I pulled off your wings and I laughed

Siv Helsi · 09-03-2012, 04:22 PM

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Whoring was, to Siv’s knowledge, a profession as old as hunting. She had never, until visiting Freetown, experienced the exchange of a body for coin and found the practice somehow less satisfying that way. It took talent and skill to use one’s body—she saw it in every gesture and motion that Isabella made and admired her for it. There was power in sex and some, like her gypsy (dared she say it) friend, were among those who could court such powers. Concubines could become queens, if her lore served her right. Had she not, and did she not, use her sex for such archaic magics? Had she not lain with their King to show him the truth, even if it came with blinders?

Yet she could only do so much, and saving the girl from such a fate was something that came only as long as power remained in Siv’s hands. Power and manipulation kept her high above others, and her work with Salvia was now bound to pay off fruitfully as well…

Both ears turned and her head followed suit. The shift was obvious and apparent; Gale had found something to capture her attention. “You can weave?” She demanded, and then smiled so savagely that her eyes burnt like dark thunder clouds. “What a peculiar thing you are, my Lion,” Siv teased, and laughed lightly. “You may not need to fashion one. Another girl once wove here; I will see if her supplies remain.” Rowan had been stupid and pretty, but she was a master of the craft. Siv sorely missed her talent and was doubly thrilled to think that she might not only have one, but two hands capable of producing such goods. It would double her profit when paired with the leather, and now with those pretty goats Salvia had picked up...

Siv laughed again, almost to herself, and looked to the sky. “Þakka fyrir,” she called to the gods, and decided then to take what was left of her summer mead to the stone ship.

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