Prompt ---incomplete writing sprint Part two
So this is another piece of the sprint from last week. I am still not sure about any of the particulars of the world. So this was written in 30 minutes yesterday, and I proofed it to the best of my ability today. Keep in mind since I had a time limit it does end rather abruptly. It also begins exactly where the prior installment left off.
Untitled Sprint:
He felt odd beneath her fingers, like truth. He stood still under her fingers as if uncertain of the purpose of her touch. His eyes darted to hers the expression on his face caught somewhere between curiosity and surprise. Adora glanced down at the place where her fingers crossed his strange serpent like skin, but could fathom no reason for the look upon his face. His skin was different to be sure, but it was hardly something to fear.
After the day she had, he was the least of her fears. She felt no deception in his words. No lie in his promise not to hurt her, though words could be easily twisted, truth as she saw it was harder to emulate. Pretense could be and often was artfully applied. People wore masks, and their voices lied with the sweetest of tones. His voice had held nothing but the truth, so much so that it seeped from the pores of his skin and tingled along the curves of her fingers.
He drew back slowly as if he feared frightening her in some way. His gaze moved over her once more, curious and calculating, but he did not speak.
He glanced toward the door, then back at her. He moved over to the fire place that took up much of the space on the wall at the foot of the bed. Curious she followed. He bent down and placed pieces of wood onto the empty space inside. The stone was pristine, without the marks that indicated it had ever before been lit. He glanced at her over his shoulder.
“Do you know how to start this?”
He meant nothing by the words, Adora knew, yes the daughter of an impoverished noble knew well how to start a fire. She also knew how to cook, and clean and how to mend her own clothing, her stitches neat and even.
“I do.”
He moved aside, and Adora realized he meant to test the truthfulness of her statement. She chuckled, and grabbed a few smaller pieces of kindling from the basket by the fire place. She turned toward the fireplace and rearranged the wood piled he created. She grabbed the box of matches and quickly set one ablaze.
The dry wood caught easily and in moments small greedy flames licked along the understood of the wood. She glanced from him to the fire the self-satisfied half smile on his lips confusing her.
“Very good, it pleases me that you are apparently a woman of your word.” Confusion stole over her, how was her willingness to admit she knew how to do a common task was proof of her honesty?
“I will leave you to settle in. You should find everything you need within this room, if by some chance, I have overlooked something. You will let me know. I’ll not have you depressed over the want of something that can be easily procured. “Dinner will be in two hours. I expect that you will join me.”
“Am I also to cook?”
“Not this evening”
He opened the huge door and slipped from the room, it slide closed taking him from her sight, and she stared at it for a moment in confusion. There were no others in the castle that she’d seen. No another living soul in all this space, the idea seemed preposterous, but still she’d seen no one.
The room was wonderful. It seemed as if it had been plucked from that space inside her head where dreams lived, only to be set down in the middle of the nightmare her world had become. Sold, bought, purchased, and at the mercy of a man who was not a man, and Adora wasn’t sure what that made her. She was a victim of fickle fate, but she would not be so easily dismissed and shut away. At least he’d not locked her in a dungeon.
The place reeked of magic. She’d felt it when she’d crossed the threshold and that magic tugged at the self-same that lived so quietly and unassumingly within her. She shivered, did he know? Was that way he’d out bid them to such an extent? The jeers that had followed her purchase by the Dark Lord from the North had set her hair on end, and her heart to racing with fear. It wasn't until he came close enough to sense that she’d realized he meant her no harm. Though she had no idea why he would want her if not to warm his bed.
Not that she was disappointed, he seemed to lean in another direction, but some people took pleasure in hurting those who had foolishly given their trust, found the taste of fear laced with betrayal sweeter than the succulent taste of fear alone. Was he luring her into a false sense of safety? Would his true volatile colors reveal themselves later? The slavers certainly felt bad for her.
So far, she could not shake the feeling that she had gotten a far better deal than the others who had been purchased that day. The room was extraordinary and moving toward an open archway, she began to explore the space that was now hers.
The room was beautiful, and as she imagined better suited for a lady than a servant, but then maybe that was what he desired a lady, a companion, someone to cook, and clean and be with. The thought didn’t terrify her as it should have. The far wall was covered by a huge tapestry and curious she examined the scene. The artist must have taken months, perhaps years to complete the piece, and it boasted the boldest, brightest color thread Adora had ever seen.
