pointing, the flags hanging in the race course. Nymphias was proud that she had been able to read, though she knew her knowledge on such matters was very limited and was likely bound to make a mistake at some point. But he then indicated for her to follow and she did.

But it wasn’t long until she noticed the FVG brand and the scars. The tattoo was one thing but the scars and the brand was another, telling a completely other story that only caused Nymphias to part her lips in shock and to unceremoniously stare. Noticing that she was, she tried to hide it and quickly averted her gaze. She’d seen horrible things but horrible things never stopped surprising her and in that moment, she knew he was stronger than her.

Noticing him move from the corner of her eyes, she looked again and tried to make out what he was saying, still flustered from what she’d seen and also realising that Azarion was a mute perhaps because of the Romans. She forced a smile.

“No, I am not warrior, I am slave,” she said but the ship made her realise that he was maybe asking her where she was from. “Britannia. What about you?” She was curious about him, especially because he was around her own age. “And what is this for?” She pointed to her ankle, indicating his tattoo.

@Chevi

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

“No, I am not warrior, I am slave,”

Of course she was. Azarion scoffed as he used other hand signs, to make clearer what he was trying to say. They walked along the tracks, Borena dutifully keeping pace - now she was being docile, after the thing she pulled earlier. Azarion patter her neck. Nymphias finally got what he was asking.

“Britannia. What about you? And what is this for?”

Britannia. The newly conquered lad of promise in the North. No wonder she was new to the city. And no wonder she had that shining, unusual blonde hair. 

Azarion blinked. How was he supposed to explain Sarmatia to her?... He pointed towards the East, at the rising sun, and made a sweeping motion for the endless steppes; he patted the horse, and then made motions that mimicked shooting arrows. She would either recognize it, or she wouldn't, but it described the basics about his homeland.

He glanced down as she pointed at his tattoo. Sometimes he forgot it was there. It had been his first, the sign that he was a hunter. He looked up, miming the bow and arrows again, and making motions that let her know that she killed a deer. His first one.

@Beauty

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Nymphias followed his sweeping motion. Admittedly, it took a while for her to understand his answer, if she understood it at all in the end. He was gesturing towards the East, that much she knew. He was from somewhere East of Rome. Where exactly, Nymphias didn’t know. She’d grown up only knowing Britannia, a small, dreary place and hadn’t realised how big the world was, how much was actually out there apart from her little settlement, until she was taken from her home.

She tried to focus on his next motion so that she could understand him. “So you killed deer,” she said, repeating what he said back to him to confirm it and show she was listening. She wondered how many might have bothered with communicating with him, listening even, merely because he was a mute. It was a challenge to understand him but she knew her Latin wasn’t all that great and people probably struggled to piece together what she meant. But she felt pity, perhaps because of what she assumed had been done to him and seeing the scars had surely inspired it.

“I never hunted,” she explained. “I did sewing dresses.” Probably not interesting for a boy to hear though, she thought. “Is that why Romans choose for you to help with White Horse and not helping a family? Because you know animals a lot?” She supposed he might, he’d hunted before and so she assumed he knew how to deal with a wide array of beasts.

@Chevi

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

 “So you killed deer,”

Azarion gave a short nod. It was not really the full story, but he was not going to try to use hand signs to explain the significance of learning to hunt, or one's first kill. Or the whole story of sacred deer, and what it meant to his people. For now, at least she had an idea of what kind of a life he had before he became a slave.

“I never hunted. I did sewing dresses... Is that why Romans choose for you to help with White Horse and not helping a family? Because you know animals a lot?” 

Azarion nodded again, and patted Borena's neck. He was good with horses. Other animals... well, Rome did not have a big selection of those in the Circus, but they did have some dogs to guard the stables and some cats to keep the mice in check. Azarion liked animals of all kinds, but not the way he cared for the Whites' horses. 

He made some sewing motions, arching an eyebrow at her, then pointing at her slave tablet. Was that what she did now? Sew dresses for some rich fat Roman lady? At least that last part was not hard to explain with signs; Azarion smirked as he mimicked the matrons of Rome with their big hair and upturned noses.

@Beauty

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Noticing his sewing motions and then how he pointed at her, she understood enough to know what he meant. But before she could answer he began mimicking the women of Rome. Nymphias burst into laughter. It was likely the first time, in a long time, that she really laughed, especially to the point that tears formed at the edge of her eyes. Nymphias wiped them.

“You act like them so good,” she said honestly. “But I sew a little for domina and her babies.” One of the so-called babies was almost Nymphias’s age but she seemed much younger because her whole life was cushioned. “Roman men no better than women. The men ugly, stupid and crass.” Crass was a word she’d learned from Clio. “They walk like they have tree stump up their butt.” She straightened her back and held her wrist limply in front of her, scrunching up her face to look pompous, and began walking as if something was lodged up where the sun didn’t shine. But her joke didn’t last very long before she broke into laughter. “You are lucky, that is what I see every day. You just see them there.”

