The Little Fawn Slave
folder
Fantasy & Science Fiction › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
12,865
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Fantasy & Science Fiction › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
12,865
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Ch. 3 Arrival at the Mael Estate
Ch. 3
Sir Columba smiled down at Damhnait as he wrapped her in a hare-fur-lined cloak of supple light brown leather. The carriage of War Duke Mael’s gifts awaited them.
“Here is your perfume oil, your gems, rice powder, soaps, face paint, and some under garments,” Sir Columba explained as he gave a servant a medium chest.
Damhnait said nothing, only trembled under her cloak. Her still nude form, lacking the collar, rings, and bracelets that were now stored in the chest, was gently caressed by the brown fur.
“Be a good girl, and I’ll come see you soon,” Sir Columba smiled, kissing Damhnait’s forehead gently, and set her inside the carriage. The door shut with a click, leaving Damhnait in the quiet darkness among the other gifts.
Ceadda Mael’s estate as a multiply awarded general was just as large as any lord or duke in Caragay. A manor, built by Ceadda’s grand-father, sat in the center of the land, four stories high and built in the elegantly plain fashion many of the manors of its time were built in.
The gift carriage arrived at Mael Manor the next morning after driving through the Caragay north country. Damhnait awoke from a fitful sleep being jarred about with a full bladder and a partially numb body.
Ceadda’s servants rushed out and began to unload immediately. A stopped hag seemed to be the head of the household, directing the maids and lads as to where to send the fabric, the oils and spices, the candles and gold. When the hag laid eyes on Damhnait who stepped out of the carriage with all the bravery of a baby sparrow she flitted to her side and took hold of her arm, still glittering with gold dust.
“Shoulda known King Meirion would send a maiden with all this madness,” she grumbled, pulling Damhnait along towards the house. The girl stumbled behind her, her gold heels clicking and slipping on the stone path. “You’ll get right up to Master’s chambers before he gets here with your trunk and get all prettied up for him.” Inside the manor was warm and inviting but Damhnait could only enjoy a second of it before the hag began to drag her up the servant’s stairs, talking non stop.
Reaching the master’s chambers the Hag opened the door and, letting go of Damhnait, rushed to the maid tending the fire. “Hurry you stupid little girl, he’ll be here any minute!”
The chambers were made up of 4 rooms; the sitting room where the hag and maid argued, the bed chamber with a king size beg dressed in luxurious furs and fabrics, a bath with a royal marble tub, and a study where a oak desk was littered with the gifted deeds and certificates brought on the carriage. Damhnait knew that in that mess of papers was her certificate drawn up by the merchants that passed her around, Sir Columba, and the King’s advisors.
The hag, after harassing the maid into tears, returned her attention to Damhnait. Grabbing her arm she led the girl into the bedchamber and to a door off to the side, “These will be your rooms. They were Charles Mael’s concubine’s chambers before,” the hag explained, opening the door to a two roomed chamber.
The bedroom and bath were dressed in white and pink with newly picked cherry blossoms and peonies in crystal vases and floating in bowls of spring water. Damhnait, as upset and uncomfortable as she was, could not help but be impressed by the feminine beauty of the room. The teary maid brought in Damhnait’s chest and curtsied before hurrying out.
The hag gestured to another servant who brought in warm water for the marble washbowl so that Damhnait could freshen up. “You’ll want to hurry. I suspect Master Mael will be arriving shortly.” Closing the door behind Damhnait, the hag left the maiden alone and hurried to finish making sure the house was ready for her master’s arrival.
After using the chamber pot and washing up a little at the washbasin Damhnait looked in the tall silver mirror carved with roses and lilies. Not happy with what she saw, a slave dressed in gold and seduction instead the girl she had grown up as, she moved to the gilt chair next to the bed. A table with a drawer filled with parchment, blotting paper, and quills matched the chair and seemed prepared for any letters or notes she would ever want to make. The whole thing seemed silly and needless for a slave.
