Ballad Of Saymon
folder
Fantasy & Science Fiction › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
2,434
Reviews:
11
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Fantasy & Science Fiction › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
2,434
Reviews:
11
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is an original ficition. All characters and locations belong to the author and cannot be used outside of the story without the author's permission. These are purely fictional characters, and have no resemblance to real people, living or d
Sylain
A short update but an update all the same. Hope you all enjoy!
She had a small, well defined face at the top of a long neck. Her hair was tied back and hidden under a red scarf, her shoulders were broad and bony. The lips of the little face were round and pink, set against dark brown skin and pale green eyes. The cheekbones were sharp and the nose was board.
Lila wondered, as she looked up at this woman, if she was pretty or not. She sat up, stretching her feet to the floor, in an effort to remove herself from what must have been this woman’s bed.
The woman held out a hand before Lila could stand. The slave stopped and listened as the woman spoke with a voice heavy in pitch and femininity.
“Lay down, honey. You got nowhere to be just now.”
Lila looked at the woman for a moment, confused and groggy. The voice told her to sit the bed this time, and she obeyed, keeping her eyes on the woman. She turned to get something from behind her, and Lila’s nose told her what it was before her eyes could.
In the woman’s knuckly hands was a tray holding a bowl of thick brownish stew and a loaf of bread. Lila had to roll her fingers into fists to keep from snatching the thing. The woman put the tray down beside her and looked at Lila with a honest smile. With one hand she gestured for her to eat.
She attacked the stew with a passion, drinking it down so quickly that she lost most of the taste to the broth’s heat. Any scraps of meat or vegetable were gnawed on as long as she could be bothered to chew them, then washed down with more hot broth. When the bowl was clean of most of its contents Lila tore into the bread, scraping at the bowl even after the remains of the stew were long gone.
Lila lay back, feeling warm and full for the first time in days. She wanted to curl up a sleep more than anything now, but the woman beside her stood and ushered her into her chair. The woman poured Lila a drink of water from the pitcher on the table from which the food had come, and talked while Lila drank.
“I’m Sylain,” she started.
“Saylaan?” Lila tried her name.
“No, See-laan. Anyway, I run things in the house,” as she spoke she collected sheets and blankets from the trunk at the foot of Lila’s bed. Lila stood to help her, but Sylain pushed her back into her seat. “You rest, I can handle making a bed.” She laughed and Lila realized she liked this woman.
“While you recover I’ll be by to look after you, honey. If you need something, you can ask when I check on you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sylain stopped, a clean white blanket in her hands. She looked at Lila, then laughed again.
“None of that, honey. Call me Sylain.”
“Y-yes, Sylain.” Lila squirmed, trying to make the name sound as respectful as possible.
“Good,” the woman went back to her work. “You’re Lila, right?”
“Yes, Sylain.” Lila tried not wonder how Sylain had learned her name.
“Good. Well, c’mon,” Sylain held out a hand to pull Lila up, and then helped her into the bed. Lila felt odd being fussed over, even just being helped. She tried to think of a word for this ‘Sylain.’
“Now, honey, get some sleep.” Sylain patted her head and went to the door and out of it.
Lila, laying there warm and sleepy, curled into herself and forgot to think as she dreamed of a bright city full of kind people and flowers.
She had a small, well defined face at the top of a long neck. Her hair was tied back and hidden under a red scarf, her shoulders were broad and bony. The lips of the little face were round and pink, set against dark brown skin and pale green eyes. The cheekbones were sharp and the nose was board.
Lila wondered, as she looked up at this woman, if she was pretty or not. She sat up, stretching her feet to the floor, in an effort to remove herself from what must have been this woman’s bed.
The woman held out a hand before Lila could stand. The slave stopped and listened as the woman spoke with a voice heavy in pitch and femininity.
“Lay down, honey. You got nowhere to be just now.”
Lila looked at the woman for a moment, confused and groggy. The voice told her to sit the bed this time, and she obeyed, keeping her eyes on the woman. She turned to get something from behind her, and Lila’s nose told her what it was before her eyes could.
In the woman’s knuckly hands was a tray holding a bowl of thick brownish stew and a loaf of bread. Lila had to roll her fingers into fists to keep from snatching the thing. The woman put the tray down beside her and looked at Lila with a honest smile. With one hand she gestured for her to eat.
She attacked the stew with a passion, drinking it down so quickly that she lost most of the taste to the broth’s heat. Any scraps of meat or vegetable were gnawed on as long as she could be bothered to chew them, then washed down with more hot broth. When the bowl was clean of most of its contents Lila tore into the bread, scraping at the bowl even after the remains of the stew were long gone.
Lila lay back, feeling warm and full for the first time in days. She wanted to curl up a sleep more than anything now, but the woman beside her stood and ushered her into her chair. The woman poured Lila a drink of water from the pitcher on the table from which the food had come, and talked while Lila drank.
“I’m Sylain,” she started.
“Saylaan?” Lila tried her name.
“No, See-laan. Anyway, I run things in the house,” as she spoke she collected sheets and blankets from the trunk at the foot of Lila’s bed. Lila stood to help her, but Sylain pushed her back into her seat. “You rest, I can handle making a bed.” She laughed and Lila realized she liked this woman.
“While you recover I’ll be by to look after you, honey. If you need something, you can ask when I check on you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sylain stopped, a clean white blanket in her hands. She looked at Lila, then laughed again.
“None of that, honey. Call me Sylain.”
“Y-yes, Sylain.” Lila squirmed, trying to make the name sound as respectful as possible.
“Good,” the woman went back to her work. “You’re Lila, right?”
“Yes, Sylain.” Lila tried not wonder how Sylain had learned her name.
“Good. Well, c’mon,” Sylain held out a hand to pull Lila up, and then helped her into the bed. Lila felt odd being fussed over, even just being helped. She tried to think of a word for this ‘Sylain.’
“Now, honey, get some sleep.” Sylain patted her head and went to the door and out of it.
Lila, laying there warm and sleepy, curled into herself and forgot to think as she dreamed of a bright city full of kind people and flowers.