She pointed at where the audience sat. “And I saw Roman man who had bucket given to him when fingers dirty!” That Roman was nice, handsome even, but it was still bizarre to her.

@Chevi

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Nymphias found his acting funny. Azarion smirked as she burst into laughter; she had a nice laugh, probably rare, given her station. It was a good feeling to be able to make her laugh like that, especially without saying any words.

“You act like them so good. But I sew a little for domina and her babies.”

Sewing was a good skill for a slave to have. Azarion was learning that the best way to survive as a slave was to be able to do something useful. He was lucky someone finally noticed he was good with horses, or he probably would have been sent to the mines long ago. Nymphias was lucky she was good at making dresses for rich, snooty Roman women. 

“Roman men no better than women. The men ugly, stupid and crass. They walk like they have tree stump up their butt. You are lucky, that is what I see every day. You just see them there. And I saw Roman man who had bucket given to him when fingers dirty!”

It was Azarion's turn to laugh as she imitated Roman men, noting they had a tree up their ass. He had to agree, although he had encountered more types of men than women in his time in the city. She once again noted he was lucky with where his fate landed him. 

He made signs of agreement with an amused smile. Borena picked up pace as they walked along. Azairon pointed at the race tracks and the horse, then up at where the spectators usually sat, arching an eyebrow in question as he gestured at Nymphias. How much did she know about the races?

@Beauty

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

This was one of the reasons why Nymphias enjoyed communicating with fellow slaves, they understood how terrible and dumb the Romans were. The laugh was much needed, especially with all the tension, she felt on a daily basis, trying to navigate the world as a slave. It was all very foreign still, even if summer had long since passed. It was good to be around someone her own age, even if his scars were jarring at first. Now, she was growing used to it.

Nymphias’ eyes followed his hand, pointing to the race tracks, the horse, to where the spectators sat and then, lastly, to her. He was likely asking if she’d seen a race before, she thought. That had to be it. He couldn’t have been asking if she’d raced before.

“I have never seen one,” Nymphias admitted. Much of her time in Britannia had been spent cleaning, cooking and helping her siblings, wandering about Britannia’s very green world but since being in Rome, she didn’t have much free time as a slave. “I hear about them. I would love to see one. I hear gladiator games very dangerous. I don’t like those but maybe race better.” Not that she’d ever seen one but violence wasn’t on her list of things she enjoyed. “Do you race? Is this horse you use when racing?”

@Chevi

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

“I have never seen one. I hear about them. I would love to see one. I hear gladiator games very dangerous. I don’t like those but maybe race better.” 

The girl did not seem to be a connoisseur of the races, but Azarion was also not sure if she had heard about them. Some Romans who were enthusiastic about racing talked so much about it probably their entire household knew the Circus in and out, even if they had never been there. Nymphias, however, seemed to be new to the whole idea. Azarion smirked and chuckled when she said they were better than the gladiator games. Less dangerous. He clearly did not agree with her comment. But it was not her fault for not knowing. 

“Do you race? Is this horse you use when racing?”

He chuckled and shook his head again. He wished he could race. He would have been good at it too. It was tempting to tell her he was a charioteer, but it was no use trying to keep up a lie like that for long. He patted Borena and made motions that signaled taking care of the horse, doing menial tasks like sweeping and feeding. The he pointed across the tracks - now they had almost made a full lap - here some other slaves were dragging a chariot out into the sun for some repairs. Azarion pulled himself up to his full height, strutting around for a few steps, miming holding the reins and driving the chariot. Drivers were a different breed. Popular, strong, usually quite full of themselves. Especially the Reds.

@Beauty

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

The smell of horse might get old but taking care of horses seemed enjoyable. There was something enchanting about being around animals and in nature. It was why she much preferred Britannia to Rome where everything seemed “brick and mortar” except for the flourishing gardens. There, fountains seemed to sparkle like a million jewels. She was admittedly jealous of Azarion, especially the more she walked with him. Caring for horses seemed simple, a lot simpler than controlling an energetic toddler.

“You race?” said Nymphias, believing that’s what Azarion had said, even if he shook his head before. She had expected charioteers to be taller, perhaps more muscular and older. But then she realised, he might have meant the others were charioteers. She panicked a little, not wanting to misinterpret his meaning. “Or are they racing men?” She pointed at the slaves. They hardly looked the type, they looked beaten by life as most slaves did. It was in their eyes, the way they moved. She was the same in some ways, a slobbering mess on most days.