The clamoring outside her window heralded the arrival of Ceadda Mael.
Sir Columba smiled down at Damhnait as he wrapped her in a hare-fur-lined cloak of supple light brown leather. The carriage of War Duke Mael’s gifts awaited them.
“Here is your perfume oil, your gems, rice powder, soaps, face paint, and some under garments,” Sir Columba explained as he gave a servant a medium chest.
Damhnait said nothing, only trembled under her cloak. Her still nude form, lacking the collar, rings, and bracelets that were now stored in the chest, was gently caressed by the brown fur.
“Be a good girl, and I’ll come see you soon,” Sir Columba smiled, kissing Damhnait’s forehead gently, and set her inside the carriage. The door shut with a click, leaving Damhnait in the quiet darkness among the other gifts.
Ceadda Mael’s estate as a multiply awarded general was just as large as any lord or duke in Caragay. A manor, built by Ceadda’s grand-father, sat in the center of the land, four stories high and built in the elegantly plain fashion many of the manors of its time were built in.
The gift carriage arrived at Mael Manor the next morning after driving through the Caragay north country. Damhnait awoke from a fitful sleep being jarred about with a full bladder and a partially numb body.
Ceadda’s servants rushed out and began to unload immediately. A stopped hag seemed to be the head of the household, directing the maids and lads as to where to send the fabric, the oils and spices, the candles and gold. When the hag laid eyes on Damhnait who stepped out of the carriage with all the bravery of a baby sparrow she flitted to her side and took hold of her arm, still glittering with gold dust.
“Shoulda known King Meirion would send a maiden with all this madness,” she grumbled, pulling Damhnait along towards the house. The girl stumbled behind her, her gold heels clicking and slipping on the stone path. “You’ll get right up to Master’s chambers before he gets here with your trunk and get all prettied up for him.” Inside the manor was warm and inviting but Damhnait could only enjoy a second of it before the hag began to drag her up the servant’s stairs, talking non stop.
Reaching the master’s chambers the Hag opened the door and, letting go of Damhnait, rushed to the maid tending the fire. “Hurry you stupid little girl, he’ll be here any minute!”
The chambers were made up of 4 rooms; the sitting room where the hag and maid argued, the bed chamber with a king size beg dressed in luxurious furs and fabrics, a bath with a royal marble tub, and a study where a oak desk was littered with the gifted deeds and certificates brought on the carriage. Damhnait knew that in that mess of papers was her certificate drawn up by the merchants that passed her around, Sir Columba, and the King’s advisors.
The hag, after harassing the maid into tears, returned her attention to Damhnait. Grabbing her arm she led the girl into the bedchamber and to a door off to the side, “These will be your rooms. They were Charles Mael’s concubine’s chambers before,” the hag explained, opening the door to a two roomed chamber.
The bedroom and bath were dressed in white and pink with newly picked cherry blossoms and peonies in crystal vases and floating in bowls of spring water. Damhnait, as upset and uncomfortable as she was, could not help but be impressed by the feminine beauty of the room. The teary maid brought in Damhnait’s chest and curtsied before hurrying out.
The hag gestured to another servant who brought in warm water for the marble washbowl so that Damhnait could freshen up. “You’ll want to hurry. I suspect Master Mael will be arriving shortly.” Closing the door behind Damhnait, the hag left the maiden alone and hurried to finish making sure the house was ready for her master’s arrival.
After using the chamber pot and washing up a little at the washbasin Damhnait looked in the tall silver mirror carved with roses and lilies. Not happy with what she saw, a slave dressed in gold and seduction instead the girl she had grown up as, she moved to the gilt chair next to the bed. A table with a drawer filled with parchment, blotting paper, and quills matched the chair and seemed prepared for any letters or notes she would ever want to make. The whole thing seemed silly and needless for a slave.
The clamoring outside her window heralded the arrival of Ceadda Mael.