First Lesson

I was tired. I stumbled twice on the way to my own wagons. Just done in by all accounts and ready to just stop .. stop moving ... stop thinking. I caught sight of the worthless pink near my fire and she was quickly stashing something out of the way. But it was nothing I felt any urge to investigate. It did not have that negative .. guilty feel to it.

She was lounging .. on some furs in a half kneel ... and she tossed a greeting to me across my fires. I crouched .. warming the chill from my hands .. letting the coals light the rough texture of my fingers ... the calluses and scars. Slowly I let my gaze drift to her .. cutting her from all else until my eyes found a tight and intent focus on her.

She finally asked if I was hungry.

huh

My reaction was swift .. without warning. I lunged from the crouch and my fist snaked out striking and jerking the hat from her head so I could lift her upwards by her hair only to use that energy to slam her body back into the ground barely missing the stones surrounding the fire. A cold fury vibrating through me.

She lay there .. many moments ... without word or movement other than to splay herself even more upon the cold ground. I waited .. but she offered me nothing .. so I hooked the toe of my boot into the curve of her shoulder and flipped her over to expose her features to my sharply expectant gaze.

Then she begged for my forgiveness .. even abandoning her identity and speaking third person to me. Ah .. if she only knew me she would not have made such a mistake. She finally curled herself into a more proper kneel before me as my lip curled revealing the white of one eyetooth and I asked .. for what? For what transgression was she begging forgiveness?

Warning

She however .. did not heed the warning and continued on .. telling me she was asking forgiveness for whatever she had done to displease me.

How simple. How easy. Had this actually worked for her in the past? Had she been able to pull out the "I am sorry" card and it just covered every circumstance imagined? Had she ever spoken to anyone more than once .. often enough that they realized that she was not aware of what she had done wrong the first time even though she apologized for it because she kept doing it? Did she believe I was so tired .. so distracted ... so stupid that I did not know she was offering me nothing of value at all?

I asked her .. what made her think that I would allow her to offer me a thing without weight or worth and not only allow it ... but give it value. That was a lot of work for someone who had not even done the wrong in the first place. I was far to lazy to do her work for her in this conversation.

She was obviously suffering great confusion .. which is not surprising for she was leaping far ahead to finish the conversation before it had even begun. She told me she was hoping to learn correctly .. that is why she begged.

huh

I reminded her she had asked for my forgiveness .. she had never asked me to teach her anything.

She said it was how she had been taught .. which was pathetic .. weak and I despised the words for their defensive posturing. I did not care if she had been taught to be stupid .. being stupid was not something I would forgive.

She did however finally beg me to teach her ... to teach her something different. Still irritated I asked her what she wanted to learn then .. as I continued to ponder her existence and how she had survived this long.

She said she wished to learn what she had done to displease me so it would never happen again. A good healthy sort of thing to wish .. in my opinion.

I told her to beg me .. to make me believe she really wanted it instead of treating me as if I were an equal ... as if I would gift these things out of the goodness of my nature ... speaking her wants to me instead of asking me. I do not do well with demands .. especially from a slave.

She finally let a little of herself show through the comfortable shroud she kept herself hidden within. A shroud meant to appear sheer and invisible. A shroud meant to give the impression of a wanton .. ready ... willing and humble slave when in reality it was nothing but surface rhetoric used to ply her will upon the unsuspecting and dull free.

And I say dull because anyone who let her get away with it had been kept within walls until their skull grew soft and allowed the rank fetid and stale air to seep into their brain.

The tears she shed on my boots .. leaving muddy little tracks in the dust ... were genuine. Not tears of manipulation or to attract attention. She caved with the feelings that were being sucked out of her at an alarming rate. I crouched to touch her hair and pull it away from her damp cheek. It was then I granted her the gift of knowing the reason behind my displeasure .. may she always remember that is a gift and not something that is due her.

I asked her why she greeted me like a pampered dweller slut on her pillows .. speaking to me across the fire as if I had come to her to seek an audience. Is not a slave meant for the will and whim of the free? Especially the man who owns her? Who owns the very life's blood coursing through her veins? Is it not her burden .. I would even say right ... to offer herself to him? Beg him to make use of her in any way he pleased?

She spoke to me of her training .. of her past. I told her something that I hope she remembers. I hope she applies it to her future as well as a lens to see her past in a better light.

I told her that those ways worked for her .. she was there with me ... alive. That those ways would continue to work for her in the future here .. yes even here there were those that were too busy or too tired or not concerned with the training of a slave enough to care whether or not she learned. She was capable of earning exactly what she had earned before .. but if her words were true .. if she sought something else ... something more .. than she would have to stretch herself to find it. To seek it. It would not come to her feet and beg her to know it. She would have to open herself up .. be vulnerable. Throw herself at it time and time again determined to understand it despite the bruising .. and if she survived ... she would indeed learn it.

Then she spoke her devotion to me. Which returned me to my state of irritation. I told her she did not know me .. to not speak words of such things she had no idea of. That I did not believe her.

And I bid her remember my words before I left her there alone ... still crying hot tears against the cold of the night.