The tapestry held colors the likes of which she had never seen. Deep blues, violets and greens twisted and turned into patterns of light and dark. The image was extraordinary. It took up nearly the entire wall.
Untitled Sprint:
He felt odd beneath her fingers, like truth. He stood still under her fingers as if uncertain of the purpose of her touch. His eyes darted to hers the expression on his face caught somewhere between curiosity and surprise. Adora glanced down at the place where her fingers crossed his strange serpent like skin, but could fathom no reason for the look upon his face. His skin was different to be sure, but it was hardly something to fear.
After the day she had, he was the least of her fears. She felt no deception in his words. No lie in his promise not to hurt her, though words could be easily twisted, truth as she saw it was harder to emulate. Pretense could be and often was artfully applied. People wore masks, and their voices lied with the sweetest of tones. His voice had held nothing but the truth, so much so that it seeped from the pores of his skin and tingled along the curves of her fingers.
He drew back slowly as if he feared frightening her in some way. His gaze moved over her once more, curious and calculating, but he did not speak.
He glanced toward the door, then back at her. He moved over to the fire place that took up much of the space on the wall at the foot of the bed. Curious she followed. He bent down and placed pieces of wood onto the empty space inside. The stone was pristine, without the marks that indicated it had ever before been lit. He glanced at her over his shoulder.
“Do you know how to start this?”
He meant nothing by the words, Adora knew, yes the daughter of an impoverished noble knew well how to start a fire. She also knew how to cook, and clean and how to mend her own clothing, her stitches neat and even.
“I do.”
He moved aside, and Adora realized he meant to test the truthfulness of her statement. She chuckled, and grabbed a few smaller pieces of kindling from the basket by the fire place. She turned toward the fireplace and rearranged the wood piled he created. She grabbed the box of matches and quickly set one ablaze.
The dry wood caught easily and in moments small greedy flames licked along the understood of the wood. She glanced from him to the fire the self-satisfied half smile on his lips confusing her.
“Very good, it pleases me that you are apparently a woman of your word.” Confusion stole over her, how was her willingness to admit she knew how to do a common task was proof of her honesty?
“I will leave you to settle in. You should find everything you need within this room, if by some chance, I have overlooked something. You will let me know. I’ll not have you depressed over the want of something that can be easily procured. “Dinner will be in two hours. I expect that you will join me.”
“Am I also to cook?”
“Not this evening”
He opened the huge door and slipped from the room, it slide closed taking him from her sight, and she stared at it for a moment in confusion. There were no others in the castle that she’d seen. No another living soul in all this space, the idea seemed preposterous, but still she’d seen no one.
The room was wonderful. It seemed as if it had been plucked from that space inside her head where dreams lived, only to be set down in the middle of the nightmare her world had become. Sold, bought, purchased, and at the mercy of a man who was not a man, and Adora wasn’t sure what that made her. She was a victim of fickle fate, but she would not be so easily dismissed and shut away. At least he’d not locked her in a dungeon.
The place reeked of magic. She’d felt it when she’d crossed the threshold and that magic tugged at the self-same that lived so quietly and unassumingly within her. She shivered, did he know? Was that way he’d out bid them to such an extent? The jeers that had followed her purchase by the Dark Lord from the North had set her hair on end, and her heart to racing with fear. It wasn't until he came close enough to sense that she’d realized he meant her no harm. Though she had no idea why he would want her if not to warm his bed.
Not that she was disappointed, he seemed to lean in another direction, but some people took pleasure in hurting those who had foolishly given their trust, found the taste of fear laced with betrayal sweeter than the succulent taste of fear alone. Was he luring her into a false sense of safety? Would his true volatile colors reveal themselves later? The slavers certainly felt bad for her.
So far, she could not shake the feeling that she had gotten a far better deal than the others who had been purchased that day. The room was extraordinary and moving toward an open archway, she began to explore the space that was now hers.
The room was beautiful, and as she imagined better suited for a lady than a servant, but then maybe that was what he desired a lady, a companion, someone to cook, and clean and be with. The thought didn’t terrify her as it should have. The far wall was covered by a huge tapestry and curious she examined the scene. The artist must have taken months, perhaps years to complete the piece, and it boasted the boldest, brightest color thread Adora had ever seen.
The tapestry held colors the likes of which she had never seen. Deep blues, violets and greens twisted and turned into patterns of light and dark. The image was extraordinary. It took up nearly the entire wall.