“Are racing men handsome? Are they mean, crass, pig-headed?” she asked, curious to know more about the charioteers.

@Chevi

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

“You race?... Or are they racing men?”

Apparently Nymphias did not quite catch his meaning the first time around. Azarion huffed, and shook his head again. He was definitely not a charioteer, and their were the slaves cleaning the chariot. That's why they had slaves at the stables. Someone had to do all the work that wasn't the life-threatening stampede around the race tracks.

Azarion wished he could be a charioteer.

“Are racing men handsome? Are they mean, crass, pig-headed?”

Those were a lot of questions. Azarion smirked at the last one. Like any slave working in the shadow of popular, famous, but not noble people, he also had a less than favorable opinion about the charioteers. Especially when they were not good at handling the horses. Creatures like Borena deserved a lot better than that. 

Looking around, Azarion spotted one of the charioteers walking out into the race tracks. Some people yelled his name, and he waved at the spectators with a bright smile. He was tall but lean; chariot drives had to be light, for speed, but strong enough to steer the horses. The man was quite handsome, and from the way he behaved (and the fact that he had come out for no other reason than to wave at some fans), he was well aware of it. Azarion huffed, and pointed in his direction, then rolled his eyes. A good example.

@Beauty

  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Bassus walked leisurely into the bright light and upon stepping out, he could hear his name being called. Now, he wasn’t as popular as Menelaus but he was a celebrity in his own right. A wave here, a wink there, and the crowd was just a little wild. A young woman shrieked at the top of her lungs at the stands, trying to catch his attention. Her poor throat, he thought, but blew a kiss in her direction nonetheless, just so she would not embarrass herself. Perhaps because he felt more gazes upon him, he turned his head to see Azarion and what he assumed to be a girl he was flirting with while on the job. He jerked a thumb’s up at them both. To greet the golden-haired girl but also to say “nice catch” to Azarion.  

 

  • Like 1
  • Haha 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

As if the gods knew she was asking questions about the charioteers, one came out and Azarion pointed at him. Nymphias watched the man in curiosity and amusement, he looked to be from the same place as Azarion. East. She hadn’t noticed Azarion’s eye roll because she was much too engrossed in the interactions between the man’s fans and the man himself. The man looked so old but to a girl her age, anyone above her siblings’ age were quite old. When he gave them a thumb’s up, Nymphias gasped in shock. He noticed her! He had looked at her!

Nymphias, as if spellbound, grabbed Azarion by the arm and shook him. “Did you see that?” said Nymphias, who had no idea who the man was. She’d seen spectators calling out his name like he was important and that was enough to tell her that she should be excited, especially when a young woman had shrieked like a cat in heat. “He notice me!” The man had gestured to the both of them, now no longer paying attention to them, but Nymphias was starstruck without even knowing what was going on. “Maybe when you that old, you do that too? Now I tell everyone I meet charioteer. It is good thing I meet you and we are friends.” Everyone nice she met was a friend.

@Chevi

  • Like 1
  • Haha 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Of course Bassus had to pick just this moment to strut out into the sunshine and make a spectacle. Azarion rolled his eyes, but no one was paying attention to him anymore. Bassus turned to look in their direction, and made a gesture which was probably meant to be friendly, but all it succeeded at doing was get Nymphias excited.

“Did you see that? He notice me!”

Of for fuck's sake. What was it with women and charioteers?

“Maybe when you that old, you do that too? Now I tell everyone I meet charioteer. It is good thing I meet you and we are friends.” 

Go die in a fire, Bassus.

Azarion huffed at the girl's excitement. Maybe he would have to become a charioteer himself. If only someone agreed to teach him... 

As much as the wailing from the spectators annoyed Azarion, it definitely spooked Borena. The mare snorted, dancing sideways, jerking on the reins as she flipped her head from one side to the other. Azarion tried to soothe her, but she worked herself into a fit, kicking at the sand with her front hoof.

@Beauty

  • Like 1
  • Haha 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

With the horse frightened and alarmed, it caught Nymphias off guard, startling her in the process. Since becoming a slave, she became afraid very easily. Every shadow dancing in the night as the moon came in through the window, sudden movement in the crowd or loud noise, snapped Nymphias back to how she felt the day she had been rushing through her village, mayhem, screams and violence surrounding her. She had been all alone then, so young and helpless too.

The sudden fit made Nymphias try to step back from the horse was, to be honest, a lot larger than Nymphias. A lot larger and weighed a lot more, enough pounds to crush her skull and bones. As she tried to back up before the horse harmed her, when really the animal probably wouldn’t have, she somehow managed to trip over her own feet, landing on her bottom and then her back.

