But now… but now, he was the object of her focus. To what end? There is wanting, and also wanting of the more… carnal variety. Vulpes cursed and wished that the Son of Mars had seen fit to have Lanius fetch her instead: the Legate might have found a woman such as the Courier entertaining. Perhaps even the generally reserved Lucius, who preferred his slaves somewhat more willing than most men in the Legion. Such thoughts were pointless, and he banished them furiously. In the meantime, he had a certain degenerate whore pinned to the wall. A fact that she did not seem to mind in the slightest.
And they had begun to draw an audience.
He fled, much to his shame, without another word, hounded by the fiery looks and unabashed amusement of the Courier.
If nothing else, he could report that the mission was a success, however tainted.
Waiting for the Courier to arrive at the Fort had been maddening. Caesar waited for no one, and yet this woman dared to delay their meeting. The Son of Mars did not seem overly perturbed by this, though perhaps the wait felt more strenuous to Vulpes: he’d half expected to become the subject of many crass and off-color humor, such as the plebians could fashion of his... sexuality. As though he were the deviant, and not those ignorant, sex-crazed animals! But nothing of the sort happened. It seemed the Courier preferred to hold his secret over his head.
Damned wretched creature!
He refused to be grateful. He would be, at most, cautiously relieved.
When the Courier finally deigned to arrive, she went boldly through the camp. She was maddeningly fearless. The men at the fort were irritated by her manner, for she was not modest, nor deferential when she spoke to them. To her, they were as nothing, when it should have been the reverse because of her womanhood. Vulpes suspected that her arrogance was due to her knowing his not-quite secret. Perhaps she thought that if she could hold him at bay, that she could the rest of the Legion. If so, then he could take some solace in knowledge that her arrogance would most likely result in her downfall. The knowledge did not comfort him much.
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timeasmymeasure
"On His Own Sword" 3/4
Date: 2015-09-16 06:53 am (UTC)And they had begun to draw an audience.
He fled, much to his shame, without another word, hounded by the fiery looks and unabashed amusement of the Courier.
If nothing else, he could report that the mission was a success, however tainted.
Waiting for the Courier to arrive at the Fort had been maddening. Caesar waited for no one, and yet this woman dared to delay their meeting. The Son of Mars did not seem overly perturbed by this, though perhaps the wait felt more strenuous to Vulpes: he’d half expected to become the subject of many crass and off-color humor, such as the plebians could fashion of his... sexuality. As though he were the deviant, and not those ignorant, sex-crazed animals! But nothing of the sort happened. It seemed the Courier preferred to hold his secret over his head.
Damned wretched creature!
He refused to be grateful. He would be, at most, cautiously relieved.
When the Courier finally deigned to arrive, she went boldly through the camp. She was maddeningly fearless. The men at the fort were irritated by her manner, for she was not modest, nor deferential when she spoke to them. To her, they were as nothing, when it should have been the reverse because of her womanhood. Vulpes suspected that her arrogance was due to her knowing his not-quite secret. Perhaps she thought that if she could hold him at bay, that she could the rest of the Legion. If so, then he could take some solace in knowledge that her arrogance would most likely result in her downfall. The knowledge did not comfort him much.