Soft embers of moon's rays glistened the scene of enchant, two figures of shadow twining benign that of nature's dance. Voices of sweet entranced the couple, a night of never to forget, music of iris harps stringing throughout the minds whilst light steps exceeded to contort on clouded grounds.
His face was unseen by her, yet the trust endured to him seemed enough. The twirls and swings of the dance softened to the slow romantic dance, his arms encircled about her slender waist, her digits teasing through his hair gently, lifting upward to collide into such an action forever emerging through the depths of sorrow bowered into the heart of such a youth.
Clashing to the sound of metal jerked Elle into a waking state, soft grunt of insatiable expression framing against the maw, thin pointed ears pressing against the cascading ashen trends whilst lifting arms in a tiring stretch. The young anthrop, indeed to be such a beauty, yet so frail, bore that of chains upon wrists and ankles, signifying her to be in slavery.
Darkness kept her eyes astray until a full mass of sunlight reached her eyes once the barn door opened, temporarily blinding her while a bucket was thrown in her direction from the knight whom was to wake the slaves. In a deep, careless voice, he hissed towards her, the only one in the barn, "It's your first day, the master shall be kind, but sleep in late anymore and expect lashes against your pretty flesh." Maw facing that of a cringe, Elle sighed softly to herself, lifting to her feet and forwarding soft padding of hind paws to fetch the water for the cattle.
A subtle laugh roared throughout the dining hall, Lord Alden and Lady Salenah finishing their breakfast. The voices dimmed, so the knights gathering by the door couldn't hear, but the muffled voices and chuckles of the two.
"Thank you, milady, for joining me on such a fine day for breakfast." Replying in a practiced tone of sweet in her voice, Salenah leaned somewhat closer.
"It would have been my pleasure to accompany you any day, Milord." Blinking while keeping the smile plastered onto his youthful face, the young Lord leaned back, lifting a hand to pat hers in friendly manner.
"All's adieu until we next meet, on the eve of the ball. Am I correct, Madame?" Looking somewhat unsatisfied by his reaction. Salenah forced a polite smile and dip of head in reply.
"Yes, Milord. May the angels be so kind as to have us meet." With saying so, she lifted the hem of her skirt, tip-toeing her light frame out the doors, the knights stifling to stand up straight from their huddle without causing a racket of noise, though a few couldn't help but to laugh.
Walking seemed distant in Elle's thoughts, merely taking a grasp of the tools to place by where the implements for the cattle lay. Not even half way there, her walking seeming slow as though dazed, the hand belonging to that of a knight clasped her shoulder, jerking her into a somewhat funny position, spilling everything she was carrying. Eyes shifting to become wide, a rather frightened glance was given to the knight, whom returned with a stern look, before leaping forward to grab everything once more.
The knight, bending over to laugh, brought a hand to her yet again, lifting her up, still rough, but a bit friendlier. "Ye are a new comer here, aren't ye? Well, the master wants to see ye." Blinking, Elle's shoulder tensed under his grasp, somewhat flushed under embarrassment. Nodding, she walked slowly, following the knight to the manor.
Taking a subtle sip from the goblet of wine Alden had grasped, he seemed to be in a pretty content position, sideways in the chair at the head of the room, though expression against demeanor brought a dull sensation etching into chiseled features.
Finding not one thing to settle gaze upon, pleasure found his eye when gazing at the fragile female entering the room, indeed right away obvious as a slave by her attire and lowered gaze. Though, seeing her face not before, he figured her to be of the new shipment, alas, was pleased. Nodding to Sir Antoine before dismissing him of escorting the woman, gestured for her to come closer.
A little hesitant, keeping sure to avoid any gaze to the others in the room, reluctance was visible in her step as she walked towards him. He flickered a gaze of arrogance towards those staring at her, mainly the ones emitting a snicker or glare, before leaning forward, lifting her chin, "Let me get a good look at you." Jerking helm away from his hand, her head lifted on her own, as his brow raised. He focused on her eyes -- Such cold, careless eyes; Bearing that of detestation and wither of care, sorrow he could see, and pride. But despite this, he said not a word.
He kept gaze upon her as he watched her inhale and exhale a deep breath before speaking, "I should obey your requests, Milord. But I will never be under your service." A smirk arising on his lips, a sudden thought of a challenge striking him. He heard the few gasps emitting the room, and to startle them once more, he did nothing.
He merely brought a finger to his lip in thought before replying in gentle tone, but holding authority, "Go to the kitchen." Simply bowing head, luckily for her, he barely missed her scowl, but saw a trace and smirk widened. As she walked out, his eyes followed her, a glaze of day dream past his eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips in replace of the smirk, dismissing the looks others gave him as he found himself thinking how royal she would look in a Lady's garb...
The same dream, that night, betwixt in the arms of her lover, Elle followed his movements as the music continued to play. Yet, there was a lingering to her knowing of the stranger she so trusted. The same dance, the same rhythm, the same passion of thrill to being entwined and hearing the harps behind. And as the first dream had led to, she expectedly leaned upward as his arms encircled to pull her closer. Before facial collided to result a kiss, she saw his face and gasped.