Her first thought was, really, nothing at all. She’d just gotten the wind tripped out of her and her next thought was along the lines of: Did the charioteer see? Did Azarion now think she was an idiot? If he did, she couldn’t disagree.

“Shit, fuck, cunt!” said Nymphias. She’d just learned those words but they felt damn appropriate just about now.

@Chevi

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Borena danced and whinnied. Of course the prissy lady of a horse would choose this moment to act up. Nymphias backed away, visibly scared, which in turn spooked Borena more. Azarion would have sworn out loud if he could have, but Nymphias was doing an excellent job of that all by herself, sitting on the ground.

“Shit, fuck, cunt!”

That was impressive, for someone just learning Latin.

Azarion huffed, trying to calm Borena without pulling too much on the reins, but she was not having any of it. Finally, for lack of a better option, Azarion pulled himself up in one swift motion, straddling the horse and pulling the reins to turn her away from where Nymphias was sitting on the ground. Riding a horse was second nature - firs, really - for the Sarmatian boy, even if he was used to smaller steeds. Borena, surprised by the weight of someone on her back, walked in a small circle, but finally seemed to get the idea that Azarion was in charge, steering her as much with his legs as with the reins.

@Beauty

  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Bassus had been in the middle of conversation with his fans, arms folded, laughing, seemingly soaking in all the praise and trying to ignore the young woman throwing herself at him by annoyingly interjecting the discussions he had with some of the others, even if he politely regarded her every now and again. And he got annoyed when some mentioned Menelaus. At the mention of Menelaus, some began to scream harder, slightly more than they had when Bassus made his entrance but not before long the people before him gasped, pointed and began to make more noise.

Bassus turned to see the mare Azarion had been holding becoming jumpy and the young girl with him fall down flat on her bottom. Bassus extended a hand to the fans as if saying “wait, I’ll be back” before rushing on over to see if he could lessen whatever damage there was. He placed a hand on the girl’s back and held her hand to pull her up gently. “On your feet, little lady,” he said gently. “Are you all right?” She nodded, lips white and shut, clearly nervous. “Not hurt anywhere?” She shook her head, staring up at him dumbly. Beneath his touch, he could feel her shaking. He let go of the girl.

He turned to Azarion, evidently impressed with the boy’s skill and quick thinking even if his words showed something different. “This is what happens when you flirt on the job, Azarion,” he said sternly. A swift scolding, he wouldn’t say more than that. He wasn’t the boy’s father. “You should put her back in the stables, I think she’s had enough for today, wouldn’t you say? We’ll talk later about this. You can join him.” He nodded to the girl, her falling down was punishment enough for walking where she wasn’t supposed to.

@Chevi + myself 🤣

  • Haha 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Borena snorted, but calmed down as Azarion used his weight and his balance to steer her in an elegant circle. It was hard to calm a horse down by pulling on reins and making sounds, but they understood body language and touch very well. Bassus hurried over, busying himself with saving the damsel.

“On your feet, little lady. Are you all right? Not hurt anywhere?” 

Nymphias was living the dream. The women back at the seats must have been green with envy for all the attention he was spending on the blonde slave girl. Some of them would have willingly thrown themselves on the race tracks to get that kind of attention from Bassus.

“This is what happens when you flirt on the job, Azarion. You should put her back in the stables, I think she’s had enough for today, wouldn’t you say? We’ll talk later about this. You can join him.”

If you were half as good with horses as you were at flirting, maybe you'd win a race every once in a while, you rat bastard.

Sometimes Azarion was truly lucky his tongue had been cut out. 

Sliding off Borena's back he took the reins again, willfully ignoring Bassus as he headed to the stables. Nymphias could follow if she wanted to.

@Beauty

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

She had been on the ground, seeing the side of the horse and Azarion on top of it, until the charioteer from earlier lifted her up, speaking to her. Her reaction to him was as emotional as a tree stump, from falling and the man holding her, she became a little shy and awkward. What came next sounded almost like scolding. Flirting? Where’d he get that idea? Nymphias’ cheeks turned red and her brows creased. She couldn’t flirt to save her life. Embarrassed, she followed Azarion quietly. The man’s arms were folded and he watched them, eyes boring into the back of their heads. If anything made her feel like a child, it was this.

“He seem really angry,” said Nymphias awkwardly when they were a considerable distance away, her motions stiff from her nerves getting the better of her. The charioteer didn’t seem the angriest but it still made Nymphias nervous for Azarion nonetheless. What would the charioteer say? What would he do to him? “He won’t… hit you? If he does, I will hit him.” She couldn’t even hurt a fly and her going against anyone of a higher station than herself was a laugh. She’d faint within two seconds. “But you were very brave person for going on top horse. You are braver than Romans.”

@Chevi

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
Sign in to follow this  

×
×
  • Create New...